6 Days in the Arctic Circle

‘So, you’re all set for the Arctic then?’ the voice on the phone says brightly.

‘Um … yes, I think so,’ I reply.

‘Great, then we’ll see you at Oslo Airport on Monday.  Bye!’

I put the phone down.  The truth is, I’ve no idea if I am all set for the Arctic.  How do you know what you’re going to need in average temperatures of -25°?  I’ve got everything that was recommended on the kit list and I’ve put in a bit of training as suggested, but will it be enough?

My sister Hilary and I are going dog sledding in Arctic Norway.  This seemed like a great idea a year ago when we booked it.  Now?  Well, insane is one word that springs to mind.  We are flying from Edinburgh to Oslo via Copenhagen, then on to Alta on the north coast, latitude 69.5 degrees north, deep in the Arctic Circle.

It’s snowing in Edinburgh when we leave, as if to get us in the mood.  So much so, in fact, that we worry whether we’ll get to Norway at all.  At the airport however, everything seems to be running as normal and soon we’re en route to Copenhagen, where we have a mere 25 minutes to make our connecting flight.  We make it by running through the airport at top speed.  Perhaps this is why we were urged to train for the trip?  As committed fans of Nordic Noir, we’re thrilled beyond measure to catch a glimpse of The Bridge as we take off for Oslo.

We’re meeting the rest of the group at Oslo airport.  There are to be 11 of us, plus a British expedition leader, a Norwegian guide, and rather alarmingly, a doctor.  It’s the latter we’re meeting here; we’ve been told she is small and blonde, which doesn’t exactly narrow it down in a country full of flaxen haired vikings.  We grab a quick sandwich and a cup of tea and sit down to consume them.  Hilary nudges me, pointing out a fair-haired woman who appears to be in charge of a group on the other side of the café.  We look at them with dismay – they are all so young!  Surely this can’t be our group?  Hilary texts the doctor while I watch the blonde woman, who makes no movement towards her phone.  A text is received in return, ‘We’re up in the restaurant, come and find us.’  Phew!  We head upstairs.

The doctor, Annalie, turns out to be a brunette (I think this mistake is mainly due to my lack of listening skills) but she is petite, and very friendly.  As are the others, who introduce themselves with smiles and offers of drinks.  Five of them are Irishmen; Pat, Donal, Gary, Ian and Richard, who have been travelling since 4am.  They all know each other, some from work and others from school.  In addition there is Conor, who is also Irish but lives in Windsor, Paddy, who confusingly isn’t Irish, but comes from Kent, and Toni and Penny, English roses from Bristol and Bournemouth respectively.  We’re pleased that they are all so friendly, but more importantly, relieved that they’re all about our age and don’t look too fit!

In my ignorance I had expected the plane to Alta to be a similar size to our own island aircraft, so it comes as something of a surprise to be ushered on to an enormous jet.  I’m seated next to two Norwegians, who, bizarrely, are on their way home from watching Liverpool play at Anfield.  I ask if they’d enjoyed it.  ‘Yes,’ they said, ‘and we have added lots of new words to our English vocabulary.’

The plane calls at Tromsø, where additional passengers for Alta embark.  They come up the aisle, shaking hands and chatting with those already seated.  You can tell what’s being said, even though it’s in Norwegian,

‘Hi aye, how are you?’

‘No bad, yourself?’

It’s after 11pm when we arrive in Alta, and the Irishmen are so tired that they can hardly walk in a straight line.  We’re met by the two group leaders; Per-Thore the Norwegian and Brummie, from guess where? They fling our carefully packed bags into the back of a minibus, tell us to jump in, and off we go to our first nights’ accommodation at Soulovombi, traditionally a mustering place for the Samí reindeer herders.  We arrive and tumble straight into bed; we’ve a busy day tomorrow.

Next morning, the sun shines gloriously from a perfect blue sky.  The snow is dazzling.  It’s also deep, piled 6 feet high against the walls of the bunkhouse.  Breakfast is served in the restaurant adjacent to our hut, a wonderful spread of home baked bread, cheeses, ham, yogurt, jam made from locally picked berries … we are warned not to get used to this.  Dimitri, the enthusiastic young restaurant manager, knows the next few days will be decidedly spartan and has pulled the stops out for us.  Brummie gives us a team talk as we eat, and by the time he’s finished the morning’s noisy confidence has evaporated.

 

First things first, we are each issued with an arctic suit and snow boots.  Once they’re on, we move like astronauts, and indeed the label inside says, ‘Made on Earth’.  Per-Thore instructs us to take a sled each.  They are wooden, with long graceful runners which you stand on.  The body of the sled is a big blue fabric bag, into which all our gear, plus the human and canine food for the journey must go.  There is a metal pedal brake, which digs a spike into the snow to stop the sled.  In addition there is a snow anchor, which Per-Thore tells us to use carefully as it is possible to impale yourself on it.  Heartening news indeed.

 

The palatial hut at Soulovombi

Next we meet the dogs, which are each tied to their own kennel just round the corner.  I had expected huskies but actually they are an indeterminate breed of many different hues.  They are all barking madly and trying to jump up, tails birling like windmills because they’re so happy to see Per-Thore.  We’re shown how to put their harnesses on and told always to attach our lead dogs to the sled first.  Theneveryone is given between four and six dogs.  I get four, two black and tan ones at the front, one brindled and one ginger at the rear.  They’re lovely, but they don’t want affection, they want to be off.  Per-Thore heads to his own sled at the front of the line and at once all the dogs are straining to go.  There are no instructions; just pick up your ice anchor.  As soon as I do I am jolted forward as the dogs leap into action.  We’re off! The cacophony of barking immediately ceases.  It’s quite smooth at first as we’re on the flat but within minutes there’s a corner to negotiate and shortly afterwards, a road crossing.  I fervently hope there’s nothing coming as I couldn’t stop even if there was.

The lads – messing about right from the start!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Road negotiated, its uphill now.  As we get higher the Finnmarksvidda spreads out before us, an icy white world, as magical as Narnia, as alien as Mars.  There’s no sound but the panting of the dogs and the swooshing of the sled runners on the snow.  The cold is startling; uncover your face and your eyelashes freeze, a very weird sensation.  We’ve been warned about frostbite and snowblindness and indeed the glare of the sun off the snow is ferocious.

I’m beginning to think this is easy when we come to a forest with very steep uphill and downhill sections.  Going uphill you have to get off the sled and run behind it, pushing, to help the dogs.  If you don’t, they’ll turn round and give you accusing looks, as if to say, ‘Get off the sled and help, you lazy …!’  This was what the fitness training was for, and I had worried I would find it hard.  But it’s the going down that scunners me.  The dogs start to run, the sled picks up speed, the path zig-zags through the trees … and my sled mounts a snowbank and tips.  As soon as I right it the dogs are off, dragging me along behind.  I can’t get my feet back on the runner s and I can’t stop the sled.  Eventually I’m forced to let go, shouting a warning to Toni who’s in front of me.  She manages to catch my lead dogs and holds them till I trudge up to reclaim them.  It’s the first of many falls – in fact I spend most of the afternoon doing what’s known as ‘the walk of shame’.  Toni counts 7 times by the end of the day, and she should know as she’s got the bruises to show for it.  I’m a little dispirited by the time we reach our overnight stop at Lappujavri, but tell myself its early days, and I wasn’t the only one who fell off – just the one who did it most often!

Our accommodation for tonight is an unheated hut with no electricity or running water and an outside long drop toilet.  It sounds even less tempting after a day on a dog sled.  Everyone’s exhausted and freezing but there are jobs to be done.  Richard volunteers to light the enormous cast iron stove; he becomes our Keeper of the Flames and Porridge Maker in Chief for the week.  Brummie and some of the ‘the lads’, as the Irishmen have already become known, take an enormous hand drill down to the lake to make holes in the ice for water.  Hilary and I offer to feed the dogs.

Arriving at Lappujavri, our hut is on the left

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There are about 70 dogs and each gets half a scoop of pellets, followed by a lump of unidentifiable meat, which comes in frozen blocks that Per-Thore is busy hacking up with an axe.  We ask what sort of meat it is and where he gets it.  ‘You don’t want to know,’ comes the reply.  He’s right.   It seems odd, but the dogs don’t drink at all; instead they scoop up mouthfuls of snow as they run along.  They also do other things as they run along … let’s just say there are times when it would be a really bad idea to fall off your sled.

The hut warms up as the evening progresses.  Per-Thore produces an excellent spaghetti bolognese and fortified by food we all discuss the day.  Brummie tells us we’ve done 46.5km today which is the furthest they’ve ever gone on a first day and we glance at each other and smile, secretly proud that we’re the group to achieve this.

‘The girls’ and Conor have volunteered to sleep in the traditional Samí tent tonight.  Conor has already lit the little stove in there and Per-Thore hands out Arctic sleeping bags and fleece liners, instructing us to wear all our clothes, plus hats and gloves as well.  There’s snow on the floor of the tent and our beds are reindeer skins, which turn out to be fantastic, if smelly, insulators.  We’re all roasting at first, but it’s not so warm when I wake at 3am.  The dogs periodically howl during the night; one or two start up, then they’re all at it, so none of us get much sleep and we blunder bleary-eyed back into the hut in the morning.

A quick breakfast of porridge, bread and jam and gallons of black tea, then it’s time to hitch up the dogs and be off.  Outside the hut it’s complete chaos as everyone struggles to harness their dogs, hitch them up in the right order, and stop them getting tangled with the other teams. Per-Thore is shouting a lot; at the dogs, at us, and particularly at Annalie’s overly amorous lead pair – ‘No sex!’ He’s like a bear, huge and irascible, but extremely competent, being ex-Norwegian Special Forces, and we wouldn’t last long in this hostile environment without him.  As the week goes on though, we discover that inside he’s a less of a bear and more of a teddy.

Hilary asleep in the Samí tent

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It’s snowing as we set off, with a fast downhill followed by a sharp turn to start.  Actually this is how we start every morning and it separates the wheat from the chaff as people come flying off their sleds having taken the corner too fast.  I am most definitely chaff.   We’ve been promised an easier day today and so it turns out; we’re sledding over frozen lakes and rivers most of the day.  Lake-side cabins nestle amidst the birch woods on their banks.  The sun comes out and it’s beautiful again, the line of sleds arcs out in front of me, and I even feel confident enough to attempt to take some photos. It’s an idyllic day, but when the sun goes down the temperature immediately drops and I start to feel really cold.  Pat is in front of me; his dogs are slow and everyone else has overtaken him. Brummie’s trying to keep his spirits up by telling him it’s not much further.  Half an hour ago he told us we’d be there in 15 minutes.  At last a line of huts appears, and we’ve arrived at Mollisjok.

We’re right in the middle of the Finnmarksvidda here, in the heart of Samí country.  People come here all year round for the excellent fishing; arctic char, trout and grayling abound in these waters.  It’s salmon we’re having tonight though, and Per-Thore has done us proud again. The food, the fresh air and the 47km we’ve done work their magic and everyone turns in early, apart from Gary and Ian, who sing us to sleep with Irish laments.

Sledding over a frozen lake

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In the morning Per-Thore greets us with the news that it was -39° overnight, the coldest it’s been so far this winter.  It’s not much warmer now, though the sun gamely tries to penetrate the freezing mist which shrouds the trees and buildings.  It’s a short day today, only 30km, as we’re staying at Mollisjok again tonight, so once the morning chaos has resolved itself we set off for Lake Iesjavri, at 13 kilometres long the largest lake in the Finnmark region.  It’s flat all the way and just as well, for as soon as I put my goggles on they steam up and freeze, making it impossible to see anything.  I can just about make out Donal in front of me.  When we stop for lunch I remove my goggles and am surprised to find I still can’t see anything; the mist is thicker here and the beautiful views we were promised non-existent.  It is fantastic though, we could be explorers on a far distant planet for all the relation this bears to our own world.

Mollisjok

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The afternoon is spent blissfully warm in the sauna, followed by reindeer stew for dinner.  Afterwards, Paddy goes outside to try an experiment.  Per-Thore told him earlier that when it’s this cold it’s possible to throw a glass of boiling water in the air and it will come down as ice.  We all crowd outside to witness this, our hair immediately freezing as we do.  It’s true; the ice droplets hang momentarily in the air like a firework, then slowly descend, blending into the snow at our feet.

Friday morning, and we’re returning to the hut at Lappujavri, but this time we’re going over the mountain.  Within minutes I’m sweating as much as I was in the sauna as I’m running behind the sled all the way up.  The dogs are tiring as the week goes on; they don’t bark now when we stop, instead they curl up into little balls in the snow.  We hear ptarmigan in the birch woods as we start the descent, their call echoing in the icy silence. Yesterday’s mist has gone and it’s another beautiful day, though so cold you can see particles floating in the air.  We’re going 52km today, the longest day yet, but we must be getting better because we’re all surprised when we reach Lappujavri early.  In a repeat of day 2 ‘the lads’ head off with the drill to get water while Hilary, Toni and I feed the dogs.

Unlike day 2, ‘the lads’ fall through the ice – the first layer has become softer in the warmth of the sun and they fall in up to their knees.  Underneath them, the second layer is still metres thick but they get a fright nonetheless, and more worryingly, their gear is soaked.  Per-Thore is concerned.  ‘We cannot leave tomorrow if the boots are not dry,’ he pronounces, carefully hanging things round the stove (Donal has already burnt a hole in his arctic suit).  ‘Idiots!’ he mutters, just for good measure.  Gary and Ian ply them with drink for the shock and the evening turns into a party, to celebrate their survival, to celebrate our last night in the wilds, and just to celebrate life in general.

Heading over the mountain

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Our last day dawns and we’ve all got aching stomach muscles from laughing so much last night.  ‘The lads’ slept in the Samí tent and Gary in particular looks the worse for it, though how much of that is the tent’s fault it’s hard to say.  Richard’s porridge works its usual wonders though and we’re ready with gear stowed and dogs hitched up in record time.  I’m a bit anxious about today as we’re taking the same route back to Soulovombi that I fell on 7 times on the way out.  I’d really like to have at least one accident free day.  I survive the start (downhill, sharp turn) but before long we’re at the tricky forested downhill sections.  I grit my teeth, stand on the brake with both feet and grip the handle of the sled so tight that my hands hurt.  I make it in one piece down the first hill; and the next one, and several more after that.  Before long the worst is over, just a long straight final pull to Souvolombi.  The dogs know they’re going home, they’re putting in a last burst of energy.  We hurtle over the final road crossing – again, I couldn’t stop if I tried – and we’re there.

Evening in the hut at Lappujavri

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It’s time to say goodbye to the dogs, which is sad, but we all feel elated.  We’ve sledded 220km in 5 days in extreme conditions and survived.  The landscape has been amazing, the camaraderie has been great, but having all day on the sled alone with your thoughts has been interesting too, even if those thoughts mainly revolve around how to get your chocolate out of your pocket without falling off your sled.  It’s been the most fantastic experience, and I know for sure that if I’m ever again lucky enough to be asked, ‘Are you all set for the Arctic then?’ the answer, without hesitation, will be, ‘YES!’

Alayne and Hilary – ready for action

 

Awe-inspiring cycle challenges – NEW for 2014!

If you’ve dreamed of pedaling further afield, or want to build on a previous European cycling adventure success, our new cycling programme could be for you.

We’re delighted to introduce new, exciting cycle rides to two of the most stunning places on the planet - Costa Rica and Death Valley.

Did you know that Costa Rica hosts more than 5% of the world’s biodiversity, even though its landmass only takes up 0.03% of the planet’s surface? Explore the splendours of this fascinating and beautiful country by cycling coast-to-coast with Across the Divide. Book your place and take in the sights and sounds of banana plantations, rainforests and volcanoes as you pedal from the Caribbean to the Pacific coast.

Or how about cycling across the place where the highest temperature on earth was recorded? (Don’t worry – we won’t be cycling in 56.7 degrees of heat next November!) Your trip will take you 264 miles across this incredible terrain.  Take in the stunning views … and enjoy the thought of a night out in Las Vegas at the end of the ride. What more could a person want?!

Give yourself a great headstart in your training and secure your place today; we hope to see you there!

Happy pedaling,

The Across the Divide events team

Musings from a 60km walk

Check out this fantastic blog, written by an intrepid 60km walker at this year’s Just Walk.

We love her list of 15 things she learned on her walk, including:

  •  Someone offering you chocolate and a cuppa is instantly transformed from normal person to the best person. Ever
  • Changing into fresh socks during a walk is an almost heavenly feeling
  • You will always need the toilet when you’re halfway between checkpoints
  • Promising yourself a curry if you manage to get home before the local takeaway shuts is a great incentive
  • Every ache, every pain and every rain-sodden, wind-blown, damp, hard, tiring and seemingly impossible step is worth it when you truly believe in the charity you’re supporting

We couldn’t have said it better ourselves!  Check out the full blog here: and if these musings inspire you, don’t forget that registrations for Just Walk 2014 are now open – click here to register!

 

Congratulations to everyone who took part in Just Walk 2013

Our 800+ walkers enjoyed Just Walk 2013 – despite some pretty hairy weather!

Some of them may be nursing a blister or two, or some aching muscles, but hopefully any lingering discomfort will have been heavily outweighed by a wonderful feeling achievement. As well as completing the Just Walk challenge, our walkers also raised some truly astonishing amounts for charity; so well done to them all!  Why not check out their fundraising totals and tips on our Facebook page?  Some outstanding stories have been posted up already.

We also saw a new course record set for the 60km distance, with one super-speedy walker finishing in an incredible 7.5 hours! Although Just Walk is not a race against time, we thought this was worth a mention. There was a fantastic atmosphere throughout the event. Over 1,000 people registered, with 880 people taking part on the day. The number of walkers completing the four distances were as follows:

  • 60km – 156 walkers
  • 40km – 232 walkers
  • 20km – 221 walkers
  • 10km – 271 walkers

We’re delighted to offer an early bird discount on the 2014 Just Walk event – now confirmed for Saturday 10th May 2014. Book before Friday 31st May 2013 and get 10% off next year’s event, across ALL distances! Simply quote discount code JWEB14when you book your place online. If you Just Walked this year, why not sign up next year for a greater distance; or see if you can improve on your 2013 time? Remember, all of the money you raise goes directly to your chosen charity.

If, however, Just Walk has left you looking for an even bigger challenge, we’re offering some fantastic discounts on truly epic adventures in the second half of 2013.  Fancytrekking to Machu Picchu? Or climbing to the summit of Mount Kilimanjaro (you’re twice as likely to reach to top with Across the Divide*!)? Or even following in the footsteps of Edmund Hilary and Tenzing Norgay to the base camp of Everest? Visit our hiking, trekking & walking web page to find out more and book your place.

Congratulations again on your Just Walk 2013 success. We hope to welcome you on another Across the Divide event soon.

With best wishes,

The Across the Divide Just Walk Team.

Source: Lonely Planet

Fantastic offers on some of our most epic adventures!

Maybe it’s because the sun is out and we’ve got a smile on our face, but we’re delighted to offer some amazing web-only deals on our most epic adventures.

First up; Kilimanjaro.

Did you know that you’re are TWICE AS LIKELY to reach the summit of Kilimanjaro with Across the Divide? Over the past two years, over 85% of Across the Divide trekkers have reached the top – the average success rate is just 42%*. This is because:

  • We give you two extra days to adjust to the extreme altitude, which increases your chance of summit success – unlike many of our competitors
  • You will be accompanied by at least one UK-trained doctor with altitude experience ot help you reach the summit – unlike many of our cometitors
  • We follow the less-travelled Rongai Route to the summit, which is generally considered to offer some of the best opportunities for acclimatisation

So avoid the crowds, DOUBLE YOUR CHANCE OF SUMMIT SUCCESS and take advantage of our special web-only offer: book now and get a fantastic £50 OFF your place on our September 2013 trip by quoting reference KAW13!

Next up, Peru and the Inca Trail

The bad news? Inca Trail passes are now sold out for September 2013 – boo! The good news? you can still visit the Lost City of Machu Picchu with Across the Divide – yeay!  Walk through the iconic Sun Gate and have over a day to explore these magnificant ruins – but substitute the last morning of walking for a ride on the majestic train instead.  With magnificent views and a stress-free journey up to the site, it’s the perfect way to round off your trip.

Book for our September 2013 trip via our website and get a fantastic £75 OFF your place by quoting reference PAWS13!

Last – but by no means least – is Everest Base Camp

It’s surely the ultimate trekking charity challenge: to follow in the footsteps of Sir Edmund Hilary and Tenzing Norgay to the base camp of Everest.

If this incredible trip is on your bucket list, don’t delay and book today with Across the Divide. As an added incentive to click for this trip, we’re offering online customers a whopping £100 OFF when you book and quote reference EAW13!

Snap up one of these magnificent offers while they’re available and book yourself the trip of a lifetime.

And book with the best: Across the Divide.

 

*Source: Lonely Planet

10% off Just Walk – Saturday 11 May 2013

Just Walk is just under a month away so we’re offering 10% off ALL distances using offer code JW10 - book your place today!

The weather forecast is looking good; perhaps the long winter is finally over!  So put a spring in your step and Just Walk 10km, 20km, 40km or 60km across the beautiful South Downs on Saturday 11 May.  With our flagship walking event now less than a month away, we’re giving 10% off ALL bookings made from today, across ALL distances.

To take advantage of this offer, simply quote discount code JW10 when you register via our website.

If you’ve got a larger group interested in taking part, we’re also offering a discount on group bookings. For details, or if you have any questions about the event, please email us.

And if the thought of a walk inspires you to try a more challenging hike, we’ve got some fantastic events planned for the second half of this year.  From climbing Mount Kilimanjaro, to hiking the Great Wall of China, to trekking Machu Picchu, there’s a range of exciting opportunities to get those boots on and take in some fantastic sights.  Visit our events page to find out more.

Happy walking!

The Across the Divide Just Walk Team.

Welcome to all 2013 Just Walkers!

Congratulations to everyone who’s signed up for Just Walk 2013 so far – we hope your training has got off to a good start despite the snow.

It can be tough to motivate yourself to get out there and train when the weather is bad. It can be even tougher if you think your walking technique needs improvement. Fortunately, our friends at Women’s Walking magazine have a fantastic guide to analysing and adapting your walking technique - click here to take a look.

We’ve got quite a community building around Just Walk this year. If you’re looking to get in touch with fellow walkers, or want to share training techniques or fundraising ideas, why not join our Facebook event page? One of our walkers recently posted some lovely photos of her & her dogs out in the snow, valiantly putting in the miles!

If you’re walking to raise money for charity, we’ve designed a free poster for you to print off to help boost your fundraising efforts. Simply download a copy from our website, fill in your sponsorship details and put it on display – perhaps in your front window, in your car, in the office staff room, or on the noticeboard at your local sports centre?

Event packs are sent out with your registration confirmation, however if for some reason you haven’t received one please email us and we’ll send it to you directly.

Just Walk is now in it’s 7th year and people are signing up fast for all four distance challenges. But of course there’s still room for more, so don’t forget to tell your family, friends and colleagues about this fantastic experience. It’s quick and easy to sign up via our website; alternatively they can book over the phone on 01460 30456.  If you know of anyone who’s putting together a group of walkers, we’re running a discount on group bookings - please ask them to email us for more details today!

We’ll be back in touch soon with more news about the event, however if you have any queries in the meantime please get in touch.

Enjoy your walking; we must be due some sunshine soon!

The Across the Divide Just Walk Team.

Snow! Dogs! And maybe the Northern Lights …..

Book a place on our April dog sledding trip in the Norweigan Arctic Circle and get £100 off

If the recent cold spell has given you a taste for snow, an Across the Divide dog sledding trip could be right up your street.

It’s your last chance to snap up (or should that be wolf down?) a place – and if you book before Thursday 31st January we’ll give you £100 off!  Simply book your place through our website or call us on 01460 30456 and quote discount code DSJan13.

Need inspiration?

Blog! Written by one of our 2012 participants, this fantastic blog really captures the spirit and excitement of this wonderful trip.

Snaps! Need some visual inspiration? Check out our Pinterest site to get the feel of this incredible experience.

Expedition Medic Dr Karen Bevan-Mogg gives another view of the Children in Needs Rickshaw Challenge

The Children in Need Rickshaw Challenge…an expedition on home turf!Working as an event medic

When I decided to locum for a while in order to concentrate on expedition medicine, I didn’t expect to become Pudsey’s personal physician for Children in Need Rickshaw Challenge with the BBC and the One Show… but last week I was privileged to provide medical support for this fantastic event as part of the Across the Divide Expeditions event management crew. As I crept along in the medic car behind the rickshaw at around 10mph , trying to ignore the acrid smell of the clutch, I pondered the fantastic diversity of experience that expedition medicine offers. I’ve worked in various exotic locations since attending the Keswick course in Expedition Medicine, yet those 9 days supporting 8 teenagers cycle across Britain rank amongst the most enjoyable and inspiring of my career.

In many ways, the event was like any other expedition:

It took me to new places, starting in sleepy Llandudno and continued south through the stunning ,windy and wet Welsh landscape , across the rolling hills to Salisbury plain and finally to London’s concrete jungle.

I had to deal with the usual medical issues (diarrhoea, skin conditions, aches and pains), I’d swatted up on the teenagers’ chronic conditions and hoped they’d remain stable and prepared a comprehensive medical kit which was rarely used but was ready if needed.

Each day brought unexpected challenges and surprises, like having 10 minutes’ warning before being interviewed on live TV; supporting the blind rider sent down an off-road track as daylight faded (he loved it and I laughed so hard my sides hurt!); Like the hotel we shared with a party of pensioners celebrating New Year 2 months early (Auld lang Syne and the bells at 10pm before bedtime.) The event crew had to accommodate the ever-changing demands of the various parties involved including fundraisers, family and film crew and potential conflict between leaders with different agendas was resolved professionally.

My breath was taken away several times, not by high altitude peaks or panoramas but by the victories and sheer determination of the physically disabled riders…some find walking a challenge and had never ridden a bike before.

My only physical challenge was sitting in a car for 10 hrs a day! No problem, you may think, but by day 6 the urge to exercise was almost unbearable. Thankfully Physio Laura (my partner in crime) and I discovered a shared sense of humour and we laughed most of the time away.

The ATD event management crew were fantastic, confirming to me that expeditions and outdoor events tend to bring together highly professional and genuinely lovely people who are a pleasure to work with.

So if you’re interested in expedition medicine, yet can’t undertake a typical long-haul trip at the moment, why not consider getting involved in events closer to home.? They demand many of the same skills, bring unpredictable challenges and almost certainly offer some wonderful rewards.

The fantastic Team Rickshaw raised £1,547,717! with monies still coming in. Find out more about the team-members and everything they got up to!

(Dr Karen Bevan-Mogg is a GP in London. She did the Expedition and Wilderness Medicine course in Keswick 2010 and the Pre-Hospital Emergency Care course in the Lee Valley 2012.)

#TeamRickshaw @BBCCiN @AcrossTheDivide

 

Of Interest

Charity challenges for 2013

Follow in the footsteps of the Children in Need #TeamRickshaw and set yourself a life changing fundraising challenge, charity bike ride, charity trek or even dogsled and give yourself a great fitness target for the new year.

Download Across the Divide charity challenge brochure right here and put your thoughts into action!

 

High quality PDF file – slower download but looks nicer!!

Low quality PDF file – faster download by photographs dont come out quite so nice! 

 

 

 

‘Behind every challenge and adventure is a logistics team that work tirelessly behind the scenes. Across The Divide provide the support and logistics that ensured a safe and successful adventure. They organised the event in record time without compromising safety or quality.  Quite simply, we couldn’t have done it without them”.   Ben Fogle.