Whilst the Spine Race presents a huge challenge for the runners, it is arguably even more of a challenge for the organisers. In both cases it is necessary to be prepared for all eventualities and try and have strategies in place to cope with them should they arise. In the case of the organisers this meant that there were several pre-planned diversions that could be put in place if necessary. Dean Clough had been a benign little stream, not he raging torrent it can be, so that diversion wasn’t used, the weather on Pen-y-Ghent was OK so we didn’t need to be diverted around that, and the banks of the Tees weren’t flooded around Bowlees so that diversion wasn’t used either. However the last pre-planned diversion was in use. Cauldron Snout was deemed to icy and dangerous to climb up so we would be diverted around it. I’m absolutely certain this was the correct decision as the Spine organisation doesn’t mollycoddle the runners and would only divert us if there was an unacceptable level of danger to life and limb, not just because it might be a bit difficult. I was quite looking forward to seeing Cauldron Snout in the snow so this was a little disappointing. However every cloud and all that – it did mean we would also miss the boulder field at Falcon Clints, which I have no love for whatsoever, and I suspect would also have been a nightmare if said boulders were covered in ice.
I didn’t have the diversion on the course on my watch as it would have meant I would need multiple versions of the course but I did have it on my handheld device. It wasn’t terribly difficult anyway, just across a few fields and then along a road until we rejoined the original course near the Cow Green reservoir. Also being a diversion it was marked.
I left Checkpoint Three just before 8am and more less caught the sunrise.
We had been told very firmly that we must close ALL gates on the diversion route. I was struggling with a chain and spring clip that was securing a gate I’d just gone through when the farmer came over on his quad bike and asked if I was a runner or an organiser. I told him I was a runner, which was just as well as he made it very clear he wasn’t too happy with the race organisers as his gates kept getting left open. I apologised on behalf of the Spine Race and chatted to him for a while until he had vented his feelings about every walker, runner and hiker that had caused him various problems in the past. He seemed a little calmer after that and we parted on good terms. A little further on I decided to pass this on to Spine HQ and ask if they could pass the message to CP3 to really, really emphasise how important it was to close the gates, even if some weren’t the easiest to secure. Of course no good deed goes unpunished, I took my glove off to make the call and by the time I’d finished my hand was more or less frozen to my phone and in all sorts of pain. Fortunately I didn’t do any permanent damage to my hand but it does demonstrate how easy it is to do something without thinking and pay the price afterwards.
By now I was nearly back on the Pennine Way. I took a couple of pictures of the reservoir simply because I’d never actually seen it before.
Even without Cauldron Snout, Leg Four of the Spine Race takes in a couple of the real icons of the Pennine Way. The first is High Cup Nick and I was soon back on the trail and headed High Cup-wards.
The Pennine Way goes along the North Eastern edge of High Cup Nick. As I’ve mentioned before, there were some fairly easy tracks to follow in the snow and here was no exception. The only thing was that, in my opinion, they all went the wrong way. They appeared to go up when the GPX file was telling me to go along. One of the things you are always told when navigating a race is not to blindly follow others – even if ‘others’ does appear to be every single person in front of you. I took the ‘correct’, slightly narrow unbroken path and was presented with an ‘interesting’ bit of water crossing at Strand’s Beck. After the event I think I do remember taking a higher path some time previously and finding that the water crossing was much easier. Anyway I didn’t get wet, I didn’t die and fairly soon everyone agreed where the path was again.
The path became a track which became a road into Dufton. Some caution was needed because of the ice but I didn’t care. Everyone has their own personal favourite parts of the race and I was approaching one of mine at Dufton, the Post Box Pantry! I’d had a full English breakfast there on the Summer spine in 2022 and ever since I’d entered the Winter Spine I had been praying that the running Gods would look upon me favourably and see me arrive in Dufton in time for another one. Quarter past one in the afternoon – perfect! I was a little confused as the sign outside the shop told me the shop was 100 yards down the road but I didn’t fall for that and went in anyway. After ‘breakfast’ I dropped in at CP3,5 in Dufton Village Hall and was helped into my waterproof trousers.
I was going to need all the energy and help I could get for the next part of the race, the infamous, legendary Cross Fell. Cross Fell is the highest point in England outside the Lake District and apparently you have to travel 3000 miles East before you reach another point as high in the Urals, which goes some way to explaining why it can have such high winds, the wind gets a really good run up at it. However there are a few other fells involved. There is a 4 mile climb along Hurning Lane and over Green Fell before you reach Knock Fell. I had hoped to be there for sunrise but was a little late.
I’d love to be all blase and cool and say I breezed over Cross Fell without any worries but I can’t. I was scared. I live in Essex, two things we don’t have, mountains and snow (even if there is a list of 13 mountains in Essex). This was the furthest the race had yet pushed me out of my comfort zone. After Knock Fell there is a climb to the giant golf ball on Great Dun Fell followed by a drop and a climb up Little Dun Fell. It was windy, I had my googles on and I was mainly relying on following the tracks of others. Except where I couldn’t find any, then it was a case of trudging through snow, trusting the GPS and hoping to pick up some tracks.
The difference between me and a person that is experienced in these conditions was sharply illustrated when what I thought was a trig point on Little Dun Fell turned out to be a person. It was one of the safety team from Dufton, he’d trotted up to Cross Fell just to see the sunrise and was now confidently heading back. I was still a bit scared.
The marshal had warned me that it was a bit of a drop down and a climb back up to finally reach Cross Fell. The head of the Tees river is in the dip between Little Dun and Cross Fell. I managed the down and up OK and then had a bit of a trek until I finally reached the highest point.
Another runner caught me up at the top, he had thoroughly enjoyed his crossing, I was just relieved I’d made it without getting into any sort of difficulty. I was so relieved that after a while I apparently decided to leave the path from Cross Fell to the track to Greg’s Hut and wade through snow on my own ‘path’.
Despite my ‘exuberance’ I soon arrived at Greg’s Hut ready for the next part of the culinary odyssey that was Leg 4 of the Winter Spine Race, John Bamber’s legendary Chilliwack noodles! These are not a feature of the Summer Spine Race and may have been one of the complicated and hard to describe reasons I entered the Winter Spine Race in the first place.
I was welcomed in sat down and my food and drink order taken. Sweet coffee for my drink and noodles with a little bit of chilli to eat. I had heard much about the Chilliwack and decided I would treat it with respect.
Sadly after my noodles and a couple of coffees I had to go back out into the cold to complete the last 10 miles to Alston.
As I left Greg’s Hut I did what I’d been doing for most of the day and followed some footprints. I don’t know where the guy whose footprints I followed was going, it may have involved a shovel, but I quickly realised he wasn’t going back onto the track and so I reverted to stumbling around in snow until I was back on course.
I was starting to notice that my best time of day seemed to be in the evening, especially after some carbs and caffeine. It would be a gross exaggeration to say I raced down from Greg’s Hut to Garrigill but I didn’t feel like I was hanging about either. The snow actually improved the path compared to Summer and so something almost like running occurred in places. The only moment of note involved an ATV coming up the track towards me. As it passed me the driver may have shouted ‘Well Done!’ but to me it sounded like ‘Knobhead!’ If it was the latter I can only assume I annoyed him by shining my head torch straight at him. Although I was moving well my brain wasn’t firing on all cylinders, if any, and it took me a while to process what was happening as the ATV approached me, during which time I was probably ruining the drivers night vision. Anyway if he was annoyed with me at least he was content with a passing insult and didn’t stop to discuss the matter further.
By the time I got the Garrigill I had completely trashed my Yaktrax. This was annoying as it meant I had to start being a bit careful and trying to make sure I avoided icy patches. I passed a Spine Safety Team in Garrigill and continued onwards.
There was a bit of a pre-planned diversion from Garrigill to Alston. The Pennine Way takes a pleasant if sometimes muddy path along the river to a bridge. Unfortunately said bridge was out of action and so we would take an alternative path on the North side of the river. I didn’t enjoy it. It felt to me very much like a path no one used, maintained or wanted. The detour didn’t add much to the overall distance and only lasted a couple of miles but it felt tedious and a bit energy draining.
Anyway I was eventually back onto bits I recognised and less than 2 miles from Checkpoint Four with its world famous lasagne and more importantly Chris and Rachel would be there so I knew I would get a very warm welcome (not that everyone doesn’t) and a bit of a lift by seeing some familiar faces.
Sure enough, Rachel was waiting for me just outside the checkpoint to walk in with me and get me sorted. Her shift had finished some hours before but she had promised she would be there when I arrived and she looked after me until I went off to try and sleep. Chris also came and gave me a hug so I felt quite loved.
Checkpoint Four was a huge milestone for me, not just because of the people but the point in represented in my head – halfway. In distance it was some way over half way but in terms of what it would need from me between Alston and Kirk Yetholm I judged it to be half way. I was going to take my full eight hours here and have a shower and a final change of kit. Most it was the same but I was going for some slightly warmer tights for the last two legs. I still had a huge amount to do but I felt my chances of getting to the finish were getting better all the time…
The Only Way Is Pennine... 