What do we get up to!

Spine Challenger Top Tips

Clare BLOG, Lifestyle, Running, Spine Race, Uncategorised, What do we get up to! MRT Challenge, peak district, Pennine Way, Running, Spine Challenger, Spine Race, Top Tips, trail running, Ultra marathon, Yorkshire Dales

The Spine Race, Spine Challenger and Spine MRT Challenge is a winter adventure along the Pennine Way. The conditions are usually wild. It’s often windy, snowy or rainy, sometimes all three! What’s more with it being set in winter the nights are long and the daylight hours are short. There’s a high level of attrition with often over 50% of the field retiring along the way. To get to the end requires good preparation and self-management skills. Having completed the Spine Challenger previously, getting to 200 miles on the Spine Race a few years ago and finishing the MRT Challenge, I thought I’d share a few Spine top tips that helped me to reach the finish line of the MRT Challenge this year.

1. Develop strategies to cope with mental fatigue

The mental challenge is probably as tough or perhaps even tougher than the physical challenge. There are sections of the event that can seem to drag on and take forever. Or maybe you’ve been on your own for hours on end. It’s during these long unforgiving sections that you can start to think negative thoughts. It’s important to have a strategy to be able to cope. I usually give my tracker a name. This time his name was Bob. He’s that silent, strong friend who’s looking out for you!

Focus on breaking the event down into manageable chunks rather than the journey as a whole. Getting to the next checkpoint or looking forward to the next stop and having something delicious to eat. Splitting it into sections helps to maintain the motivation and having something yummy to eat is something to look forward to!

Focus on positive thoughts. Think how happy you’ll be when you get to the next stop. Have a mantra or a phrase you can repeat to yourself to keep focused and motivated. Take in all the views around you, when it’s daylight anyway, and enjoy your surroundings.

2. Stay warm and dry

This will help mentally too if you are battling the elements and can stay warm. Getting cold may develop into a negative spiral. I had three layering system of headgear, which worked a treat. I started off with no hat, but I pulled my hood up over Kinder when the weather got gnarly. This progressed to wearing a thin beanie under the hood. When the conditions got really wild, my pièce de resistànce, was a fleecy balaclava. It cocooned my head and neck like a warm, snuggly comfort blanket, and covered the gap between my buff and hat. In the worst rain and wind, I pulled the hood tight on my waterproof jacket to protect my face from the elements, which felt reassuring warm.

I like to be prepared so carry an extra layer. I’m nesh and feel the cold easily. I wore a base-layer and lightweight fleece pullover under my waterproof jacket and although I was warm going up Jacob’s Ladder on Kinder, was happy that I did later on. I carried with me two extra layers, a Rab Primaloft jacket and an Inov-8 primaloft smock. Primaloft is ideal as it’s inevitable there’ll be some seepage from the rain, so it retains its thermal capability when wet.

The bad weather often catches people out and causes many runners to retire. If you know you’re a middle-of-the-pack racer and won’t be travelling that fast, it’s worth taking an extra layer as it may make all the difference between finishing or not.

A lightweight waterproof just won’t cut the mustard on a race like the Spine unless you’re one of the front runners. A slightly thicker waterproof will have better thermal capacity and is more robust. This time I wore my Mountain Equipment Kongur MRT Goretex jacket, which is standard team issue. It’s a sturdy, heavier weight jacket and was a perfect choice as I didn’t do that much running so didn’t get too hot, and I did say I felt the cold!

At the Snake Pass

3. Protect your feet.

There’s a lot of gritstone and usually mud along the Pennine Way. The combination is lethal as when the mud gets into your shoes it becomes very abrasive with the gritstone particles and can destroy your feet.

To protect my feet, I wore Inov-8 Roclite Goretex boots to help keep any water out and chose to wear a full length walking gaitor over the top to keep the mud and other bits out. Over the top of my gaiters, I wore my waterproof over-trousers from Wessenden. I pulled these tight around the ankles to give another layer of protection.

The combination worked well for me. My toes were kept warm by the Goretex boots and although my feet still got wet, which I was expecting, the gaiters kept the mud away from my socks. I changed my socks twice, smothering my feet with Vaseline at the beginning and at the checkpoint at Hebden Hay. Thankfully, I didn’t get any blisters.

4. Have access to a hot drink

I bought a last minute purchase of a small clip flask from Alpkit. It was that last minute, I bought it on my way to registration! This proved invaluable as I could carry around a hot drink. I didn’t need to risk the chill of drinking cold water and it therefore helped me to stay hydrated. It slotted into the side pocket of my rucksack easily so I could grab it really quickly. I found that hot water worked the best in the end rather than tea.

Alpkit Clip Flask

5. Keep a supply of plastic bags and use dry bags.

Your kit will inevitably get wet when the weather turns wild. It’s worth carrying a couple of spare zip lock bags. This will keep any wet kit you’re carrying away from your dry kit you may have in your rucksack. Extra plastic bin liners and carrier bags are useful in your drop bag too.

I stowed away my sleeping bag inside my bivi bag, which was then inside the sleeping bag stuff sack. To ensure it was kept dry, I stashed it inside a small dry bag. I then packed it inside a larger heavier weight dry bag that lined the whole of my rucksack for double protection. My spare, dry clothes were also placed inside a second dry bag. This kept everything dry that needed to be as the rain did slightly penetrate the large dry bag, but not the second.

6. Recce bits

Having done the Challenger previously I was quite familiar with the route. However, I did still struggle in the dark and bad weather conditions to find the path that led down to the M62 bridge. What’s obvious in the day light sometimes is just not obvious in the dark!

If time is short before the race, it is worthwhile being selective and identifying what are considered the trickiest sections and would be most beneficial to recce. Try to work out where you’re likely to be when it’s dark, although that may be easier said than done! The best bits of the route are not necessarily the most difficult to navigate, I find it’s generally the field sections that are the most confusing as you can’t see where the next stile or gate is when it’s dark or claggy.

My recommendations would be as follows. However, others may recommend different bits:

The section from Charlestown just outside Hebden Bridge to just before Slack where you leave the Pennine Way to reach checkpoint 1. This is when you’re likely to be tired as you’re approaching the CP. It will be dark by this point too. The section initially winds its way steeply up narrow, cobbled alleyways where you could mistakenly think you’re trespassing in someone’s garden.
From Cowling over the fields to Lothersdale
From Thornton-in-Craven, over more fields, along the canal and crossing more fields before reaching the village of Gargrave.

Thank you to everyone for reading.

I raised funds for Buxton Mountain Rescue Team as part of the MRT Challenge.

If you wish to read my blog click here to read.

Spine Race: MRT Challenge

Clare BLOG, Lifestyle, Running, Spine Race, What do we get up to! #adventureseeker, #adventurethatislife, Buxton Mountain Rescue Team, Challenge, fundraising, Mountain Rescue, MRT Challenge, peak district, Pennine Way, Running, Spine Race, trail running, Winter, Yorkshire Dales

The MRT Challenge is part of the Spine Race series and is specifically for mountain rescue team members. Starting in Edale, the challenge is to head north along the Pennine Way for 108 miles finishing in Hawes!

But why?

The Pennine Way provides the opportunity to journey along the backbone of England. Much of the time is spent in remote upland and rugged, wild landscapes. The Spine Race is like no other race. An expedition almost. It’s evocative and provides a great challenge. It’s all about being able to push the limit both mentally and physically covering the difficult terrain under the gnarliest of conditions. There’s shorter daylight hours too with it being in winter and a time limit of 60 hours to get to the finish… so why not?

I was nervous before the start. Questions were buzzing around in my head. Had my training been enough? Will I be able to cope with the lack of sleep…with the cold…with the rain? I’d been here before…It doesn’t get any easier… I knew how tough it was going to be, but do you know what?…that made it even worse!

The start

So…an hour after the start of the main Spine Challenger race, 9am signalled the start of the MRT challenge. We were off! This year, there were six of us ladies in the MRT challenge along with the gents. Would we all make it to the end?

Heading up Jacob’s Ladder and onto Kinder Scout felt quite warm initially. The wind picked up though when crossing the peaty, rocky plateau so much so, I was buffeted from side-to-side at Kinder Downfall, which was famously blowing upwards. I got a face-full of spray as I jumped over the rocks and the wind whipped the hood on my jacket straight off the back of my head!

: Arriving at the Snake Pass

: At the Snake Pass

A quick stop at the Snake Pass and on over Bleaklow. Glossop Mountain Rescue Team had set up a temporary shelter with refreshments at Torside. It was lovely to see my friend, Laura, who had come out to meet me. There were also members of my own team, Buxton, cheering me along. Mel got me a welcome cup of tea and a biscuit, but I didn’t want to outstay my welcome and was soon on my way again.

: Great to see Laura at Torside

: Lovely cup of tea

The next road crossing was at Wessenden where the light was fading rapidly. A quick check in with the safety team and I was on my way again. Then…the rain started! Heading down the valley, I stopped against a rock to pull on my over-trousers. Continuing on down the uneven track in near darkness. I like to let my eyes adjust naturally so keep my head torch off for as long as possible. The only thing was as I got to the left-hand turn where the path leaves the track, I couldn’t see to find my head torch! I thought I’d put it in my left-hand waist pocket…no! What about the right-hand? …no! Front pouch? …no! I’m sure I remember putting it in here somewhere! After a little digging around, there it was in my left-hand pocket after all!

Heading over Marsden Moor I caught up with another competitor, Anne. The weather had taken a turn for the worse. The rain was hammering down on the hood of my jacket. It was a cold, dark, windy night with limited visibility as the clouds swirled all around us as we crossed the exposed moorland. We walked almost in silence only the occasional word spoken, it was difficult to hear anyway. I was just glad of the companionship.

At Brunscough Reservoir car park, I was relieved to see that Oldham Mountain Rescue Team had set up a temporary shelter. It felt good to get out of the rain momentarily. I got a warm drink, ate some cold pizza that I’d bought with me, added an extra layer under my waterproof jacket and whipped out of my rucksack the pièce de résistance, a fleecy balaclava my mum had bought me for Christmas a few years back.

I was snugly tucked away under the balaclava in the mighty hood of my waterproof jacket in my own little headtorch bubble. Occasionally Anne and myself would confirm with each other we were heading in the right direction, but mostly we kept our heads down as we marched over Standedge, White Hill and towards the M62 crossing. A quick check-in with the safety team and we confidently strode off only to find a few minutes later, we couldn’t find the path. I never remembered it being this difficult to find before. It felt like a long time going around in circles in the awful, murky conditions before we eventually retraced our steps and realised we’d missed the slight right-hand fork off the main track that led onto a minor path where we could see the bright orange glow of the lights on the M62 beckoning us on.

Another refreshment stop was provided by Pendle and Rossendale Mountain Rescue Team in the car park of the White House pub. The weather at this point was particularly horrendous, so it was good to escape the wind and the rain, and to add yet another layer under my waterproof jacket.

Off we headed along the surfaced track over Chelburn Moor alongside a series of reservoirs, occasionally taking a swift glance to the left towards the hazy, orange glow of the Greater Manchester conurbation. Eventually, we arrived at the top of Stoodley Pike with its imposing monument that always feels quite eerie in the dark!

Upon arrival at Checkpoint 1 at Hebden Hay, it was time for a complete change out of my drenched clothes into lovely clean, dry ones before I headed into the dining room. Anne and I had agreed to meet up afterwards so we could head back out together. In the meantime, the dining room was warm and cosy so I decided to catch a 15 minute nap and rested my head in my arms.

A touch of glamour! My sparkly, checkpoint footwear!

It was still raining when we headed back out and the underfoot conditions were treacherously muddy. We got lost in the undergrowth trying to locate the narrow path that led steeply upwards. It felt like I was almost on my hands and knees trying to clamber up the slippery, vegetated slope before gaining the road to rejoin the Pennine Way.

As daylight arrived, the rain began to ease off although I felt a little cold ascending up to Top Withans. I opened the door to the bothy where my mate, Drew was sheltering with a fellow competitor. There was also a group of other walkers in there so it was rather cozy. I added another layer and had a bite to eat before we headed back out.

The Spine Race organisers craftily snook a long diversion around the roads to reach Cowling. It was good to see Darren, who had briefly stopped to give his support. The fields approaching Lothersdale were like a mud bath, incredibly slippy. Outside the village pub, there was another rest stop in a gazebo organised by a local running club. I couldn’t fault the service and the broccoli and stilton soup was delicious too!

Caroline grabs a selfie with Anne and me as we leave Lothersdale

On the approach to Gargrave it got dark again. When we arrived in the village, the landlord of the local pub invited us in to use the facilities. I wasn’t going to turn down the chance to use a proper toilet so a quick visit ensued. Next stop was a visit to the infamous Coop store in the village. Who ate all the pies?! Disappointingly, the shop was bereft of hot pies so I had to settle for a bag of crisps instead!

Crossing the fields to Malham felt a bit tedious and repetitive. I was falling asleep on my feet. A weird sensation with my head literally nodding-off as I walked. I could see two head torches in the distance. It was my fellow BMRT team member, Kerry and her husband, Mike providing moral support. A welcome sight in the middle of the night.

I knew there were public toilets in Malham village and wondered if they would be open. Thankfully, they were and provided great floor space for a 15 minute power nap! Re-energised we almost sprinted to the top of Malham Cove although it didn’t last long!

Checkpoint 1.5 was in the Field Centre just beyond Malham Tarn. On the track leading up to the centre, the lead runner in the Spine Race, John Kelly over took us, and cheered us along as he passed. There was only hot water available which was perfect for my hydrated camping meal. A melee of other runners were around tending their feet, drinking tea and eating a variety of camping meals. A time limit was set on the duration that could be spent here as it was only a small room. We managed to blag some space in a dusty, old storeroom around the back of the building. It was on a cold, hard stone floor, not very luxurious or even comfortable, but again it did the trick for a much needed power-nap.

The ascent of Fountains Fell seemed to take a long time and on the way up I could have sworn I saw a grounded Spitfire in the swirling mist. I shook my head only to realise it was my vivid imagination. The descent felt like it went quite quickly though, maybe because it was now getting light. Although it was still as I remembered it, tricky at times especially with the uneveness of the rocky limestone path that was slippery in places from the heavy rain.

The climb up Pen-y-ghent went quite quickly. Although the scrambly section at the top felt a little awkward as I was carrying my trekking poles and couldn’t be bothered to fold them away! Before long, we were over the summit and heading down the long, rocky track towards the final safety check-in point at Horton-in-Ribblesdale.

Darren was waiting for me at the school as he was the safety co-ordinator at this stopover. I had some soup and faffed about for a bit before leaving to make the final push for the finish. Anne and I agreed to continue separately as she wanted to spend a little bit more time sorting herself out and resting before leaving. I wished her well and then I was gone.

: Getting mic’d up

: The last leg.

The Cam High Road is an old Roman track. It climbs steadily upwards for what seems like an eternity to around the height of 600m. The wind started to pick up at this point as storm Brendon began to roll in. I ducked behind a dry stone wall for some shelter as I needed a drink. I polished off a slice of my mum’s delicious Christmas cake that I’d carried along with me too.

Battling storm Brendon

Just before the left-hand turn along the West Cam Road, I was really getting buffeted and knocked side-ways by the wind. At Ten End, the route leaves the track and descended on a slippy, muddy path towards the village of Hawes. I was really having to brace myself against the wind to maintain my composure. I was digging my trekking poles solidly into the ground to be able to stay upright although I did slip at one point where I managed a comical 360° belly-flop kind-of-roll before getting back onto my feet.

The light began to fade, the rain started to hammer it down even more as the storm became more violent, and by the time I had reached the edge of the village, it was dark. I took a rather convoluted way to get to the finish although I did manage to run a little as I headed down the main street towards the finish at the Market Hall. The claps and cheers from the spectators at the end is something that will live with me forever. Team member, Neil, proudly presented me with my Spine Race medal before I was whisked indoors and out of the awful weather to dry off. Sadly, there were a large number of retirements in the race due to the conditions so I was pleased to be one of the only two ladies who completed the MRT Challenge.

: Neil presenting my medal

: Proudly displaying my Spine Race medal

I’d like to say a big thank you to all the wonderful Spine Race volunteers at the checkpoints or out and about on the course. My thanks also go to my fellow Buxton Mountain Rescue Team members for their support and to the other Mountain Rescue teams for providing additional refreshments, shelter and encouragement en-route. It was greatly appreciated.

If you wish to read my Spine Challenger: Top Tips click here.

: Let’s get this rucksack off you.

: Swollen feet!

I was filmed at various locations en-route and I’d like to say thanks to Luke and his friends from Salford University. They are kindly giving their time to produce a social media live broadcast, which will help to raise publicity and funds for the team. My Spine Race video will feature as part of the broadcast. Follow Buxton Mountain Rescue Team on Facebook, Twitter or Instagram. Further details will be on social media when the broadcast will take place post Covid-19.

My Spine Race MRT Challenge raised funds for Buxton Mountain Rescue Team.

If you would like to donate, please click:

https://www.buxtonmountainrescue.org.uk/support_us/donate

Ascent of Roc D’Enfer

Clare 32 days in HaRVey the camper, What do we get up to! #adventurebound, #adventuring, #Alps, #Chablais, #Feelthealps, #GrandTerche, #Harveythecamper, #HauteSavoie, #LesGets, #lifestyleblogger #lovemountains, #LoveLife, #LoveMorzine, #Morzine, #MorzineAvoriaz, #mountainscape, #mountainscenery, #mountainslovers, #mountainview, #outddors, #outdoor, #outdooradventure, #outdooradventures, #outdoorlife, #RocD'Enfer, #Scrambling, #takemoreadventures, #ValleeD'Aulps. #StJeanD'Aulps, France, hiking, mountains, walking

The Roc D’Enfer is a picturesque peak in the Vallee D’Aulps, near Morzine in Haute Savoie, France. It’s been on my ‘to do’ list for a few years now as we look up to it’s rocky outline each year we go skiing. I can tell you now…it’s not for the faint hearted as you need a good head for heights, but it’s truly well worth the effort for the spectacular views and the challenging position you find yourself in as you cross the knife-edged ridge.

It was a fabulous day for the traverse with cloudless blue skies, summer sun and a gentle breeze. The route was exhilarating to say the least, if not a little bit scary in places with the exposure and huge drops down to the valley below.

The mountain is known as the devil’s horns locally as it has two prominent summits. The highest being the first summit adorned with a silver-painted wooden cross bearing the height. The second summit further along the ridge is marked with a short granite pillar and a cairn. There’s stunning panoramic views across to the Grande Alps looking over to Switzerland and Italy beyond. It’s easy to pick out the snow-covered summits of Mont Blanc, the Grand Montets, Aguille du Midi and many, many more peaks as well as the surrounding deep wooded valleys in a southerly direction. In the opposite direction, the magnificent views down lush-green glaciated valleys leading to the glistening Lake Geneva and over to Lausanne and the Jura Mountains on the other side of the lake.

From the Col D’Encrenaz, the route takes an uphill stony track and passes a few restaurants and traditional pinewood chalets before arriving at a small cheese farm. On leaving the farm, the track continues upwards through pasture before leaving behind all habitation and reaching a col where the path splits in three directions. We left the track and continued uphill through the alpine meadow with cows grazing and the traditional cow bells around their necks producing gentle melodic tones as they moved around. It was now an obvious and slightly eroded footpath as it climbed its way steeply out onto the open mountainside before reaching a narrow stile at Col Ratty at the height of 1905m.

Again, the path split three ways; one direction heading into the beautiful nature reserve and the peaceful neighbouring valley of Graydon, whilst our path continued a high level traverse around the side of the Roc D’Enfer. The path was narrow, rocky and uneven and a warning sign reminded us of the nature of our impending adventure ahead. The cliffs were steep and imposing above as we crossed a rocky scree slope before reaching the window on the rocky ridge. You could feel the exposure now as we looked breathtakingly down over the narrow col towards the Grand Terche ski area a long way below. It was time to catch our breath and anticipate in wonderment the adventure above as the ridge loomed steeply up ahead on our left.

Onwards and upwards, the narrow path climbed the crest of the ridge like a huge dragon’s back. The adrenalin was pumping with the steep drops either side and momentarily, I lost Darren. As I looked up, I found we had taken slightly different paths. He’d stuck to the top of the exposed narrow ridge whereas I had chosen a more technical, rocky scrambly route on the north side of the ridge that was cooler in the shade and reminded me of Jack’s Rake on Pavey Ark. The two routes shortly met up on the crest, where we waited for another couple travelling in the opposite direction to pass.

The path continued along up the green rocky ridge where hands were required on occasions due to the steepness. We arrived at the main summit breathless but happy at a height of 2243m. It wasn’t quite as exposed here so it was the perfect opportunity to take in the picturesque views all around.

Continuing along the ridge the narrow path descended at first and then a rocky scramble led up to the second, slightly lower summit at 2215m. The exposure became more apparent as we glanced down the north-side to a fantastic rocky cirque caused by glacial action thousands of years ago. At the base of the cirque was a small dirty patch of perma-snow that hadn’t melted from last winter. We rested again on the summit for a while and ate a spot of lunch before continuing down and across the crest of the ridge with the crux still to follow.

The next section was fun scrambling out and back over two subsidiary tops; the first hadn’t seen the passage of many feet and required an ‘a cheval’ positioning over the ridge to shuffle along as it was that narrow! A little further beyond was a stark reminder of the exposure, a small memorial cross dedicated to a fallen climber certainly helped to focus the mind. The final mini-summit at the end of the ridge presented a fantastic viewpoint looking back across to where we’d walked earlier in the day. Again, it was topped with a matt-black memorial cross.

The final challenge and probably most tricky section of the day, was the rocky descent, which required a concentrated effort in places to down-climb. The rock was a little brittle and loose in places so care was needed before we finally arrived at a section, where a chain had been provided to act as a handrail over the weather-worn smooth limestone to aid with the descent.

The ridge became more green as the narrow path winded its way through juniper bushes and other low-lying prickly shrubs before a loose, rocky eroded path led trickily down to the Col de Foron. Now that the angle of the path had eased somewhat and we were back in the soft alpine meadow, we started to steadily run the descent. Passing through summer pastures and through grazing cattle to the summer residence of the Chalet Foron. We soon arrived on a stoney track, which meandered down the valley to the small hamlet of Le Foron below and joined a smooth tarmaced road. Darren got his second wind and took off ahead of me at a good pace for the last 2.5km. Me, I ran steadily behind on the gently ascending road back up to our start and end point at the Col D’Encrenaz.

I was happy to be back, but what a fabulous day out we’d had in the mountains 🙂

Leave No Trace

Clare BLOG, Lifestyle, Sustainability, What do we get up to! environment, impact, sustainability

There’s not many courses that you attend where one of the activities is to think of how many different words you can come up with for poo!

I recently attended a Leave No Trace course for the weekend at Trefriw on the edge of Snowdonia in north Wales. The Leave No Trace Centre for Outdoor Ethics defined seven core principles that identify best practice on how to use the great outdoors responsibly and in a sustainable manner and I was here learn more. The course enabled me to the status of a certified Leave No Trace trainer.

The seven principles are:

Plan ahead and prepare
Travel and camp on durable surfaces
Dispose of waste properly
Leave what you find
Minimise campfire impacts
Respect wildlife
Be considerate of other visitors

Over the duration of the weekend, the course was run by knowledgeable and enthusiastic trainers from Life Trek Adventures, Heidi Schwenk and Seb Shingler and was designed to build on our understanding of minimising our impact on the environment.

I’ve been passionate about the environment for a long time now and have gladly noticed how perceptions have started to change over the years. Only 30 years ago, people who took an interest in the environment were often viewed as weird eco-warriers or some kind of tree-hugging hippy for wanting to protect the natural world. For those of us old enough, do you remember Swampy, who became ‘famous’ by taking direct action along with others for tunnelling and tying themselves to trees in the 90s.

But with TV programmes like the Blue Planet, there has been a significant shift in perception and people are starting to take a more considered approach on how they can reduce their impact. We have only got to see what effect this has had, and quite rightly so, on how we can reduce our plastic waste.

So what did the course cover over the weekend? Well litter was one of the areas we discussed and one of our first activities was to identify how long it would take for certain items to degrade. We identified the timescales from organic matter, such as, apple cores and banana skins through to inert materials including plastics and glass. Can you believe certain items, such as, polystyrene can take over a million years to decompose? Makes you think doesn’t it? One of items we often see is apple cores, banana skins or orange peel discarded when out in the outdoors as there’s this perception of ‘it’s ok, it will biodegrade’! Not many people realise that it can take over two years for a banana skin to rot down and in that time, it’s classified as litter. What isn’t there naturally needs to be removed!

So what about when we get caught short in the outdoors? In Leaving No Trace human waste needs to be buried or where that’s not possible, for example, near to water sources it needs to be carried out! Eugh! It’s a subject that’s perceived as embarrassing to talk about but it’s an important message to convey. On our trek to Everest Base Camp in Nepal last year, I occasionally had to jump behind a boulder or bush for a quick wee and it was horrifying to see the amount of toilet paper left behind on the trail. It’s a mess! There’s simple things that we can do to remedy this like carrying some emergency nappy bags in our rucksacks to dispose of toilet paper responsibly.

Sunday, was spent walking up to Lyn Crafnant. We each had to deliver a session on one of the seven principles. After initially looking at how to minimise campfire impacts, where we explored how to set up a fire that left no trace on the ground, we stopped in various locations for my fellow participants to deliver their session.

We explored an old slate mine, with a huge cavernous entrance and had an interesting session discussing the industrial heritage of the area looking at how the landscape had changed over the years with the slate mining, farming and forestry and the impact this had on the community.

Further along, we were encouraged to look at our surroundings from the canopy layer in the trees through to the layer on the ground by our feet. We were entertained looking for shapes, be it trees, leaves or other items that mirrored the lines on the palm of our hands. Ingenious!

As we reached the shore of Lyn Crafnant, the weather brightened up and it was delightfully warm in the sun. Surprisingly, a sea plane landed and took off on the lake, which kept us entertained. Not something you see every day!

The next activity was thought provoking and again got us looking closer at our surroundings to reinforce the message of leave what you find. How many colours could we find from our natural surroundings and yet again poo featured when rabbit droppings were included on the pile! An interesting discussion ensued on how we could relate these natural colours to the names of paint (yes, paint!). And then this was followed by a visual and reflective exercise looking through a frame. We used this to provide a picture frame for the landscape or at close hand to observe features around in an abstract manner.

Wandering further on, it was my turn to present a session. I was covering durable surfaces. Not an easy topic to run a session on you would think. With a little creativity, the group identified what would make a good surface for camping and what would be unsuitable. It’s not always clear cut and interesting discussions took place on when it would be more of a judgment call.

Finally, with the seven principles all explored over the two days, the final exercise was reflective and we identified golden nuggets to take away from the weekend to implement into our own practice. It certainly was a fun, thought provoking weekend with the opportunity to explore our own practice and how we could minimise our impact further on our surroundings.

A cold night on Snowdon!

Darren What do we get up to!

Facebook has just shared a memory of 5 years ago!

The memory was from 2012, the year Britain partied. The Jubilee and the Olympics, we were returning from our second Alpine holiday listening to the 3 golds being won…awesome memories.

I digress.

The memory that popped up was that of Llanberis Mountain Rescue setting off flares in celebration of the Queens Jubilee. I and Clare had decided to spend a few nights in Snowdonia, climbing, running and wild camping near to the summit of Snowdon.

The weekend started great with a few routes ticked off on Little Tryfan. We rearranged our gear and packed the kit for our wild camp, food, tent, waterproofs, hat, gloves, snacks and camera ( iPhone).

After a little last minute faffing on my part, we started to ascend Snowdon. We decide to take the quieter Snowdon Ranger Track from the South West side of the mountain. The is much quieter than the Llanberis, Pyg, Miners tracks. We passed a few navigationally challenged day trippers and helped them in their way.

The weather was super, warm clear skies, slight breeze and far reaching views to the coast and the surrounding mountains.

As we had set off late in the day the summit was very quiet, with a few small groups waiting to celebrate the jubilee.

We pitched our tent on a flattish area of ground about 150 metres below the summit cafe.

What awesome views…. the sun setting behind the island of Anglesey turning the sky pink and as the sun lowered further it cast a shadow of Snowdon, her pyramidical beauty covering the valley below.

We pitched our tent, a terra nova solar, a tried and tested lightweight 2 person tent. We unrolled and inflated our roll mats then it happened….

I unpacked my sleeping bag!

Well, I thought it was my sleeping bag, it was in the same coloured dry bag!! But it wasn’t my sleeping bag, it was my down jacket! I little bit of panic crept in, I must have out it in. I unpacked all of the contents of the rucksack (which wasn’t much as we travelled lite), nope I’d forgotten my sleeping bag…ooops!!

Oh well, nothing I could do about it. On the plus side, I had a very warm down jacket, a set of waterproofs, a rucksack, food, water, hat and gloves.

We chilled for a bit, Clare in her sleeping bag, me in my down jacket. With the sun setting the temperature began to drop and the crowds gathered near the summit for the celebrations after dark.

I spoke to a member of the mountain rescue team. He said the plan was to light the flare at the same time Rossendale & Pendle team would light there’s on the summit of Pendle Hill, just north of Blackburn, then Duddon and Furness Mountain Rescue would lite theirs on Black Coomb at the south-west tip of the lakes. Each team would be able to see the next team’s flares, but true to British weather the skies were too hazy. Good idea though and spectacular none the less.

After the celebrations, we waited to have the summit to yourself. There was a chap with his young son waiting too and the son asked his dad if he could be the last one to stand on the summit for that day.

He did and I gave him that accolade.

Returning to our tent we snuggled down for a night’s sleep high on the mountain. It was dark now so in the light of our head torches Clare was toasty in her nice warm sleeping bag and me in my down jacket!! I had though put together an improvised sleeping bag.

I put my feet into my rucksack, which came to just below my knees. I also put on my waterproof trousers, down jacket, hat and gloves. I was Surprisingly comfortable, only the small section from my knees to my waist got cold. Time to settle down to some intermittent sleep.

The morning was, well a stark contrast to the day before! The cloud was down and the rain had returned. After packing our tent we set off in waterproofs to descend the south ridge and then the Rhydd Du path. No views today other than the mist and wet rock. After our descent, we arrived at the Rhydd Du railway station on the Ffestiniog railway, just in time for a train to the Ranger hostel station and to our car.

After drying out and changing we headed to one of our favourite watering holes, the Bryn Tyrch Inn in Capel Curig. We settled down for lunch and decided to share a sticky toffee pudding, just as well as it was the size of 1/2 a house brick.

Awesome few days in the mountains, and sometimes we have to improvise when things don’t go to plan! The mountains are a great classroom and a place to disconnect.

Have an awesome day and hope to share some wild experiences with you soon.

Spine Race 2017

Darren BLOG, Spine Race, What do we get up to! heavy rain, muddy, peak district, Spine Race, trail running, ultramarathon, ultrarunning, Winter, Yorkshire Dales

It was a crazy race! Brutal is an understatement! I hated it at times and only realised what an adventure it had been afterwards! And then it was fab! How perceptions change! There were dark moments, lots! I questioned my sanity, frequently! …And why I was there, when my love is for mountains not wading through godforesaken bog! I could sympathise with Wainwright and appreciated why he’d ‘had enough of it’ with the Pennine Way giving some of its worst!

It was slow, right from the start. The temperature was mild (for the Spine!) but the underfoot conditions went from horrid to treacherous throughout. Day one, where I’d normally run across Kinder proved difficult with the melting snow, ice, and water covered paving stones.

The first surprise was crossing the Downfall. Normally a hop, skip and a jump will get you across but the rivers were in spate from the melt from the snow and the rain. The river was deep and I watched others tentatively cross it. I saw another female runner in front get a dunking, right up to her chest as she lost her footing on the crossing. This made me nervous so I linked arms with two other runners for security to wade across as poles were of no support with the velocity of the water.

On Mill Hill, I stepped on what I thought was a slab…which had subsequently been consumed by bog! I went up to my thighs in the soggy peat mess and bent one of my poles in the process. Damn!

The river crossing on Bleaklow was scary. Being in a race more of a risk was taken and I watched as two other guys crossed the ferocious water. I used my poles for aid but my legs were quivering with the strength of the flow pushing against them. Luckily, the two guys in front saw me struggling and probably could see the fear in my face. Their instinct kicked in and they grabbed my arm & rucksack and heaved me out of the water onto the bank, I was slightly shaken to say the least but very grateful.

At the road crossing at Torside, my friend, Laura, met me with her son, Callum. It was lovely to see them. I had tea, a cheese sandwich and Callum gave me a chocolatey biscuit he had made, yum!

On the climb up to Black Hill, there were numerous other river crossings to navigate. It was going dark as I headed towards Wessenden but the road was easy to spot as the Mountain Rescue had the blue light flashing on their vehicle, which was mesmerising as I got closer. The fantastic support provided by the local mountain rescue teams at the road crossings was really appreciated with their friendly faces and much welcome refreshments.

As the race progressed it felt so slow, no matter how hard I tried. The mud was slippery and it was energy zapping. I was glad of my poles as these kept me upright on numerous occasions, even though one had a nice bend in it now!

It took me a lot longer to arrive at Hebden Bridge than I anticipated and my original plan to have a short stay went to pot. I rested for a couple of hours before leaving the Checkpoint with Sharon.

After continuing throughout the day, I was running with Gerard as it went dark. Just outside Thornton-in-Craven, Gerard’s wife and daughter turned up to surprise him with pizza. How lovely, they allowed me to gatecrash and I was invited to sit in their car and enjoy a delicious slice of pizza and a welcome cup of tea. Gerard and I arrived at Malham village after the pub had closed, rather disappointingly. We had a 10 minute power nap sat outside on the bench before getting cold. We then continued on our way up and over Malham Cove towards the CP at Malham Tarn.

I left the CP after changing my socks, eating one of my camping meals and drinking several more cups of tea. As I reached the top of Fountains Fell, it dawned a new day and I felt refreshed as I trotted down the other side and headed over Pen-y-ghent

I had soup and chips in the Pen-y-ghent cafe with more tea consumed before heading back out. The journey to Hawes seemed a slog over the Cam High Road. On my own, I slumped into a negative mindset. By the time I reached Hawes, I wasn’t bothered about my time as I was going to call it a day anyway! I wasn’t enjoying it so why would I want to continue?!

The checkpoint team were fab. They made me a lovely meal, told me to get some rest as I would feel better after some sleep. They completely turned around my mindset. Before long, I was heading back out.

On the flanks of Great Shunner Fell, I joined up with Phil for what seemed a never ending trek to the summit in the dark and foggy conditions. We were both dropping off to sleep as we walked so we talked to try to stay awake. I’d heard there was a barn when we reached the track on the other side so we decided to bivi for an hour. It was 2am and we both set our alarms for 3am. I slept well, too well! Neither of us heard our alarms and Phil startled me by shouting ‘Oi! Oi! It’s 4.30! I scrabbled around to try and find my head torch, jumped up out of my toasty bivi and quickly re-packed my rucksack. We realised at that point we didn’t know each other’s names after he called me Oi!

After a brief stop in the porch of the Tan Hill Inn and a quick chat with Mike on the Safety Team, it was off over Sleightholme Moor. The weather was pleasant as I headed across the moors towards the A66. Several miles further on, I descended towards the car park at Blackton Reservoir and it was nice to be greeted by Karl. I was provided with a kitkat and coke (which made a refreshing change from tea!) and I was soon on my way again towards the CP at Middleton.

It was just going dark as I descended towards Middleton. My little toes were starting to feel a bit tender so at the CP, the medics taped them up whilst I ate. After another short sleep of less than an hour, I was soon on my way again heading along the River Tees for what seemed like miles!

It was at this point I was joined by Rob. We carefully clambered over the greasy rocks on the bank side path of the river using our hands where necessary. This isn’t easy in daylight and was even more treacherous in the dark. The stars were out and as I looked upwards I was mesmerised by what I thought were little brightly coloured fairies dancing up and down in the night sky. Oh dear, hallucinations from sleep-deprivation, not good!

The scramble up the side of Cauldron Snout was interesting in the dark and I’m glad nobody could see me as it wasn’t very stylish using knees and belly flopping in places! At the top, we were greeted by Ben and Sean, who checked on our well being. We headed on our way along the track and feeling sleepy, knew another barn was situated alongside the track in about a mile. The barn had two rooms; the first had a dead sheep in it, yuk! ….and the second a dead rabbit! Choices, choices… we opted for the side with the dead rabbit! The floor was springy from years of dried mud and sheep muck it seemed! Comfortable though for my bivi! I didn’t hear my alarm again but it was a good job Rob had heard his. He shouted to me that we’d had an hours sleep and it was time to get up and move on.

It was dawning as we headed towards the impressive High Cup Nick. The mud seemed even more slippy than usual at this point or maybe I was stumbling a little with tiredness. On several occasions, I overstretched my right thigh slipping and sliding and it was extremely painful. It worried me for a while but on arrival at Dufton I took a few ibuprofen and this relieved the pain. We were greeted by Tom outside the cafe and headed straight in. The cafe had thankfully stayed open all night and it was a delight to be able to get a hot breakfast, orange juice, tea and a take-away sandwich for the journey.

Onwards and upwards over Knock Fell, Great Dun Fell and up onto Cross Fell. The weather was wet and claggy so it was a little difficult navigationally. Standing by the Trig Point at the summit shelter of Cross Fell was Joe. We walked and chatted with us for a short time whilst we descended to the track where he departed in the opposite direction.

We arrived at the infamous Greg’s Hut and were greeted by John, Paul and his gorgeous collie dog, Mist. Known to Spiners as the highest noodle bar in the UK! It was stiflingly hot from the fire as we walked into the main room but what a great place. I announced that I’d been waiting three years for these noodles, ever since I’d first read about the bothy in the Spine Race. The noodles didn’t disappoint and were simply delicious!

At Alston, the checkpoint was busy but it was lovely to see so many familiar and friendly faces. The dining area was full of racers eating and medics mending feet. By now I had a blister on my heal, which needed draining. The medics informed me they’d ran out of needles so asked if it be ok to pierce my blister with a safety pin? It needed doing so I wasn’t going to argue! It seemed a routine now to eat whilst having my feet patched up. Another hours sleep was grabbed and I woke up in a complete daze. It took me a while to come round. I couldn’t think straight about what I needed to do before I left. It was at this point that Brian, Rob and myself agreed we would leave the CP together for our onward journey.

I’d heard the next section towards Slaggyford could be tricky navigationally and it certainly proved it to us in the dark. The paths were non-existent at times so it was even slower going in the slippy, sticky mud. In the early hours, we were all falling asleep so agreed that an hours bivi was needed and found a suitable barn. A re-occurring theme!

As daylight broke, the terrain towards Greenhead was boggy, heavy going and uninteresting. We were joined by Gerard again and the strain of the week was beginning to show as all four of sat in the middle of a bog for a 5 minute power nap. We were concerned as we were told we needed to be at Greenhead for the recommended time of 12.36pm and knew it was going to be tight.

The safety team met us at the road crossing and we were provided with tea. I had a minor tantrum as cold water was poured into my ration pack, which delayed our stay longer than we anticipated whilst it was sorted out and I was able to get some calories consumed. In the meantime, I changed my socks.

On our way again, we were met briefly on the other side of Greenhead by Stuart. My laces on my boots had come loose despite wearing gaitors so Stuart gave me a lesson in how to tie a surgeon’s knot before we moved on!

We got to Hadrian’s Wall by late afternoon. I’d never seen the wall before so was in awe of the amazing structure and how well it had been preserved over all this time. Hurriedly, going up and over each outcrop like a roller coaster ride, I could feel my thigh twinging in the slippery mud.

We arrived at the next roadside safety point at Steel Rigg just as it had gone dark. We were greeted by the safety team all in good spirits. The three of us sat in the back of Karl’s camper and I spotted a pot of rice pudding and cheekily asked if I could eat it whilst drinking coke (not tea!). Karl gave us a pep talk about making it to Bellingham and was positive we could make it in the time we had got. The three of us were realistic, we knew that we were chasing the cut-offs but if all went to plan, it was easily achievable. Sugar fuelled, I was fired up and ready to go!

And that’s where it all went wrong….

After entering the forest, when not on the forestry tracks, it was frustratingly soggy, ankle deep, squelchy bog. Gerard joined us again after he’d taken a wrong turn. My phone started ringing and with it being a cheapo phone that I carried on events, I thought it must be the safety team perhaps telling us to hurry up! It was my friend, Kirsty, so it was good to hear a familiar voice. Darren had given her my number and it was even better that she had phoned to motivate and to give me a boost!

A little further on, I said to the guys, I needed to go to the loo and would catch them back up shortly. After about 10 minutes, when I caught them up, I can only say it was surreal. Brian had decided to retire as his feet were in a bad way, Rob was disorientated through lack of sleep and food and Gerard had gone on ahead. Brian decided to take refuge in his bothy shelter to keep warm and take stock of his options whilst Rob and I continued. Straight away unknowingly, we messed up on the nav and went round in a big loop ending back where we started with Brian! We did see some wild boar though, which was fascinating, although I had to check with Rob that I wasn’t hallucinating!

It started to get icy and I began to feel the cold as the pace had slowed down dramatically so we sheltered in Brian’s bothy whilst we worked out what we’d done wrong and I called Darren for support. What a mess! I had to make the decision to leave them as I knew my race was already in jeopardy to make it to Bellingham on time. Rob agreed he would continue as he felt better whilst Brian was going to phone the safety team. It was at this point, we saw a headtorch and it was Peter who had caught us up. We continued together but lost Peter after a brief distance. Rob and I both had a quick can of coke at Horneystead Farm but by this time the clag had descended and it was a real pea-souper. What was slow became slower as we could see no more than our hand in front of our face in the swirling fog. At one point, we saw Peter’s headtorch heading back towards us as he himself went round in a small loop!

I was weary and wobbly! The sugar had worn off from the coke. We couldn’t see the path in front of us as we headed up past Shitlington Crags so Rob took a compass bearing from our grid reference on the GPS. As we ascended up the hill, we could hear Peter’s voice calling out to us through the dense fog. We became concerned in case something had happened and shouted back but it was very disorienting as we couldn’t pinpoint where it was coming from. As we hit the track and approached the gate, we saw some lights behind us. At first we couldn’t make out whether they were headtorches but as they got closer it was car. It was the safety team. Peter was in the back of the car. They gave us the alternative of making our own way to Bellingham on foot or asked us if we wanted a lift…without hesitation, we both said yes….and that was that!!

We were timed out anyway…so there seemed no logic in prolonging the agony of completing the final few kilometres to the next CP on foot. Funnily, I didn’t feel disappointed. Of course, I wish I’d finished but what an adventure I’d had.

The checkpoint team at Bellingham (as with all the checkpoints) were amazing. They helped us with our bags, brought us bowls of water for our feet, made us drinks, cooked us a meal and generally made us feel very welcome and like heroes, even though we hadn’t even finished. Initially, I hated the idea of returning to the Pennine Way. There was no way I wanted to do it again but….I can’t leave unfinished business….so whilst being non-committal….watch this space!

King Offa’s Dyke Race

Darren BLOG, Running, What do we get up to! Beyond Marathon, Brecon Beacons, Chepstow, England, King Offa's Dyke, Long distance path, Prestatyn, trail running, Ultra marathon, ultra running, wales

185 miles is a long way!

It was unexplored territory. I didn’t know whether my body could cope with the miles or the sleep deprivation.

It did!

After the briefing, we were each given a coin, that we would need to keep and exchange at the finish for our prize. Where could I keep it safe? I settled on in with my first aid. Before the start of the race, we headed up to the official starting point of the Offa’s Dyke path as it was too narrow for the race to start there. A large rock marked the spot and everybody was waiting in turn to have their photograph taken. Crikey, I looked tired already, surely not. I’d had a lie-in and then snoozed in the car on the journey down. I’m hoping it was just poor lighting!

Darkness had descended by the time we set off at 8pm. Running up the roads and winding our way out of Chepstow, the leaders missed the left hand turn until someone spotted the mistake and we were all shouted back! Not a good start! Heading through woods, everyone was still tightly packed. The banter was flowing. I didn’t say much just wanting to relax, concentrate and save energy for the adventure ahead.

I arrived at Checkpoint 1 in good spirits. A short break here and a chance to have a quick bite to eat before venturing back out onto the streets of Monmouth. It had just struck midnight so there were still plenty of revellers out and about as I made my way through town.

The route went through numerous fields and in the early hours I began to feel a little chilled. I was in a small group at this point when we made a minor navigational error and couldn’t find a stile across a pitch black field in the dark. Nothing major but it didn’t help that there was no moon out.

We went past a place on the map called White Castle. I shone my headtorch around and surprisingly in the dark I was able to pick out the impressive ramparts of the castle in the head torch beam. We continued across more fields until it started to become light and from a distance we looked down on the lights of Pandy from above.

It was only a small deviation from the path to get to the village hall, where the checkpoint was located. Upon arrival I saw Darren who was sat at a computer. I felt a little tired so Al provided me with a cup of tea and I lay down on the floor with my legs raised for a brief spell. After a quick chat to Clive, I was soon on my way out again.

The trail now started to get interesting as it climbed steeply out of the valley up a road at first and then out onto the open fell. I was now in the Black Mountains and new I would be quite high up for the next eight miles as the path headed across the ridge. The sun was shining but it was extremely blustery. I was on my own for most of this section. Soon the trig point on the summit of Pen y Beacon was in site but the path oddly cut off right descending in the direction of Hay on Wye.

My legs were starting to ache which didn’t bode well as I’d only done 50 miles at this point. Some slippy paths ensued where I was glad of my poles for the extra grip and thankfully I was wearing my old faithful mudclaws so felt confident in my step. I crossed a style and into a country lane and who should be walking up the lane but Darren. Perfect timing, he’d seen me on the tracker and stopped to offer support as he headed from Pandy up to the next CP he was managing at Landegla. I told him I was tired and my legs were aching as I bent over onto my poles to rest for a minute. A quick kiss, we bade farewell and off I went again.

It was around noon when I arrived at the checkpoint in Hay. The team were great, very attentive finding me a chair to sit on, getting me a drink and providing wonderful fried egg butties (the best!). The first drop bags were here so I changed my top and got my sleeping bag out and found a nice quiet spot in the storeroom for an hours nap on the floor along with four others. That did the trick, I woke up refreshed and my legs no longer ached. I swopped my sleeping bag into my rucksack and left my liner in the drop bag, changed from mudclaws into roclites before heading back out.

This section from Hay was familiar as I’d led the recce for Richard in July. The route headed along the River Wye through fields and woodlands until we started the ascent of Hergest Ridge, the namesake of Mike Oldfield’s 1974 album. The sky was moody. I loved the run down from here on the recce and it didn’t disappoint despite being chased by the menacingly dark clouds as twilight beckoned.

A short stop at Kington, where I had some delicious soup with bread and a nice cup of tea before leaving. I left on my own but before long as I ascended out of the valley, I joined up with three other guys. It had now started to rain. The route finding was more challenging in the rain and as the swirling mist descended, it slowed progress down slightly. Upon the hill outside Knighton, we hand railed the fence because visibility had become extremely poor. The rain had been constant for a few hours now but all of a sudden it became torrential!

Two of the guys I was with became cold. I was concerned as one of them was shivering but had no extra layers to put on. We agreed that we needed to speed up slightly to generate more heat. When we hit the main road, the sign indicated three miles to Knighton. The two guys who were cold decided to follow the road for ease whilst myself and the third guy agreed to stick to the Offas Dyke path, which was actually more direct. This worked out well as the path was good underfoot and we were able to make a good running pace on the descent into Knighton.

I arrived at the checkpoint dripping wet. There were no drop bags here but I had a spare base layer and my primaloft smock which was dry to put on. I hung my jacket up to dry as best as I could and unfolded my thoroughly drenched map. The hot curried soup and bread together with a cup of tea worked wonders. Now it was time for sleep. There was bodies curled up on all the seats in the main room. It was a little noisy and the lights were bright but it was preferable to sleeping on the wooden floor in the back room, which was dark but someone was snoring incredibly loudly! I found a spot on a carpeted platform so climbed out of my wet gear, curled up inside my cosy sleeping bag, which I was now grateful that I’d carried and managed to get a restless hour’s sleep.

I woke up to the noise of others sorting out their gear. It was horrid putting my wet tights back on but they soon warmed up. I had more soup and more tea and made myself some cheese butties to take with me. I felt I needed something a little more substantial than the snacks I’d been eating.

It was still dark as I headed out on my own. I knew the first section well as it climbed steeply out of Knighton to a bench looking down on the valley below. It was unfamiliar territory there on after as the path traversed around the hill side looking down on the twinkling lights of the villages below. It was about an hour after I’d left Knighton, that I started to feel my eyes closing and I was literally dropping-off on my feet. I stumbled a few times. At the Trig Point, I almost made a navigational error with tiredness and nearly headed in the wrong direction but thankfully I corrected myself quickly. As the day started to break, the path descended steeply down a narrow muddy path and then I lost it completely! I found myself in a world of steep bracken but continued to descend and happily rejoined the path shortly after.

The next stretch of the trail was like a roller coaster of a journey not emotionally but physically and was one of my favourites sections of the route. We ascended out of one valley only to drop steeply back into another before climbing back out again. The day was now bright but extremely blustery. Before long the path crossed the exposed Kerry Ridgeway. At least the wind had dried my wet tights and rucksack out from the previous night’s soaking. It was at this point, I saw a bison sat in a field and wondered why it was there in Wales! Hallucinating, it was a big rock that had fooled my tired mind!

The deviation from the Offa’s Dyke path to reach the checkpoint at Montgomery seemed a long way. It was the middle of the afternoon and the checkpoint was bustling with runners and their supporters. The offer of a jacket potato was gratefully received and I’m sure I could have ate double! It was also a drop bag point so I took the opportunity to use the toilet facilities to change my clothes and to freshen up before departing again.

I left the checkpoint with Steve and we were kindly accompanied back to the Offa’s Dyke path by the one of the volunteers and Steve’s wife. Just after we got back on to the path there was a squally shower but it soon picked up again. We climbed up through the woodland to reach the summit of Beacon Ring then descended back down to the valley where upon we ran along the River Severn for a stretch. It was at this point after I had left the river and started to cross the flat fields walking on top of the Dyke itself I began to feel tired and dropped behind. I really struggled on this flat section. Give me hills any day! As the light started to fade, I felt low and started to feel the cold. I knew it was just a bad patch that I was going through but jaw crackingly wide yawns and an overwhelming sense of wanting to sleep, didn’t help.

I joined up with Jonathan just before the village of Four Crosses and we headed along the seemingly never ending stint on the canal towards Llanymynech together. On arrival at the checkpoint at the village hall, Tom cheerily greeted us. I had a cup of tea and half a pot noodle before digging my sleeping bag out of my rucksack and heading towards the quiet room for a sleep.

Upon waking, Tom made me some porridge and I had a cup of tea before heading out with a group of others in the dark. I don’t really remember much about this section but we were in good spirits and chatting away as the route wound it’s undulating way through fields and woodlands towards Chirk.

Arriving at Chirk, I was hungry. I’d polished the last half of my sandwich off that I’d made the previous day at Knighton just beforehand and was now ready again for something to eat. The pot noodle tasted good. My feet didn’t have any blisters but had started to swell slightly and I had a few hotspots so decided to get them taped up by the medics to prevent any further damage.

Soon on my way again, I was with Alison, Steve and Jon who I was with on this section of the recce a few months earlier, deja-vu! This is again another interesting section of the route as it crosses the mesmerising and infamous Pontcysyllte Aquaduct before traversing under the limestone crags of Craig Arthur and up through the vale delightfully named World’s End. It started to rain as we hit the road section and the temperature dropped so I briefly stopped to pull on my waterproof overtrousers. The weather was miserable as we crossed the duckboards heading towards the plantation. Alison and I were still together at this point as we descended down the slippery paths towards the next checkpoint at Llandegla. The rain had now stopped but we both felt cold and bedraggled as we approached the campsite. Darren came out to greet us in the field and told us there was warming vegetable stew and hot showers available.

The stew and hot shower did the trick and it was nice to get changed into clean clothes with this being the third drop bag point. It was dusk as I headed to the tent to get 3 hours sleep. Darren was under strict instructions to wake me at 10.30pm. I slept really well. I got my feet re-taped by the medics. No blisters, the tape seemed to be working really well.

Five of us all set off together at around 11.30pm. I knew this was a challenging but enjoyable section over the Clywdian Hills taking in the second highest point on the trail of Moel Famau. Shame it was dark but it seemed to make the long climb up to the summit go really quickly. Again it was extremely blustery and you could feel the wind chill. I was wearing surgical gloves I’d blagged from the medics as I’d forgot to put a spare pair of gloves in my drop bag, doh! and my others were soaking wet from the rain! They did the trick though and kept the wind off my hands effectively.

It started to get light as we descended to Bodfari and as we left the trail to get to the next Checkpoint we were greeted by Jon who kindly met us, to show us the way to the centre. The checkpoint was warm and friendly and they even had a menu! Beans on toast followed scrummy home made cake were the order of the day to set me up nicely for the final 12 miles. Although there mixed opinions on the actual distance ranging from 12 to 16 miles and anything inbetween!

The final section had no major climbs and the coast line soon came into view. The temperature had picked up and the wind had dropped so I removed my jacket. Near Dyserth, Paul, a friend who lived close to the path came out to greet me with his beautiful border collie, Mist. What a lovely surprise!

I spotted a familiar figure heading towards me and it was Darren who had run out to meet me. I was with Steven at this point, the sun was now shining but the path remained slippery underfoot from the previous day’s rain adding to the challenge on tired legs as we descended the narrow paths with our final destination, the Nova Leisure Centre, clearly visible from the cliff tops above Prestatyn.

As we hit the tarmaced road, I knew it was slightly down hill from here. From my recce, I was determined that I would run all the way to the end, if my legs would carry me! As we headed towards the town centre, I said to Steven, “oh look, they’ve got the bunting out for us!”. Up and over the railway line and down the straight road directly to the end. I could see the banners and the finish sign from quite far back so I stepped up the pace a little. I was on a roll now!

The crowds were clapping and cheering as I reached the end. As I stepped up onto the platform to the finishing stone, Richard said “kiss the rock” who was I to argue! That rock must have had more hugs and kisses than ever before! That was it, 185 miles…DONE!

The TDS Race – Ultra-Trail du Mont-Blanc

Darren BLOG, What do we get up to! alpine, Chamonix, Cormeyer, French alps, Italy, Mont Blanc, Running, TDS, TMB, Tour du Mont Blanc, trail running, ultra running, Ultra Tour du Mont Blanc, utmb

The TDS (Sur les Traces des Ducs de Savoie) is one of the five UTMB races and is classified as difficult. It’s known as the wild alternative to the CCC and UTMB and is a highly technical race set in the remote and picturesque surroundings of the Italian and French Alps.

Race Statistics

119km (73.9 miles) in length with 7,250m (23,786 feet) of height gain

Number at the start: 1794 including 174 women (9.70% of participants)
Number of finishers: 1060 (59.09% of participants) including 111 women (10.47% of all finishers) (63.79% finishing rate for the women)
Total number of DNFs (Do not finish): 734 (40.91% of participants)

My alarm clock went off at 2.45am and it felt like I’d hardly slept at all. I was nervous and had packed and repacked my rucksack the previous day so I knew I had plenty of time to get ready without rushing. I got on the bus at 3.50am for the 40 or so minute journey to the start, which went through the Mont Blanc tunnel to Cormayeur. The bus dropped us all off at the Leisure Centre, which was a sprawling mass of runners who were either sat or lying on every last inch of floor space, trying desperately to catch up on sleep, relaxing, making last minute preparations or generally nervously faffing about before the start at 6am.

After a count down in French, the race began. It was barely light as we set off through the busy streets, which were lined with cheering supporters and the ringing of the ubiquitous cow bells. Soon, we were out of town and heading up a steep climb on a track. It was a jostle at times so I kept a cautious look out for any stray poles being in such close proximity to other racers.

After the first checkpoint at the Col Checrouit, we took a single track path and continued to climb. As the field was still tightly packed there was plenty of queuing but this gave me the opportunity to take in the breathtaking scenery on the opposite side of the valley as the sun was rising.

The route followed the UTMB route in reverse until Lac Combal. Upon arrival at the checkpoint, I topped up my water bottle and took a few Tuc biscuits, the first of many! The sun was now hot as I headed off in a snaking line up the narrow rocky path that led up to the highest point on the course, the Col Chavannes at 2603m. A long, dusty descent followed on a seamingly never-ending track and I was pleased to be able to over take lots of other runners on this section. As I descended the heat started to intensify and I filled my bottle up from a cool mountain stream gushing at the side of the path to stay hydrated. In the valley, there was a grassy meadow that led into a woodland and the canopy of the trees provided welcome shade from the heat.

After ascending again, the route ran around the edge of the blue waters of Lac de Verney before a short, sharp ascent on a narrow path climbing up through shrubbery to reach the next checkpoint near to the road at Col du Petit Saint Bernard. After a quick toilet stop, I made a swift transition through the checkpoint stopping only to drink several cups of coke before grabbing a few more Tuc biscuits, a piece of dried bread and some cheese, which I ate on my way out.

Shortly after leaving the checkpoint, the route followed a track and then a narrow dusty descent on a path leading to the village of Saint Germain, where a rep was handing out cans of Red Bull. Not my favourite drink but it was surprisingly refreshing! The heat was stiflingly intense as we descended into Bourg Saint Maurice and the sun was penetratingly hot as the temperatures soared to well over 30 degrees. I could only equate it to being like inside a fan assisted oven as even the breeze was hot!

Eventually, I arrived at the Checkpoint in the centre of Bourg and it was horrendously busy with runners and their supporters jostling for space. I look 15 minutes rest here and found a small space to sit whilst I drank more coke and ate a few more Tuc biscuits and dried bread. My food strategy was to keep it simple at the checkpoints and supplement inbetween with my own food, mainly malt loaf, dried fruit and the occasional Eat Natural bar.

On the way out there was a compulsory kit check where I had to show my mobile phone, headtorch and space blanket. I always carry a tiny foil survival bag instead of a blanket but it was right at the bottom of my pack and it took me the best part of 5 minutes to repack my bag before I set off on the dauntingly steep climb.

Setting off up hill through the town, spectators cheered as I walked past. Soon the climb was out onto the open mountainside. I wasn’t looking forward to the ascent at all as I knew it was about 2000m to the top, which put into perspective is higher than any mountain in the UK as Ben Nevis is only 1345m high! To make matters worse, the sun was pounding down, the temperatures were oppressively hot and the lack of air combined to make it completely energy zapping. Every now and then the path meandered through trees and in the sanctity of the shade, other runners had stopped to rest and drink water before returning back out into the full sun.

Worryingly, it felt like there was a constant stream of people returning back to Bourg, I could only assume they’d had enough and were retiring. Runners looked after each other and anybody who was sat down or lying in the shade was checked, Ca va? by others to make sure they were ok. I was dripping with sweat from every pore in my body and at one point my right knee cap was so frustratingly itchy from the sweat irritating a small insect bite, I could’ve screamed! I found it both mentally and physically draining. It was a struggle to keep moving upwards and to put one foot in front of the other. I began to suffer and felt a little dizzy so I decided to sit in the shade until it wore off. Several times I was asked if I was ok. I briefly wondered about turning around myself but tried to banish the negative thoughts and knew I had to set myself little goals to reach the next clump of trees or the next tussock of grass before stopping to rest again.

I’d drank a litre of water since setting off from Bourg so it was a relief to see a water station up ahead as there were no streams on this climb to replenish my bottle. Still upwards, I was glad when the sun eventually went down behind the mountains and the temperatures began to drop a little.

I reached the Col de la Forclaz as the light began to fade and soon after, the path became rocky and scrambly in places. I soon began to chill and like many, stopped briefly to put on my waterproof jacket and get my headtorch out. It was a welcome site to reach the Passeur Pralagnon at 2567m. By this time, it was now dark. The safety team at the summit were friendly and offered coke and crisps. I was told to put my poles away before the steep descent as they would get in the way on the scramble down, which was interesting to say the least in the dark. The descent had been roped up in places to provide a handrail and was supervised. As the steepness receded it was still blocky with loose scree which reminded me of the terrain on the descent from Great Gable to Windy Gap in the Lakes.

Eventually I gained the flat track in the valley below that led directly to the next checkpoint at the Cormet de Roseland. Upon arrival, I checked my watch and gave myself 15 minutes. I picked up my drop bag, some apple purée, dried bread, more Tuc biscuits, coke and sat down. I changed my top and my socks, re-vaselining my feet between eating and drinking. The 15 minutes soon went quickly by and I was back out and on my way again.

The path up to the Col de le Sauce was muddy and rutted but then descended through a huge ravine and onto the next checkpoint at La Gitte. It was at this point that I retired last year with an injured knee so I wanted to make haste and move swiftly on. Another steep climb up to the Col de Joly and as soon as I got up high, I could hear the sound of loud music from the next checkpoint in the distance. Rather disappointingly the course didn’t take the direct route. I could see the snaking line of headtorches meandering rather protractedly up and around the valley first!

I had a quick stop at this checkpoint with more dried bread consumed although I did feel a little nauseous now and had difficulty swallowing it. I ate some chocolate coated crystallised ginger, which seemed to help keep the nausea at bay. Back out into the darkness, I descended the track down towards Les Contamines. I was so focused on running that I never even noticed day break!

The run through Les Contamines was flat and in the shade. I didn’t hang around at the penultimate checkpoint. Upon leaving the village there was an immediate steep ascent through a pine forest followed by a short drop down to the small hamlet of Miage. The final big climb then loomed steeply up ahead. The first part was still in the shade and passed relatively quickly but as soon as I got higher the sun was on my back and I could immediately feel my energy draining away with the heat as the path continued to zig-zag it’s way steeply up. I dug deep and arrived at the top of the Col de Tricot where there was a mini checkpoint with plenty of coke and water on offer. I refilled my bottle and necked a quarter of litre of it down before refilling it again and setting off quickly on the rocky and uneven descent.

Before long, the path crossed a spectacular suspension bridge over a tumbling waterfall above the gorge from the Bionnassay Glacier. The running was fabulous through the woodland and presented an interesting challenge as it was steep, technical and greasy in places. I impetuously folded my poles as I thought they were no longer required but then went slipping and sliding down the path almost taking out an older French runner in my tracks with me. I was very apologetic both in English and pidgeon French but thankfully he was very understanding in my foolhardiness.

I arrived at the final checkpoint in Les Houches and swiftly transitioned through. Thinking ok, good, only nine flat kilometres left to do! Was I wrong! The track was undulating all the way into Chamonix and it was hot in the valley despite being in the shade of the trees for most of the way. It passed in front of the rocks at Gaillands and then onto a minor road. The end was within my grasp but I couldn’t run as much as I would have liked as it was just too damn hot so a power walk would have to do! I turned into the main streets of Chamonix and made myself run faster overtaking others in the meantime. The atmosphere was amazing as shoppers, cafe dwellers and spectators were clapping and cheering me as I made my way towards the end. I rounded the corner and there it was, the finishing line. My friend, Paul joined me taking photos of the last 100 meters and as I crossed the finish line, gave me a big hug. I’d done it! I needed a drink!

The unfinished business from last year was completed. It wasn’t pretty nor was it fast, but I’d done it! That made me happy and I felt the tears welling up in my eyes with the relief of having made it!

I collected my gilet, which after DNFing last year felt great. Even though jokingly it does resemble a bin bag, it’ll still take pride of place in my wardrobe.

Clare’s Pennine Journey…Breaking the Spine!

Darren Spine Race, What do we get up to! inov8, OMM, Running, Spine Race, trail running

It started in January 2013. What? The obsession. I was browsing on Facebook and there it was, a race along the backbone of Britain, the Spine. Intrigued? I certainly was. I followed the runners progress throughout the week and when entries opened for the following year, I decided to sign up for the Challenger.

Nervously, I trained. Running around the Peak District with a rucksack laden with kit. I gathered more lighter weight gear to help make the task easier and not to overburden my petit frame. I’m never confident about my navigational abilities but can get by with focus and concentration. There was something inside, the ambition and drive that so wanted to be on the start line. When my partner, Darren, decided to enter too, that made it a bonus, we’d support each other and run together.

The start of the Challenger, 2016
Photo courtesy of John Bamber

There we were at the start. The weather forecast had given it out to be fine but as we waited at Edale for the race to begin, it started to drizzle. Off we went, racing across the fields and as we climbed Jacob’s Ladder, it turned into full on blizzard conditions. Fun! It was winter after all but it caught everyone by surprise. On the summit of Kinder, the snow relentlessly fell and many of the competitors started to look like abominable snowmen as the snow settled both upon them and on the ground. This made conditions underfoot slippery and unfortunately, it claimed one or two competitors when they fell and injured themselves. We checked they were ok and continued, knowing their race had come to an abrupt end all too soon. On the approach to the Snake Pass, we saw several members of the Mountain Rescue Team walking towards us going to help them out. Heroes!

On Kinder
Photo courtesy of Summit Fever

Dusk arrived rather too rapidly just after Black Hill and after refilling my water bladder at Wessenden, it soon became dark. My bladder then decided to leak with water dribbling out of my pack leaving me with a wet leg, great! We started to get cold as the temperatures dropped quickly but onwards we continued throughout the night.

On the descent from Stoodley Pike, Darren developed a painful knee which limited our progress. By now the temperature was freezing and we could see our breath in the light of our headtorchs. I suddenly became concerned when Darren said watch out for the elephants! Cold and mildly hypothermic he added another layer and thankfully soon warmed up as we ascended out of the valley.

Darren’s knee got worse during the day after Checkpoint 1. Steadily we continued through Bronte Country and soon it was dark again. The path across Ickornshaw Moor was murky, bleak and cold. Then in the middle of the flagged path was a huge poo! Yes human, yuk! Disgusted, we ranted as to why they couldn’t have stepped to one side of the path? We nicknamed it ‘poo path’ ever since then!

We arrived on the outskirts of Cowling and had a quick bite to eat in the road side shelter. I felt jaded as it rained heavily and tiredness was starting to take its toll. We continued on across the muddy fields, slipping and sliding and by now I was quite miserable. We got to Pinhaw Beacon, it was windy and cold and we’d simply had enough! At the next road crossing we jumped into the Marshalls vehicle and that was that, we called it a day.

Darren on the Safety Team in 2015

Undeterred, I entered again in 2015. This time, I would be racing on my own as Darren was on the Safety Team. I’d learnt lots of lessons from the previous year. I was better prepared, fitter and more determined that it wasn’t going to beat me again! I new I had to manage those demons that sit on your shoulder when you’re tired, shouting my legs hurt, it’s cold, I want some sleep!

So there I was, back on the start line for the 2015 Challenger and it was a truly epic race. Much like the previous year it started to rain at Edale and after we set off, we were treated to driving heavy rain, horizontal hail and gale force winds that threatened to blow me off my feet at any moment.

Heading out of Edale at the start

I buddied up with Sarah and Peter just before Stoodley Pike and we stayed together for the rest of the race, which was great. We all went through low points at different times so we bolstered each other and kept spirits high including singing as we ascended Pen-y-Gent!

Progress was slow but I didn’t have any ambition over time. I’d never been this far before so it was a journey of discovery for me to see whether my mind and body would behave and get me through. All I wanted to do was get to the finish in one piece. And I did. The wind was unrelenting throughout. On the Cam High Road, it presented us with one final challenge as we were blasted, battered and bashed around and it was a tough fight to stay upright but I won! My trekking poles were a godsend.

I was shattered but so happy and relieved to be at Hawes and a bonus for Sarah and myself to be awarded joint second ladies.

2016 was a year of consolidation. My ambition is to complete the full Spine Race so I want to ensure I am fully prepared and as part of my preparation I decided to help out on this year’s race as part of the Safety Team. This included spending an overnight stop at the Auchope Refuge in the Cheviots with temperatures well below freezing. I had a fabulous week supporting, which proved invaluable as I was able to talk to the other competitors to enable me to develop my own strategy for next year. So…

…all that stands between me and Kirk Yetholm is 268 miles with 287 gates, 392 stiles and 204 bridges! Wish me luck!

Previous blogs:

http://www.mountainsinmind.com/spine-challenger-kit-list-and-things

http://www.mountainsinmind.com/the-spine-challenger

The Bob Graham Round

Darren Running, What do we get up to!

42 peaks, 66 miles, 28,000 feet of ascent…what a day!

I developed a love of the mountains from those very first visits to the Lakes and built up my strength as a hill walker. I can’t say I was naturally fit as a teen but I tried. As I left University and became gamefully employed, weekends were constantly taken up with climbing and peak bagging. I started running when I was 26, mainly as a mid-week activity to keep me fit for for my weekend jaunts to the hills but as I got older, I ran further distances on road, fell and in the mountains and quietly had an aspiration to complete the round.

This was to be my second attempt. Last year felt like a catalogue of disasters with navigational problems, poor visibility, lack of confidence in my ability, fatigue, nausea, stomach cramps and runners trots to name but a few! This year I was more mentally prepared and physically stronger. My training had gone well, I had reviewed my diet, started to understand my own body better, specifically my hypothyroidism and the demands I placed on myself.

So here I was…on the start line, so to speak…again!

There was a gathering around the Moot Hall as friends had come to see myself and another contender, Rob, who had also opted for a 6pm start, set off. As we headed across Fitz Park it was sunny, warm and humid. We soon started sweating as we climbed up towards Lattrig and onwards up the path towards the summit of Skiddaw.

Feeling good, my support team of Julie and Dave were constantly giving me bites to eat or a swig of water. The summit of Skiddaw was claggy, nothing unusual there for me! The boggy bits in between were…boggy and by the time we reached the summit of Great Calva I was 11 minutes up on my schedule.

Following a swift descent and a quick crossing of the River Caldew, it was then a long climb over Mungrisdale Common to the summit of Blencathra before dropping immediately down onto Halls Fell Ridge. The rock was greasy underfoot from the rain earlier in the day so it was a little tricky in places but that didn’t hinder progress much and by the time I arrived in Threlkeld I was still 7 minutes up on my schedule. By now the sun was setting and provided a stunning backdrop. I had a 5 minute break here where I changed my top, had a bite to eat before Ellie who’d set the timer shouted it was time to go!

The climb up Clough Head is a bit of a nemesis of mine so I took my trekking poles to help with the ascent. My nerves were eased as the navigation along the Helvellyn ridge was made easier by a clear night and we could see the head torches of Rob and his team snaking out in front.

Approaching Helvellyn, I started to feel dizzy and re-assured myself it was just a bad patch I was going through but it affected my pace. On the ascents I kept using my trekking poles and reflecting back maybe they slowed me down more, as I felt more fluid without them. Then just as we were about to climb Fairfield, my head torch failed. I’d inadvertently switched it onto the bright setting when I’d put it on earlier and this had drained the battery. At this point, I realised I’d made a school boy error as I’d forgotten to pack spare batteries. I swopped torches with Ode for the ascent but was angry with myself for this mistake. Fortunately, Aleks was carrying spare batteries so by the time I made it back to base of Seat Sandal my batteries had been changed and I swopped back to my own headtorch. At the summit of Seat Sandal, we lost the BGR trod from the second cairn, which hindered the descent a little but it didn’t take long before we saw the lights of the cars awaiting us at Dunmail Raise.

I was a little down on my schedule and was encouraged to take the full 10 minutes here before the long leg to Wasdale. I had a cup of tea and a sandwich before setting off on the steep climb up Steel Fell. As we traversed the boggy terrain across to Calf Crag it started to dawn and every now and again I’d get chilled by the cool wind.

Strangely, I can’t remember much of this leg at all as I wasn’t feeling great for most of it but as we approached the Langdale Pikes an impressive temperature inversion clung to valley floor with the majestic mountains popping through the cloud. An inspirational landscape and a wonderful reminder of how stunning the Lake District is.

I think it was slightly claggy on Bowfell as we pulled up to the summit. The climb seemed to last forever. It was a trot across to Esk Pike and in a blur I couldn’t remember which mountains were which until we reached the summit of Scafell Pike. Surprisingly there was only our party around so we had the top all to ourselves. The rocky path dropped down to Mickledore and we found probably the easiest of the scree shoots to take us across to Lords Rake and the West Wall Traverse again in the clag. We popped out onto the plateau and although only a stone-throw away, Mandy and Kirsty had to follow a compass baring to reach the summit of Scafell, which on a clear day is no trouble to spot.

Upon arrival at Wasdale I knew I was just under an hour down on schedule. I was greeted by my lovely support team who ralyed around me and I was provided with tea and some porridge. After 10 minutes we set off on the ascent up to Yewbarrow, which went surprisingly quickly. I was feeling ok again and this reflected in my times. It was claggy and quite windy and cold when we got on the ridge and headed over Red Pike. Geoff and I went out and back to Steeple whilst Julie and Lucinda sheltered by the wall. The nausea started to return again and I was constantly heaving and felt unwell. Over the summit of Kirkfell I was sick, which made me feel instantly better for a short time which meant I was able to climb Great Gable easier.

On the summit of Gable, we were met by Martin who had come up to greet us then later on near Grey Knotts we were met by Clive where I put my order in for rice pudding and tea at the next stop, Honister.

I had a 5 minute stop here and I was handed the tea by Darren but eating the rice pudding was difficult as it wouldn’t go down but the tea was good. We set off on leg 5 and disappointingly I knew I wouldn’t be able to make the sub-24 hour mark now but there was no way I was going to stop, even feeling rotten I was going to make sure I finished.

The wretching continued throughout Leg 5 and Clive kept breaking off tiny pieces of malt loaf to give me. The only problem was I couldn’t swallow them without a gulp of water every time. However, ingesting it did seem to help with the nausea a bit.

We dropped down off Robinson, traversed around the crags and eventually gained the track which led to the road. A little while on, Darren and Ellie were waiting in the car and the original plan was to change into road shoes if I’d got the time. As I knew I wasn’t going to make sub-24 mark there was no reason to rush so I was encouraged to change my shoes. My feet were sore underneath not from any blisters but from the constant pounding on the rocks. Larry and Clive kindly tackled one foot each (very brave of them!) taking off my wet smelly mudclaws and socks and putting nice dry socks on my feet. It didn’t take long and we were soon heading off jogging again towards Keswick at a steady pace. Darren and Ellie later joined me at Portinscale for the run into Keswick.

I was very humbled to see people clapping and greeting me on my arrival at the Moot Hall (although some of it was supporters for the band that was playing!) I was pleased to have finished and it was meant a lot to see that so many people were happy for me but deep down I had an underlying feeling of disappointment that I’d let myself down. I know it’s a great achievement to get round and to finish but my self-critical internal voice kicked in! I kept asking myself a lot of what ifs…to which I had no answers!

On a more positive note, even feeling ill it was an amazing experience in the company of so many wonderful and inspirational people. I am truly grateful for everyone giving up their weekend to support me and I feel honoured to be part of such a great community of runners.

Will I do it again? Not yet…but never say never!

Photos courtesy of Aleks Kashefi, Mark Cornes, Lucinda Stone

What do we get up to!

Read more about our exciting 32 day adventure travelling through France in HaRVey, the camper in our blog here.

There’s not many courses that you attend where one of the activities is to think of how many different words you can come up with for poo!

42 peaks, 66 miles, 28,000 feet of ascent…what a day!