Walking Hadrian's Wall . . . Heddon-on-the-wall

The first time you actually see what is left of the wall, your impression is . . . "What?! I've come all this way for THIS?"

And then you calm down; you take a deep breath, and you realize that what you're looking at is almost 1900 years old. OK. What's that mean. Well, for one measure, twenty-five other guys lived as long as I have in a straight line before me. I don't consider myself old, but I'm not exactly young either. I think there are at least twenty-five people from my high school graduating class still kicking; I'm only in touch with half a dozen or so. So if all of us held hands, that piece of wall would be four times older than we are.

My brother and all my family that I know of I don't think total that many years. 

And that wall will still be there when we're gone.

And with the way climate change is going, I wonder what the evolved humans who come through the other side will make of it.

Thus for philosophy.

Just flipping starting this walk was one of the most mentally challenging things I've ever done. It was harder than making my first sport parachute jump. Just the getting up and doing it. But I did it.

The first three days I walked, I would be on that trail for seven or eight continuous walking . . . in Newcastle and its suburbs . . . and I'd get to a bus stop, and I'd be back at the hostel in thirty damn minutes. That was just so wrong on so many levels. And I was tired. And the instructions were not all that clear, and the signage was not all that wonderful. And I'm walking through town, for sweet Pity's sake. 

And then I came upon this wall fragment.
It was a hundred yards long.
It was four and five feet high.
It was eight feet thick.
It was massive.
And it was built by people like me. Younger, but like me.
And it had been there "forever."
And it filled me up.

It was uphill from the River Tyne for the entire day.

At this point my strategy changed decisively. I will walk this path with a smaller bag, carrying food, water, and weather gear (sweater and rainproof), and leave my rucksack back at the hostel. I can get home in less than an hour. 

That wound up working. I slept in my own bed every night and commuted to and from the wall. It was one way of doing it.

I'm already planning the next walk campground-to- campground. Maybe even to Ravenglass. I have to do some more research.

Life is good.

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