Horseshoe Hike Day 1 - Kato Pakna
The full complement of fifteen teams, eighty teenagers in all, eventually finally lined up at the start point, sixty minutes later than planned. The rest of the teams had been waiting, frustrated, prevented from starting until the nights events had been addressed, if not resolved.
Another group of twenty or so members of various support teams, many in uniform, were also present at the start point. They formed the wider hike support team and each year did an excellent job marshalling the teams, manning checkpoints, providing first aid, logistics, transport and rescue if required. They also prepared the pre-planned camp sites for the duration of the hike. Five of the six nights would be spent sleeping in tents carried by the teams but on the fourth night all the hikers would spend the night in relative luxury on the floor of basic wood and concrete cabins at the RAF Troodos Mountain Camp.
As a family the Berresfords had spent several weeks over the years at the mountain top camp in the lodges, using it as base for skiing in the winter or to take a break in the relative cool of the mountains during the long hot Cyprus summers.
In a few short months Alex and his family would once more have good reason to be thankful for the refuge and security provided by the small mountain top camp.
* * *
By the end of a long but routine first day, the teams had safely covered nearly 15 miles. Moving at vastly differing paces, the teams had quickly spread out, though in the main they travelled along a common route. The first checkpoint, half way through the day, was positioned next to an old disused sheep fold and had brought several teams together.
As with virtually all firsts on day one the initial check-in and log book stamping process had been greeted with ridiculous enthusiasm. Team members proudly looking down at their first official stamp – Sheep Fold - a truly profound moment. The first night campsite was reached by descending a short but steep downhill rocky track. The campsite being set amongst the old and cut off trees of a medium sized olive grove on the outskirts of a small village called Kato, or lower, Pakna. The olive trees providing ample shade for the teams to pitch tents as they filtered in over a two or three hour period late afternoon.
It was not a race. That fact had been endlessly and vigorously drummed home by the hike organisers, but even so teenage boys are naturally competitive and during long days with miles between checkpoints, the organising team had only limited control. As a result, several teams adopted a spirited if not quite aggressive stance, assiduously noting their 'position' at each interim checkpoint as well their finishing position and that of their closest 'competitors' each day. This aspect of the hike was more important to some teams than others. The boarders'; clearly one of the keenest and best prepared teams, finished 2nd of the sixteen teams on day one.
In this area and in common with several other teams, including all the girls' teams, the two BG Teams were laid back if not blasé. They deliberately took the opposite approach, adopting a cool and contemptuous attitude to anyone who actually took it that seriously. Of course they also knew their hiking skills, ability and drive to keep up a fast pace through long tough days was also somewhat lacking.
So it was no surprise that the two BG teams finished late in the afternoon just before 6pm in 13th and 14th positions. As it happened, Alex's team finished just five minutes after Kate's girls team from Akrotiri. The two teams dumped their rucksacks, engaging in light-hearted and friendly banter while nearby the team leaders trudged over to stand in line to complete the days' final checkpoint administration. As other team members chatted casually, Alex used the opportunity to sidle nonchalantly across and sit down near Kate.
"Hi Kate, how you doing? Pretty tough for day one eh?" Alex tentatively opened.
The terrain the first day had been mainly flat, with minimal overall gain in height. Even so progress was slow, often along very shallow, rocky river beds. They would later learn that all the hikers had completed the day successfully. Even so the first aid tent would be a busy location later treating the first wave of blisters along with minor cuts and scratches.
Kate looked up, met Alex's eye and smiled a brilliant smile. Though clearly exhausted, hair plastered down on her head under a faded red baseball cap, her baggy camouflage shorts doing her no favours, the smile instantly lifted Alex's spirits.
"You're right, it was pretty tough Alex. My feet are sore, but no real blisters. Can't wait to get these boots off though. We did ok, Lesley is a really good map reader, not that we needed too much of that today. What about you, how did you get on after all that nonsense this morning?
"Not too bad I suppose. We didn't rush, obviously, but G did a great job. He's a pretty good leader, much better at map reading and all that stuff than the rest of us. I reckon you did pretty well Kate", grinning as he added "well, you finished ahead of us anyway."
"Hey, don't sound so surprised, being ahead of you guys really wasn't so hard!"
They both fell silent for a few seconds until Kate looked up, speaking softly. "Alex, I'm really sorry about, you know .... the disco last week and Tristan and everything. He can get a bit jealous. He's not stuck up like you all think, but he doesn't like it when you're around, so please don't try to wind him up". Slowly dropping her eyes to look down at the ground in front of her she continued, "especially as he knows that I .... well I like you ..... you know as a good friend I mean."
Alex had always loved the soft tone of her voice and Kate, like everyone else, knew he had fancied her for ages, but she'd never spoken to him like this before. Even the one time they had snogged it had been a spur of the moment, short, never to be mentioned again type thing. Now, qualified or not, Kate had told him directly she really liked him. It gave Alex the confidence to respond, but equally he didn't want to spoil it by getting carried away.
Nonetheless, suitably emboldened he smiled gently and decided to push his luck just a little.
"Jealous of me eh, I quite like that. Well Kate, whatever he is or isn't, you know how I feel about you. I don't care for Tristan, but if he leaves me alone and treats you the way you deserve, then I won't do anything to cause trouble ......... though when you do tire of him, you know I'll be around."
Alex left the thought hanging for a beat, wondering how or even if Kate would respond.
Kate looked up at Alex and raised her eyebrows, frowning a little before allowing herself a minute smile.
"Hey, don't get carried away Alex. I like a lot of boys, you know. I wouldn't want you to think you're special or anything." She looked straight into Alex's eyes for a beat longer than normal, before smiling impishly and slowly turning to wander back towards her teammates. Alex watched her walk away, not sure exactly what to make of the conversation or that final lingering look.
After a few moments he sighed, picked up his kit and with a last glance at Kate turned back towards his team. Alex had never previously said half that much about how he really felt to anybody. He wanted to know exactly what Kate had meant, but at the same time he was afraid what she might say if he pushed her and the last thing he wanted was to embarrass either of them. Let it lie a while he thought. The hike was a week long and even with double barrel what's his face around, Alex felt sure he'd get chances to talk again with Kate. When that happened he could take his cue from her.
G and the other team leaders returned and the groups went their separate ways. Hefting rucksacks onto shoulders, they turned to find suitable camping spots and fetch water from the water truck. Alex made for the central food tent, requesting and receiving the overnight food boxes for their two teams, 1/6 & 1/7 reflecting the day and respective team numbers. Kate re-joined the rest of her team as they moved off to the rear of the grove and the small area reserved for the girls' tents.
The many hike rules had been drummed into all the teams over the previous few months and again before the start. To comply, the first priority each evening was to prepare a detailed route map for the next day. This needed to be submitted to the marshals before 8pm. If this deadline was missed, the entire offending team risked disqualification. So, as some team members set up tents, sorted out sleeping bags and started the evening meal, the team 'planners' sat aside to complete detailed route maps, ready for submission, scrutiny and approval. As all teams started from the same point each day and were hiking to a predetermined camp site each night, there were limited options in terms of possible routes. As a result, the purpose of this directive to submit maps and plans each evening was at least as much about being able to demonstrate the discipline and planning skills required. Only the more aggressive and competitive teams, hoping to be among the first to finish, regularly planned to take tougher, more direct routes to save time. The vast majority were more practical, following established mountain paths and contours, happy to utilise the full permitted time each day.
G had the route map completed for BG team one in plenty of time, then moved on to help Rick and Gordy complete the team two plan. The two route maps were virtually identical. This was no surprise or issue and at least half the other teams would be following the same, obvious, route on the second day. Day 2 was roughly 18 miles, including the start of some meaningful climbs as they moved into the Troodos foothills. Starting from Kato Pakna the day would end at a small village called Lophos.
Plans for the hike to Lophos completed, Gordy and G headed over to the marshals tent to register both documents. As they did so the planners from several other teams were just leaving the marshals tent. Among them were lads from three of the Akrotiri based teams and striding confidently out at the head of a group of four boys was a tall lad called Roger. Out from England himself for Easter, he was a good mate of Tristan and he led the boarders' team. Behind him came Tristan and the Cox brothers, identical bull like twins; only sixteen but already built like budding rugby prop forwards. The twins lived in Cyprus and went to St. Johns' but kept mainly to themselves and had, nor seemed to want, many friends.
As Gordy and G passed them, Roger took a deliberate sidestep, elbowing G in the process, knocking the maps and plans out of his hands. Half turning Roger sneered sideways at G, "Sorry, didn't see you there chum. Didn't think you stragglers would be here for another hour or so".
Tristan picked up from his mate, clearly wanting to add his own two-penny worth, "If it wasn't for you BG yobs we'd have been away first thing this morning and first to finish. Why don't you and that little Berresford jerk just give up now, you've got no bloody clue what you're doing anyway". Tristan turned slightly and the Cox twins sniggered on cue.
Luckily neither G nor Gordy had a particularly short fuse. The warnings that morning from the marshals were still ringing in their ears and they knew their every action would be monitored. Consequently, neither responded immediately, taking a breath instead before bending to pick up the plans.
On the other hand, regardless of the scrutiny they were under or sensible restraint, the lanky boarder and his mate with the stupid double-barrelled name were clearly knobs. So, with plans in hand again, G saw their smug grins and felt perhaps a response was warranted. With a disarming smile on his face and whilst being several inches shorter, G stepped up close to Roger and issued a considered and pithy, "Well 'Rodge' you pompous twat, if we're into giving advice, why don't you all just fuck right off!", before turning to skip smartly into the marshals tent alongside Gordy.
"Nice one G. I think you pitched that just about right. Smart yet concise as always", was Gordy's only comment. They smiled at each other but G knew he'd have been better to hold his tongue. There was trouble brewing.