LEJOG
Distance walked – 18.4km
Total Distance – 2019.3km
It’s over
I knew it would end this way
…. I got no distance left to run
Blur – No Distance Left to Run
Setting off on Final Day
And so we set off on the last day of our LEJOG.
Just like the final stage of the Tour de France, where the yellow jersey is settled, and the riders perform a processional stage into Paris (with some minor jostling at the end), we decided to treat our final day as a ceremonial victory parade (barring an act of God, we had this in the bag).
As we only had 18km to walk today, (in a processional fashion), we decided to leave a bit later than normal. We stayed last night at The Hillside Camping Pods which were very comfortable. (The camping pods in Scotland have been great, striking the right balance between comfort and cost.) It was a pleasant change to have a relaxing morning, as we both enjoyed a leisurely shower, in the separate shower pod, eating our golden syrup porridge sachets, and the final pack of our backpacks.
Eventually, however, we were ready to depart. We felt mixed emotions as we put our packs on; elated that we were almost there, but at the same time saddened by the prospect of giving up the task which has been our life for the past 79 days.
The Most Interesting Thing We Saw on the A99
So it was with an air of melancholy that we set off, not helped by the inauspicious start to our final day, as we walked a kilometre back down a non-descript B-road, before rejoining the A99 at the roadworks we had walked through yesterday.
The roadworkers waved us through the counterflow again, non-plussed, perhaps they now regularly see people on a pilgrimage to the end of the Earth this far north. We avoided the steaming new bitumen, scorchingly hot as we walked past and put our heads down to complete the final 5 km on the A99. Luckily the traffic wasn’t too bad, and there was a decent verge most of the way, so were able to avoid feeling in too much danger. We were, however, both very glad to see the end of the A99, for the final time, as we took the turning down to the tiny village of Skirza Harbour where we rejoined the John o’Groats trail.
The road walking has been one of the great chores of our LEJOG. One of the great realisations of this trip has been how painful walking on hard flat bitumen is to the feet. So, as we left the road, climbing a fence on to the grassy path of the JOGT, we both cheered a little for our final farewell to our tarmac travails.
By now, the initial misty drizzle of the early morning had cleared, and there were high clouds with only a light wind. We were back at the sea, with the myriad sea birds yelling and swooping, and the rough path clinging to the sea edge outside the fence.
Initially the path climbed above rock platforms, with good views back across Freswick Bay, Sinclair Bay and all the way back to Wick, where we had come from yesterday. To our left, Black Hill at 90m, dominated the view. Ahead we could start making our some of the Orkney Islands, off the Northern Coast of Scotland. We would soon be running out of mainland – the end of the Earth beckoned.
Our guidebook had promised that this final section was one of the finest of the JOGT, and so it proved.
The path steadily climbed until we were traversing around spectacular Geos, one after the other. The path remained rough and clung close to the edge, but we didn’t care anymore. The precarious path of the JOGT had finally numbed us, on this last day, into careless abandon.
Wife Geo
Hidden from view until we almost fell into it was Wife Geo, probably the most dramatic Geo on this coast. Over a hundred metres deep, it contains both a Sea Stack and a Sea Arch. I walked ahead so Louisa could take a photo, and when I looked back I was filled with dread to see Louisa seemingly standing on the edge of a precipitous drop. . .
The scenery was truly breathtaking, and we were so glad to be finishing this walk in such an amazing way. Our previous trip to John o’Groats involved driving from Inverness on a wet windy day, and we thought the countryside was drab and boring with few redeeming features. Little did we know that several hundred metres from the road is some of the most spectacular coastal scenery in the UK.
Final View (Lighthouse to the Right, John o’Groats to Left)
We stopped to watch some more seals, playing in the water below us, before setting of across a flattish boggy area and then up and over a gentle rise. As we reached the top, suddenly, without expectation, the final vista opened before us. We could see the path ahead passing the Stacks of Duncansby and then leading on to the lighthouse at Duncansby Heads. To the left of the lighthouse, along the northern coast we could make out the buildings of John o’Groats. We both looked at each other, dumbfounded that we could finally see the end of the walk.
The Duncansby Stacks
The Stacks were the icing on the cake of this final day spectacular. The first stack consists of red brick like stones. It almost looks man-made with a ruined fort impossibly placed on the top. The second stack is knife thin, with a tiny accessory stack beside it.
We decided to stop for our final lunch opposite the stacks. We sat and admired the view, strangely not wanting to rush now that we were so close to the end.
The path gradually became well worn and smoother underfoot, but not before one last knee trembling section, clinging to the edge. And suddenly there were people, lots of people. We haven’t seen people on the path for days now, and it was a shock to have to share the path with families, and couples, all walking from the lighthouse to the lookout over the Stacks.
We joined the crowds and headed up the hill to the lighthouse, where the carpark was full of cars and campervans. We lost the crowds here again, as we headed on, descending from the headland, heading towards a beach.
The path was a little hard to follow, but it didn’t matter as we made our own way, eventually coming out above a beautiful white sandy beach, with views across to the Orkneys.
We skirted several more coves, with glistening white sand that reminded us of beaches back home in Australia. The sun had come out, and a beautiful blue sky hung above us, with the glistening sea gently lapping on to the beach. The last kilometre was over gentle grassy pasture, as the buildings of John o’Groats neared.
The iron gateway that marks the end of the John o’Groats trail appeared suddenly, without any fanfare or warning. We walked through together as we have done on every step of this 2000km odyssey.
As we stood there, overwhelmed by the moment, we laughed in disbelief as a bagpiper suddenly started to play. We have had a standing joke that my brother, Marcus, was going to organise a bagpiper for us at the end (Louisa famously loathes the bagpipes), and it had seemed that he had come through with the goods.
We headed over to the famous sign to take our completion selfie. We remembered setting off from the corresponding sign at Land’s End, what felt like a lifetime away. I wondered briefly what it all meant and how we were changed by it, but decided that the task of contemplation was for the future. Instead, we smiled and laughed and enjoyed our victorious moment in the sun – and we even bought a fridge magnet!
