King Offa’s Dyke Race

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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!