ultrarunning

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!