Challenge

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!

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.