The Winter Spine Race 2024 – it’s cold outside…(Part One)

When I first decided I was going to take on the Spine Race there was only one thing I was very definite about - I would only ever do the Summer version. The Winter version was cold, dark and had no appeal to me whatsoever.

Anyway it’s January 2024 and I’m waiting to register for the Winter Spine and go through kit check, so what went wrong – or as a very unlikely outside possibility, right?

This is question which has occupied my mind quite a lot since I decided to sign up for Winter 2024 and it’s hard to give a coherent answer. If you are of a certain inclination the Spine can really get under your skin. I think for me it’s the people involved. They make you believe you can do it and give you the support and encouragement to turn belief into reality.

One of the most important people in the Spine organisation from my perspective was Lindley Chambers. I needed kit advice, one option is to ask in the Facebook group and get as many different opinions as replies. The other is to ask Lindley. For instance I had more or less the smallest, lightest sleeping kit that met kit requirements, all of which I had been pointed to by Lindley. I wasn’t planning on bivvying out so whilst I needed kit that would perform in an emergency, I was less worried about long term durability or comfort and was happy to lose some of that in return for less weight to carry.

Kit check is fairly straightforward. Some people will get a full kit check but most will get checked on a selection of items based on their race number. I was checked on the ‘yellow’ list, which included the previously mentioned sleeping bag. I didn’t mention its Japanese and has no rating label. Fortunately Lindley was on hand and admitted that he really should pass it as he was the one that told me to buy it!

After passing kit check I was issued with a tattoo of Lindley which would allow me to complete my registration.

Fortunately it washed off

I managed to remember my name, Sharon’s name, some phone numbers and my race number. I’d also taken my ID so I was given a number and photographed with it. The photo is for the tracker page – I think it’s to give the Safety Teams some idea of what to look for if I get lost.

Quite a fair attempt at a smile given how terrified I was!

We were spending the night before the race at Rushop Hall, the same place we stayed before the 2022 Summer Spine. Another Spine Racer, Allan Anderson was also at the B&B so we gave him a lift to the start with us.

The only thing to do in the morning was have my tracker fitted and wait until it was time to start.

Not sure I was ever going to be faster but at least I made it to the start

At 8am precisely (more or less) we were off! Strangely it was actually a much nicer morning than when I did the Summer spine in 2022. Yes it was (much) colder but the sky was clear with the promise of a brilliant sunrise – which I missed.

This would have been an amazing sunrise if I could have been bothered to wait 5 minutes

This was a part of the Pennine Way I’d run several times before – most recently in June on the Summer Spine Sprint with Sharon. Due to the Summer Sprint starting at 12pm and sunset in Winter being several hours earlier, I was expecting to lose the light at a similar point to that of the Sprint so I was fairly confident about the first leg at least.

Heading towards Nether Booth…
….and its phone box

Once the sun rose the views were stunning. Sadly I only managed a few decidedly average pictures as I was concentrating on the race and not messing up at the start.

Heading up to the Kinder Plateau

The first climb took us to Kinder Low. apparently ‘Low’ has nothing to do with it being not quite as high as Kinder Scout but means meadow. personally I always imagine meadows with less rocks in them but that’s just me.

The first peak – Kinder Low

I continued over the plateau without too many mishaps – I think I may have tripped once or twice – until I reached Kinder Downfall, which had some water in it but still not a lot.

The Mermaid’s Pool – I think

After a while I tentatively negotiated the the steps down to Snake Path and carried on up Mill Hill and the fairly easy slabbed path to the A57.

The section from Snake Pass to Bleaklow is one of many sections of the Pennine Way I’m not fond of. It starts of as the Devils Dike (Drain) and is twisty muddy gully. This section was made more entertaining by having to occasionally step aside for the fell runners racing towards me on their event. Eventually I got to Torside where I made my traditional navigational error (it’s the lower path). We had been warned at the start that the Mountain Rescue Team (MRT) who usually provided hot drinks at Torside were out on a call so it was a case of carrying on to Laddow Rocks.

After the Rocks I was expecting it to be quite wet up to Black Hill so I was quite happy to find that actually it wasn’t too bad and my waterproof socks were more than up to the job. Soon the path became slabbed and so the danger of getting excessively wet had passed – or so you would have thought…

I saw a runner ahead of me stop at a slightly dodgy section of path that appeared to be missing a slab or two. I quickly assessed my options and decided I could go round. It was a diversion of about 20 paces. The first 15 were fine. The last 4 were fine. The 16th saw me up to my delicate bits in very cold water…

Snoopy’s Food Van was at Wessenden Head and I bought myself a Coke and a sweet coffee. I could have had a bacon sandwich as well but I uncharacteristically turned this down as I was planning a stop a Nicky’s Food Bar, eight miles further on.

Slightly icy reservoir with not a lot of water in it

Some work was being done on the Pennine Way at Wessenden which meant there was a small diversion. The path was longer but a bit less steep so I don’t think I gained or lost from it.

I did start to question my decision not to have a bacon sandwich at Snoopy’s but eventually I arrived at Nicky’s Food Bar where Nicky was proudly showing of her Spine jacket. I had my bacon sandwich, coffee, coke and a banana. Nicky deserves her jacket as she provides food and a comfort for every single Spine Runner that passes, Sprint, Southern Challenger and Full. She doesn’t get to sleep much for a couple of days!

Nice jacket!

My friend Paul always tells me to look out for the red rose of Lancashire as I cross the M62 but I’ve never seen it. He also mentioned an old Roman road. I did know where that was so I took a photo – by now it was very dark.

A bit of Roman road

It was somewhere on this section I nearly had a complete disaster. My left shoulder was aching slightly. The left water bottle was also full of some not particularly pleasant tasting water. I think the safety teams put purification tablets in the jerry cans we fill our bottles from, which is a good idea from a hygiene perspective but does give the water a very ‘chlorine’ taste. Anyway I decided that as I had enough other water to get me to CP1, I could empty the bottle and slightly reduce the load on the shoulder strap. The empty bottle really didn’t want to go into bottle holder. I took my glove off and spent the next five minutes or so wrestling the bottle into the holder. Then I went to put my glove back on… except I’d managed to drop my my glove and be completely unaware of the fact. Slight panic. I did have a second pair (it’s part of the kit list ot have two pairs) but I certainly didn’t want to lose a glove this early on – or at all really. Fortunately my head torch has three settings, adequate for most things (which I’d been using), quite a bit brighter for finding gates and stiles, and daylight. I engaged daylight mode, retraced my steps and fortunately found my glove. I took this as a valuable lesson. At the moment I was quite fresh and with it. Later in the week I would have to be really careful if I removed any kit.

I passed the marshals outside the White House pub and set off into what, in my mind, is the home straight. The run around various reservoirs is straightforward. The run to Stoodley Pike is not difficult either but it does seem to go on for a long while in the dark.

Stoodley Pike – a bit of, in the dark

From Stoodley Pike it was mostly downhill to the canal and then most uphill the other side of the valley. There is a short section where the Pennine Way goes between two dry stone walls. This was actually easier in winter as in Summer it was full of rocks and vegetation. In Winter the rocks were still there but the weeds had died off so at least I could see them.

Eventually I reached the road and the diversion to CP1 at Hebden Hey. I carefully negotiated the notoriously slippery steps down to the checkpoint and was greeted by a volunteer and reunited with my drop bag.

Checkpoint One is inevitably quite busy as everyone is still relatively close together so early in the race. I got some food, had some rest, put things on charge and went for a short rest. First leg done and I’m in quite good order, feet are fine and I’ve learned a couple of valuable lessons – don’t jump in puddles and don’t drop stuff. 46 miles down, still a long way to go but so far so good – will it continue? The next leg is the longest and I’m ever so slightly worried about freezing to death on Pen-y-Ghent…

Recce Six – A Fairy Tale of North Yorkshire

The 2024 Winter spine Race is getting ever closer. Unfortunately I was developing an inverse relationship between how close the race was and how prepared I felt. The main issue for me was ‘am I really prepared for the cold?’ I kept playing out a nightmare scenario in my head where my hands got cold, I couldn’t work the zips on my jacket or warm layers and so would become hypothermic and DNF. As a result I’ve spent a LOT of the last few weeks thinking about gloves and warm layers. I took advice from the kit meister himself, Lindley Chambers, on gloves and think I have a strategy – well, two pairs of warm gloves that meet kit requirements and that should keep my fingers warm anyway. I also took advice from mega ultra-runner and all round good bloke Natan Montague. He pointed out that if my core got cold it was more or less game over for trying to keep my hands warm as the first thing my body does in those circumstances is divert blood flow away from the extremities.

All of this lead me to the conclusion that, whilst I could fit my mandatory kit in my 20 litre Fastpack, that was about all I could fit and so the additional layers I’d purchased would do an excellent job of keeping my drop bag warm and be things for me to wish I had with me as I slowly turned blue on Cross Fell. As a result I have upgraded to the 30l Fastpack, which has given me much more ‘rummage room’ and means I can fit in extra gear if I need to.

Of course all this is extremely theoretical as none of this kit had been tried in a real Pennine environment. I needed to do another recce. I also needed to find a way to persuade Sharon it would be a good idea for her to come along as well, so I picked a section that is also part of the Spine Challenger South as we are doing that together in the Summer. Gargrave to Horton in Ribblesdale looked good both from a running and logistics perspective. We could stay in Horton in Ribblesdale, take the first train to Gargrave and ‘run’ the 22 miles back. Sharon has wanted to see Malham Cove ever since it appeared in the Harry Potter film so that was another selling point – and we would go over Fountains Fell and Pen-y-Ghent, which may or may not have been a selling point.

Anyway my plan was approved and I booked us two nights in the Crown Hotel. I was slightly worried by some of the comments on Google and yes, there are a lot of notices telling you what you can and can’t do but we found the landlord and landlady very friendly and the food was great. To be fair having chatted to the landlord and heard about some of the things that people have done (sneaked into the bedrooms and had a shower???) I might have put up a few notices if I ran the place.

Anyway the die was cast, we travelled North and on Saturday caught the 7:19 to Gargrave, which was impeccably on time (also the station was one of the few places I got any sort of phone signal so I kept my Duolingo streak going).

I’d had a message from the wonderful Rachel of Checkpoint Four asking if she could join us for some of our run, to which I of course answered yes. Firstly Rachel is lovely and its always good to see her and secondly I might want seconds of Lasagne in January. We met up by the phone box and bus shelter where I ate my picnic bought from the legendary Co-Op on the Summer Spine 2022.

We did remember to take a selfie eventually

The ground was very frosty and slightly snowy. I was quite happy with this as I’m hoping for frozen bogs in January, which will simply try and break my ankles, as opposed to wet mushy ones, which will try and drown me.

We saw a lot of sunrises on our recent holiday but sunrise on the Pennines in the yorkshire Dales is right up there with any of them.

Almost worth the early start!

Not only did we get sunrises but we got wildlife too!

The heron actually stood still long enough for me to take a picture

As this is supposed to be a blog about my Spine running and this recce was all about testing kit, this might be a good time to mention what kit it was that I was testing. I’ve already mentioned I’d increased my pack size to 30l but that wasn’t all that was new. I’d really liked the Inov8 winter running tights when I used them last year for the Cheviot Goat and this year for the Fellsman. Damian Hall reckoned they were pretty good when he won the Spine last year. So why have Inov8 apparently discontinued them? I had bought he OMM winter running tight instead. There is nothing wrong with my Inov8 ones but my plan at the moment is to have two changes of kit, one for CP2 and one for CP4 so I need two extra pairs of decent winter tights. I’d worn Hemy long waterproof socks for a couple of short runs to try them out but this would be their first test on a long run. I also had my Yaktrax with me, which I’d had for a while but never used. I also had some liner gloves I bought years ago in order to make an order up to the free postage limit and a new pair of Montane Prism gloves. On my top half I had similar kit to that which I wore when I climbed Mount Kinabalu on holiday, a Gore vest, long sleeve top, a thermal gilet and my Mountain Equipment Firefly jacket. I had a Dexshell woolly hat on my head, a Virtual Spine Spine finishers buff around my neck and Inov8 Roclite G320s on my feet. My pack contained more or less the entire Spine kit list, although the First Aid kits require a bit of sorting out. Oh and I had an old Montaine waist pack as a front pouch. This turned out to be a great if accidental choice, as it has two mesh pockets which were big enough to hold the Montane gloves as I spent much of the day only wearing the liners.

We set off from Gargrave on West Street onto Mark House Lane and Rachel spotted the not completely obvious stile where we left the road and started across the fields. We didn’t quite get the first field right, it wasn’t a big detour but we did go up a hill more than was strictly necessary. Another new item of kit for me was my watch, I’d bought the Garmin Enduro 2 because of its stunningly long battery life. You have to take a handheld GPS device as part of the compulsory kit but I’d found in the past it was hard to use a handheld device and poles so I was planning on using my watch for the majority of the navigation, hencing buying a watch with a very long battery life. However at this point in time however I really wasn’t getting on with the watch for navigation and had to use the handheld GPS. I wasn’t using my poles so it wasn’t a problem but it was still disappointing to have spent so much on a watch that wasn’t doing what i wanted it to do. I decided I should see if I could improve things. I’d put some slightly better maps on it so it wasn’t the maps that was the problem, it was the scale. The default zoom level was far too wide to navigate through any sort of complicated areas of paths, or to find the path if I strayed off it. I zoomed in a lot more and suddenly I had a viable navigation device! This was handy as I later noticed I’ve used the handheld so much the case has worn through on one of the buttons so if it had got wet I might have been in trouble! I also had to change the batteries in it and found the first modification I could make to make life much easier next time. The back of the case is opened by lifting and turning a small metal ring. This is impossible with gloves on, even liner gloves. If I tie a piece of cord through the ring it will be much easier. If I tie a long piece of cord through it and attach the other end to my pack I won’t lose the back if I have to take it off, or the GPS when I’m using it normally.

A beautiful day!

After almost falling over on some ice I decided it might be good to see if I could fit my Yaktrax and see how they were to run in. The answer was that they were OK. I deliberately kept on softer or icier sections of the path as I’d read that the rubber could be damaged by sharp rocks.

We arrived a Malham where Rachel left us. She was going for coffee and would then run back to Gargrave where she had parked. It was a shame she had to leave but we had really enjoyed running with her and it had certainly made the first third of the run pass quickly. I took off my Yaktrax and we headed up the road through Malham towards Malham Cove, an essential destination for Harry Potter fans.

Malham Cove – not the Harry Potter bit

We passed several groups of hikers as we jogged into the Cove. Many of them had poles but none appeared to have brooms. Some may have had Gryffindor scarves but if they did they were well hidden. We climbed the steps up to the limestone pavement and Sharon got her first view of said natural wonder.

Malham Cove – the Harry Potter bit
This might be the bit they filmed on – or it might not be, hard to tell without watch the movie again

When I’d crossed the pavement in the summer it was tricky because of the large angle snapping gaps. In winter it still has those but it was also quite icy. The actual official route of the Pennine Way goes right through the middle of the limestone. Many people (Damian Hall included) recommend going slightly North to avoid the most challenging bits. I’ve never seen any statement from the Spine team as to whether that is acceptable or not but it doesn’t particularly shorten the route and the alternatives are a potentially treacherous icy crossing of the limestone or putting my Yaktrax on and probably damaging the rock, neither of which sound ideal so I think I will try and avoid the actual pavement as much as possible in January.

After safely crossing the pavement we started to head towards Malham Tarn, which would be the site of CP1.5 in the actual Spine races.

Looking back – The Pennine Way follows the wall at the bottom of the gully
Looking ahead – the Pennine Way is in there somewhere
CP1.5 is at the building on the opposite side of the Tarn
View across the Tarn

It would appear that the Spine Race organisation doesn’t set up checkpoints every weekend on the off-chance a random Spine runner will come past but I was prepared!

Outdoor cooking -well, water heating at least

A stove is part of the compulsory kit and as I need to practice using mine I’d already agreed with Sharon that if she brought along a mug and a Cuppa Soup, I’d provide some hot water. The making of two mugs of soup passed without incident, which was surprising as it involved flames and hot things. One thing I did learn is that checking if the stove is still hot with gloves on is not a great idea, the gloves do start to look a bit second-hand (no pun intended) before you discover that the stove supports are still really quite hot.

I don’t think Sharon is quite as cold as she looks – she has hot soup

After leaving Malham Tarn things got a bit more vertically challenging. Nothing to do with us both being on the short side and everything to do with Fountains Fell and Pen-y-Ghent. My new watch tells me all sorts of interesting things – like just how much the next climb will hurt. Some people don’t like to know that sort of thing but I found it quite good to see my progress up Fountains Fell and get some sort of reassurance that, despite appearances to the opposite, it didn’t go on forever (unlike this blog).

A bit bleak on Fountains Fell
Despite the soup we were only shadows of our former selves
Sounds like a good idea
I think this was a top if not the top – someone had built a big pile of stones anyway
Pen-y-ghent from Fountains Fell

After Fountains Fell it was down to the road to the start of our last climb – up Pen-y-Ghent. This side of the fell was more shaded and so icier – I probably should have put my Yaktrax on – or the microspikes I carried around all day and forgot about.

Definitely on the cold side!
Pen-y-Ghent from the icy side of Fountains Fell

Despite the snow and ice we got down without incident and were left with the day’s last climb, up one of the Yorkshire Three Peaks.

The approach to Pen-y-Ghent is quite long. After coming off Fountains Fell you have to run quite a long way along a road beside the mountain before turning off to almost double back on yourself to climb the mountain. I stopped to try putting my Yaktrax on and learnt I could either sit down and do it or catapult them across a field whilst hopping around on one leg when I didn’t quite get the back part over my heel.

The actual climb isn’t too bad. It’s a bit scrambly and sketchy in a couple of places but nothing very difficult – if you are going up you are probably going the right way. Most of it is stepped and once you get over the last steep bit it’s Pennine Way flagstones all the way to the trig point.

Obligatory mountain top selfie
At least we had some nice views
Fortunately the gathering clouds chose to dump snow overnight everywhere apart from where we were from what we heard

The path down from Pen-y-Ghent is much easier than the route up. Unfortunately Sharon developed a pain in her foot on the way down which limited our pace but we were still going to be back well before dark which was as much of a plan as we had. Overall we’d done really well I felt – it must have been good, according to Strava I set 23 personal records over the course of the run! I did fall over on the last section before hitting the road as it was very icy, I’d decided to take my Yaktrax off sometime earlier and couldn’t be bother to put them on. I probably should realise that a broken bone is just as broken with half a mile to go as with ten but I got away with it this time.

Did you really think I’d manage an entire blog entry without a picture of a phone box?

We did get to pass Horton in Ribblesdale’s first ever village Christmas tree! It was great that the had one but it was hard not to be a little underwhelmed if I’m honest.

The Christmas tree

We got back to the pub at almost exactly 3pm and celebrated with apre-run pints before getting changed for more celebratory alcohol and food. Whilst we were in the pub another couple came in wearing shorts and carrying Ultimate Direction packs. My Spiner radar went into full alert and yes, Danielle (apologies if I’ve spelt that incorrectly if you ever read this) has won a place for being part of a Safety team and had done the same route as us, just later, quicker, and in shorts. They were eating in the pub before taking the train back to Gargrave where they had left their car.

So was it worthwhile? Yes. What did I learn? Well, despite it being minus six at the start I was never really cold. I had two more tops with me which I didn’t use and I rarely put the Prism gloves on, the liners were enough most of the day. Obviously if it had been wet and windy I would have almost certainly needed more gear but I was happy that I was warm enough and still had more kit to use.

The OMM tights were fine. Warm enough and nothing chafed so should be OK for the race.

I will try and find some warmer liner socks. The sock combination I had was OK but could be better. The Hemy socks did the waterproof thing but I need warmer liners. My feet weren’t catastrophically cold but it would have been nice if they could have been warmer.

Yaktrax were OK but I have to sit down to get them on. They dangle perfectly happily of my packs waist belt between uses but I might add a small strap to stop them falling off if I take the pack off. If you forget you brought microspikes and leave them in your pack all day you have no idea if they are any good or not – I’ll have to find another occasion to test those out.

Soup is great and well worth the effort.

The most important thing I learned is that I might just be able to do the Winter Spine without freezing to death, which will be a bonus!

There might be one more panicked rambling blog about nothing in particular before the event but from here until sometime after the 14th of January the only way really is Pennine!

The Lakeland 100 – Yee-Haw!

I’ve done the Lakeland 100 – twice. I’ve finished it – twice. I’ve said ‘never again’ – twice. So it probably surprised no-one when I signed up for my third (and definitely final) time for 2023. After two previous trips to the Lake District, Sharon took the ‘if you can’t beat them, join them’ approach and signed up for the Lakeland 50. As usual there was a small Essex contingent – most notably Jackie Stretton, a seven time LL100 finisher who wasn’t going to be stopped by the fact she had broken her foot a few weeks before and it had only just healed…

Sharon doesn’t do camping. I only pretend I’ll do camping, safe in the knowledge I’m never going to have to because Sharon doesn’t. As a result we were booked into a B&B that had been ‘Holly Howe’ in the 1974 ‘Swallows and Amazons’ film. It was less than a mile from the race HQ – if you could walk on water. it was about two by road so still not too far away.

The Lakeland races have a theme each year. I’ll be honest, I’d never heard of ‘Yellowstone’ and the idea of two thousand people in cowboy hats shouting ‘yee-haw’ filled me with a kind of existential dread – or I’m just grumpy and don’t join in very well. Anyway the theme was ‘Cowboy’ and from the Facebook group it looked like everyone was very excited about it.

When we went to Race HQ to check in I was surprised to see that – apart from the volunteers, who appeared to have been given compulsory hats – only around 20% of people were in cowboy gear and most were keeping the ‘yee-haws’ under control.

Check-in consisted of kit-check, number collection and tracker fitting. As I’m being a bit grumpy it’s here I have to voice a small amount of criticism of the event. Not the check-in, that all went very smoothly, but the kit list. The Spine Races are the gold standard for a kit list and Lindley Chambers is always available to answer any queries. The Lakeland races have (at least) two different locations on the website for the kit list, and they are slightly different. To make things worse, all the emails appear to point to the less detailed list. As a result there was some confusion as to whether emergency money was a compulsory item, did the emergency food have to be 400 calories or was that advisory? I’ve been through enough kit checks that I can generally work it all out but, again from the Facebook posts, it seemed to cause some anxiety among some of the runners. I also got the impression it may have lead to a few inconsistencies among the kit checkers. The lady that checked my kit was brilliant, she recognised my waterproofs and knew they met the standard, she spotted items of kit as I was finding others and she didn’t ask for emergency money or check my calories – it would just be nice next year if there was one single fully explained kit list.

Anyway I stopped being grumpy for long enough to smile for my tracker photo.

Quite jolly for me!

After kit check, Sharon and I went back to our B&B for lunch. The evening start for the Lakeland 100 is unusual but I think I quite like it. It means that even the fastest runners have to go through one full night and, whilst Black Sail Pass in the dark is hugely challenging, the ‘lines of light’ are stunning to see. However the later start time creates certain ‘admin’ challenges like eating – enough but not too much – and sleeping – should I and if so for how long? Whilst returning to the B&B rather than having a tent in the event village and soaking up the atmosphere may also seem like grumpiness on my part, it had some major advantages. The B&B did lunch so we didn’t have the challenge of finding somewhere to eat in Coniston. The event village does have food stalls but some of my friends waited over an hour for pizza in the town. I had Shepherd’s Pie with baby carrots and broccoli, not my normal pre-race food but it seemed to work. I could also rest comfortably on a bed in relative peace through the afternoon and have a shower just before returning for the briefing.

There were a lot of yee-haws at the briefing, although fewer cowboy hats than I expected. From the show of hands, it looked like somewhere between a third and a half of the runners were first timers so I will excuse Marc for reusing most of the jokes from the 2022 and 2023 briefings. Uncle Terry did the serious bit, which basically told us that the route was exactly as it had been last year, close gates and don’t wake people up if you are passing their house at 3am – all good and sensible stuff. I was particularly pleased that there were no route changes as I had spent some time creating my own custom route files, including using last years track from my watch to pinpoint the checkpoints and make my watch give me the distance to each of them as I ran.

I engaged in a bit of creative queue jumping to visit the toilet (go to the ones in the corner where people haven’t quite organised themselves into a queue) and went to the start line. I was with my fellow Little Baddow Ridge Runner, Alan Anderson, at this point. Alan was a bit nervous as, whilst he has a huge amount of 100 mile experience (9 of them), he had never taken on anything quite as challenging as Lakeland 100 before. I was fairly sure he’d finish as he has the tenacity to keep going. I was hoping to finish ahead of him simply based on our Fellsman times – which was probably the best comparison for this event – but nothing can be taken for granted.

We had the traditional rendition of ‘Nessun Dorma’ and then we were off! The start of the LL100 is always quite exciting as you run past hundreds of cheering supporters as you leave Coniston.

Just to prove i’m not exaggerating when I say 100s!

Sharon was cheering as loudly as anyone and I gave her a wave as I passed by.

Slightly odd facial expression but nearer a smile than my fellow runners appear to be managing

As the overarching theme of my blog is ‘The Spine Race’, it would be a good time to mention a couple of Spine people I met on the way to the first checkpoint. I saw the runner ahead of me was called ‘Mick’. As I ran past him I heard his voice and realised it wasn’t just ‘Mick’ but Mick Browne, a Spine Legend. I had briefly run with Mick on the 2022 Summer Spine to the Alston Checkpoint and more recently he had looked after Sharon and myself at the end of the Spine Sprint. Sadly he didn’t complete LL100 but it was great to have a quick chat with him on the race.

A little further on another runner asked if I had been at the Summer Spine Sprint. This was Vidur, a young guy who had been around a similar pace to us and who I had tried to help out by describing the later stages of the Spine Sprint as it was his first time on the course. We were in Nicky’s Food Bar together, after which he put his new found knowledge to good use and finished about 30 minutes ahead of us. He would finish LL100 about an hour and forty minutes behind me so I guess we are one all now! He recognised me from my running top – the colours of Little Baddow are quite distinctive!

The weather may not have been the best but the views still didn’t disappoint

The first leg is actually quite a nice introduction. It has a decent amount of climb but nothing too technical and the path is fairly good.

The first phone box at Seathwaite – a KX100 with a phone and email and text capability apparently!

You would think that if part of the route terrified me I’d know exactly where it was but no, I think it’s between Seathwaite and Boot – I’m fairly sure it was still daylight – but I’m not sure exactly where. Basically it’s a steep rocky descent with a wire fence on the right hand side of the path. This year it was made more exciting with the addition of wetness. However I must be getting better as this year I was prepared to let go of the fence and pick the best path down, rather than attach myself to the fence with a death-grip and slip, slide and bounce to the bottom. Anyway I made it to Boot unscathed.

Two from two for phone boxes at checkpoints – this one was nestled in the corner at Boot

Last year I learned from my mistakes of the previous year and taped my blisters up at Boot. This year I had consciously tried to descend less on my heels to help avoid blisters. I’d also smothered my feet in ‘Trenchfoot Cream’ and so far all seemed to be going well. The next section would be a bit wet and boggy and I was pleased to be starting it with my feet in good shape.

Boot to Wasdale Head was a fairly unremarkable leg. It was boggy and it got dark, I think that was about it.

Wasdale Head to Buttermere was always going to be one of the more ‘exciting’ legs. It involves going up Black Sail Pass – a tricky, rock ascent, down Black Sail Pass – an even trickier rockier descent, and over Scarth Gap Pass – tricky, rocky, but not as bad as Black Sail. Despite the technical and demanding nature of Black Sail, there is always one thing that is well worth looking at, the seemingly endless line of light that marks the train of runners climbing up the pass.

Head torches on Black Sail Pass (Photo Credit Jackie Stretton)

The Black Sail Pass photo was taken by Jackie, who I first saw on the race as we were approaching Buttermere. I think we were both surprised that she came up from behind me, especially as she had started in front of me and I hadn’t been aware of passing her, but she had had to hop into a bush to answer a call of nature so so I guess I passed her then.

We arrived at Buttermere together. I was very happy with this as, since Jackie had seven previous finishes under her belt, I didn’t have to worry too much about navigation – apart from when we left the checkpoint and after a few metres she said ‘there’s the path, up there’ and we had a short scramble up a bank to get onto the real path. Apart from that everything went very well and we arrived at Braithwaite in the dark. I wasn’t keeping to much track of time but I was aware that I had never left Braithwaite in complete darkness before so I was obviously ahead of previous attempts.

I left Jackie at Braithwaite. This wasn’t because we had fallen out or anything, she is just a much faster runner than me but also likes to spend a little more time at the checkpoints. If I had waited for her she would have had to either leave me behind or run slower than she was capable of. I was fairly confident I would see her again on the next section.

The next section follows a road for a while before becoming quite a pleasant run – apart from it started raining, a lot. Jackie caught me up, then she stopped to put on her jacket, then, eventually, I had to admit it was raining and put mine on. This wasn’t as easy as it should have been as by this time I was very wet and the jacket decided to stick to my arms and be generally annoying.

Once again I didn’t even see the alleged shortcut at Lonscale Fell and hence had no issue at all with getting to the virtual checkpoint, designed to prevent those more observant than I from gaining an advantage. From there it was straightforward to the Blencathra Field Centre, checkpoint 6.

I left Blencathra with Jackie and the combination of early morning sun and showers rewarded us with rainbows, well a rainbow, although given a rainbow is an optical illusion and doesn’t actually exist we can have as many as we like so I’m claiming rainbows, lots of them.

Early morning sun and a rainbow
Me being told to get out of the way of the rainbow )Photo Credit Jackie Stretton)

Sadly life isn’t all fun and rainbows and we were soon on the the Old Coach Road. To be honest this wasn’t as bad as I imagined and Jackie soon shot off ahead of me. At the end of the Old Coach Road is the Dockray checkpoint. A mile after the dockray checkpoint is Dockray. To make up for the Old Coach Road, the section around Gowbarrow Park provides stunning views across Ullswater and is around the half way point of the race.

Ullswater

Sadly all good things come to an end and the final push into Dalemain seems to be a never ending road run. The marshals at the entrance to the Dalemain Estate are very nice and supportive but I know its more than a mile to go because my watch is telling me so. Jackie is by now some way ahead but I was on track to get to Dalemain before the start of the Lakeland 50 for the first time ever!

Terry and Claire from the club were in the Lake District supporting us while Terry was training for an event in a few weeks time. I arrived into Dalemain just in time to miss Sharon going into her start area. This didn’t deter Claire, who somehow found her for me.

‘Where is he?’

The Lakeland 50 starts with a four mile loop around the Dalemain Estate. I reckoned it would take Sharon about an hour given the number of people in front of her (even more now she was at the back due to coming out to see me) so I told her if she wanted we could meet as she passed the marquee that was the LL100 checkpoint. I should have time to eat, sort my feet and change batteries while she did her loop.

Found him!

Sharon and I had deliberately not made any plans to run together as I had no idea what time I would get to Dalemain. Without Jackie’s ‘encouragement’ I doubt I would have made it in time to see her before the start but as it happened things couldn’t have worked out better. However before then I had some admin to do.

The first thing was to get my socks off. Too my surprise my feet were pretty much intact – Trenchfoot Cream seems to be good stuff! I did have a different pair of shoes to change into – Inov8 G280, a more cushioned shoe – but I felt that as I’d got no blisters so far it would be foolish to change an apparently winning combination so I let my feet air, gave them a liberal coating of Trenchfoot Cream and clean socks, and put the Roclites back on. A lovely marshal got me some pasta and a coffee and I changed my torch battery and recharged my watch.

Look at those feet! (Photo Credit Jackie Stretton)

Again with timing that couldn’t have been planned Sharon arrived at the end of the marquee shortly after I went out to wait for her, and just as Jackie came out of the toilet. The three of us set of together and it became immediately clear that Sharon was capable of going much faster than I was. However she slowed down a little and we headed off towards Pooley Bridge.

Down by the river we had a wonderful surprise – Kate and family had set up a LBRR cheering point to support all the Ridge Runners in the LL100 and LL50!

LBRR Cheering Point!

After hugs from Kate we carried on to Howtown. Howtown can be a bit chaotic as it’s the first checkpoint on the LL50 and hence receives a lot of visitors in a very short space of time. however this year it was OK and I picked up some water and some sweets without any problems.

It is unlikely that the leg from Howtown to Mardale Head is anyone’s favourite. It has the biggest climb and is the second longest. It starts of with a lung busting climb up Fusedale, bumbles through some slippery bits over Bampton Common, before dropping down to a seemingly endless march through bracken alongside Haweswater until finally reaching the checkpoint at Mardale Head.

Bizarrely I quite like the climb up Fusedale. It isn’t technical or too steep and so it’s just a case of getting one’s head down and marching up.

This would be a good point to mention the relationship between those doing LL100 and those on LL50. Generally the LL50 people have a huge amount of respect for the LL100 runners as they are aware we have been running for around at least 18 hours before they see us. I’ve always had a great deal of support from LL50 runners and much appreciate it. Because of this when I was head down and powering up Fusedale, shouts of ‘100 runner coming through!’ went up and I was given room to continue my relentless march up the slope. Spare a thought for Sharon, trying desperately to keep up but as she was ‘only’ a 50 runner she had to find her own way round everyone – whilst trying to explain she was with me and really needed to keep up.

Once we had gone up Fusedale and over Bampton Common, we were greeted by the Brewster Support Crew again, Claire, Terry, Emily and Lucy, who had moved on from Dalemain to support us in the rain at Haweswater. This was particularly appreciated since, as I’ve already mentioned, I doubt this is anyone’s favourite leg of the race and it was good to have a bit of support at a very unexpected location. It all got a bit congested along the side of Haweswater and we ended up doing the Lakeland Conga with several dozen other runners. It lasted for what seemed like forever but there was no point trying to overtake, we would just have become very unpopular and not got anywhere anyway as the line was too long to ever get to the front of. Eventually it ended and we arrived at the Mardale Head checkpoint. I had three mugs of tomato soup, some coke, a few sandwiches and filled my bottles again.

Gatesgarth Pass is long but at least it’s fairly wide and it wasn’t too long before we were looking for the almost invisible step stile to the final path into Kentmere. The only slight catch is that when you can see the checkpoint you still have to go round the church to get to it, you can’t cut through the graveyard.

I’d never been at Kentmere in the daylight before, or soon enough to get a smoothie. This year I managed both, and couple of bowls of pasta, life was good!

The Garburn Pass to Troutbeck was fine. Last year I got quite annoyed about the fact that you have to climb up through Troutbeck just to go down again but at this point last year I was getting annoyed by almost everything. This year I had good company and was making good time and I still didn’t have any blisters. We decided against getting lost in Skelghyll Wood and my head torch didn’t fail on me this time so we arrived in Ambleside in time to be cheered on by people on their way home from their Saturday nights out. Ambleside checkpoint also had quiche. I’ve noticed my preferences for food get more savoury as an event goes on and a few slices of quiche were exactly what I wanted – and a couple of sandwiches.

Ambleside to Chapel Stile is a fairly short, relatively flat leg. I don’t remember too much about it so I guess it went OK. At Chapel Stile I had a few sandwiches but I didn’t want to get too comfortable. Looking at my previous years’ timings, I think I’d spent about 30 minutes in there each year. It’s a tempting place to stop as by then it is dark and the marquee is very inviting but I felt I didn’t want to spend too much time there given there was only 10 miles left to go.

Not long after Chapel Stile there are a couple of enormous ‘ladder’ stiles. By now my quads were completely wrecked and I found it incredibly hard to lower myself down the other side of the stiles. Apart from that things were OK until we reached Blea Moss, where there was another short conga whilst we all followed the narrow path across. Every year a very helpful gentleman marks the driest path through the last part of the moss to the road with flags and every year I get wet feet because I think I can see a better path. There is another virtual checkpoint to prevent people cutting the corner, although this would involve going right through the boggy bit so I’m not sure why anyone would want to.

A little further on, the path to Tilberthwaite starts to climb. Some light relief was supplied by someone asking if this was the last climb. I was very aware there was one more decent climb and it was starting to concern me, not the climb but the descent. I knew how much I’d struggled to get down the stiles, I knew there was some slightly technical descent to Coniston, what if I couldn’t manage it? The good news was that I was with Sharon and Jackie and I was sure – well, fairly sure anyway – that they wouldn’t abandon me up there.

Soon we were at Tilberthwaite and it was time to see if I would complete Lakeland 100 2023 or if my race would end embarrassingly stuck on a hill two miles from the end. I stopped and put my extra layer on as I didn’t want to be cold up there and I didn’t want to have to change once I was at the top. Now it was time to follow the green lights up Jacob’s Ladder and start the final leg.

The last technical challenge in an upward direction is a bit of a scramble up the path at some point – I’m not sure exactly where it is but after that its a bit of a stroll along the top. I announced I was feeling a bit Zombie-like so Jackie entertained us with an impromptu rendition of ‘Zombie’ by the Cranberries. All that was left was the technical descent I was so very worried about. Except it wasn’t at all technical really and we were most of the way down without any drama from me, ready to triumphantly jog the last mile or so into Coniston!

The best team!

We managed on last Essex connection. Darren Coates, another of our Essex running friends, was volunteering at Lakeland, . As it happened he was at the finish to welcome us, take some photos for us and announce our finish, something else we couldn’t possibly have arranged.

Looking quite satisfied with myself.

So my third Lakeland 100 and by far the best – despite my fears about cowboy hats. Our little group of three supported each other, pulled us through our individual lows and we all achieved our goals. Jackie had been in a boot with a broken foot a few weeks before and was just very happy to have made her eighth finish. for Sharon it was he longest and hardest run so far so she was happy to finish unscathed. For me, well I got to run with a couple of my favourite people, I finished with no blisters and a PB by over three and a half hours – I was happy!

It would be nice to have a few weeks off before another race but next week I’m running the SVP100. Last year I DNFed so this year it’s just going to be a case of not trying anything heroic but just finishing!

Saltmarsh 75 – The Return

I imagine that everyone that has read this blog will already know, in 2013 the Saltmarsh 75 was my first ever ultra. I’ve also done every Saltmarsh Ultra since then. The first six events were two day races and 2019 was a single day 50 mile run. It was stopped by Covid in 2020 and hadn’t been on since.

The event was devised and originally run by Maldon District Council. However after the enforced Covid break the rights to the event were passed over to Hare And Tortoise Running, a well-known and respected organiser of various running events in Essex.

Obviously I was very happy to see that ‘my’ event was back but slightly saddened as I had already booked a big foreign holiday which encompassed the first weekend in October, the traditional Saltmarsh weekend. Imagine my surprise and delight when it was announced that Saltmarsh 2023 would be over the first weekend of July! There was also another change, in addition to the traditional ’75 miles over two days’ format there was the option to run the full 75 miles (actually 76.6 miles, it was always at least 76 miles) in one go. This obviously left one question to answer – which event to enter? On the one hand, Saltmarsh 75 was 75 miles over two days, it had always been 75 miles over two days – apart from 2019 when it was 50 miles in one day, and every other year when it had been 76 miles – so I should enter the two day event right? On the other hand I’d always wondered what it would be like to carry on from Steeple to Salcott-cum-Virley…

Of course I could always do both, well, sort of, not quite as the Continuous and Day One started at the same time but I could do the Continuous and the go back to Steeple and run Day Two right? This of course assumed I could complete the Continuous with sufficient time to get back to Steeple before the start of Day Two at 8am on Sunday. I reckoned I could finish the Continuous in under 16 hours, get picked up at Salcott-cum-Virley, get taken to Steeple for the start of Day Two, run/walk back to Salcott and get picked up again. All in all a pointless selfish attention seeking self indulgence which would put Sharon to huge inconvenience and add absolutely nothing to the Saltmarsh event.

So I thought again. Revised plan – same as before but bivvy at Salcott Village Hall, jump on a shuttle to Steeple in the morning and tail run Day Two. To my complete surprise Pete Jones, co-director of Hare and Tortoise, thought this would be a great idea, especially when fellow Saltmarsh Legend, Jackie Stretton, volunteered to be by fellow tail runner. The only thing wrong with the revised plan was that by the time I realised how utterly ridiculous it was, I was kind of committed and would be letting people down if I backed out but hey, that’s what hubris gets you.

Anyway, it’s now the 1st of July 2023, about 7:20am. I’m in South Woodham Ferrers, Jackie has a broken foot, Ian Brazier (‘tent man’ from Saltmarsh 2013) is going to join me on Sunday to tail run with me from Maldon but first there is the small matter of running 76.6 miles to Salcott-cum-Virley.

Little Baddow Ridge Runners were well represented in both the continuous and the Two Day Race. Russ, Ian C. Andy and myself were running the Continuous, Jona, Barbara and Fiona were running the Two Day, Huw was running Day One and Terry and Bubs were the Day One Sweepers. There was a lot of Orange and Purple about. I think someone took a photo but I can’t find it.

I picked up my number (Number One, not because I was important or the human sacrifice (Google Barkley Marathons) but just because I entered first), was kit checked, handed in my drop bags, talked to some people, posed for some photos and finally ambled onto the start line.

Bird’s eye view of registration (photo credit Jynxy Harwood)
Just like the start in 2013!

We had a short briefing, during which Pete mainly tried to convince us that not all of the route was waist deep grass, and then we were off. Just to prove that being an attention seeking idiot is my main character trait, I sprinted through the flags. My reason for doing this was that, as Day Two Sweeper, I would be the last classified finisher of Saltmarsh 2023 so I thought I’d try and be first to start as well. Told you I was an attention seeker.

My lead didn’t last for long but it wasn’t meant to. I’d seen the list of entrants and I was absolutely certain that – barring accidents- Dan Kyne and Russ Welch would finish in front of me. After that there were a few I thought I might be racing against and, as always, several I had no idea about. I was fairly confident I would make top ten and that top five wasn’t out of the question. In less than half a mile and a brief lapse of memory regarding whether to go through a gate or not (I did, mainly because everyone else did) I was in third place, not really getting much further from the chasing pack but watching Dan and Russ get steadily further ahead.

Dan and Russ are well out of sight

Saltmarsh 2023 really was a throwback to Saltmarsh 2013. Apart from the start being on the sea wall like 2013, we also had to cross the B1012 twice. From 2014 onwards access across land just after the rail crossing had been negotiated but for various reasons this wasn’t possible in 2023. However the road crossings were well marshalled and I lost minimal time negotiating them. The fact I had only done that part of the route once 10 years ago is also my excuse for having to look carefully at my watch to make sure I was going the right way.

Checkpoint 1 soon arrived. As the event was cupless I had my collapsible cup and, in a rare fit of organisation, a small plastic bag to load up with snacks for the next part of the race. After almost 10 years of running ultras I still don’t have a race nutrition strategy but currently I’m try a ‘Coke and Jaffa Cakes’ diet, which seems to be working OK.

Between CP1 and CP2 I could hear a couple of runners coming up behind me. Once they were right behind me I stepped to one side for them to pass, the path is narrow and realistically I was unlikely to be able to keep my elbows out for the next 65 miles so I felt I should let them through. I had a quick chat as we passed each other and found that they were on the Two Day event anyway so I wasn’t really racing them. It turned out they’d heard that someone was doing the Continuous and then tail running Day Two but had assumed it was a Saltmarsh Myth. They were a bit surprised when I was able to assure them that no, it was absolutely true…

Checkpoint 2 was at Burnham Yacht Harbour. The RNLI was having an open day, which looked like a lot of fun but sadly I couldn’t really stop and join in. I was rewarded for my commitment to the race by passing the only phone box I saw all day in Burnham.

As far as I know, the only phone box on the Saltmarsh course

Due to the long grass on sections, we had been told it was acceptable to use the lower path at the bottom of the sea wall if it existed and was easier to negotiate. I dropped onto it somewhere outside Burnham and got a whole new perspective on that section of the sea wall. I was aware there were various coastal defences along that stretch but it was only by being beside it rather than on top I saw how many. I counted six pill boxes built into the sea wall, as well as the minefield control tower beside it, with which I was very familiar.

One of the many pill boxes outside Burnham

By the time I arrived at the infamous ‘Dengie’ section I was back on top of the wall, partly because it was now a clear concrete section but mainly to avoid missing Checkpoint 3. The leg across the Dengie is always a bit bleak but there was a lot of runnable sections so I pushed on towards CP4. I was slightly worried about finding CP4 as in previous editions it had been inside the Othona Community grounds and navigation had been required. Just before CP4 is St. Peter’s Chapel, at which there was some sort of celebration. I don’t know if they saw me coming but the prayer I heard as I passed urged me to put down my burden and rest.

Fortunately CP4 was very visible and required no navigation. The next major landmark was Bradwell Power Station. The thing about Bradwell Power Station is that you don’t just pass it and be done with it. Due to its position on the estuary and the tortuous nature of the the coastline I knew that later in the day it would appear in various locations, and that, against all rules of geography, I would be running towards it again for a while. However for now it was behaving and disappearing behind me as I headed to CP5. CP5 was at Bradwell Marina and I would just like to point out I didn’t get lost on the way out of the marina, climbing through some brambles was a tactical decision taken to optimise my route – well, to avoid going back and finding the correct path anyway.

Checkpoint 6 was at Steeple, the end of Day Two and where I would usually have stopped and started from again on Sunday. One of those things was going to happen anyway. Bev was at the checkpoint and informed me there was a meeting room I could have as my bedroom for Saturday night. The original plan had changed a little as Bev and Pete had decided it would be better to take me to Steeple when I finished and let me sleep there as it would be quieter and I wouldn’t have to get up as early.

The overall topic of this blog is Spine Racing so I’d better mention the tenuous connection between this race and the Spine. Actually it isn’t tenuous, Lindley Chambers is one of the least tenuous people I know and, as he wasn’t answering daft questions from me about kit for the Spine Race, his company, Challenge Running, was providing medical support for the event. I didn’t need it myself but I understand several runners were grateful to be able to have their feet attended to by Lindley and his team. Challenge Running had based themselves at Steeple and so I wouldn’t be completely alone there overnight.

However there was still a very long way to go before I would return to Steeple. After successfully navigating my way back to the sea wall there was Checkpoint 7 soon followed by several miles of very overgrown sea wall to negotiate with a lower path that wasn’t any better. The only good news was I wouldn’t have to do it again tomorrow – oh. wait… Anyway eventually it was behind me and I knew I would have several miles of very runnable paths and sea wall most of the way to Tollesbury.

Checkpoint 8 was in Maldon at the bottom of the massive climb (I think it may be as much a 15 metres of elevation) into Maldon, along the Causeway and back out onto the coast. It all gets slightly urban underfoot at Heybridge but at least the tarmac wasn’t trying to rip me up quite as much as the grass had done. After passing the seemingly never ending Mill Beach Caravan Park, I was back in the countryside and on my favourite bit of the Saltmarsh route, Goldhanger to Tollesbury.

Checkpoint 9 was the penultimate manned checkpoint. There were three more before Salcott-cum-Virley but 10 and 12 were unmanned. I had been sticking with a Coke and Jaffa Cake strategy through the race and it seemed to be working. I’d also been getting my bottles filled with squash at the checkpoints. This was particularly good as I was getting through a lot of liquid and so having something more ‘interesting’ to drink than water was making it far easier to keep on top of my hydration.

When I’ve did Saltmarsh over two days I took 6 – 6.5 hours per day. When I first signed up for the Continuous I thought I might do it in 14 hours and just avoid the dark. Given that Dan Kyne took 13:47 and Russ Welch 14:12, I now know that was hopelessly optimistic and by this point in the race I realised that the best I could hope for was to try and get a ‘same day’ finish, i.e. under 16 hours and in before midnight.

Too much cloud for a really good sunset but still a beautiful place to be at dusk

Checkpoint 10 may have been unmanned but it was nice and obvious so I topped up my Coke levels and headed towards Tollesbury Wick Marshes. The quality of the path deteriorated somewhat but I passed the time wondering if any other lightship was fitted with what looked like a 20W bulb.

Tollesbury Lightship – hopefully it had a bigger bulb when it was in use

It was at the Tollesbury Checkpoint (11) that I realised what the volunteers were giving up for this race. The checkpoint was quite cool as it was the only one indoors ,at the Tollesbury Activity Centre, and the race route passed right through it. I commented on the sleeping bags on the floor and was told the volunteers were hoping to take it in turns to sleep between runners. By now we were all spread out and so runners could be arriving at any time until the cut-off at 10am Sunday. Then after a few hours the Two Day runners would be arriving. I always appreciate it when people give up their time so I can do races but now people are giving up sleep!

I was told the next runner was about half an hour behind me. I don’t ever take anything for granted but I felt I probably had as much experience of finishing long races in the dark as anyone and so I really should be able to hang on to third place.

Night falls over the Saltmarsh

There was one more unmanned checkpoint just before the final sting in the tail, the Old Hall Marshes. A few weeks ago the H&T Blackwater Ultra shared its finish with Saltmarsh so I was fully aware of just how overgrown they were and by now it was properly dark. My same day finish was also becoming a more challenging prospect.

The waist high grass was a challenge, the cow parsley was annoying and the head high triffids slightly terrifying. The other slightly annoying point was noticing a clearly much easier path below the sea wall which I hadn’t seen earlier because it was dark. My ETA was also getting nearer and nearer to midnight. By now I was knackered, I’d got aches in muscles I didn’t know I had caused by the enforced gait changes in the long grass I think. I was stumbling, pushing, even occasionally running, just desperate to get out of there and get to Salcott-cum-Virley before midnight.

Eventually I was out of the marshes and crossing the last field to the road! By now I’d stopped looking at anything on my watch apart from time of day. I ran the last few hundred metres, turned off the road and went through the finish arch at 11:58 and some seconds, I’d made the same day finish!

I’d also rather surprised Pete Jones as the tracker was still predicting I would arrive in 11 minutes time, hence my welcome was slightly low-key initially. I didn’t really care, same day finish, that was all I cared about.

Ordinarily this where a blog entry would end – race done, a few random comments about how I felt about it and everyone can breathe a sigh of relief. Not this time I’m afraid, feel free to stop reading but there is a little more to come.

After profusely apologies for not being out to see me finish (it really didn’t matter) I was given a medal, a t-shirt and a goody bag. More importantly I was given tea and pasta. Then I was taken to Steeple where I was able to shower before mostly failing to sleep for the rest of the night. I should point out that the 2-3 hours of sleep that I got was 2-3 hours more than Pete would manage waiting for the rest of the Continuous runners to finish at various hours of the morning.

The next morning was a fairly relaxed affair as I wanted to give everyone a bit of a head start. I didn’t really have any experience of tail running but Ian had told me the idea was to keep the last person in sight but try and stay out of their sight. After a Pot Noodle and a coffee runner number 85 set off. It was a nice day so I took a couple of pictures.

Heading back to the coast
Beautiful Morning

Whenever anyone asks about navigation on the Saltmarsh they are always told ‘just keep the sea on your right’. This is true for almost all the course except the bit from Steeple to Maylandsea where you have to follow St. Peter’s Way to the coast. There is a path around the coast but it’s a lot further round… It was a message from Ian that alerted me to the fact that a small group of runners had decided – almost certainly involuntarily – to take the long way round. I realised I wasn’t going to catch them – they were going the wrong way with some conviction and determination – and so I asked Pete to give them a call. I waited and got them back on track.

There could have also been a sign saying ‘Not the Route of the Saltmarsh 75 – even if you are fully clothed’

Shortly after this Ian joined me in my sweeping duties and got to experience the delights of the grass between Maylandsea and Maldon.

I won’t go into too much detail about the day’s sweeping as this blog is already quite long. I do have to mention Sheep Moats – which was the name we gave to the ditch between the sea wall and areas of sheep grazing, and there was this fine fellow, who was noticed by several runners – but then he was hard to miss.

What a specimen!

Eventually we left the Tollesbury checkpoint and saw a sign telling us it was only 3.5 miles to Salcott-cum-Virley. Which was true unless, like us, you had to take the long way round Old Hall Marshes, in which case it was about 8. It was really nice of Bubs to come out and walk with us for a couple of miles but he really didn’t have to tell us about every path that was shorter than the one we had to take to Salcott-cum-Virley – especially not when he, quite wisely, turned off before Old Hall Marshes.

3.5 miles to go unless you are running the Saltmarsh 75…

At the last checkpoint we caught up with the last runners. Watching these two finish made the whole weekend for me. I’m sure they won’t mind me saying they had given it their all, they were still smiling (just), and they had to dig very deep to get through the final 6 miles to Salcott-cum-Virley but the did it and with well over an hour to spare. Many kind people have said nice things about what I did over the weekend but in many ways I should be good at running, it’s a huge chunk of my life – I’m far more impressed by the ones that took on this challenge not knowing if they could do it or not. Not everyone did make it but there’s no shame in that, most people didn’t even try. Take what you learned and come back next year and get that medal.

The latest chapter in my Saltmarsh collection

This is the bit where I babble on a bit out what I thought of the race and what I got out of it. In many ways Hare and Tortoise (Pete and Bev) were on to a hiding to nothing when they took on the Saltmarsh 75. It was a well loved and popular race, how could they improve on it? Well if I’m honest i’m not sure they did (although there were many more Jaffa Cakes than in previous years) but they did preserve the spirit and the feel of the race whilst infusing it with the Hare and Tortoise values of friendliness and inclusivity so even if there was little to gain, they made sure they lost nothing – and of course without them there would still be no Saltmarsh 75 so overall it was a massive win for all of us.

How do I pretend this is relevant to my Spine journey? Well strangely, very easily. OK so the Spine Race has more elevation in the first mile than I managed all weekend but running for most of a day, getting too little sleep and then going out again? That sounds a lot like the Spine!

Next up is something a lot hillier – the Lakeland 100. No doubt there will be a blog…

The Summer Spine Sprint 2023 – We can be heroes, just for one day

In the beginning there was the Spine Race. It was 268 miles long and it happened in January. There was also the Challenger, which was ‘only’ 108 miles. Over the years a Summer version has been added, and also the Sprint, a mere 46 miles from Edale to Hebden Bridge. This is still quite a long way and a significant challenge, especially if you’ve never done a race of that distance before.

Obviously I have run further than 46 miles but Sharon hadn’t. After my first unsuccessful Spine attempt in 2021 we recced all of the Spine Sprint route (apart from the last half mile) over three days in September 2021, I even wrote some stuff about us doing it in this blog. This was very helpful for me but also it was to help Sharon decide if she would like to do the Spine Sprint in 2022. At the end of the final blog entry I wrote that she decided to wait until 2023 so we could run it together. She tells it differently. Apparently she told me she didn’t want to run the Spine Sprint either with or without me and I must have either bullied her into it or just fraudulently entered her for it without her consent.

Anyway, however it happened we were in Hebden Bridge with a plan to take a train to Edale to run the 2023 Summer spine Sprint together!

We’d booked ourselves into the Riverview B&B, which we had stayed at when we did our recce runs. It’s a very nice B&B on the river run by Susy and her little dog Eddie. The theory was that it would make sense for us to stay at the finish and take a train to the start. This did mean a two hour journey via Manchester but as the race didn’t start until midday that didn’t look like it would be a problem. We needed to arrive some time before for our kit check but the 8:31 from Hebden Bridge would get us to Edale at 10:31, plenty of time for kit check and final preparation. All these arrangements were made before any rail strikes – cue several months of anxiously waiting for strike date announcements.

There was no train strike on the day! As we had to pass the station on the way to the B&B we stopped to buy tickets so there was one less thing to do the next morning. When I asked for two singles to Edale the man behind the ticket desk asked if we were walking back. his face was a picture when I said ‘No, we are running’.

Next morning we arrived at the station nice and early… only to find our train was running 20 minutes late. Fortunately the train before ours was also running 20 minutes late and also stopped at Manchester so we caught that one instead. Not sure whether we were supposed to get a bus, a tram or to just walk to cross Manchester but someone pointed us towards a tram so we took it to Piccadilly and caught the train to Edale without incident. We were fairly early onto the platform which was just as well, as apparently the whole world was heading to Edale that morning, and we got a seat on what became a very full train.

I have waxed lyrical about (well rambled on about anyway) the organisation of the Spine Race many times in the past and another example of the attention to detail was the fact that a volunteer was at the station to meet us, escort us to kit check and explain exactly what we needed to do next. Now that probably doesn’t sound like a big deal to many people but if you are a bit stressed and a bit nervous that sort of thing really helps!

Kit check appeared to follow the same format as last year when I did the full Summer Spine. Each runner was asked to produce five (I think) items of kit. The five items were based on your race number so it was completely fair and random. Unless your number ended in a zero, in which case you got a full kit check. step forward number 750, Sharon Harper… I had used my experience of this kind of thing (and learned from the Fellsman) so we each had our kit in a reasonably large bag so it could be checked easily and the packed into our backpacks, rather than ripping stuff out of the pack and never quite getting everything back in as well as before. The volunteer doing Sharon’s kit check was very impressed by the high quality and light weight of her gear. She thanked him and pointed out it was mostly mine. I’ve been buying very lightweight kit for next year’s Winter Spine attempt and had lent most of it to Sharon so her pack was as light as possible. I had the still quite good but not quite so light kit I’d collected over many years of ultra running. Actually the first weekend in October will mark my 10 year anniversary since my first ever ultra. It’s amazing to think that after all that time I still frequently make it look like I’ve never done it before.

We both passed kit check without any questions. Lindley Chambers is the kit guru for the Spine Race and has quickly and courteously answered any kit question I have asked him, no matter how stupid and so, whilst kit check is always a little nerve wracking in case you’ve forgotten something, I had been reasonably confident everything I had would pass. Kit check is not a test to try and catch you out, it is possible to purchase or borrow quite a lot of kit at the start if your items aren’t up to scratch – contrary to the impression he likes to give, Lindley doesn’t actually enjoy people failing kit check and will do all he can to get people through it, it’s just that the kit list is there for safety reasons and its only fair that everyone carries the same kit, no matter how fast or slow they are planning to be. I also like Lindley because he told one of the other kit checkers I was ‘Hard as nails’ when it started raining and I was strolling round the car park in my t-shirt when everyone else was diving for waterproofs. My theory was that as it was still about 25 degrees I’d quickly get just as wet under my waterproof as I would without it. It seemed to work as I didn’t use my waterproof for the entire event and never felt cold or wet without it.

Anyway, numbers and trackers were collected, a mostly empty drop bag deposited with the Logistics team (the kit that had been in it was in our packs so it had spare shoes and (in my case) a key for the B&B in it and not a great deal else). People that have read this blog from the beginning may remember Rachel, the Angel of CP4. Well she completed the Spine Sprint last year and was volunteering at the start, at CP1 and at CP4 this year and was a welcome sight at registration. I will get to the race very soon but as I mentioned the Logistics Team this seems like a good place to acknowledge their work. These guys are almost ‘behind the scenes’ and make sure everything is where it should be when it should be and because they are so good at it, you don’t tend to notice them! Our final piece of preparation was to get our bottles filled. We were both going to take the full 3 litres we had to have capacity for as, despite the rain, it was probably going to be a hot race.

Don’t we look good in our matching club kit – almost like we know what we are doing…

We made our way over to the start and stood around towards the back of the field as I didn’t want us to get swept up with the quicker runners and set off too fast. Also in the race was Chris. Chris is another incredible volunteer with one very special talent – she is responsible for the Alston lasagne – she had a t-shirt that said so.

The one and only Chris – Photo Credit Nicky’s Food Bar

It’s finally time to get running!

Almost time…

At 12pm on the 17th of June 2023 Sharon started her first ever Spine Race. At 12:05 I caught up with her and suggested we slow down a bit as there was still a way to go yet. We jogged along the road and turned off to the ‘Offical Start of The Pennine Way’ (that’s what the sign says).

If you are going to make a spelling mistake you might as well make it a cast iron one

By the time we got to Upper Booth, the field was already quite spread out. I didn’t really care how many people were in front or behind us. Whilst we didn’t really know how things were going to unfold, I thought that if we could manage a 3 miles an hour average and finish in about 15 hours we would be doing OK. Many people might think that 3 mph is only an average walking pace and so should be quite easy to achieve, well this is the Pennine Way, it has its own ideas on what average is – especially over 46 miles!

We soon found ourselves at the bottom of Jacob’s Ladder, the second biggest climb on the whole Pennine Way – ‘only’ doing the first bit doesn’t mean you miss out all the hard bits!

Looking happy…
…still fairly happy…
…still a fair bit of climbing left though

We had done quite a lot of mountain training in Fuerteventura and it must have worked as we were at the Kinder Low trig point in not much over an hour. Four miles in we were well ahead of our target pace and we’d completed the biggest single climb we would face in the event. However there was still over forty miles to go so whilst I was very happy with how things were going I knew we couldn’t relax just yet.

At the top!

The Kinder Plateau is covered with an annoyingly large number of rocks, which mean that even once you are up there on the relatively flat ground running is still difficult, especially if you also want to take in the views. I certainly did, next time I’m there will be in January, probably in fog – or a blizzard – so I wanted to make the most of the views while I had them.

The rock-strewn Kinder Plateau
The Mermaid’s Pool
I believe there will be a waterfall somewhere around here in January – nothing in June though

I should mention that one there are two very important things to do if you are taking in the views. The first is keep an eye on the terrain and don’t trip up. I managed that this time. The second is don’t turn off the Pennine Way onto a random path towards the Mermaid’s Pool. Many thanks to the lovely lady leading a group of walkers that called me back before I was more than a few metres off the route.

It might be harder in winter but in summer going the right way shouldn’t be that hard
I do find this marker annoying though – stop making me chose!

I further demonstrated my apparent complete lack of knowledge of the Pennine Way by assuring Sharon we had done all the steep climbs and descents and so she could put her poles away – just before the steep descent off the plateau and the climb up to Mill Hill. Anyway I was eventually right and we were onto the seemingly never ending line of slabs that would lead to the A57 crossing at Snake Pass.

Slabs as far as the eye can see

The ground beside the slabs was decidedly un-boggy. We jogged along the path at a reasonable pace. Slabs are definitely easier than rocks but these are bits of slabs of limestone apparently recovered from old industrial buildings, not nice regular paving stones, and so you still have to be a bit careful not to trip up.

Neither of us were particularly looking forward to the section through Devils Dike and Bleaklow. It isn’t particularly difficult, just annoying underfoot and it wiggles around a bit, which makes it all seem much further than it is.

Towards Devil’s Dike
bleaklow – the path isn’t great but at least it was dry and the view is good

After Bleaklow it was on to Torside and through the heather down to the reservoir. We had completed 15 miles in 4 hours, an hour faster than planned. However we didn’t feel as if we had overexerted ourselves to do that so all was good.

Torside Reservoir

This was a significant point as it was the end of our one of our recce days and about a third of the way through the race. After we crossed the reservoir (across the top of the dam, no swimming or boats required) we were heading towards the ‘other’ big climb of the race, up to Laddow Rocks.

Over 17 miles in and still runnnig well
Always worth looking behind occasionally!
The view ahead wasn’t bad either!

The climb up was tough but we made it and even passed a couple of people on the way. After reaching the top of Laddow Rocks it was a small descent to Crowden Great Brook and a couple of miles of up to the top of Black Hill.

Black Hill Trig Point – Sharon is still smiling, I’m, well…

After Black Hill the path goes down to Dean Clough, a pretty little stream. In January this could be a raging torrent that could knock me off my feet. I prefer the pretty little stream version personally.

Dean Clough

After crossing the road we entered the reservoirs at Wessenden – well more accurately we were on the tracks around them but the water level was so low we could have gone quite a way into them before getting wet.

Wessenden Head Reservoir – very low in water
Random cuteness by the reservoir track

The last really daunting climb is up to Marsden Moor. It isn’t that big in the grand scheme of things but it is steep and we had run over 25 miles by now.

The ‘rockfall’ behind the sign is actually the path
Not so bad once you’re up

After the steep climb the path continues to steadily climb until Black Moss Reservoir and then its downhill to the A62.

Redbrook Reservoir

By now Sharon was starting to feel a bit sick. She had been eating and drinking but probably not drinking enough given it had been a fairly hot day. Incidentally, the jammy bit in the middle of a Jaffa Cake is just about enough to prevent it disintegrating entirely and renders it still edible even if it’s a funny shape – I found that out when I opened my food bag at the top of Kinder Low. We were met by a safety team at the road crossing. This wasn’t the first one we had met but it was the first I took water from. It wasn’t that I had run out, it was just that they had bottled water. The water I’d got at Edale tasted strongly of chlorine and I was keen to have a drink of something more palatable. I was hoping that Sharon would be OK for the next 4 miles as we would then be at Nicky’s Food Bar, where we could have a break and get some food and drink. The path seemed to be doing some more up to White Hill. We’d done ‘Black Hill’, now ‘White Hill’. I was hoping that the hills stayed strictly monochrome and there wasn’t a ‘Green Hill’, or ‘Yellow Hill’ or ‘Red and Blue Striped Hill’. ‘Orange and Purple Hill’ would have been OK though. We’d been running for 9 hours by now and my mind was wandering off in some very strange directions – which was fine, so long as I didn’t start following it. Anyway we were also running with a lovely lady whose name I’ve either forgotten or never asked. I do remember that this was her first ultra and she thought her last as she prefered hiking. Anyway she was kind enough to take our picture at White Hill.

White Hill Trig Point

Soon Nicky’s Food Bar came into view from the outside it’s just a container.

Nicky’s Food Bar

But inside….

Party!

I knew that what would really help Sharon was soup. Sadly soup wasn’t on the menu. However Nicky did find a chicken cuppa-soup, would that do? It certainly would Nicky, you are an absolute star. After some soup and some Tango Sharon wasn’t completely OK but much better and – I hoped – up to the final half marathon to Hebden Bridge. We had hoped we might get to Nicky’s before dark. as it was we made it before sunset. My watch was predicting a 1:30am finish when we left. I thought anything before 2am would be a fantastic achievement for us. We put our extra layer on before leaving Nicky’s. It was about to get dark and I knew we were likely to feel cold after our stop. As it happened we were a little warm but generally it is better to get the warm layers on before you start feeling too chilly.

I have mentioned how dry everywhere was. In 2021 when I left Nicky’s I stepped into a thigh deep bog. Last year I carefully avoided the bog. this year, no bog at all!

The site of a thigh deep bog in 2021

As it got dark we could see the lights of Rochdale in the distance.

Rochdale

We reached the last peak of the race at Blackstone Edge. From here on, apart from a small climb around Stoodley Pike and a small climb at the very end in Hebden Bridge, it was flat or downhill all the way to the end! Rob left Nicky’s at the same time as us and took the ‘Blackstone Edge’ picture for us.

Blackstone Edge, the last peak

We came down from Blackstone Edge, crossed the A58 and turned into the last set of reservoirs before the end. The path is flat and if we are honest not very exciting. However despite not feeling 100% Sharon still had some running in her so we were able to make good progress and soon Stoodley Pike was in sight. Well, it would have been had it been daylight anyway. As it was we had a couple more miles to go before we could really see it. I’ve bought a new phone since I was last there in the dark so this time you can see it in my picture. Last time it was a black shape on a black background.

Stoodley Pike

We had fairly recently run the section from Stoodley Pike to Hebden Bridge after the Haworth Hobble. It’s often the case that towards the end of a run distances feel longer and time seems to drag but this time everything seemed to arrive much earlier than I expected and we were soon on the final steep descent to Hebden Bridge – and we were running. We got to the canal and nearly trod on a load of sleeping ducks, turned into town and got a few shouts of encouragement from the revellers leaving a nightclub and then we were on Birchcliffe Road – which is steep, really, really steep, well it is after 45 miles anyway. I had a slight navigational worry as we came to the end of my route but a whispered ‘Up here’ from a marshal sitting at the entrance to the finish kept us on track and we ran through the finish hand in hand. 13 hour and 16 minutes, absolutely smashed our 15 hour target!

This is what awesome looks like!

The service at the checkpoint was exactly as it had been on the Full Spine last year – amazing. We were sat down, our shoes taken off and labelled and then led to our table and our drop bags. Sharon got some soup and some anti-nausea drugs from the medics and started to feel better. I had some pasta and failed to get us a taxi. The firm claimed to have sent one but we never saw it. They later sent me a text thanking me for using them and for paying £13 for my journey. However someone else had called a taxi which turned out not to be suitable for the number of people and where they wanted to go so we took theirs while they waited for a bigger one.

We got back to our B&B and had to shower despite the late hour. We had the ‘Pennine tan’, a layer of black peaty dust all over our legs. In my case it had even gone through my shoes and socks and I had black feet as well. As we were going to bed at about 3am, the heavens opened. I immediately thought of Chris. When I had checked she was at the last reservoirs with an ETA of 6:02am. The storm was unlikely to help. As it was I needn’t have worried. When I checked the next morning she had finished in 17 hours and 42 minutes, 18 minutes inside the cut-off.

I think this is the bit where I usually say what I thought of the race, what I learned and what I did and didn’t enjoy. Well this one was a bit different as it wasn’t really about me, it was about Sharon and helping her to experience the Spine Race. I learnt she is awesome – but I already knew that. I can honestly say there were no arguments, tantrums (from either of us) or any points at which I felt she was doing anything but giving it her all – absolutely top effort. She was also 17th lady out of 40 starters (38 finishers) so comfortably above average! I think she enjoyed it – she said she did and she is very proud of the t-shirt. She isn’t saying she absolutely won’t sign up for the Challenger next year but that might just be because sign-up is a way away and by not ruling it out I stop trying to convince her for a while.

OK, a few words about me. I really enjoyed the experience. I admit it, I love the Spine Races and all the people that come with them. It was great to share my passion with my nearest and dearest – and for her to see there is more to running the Spine than a dot and and a broken husband at the end. As I mentioned earlier on in the blog, I’ve been buying some rather nice kit for my January Spine attempt. Whilst packing for this one I experimented with putting the full winter kit in my pack. It fits. Now the decision – do I go with a 20 litre pack where it all fits but quite snugly or, as I originally planned, a 30 litre one with plenty of ‘rummage room’? More experimentation is required I feel!

Next up is a very flat race of 75 miles around the Essex coast – the Saltmarsh 75. In 2013 this was a two day event and my very first ultra. In 2023 there is a two day or a one day option. I couldn’t decide so I’m doing the one day event then tail running the second day of the two day event. It seemed like a good idea at the time…

The Fellsman – a tale of hills and bogs

I don’t spend much time looking for races to do as I’m easily led and so just seem to jump onto races other people have found for me. This one started as an invite to a WhatsApp group. Once I’d joined the group of course I had to do the race, didn’t I?

Anyway the Fellsman is a bit different to most races I’ve done. It’s old, very old, older than me even, it started in 1962. Due to Foot and Mouth causing 2001 to be postponed and the 2020 and 2021 events being cancelled due to Covid, 2023 was the 59th time it had happened. It’s also not run by a running club or an events company, it’s run by the Keighley Scout Service Network. I also doesn’t have a fixed route, which, for someone with my navigational skills, could make life interesting…

Not only does it not have a fixed route, a lot of the land it passes over is private and access is negotiated only for the race. this means that recceing a lot of the race is not possible and very much discouraged as it could jeopardise access for the race if people start trespassing at other times of the year.

The kit list was also a little different. Obviously as a Spine racer I’m used to extensive kit lists but, as I said, this one was a bit different. It included five long sleeve tops, one of which had to be waterproof. Although this sounds a lot, in practice it’s only actually one more than I might usually take. The Spine specifies a waterproof jacket, a warm mid-layer and a base layer, which is three, plus I was always going to run in a long sleeved top – which makes four. The two pairs of long trousers was slightly different as the Fellsman specifies that they have to be running or walking trousers (running tights are OK), of which one pair must be waterproof, the Spine requires waterproof trousers plus a base layer. This did change my kit choice slightly. I would have preferred the option of starting in shorts and carrying my heavier waterproofs, which would have meant I would still have to carry another pair of ‘trousers’, so I as I decided to start in tights and carry my lightest waterproof trousers. There was a requirement to carry 300 grams of emergency food – which seemed quite a lot – but no requirement to carry any water at all, which did seem very strange. Most of the rest of the kit was standard although the usual ‘foil blanket’ actually had to be a foil poncho and the contents of the first aid kit were quite well specified. Anyway I never argue against the kit list and as I was taking my Fastpack 20 I wasn’t stuck for space.

Four of us from the Fellsman WhatsApp group arranged to travel up in Ian’s luxury van/camper (the fifth member of the group wasn’t as easily swayed as me and decided that staying at home was a much better idea). Ian was ‘Tent Man’ from my very first ultra, Saltmarsh 2013, we’ve been running and racing together ever since. Terry first entered the Fellsman in 1998 and had a few finishes and a couple of DNFs to his name. Bubs had been terrifying me with tales of just how could it was in 2022 and how he had actually used all five long sleeved tops.

The journey up was fairly uneventful except I was made to have MacDonalds. This wasn’t actually a bad as I feared and they did give me plenty of ketchup to disguise the taste. We arrived a Threshfield (the finish of the race) at somewhere around 5:30 in the evening I think. The car park for the event was at a quarry a short distance from the school so there was a shuttle bus to the school. We also met Neil in the car park, another local(ish) runner from just over the border in Suffolk.

The first thing we needed to do was pass kit check. Terry showed his experience by having his kit easily available in a plastic box, not stuffed tightly into his pack like mine was. I don’t know why I hadn’t done the same as I had done it for the Spine and (as I would prove) it was a lot easier than the kit explosion my kit check turned into. We were near the front of the kit check queue, which was good as we would be bussed to the start in the morning. By checking in early we hoped to get places on the last coach at 6:30 rather than the 5:45 one, which we all did. The lady doing my kit check was very patient as I laboriously unpacked my pack but at least I did have everything and so I was given a small piece of paper to present at registration the next morning. We had booked ourselves places in the school hall to sleep overnight so the next stage was to go and claim our territory and raid the gym storage room for some mats. The number sleeping in the hall had been restricted to 50. As it was I don’t think there were more than about 30 in there so space wasn’t an issue.

My bed for the night – I could have looked happier about it, it was actually surprisingly comfortable

We had also all booked food. The food was OK but I must admit the quantity wasn’t overly generous. However by getting more bread every time I went for a tea refill I think I managed to get enough to eat. After that it was time for bed…

After a fairly decent night’s sleep we got up for breakfast – predictably I went for a bacon sandwich. As I’d got everything sorted the night before and we could just leave our beds so they were there for our return, I couldn’t possibly be late could I? You’d have thought not but I was still in the toilet as everyone was being rounded up for the bus…

The bus trip was uneventful apart from the highlight of going through Gargrave and passing the legendary Co-op – which I obviously had to point out to my colleagues. They seemed a bit underwhelmed by it if I’m honest. Anyway we were soon at Ingleton and going through check in. Fortunately I hadn’t lost my kit check paper and was given a tracker, an orange thing that looked like a watch but was actually a transponder to check into each checkpoint with and my tally. The tally is a bit of Fellsman history. It’s a plastic disc with all the checkpoints around the edge, which is clipped at every checkpoint. miss a checkpoint, your disc doesn’t get clipped and you are disqualified. Realistically, with the tracker, the transponder and the fact that someone writes down you number at every checkpoint, it’s probably not completely necessary any more but it is part of the event history and apparently they send it to you afterwards with your certificate as a memento. We also optimistically entered ourselves as a team, The Sandbaggers – so called due to all the pre-race banter in which none of us were fit, fast, going to be racing… the usual pre-race nonsense.

Terry, Y.T., Ian and Bubs – The Sandbaggers. That’s my tally with my race number, 15, on it.

There was short welcome speech and a minutes silence for a long time Fellsman volunteer who had recently passed away and then it was time for the race to start. This was the first indication that the Fellsman is ‘different’. In every other race I’ve ever done, when the starter says ‘Go!’ everyone runs in roughly the same direction – if they don’t they are going the wrong way. Some of the Fellsman route is mandated, much is obvious. The rest – as I was soon to find – mainly involves bogs. However as there is no mandated route off the starting field, people shot off in all directions. My fellow Sandbaggers headed straight for a high steep bank and scrambled up that so I followed them. Once outside the field I think pretty much everyone ended up on the same foot path towards Ingleborough, first peak and checkpoint of the event, also the second highest at 724m.

Climbing towards Ingleborough – I wasn’t holding out much hope for a view at the top

After leaving Ingleborough the descent soon became very steep and technical and so I inevitably had to multitask – get down, get out of everyone else’s way because I was so slow, oh, and be absolutely petrified whilst doing it. Fortunately this turned out to be the only really tricky technical bit en-route and eventually I made it down and arrived at the second checkpoint at Hill Inn. The Fellsman has a large number of checkpoints, 25 to be precise, not including the start and finish. This is because it is (mainly) a point-to-point event rather than a fixed course, if there were no checkpoints it would simply be a race from Ingleton to Threshfield via whatever route you liked. Due to this not all the checkpoints have food and water at them, only the ‘roadside’ ones. Obviously the road at the peak of Ingleborough is conspicuous by it’s absence so checkpoint two was my first opportunity to refill my bottle and stock up on biscuits. I had my bottle refilled with orange squash, an idea someone beside me thought was excellent and did the same. Every roadside checkpoint had orange squash so I stuck to filling my bottles with that for the whole race.

Looking back towards CP2 – you can just see runners crossing field from Ingleborough

After Ingleborough it was a very tough climb up to the the highest point on the course, Whernside at 736m. I’d been over Pen-y-Ghent on the Spine Race so I had now completed the Yorkshire Three Peaks. I don’t think I get a certificate or anything though.

I thought this was a tough climb. It was, but the day was only just getting going at this point…
Approaching the second checkpoint – I was right about the view…

After Whernside it was another roadside checkpoint at Kingsdale followed by another climb to Gragareth. The race was now starting to get interesting. It wasn’t that he first bits weren’t interesting, they were, but they were also quite busy with walkers and runners from the Yorkshire Three Peaks Race which is on he same day. Gragareth didn’t seem to be quite a much of a tourist hotspot.

There was little change of elevation between Gragareth and the next hilltop checkpoint at Great Coum. Navigation was easy as you just followed a wall. The advice was to stick to the left side of the wall as it meant you didn’t have to climb over any adjoining walls. It did however mean you had to run though bogs. Most of the boggy bits could be jumped or avoided. One of the ones I found was just about jumpable if you got it right. I sort of tripped, stumbled and jumped into the middle of it instead. It wasn’t quite waist deep but was very wet.

After Great Coum the wall following continued, descending towards Flinter Gill. The wall gave way to following a well defined track. Another runner caught up with me and warned me that the path became quite rocky and ankle testing. I thanked her for the warning. I didn’t see her again as I managed to slip over and land heavily on my bum way before the tricky bit.

At the end of the track I caught up another runner. A very smartly dressed gentleman asked if we knew the short cut. The other runner said he did so I said nothing and followed him. He didn’t know the short cut. fortunately the previously mentioned smartly dressed chap saw us go the wrong way and called us back and pointed us the right way for the short cut.

The next checkpoint was a roadside one at Dent and was quite busy. A lot of people appeared to be having a bit of a break there as it was about a third of the way through the event. I had some coffee and a sausage roll and probably some biscuits.

A tent at Dent

There was also a kit check at Dent. Fortunately I still had everything. I did try and leave my poles behind but the kit check man called me back before I wandered off too far.

Kit Check!

I liked Dent, it has a phone box.

The Dent Defibrillator Phone Box

After Dent there was a road, then a well defined path and then the first of the ‘Brave and Bold’ sections as I was calling the bits where you had absolutely nothing at all to follow apart from a GPS track – or a compass bearing if you are going old-school. My route followed the Dales highway until it passed a ruin, at which point I was to strike out across country until I reached Blea Moor, checkpoint nine. If I was lucky I’d find the ‘trod’, an unmarked route that had been walked by sufficient people to create a path. You know a race is old when it has its own language. I did occasionally find ‘trods’ at various points on the event but after my experience on Blenkinsopp Common on my first Spine attempt I knew you could waste a lot of time hopping backwards and forwards looking for paths – and that was on the Pennine Way, there was no guarantee a path even existed up on Blea Moor. Looking at the GPX file of my route I seemed to do quite well and got there fairly directly – I don’t remember falling in any bogs either but that might just be due to my bad memory.

Runners crossing to the Blea Moor checkpoint
The checkpoint – how hard can it be to get to? Quite!

There was a path from Blea Moor. My route followed a fence to a main footpath but I saw others take a more direct route through the fence. As I could see a ‘trod’ on my route I stuck with it, I had no idea what the other route would be like although Terry took it and said later it was OK and there was a trod there too. I was now running directly over Bleamoor Tunnel on the Settle to Carlisle line and passed one of the air shafts which was cut into the tunnel to allow the smoke and steam out in the days of steam trains (they still run steam trains along it).

Shaft No. 3

On the way down from the tunnel the path passed through a garden (it was either Dent Head Farm or somewhere else). There was a path through the garden and ordinarily I would have carefully followed the path and kept off the garden. However on the path was a large angry goose. He had clearly taken ownership of said path and was making it quite clear I should stay away so had to resort to walking over the grass to avoid the aforementioned foul tempered fowl.

I jogged along the road section to checkpoint 10 at Stonehouse. I think I had some more coffee and some biscuits. As I was about to leave I bumped into Ian as he exited the toilet tent having just arrived. We exchanged pleasantries and I told him I’d see him later when he caught me up. He said he wouldn’t but there is a fairly consistent pattern when we do events together that I set off quickly and slow down and Ian does the opposite and so often catches me later in the race.

Shortly after leaving Stonehouse the route lead me through the Arten Gill Viaduct on the Settle to Carlisle line. This isn’t the famous ‘Harry Potter’ viaduct, that’s Ribblehead but is one of three viaducts on the line and, at 36m high, is the second tallest after the one at Crosby Garrett.

Arten Gill Viaduct

Despite having had a few falls, sore feet and very sore muscles, I was quite enjoying life at this point. the sun had made a brief appearance and the route was quite interesting. However it was time for another long climb, eventually arriving at checkpoint 11 on top of Great Knoutberry Hill. It may have only been a ‘hill’ but it was still 672m high. The last checkpoint had been at only 254m, over 400m of climb in around 2 miles. Great Knoutberry is an ‘out and back’. I passed Ian going into the checkpoint as I was running out – he was only about half a mile behind me.

My route took me back along the track I’d left to turn up to Great Knoutberry and onto the Pennine Bridleway. However everyone else was following a trod directly in line with the path down. I followed them. I’m not sure that I shouldn’t have done my own thing. I soon lost the path and was basically trudging through the grass in the general direction of a gate through a wall down to checkpoint 12 at Redshaw. I did pass a photographer after I’d gone through the gate, which is always a good thing as it usually indicates you are in the right sort of place. I also had a hotdog and some coffee at the checkpoint.

From checkpoint 12 to checkpoint 13 at Snaizeholme was only about a mile along an obvious path. As a result I got a bit of a shock when the lady with the small child ready to clip my tally said it was checkpoint 15! Fortunately she was joking – even I’m not that bad at navigating.

I set off from the checkpoint at a fairly brisk pace but soon, inevitably, Ian caught me up. I expected him to push on but he decided he fancied some company so we started running together. We joined the infamous Cam high Road, and Ian had to listen to me ranting on about why this was the most pointless, stupid, miserable section of footpath in Britain. Fortunately we soon turned off towards Dodd Fell.

Dodd Fell was another ‘Brave and Bold’ section so it was good to have some company. We got to Checkpoint 14 on the top without too much trouble. Coming down was slightly more challenging but the aim was to hit a wall and follow it to the road. We executed the plan fairly well, especially as visibility wasn’t the best, but I think we could have saved ourselves half a mile by going through the wall where it had a wooden section to allow water to flow down. The rest of the wall was a bit challenging to scale – quite high and with an additional wire top section – but we might have got through there. Anyway a short walk down the road took us to the turn for the path to the next checkpoint at Fleet Moss. This was another roadside one and produced coffee, tinned fruit and one of my favourite foods which is not seen often enough on races in my opinion, rice pudding!

The next bit was not great if I’m honest. It’s not really the organisers fault. As I said at the start, a lot of the race is on private land and for some reason they are no longer allowed to go over Middle Tongue and so the race has to follow the road for over three and a half miles. It is downhill but that wasn’t so comfortable by now – so while I’m running down a road, it seems like a good time to mention shoes. There was a lot of discussion about footwear before this race. within our group the shoe of choice was the Inov8 X-Talon 260 Ultra. I’d used this on two Cheviot Goat races and the Haworth Hobble and had been very happy with it. However I was a bit concerned about the amount of hard trail on this event as they are much more suited to mud and bog. As it was they were excellent and almost life-saving on the steep wet climbs, not so good on some of the wet rock and a bit firm on the hard sections. However I think my biggest mistake was a) not wearing liners with the waterproof socks and b) not going up half a size to account for the fact I was using quite thick waterproof socks on this event. As a result by now my feet were sore and when I checked my feet after the event I found several quite large grazes on them. However Ian seemed to be suffering even more with his feet so I tried not to moan too much. I think the X-Talons were the right choice but with liner socks and a larger size next time (next time??? what am I saying???)

Anyway although the road to the Deepdale checkpoint may have been less than ideal, its saving grace was the phone box (complete with phone) at Oughtershaw. The actual checkpoint was also very picturesque on the River Wharfe. So picturesque in fact that you would have thought I’d have taken a picture but no, just the phone box.

Oughtershaw’s phone box

After we left the checkpoint we passed some very cute lambs. These came over and nuzzled our hands whilst mum looked over with a slightly worried expression on her face (I’m making that up really – I can’t really read sheep’s expressions). I tried to take a photo but due to the limited number of pockets on the front of my pack my phone had been sharing a pocket with several biscuits for the last few hours, including a rapidly disintegrating fig roll. By the time I’d wiped the crumbs of the camera the lambs had got hungry and gone over to mum to feed. I took a picture anyway.

‘Leave my kids alone!’ ‘They’re not kids, they’re lambs’

By now the light was fading and we were about to go for another ‘Brave and Bold’ adventure across Cray Moor. I must admit, I don’t remember too much about this section and the GPS route doesn’t look too mad so I can only assume we passed checkpoint 17 at Chapel Moor and checkpoint 18 at Hell Gap without too much drama. I think it was a bit boggy but that may just be an extrapolation from my memory of ever other off-road bit of the course rather than a genuine memory.

Checkpoint 19 was another roadside one at Cray. I drank coffee (with sugar for added energy) and made a cheese and Marmite sandwich.

By now we were starting to run out of climbs and I was becoming optimistic that a sub 20 hour finish was possible. However there was still the little matter of Buckden Pike – and Great Whernside.

The climb to Buckden Pike followed Cray Gill for a while. Our GPX file had us on the left side, we went right. Now I’m home looking at a map it appears there are routes both sides. However we decided to correct our ‘error’ by scrambling down to the Gill and back up again. Well, Ian did. I sort of slid to the bottom, didn’t see were Ian had gone up, tried to climb up, failed, went back down, found a slightly less impossible climb up and eventually re-joined Ian – who by now was a bit worried as apparently he’d been shouting to ask if I was OK. I was basically in a trench and so hadn’t heard him and he had started trying to work out how he was going to explain this to Sharon… Anyway this was one of those points where I was very glad of the X-Talons or I’d never have managed to climb out. Of course I could have gone 50m to my left to a crossing point – I know that now…

Once the Gill had been dealt with it was a straight trek up to checkpoint 20, Buckden Pike at 702m. From there it was a case of following a wall for a while until we hit Walden Road followed by Starbottom Fell Road – at least that’s what it says on the map I’m looking at, I have no recollection of any of that looking remotely road like. It must have a least been a track I guess as we found checkpoint 21 at Top Mere. From there we continued along Starbottom ‘Road’ until we turned off to Park Rash, the penultimate roadside checkpoint. It had cocktail sausages. I ate cocktail sausages, a lot of cocktail sausages. I like cocktail sausages on checkpoints.

The good news was we’d only dropped about 200m from Buckden Pike and Great Whernside is only 2m higher than Buckden Pike. The bad news was I was knackered and 202m of up seemed a very long way. However Great Whernside was the last big climb and there were only two checkpoints left to have clipped on our tallies. Even better, once we got to checkpoint 24 at Capplestone Gate it was hard to go wrong (although we did see one group try). From the checkpoint we just had to keep the wall on our right until we joined Bycliffe Road (which almost was) and turn off onto Green Lane, which was sporadically marked with poles and beacons.

Finally we arrived at the last checkpoint at Yarnbury. We didn’t stay long as it was only two miles along a real road through Grassington to Threshfield and the finish. Although it was almost impossible to go wrong we both kept checking the route as we really didn’t want bonus miles at this stage. Sub 20 was easy, sub 19 impossible so we threw in a bit of running just for the look of the thing. I tried to photograph the telephone box in Grassington but by now my phone was more biscuit than camera and Ian quickly became bored of my futile attempts to make it work. Quite what the woman was doing standing in the square at 4am we didn’t find out. She told us she was nothing to do with the event but didn’t volunteer any further information and we just carried on. Eventually we crossed the river, ran up the last bit of road to the school and checked in 19 hours and 19 minutes – very happy with that. Ian, being a total gentleman, even let me tap in first. Terry had finished some hours (about 3 of them) ahead of us and Bubs was a couple of hours behind us. The most important thing was that the Sandbaggers had a 100% finish rate.

There was food available but I just took the shower, bed option. A few hours later I was a bit hungry and although dinner had been a bit disappointing, breakfast certainly wasn’t. Scrambled eggs, beans, sausage and of course, bacon. Followed by a cheeky bacon sandwich with double bacon.

We stopped for the prize giving and then set off home. We stopped at Burger King. you’ll never guess what was in my burger…

So the inevitable question is – would I do it again? Well, I’ll be honest it was a lot of type two fun – that’s the sort that’s only fun when you’ve finished. The event itself was incredibly well organised, everyone was friendly and competent. you could argue that after 60 years they should be but a lot has changed over that time – the event used to go the opposite direction for a start. Shuttle buses were great, the checkpoints were great (flat Coke as drink option would go down very well with a lot of the runners though). The kit check and all the administration was well handled. Personally I think the kit list could maybe be tweaked slightly to be more in line with other similar events but equally maybe a slightly ‘different’ kit list is part of the race’s character. With the trackers and transponders the tally could be dropped but definitely shouldn’t be – that is absolutely part of the race’s character. It was bit demoralising at first but as more and more segments got clipped it really felt like I was getting somewhere.

What about the route? Well it has the potential to be beautiful – sadly it was a bit grey and misty (and then dark and misty) so I didn’t see it at its best. In terms of terrain it manages to distil all the variations in terrain you would encounter on the full Spine Race into 60 miles in my opinion. You’ve got rocky tracks, waist deep bogs (if you aren’t careful), some roads, steep slippery climbs, steep slippery descents and of course ‘the trod’. I don’t think I’ve ever had so much variation over that sort of distance before. This makes it a challenge but a good one – grip or comfort? Can you find shoes with enough of both?

The fact there is no completely defined route or official GPX file pushed me right out of my comfort zone. However the fact I spent several weeks plotting out my own GPX file, with every point mentioned in the instructions waymarked, meant that although I’d not run any of it before (apart from the Cam £$%^& High Road) I had some familiarity with the route and could remember certain key parts. I’ll be honest, bashing my way through bogs in the dark trying to find barely existent paths is not my favourite sort of running but it is excellent practice for the Spine Race!

I’ve been asked how it compares to the other ‘grim’ (as my friends call them) races I’ve done. Cheviot Goat, Lakeland 100 and of course the Spine. I’ve thought long and hard and I would say it’s harder than the Goat, just because the terrain is more varied, bog is quite a big part of the Fellsman but the Goat has more bog and less hard trails. I think its even harder than Lakeland 100. It is obviously shorter and only involves one night but Lakeland is mainly on fairly well defined paths, only has a bit of bog and goes over the passes rather than insisting on going to the top of everything. Obviously the Spine is harder as its 4 1/2 times as long but mile for mile I’d call it a tie.

So will I do it again? Well I’m 60 next year and its the 60th time the race will have been run so it sort of seems rude not to…

I’ll finish (finally) by saying a big thank you to the organisers for such a well run event and to my fellow Sandbaggers for making it such a great weekend. A particular thank you to Ian, who I’m sure could have run much faster than me but made the latter stages (especially the night ones) much more pleasant (even if he did keep moaning about his feet).

Until the next blog entry, the only way is still Pennine!

The Haworth Hobble – Out on the Wily, Windy (and snowy) Moors

So because I don’t read my blog because I think it’s terrible, I’m not sure if I’ve mentioned the fact that I will be running the 2023 Summer spine Sprint with Sharon. If I haven’t, I am. If I have, I still am. Some of my friends (well, bad influences anyway) had entered the Haworth Hobble and, due to its location and massive FOMO, were easily able to persuade me to enter as well. The event is largely North of the Spine Sprint route, but does include the section of the Pennine Way from Stoodley Pike to Hebden Bridge on the Hebden Bridge Loop, which is very close to the end of the Spine Sprint route. There was also a ‘mixed Pairs’ category so I was able to persuade Sharon we should enter the previously mentioned category as it would be good training and it would ensure we had to run together (she normally tells me to run on my own and leave her to enjoy her run). I found a pub we could stay at with a phone box outside, a graveyard next door and only a couple of hundred metres from race registration and the finish, possibly the most perfect accommodation I’d ever found for anything.

When we entered we weren’t expecting the weather to be perfect but equally snow wasn’t high on our list of likely weather conditions either. However in the days before the race there was a Yellow Snow Warning more or less centred on the race route. Incidentally Met Office, I understand the colour coding for warnings but please understand, no-one can say there is a ‘yellow snow warning’ without sniggering. Due to the possibility of extreme weather and me having a very large bag to put my kit in, I channelled my inner Noah and packed two of everything, so I had kit for ‘normal’ weather plus much warmer kit should it be needed. I also packed my Inov8 G300 trail shoes if the ground was likely to be solid, and my trusty X-talon 260s if it was likely to be soft and snowy. I also packed waterproof socks. I don’t like to dictate to Sharon what she should wear but I did persuade her to at least take her X-talons and waterproof socks, even though I know neither of those are her preferred footwear. The fact that it started snowing in Chelmsford on Wednesday helped to focus our minds on making sure we had enough kit.

As Sharon does all the driving (my driving is worse than my navigating) I’d booked us into the Sibson Inn for the Thursday night so we could have a leisurely drive up on Friday and Sharon wouldn’t be too knackered for the race. If anyone is looking for accommodation on the A1 near Peterbrough I can thoroughly recommend the Sibson Inn, masses of character and an incredibly friendly welcome from Gabrielle, who we chatted to for most of the evening.

The Sibson Inn – nothing to do with the race but it looks lovely with its dusting of snow

On Friday morning we were hearing reports that the threatened huge dump of snow had happened – it was white, not yellow, but that seemed to be the only good news associated with it. Motorists had been stuck on the M62 (which was where we are heading) all night and general snowy havoc had been wreaked all around the region of the race. Peterborough was relatively unscathed and by the time we left there was no snow on the road. However Gary Chapman (Seven times Winter Spine Finisher, Legend and Haworth Hobble Race Director) had started sending reports from Top Withens, where he was ‘playing’ in four foot deep snow drifts. His view was that there was nothing inherently dangerous about the conditions but that it was likely that the race route would be shortened as the conditions meant everyone would be a lot slower. The main challenge he appeared to face was logistics, his race car park was buried in snow and there were questions about how possible it would be to get marshals and supplies out to checkpoints, however if it was at all possible there would be a race!

From our perspective Google didn’t mention any obstacles in our way – the M62 closure was after the point we turned off it, our accommodation was booked and – at this point – non-refundable and as we had all our winter kit if the worst came to the worst we could have a little adventure on our own. I should mention at this point I’d even taken the unprecedented step of buying a map of the area. I know I like to claim I don’t know what to do with one and I do go the wrong way a lot but actually I can read a map and most of my navigational errors are due to a lack of concentration. Anyway we started driving to Haworth while Gary was running round Yorkshire re-planning a race that was due to start in less than 24 hours…

The snow was evident but fairly unspectacular all the way up the A1. Even the M62 looked OK but as we went further west it became obvious that a lot of snow had fallen, a lot of snow. All the roads were clear but in places they weren’t clear to their full width and there was a lot of snow all around. After a stop for fuel – on a forecourt that had clearly been very deep in snow earlier in the day – we finally arrived in Haworth. The SatNav (Google) was rather optimistically trying to send us up ‘Main Street’. This was a very picturesque steep cobbled street, which those of us of a certain age will forever associate with the Second Movement of Dvorak’s New World Symphony and Hovis bread (even if the original was actually in Dorset apparently). It was also covered in snow. Fortunately the map indicated we could take the main road around to the top of the hill and approach the pub that way. It didn’t help. We got tot the pub but, despite the best efforts of the locals to help us with a push, there was no way the little Polo was going to climb the last snow covered slope into the pub car park. some slightly fraught driving later and we managed to park in the car park for the Bronte Museum and hoped there would be a thaw before Sunday.

We went into the pub and ordered lunch, massive sandwiches and chips. This was fortuitous as, due to the snow, Haworth was lacking in chefs that day and this would be the last proper food we would find. To be fair the sandwiches were so substantial we didn’t really try to find any more and just ate crisps later.

The Black Bull Pub – and a phone box!
Haworth Church and graveyard – next door to the pub

As promised by 9pm we had been told what the plan was for the race. We had already told it would be on and that it would be around 18-19 miles. As it was, it was 21.2 miles and we would be allowed to use GPS due to the late route changes. Obviously I was delighted, I had been quite prepared to do it ‘properly’ with a map and compass and had spent a lot of time looking over the route in preparation but GPS would be a lot easier. I had brought my hand held GPS anyway as I felt that if we had a white-out I would sooner navigate myself out of trouble with GPS and get disqualified than be rescued by Mountain Rescue – and still get disqualified. It’s a bit long-winded getting a GPX file into Garmin Connect using only a mobile phone but I managed it – and even added markers for the checkpoints – so I could have it on my watch, which was more convenient than the handheld. The start had also been delayed until 11am as the temperature was predicted to drop to -12 degrees overnight and this would mean that those starting early (there was an option to start up to one and a half hours early for those that felt they would be slower) wouldn’t be faced with full-on Arctic conditions. It also meant we could optimistically book breakfast at the pub…

…Saturday morning and the great Haworth Chef Shortage hadn’t abated and so breakfast was a bit of a non-starter. This wasn’t a problem as we had never expected breakfast if the start had been at 8am and there were bacon rolls for sale at Race HQ so we went for those instead.

So which items of my has collection of kit did I actually wear? Gary had told us in the copious information he had provided on Friday that we shouldn’t overdress as we would be working quite hard in the snow but that we should have warm kit with us. I went for my thermal vest, long sleeve LBRR top and my Mountain Equipment gilet for my top half. After some thought I settled on my windproof tights rather than my full-on winter ones as I had waterproof trousers if I needed any further leg protection. I also went for the X-Talons as there was definitely snow out there. I had an extra warm layer with me as per the kit list as well as my lighter weight waterproof as the weather was actually quite nice and not forecast to get too bad all day.

Anyway, we went to race HQ, got our bacon roll and met up with our fellow Ridge Runners, Ian and Terry. They were also running as pair (male, not mixed) but would undoubtedly be much quicker than us. We also registered and picked up our numbers and ‘dibber’ (timing chip). Finally it was time to walk down ‘Hovis Hill’ so we could start the race by running up it – I love it when Race Directors have a sense of humour…

Race Start – no snow in sight!

After a short race briefing we were off up the hill (did I mention the start was uphill?). After the uphill bit we turned onto West Lane, which heads West, and Cemetery Road, which passes Haworth Cemetery, so no mysteries there. From there we continued along Bronte Way and into the stunning snow covered landscape. For us the running wasn’t too hard but then we had had the benefit of around 300 people going ahead of us and breaking the trail. Our first major landmark was Bronte Bridge.

Just before Bronte Bridge
Looking back at the Bridge – not sure what the guy in the top right quarter of the picture is doing….

We continued up across the moor towards Top Withens and the ruins that almost certainly aren’t Wuthering Heights.

First sighting of Top Withens
Heathcliff, it’s me, I’m Cathy, I’ve come home, I’m so cold, Let me in-a-your window

Just because it’s called Top Withens doesn’t apparently mean it is at the top and we climbed a little more until we were rewarded with a wonderfully exhilarating run downhill to Walshaw Dean Reservoir.

Walshaw Dean Reservoir

Soon after we reached the first checkpoint at the Old Packhorse pub. As the road to the pub was closed we had been told the volunteers would run to it and only water would be available. Like many things on the race the checkpoint overachieved and also has a small supply of biscuits, including Jaffa Cakes. As I’d done quite well on my last race on Jaffa Cakes I decided to take a couple with me.

Checkpoint One – The Packhorse Inn

It was just before this point the race route deviated from the original plan. Instead of continuing West and South to turn back towards Todmorden and the infamous Stoodley Pike, we turned onto the Pennine Way and through Slack (Top and Bottom), passing quite close to Checkpoint One of the Spine Race at Hebden Hey Scout Campsite. On the way we encountered a roving medic, who could have been quite useful as Sharon had just had her one and only fall of the day, but fortunately only her pride was dented. He had a dog with him who was, we were told, a spaniel and hence couldn’t give us a lab report. There was also no cat scan available as the cat refused to come out in the cold.

We continued into Heptonstall to a checkpoint which I am happy to mention in the same breath as the legendary Alston Checkpoint on the Spine Race. It was epic! Apart from a seemingly limitless number of incredibly happy volunteers it was also able to supply me with a bacon roll and a tot of whisky!

No words necessary! (Photo Credit Karolina Faith Full)
So good I nearly smiled

We were now back on the original route and would be following the Calder Way and the Calder Aire Link back towards Haworth.

As it was by now well into the afternoon, the rising temperature and vast number of people ahead of us meant that the path was getting quite wet in places.

Sharon is always ready to smile
Snow starting to break up on the path
The views were still amazing

There was still one last checkpoint before the end. This was an ‘out and back’ and to my surprise we passed Terry and Ian on their way out as we were running in. I was quite pleased to see they were only about a mile and a quarter ahead of us, although we still had our checkpoint stop to make.

And once again the checkpoint didn’t disappoint. It was getting quite cold and windy by this point but once again the volunteers were very happy and providing hotdogs! I’m fairly sure I really did end this race heavier than when I started.

The very happy band at CP3 (Photo Credit Gary Chapman)
Hotdogs! (Photo Credit Rebecca Devereux)

We only had four miles left to the finish and most of those were down. The last climb was along Moorside Lane until we turned off into the park and mostly round rather than over Penistone Hill. We passed through Haworth Churchyard and the Black Bull pub and retraced the route we had walked to the start to the finish.

We’re a pair- we’d better finish together! (Phot Credit Terry Brewster)
That’ s better – I appear to have almost smiled again

Speaking of the Alston Checkpoint it was fantastic to see Rachel and Chris from the aforesaid oasis at the finish. Chris had also been in the race and Rachel had turned up probably because she wanted to make sure I’d been looking after my feet (they were fine). It was great to see Rachel and have a chance to chat when she wasn’t having to look after several hungry Spiners at the same time.

So, what’s the verdict on the absolutely unique (or at least, Gary chapman hopes it is I’m sure) slightly shortened 2023 Haworth Hobble? It was brilliant, that’s the verdict. I can’t imagine how Gary managed to basically plan an entire race in 15 hours – which was about the time from him getting to Top Withens and seeing how deep the snow was to an email being sent with the new race plan – but he did and I think everyone was very glad he did and we would like to thank him profusely for doing so. I guess if you can finish the Winter Spine seven times you get used to dealing with things. I think he would be the first to admit the process was made much easier by the incredible team he had assembled to help him run the event, including many Spiners with plenty of experience of exactly the conditions we had.

Just as a footnote, I mentioned we wanted to use this event as a bit of a recce and practice for the Summer Spine Sprint. As it turned out I got a bit more experience in snow that I’m sure will be invaluable in January 2024 on the Winter Spine but as we stayed overnight at Haworth we decided to go and have a little run around Stoodley Pike anyway.

Stoodley Pike from ‘London Road’ where we would have started the climb up – so we did.

The 2023 Haworth Hobble was a great event and, as I said before, almost certainly unique. Hopefully Gary’s nightmares will stop soon and he will be planning the 2024 Hobble on its traditional route, in which case, I think we might be back. However until then…

…the only way is Pennine

The Cheviot Goat Ultra II

So December last year I was saved from certain death – or at least a DNF – by the forced last minute cancellation of the Cheviot Goat Race. I took up the offer of the rescheduled March event and it proved invaluable to gain a bit of experience in the Cheviots before the Summer spine Race.

So why did I give Cold Brew Events more money to do it in December as well?…

As I think I’ve already mentioned in this blog, I am seriously considering the Winter spine Race in 2024. However I have little experience of cold weather running and even less of cold weather mountain running. The Spine Race finishes across the Cheviots and so a proper, full-on winter Goat race looked like a good way to get some experience of cold and dark. By now I had some experience of the ground conditions on the Cheviots (bog mostly) – and the route was similar (but longer and with a wicked climb added) to the March event – and so I wouldn’t be confronted with a completely new situation, just more dark and more cold.

By now we had a well practised travel plan – travel to the Premier Inn at Grantham on Thursday evening after work, and stay for a couple of nights at the Tavern Inn in Alnwick before/during the race. The rooms in the Tavern are basic but the food is amazing and the customers very friendly – I’ve never met a mole catcher before but had a good chat with Steve the night before the race about mole catching and the race, among other things.

Wonder what happens here then?
Normal looking people at registration

I did all the race check-in type stuff on Friday evening. It was all done in a very friendly and efficient sort of way. I wore my Spine hoodie to try and help with my deep-seated insecurities about whether I should be there but diplomatically held my number over the Spine logo for the tracker photo.

Smiling? Seems unlikely, must be wind

It was dark when I arrived at and left registration – much like it would be a 5:30 the next morning when I would return to Ingram for the 2022 Cheviot Goat Race.

Goat flags flying

Due to it being darker and (I expected) boggier and generally poorer weather than March, I had estimated it would take me about 25% longer, i.e. around 22 hours. I gave Sharon a timing chart based on my times to each timing point in March with a 25% increase. The course wasn’t exactly the same but the idea was that she could see how accurate my estimate was and get some idea when I might finish.

So after I almost forgot my drop bags, we left the pub at 5am and arrived at the start a little before 5:30. I sat in the car for as long as possible before I handed in my drop bags and went to the race briefing. We were told the March event hadn’t counted as a proper Cheviot Goat Race as we did it in t-shirts (true, but it was a long sleeved t-shirt). I’m not sure Ian or Jackie would be too pleased to be told that but, assuming I finished, for me there would be no argument, I would be a Cheviot Goat finisher in 2022 (hopefully twice, even if one didn’t count).

On the start line – too near the front

There were around three times as many starters as there had been in March and when I looked behind me I realised I was way too near the front so I moved back a bit. I didn’t want to get caught up running too fast at the start and I didn’t want to get in the way of those that were quicker than me – especially as we were starting in the dark.

Still 40 minutes to sunrise but getting quite light nonetheless

It fairly soon started to get light. Add to this the fact that the underfoot conditions were quite good at the start and it didn’t feel too much different to the March edition. Indeed as I came towards Shillmoor and saw the sheep on the hills and bright blue skies it was a lot like March – had all my worry and warm kit been for nothing?

Absolutely no hint of what was to come!

The climb up Shillhope Law isn’t the longest but it is steep and ascends over 250m. It was here I saw just how effective poles are. I could see about eight people ahead of me on the climb without poles, by the top I was comfortably ahead of all of them. I know some people refer to them as ‘cheat sticks’ and I only use them on races with a lot of climbing, but if the race allows them then you aren’t cheating and they really do help.

I was reunited with my drop bag at the first checkpoint at Barrowburn and so was able to implement the first parts of my strategy for the race. I had started in a relatively lightweight Mountain Equipment Firefly jacket. It is a nice jacket and more than capable for the first part of the race but I felt I would need something a bit heavier for the higher sections, especially as I would be doing much of it after dark, so I switched to another Mountain Equipment jacket, the Lhotse. Sadly I’m not sponsored by Mountain Equipment but I really like their jackets so if anyone from ME is reading this and has any free stuff to give away please bear me in mind. However before changing any kit I took off my watch and put it and my phone on charge to try and keep them going for the duration of the race. I also refilled my bottles with Tailwind and had a cup of coffee. I was going to have some soup but it wasn’t quite hot enough. I would only have had to wait 5 minutes but having made use of the only toilet on the course and changed my jacket I decided to push on.

After leaving the checkpoint I embarked on the three mile steady climb up to Windy Gyle and my first sight of the Pennine Way since I was there on the Spine Race in June. There was even a rainbow (more of a sleetbow if I’m honest but I prefer the term rainbow)

Apparently the Pennine Way is at the end of the rainbow, not a pot of gold – which is a little disappointing

Fortunately this time I was upright and my back felt reasonably OK. I did however make the same error as I remeber making on the Spine Race. There is a finger post pointing along the Pennine Way – except it isn’t, or at least I don’t think it is, it appears to be pointing along a boggy path that runs exactly parallel to the Pennine Way on the Scottish side of the border. The actual Pennine Way is a slabbed path on the other side of the fence, which I climbed over as the slabs looked more inviting. Actually whilst better than bog, they were ever so slightly slippery so I took a little care on them until I came to The Mountain Rescue Team who welcomed me to Scotland and pointed me down the track towards the improbably named Cocklawfoot. This hadn’t been part of the March event and would involve a simply massive climb from one of the lowest parts of the course at 240m, to the top of the Cheviot at 815m, over a distance of 4 3/4 miles. incidentally if anyone is annoyed by my mix of metric and imperial measurements then I’m sorry, its just that for some reason I always use miles for distance but am in the habit of using metres to measure elevation. I know it’s inconsistent but then so am I.

The path down to Cocklawfoot was a nice easy runnable one and where I first started chatting to Michelle. Michelle is doing the Spine Challenger in January and was using the Goat as a training event. She was very positive about everything and good company. At this point we weren’t running together but were running at similar paces. When we reached the bottom at Cocklawfoot there were as promised many signs to prevent us wandering into the shoot that was going on nearby. However the route was sufficiently clear that I never felt in danger of wandering off and being shot.

The first part of the climb took us onto Auchope Rig and a brief respite from steep climbing until we re-joined the Pennine Way at what turned out to be a significant part of my Spine Race – Hut 2! I’m forever grateful to Hut 2 and the volunteers that manned it that night so I was pleased to hear its had some new cladding and should be in good shape for the brave Spine Racers that stop at it in January.

Hut 2 – or more officially, Auchope

I came down to here in the dark and for at least some of the descent, under supervision on the Spine – so it was a bit daunting to look up at he climb to the ridge to the Cheviot. However I did it the only way I really know how, disengage brain, engage grim determination and plough on. I must have been quite good as I was congratulated by a South African runner from Quebec (I think that’s the right way round) on my climbing prowess! I do seem to be OK at climbs these days, I can only assume it’s as a result of the time I’ve spent going up mountains and volcanoes in Fuerteventura – I’m not sure living in Essex has helped.

Once you are on the ridge it is a very boring trudge of about a mile and a quarter to the top of the Cheviot. I totally understand why the Cheviot Goat Race has to go to the top of the Cheviot but for anyone else, really don’t bother. It isn’t really a summit, just a vague rise in the ground with fairly dull bit of concrete to mark what is (probably) the highest bit. If I had a Top 10 list of things not to bother with, the Cheviot would probably be number one on it.

The ridge to the Cheviot illuminated by the setting sun with a light dusting of snow
The inevitable summit selfie – not a very good one but then there wasn’t much to see up there

However it wasn’t all bad as I was soon joined by Michelle. She confessed she was a little nervous about going into the night on her own so I said I would run with her as we appeared to be similar paces at that point and so we set off together to the point we turned off the Pennine Way and down through the rocks by Scotsman’s Knowe. This had been hard enough in March and with a covering of snow and fading light it was even trickier this time. However we both got down and I confidently pointed us along the fence line and away. It was less boggy that I remembered and more downhill and more easy to run…. and I was going the wrong way… I’d missed a turn and ignored my watch. We could have retraced our steps but it was more fun to set out cross-country through the vegetation until we regained the correct path. I did apologise profusely but as I said earlier Michelle just has a wonderfully positive attitude and took being taken off in the wrong direction by someone claiming to know the way as all part of the adventure. Eventually we came to the next set of Mountain Rescue people at a gate in the fence we had been following. In March we had been told to go through the gate and follow the other side of the fence – tonight it was our choice! Initially I decided we should stay on the same side but after a short distance it became clear that the ‘March route’ on the other side was better (just) so we climbed the fence and went that way. After conquering Bloodybush Edge and Cushat Law, we descended to checkpoint two at High Bleakhope.

It was here I made a bit of an error and didn’t charge my watch again as it appeared to have over 50% charge and so I thought it would be enough… I did take the opportunity to stock up on Jaffa Cakes, Coke and coffee, as well as refill one of my bottles and so I thought I was well placed for the final 16 or so miles of the Cheviot goat.

By now I was in front of Michelle but kept looking back to make sure I could see her headtorch – so it was a bit of a shock when someone completely different passed me and there were no lights behind me. However I slowed down for a bit and Michelle soon caught back up with me and we carried on loosely together. However I was getting to the stage where I was starting to live in my own little world of survival, tripping and slipping and tripping far more often than I wanted until I got my right foot stuck in a bog and a lot of water up my arms and legs. I got my foot out but was now quite cold so I had to get moving to warm up. I felt very guilty about abandoning Michelle after I had said I would stick with her but unfortunately I only just about had enough survival skills to keep me going. I tried to wait a couple of times but I just got cold so I had to keep going. I have contacted Michelle since we finished and she doesn’t hold it against me at all (told you she was a very positive person) and found some others to buddy up with for the last few miles. She also finished with a sprained ankle and dislocated shoulder as she too fell several times – with that sort of determination I’m sure she will complete the Spine Challenger in January.

Apart from bogs, I was tripped up several times by what I decided to call ‘air bogs’, holes under the heather which would cause ones foot to go down some distance below where one expected the ground to be. Between Comb Fell and Hedgehope Hill there was a decent layer of snow on the ground and some of my navigation consisted of simply following the footprints of a couple of runners I thought were about 15 minutes ahead of me. I was OK but looking forward to getting down from Hedgehope Hill and over Dunmoor Hill as it was downhill from there and I would leave the snow behind. At the top of Hedgehope Hill I was greeted by another Mountain Rescue Team. I should say at this point that these guys are amazing, they give their time and put themselves in danger just to provide a safety service for people that want to go and play in the mountains. Every single one of them was just so positive and friendly it really helped. I had them all marked on my course on my watch and it was real boost to know another dose of positivity and encouragement was coming up. As I approached the crew at Hedgehope Hill they remarked my torch was bright enough but was I? On reflection that may have been a polite way of asking me to stop shining it in their eyes. My answer to there question was no, of course I wasn’t very bright or I’d never have signed up to the race! This seemed to amuse them and after making sure I was eating (I lied) they wished me well and sent me on my way. After picking my way through Cunyan Crags it was downhill all the way with only a small interlude to find the gate in the barbed wire fence to follow the track to the road. At this point I was with Jane and Sarah and we jogged down the road to the final marshal point and the humorous part of the Cheviot Goat course. A short jog of just over a mile down the road would see you at the finish – so of course we have to turn off around Brough Law and Ewe Hill for a few more metres of climb and a few more miles of fun. I think we may have made Brough Law harder than necessary but it was dark and we were trying to stay on the GPS path. Anyway the path turned abruptly left and up, it was the final climb so for the last time I switched my brain off and started to climb leaving Jane and Sarah together behind me. With a mile and a quarter to go my watch announced it had had enough and was switching off – I should have recharged it at Checkpoint Two. Fortunately my handheld Garmin was still going. This was very fortunate as the on/off switch had broken and had I had to change the batteries I wouldn’t have been able to switch it on and would have been left with only the map – if I had got lost a mile from the end I would never heard the last of it.

Anyway I got back on the road and soon saw the arrows helpfully pointing me to Ingram Cafe and the finish! I finished in 21 hours 45 minutes and 36 seconds, just inside the 22 hours I predicted. I was extremely pleased with that as had I known what he conditions were going to be like I would have predicted something more like the full 24 hours.

Jogging to the finish!

The reason I put myself through this was to see if I would still fancy the Winter Spine after it. So do I, or does this blog end here? The answer is a qualified yes, I do still want to do it. I think it will be colder and tougher in January 2024 than it was in December 2022 as its likely more snow will have fallen and it will be colder (unless Global Warming really kicks in by then). I also still have a lot to learn and practise with regards to looking after myself properly. However I finished it, I never needed anything more than kind words and banter from the Mountain Rescue Teams and I did quite a bit of it alone, which I suspect is how I will be by the end of the Spine as most people will have finished by the time I get to the Cheviots. So, for now anyway, the only way is still Pennine!

SVP100 – Or, More Accurately, DNF80

This isn’t a race report. The SVP100 is a great race and elsewhere in this blog you will find a report on last year’s race. Sadly this year was a DNF and so this is more of an inquest and a self-indulgent ramble, I suggest you stop reading now…

You have been warned, please don’t comment that reading this will consume a part of your life you will never get back. That said, here we go…

So I DNF’d the 2022 SVP100 after 50 miles at CP5. Realistically I was out of the race about 8 miles previously at CP4 but after the valiant efforts of Ian Brazier followed by the checkpoint volunteers to keep me going, I carried on towards CP5. After about a mile I knew I wasn’t going to make it inside the cut-off so I resigned myself to hiking another 7 miles to get timed out. I have to apologise to the sweepers who picked me up about a mile from CP5 and had to put up with my incoherent rambling until they could hand me over to the CP volunteers and a mini-bus to the finish.

No matter how bad it gets there is always time for a phone box

So what happened? I told you in the last paragraph, I Did Not Finish (DNF). Why, what caused the DNF? I did, it was entirely my fault. Those that follow this blog and know how hot it was on Saturday might be kind and say ‘You haven’t fully recovered from the Spine Race’, ‘You had Covid after that’, ‘Lakeland 100 was only two weeks ago, you definitely haven’t recovered from that’, and finally ‘It was over thirty degrees for much of the day’. All of these things are true but the point is, I knew all that before I started. If I had been smart I would have accepted that all those things put together made it very unlikely I would finish and simply not started. I did start and so therefore it was my fault I Did Not Finish.

Not an excuse but it was hot enough to leave footprints in the tar of the road surface! (photo courtesy of Tom Stevens)

So why did I start? Hubris really. I’d finished seven consecutive SVP100 races up to this year and decided to try for number eight.  In my defence I do have a lot of experience of hot weather running so, whilst I knew it would make it tough, I didn’t feel I was likely to be a danger to myself. If I did have a problem, the SVP100 isn’t so remote that I would be placing anyone else in unnecessary danger should I have required help on the course. As it was I didn’t finish with a bang but very much with an anti-climactic whimper, 40 minutes past cut-off at CP5.

Do I regret starting? Yes and no. It’s never great to have DNF next to your name but on the other hand if we only ever started that which we knew we could finish how would we grow and find our limits? It’s also good to get a reality check, despite what some people suggest sometimes, I am only (very) human and I can only ask so much of myself. The human body is a bit like your bank account – you can only take so much out of it. The Spine Race withdrew pretty much all of the account, just enough went in to pay for Lakeland 100 but then SVP100 was left writing cheques that couldn’t be cashed and finally the overdraft was called in, in a very decisive fashion. I had little energy and when I did try and run my calf muscles just threatened to cramp up and stop me completely so I had to resign myself to a long walk of shame.

For those that decided not to read all the above, one of the sweepers summed me up perfectly. I explained my year to date to which he replied ’Well you’re a complete Numpty then’. Why did I DNF? Because I’m a numpty – that’s the most honest answer I can give.

So where now? Obviously after such a dismal failure I will never dare to show my face at a race again. I may go and do a distant parkrun under an assumed name where no one will recognise me but that’s it. No, not really, it’s business as usual just with a bit more recovery. Every race is a learning experience and I still have a huge amount to learn if I am to toe the line at the 2024 Winter Spine Race. I doubt heat exhaustion will be my biggest worry but a timely reminder of my limitations is always good. It wasn’t quite the outcome I’d hoped for but the journey continues and the only way is still very much Pennine!

Lakeland 100 2022 – Lean on Me

I wasn’t really expecting to be writing this blog post – some of you may wish I wasn’t but if so, why are you reading it? Anyway as I am, I will, so let’s get on with it…

Before I finished the Summer Spine Race, I assumed I would write my race report and that would be the end of this blog – however the Spine doesn’t make it easy to turn your back on it (I’m sure there is a Spine/back pun in there somewhere but fortunately I can’t find it). Next summer is very much still going to be Pennine as Sharon and I will be running the Summer Spine Sprint together. Even after then there will be more Spine action as I intend to give the 2024 Winter Spine a go. However even allowing for that, I wasn’t sure that the Lakeland 100 was part of my Spine preparation but I was to discover that every race can provide valuable lessons for future races…

I’m not entirely sure why I entered the 2022 Lakeland 100. I knew it was quite close to the Spine Race (a fact I’m not sure I fully appreciated last year), and whilst it is a great event, it’s quite a long way from Essex and Lake District accommodation is not exactly cheap. Camping is an option but I don’t think Sharon would be quite so happy about driving me up and down the country if I suggested she could spend two nights in a tent! Anyway the reason was irrelevant, I had entered, I’d booked some accommodation and we were in the Lake District!

The Lakeland races have more of a festival than a racing feel to them. This was particularly true this year as the theme was ‘Make Legends not War’ and the race village had been named ‘Conistock’. Last year I booked accommodation which was quite close to Coniston as the crow files – because a crow can fly over Lake Windermere. A car can’t and so getting to and from Coniston was a bit of a trek. This year I had booked a very friendly B&B only 5 miles (no crows needed) from Coniston. As a result I hadn’t bothered to bring a tent as I could stay at the B&B until Friday afternoon and the come to Conistock to register and go into Coniston to eat.

Not really smiling

The race briefing basically consists of Marc (Race Director) doing a bit of stand-up comedy and ‘Uncle Terry’ (Marc’s Uncle?) doing the serious race briefing bit. In previous years much has been made of the fact that on average 50% of the people that start don’t make it to the finish. This year Marc asked (told) us to all support each other and try and beat the record for the highest percentage of finishers (64%).

After the briefing we had about an hour to mill around aimlessly and use the facilities, and then it was down to the start for Nessun Dorma, the official song of the Lakeland 100. It’s quite appropriate as I certainly wouldn’t be sleeping for the next two nights.

Someone that looks just like me but almost smiling

According to the barman in The Crown, the population of Coniston in the winter is 900. I would guess it’s at least 5 times that on the Lakeland weekend. Certainly the atmosphere at the start as we ran through Coniston was more like that of the London Marathon than a 100 mile trail race. However the slight downside was a bit of a bottleneck once we had left the roads of Coniston and started on the trails, one gate about a mile in created a particular hold-up. As I had no plans to race I wasn’t worried, anyway there was another 104 miles in which to make up any time lost.

Happy runners at the top of the first climb
The phone box at Boot – I had to have a picture of at least one!

There are some reasonable climbs on the first couple of legs but it was still light when I got to CP2 (more or less) at Boot and Boot to Wasdale Head is a fairly short leg with quite a small amount of climb by Lake District standards. However…

After Wasdale Head came one of the bits I wasn’t looking forward to – Black Sail Pass. My memory of this from last year was of being able to just about hold my own on the ascent but then being left as a blubbering mass of jelly by my fellow runners when it came to the descent. 12 months later and things seemed to have improved. In the last year I’ve done quite a bit of upping and downing both in the UK and Fuerteventura and, whilst I was nowhere near the quickest, I wasn’t the slowest person on the descents. I also remember finding some of the section from Buttermere to Braithwaite tough as well (CP4 to CP5) but this year it didn’t seem quite as hard. This was despite the fact it had been raining for some time by now and the rocks were very slippery. I had a couple of falls, nothing serious but enough to make me very cautious. Thank you to the runner that stopped and picked me up after a slippery bit of rock left me falling heavily onto my back.

All the checkpoints are good but CP5 has rice pudding, it was the end of the first night and the first 3 miles out of Braithwaite are very flat and runnable so all is good. When the route does inevitably start to climb again it’s a fairly straightforward climb. There id as virtual checkpoint to make sure we don’t cut a corner but after two goes at Lakeland 100 I’ve still not seen the turn to cut the corner and so have never been tempted, regardless of the virtual CP.

After CP6 at Blencathra we have the delights of the universally hated Old Coach Road. To be honest I still dislike the Cam High Road on the Pennine way more as the Old Coach Road is shorter, climbs less and has  a few more bends (it clearly wasn’t laid out by the Romans). That said, no one in their right mind would try and take an Old Coach along it so the need for an Old Coach Road is questionable. I jogged slowly along it and eventually reached CP7 at Dockray – except it isn’t really, the sign for Dockray is about half a mile after the checkpoint. I guess ‘CP7 – Marquee in the middle of nowhere’ isn’t a very useful description of a checkpoint, even if it’s more accurate than ‘CP7 – Dockray’.

Somewhere between (not) Dockray and Dalemain I started running with Mark Baines. Mark was a very entertaining chap and as it was by now getting quite hot and my feet were getting sore the distraction was welcome. The last mile or so into Dalemain is a bit of a trudge and I think we were both in our own little worlds of foot discomfort by that point and so we lost touch as we approached the checkpoint (also I stopped for a tactical toilet visit).

At Dalemain my first necessity was to get my shoes and socks off and have a look at my feet – they didn’t look great, more prune than foot really, and a couple of large blisters. I left my feet exposed and concentrated on the other essential tasks, changing my head torch battery and getting some food and drink. I didn’t bother to change the batteries in my hand held GPS as I’d only taken it out of my pocket once and unfortunately dropped it and cracked the glass. It still worked fine but my watch was providing all the navigation I needed. That makes it sound like a conscious decision, if I’m honest as I hadn’t been using it I just forgot about it, anyway, wouldn’t be a problem, would it?…

My feet actually looked a lot better for 15 minutes exposure to air and so I taped them up and put on clean socks. I had wondered if waterproof socks would be necessary given that the Spine Race had been quite dry underfoot. However this is the Lake district and much wet ground had been covered already and I still had Bleamoss to negotiate.

It didn’t rain all the time

Dalemain to Howtown is quite straightforward but then we come to a section enjoyed by most as much as the Old Coach Road – the climb up Fusedale. However, once again, I hated this less than most people, in fact I would say it was my best section of the race. As I’ve mentioned many times, I’m not very good on technical stuff. The Fusedale climb is more of a slog up grass and mud and so much more in my comfort zone. I just gritted my teeth, found my rhythm and powered up, overtaking close on a dozen people on the way I would think. The down section was OK too but then it goes into a path lined with bracken alongside Haweswater Reservoir. The issue with this is that it becomes quite hard to see the path – and it has lots of trip hazards. Fortunately I negotiated it all without incident and arrived at Mardale Head. Last year Mardale Head was a bit depleted by the time I go to it owing to very hot weather. This year had much more of a wet vibe to it, although it had still been hot in the afternoon. Anyway, even better than a decent selection of drinks was the fact that my friend Megan was at the checkpoint. We had a bit of a chat about all things running and I’m hoping she is going to tell me how to not die on the Cheviot Goat (currently dying is the odds-on favourite for my result if I do that race).

Last year this was where I met Mary. This year I was entirely on my own slogging up Gatescarth Pass. It was getting dark, had started to rain and basically all I could see was my feet and the occasional fleeting glimpse of a never ending supply of up. Eventually the path got bored with up and started to go down at an angle that wasn’t any more pleasant than up. I was now getting a little worried about cut off times, unfortunately the marshal at Kentmere agreed that I was a bit close and so I left checkpoint 11 in a slightly stressed state, trying to keep the best pace I could.

The Garburn Pass is like the Gatescarth Pass only slightly better but the climb out of Troutbeck began to really annoy me. Ambleside is at the top of Lake Windermere and so one of the lower points on the route. An apparently never ending up seemed entirely unnecessary as it would have to have some corresponding down. As you might realise my mind wasn’t working too rationally at this point! Then as I approached Skelghyll Wood my head torch gave that characteristic pattern of flashes which is Petzl for ‘I’m going to switch off soon’. I ignored it. Then it gave the pattern of flashes which means ‘I’m going to go into a low power mode which, against all logic, makes it harder to see than if I’d just switched off completely’. I was beginning to think I wasn’t meant to finish Lakeland 100 2022!

A short interlude to consider my mental state and how my mind works. At the beginning of the race, I was wondering how far I needed to get before I could gracefully bow out. After all, I’d had Covid a few weeks before, I’d done the Spine Race, no one would criticise me for not finish LL100 would they? Move forward several hours and I’m now in a position where a DNF may not be my choice, suddenly it becomes absolutely imperative that I finish! I’m fairly sure I would never DNF a race that I could still carry on with. I ‘voluntarily’ DNFed on Summer Spine 2021 but realistically I was never going to finish the race at that point anyway, I was far too damaged and slow. I may have thought about it but basically the answer to ‘where can I bow out gracefully?’ is, for me, at the finish.

Anyway we left me with a failed head torch. This was particularly annoying as the same torch on the same settings had lasted all the first night no problem. I’d put a fully charged battery into the torch at Dalemain so why had it died? It is possible that the rain had got into the bag the spare battery was in and discharged it, or one of my batteries may not be as good as the other, I don’t know, but I do need to find out. From out of nowhere as far as I could tell, an angel appeared – whose name I now know to be Jackie Shore. She was running the LL50 and kindly put up with my cursing and grumpiness and provided light for me to find my back-up torch with. Which didn’t work. Cue more cursing and grumpiness while I changed the batteries. Now I’m at home and have checked the batteries I assumed had died, they seem to be OK. The torch has two switches, one for on/off and one for beam setting, did I press the wrong switch and not realise? Had I put one of the batteries in backwards? I don’t know but with Jackie’s help I sorted my torch and stomped off down the trail, convinced that someone up there hated me.

As I came into Ambleside I passed another group of runners who helpfully told me to turn right. I got the junction and stopped. They caught up with me and assured me right was right. I didn’t disbelieve them, it was just by now taking me some time to decide which direction was right. One very stressed runner finally arrived at the Ambleside checkpoint and told the world he wasn’t happy, he was probably going to get timed out and God hated him. A couple of volunteers calmly assured me that none of this was true and that I should go inside and haver a hot drink. Once inside I told another volunteer God hated me and I was going to get timed out. He looked at me in slightly stunned disbelief and informed me that if I could average 2 miles an hour I would finish inside cut-off and had time for an hours sleep if I wanted – he also pointed out that I was surprisingly dry considering it was raining which possibly indicated God didn’t hate me – or that I appeared sufficiently annoyed that the rain didn’t dare land on me. I had some soup, didn’t have a sleep but left the checkpoint feeling much calmer than when I had arrived.

A small group of LL100 runners caught me up on the way to Chapel Stile. I more or less managed to hang on to them until the checkpoint, although it was clear that they were faster than me. At the checkpoint I had another nice surprise of a volunteer nature, Raj Mahapatra. I met Raj on the Spine Race when he arrived at CP1.5 and was eminently more suitable than me to buddy up with Sabrina, whom I’d walked with from Malaham Cove to Malaham Tarn when she was having hydration issues. He was his usual friendly positive self and supplied me with food and liquids before I left the checkpoint. I left before the group I’d come in with as I knew they were quicker than me so I wouldn’t be able to keep up with them and I felt if I waited for them and left with them they might feel compelled to stay with me, which wouldn’t be right for them, so I left and as I expected they passed me less than two miles out of the checkpoint.

The first point of real note after the checkpoint is the Chapel Stile Stile. This thing is so big I assume the village was named after it. For those that have never attempted to conquer it, it’s one of those ‘ladder’ type stiles over a dry stone wall – but built for people who are at least eight feet tall. I managed to haul myself onto the bottom step, which meant I could then reach the top, drag myself over and slide/fall down the other side.

I must have been having a really good conversation with Mary at this point last year as I didn’t recognise any of it! I just followed the route on my watch through various twists and turns and wet bits. Eventually I arrived at Blea Moss, much further from Chapel Stile than I had thought. There is a virtual checkpoint after you leave Blea Moss to ensure you don’t cut across the bog. Last year the path was dry but this year it was a bog, possibly not as much of a bog as the bog we weren’t allowed to cross but a bog nonetheless. I used my waterproof socks to just wade through as fast as possible and get onto the road.

Now I was onto a section I recognised – which was just as well as my watch decided its battery was flat and it was going to save my run and shut down. Phone was dead, handheld GPS was dead, watch is now dead. I could put new batteries in the handheld but I really should have done that before at Dalemain. As a last resort I had the ‘Foldie’, a written route description. As a last last resort I had a map and compass – however whilst I had time, I didn’t have that much time. As it was by following people and a vague memory of the previous year, I got to Tilberthwaite without incident.

Although the last leg is only 3.5 miles, it does have some quite decent and fairly technical climbs, followed eventually by some reasonably technical descent. As I had found on other parts of the course, I was better this year – and I did stick my bum out as Mary had told me to do last year. Once I was down I started running as it hurt my feet less. I say running, possibly lurching would be more accurate, yes, on the last leg the lean had returned! I ran through Consiton to much cheering and crossed the line, smiling for once, with over an hour to spare!

Smiling!
The lean is back!

So this has turned into a very long report given I wasn’t planning on writing it at all. Am I happy with my performance? I was a couple of minutes slower than last year, which I wasn’t expecting, but the weather was much worse so maybe I did better than I thought. I finished anyway, 39% of those that started didn’t.

A definite lean and not much of a smile but I got my medal

What did I learn? Don’t cut corners and don’t take anything electronic for granted. I should have replaced the batteries in the handheld GPS at Dalemain as I intended, even if I wasn’t using it. I should have checked out the life of both the batteries for my head torch and waterproofed the spare better. I don’t know what he problem was with my back-up torch but I can’t remember if I tested it before I packed it, also I should have become totally familiar with its switches before packing it.

As I said (and you’ve probably noticed) this report is quite long and that is without mentioning the fabulous fancy dress at the checkpoints. There seems to be a pattern in that I hate this race at the beginning and end up loving it by the end. As I said at the beginning, next summer I’m running the Spine Sprint (46 miles) with Sharon and I’m hoping to do full Winter Spine in 2024, so I will probably be back to LL100 next year as part of my training for that, Despite my successful Summer Spine finish it would seem that he only way is still Pennine!