Jurassic Coast Mighty Hike - 5th July 2025

The Waywards strayed a long way from the South Downs at the weekend, undertaking an organised walk - the Jurassic Coast Mighty Hike half-marathon - for the first time. I realise that makes it sound as if all previous walks have been 'disorganised'. I'm saying nothing. The other difference on this occasion was the addition of a third member for the experience, creating a trio of 'Sole Sisters'. 

We were resplendent in our Macmillan Green, though missed the memo about glitter and deely-boppers. I was, however, sporting a shiny new titanium hip, as yet untried on rugged terrain and over distance.

We gathered at the starting line at Norden Farm, having taken the chain link from Sandbanks to Swanage. 

A small delay ensued due to some dithering over which footwear to select: trainers or hiking boots (went for the latter, thankfully), which socks to wear (I'd forgotten my hiking socks, so begged, borrowed and then bought), and whether or not to take walking poles (didn't, should've, especially since they were a present, as yet untested, from Strictly Lady Lloyd herself).

There was also some discussion about what the third member of Sole Sisters should be called for the purposes of this blog. We toyed with 'Duchess Lloyd' and 'Countess Lloyd' but SLL decreed, quite firmly, that her sister-in-law, in spite of having prior claim to the family name, should in fact be known as 'Just Lloyd'.

And Just Lloyd's partner, hereafter Just Jeeves, provided a marvellous one-man support team including first-rate chauffeur service.

We were chivvied along by Joe in the holding pen before the start line, embracing the role of Mr Motivator. There was much cheering and high-fiving and step-clapping as we warmed up, plus some timely reminders about the impact our fundraising would have. We discovered that we were amongst a 35,000-strong team of Macmillan Mighty Hikers across the country this year.

And then it was time to go, although we just missed our designated 8.50am time slot and had to set off in the 9.10 wave instead. We've never had a 10-9-8 countdown to the start of a walk before, but it certainly provided a sense of occasion. We felt as if we were part of something special.

There were kissing gates to contend with as we made for Corfe Castle, our first landmark. After all the Mr Motivator messages about warmth and teamwork and helping each other, it was a tad annoying to see people pushing past in an effort to jump the queue. 

What a sight the castle is: so iconically Enid Blyton. 

And so familiar. My first visit to this part of the world was more than 40 years ago, on a school trip that resulted in stitches, a smashed jaw and five years of orthodontic treatment and 'train-track' braces. But that's another story.  

The first three miles went well and quickly, but we soon began to look forward to the milestone markers, grateful each time we passed another one. 

The 6-mile sign was particularly welcome because it included the pit-stop with its plentiful treats. 

We managed to miss the 8-mile one - and it was a concern when it didn't appear because it was right at the point when we started to flag. (Well, I can't speak for SLL and JL, but I was certainly feeling it.) So 9-miles was another welcome sight to confirm that we were still on track.

We were lucky with the weather; June and early July have been extremely hot so far this year, but temperatures dipped pleasantly for our mighty hike; there was even some cooling, misty light rain at one point, and it was extremely blowy when we reached the cliff tops.

It was a wonderful route in a dramatic landscape, offering so many highlights. One, in particular, was the little chapel at St Aldhelm's Head, standing close to the cliffs. From the outside, it's a square, squat building that might be a little storehouse or watchtower. 

The unprepossessing exterior didn't advertise its beautiful interior: flowers at the font, a central arch, quaint pews, carvings in the stone, a flash of light through the beautiful and more contemporary-designed window. 

There was a hint of what might lie ahead in the flash of poppies at the doorway.

Just Lloyd liked the views of the Purbeck Hills and the radar monument on the coast path, testament to the vital research on radar carried out in this part of the world during the war. It symbolises the ancient system of early warning, the signal beacon.

Strictly Lady Lloyd's highlight was the camaraderie we experienced on the route, and there was certainly something moving about being part of this shared experience. Having said that, SLL appeared to be marching on a mission at times, and her backpack disappearing ahead was a frequent sight.

Something that definitely couldn't be described as a 'highlight' was the climb at the 10-mile mark. Joe Motivator had warned us it was coming, but the word 'climb' couldn't capture the level of physical exertion it entailed. These smiles are through gritted teeth. And any resemblance to bug insects suggested by the sunglasses is entirely coincidental.

We made friends with the local wildlife shortly after that:

And we took a rare little rest at the top on a handily placed stone block.

This was just above Dancing Ledge, somewhere I'm determined to return to for a swim at some point in the future. We looked down on an enclosed pool, right at the moment when I could have most done with a swim. Dancing Ledge is a beautiful name and is apparently so-called because of the way that waves splash over the rocks and create the illusion that the ledge itself is moving.

By 11 miles we knew we were on the homeward stretch.

And from 12 miles we left the countryside and hit the roads leading into Swanage.

By the all-important 13 mile sign, we thought we were almost there. We'd forgotten Joe Motivator's promise that the mighty hike gives you a little bonus half a mile. It felt even longer. The beach looked extremely inviting.

But a swim would have to wait. There was a course to complete. Just Jeeves engaged in some light 'bants' having driven past a marker on the full marathon route. His WhatsApp message to the group asked what was taking us so long and included this photograph:

We forgave him, though, because finally, just as we thought there was nothing left in the tank, Just Jeeves appeared - applauding us over the last few metres - and he was armed with gin and tonic! The finish line loomed ahead of us.

There were medals and cheers as we crossed the line. The post-walk lunch was an impressive array of delicious salads. We were very grateful for the sustenance! Well done to Macmillan on all counts. We sincerely hope to be back next year. 

Between us we raised around £1000. Not bad for a day's walking. 

In spite of LL's mission-marching, we came in around 500th, comfortably mid-table, but perhaps Just Jeeves' joke hit home, because LL is already busy looking at next year's events and wondering if we could complete the full 26 miles.