CONQUER THE LAKES
Cross the Lake District in 10 days, swimming the length of 14 of the largest lakes while hiking between them. It’s a daunting challenge and one that pushed Matt Williams to the limits of his endurance
He swam 14 Lakeland waters, hiking between them on a gruelling 10-day challenge – Matt Williams tells his tale.
For 15 minutes, I’d been fighting my way through flooded forest to reach the shore of Rydal Water. It was raining so hard I could barely tell where the water ended and the air began. Far behind schedule, I was alone, rapidly losing the light and nearly out of phone battery.
Suddenly, I was thrown forward, plunging up to my neck in cold water. Something had tripped me: a branch hidden beneath the floodwaters. Warding off my rising panic, I recovered my balance and pushed on. A few minutes later – to my relief – I was rewarded, as the trees finally opened out to clear water. I waded out and began to swim the third and final lake of the day.
Twenty minutes later, exhausted and in the last of the evening light, I reached the other side. My anxious wife Bryony – by now close to tears – waved me into the beach. “Everything is soaked,” she announced. “We’re going to the pub for dinner.”
So day one ended. It had been tougher than we could have imagined, thanks to non-stop rain, floodwater, ‘killer’ swans, blue-green algae and overwhelmingly complicated logistics. The challenge of completing nine more days like this – including 11 more lakes to swim – seemed impossible.
A TEST OF ENDURANCE
That morning in August 2019, I’d started my attempt to become the first person to swim the length of all 13 of the large lowland bodies of water in the Lake District, plus one upland tarn, in one continuous push, walking between them all. The route included diversions over two of Lakeland’s highest fells, Scafell Pike and Helvellyn. In 10 days, I’d have to swim 43 miles and hike 108 miles, camping along the way, with support from Bryony in our campervan, Ruby.
Why take on such a daunting task? I’d been looking for a unique way to raise money for Macmillan Cancer Support, at my sister Lucy’s request, after she received help from them following a cancer diagnosis in 2018. But I must add, I’m used to taking on big endurance events; in 2011, I became the fourth person ever to complete the Peak and Pond challenge – successfully reaching the summit of Mount Everest after swimming the English Channel the previous year.
My family are partly to blame for my love of adventure. I was born in the desert in Namibia, and we’d go on family camping trips every weekend; I was always scrambling to see what was over the horizon or round the next bend. I swam from a young age and played every sport I could, then, after finishing school, I competed in triathlons, reaching British Junior Championship level.
Why do I take on such extreme challenges? I’m not really sure. I suppose they’re a form of escapism, but escapism you have to work really hard for.
TAKING THE FIRST PLUNGE
Despite these past experiences, it became clear that logistics and weather would make the Lakeland challenge tough. Arranging to meet at the beginning and end of 16 hikes and 14 swims, plus keeping on schedule, fed, clothed, as well as illness- and injury-free for 10 days was a mammoth task for me and my support team of one.
So it had been with a mix of relief and dread that I had pushed out against the flow across the first lake, Elterwater. While protected
“It had been tougher than we could have imagined, thanks to floods, ‘killer’ swans and blue-green algae”
from the worst of the chill by my wetsuit, the brown-green lakes were in full flood after weeks of rain, so visibility was poor, and for the first two days I was swimming solo. Strands of vegetation would suddenly appear ahead of me out of the gloom and cause mild panic: no solo swimmer wants to become tangled in weed.
On day three, the first sunny morning dawned for the crossing of Ullswater, at seven miles long, the second largest lake in the national park. It was also the first I had swum with boat traffic, so I was fortunate to have several friends on stand-up paddleboards to support me. The next day, we hiked over Helvellyn to Derwent Water, which I swam the following day, before hiking to Bassenthwaite Lake.
The Loweswater, Crummock Water and Buttermere stretch was simply stunning. The clearest, warmest and best-tasting lakes of the lot – yes, you can’t help but drink some of the water when swimming for that long. Throw into that a fly-by for us by the RAF, and my sister joining me to swim Loweswater, and day six was probably the highlight.
THE CLOUDS GATHER
From day seven, the fair weather left us for good. I went over Scafell Pike in white-out fog, and turned back on Sca Fell, fearing for my safety. It was in Wast Water that evening that I first felt cold. It is the deepest and coldest of the lakes, and I was beginning to tire. Mentally, I was starting to struggle and I was losing weight despite mammoth amounts of eating. I simply didn’t have the time to make up for the calorie deficit I was running every day.
Over the next two days, I walked to Coniston via Devoke Water in deteriorating conditions. On the morning of the Coniston Chillswim race, which I’d planned to join, the organisers
announced that the start was delayed by five hours due to bad weather. This was a disaster. I no longer had time to swim Coniston and then walk the 13 miles to the Windermere One Way race for my 7.30am start the next day. Exhausted and emotional, I was at my lowest ebb. It felt as if, after nine days of toil, my goal was being cruelly torn away at the last moment by a situation no one could control.
In the end, I did the walk to Windermere on the morning before the Coniston swim, in torrential rain along country lanes. It was one of the hardest walks I have ever done.
A FINAL EPIC EFFORT
Leaving the longest lake in England until last was a blessing and a curse. After 10 days, I was starting to struggle with the cold, shoulder pain – and boredom. Now the finish line was in sight, but only just, as it was 11 miles away, on the far shore of Windermere.
Finally reaching the finish line, where my family and friends were gathered and where
I’d started 10 days prior, was a really special moment and one I will never forget.
The final word must go to the support I received throughout, which was incredible. Thanks to the media attention, several people recognised me along the way, cheering me on and donating cash on the lakeside. Swimmers I had never met had come to join me, and offered to put us up for the night. Friends and family had given their time and travelled up to guide me on paddleboards, kayaks and on foot through wind, rain and sunshine.
By the end of the challenge, with their help, we raised over £8,000 for Macmillan Cancer Support, which I will always be proud of. I also created lifelong memories and experiences that I will always treasure, and hopefully inspired a few people, too.
• Matt is fundraising for Macmillan Cancer Support. virginmoneygiving.com/mattwilliamsdoessomestuff
When he isn’t swimming, climbing or cycling somewhere, Matt is building large-scale renewable energy projects. He lives in Manchester with his wife Bryony, their cat Vinnie and puppy Juno.