Walk To Rivendell" aka "The Eowyn Challenge"

[Nurumaiel]

Thanks for the kind welcome back, Estelyn! I'm quite enthusiastic about 'Tolkien-ifying' my little strolls, and more enthusiastic about taking the little strolls in the first place. I'm still trying to decide whether I should follow Frodo and Sam, or get captured along with Merry and Pippin, or join the Three Hunters. But no dying alongside Boromir for me, thank you very much!
_________________

10.5 miles, on the way to the Green Hill Country
It was at twilight last night that we began to move upwards, and then for a moment we stopped to catch that last view of Hobbiton and Bywater. Standing there, in the dim cool of evening, atop the slopes with a breeze tickling my cheeks to a blush, I felt as if I was transported into some airy, magical land of faraway. The stars seemed to have descended to the ground, twinkling in their thousand diamonds as a reflection from the Pool. The faint sound of laughter drifted to our ears as hobbits bid each other farewell from their late night at the inn. We stood in silence for a little while, and then we moved on. We had only walked a few minutes more when Frodo turned and waved his hand farewell. I think the poor laddie takes the leaving much harder than anyone else. I'm just out for the adventure of going to Rivendell, and Pippin and Sam are quite content and cheerful to go to Crickhollow with Frodo and help him settle in? which means that not too far from now I'll be bidding farewell to the hobbits and going on without them.

But not by myself! As we set out this morning we were assailed on the road by the perky chap of before, who notified us that he wanted to come along. We questioned him, or, rather, I questioned him, and at first nothing very sensible could be got from him. He told us he was an Elf, and we gazed rather dubiously at his short stature. He eventually decided that he was a hobbit, and when asked his name, he would not give any further information, but said he should be called 'Hobbit.'

So with Hobbit we went on, and though we were delayed for a little while by a baby running out from his home and attacking us with ferocious cries, we got two miles done before our lunch, which Sam cooked marvelously. We ran a quarter of a mile at first, but my legs had begun to ache from the first six miles of running, and for the remainder of the morning we walked.

We were slowed, though not completely stopped as in the incident with the hobbit baby, by a rosy-cheeked boy who wanted to hold our hands and walk with us. He had a limp and could not move very swiftly, but nobody seemed to mind in the least. Sam, especially, took a liking to the little fellow. He had identified himself as AidanHobbit, and went along with us for a quarter of a mile.

It was blue out again today, but it was not so bright out, as a thin layer of clouds had dimmed the skies, leaving them a pale mixture of grey and blue. To the northeast the sky was free from any clouds, just visible above the treetops. The breeze was a constant thing, but very gentle and not too chilly... it was just enough of a breeze to put a light, airy feeling inside of you that sinks to your very bones and makes you feel as young and frisky as you ever could feel.

[Nurumaiel]

18 miles, in the Green Hill Country
We reached the Green Hill Country tonight, and speaking for myself, my legs were aching and I was quite willing to stop there. We had none of the scrumptious cinnamon bread that I had packed when we set out left, for we ate it all yesterday (the whole loaf!). That was a disappointment, for after the four miles we trekked yesterday, that cinnamon bread (homemade, of course) refreshed me greatly.

We passed over a bridge just a few miles before we reached the Green Hill Country. Though the snow was still crowding above most of the stream, forming a tunnel, there were gaps here and there about the bridge, and I paused for a moment to gaze into the water. It was running with gentle ripples, for it was a roaring stream of rapids, but rather a slow, meandering stream, quite content to mind its own business as long as we minded ours. Though its generally straight and level path made it so easy and slow, it was a little bit of a sorrow to have none of those delightful waterfalls slipping down the mossy rocks. The trees leaned over the water, forming a sort of bower, though their tops did not meet in the middle, and so the sun, or rather what was left of it as evening drew near, streamed through.

The last few hundred yards were particularly strenuous, as I had already been rather worn out, and going steeply uphill was not gratifying to my state. I don't know exactly what time it is, nor how far we're to travel tomorrow, but I do know this... I'm going to procure some of that comforting cinnamon bread as soon as we reach Crickhollow.

[Anorial]

Hi everybody! Hey Nurumaiel, I'm totally still walking and even posted on this page Please add me to your list. I'm nearly at Hollin Ridge depending if you are using Fonstad's reckoning or not. Currently standing at 675 miles though I haven't walked today yet.

Cheers!
Anorial

[Maeggaladiel]

Quick question: I read the first post on this thread, which said that this was meant to see how many people could make it from point A to point B before the movie was released. I see that people are still walking, but is it okay for someone, oh, say me, to start my journey now? Or are you closed to new adventurers? I am pretty late, I'll admit.

Already has a walking stick,
~Maeg

[Estelyn Telcontar]

It's never too late to join the walk, Maeggaladiel! New participants are always welcome; we're scattered all over Middle-earth by now anyway. Post here to let us know of your progress, and if you keep your mileage in your profile location, we'll be able to see how far you are!

By the way, I found out that not only did Karen Wynn Fonstad supply the mileage data for the Éowyn site, but she has also joined the Walk! How cool is that?!

[Maeggaladiel]

(Great! Thanks!)

Yesterday and the day before have brought me seven and a half miles into my journey. Sunday led me from the brightly-painted door of Bag End to Bywater, and by last night I found myself bidding Hobbiton farewell.

It is odd, but I feel I shall miss this land and its people greatly. I have been here for but a short time, yet the Shirefolk have made me feel at home.

Too much at home, I realized soon after leaving. I fear that the hobbit hospitality has made me a bit soft during my brief visit. I hadn't traveled a few hours before my stomach began rumbling. My companions found this most amusing, saying that my stomach was louder than the pack of wargs in Bilbo's story.

Our spirits are high as we leave the pleasant Hobbiton behind and take the first few steps into the wild. Of course, it's a very mild wilderness: the only wild animals this close to Hobbiton are a pack of hungry squirrels and some wicked crows that cawed at us as we drew closer to them.

It is another ten and a half miles before reaching our next landmark. I am in no hurry: the walk is almost as pleasant as the company of my friends. I shall miss them when we part ways.

[Nurumaiel]

Welcome to the Walk, Maeggaladiel! You seem to be walking very sure and steady, and making good time. It's a pleasure to have you.

48 miles, almost to Stock
For the past few miles we've had up and down roads, which can be quite annoying at times. At first it's delightful, for one is always trying to guess what will be over the next hill, and who will be over the next hill, and what will happen when one climbs the next hill... but after some time of such guessing, it grows dull and monotonous, and I begin to wish the road would make up its mind and go either up or down very steadily! As soon as I grow accustomed to walking up a hill, I'm going down one, and the other way around.

A few miles back we saw a frightening, crouching figure cloaked in black. It was no Hobbit, certainly, and none of the Elf-kind creep in that way. It seems most likely that it was a man, yet why he would go on in that way I don't understand. He crept along the road, stooped over, and he was sniffing, as if trying to catch some scent. I have never seen any man act that way, and nor have I gained such an impression of horror at the sight of any man... there was an atmosphere of dread as this cloaked figure passed by. Since I saw him, my heart hasn't been nearly as light. The bends in the road that used to give me a delightful expectation of what might lie around it now give me a chill of fear, wondering if perhaps that stooping black figure will be crouched down before me.

And furthermore, since I saw him, the weather has become more gloomy. Even as I write, a thick fog has descended and swirls about me. The feeling of light adventure had disappeared, and now where my feet once tripped and skipped, they drag now, as I glance apprehensively over my shoulder to make sure we are not being followed by that crouching figure.

It will be altogether comforting when we reach Crickhollow. To be surrounded by walls and covered by a roof will ease my mind, I am sure. I'm equally sure that my imagination has run away with me, and the fact that the man was shrouded in black excited my thoughts. It can't be something so frightful as it seems to be.