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Hadrian's
Wall Walk |
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Walking the most rugged
and most spectacular stretch of Hadrian's Wall in full marching kit; October
14 - 16, 2005 The Hadrian's Wall Walk was proposed in summer 2005
by several members of the Late Roman group Comitatus. It was to be a weekend
spent walking the highest and most rugged part of the Wall, effectively the
middle stretch. |
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The plan was initially to camp at Whinshields
Camp Site (a farm), walk to the high point of the Wall less than a mile to
the north and then 10 miles eastwards past Housesteads to Carrawburgh (Roman
Brocolita). Here we would camp if possible and walk back on Sunday. It would
be a two-day 'patrol' in friendly territory. As planning progressed it became
obvious that camping near Carrawburgh and the Mithraeum there was untenable.
It was illegal to do so, and even if it had been possible the land was marshy
and always wet. An alternative plan emerged. We would walk the Wall as far as
Carrawburgh in full armour, as if marching 'to contact' with the enemy.
Maurice in the Strategikon discusses the needs of soldiers who were tasked
with this mission. We were to test it out. Upon reaching Carrawburgh we were
to get a lift back by car to the camp site in a vehicle left there that
morning. That plan stuck, and three of us, Paul (Fortunatus), Jamie (Demetrius)
and John (Victor) met up at the farm late on Friday night. My
(Fortunatus) kit comprised of: |
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Intercisa Helm Ringmail Shirt (10kg) Oval Shield on a strap 2m Spear Spatha Wide Belt with pouch and knife Calcei (hobnail boots) Waterskin (1.5 litre) Blanket-Roll containing frying pan, fire
kit, trail food (cloak wrapped around this) Shoulder pouch with camera and nibbles
(figs, beef jerky, hazelnuts) This marching kit was supplemented by several
'camp' items, namely canvas, two javelins, wooden tent pegs, a hammer, a net
bag of food to cook or nibble, wine in a 3 litre wineskin, leather satchel
with extras such as bowl and spoon and drinking cup, a hooded cloak, a
deerskin. I also took a 'modern' pouch with spectacles, headache tablets,
mobile phone, and antiseptic wipes, that went in the blanket roll on the
march too. The blanket roll was an alternative to carrying a leather or
canvas bag on the march. I'd seen this method of carrying items on the march
in the Vienna Genesis manuscript, a civilian is setting off from home with
his belongings rolled in a blanket or cloak. This is tied at each end and
presumably string tied between the two ends to form a strap. The blanket roll
is then slung over the shoulder. This proved a great way to carry small items
of gear, it was soft and forgiving, and it cushioned the shield that was
slung on my back. However, the string would have cut into me had I not been
wearing ring mail armour, and the string was so narrow, or my knots so
amateur that I spent along time trying to undo the ties to get into my roll.
A quick release knot, combined with rope, would make the blanket roll a very viable
option. I had seen no other representations of bags or satchels that Roman
legionaries of the 4th century might use on the march. The Wall
Walk was my chance to test this option as a 4th century marching
bag. |
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The experience was really divided into the
camping and the marching. I thoroughly enjoyed every aspect of the two nights
we spent in authentic conditions. I couldn't camp like that for long, but it
was great to try. The tent canvas went up on spears and javelins (in the
dark) and stayed up admirably. I managed to light the fire we needed with
flint and steel - Jamie kindly brought some dry wood for us to use. John
filled the tiny tent to bursting with cloaks and furs and leaves. Jamie slept
around the fire, but I'm not sure he got much sleep. I was fine on the
deerskin; the land was sodden, the grass wet, the ground soft and muddy. By
the time we had established camp our boots and feet were wet. We did,
however, find the only dry spot under some trees near a stone wall. We ate
John's delicious onion bread, Jamie had tinned stew and John and I ate pork
chops cooked with apple. The moon and stars were bright, the ridge to the
north upon which the Wall sat looked dark and forbidding. A lovely evening. |
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The walk was
different. For John and Jamie things went well, minor kit problems were
fixed, and they kept up a regular pace. Neither seemed too done in by the
terrain. For me things began badly, the sole of one of my soaking boots fell
off as we tramped through the muddy farmyard on the way out. I 'soldiered' on
up the steep slope to the high point of the Wall (345m) up into the mist to
the Wall, but at the top I had to admit defeat and change into my sandals,
simple thin leather skins tightened with a thong. Ten miles to go - I was now
dreading every step! The thin unsoled sandals weren't bad, however. They were
very comfortable (except on the occasional gravel path) and I had no aching
feet and no blisters even when I'd completed the ten mile march. However,
on wet grass (and there was a lot of wet grass) I slipped over if I wasn't
careful. I got muddy very quickly! I had to take smaller steps and use the
butt-spike on the spear for help coming down slopes. And the slopes up killed
me! John and Jamie didn't seem too troubled, but I struggled every step of
every incline. I was way behind many times. I probably used every swear word
I've ever heard. I might have made some new ones up, too. I ran out of words
after six miles of crags, climbs, steps, slopes, inclines and escarpments. Sadly I didn't jump all over the Roman
architecture we passed because I was too busy fighting for breath. We passed
mile castle 40, and then after Steel Rigg, mile castle 39. We passed the lake
called Crag Lough, but it sat invisible on the other side of the Wall and the
crags in thick mist. The scenery was good. It began with fog, but although it
brightened a little the weather was still misty and evocative. Over the Wall
in places, where it sat on crags, the rocks dropped away into thick mist -
very scary indeed. It was also nice to potter around the turrets and mile
castles, imagining yourself, dressed to kill, back there in the 4th
century. |
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We tried hard to dodge other walkers and tourists,
they all wanted pictures, and to know 'what we were doing', but we were too
tired and too busy walking to talk. It was fun ducking into Houseteads fort
without paying, and picnicking, Roman-style in the shrine of the standards of
the HQ building while a university lecturer gave a talk to his students. His
bit about the 'philosophy of latrine use' was most enlightening. I ate
little, a few figs, some smoked cheese. Instead I enjoyed the rest. I was
almost out of posca, the wine-vinegar-water drink I had brought with me
instead of water. I had a litre of the stuff, and it proved very refreshing,
thirst quenching with a zesty tang. After lunch we jumped the wall amidst a
growing crowd of onlookers and made our escape, passing Nag Burn Gate, a
civilian gateway through the Wall. On the display board there was a great
illustration of 4th century soldiers checking local travellers
coming through for contraband. Up to Sewingshields Crags and the lovely woods
there. King Arthur was reputed to be sleeping with his knights below our feet
within a secret cave. We marched on, Jamie spearing dead bark from a tree.
More hills, more turrets, more falling over. Over-heating. Shoulders getting
more and more painful. The sheer weight pulling you down and down. And at
times the constriction on your chest of straps and armour, making it hard to
lift an arm. I was getting thoroughly exhausted slowing down all the time.
There were more turrets and mile castles, in a blur of lightening skies and
staring at the grassy path ahead. As we paralleled the road, Jamie's car at
the Mithraeum was only a mile or so away. I was so slow at this point that
John kindly offered (under the proviso that beer be traded for the privilege)
to carry my blanket-roll (which was my bag). That lifted my shoulders and
spirits and we marched at speed back to the car. |
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Fantastic. Lifting off the helmet, armour,
shield, spatha, belt and bags was like flying. I'd carried around 5 stone
(30kg) of gear 10 miles - and I only weigh 10 and a half (70kg) to begin
with! After chatting to some friendly tourists in the car park (one of which
wanted us to get kitted up again for a picture!!) we spent a while at the
Mithraeum and made a libation of white wine. Then it was off to the Twice Brewed Inn for a
couple of pints before heading back to the camping field. We erected our
tents/improvised shelters in daylight individually this time. I was again
very satisfied with mine, and the shield kept out the wind. John's tent
looked even snugger (and was closer to the fire). Jamie had his against the
stone wall, but this seemed to channel the wind, and he couldn't sit up when
he needed to (stomach troubles he has). He retired to the car. The wind was
ferocious, but the woods blocked it all and the tents barely fluttered.
Excellent. Cooking was more difficult this time, the wood was local, wet and
did not create much bright flame. It is hard to cook in the dark. John and I
collaborated to light the fire authentically. I burnt my flat bread (I just couldn't see the colour of it!),
John spilt half his pot of delicious sausage and garlic lentil mix. But we
still ate well. I tucked myself in at 9:00 and chatted with the others for a
while. At 10:00 the farmer came around to find out what all the sparks were
that were rising up over the trees, I think the fire was getting bigger! That
night I found that shields make great windbreaks, and excellent seats - dry
and flat enough to stand drinks on or prepare food. The hell of the march (for me personally!) was
easily eclipsed by the wonderful authentic camping we did. I'm very pleased
that nothing I took was out of place, no plastic, no nylon, no modern foods,
no bottles ... everything was authentic. That's my experiment over I guess.
It'd be hard to do that at a re-enactment event every weekend, so it was
great to 'get it out of my system'! |
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On the last day we took it easy, we strolled
around Vindolanda (Chesterholm) in armoured kit (we were let in free and
early by the manager - Jamie is sure he thought we were there for some show
or other). Looked around the museum, the site, and gorged on cake and drinks
in the cafe. Jamie left for home at that point and John and myself nipped
into Chesters for a quick look around. That was my Wall experience. I learnt some valuable information:
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