Ready for an adventure? š§ Take on our Spring Navigation Challenge and put your map skills to the test! šŗļø (Hint: Ordnance Survey maps will be your best friend!) š§¹
Part 1: (Easy) š¶āāļøš¶āāļø Starting at Tom Bradās Croft Car Park (by the rubbish bin), navigate your way to: š
The Dipping Stones š§
River Goyt Footbridge (south of Hillbridge Woods) š
The Swan Inn, Kettleshulme š»
Mediaeval Cross (remains) on Elnor Lane āļø
Bridge over Toddbrook at Kishfield š
These locations are not in any order. Your task is to find the shortest route from the car park, visiting or passing each location, and returning back to the start. šŗļø
You can use any road, public right of way, or established path. š¤ļø Record your route (keep it private if uploading to Strava etc.). š² Send your claimed mileage to Chris Tetley š¬
You may be asked for proof ā so make sure you record your activity on Strava, Garmin, a GPX file, or any system that tracks your distance. ā
Part 2: (Advanced) šāāļøšāāļø As well as completing Part 1, your challenge is to visit specific Peak & Northern Footpaths Society (PNFS) signs! šŖ§
Work out where they are. Note the sign number and year. š
You can choose to do just Part 1, or combine Part 1 and Part 2 together for a bigger challenge. šÆ Same rules: shortest distance wins! š You can run or walk ā time is not critical, only distance counts! ā³
Summary: šŗļø
Navigate from Tom Bradās Croft Car Park š æļø
Visit all listed locations
(Optional) Visit PNFS signs too
Find the shortest route
Record your mileage and keep proof
Submit to Chris Tetley
Good luck and enjoy the adventure! š Happy navigating, GVS! šāāļøšāāļø
Chris B: The Northern Traverse, organised by Ourea Events, follows Alfred Wainwrightās Coast to Coast path across the breadth of England, from St Bees to Robin Hoodās Bay. I first did the Coast to Coast with Dave in 1975 ā the summer after my āAā levels. It took two weeks, and I found it very tough. I had a big, framed rucksack and was wearing leather walking boots. When I realised that it would be 50 years ago this year since Iād done this as my first multi-day walk, I thought that doing the route again would be a nice idea. I talked to Chris T. who has been my partner in crime on other ultras and we agreed to enter.
Chris T: The race is continuous with support points along the way where there is food, lovely volunteers who canāt do enough for you, and medics if needed. At some of the support points you have access to a drop bag and can have a bit of sleep (if you are lucky) in a shared tent.
If we managed to finish it in the time allowed (a good bit less than 5 days) it would be a really big achievement, especially as we are both almost 68 and would be amongst the oldest competitors.
Saturday morning all preparations done and off to St Bees. This time to the seafront. Crowds of people are beginning to mill around the start area. First objective, we go and collect a small pebble and dip shoe in the sea. The obligatory photo by the official start sign of the C2C route and we are ready.
And We Are OFF
It wasnāt long before we started to assemble in the start funnel. The sun was shining bright and its time we were off up onto the cliff top path to St Bees Head. Soon, we begin to turn inland and, in the distance, can be seen the Lake District fells ahead of us.
After Ennerdale Bridge itās a short, wooded section to the lake. The path starts quite good along the southern edge. But soon becomes very undulating and rocky and at times quite slow going. At Lakes end you are now definitely in the Lake district fells. Tall hills to the left and right. Crossing the valley floor its now an easy path to Black Sail. Here there is a small kitchen with a few essentials, kettle too. A small charge via an honesty box.
Downhill, passing by Seatoller, we came to an unusual section where you scramble over a rocky rivers edge by holding on to a chain. Different! Passing through the Youth Hostel grounds to Rosthwaite Village Hall and another very welcome support point. Food and drink all available but no drop bag here. Time for a short rest before heading out into the evening and the next big hill.
Rosthwaite to Patterdale (14 miles 1015m ascent
Climbing Greenup Edge
Following Stonethwaite Beck the light was by now beginning to fade, the gradient becoming steeper and steeper until we got to the near vertical scramble of Lining Crag. This is a very steep craggy section with a poorly defined path on the way up. It was fully dark by now which made it trickier. Luckily its only short and soon we are on the top of Greenup Edge.
We now began the steady descent down along a much easier path heading into Easdale. The temperature was now beginning to drop, becoming quite cold. Further down Easdale the lights of Grasmere were to be seen ahead.
Grizedale Tarn
We donāt fully reach Grasmere but turn left to begin the third big climb of the day. Itās now approaching midnight and ahead of us can be seen the lights of fellow runners as we climb at the side of Tongue Gill. This too has some quite steep sections up to Hause Gap between Seat Sandal and Fairfield. Once over the top we pass by Grizedale Tarn and begin the descent. This one is shorter, and I suppose the knowledge that once down we would be arriving at the first checkpoint kept us pressing on. Passing through Grizedale Forest and then past the Ruthwaite Climbing hut the journey continued in a mainly downward direction (Yippee).
Paths become tracks, tracks become roads, eventually tarmac and we are here in Patterdale.
Located in the school grounds, this is the first proper checkpoint, so we have access to our drop bags, The priority now was sleep. Berth allocated, all extra layers on in our sleeping bags; we were in a tent outside! It was Cold, Very Cold! Think it’s fair to say that sleep was minimal at best. Noise from a heater, the cold, and people just milling around. We had allowed ourselves 3 hours sleep – still rest is better than nothing. Once back in the main tent we picked a spot nearer the cooking area, away from the draughty doorway to put things away back in bag. Change clothes, have breakfast. Prepare feet, change shoes. Then it was off out again. It was now daylight.
Patterdale to Shap (15 miles, 950m ascent)
The prospect of another nice day lay ahead of us. We were about to do the last of the Lakeland big hills, Kidsty Pike. This one doesnāt seem as bad itās a steady climb up the hillside before we turn towards Angle Tarn. There were lots of people wild camping up there. Bet they were cold overnight! Up to the top where we reflected on how bad the weather was last time; we were here on the recce last October. This time it was glorious sunshine as we summitted Kidsty, the highest point on the whole route, over the top then itās a very sharp descent to Haweswater.
Haweswater
Once down we follow the side of the reservoir for what seems an eternity. Just like Ennerdale Water, itās not flat so there is still some climbing to do, eventually reaching the end and the first habitation in a while. Here in Burnbanks is a small tuck shop/cold box with some flapjack and drinks available (cold). After a pause it was on across fields and tracks to Shap Abbey and Shap support point for food ā no drop bags this time.
Shap to Kirkby Steven (19 miles 418m ascent)
From here to the next checkpoint is 19 miles, not too far really. One of our fellow run/walkers decided to call for a Guinness before leaving Shap! No, we werenāt tempted this time. It was late in the afternoon by now and we needed to press on. Itās worth mentioning that on this stretch we noticed the shiny new finger posts were quite inconsistent, at least when it came to miles marked on them. So, the distances went down but only by a little but then they went down a lot and after that not so much. I (Chris T) had also at this point had a problem with my watch Navigation app: (somewhat annoying) but I had to learn to live with it.
This section is just bumpy, and progress was beginning to slow. It was proving another long day. Donāt suppose the featureless cold dark moors which seemed to go on forever helped. I was beginning to fall asleep on my feet, but there were still a few miles to do to get to Kirkby Stephen. Tantalising lights in the distance of some habitation but not there yet. Getting stuck the wrong side of a wall near an old farmhouse all added to the long remaining miles. Finally, we begin to drop off the moor and into the town. The support point is in the school here. So, we follow the route and walk all the way right round to the back of the building. This time we are inside ā¦. Warm and suitably refreshed, we again go to get some sleep. The staff apologised that the tents which were erected in an unheated sports hall. But they were inside. Much warmer than last night, luxury. I We had a few hoursā sleep (probably 3-4).
Kirkby Steven to Reeth (Nearly) (32 miles 1068m ascent)
I woke up feeling much better, Breakfast was porridge, and some scrambled egg. Tea, of course. Chris B was still in bed. I texted, messaged, one of the staff was going to see where she was and then she appeared ā¦. Slept in! we were looking forward to an easier day ahead. Only 30 miles to Richmond.
At just on first light we set off up the hill to the Nine Standards. It was a glorious morning, and we were making good progress.
The stone slab flagging of Nine Standards is still very much work in progress. Piles of slabs waiting to be laid. New bridges mainly over the deeper groughs, two diggers on the hillside but I understand that work had paused due to ground nesting bird season. Having said that, the piles of slabs, the new bridges and the fact that the weather was incredibly dry meant that what should have been a bog fest wasnāt. Plus, what remained of the boggy bits were still frozen because of overnight frost.
Eventually we came off the moors and arrived at the head of Swaledale. It was from here the wheels began to properly come off the bus for me. The food I had for breakfast had clearly run out and not Iām sure what I was thinking of. In my head it was a nice easy trot down easy valley paths to Reeth. No. Here the C2C splits to low level and high level. We do the high-level route up and over the moors past the old lead mine workings. Itās an interesting area but it goes up, then down, then up again. It was across one of the moor tops that I had a wander off the path again due to lack of sleep or energy, take your pick. Following yet another steep down and up and then the prospect of another steep scramble coupled with the fact that we were losing ground timewise, a decision was looming. Not a decision I have had to take before, and it was hard. I was not really feeling hill-safe anymore. Its OK wandering off a nice path, but not on a steep scramble. I had a sit down and had to have the discussion with Chris B. In reality my time was up. A quickly planned exit strategy down to Gunnerside following the river was my way off the hill.
I spent the next hour on my way down telling myself that I really had no option. The tiredness was probably brought on not being able to eat. Lots of high energy bars with me, but I couldnāt eat any of them. A nightmare! I never have been able to fully resolve my fuel intake in hot weather. Once depleted it takes a lot of catching up. My feet were fine, my fitness was fine, but there was nothing left in the fuel tank.
To say I was gutted was an understatement. Once down the hill I was met by two Safety Team personnel who were heading out to find me. I was nearly at Gunnerside. They were very sympathetic and said I had absolutely made the right decision. When I arrived at their van I had done 99.95 miles. They said I couldnāt leave it there and made me walk round the van to push it over a hundred.
I was then taken to the next checkpoint at Richmond. The staff there were also very sympathetic. I was even given a hug by one of the helpers there I knew from my time on the Spine. So, something to eat and drink, and I was falling asleep at the table, so I was encouraged to go to bed in one of the tents. Might as well as I was waiting to be picked up by Helen.
I had completed 100 miles and over 17,200 ft (5250m) of climbing.
Meanwhile I last saw Chris B scrambling up the steep climb to yet another moor. She phoned in my intentions to race HQ. It was then an easy down to Reeth. Could I have made it? Possibly but at what cost? It took best part of a week for things to get back to some semblance of normal.
Reeth to Richmond (10 miles 314m ascent)
Chris B: I was sure in my mind that Chris T had made the right decision. Weād always had an agreement that if one of us dropped out, the other would continue if they could. I had sore feet but apart from that I was fine, and I knew that I could make up a bit of time. At the point when Chris decided to retire and descend to the valley, there was no phone signal, so the most important thing was for me to get to a point where I could phone Race Control and explain what was going on. I climbed up to a cairn where there was a signal and talked to a lovely lady who told me they would send out the safety team to meet Chris at Gunnerside.
This section goes through the Vale of York and is much flatter than the previous sections. It involves a lot of road sections interspersed with hard track which proved to be hard on the feet in the warm daytime weather. Setting off in the dark at 4am with Richard and Bev, we followed the river Swale out of Richmond to a footbridge over the A1. We then continued on roads and tracks: fast walking and a little bit of jogging (or ultra shuffling) remembering to eat every time I felt a little bit hungry. We eventually arrived at Danby Wiske, where a lovely man walking the Coast to Coast told us it was worth diverting 200m off the route to a campsite with an honesty box and hot drinks and that the owner would make bacon sandwiches if asked. We were so glad that we took his advice ā he even accompanied us to show us where things were. True to his word the lady made me hot egg sandwiches, we had several cups of coffee, and she charged us Ā£4! And I was able to put more tape on my little toes! Fortified for the next few miles, we progressed to the A19 road crossing. This is a notoriously fast road and has a reputation for being difficult to cross. I arrived just in front of the other two and caught up with Luke and Sarah who had been into a nearby petrol station and had more real food in their hands. I decided more food was needed and stocked up. In the event it wasnāt too difficult to cross the road via the central reservation and we started the climb up onto the Yorkshire Moors. The climb was fine but the descent into the Lordstones support point was painful. We arrived about 5pm, had some food and I got into my sleeping bag for an hour and a half sleep knowing that I had only 40 miles left to do and that I was likely to be able to finish even though I would have to go right through the night!
Lordstones to Robin Hoodās Bay (41 miles1472m ascent)
It had taken 106 hours 27 minutes, and I was the oldest person to finish, of which I am very proud! I was presented with my (wooden) medal and I remembered to cast my little pebble into the sea!
We have an online calendar which is visible on our web site at https://www.goytvalleystriders.org.uk/pages/members.html. Our intention is that all our events – training, sessions club races, championship races, away runs, social events – are published there. As well as the web site, the calendar is available as an iCalendar , which can be accessed in many of the apps you might use to manage your diary.
A reminder to everyone that this winter we will be running regular Thursday evening training sessions.
The first session is now scheduled to take place Thursday 31st October at 7pm.
I have included a provisional list of sessions for the five dates below on this spreadsheet (also linked on the club website) which I will continue to update over winter.
The sessions will focus on hill work and speed with an emphasis on V02 Max and Lactate Threshold to improve capacity at higher intensities and hopefully help people progress towards their goals.
I hope to see as many people attending as possible and once we get started I’ll hone the sessions to help all those attending.
Please pass on the details to anyone not on Social Media and sign up for the dedicated Thursday Training Whatsapp group
Sunday, August 28th, 2022, I was very happy to finish UTMB, crossing the finish line in Chamonix to an atmosphere unmatched in the world of ultra running. It was my first ātrueā 100-miler (actually 106 miles) and the first time I went over 10,000m in elevation gain/loss. I had completed āThe West Highland Way Challenge Raceā earlier in the year and struggled significantly with blisters (an ongoing challenge) due to the boggy Loch Lomond section. This altered my gait and led to a knee injury, which resulted in me taking six weeks off after the raceāfar from ideal for UTMBābut I persevered, and finishing UTMB was beyond anything I had ever imagined. At the time, I remember thinking, āCould I top this experience?ā
In 2024, I did UTS 100-mile again and gained more experience, and by Sunday, 1st September 2024, I felt ready for the challenge.
I had spent two nights in Fiesch and got to know several 660km competitors (Tim Woodier gets a special mention as he had been amazingly helpful providing information and sharing his experience with me via social media before the race) and a few 360km ones, and I can honestly say that arriving in Oberwald, this was one of the strongest-looking start lines I had ever seen. No one was āwingingā this one, and if they were, they wouldnāt make the cut.
The main issue for me was that I hadnāt slept well on 31st August due to noise in the hostel as the 660km race set off at midnight from Fiesch to Oberwald. There was noise all night, and I was aware that I had barely slept. Sleep deprivation was to become the primary difficulty throughout the event.
Race day one went well, and I paced myself comfortably, with a huge buffer over the cut-offs. I arrived at Lifebase 1, Fiesch (my accommodation for two nights), before dark and had a nice meal before setting off with my headtorch for night one. The first night went well, and I wasnāt too tired, but I was counting on a good sleep at Lifebase 2 (Eisten), which, unfortunately, didnāt happen. The sleeping area consisted of PE mats spread out in a noisy hall, and after lying down for 45 minutes, sleep didnāt come. However, I had a sports massage (although a chiropractor surprised me beforehand, as I was expecting a massage š¤£) and a shower, which revitalised me a little. But, like an energy gauge on a battery, I felt I had gained a ābarā, but by the time I reached the Jungu aid station, I was already feeling this bar was dissipating.
At this point, I had partnered with two Belgian guys (Sebastian and Maxim), who ended up as the 360 Duo Champions, and they encouraged me to keep up with them. Soon after leaving Jungu, however, my tiredness hit, and they went ahead, having had far more luck with sleep than I had. I was alone on the mountain for night two, and this was one of the toughest nights of the race for me. The poor sleep in Fiesch the night before, combined with two nights on the course with no sleep, took its toll.
Upon arrival at Grimentz, daylight was beginning to break, and I received a text alert instructing me to āignore the GPX and follow the flagsā. This was the only message I received during the race, which was odd, as there were far more significant route changes within the mountains that went unannounced. Iām told French-speaking participants were verbally informed at checkpoints, but as a non-French speaker, I was left in the dark.
The Lifebase at Grimentz was excellent. I managed to sleep for 1 hour and 30 minutes (in hindsight, I should have slept longer, as it was quiet in the dorm with just two of us in the room). I had reaped the benefits of the sports massage at Eisten, so I decided it was worth queuing at Lifebases for treatment. Each time I queued here, I ended up with Luca Papi, the multiple-champion ultrarunner who had advocated for the creation of the 660km course. He was struggling with his feet and getting them frequently treated and taped. Luca and Irish runner Brian Mullins had intended to finish the 660 race and then immediately travel to Courmayeur to participate in TOR 450. Luca didnāt make it in time, but Brian traveled to Italy and managed 75km of TOR450 before a DNFāa remarkable feat considering that back-to-back, he had completed UTS 100-mile, Crossing Switzerland 420km, Grossglockner 110km, and PicaPica 100km, with very little rest between them, before embarking on the 660km race (nine days after finishing PicaPica). Meeting people like this is inspiring, showing what the human body and mind are capable of achieving.
After some fresh eggs and roasted potatoes, I left the Lifebase and briefly bumped into Guillaume, who had just finished his massage.
I set off, reinvigorated by the sleep and could marvel at the views of the Alpage de Torrentāthe mountains, dam, and glacier melt were so vivid in colour. A woman filming for the race approached me to ask how I felt about the views. I had also been on the live broadcast at ChƤserstatt aid station on day one. From Alpage de Torrent, I continued the climb to Col de Torrent (2,916m, the high point of the race), where I met an English hiker who encouraged me and told me Kim Collison was winning the 360.
The sleep at Grimentz powered me through the day, and I arrived at Thyon (Lifebase 4, 204.2km), where I met Tim Wiggins for the first time in the late hours.. I had a shower, a massage, and had my feet fixed, as a few hotspots had started to appear. The podiatrist treated and taped them while Luca Papi, snoring next to me, was undergoing the same process. I then tried to sleep in the dorm, as I needed itāmy energy bar was almost at zero. Unfortunately, despite my efforts, I lay there for two hours like an insomniac, hyper-alert to the snoring, which seemed to come from at least a dozen people. Earplugs made no difference, and I remember thinking about the futility of wishing I could sleep like them. After two hours, I got up and ate some lasagne before leaving in the dark, hoping the two hours of lying down and the massage would help.
As I left the Lifebase, light started to break, and I arrived at the Tortin aid station already exhausted (not a good sign, considering there were still 80km and 5,300m of elevation gain/loss to go before Salvan Lifebase). Luca arrived shortly after me, receiving the usual celebrity welcome, with people taking selfies with him. He had obviously slept well and had a new lease of life, leaving before me. A Belgian 360 runner also arrived, looking severely sleep-deprived and massively disappointed when the volunteers told him there were no beds. I prepared to continue, and the volunteer, with a wry smile, told me to ājust keep up with Luca,ā assuring me the way to Lourtier was easy to follow.I was exhausted and down as I focused (not for the first time) on the psychedelic music from the jangle of cowbells. In the dark, the cowbells and, more disconcertingly, the growling and barking of nearby Patou were a common theme, and it carried through into the daylight.
As I neared the top of Col de Chassoure (2743m), Tim Wiggins caught up with me, and it was extremely uplifting to spend some time chatting with him as we moved towards Lourtier aid station. The human contact and lack of isolation gave me a new lease of life, and I skipped the sleeping option at Lourtier, overtaking Luca to stick with Tim, believing I might be OK to get to Salvan Lifebase (still 57km away). We set off on the incredibly steep climb to Cabane Brunet aid station but unfortunately lost the flags, and the route was wildly different from the GPX. We eventually arrived at a road and were told by volunteers to continue upwards, assuring us that the flags would reappear (they didnāt). After wasting at least 30ā45 minutes, Tim and I decided to work out our own route up the mountain, following the āBergwanderwegā Swiss white and red hiking markers we had seen throughout the route, realising they would also lead us to Cabane Brunet. After the stress of losing the route and time, we left Cabane Brunet. Again, there was a bed, but I decided to carry on with Tim. But this time, as with the Belgian guys, tiredness hit me, and I started to feel the cold, so I had to put on extra layers while Tim began to disappear over the horizon.
At this point, Jonas, a German runner, caught up with me. He was concerned with how little sleep Iād had, warning me it was dangerous. I told him that by hook or by crook, I had to sleep at Prassurny aid station, and if there were no beds, I was doomed. The long, hard descent to Prassurny seemed to take forever. When we arrived in the town, the flags seemed to disappear again, with the GPX being different once more. A combination of GPX and flags took me and Jonas to the aid station at around 9 p.m., where Jonas, who had arrived a few minutes earlier, greeted me with āThey have beds.ā He told me he had slept well but was going to stay until 3:45 a.m., and I said Iād do the same after eating turkey breast with coconut polenta. One of the volunteers managing the beds agreed to wake me at 3:45 a.m., but I got a tap on the shoulder at 2 a.m., which I surmised was due to the queue of slumped, tired bodies in the eating area who needed the bed. That said, I had slept (despite the snoring) from 9:30 p.m. until 2 a.m., and felt like a new person. Jonas had already left (he told me later at Salvan that he hadnāt been able to sleep there). I had another portion of turkey breast and coconut polenta before stepping out into the dark and torrential rain, heading towards Chapex de Lac, a town I knew well from UTMB (though Iāve yet to see it in daylight). After a few kilometres, I realised the flags were leading us in the opposite direction to the GPX. I assumed this must be due to the weather, but again, it would have been nice if this had been communicated via text or even verbally. I recognised some of the terrain via Bovine etc. as it was effectively the UTMB route to Col de la Forclaz. Despite the route change, it was still a monster section in the rain, with around 2000m of ascent followed by a big, muddy, and slippery descent to the rustic aid station at Forclaz. There were numerous home-cooked delicacies on offer here, and a few people I had been around who were struggling with the heavy rain and fatigue were uplifted by the variety of homemade food. Luca was there again, entertaining everyone, leaving and immediately returning due to the horrendous rainfall. Being English and used to the rain, I stepped out into it for the climb to Mont de lāApille (2053m) and the long descent down to Lifebase 5 at Salvan (287.3km) for a morning arrival, and much relief knowing I had completed the longest and hardest section of the race. After a shower and fresh clothes, I went for another sports massage and saw the podiatrist. The steep, muddy, and slippery conditions were really starting to take their toll, so the treatment of blisters and taping service on offer here was crucial.
Salvan felt like entering a huge vault with safe doors. There were numerous bunks, making it a great place to rest. I lay down for an hour and a half, and I think I got around 45 minutes of proper sleep. I had some pasta with beef bolognese and set off back into the rain in the early afternoon. One of the French runners who had been struggling on the climb to Forclaz, when he told me he had hit a low point, mentioned that the route had been altered on the next section due to the weather. Apparently, they were informing participants verbally, but this wasnāt being relayed to non-French speakers. Nevertheless, I set off on the alternative route, which was effectively a huge staircase cut up a waterfall, almost leading directly to the checkpoint at Salanfe (1933m). As I progressed, I caught up with a local Swiss participant who had managed to borrow a waterproof jacket from a campsite after forgetting to take his from the Lifebase. Upon arrival at Salanfe, it was a relief to step into a warm environment, where we could hang up our rain gear for a spell and get dry while enjoying some good quality food. I learned that the final aid station at Chaux Palin didnāt exist, and there were no sleeping options at Balme (the next aid station). Salanfe was the best place for rest if needed, but after Prassurny and Salvan, I felt I could continue. I put on my still-soaked rain gear and set off alone towards Col de Susanfe (2493m), which is when I left the WhatsApp message to club members.
This part of the course was particularly stunning, featuring some via ferrata on both the ascent and descent, along with snow accumulation. It started to get dark as I began the long descent, firstly down the via ferrata (which I enjoyed), but then onto steep, muddy, off-camber trails, which had become like torrents in the rain. I could feel my feet being destroyed as I braked in the ankle-deep mud. The last few kilometres towards Morgins Lifebase were hard work and painful on my feet. The sleep gauge was low again, and although I wasnāt at the Prassurny level of tiredness, my blisters had now become my primary issue. A few kilometres from Morgins, I noticed a car stopped on the road. A woman approached, asking for help, wanting the Swiss Peaks emergency number. My phone was so wet that I couldnāt get the touchscreen to work properly, but I downloaded the SOS app onto her phone so she could call race HQ. Her friend had stopped on the tracker, and she had driven with another man to his location, finding him asleep at the side of the road. They put him in the car and drove to Morgins, which she informed me was close by. I arrived at around 3:30 a.m. The woman thanked me again and asked if she could help me, but I told her I just needed sleep.
The lifebase was great as I had my own room in a hotel. Before going to bed, I bumped into Tim, who was getting ready to head out again. He looked exhausted but told me he just wanted to get it over and done with. When I saw him at the end, he told me heād completed the last stretch with headphones blasting out āWhatās the Story Morning Gloryā for motivation. There was no bedding, but I got into my liner and lay down. However, I couldnāt get comfortable due to the cold and the fact Iād spent nearly 24 hours in heavy rain. I had to get up and put on my down jacket and any dry clothes I still had. By this stage, I had a bag full of sweat-drenched, muddy clothes and destroyed, soaked, muddy shoes, so I didn’t have much left for comfort.
I woke up around 7.30am, but at least half of that time, if not more, Iād been too cold to sleep. Still, it was an improvement on Thyon, Einstein, and some other places where Iād attempted to sleep. Lying down on my own for 4 hours definitely helped though. When I woke up, I couldnāt flex my right ankle properly due to the braking and the blisters on the slippery, muddy descents. The physio was excellent and gave a new lease of life to my ankle. He was from Italy and told me he loved Scotland, adding that the issue was, “396km is just too much”. š The podiatrist also fixed my feet, treated the infected blisters, and taped my feet again.
I had some breakfast and saw Guillaume again before putting on my muddy, soaked shoes and setting off for the final leg. It was 42km and 2500m, which, as my perspective had shifted so much, Iād convinced myself it was not too far. Right from the start, I knew it would be a death march. I practiced focusing on the scenery, on my breathāanything to distract myself from the pain. āPositive thoughts,ā said the woman Iād helped the night before as I left Morgins.
DCIM100GOPROGOPR0074.JPG
The views on the final day were superb, with clouds sitting in the valley as I climbed towards āTour de Donā (1998m). Shortly after that, I got my first view of Lake Geneva. “From the mountains to the lake,” the slogan of the race went through my head. The aid stations had amazing food and music, and the closer I got to the end, the better the atmosphere became.
Between the aid stations at Chalet de Blansex and Taney, I teamed up with Ayako, who was the 5th place woman. She didnāt speak French or English, so it was an opportunity for me to practice my Japanese. Focusing on speaking in Japanese helped distract me from the pain. Once again, it makes a huge difference when you have a bit of company for a spell. Ayako was taking pictures and told me she was sad this might be the last time she would ever see these places and views. She also told me her friend Junko, who she had teamed up with for the PTL in 2023, was the 2nd place woman in the 360. There was a huge Japanese contingent on the 660 and 360 races. One guy I chatted to on the train told me he had done the TOR seven times; so Ultra long Ultras are definitely appealing to Japanese runners.
Not long to go now. Three of the French runners left the aid station before me and Guillaume, and we moved slowly, winding our way up and down through the forest tracks. Lake Geneva was getting closer š. As we approached the last 5km, I said to Guillaume, āCancel out the pain, positive thoughts, focus on getting to Le Bouveret as quickly as possible.ā I started to run fast with Guillaume behind me. I was reading my watch, shouting, ā4km to goā¦ 3.5km to goā¦ 2km to goā¦ 0.5km to go.ā I overtook the three French guys but noticed Guillaume wasnāt behind me, so I pressed on. I reached the harbour, close to the finish, and could hear the cheers and musicāa return to normality. As I crossed the finish line to sparks and cheers, the first person I spoke to was Luca Papi, whoād finished shortly before, and he congratulated me.
I welcomed the beer, having enjoyed a few non-alcoholic ones at aid stations, but this was the real thing. I was too exhausted to hang around, though. The final challenge was finding the bags, showers, and dorms, as there were no signs or maps explaining where to go, and it was at the other side of Le Bouveret. Eventually, I located my bags at the infamous āBunkerāāthink sleeping in the āBangkok Hiltonā (not the hotel varietyš ). When I fell asleep on a bunk, it wasnāt too busy, but when I woke up in the early hours, there were bags and bodies everywhere. As I went to the toilet, people were strewn across the floor in the sink and table areas with bags and equipment, and litter covered every inch of space. Someone asked me if they could take my space, and I said, āI was just going to the toilet.ā
I spent two nights here, with the second night being marginally less busy, but it was an absolute dump by Sunday morning, and I couldnāt wait to get out. On Sunday night, someone grabbed hold of my ankle instead of the mattress they wanted to drag off the bunkācould have ended badly as I woke up with a shock š. All the shorter race runners had also showered there, and it was pretty grim (as I say, the final challenge).
Luckily, on Saturday, I had a nice post-race meal at a restaurant on the harbour (included in the entry fee). I sat in the sun, soaking up the atmosphere, and beer seemed to be a free-for-all until around 5pm, when I was told they would only give beer and food to people finishing the race on Saturday. I watched Courtney Dewaulter come in on the 70km and congratulated her as she walked past the adoring crowds. I had a massage and saw the podiatrist, who told me to keep my feet dry as I had infected blisters, so I avoided a swim in the lake and the shower in the bunker, which I guessed was even worse.
I honestly cannot thank the physios and podiatrists enough; they truly were best in class and helped so many people finish. The podiatrist told me the third-place woman in the 360 had infected wrecked feet but had decided to run the marathon. 200-mile-plus runners definitely are a unique breedš .
As Sunday came, I dragged all my stuff outside into the quadrangle as I didnāt want to pack inside the bunker. My bag was full of sweat-drenched, muddy clothesāit truly was horrible. I went to the awards ceremony, which started with the local dance groups performing, followed by an amazing ceremony celebrating the 660 and 360 finishers, where prizes were given and everyone was put on the podium to receive their medal and a special finisherās Compressport windproof. All the other distances received their rewards at the finish, but it was a nice touch to reward us in this special way.
The ceremony lasted around two hours, and in the middle of it, we witnessed a sprint finish between first and second place in the half marathon, who crossed the line in the midst of the celebrations. It was great to see so many faces Iād met before and during the race, like Guillaume, Jean Baptiste, Liz Hopkins (who told me Courtney had offered her encouragement when she was struggling), Luca, Ayako, Junko, Sebastian, and Maxim, and many others. Sebastian and Maxim said they were worried about me when they left me after Jungu. I took some pictures of them with their winning Duo trophy.
Then it was time for the train journey back to Geneva Airport and a return to normality. I celebrated at the āLa Goudale Barā near the hotel, and the next day, I returned home with great memories and a life experience Iāll never forget. Finishing a race like this isnāt about time or position, and with more than 50% DNFāing out of one of the strongest fields Iāve been involved in, I congratulate anyone who finished either the 660 or 360 (actually 396.91km, 28168m). Iāll always remember the people I spent time with. Iāve been in contact with a few since, and Tim Wiggins, who is a Lake District challenge aficionado, has offered to help put together a Bob Graham Round team for me next year. Itās one of the toughest mountain races in the world, so Iām truly grateful to have finished it and those that did it with me will remain comrades.
Whatās next? Well, Iām doing UTS 100km and signed up for Lakeland 100 during Swiss Peaks . As I didnāt want to spend time on the form for relevant experience, I wrote āSwiss Peaks 360 – in progressāš. In the realm of 200+ milers; āWell, if anyone in the club is interested and serious about the āPTLā next August, please get in touch (it needs to be a team of 2 or 3, and itās hard š).
If anyone wants to know more about Swiss Peaks, Alpine ultras, or ultras in general, then please get in touch, and Iāll be happy to advise and help: gavinpeach@aol.com. Also, I will be editing a video of the vlogs I made during the event itself (watch this space).
I hope to see you all soon, and fingers crossed Iāll have shaken off this cold and be ready for Congleton Half Marathon; Iām not expecting to pull up any trees. Thank you to everyone for tracking me and your supportāit means a lot, especially when you are in the thick of it and the climbs and descents keep coming at you like waves.
Also,if there is one word I associate with this race, which I heard more than any other it is āDormirāš. And for the last 2 weeks thatās exactly what Iāve been doing š.
Finally thank you sincerely to the Organisers, volunteers, physios, podiatrists, and fellow runners who helped make this 2 year project become a reality. It was significantly the hardest race and most difficult week Iāve ever had both mentally and physically, but also the most rewarding.I will be forever indebted to you all.
South Manchester LDWA is a large group with more than 200 members. The organisation of the Goyt Valley Challenge was passed over to our close neighbours High Peak LDWA some years ago and, although we are active in helping out with this, creating and organising our own event once more was something the committee thought would be very worthwhile.
I volunteered to coordinate the project and our starting point was a 24-mile route planned by Dave Gosling which starts and finishes in Marple. Having secured a grant from the LDWA for purchasing essential equipment, we began to work on finessing the route and timing system. Entries opened on SI entries in April.
The 24-mile route passes over Werneth Low, Cown Edge, Lantern Pike and Chinley Churn before returning to Marple via New Mills. The 19-mile option cuts off after Cown Edge via Rowarth. There is over 4000ft of elevation in the long route, presenting a real challenge to walkers to complete within the 10-hour limit. In addition, there will be self-clips at some Peak and Northern Footpaths signs along the way to test route finding skills.
The views along the way are amazing: from the Manchester skyline to Kinder and the Dark Peak, showcasing the best that the area has to offer. In addition, the route passes areas of industrial heritage in Broadbottom and New Mills and traverses the stunning Millenium Walkway.
There are 4 outdoor checkpoints with drinks and snacks; tea, coffee and pastries at the start and a hot pot meal at the finish.
It was July 2023 and I was umming and ahhing over whether to enter one of the Spine races. The Sprint caught my eye, but it was “only” 46 miles up the Pennine Way from Edale, and I wanted to try something I genuinely wasn’t sure I could finish. It didn’t take much of a nudge from my lovely (mischievous?) Goyt Valley Striders running friends to go for it – if they thought I could do it then why not? What’s “it” I hear you say? The small matter of a 109 mile race to the unassuming hamlet of Hardraw from Edale – the southern “half” of the Pennine Way. The Spine Challenger South. This would be my first official ultra and I wasn’t sure they’d let me in…but sure enough, a confirmation email came through that afternoon and the butterflies assembled in the pit of my stomach. Too late to back out now. In hindsight there are probably less extreme ways to get some time out from the madness of work and family life!
Roll on a little under 12 months and I’ve dug my husband Chris and our two children Arlo (6) and Georgina (3) out of bed at 5:30 to drive the short hop to Edale for the start of the race. I thought I was a bit less nervous having already received the Lindley stamp of approval at kit check and handed over my drop bag the afternoon before. Two pre-race wees said otherwise. I marvelled at the range of rucksacks and race vests on display, some so light I mistakenly thought some runners had already arrived for the Sprint race starting later in the day. I was happy with my 5.5 kilos, although hoping that my choice of leggings and long sleeves would eventually be vindicated as we enjoyed some fabulous morning sunshine.
The Lindley stamp of approval
At the race start in Edale on the 15 June
Arlo and Georgina waiting to see me off
I wouldn’t say my training for this race had been straightforward. I’d never had any running injuries to this point but the volume of miles took their toll, and a recce of Pen Y Ghent at Easter gave me my first taste of IT Band Syndrome. So much for bombing down the hills. I’d also had sinus infections through the winter and surgery on my nose in April to try and fix the problem once and for all. My body had had enough and the week before the race all I could think of was how nice it would be to have a glorious lie in on the Saturday morning. There had been some highs, such as the sparkly snow day I ran from Marsden to Hebden, and the weekend I nearly broke my running buddies over Bronte country to Gargrave, but when the countdown finally ended and we were off I couldn’t have been more relieved. My main goal was to finish the race in time for tea and bed on Sunday evening. But my initial goal was to get through Torside and Laddow rocks with my legs unscathed and then see what was possible. Given how the last two months of training had gone I had no idea if this was even achievable.
A very sparkly Standedge, 17 January 2024
The first 10 Miles of the Pennine Way were very familiar to me, so I said hello to all my favourite rocks up on Kinder and tried to preserve my glutes having locked them up on the same stretch only a month before. I was firmly enjoying myself until we got to Torside when the rain started to fall, and my IT Band decided to say hello. It was a shame not to be able to let loose down the descents but it also wasn’t a problem yet. Laddow Rocks was a long old haul, and two slices of pizza later I began to get my rhythm back approaching Black Hill. My race very nearly ended right here though when my left leg disappeared up to my knee between two flagstones. Some four letter words may have been audible as the curlews scattered. My leg was still functional and an inspection of the damage would need to wait until Hebden Hey. Approaching the A635 I briefly contemplated a stop at the drinks van but a queue was forming and there was now so much water pouring off the hill that I decided it was a waste of both time and money. I did have to pick up some peaty run-off at Wessenden to top up my water supplies (I carried 800ml water with a filter and Aquatabs), but the lovely MRT guys at Standedge swapped it for drinking water before I needed a swig. Next stop: Nicky’s food bar where I had preordered veggie pasta.
Leg preservation on Jacob’s Ladder..
A fellow running friend who was also preparing to start the big race (full Spine) the following day had described the Challenger South as 5 meals out with a bit of running in between! Well this was meal #1, and what a surprise awaited me when I got there. My two wonderful friends Jenny (aka The Wren) Hutton and Claire Elsworth were dancing up and down waiting for me at the road junction. Best. Surprise. Ever. After a quick check with the Spine official I went in for full hugs. Happiness in spades. I sat down in the little oasis that is Nicky’s (a shipping container humming with food and grateful runners) and enjoyed some conversation with my fellow race “competitors” for the first time. The ice was well and truly broken as we dried off and refuelled. After a second helping of hugs I was on my way again buoyed all the way to Hebden by that wonderful surprise!
I was 8 or so hours in and my legs felt good as I caught up with Helen Williams at Blackstone Reservoirs. We had been crossing paths since Torside and so we enjoyed some sociable miles in the early evening sunshine. I left Helen as we caught our first glimpse of Stoodley Pike peering over the horizon. Hebden Bridge was not far off. But I had been warned by Chris Tetley (a fellow Spine Challenger finisher) of the 4 miles to Hebden Hey. I enjoyed a fast descent down the track to the main road giving my watch it’s first charge on the go. Matched on the other side by an equally slow crawl up slimy cobbles on the narrowist of “paths”. Little did I know that the Pennine Way would stretch that definition to the max before Check Point 1. Think slimy stones embedded in slick mud squeezed between walls overgrown with vegetation and you’re getting somewhere close. Throw in a couple of poles, a bulky race vest and legs that have already seen 40 odd miles and it was just as well I didn’t have a swear box. Fortunately the Pennine Way cannot be blamed for the descent into Hebden Hey (dubbed “Hebden Hole”). I’m pretty sure this section has swallowed a few runners! 12 and a half hours done and Leg 1 was in the bag. Time for a shower and a change.
Stil looking fresh at Snake Pass, Leg 1
I’d planned a 2-hour stop at Hebden to take a proper rest not knowing how tired I would be. There’s still 64 miles to go at this stage, way further than I had ever run. There were only about 3 other runners there when I arrived to a warm welcome and a roaring fire. I attempted to eat but had an altitude moment. Stomach wasn’t having any of it. In the end I managed some miso soup, yoghurt, crisps, cola and a choc pot. Having washed all the mud and sweat off in a gloriously hot shower and treated myself to a full change of clothes and shoes, I was ready to get stuck in again.
It was just getting dark as I left, a beautiful clear dry and cool night ahead. Helen Williams left the checkpoint with me and I caught Kate Simpson up as she made a call home on the road back to the Pennine Way. Kate and I grouped up as we approached the moors above Gorples Reservoir and headed up through Bronte country. I had decided to walk through the night to give my stomach a rest but we both felt good and really got a move on past Top Withens and the half-way point. I stopped to preempt a blister, and then left Helen and Kate behind as I headed towards Ponden. I thought of them both as I nipped over a wall and dropped into a field before the steep climb up over to Ickornshaw. When I looked up I was greeted by the largest horns I’ve ever seen on a set of cattle. “Just coming through” I half whispered as I tiptoed past the snoring beasts!
Ickornshaw Moor was wonderful until the last section of descent where it can only really be described as “bog-slide”. I still felt great and chuckled at the cheeky signs that had been attached to the gates to get us through this middle part of the race: “Remember, you paid for this” and “Jasmin was probably in Hawes by now”. I was happy, I was approaching Cowling where the tri club had set up an unofficial checkpoint when I was greeted by friendly torchlight and escorted to a very cosy seat in a large tent and discovered I was actually hungry! The walk had done the trick and a very happy stomach said hello to a mushroom roll, some delicious melon and soup. It was only a quick pit stop and as I left Cowling the first inkling of dawn could be seen to the East. I’m coming to terms with the fact that ultra running is definitely a pasttime of deep contrasts. I’ll never forget the beautiful rays of dawn sunshine and curlews over Elsack Moor that morning, nor unfortunately the reaction of my gut to an early breakfast. The race was on: to the next bush! As the wonderful medic explained at CP1.5, with all your oxygen going to your legs, there’s nothing left for digestion, and the body sees to the rest no matter how inconvenient…
The next few miles were uneventful. I made a quick stop at the tuck shop at Thornton-in-Craven for some chocolate milk, and donated some of my race food (which I judged I wouldn’t be able to eat) to save carrying the extra weight. I then headed for Gargrave. The mudfest that I’d dragged my running friends through earlier in the year was mercifully dry but had now become a cowfest. Thankfully, while it felt like midday to me, it was still early morning and the cattle were getting some shut-eye. By this point I was running behind my schedule (although, it’s almost impossible to judge what a 109-mile race schedule should be when the furthest you’ve been is 30 miles). So Gargrave Co-op was on! Hot greasy food beckoned. I had no idea where I was in the race at this point, but it was clear I was far enough down the pecking order for pizza to be off the menu. Cheese and onion lattice it was, and It. Was. Heaven. My water had started tasting bitter on the approach in, and my pain au chocolate had been firmly dispatched to the bin. Freshly cooked crispy fat it turns out, was the answer. Some form of cheese pastry will always have a place in my race vest in future ultras…
Just a 10k to Malham but another race to the loo beckoned. I was in the guts (literally) of the race now. 60-70 miles in and it was beginning to get hard. I needed some water, my feet had swelled and I needed to change socks to reduce the pressure in my shoes. My hands needed a wash, I was hot and sweaty in the sunshine, and well, a “proper” toilet was the order of the day. It wasn’t in my plan to stop in Malham, so I’d keep my friends and family guessing as I took a break and set myself up in the covered picnic area by the public toilets to sort myself out. As I smugly pulled my dry socks on it duly started to rain. Now everyone knows that a rain slicked well-worn limestone pavement is just what you need at 80 miles in! Fortunately for me Rob Hornshaw had caught me up while I was stopped and we walked together over Malham Cove discussing ultras and marvelling at those who take on the 160 mile Challenger North race and the full Spine. It wasn’t long before we were striding out to the medical checkpoint (CP1.5) on the far side of Malham Tarn. I arrived as Allie Bailey was leaving (her book was awaiting me at home) and I was surprised to be in such experienced ultra running company. This was my first inkling that my race wasn’t going too badly. David Keane came flying through the checkpoint as though he was in a different race altogether. My only thought was to wonder where he’d been up to that point! I’ll be forever grateful for the lovely medic with the broken ankle asking me how I was and if I had any problems. I didn’t think much of it at the time but mentioned in passing my gut issues and she suggested some immodium which sorted me out for the rest of the race. I very nearly didn’t take up her offer but as much as I love a scenic loo, I needed to eat and retain the energy for my legs. Also, the organic apple porridge I had just I inhailed was starting to take effect. Very. Good. Decision! I was only in CP1.5 for 12 minutes and left in good spirits. Comin’ attacha’ Fountains Fell!
Now no ultra experience is complete (so I’m told) without the odd hallucination, and not having slept at all, my mind was beginning to play tricks. Did you not know there is a naked man and a snogging couple on the way out of the checkpoint at Malham Tarn? The naked gentleman turned out to be a sculpture of a hare. The couple in an embrace I genuinely have no idea about, only a vague and puzzling recollection that they were there on the previous occasion I had passed through at Easter, having had ample sleep! Random rocks looked like bears and the odd runner but then turned back to rocks upon closer inspection. This continued on until the finish.
Fountains Fell was lovely in training and I had skipped over it in quick time. But after 80 or so miles, the war of attrition between my IT Band and my stash of paracetamol was finally coming to a conclusion. The angle of ascent and descent on Fountains Fell was nothing short of incremental torture and so with some alliteration “F*^%#=* Fountains Fell” was forever renamed! In my mind there was no doubt I was finishing this but I did have to give myself a good talking to as I turned my left ankle over in another bogslide descent. Only two more biggies to go: Pen Y Ghent (also renamed) and the Cam High Road which I was actually looking forward to as it offered the chance to straighten my left leg and stride out the last 15 miles.
The view from Fountains Fell across to Pen Y Ghent at Easter. Neither required renaming at this point!
Rob caught up with me again as I refilled my water at the Ladies Toilets in Horton. We were met by the lovely Spine team there who helped bring the super-soaker tap under sufficient control to avoid donning full waterproofs. Unfortunately this distraction meant I left my new Montane gloves sitting on the window ledge. It was 5 miles up the Cam High Road before I realised. Funnily enough I did not turn back.
15 miles doesn’t sound like much but at the end of a 109 mile race that’s 5 hours of hard graft still to go. It felt unimaginable at this point. So I stopped imagining and just put one foot in front of the other. About an hour up the track the Great British Weather rejoined the party. I added layers and waterproofs, struggling to generate enough speed and heat to remain comfortable. The rain became heavier and the wind picked up so I decided it was time to get the hell out. Rob had dropped behind and I started to get a proper shift on, into a rhythm with my poles. It must have been hours but I disappeared into the howling wind, fog and sideways rain of a Cam High Road timewarp. It didn’t feel like long before the last giant sponge of Ten End loomed and I was finally headed down into Hawes; but not without some comedy moves to remain upright I should add. Bog? What bog…?
I was racing the dusk at this stage and was very happy to spy a lone umbrella waving at me from the road – my husband Chris who had decided against surprising me on the Cam High Road (good decision) had managed an intercept. We chatted as I marched on, and I was forced to take the only detour of the entire race as a field of very boisterous bullocks (try saying that after a few) blocked the route to the houses on the edge of Hawes. No way was my race ending in a trample 2 miles from the end! Having recce’d this section it was easy enough to skirt round the houses and rejoin the Pennine Way from the road. Chris left me to scoot off to the finish line while I knocked out the last two miles – the only section I hadn’t recce’d. At this point my watch had run out of battery, my charger was dead, and my phone decided this was the moment to run out of juice. No GPS track. I thought of asking at the campsite for directions, then realised no one would have a clue about 150 mad runners incoming to Hardraw in the half light. If you were wondering why I meandered off-route so close to the end, this is why. However, I was lucky that I’d traced the route on the map and talked it through several times with Chris Tetley only a few weeks before, so in the darkness, from memory I found my way; Chris’s words echoing in my brain at each path junction.
Now, I was pretty convinced my body was no longer capable of running having tested this on several occasions at around the 70-mile mark. But it’s amazing what it can do knowing the end is in sight. I’m sure this is adrenaline, but the last mile felt like the first, running freely to the lights of the campground in Hardraw. I was ecstatic to see the official arrows pointing me in the right direction. Without the security of the GPS track on my wrist it felt like I’d found a needle in the proverbial haystack. One last “sprint” and I did a finishing twirl across the line. At points in the race I’d thought I’d just cry at the finish, but I simply felt happy, strong and unbroken as I received my medal. I was unprepared for the finish line interview however, and struggled to marshal any thoughts on what the “good bits” of the weekend were after just sliding off Ten End after 5 hours in the godforsaken “British Weather”. My only thought was to get some dry clothes on…and then my stomach rumbled!
Over the finish line! I’m clearly relieved!
Two final surprises remained, the Check Point 2 team presented me with a printout of all the amazing messages friends and family had sent me along the route via the tracking system. It stretched from my shoulder all the way to the floor. I was gobsmacked. This was the most wonderful thing and something I’ll treasure forever. The second surprise was that only 25 people had finished ahead of me, and only 6 of them women. Unbeknownst to me as I racked up the miles I’d managed to produce a Top 10 finish in my first ultra in a time of 38 hours and 36 minutes… A marvellous bowl of chill, followed by cake and custard was duly dispatched: I had made it in time for “tea” and a very comfortable hotel bed in Hawes.
Friday, 21st June was a glorious day. Before getting in the car to Snowdonia, I was enjoying the rarity of UK summer sunshine. When I arrived at the campsite in Rhyd Ddu, it was quite different: overcast, misty, and windy, with the threat of heavy rain on the horizon. After quickly registering, I opted to put the seats down and sleep in the back of the car rather than in the tent. It was an uncomfortable night, with continuous rain hammering down and midges infiltrating the vehicle.
At 4:45 am, I got up and had breakfast, which ended up being cold pasta from the night before, along with an electrolyte drink and a banana. I wanted to have a decent amount of food well before the race start as I knew there were only two aid stations en route, and I only intended to quickly snack at those.
At 6 am, we boarded the coaches that took us to Aber Distillery, where everyone waited for the race to begin. The start was delayed by four minutes because two people had turned up at the distillery who hadnāt registered. Michael, the organiser, explained that they wouldnāt be able to start because all the trackers and numbers were at the Race HQ.
The race began at quite a fast pace on the roads out of Abergwyngregyn as we wound our way up the mountain towards Foel Fras (the first peak of the day at 942m). Following this, we progressed to Foel Grach (976m), bypassing Carnedd Gwenllian (926m), which has now been added to the ā15 Peaksā variation but wasnāt part of this race. I felt like I was moving well, and there was a group of us in close proximity (even if we couldnāt see each other well) as we progressed to the peaks of Foel Grach (976m), Carnedd Llewelyn (1064m), Yr Elen (962m), Carnedd Dafydd (1044m), and Pen yr Ole Wen (978m) before descending to the road and the first checkpoint underneath Tryfan. The weather on the first leg was warm in the valleys but breezy up high, with poor visibility until the final stretch.
I filled up my water bottles, had a drink, and ate a Voom Power Bar at the aid station before beginning the climb up Tryfan north ridge. It was warm at this stage, and the sun was out as we started the steep scramble up Tryfan, which I knew would be one of the tough sections. Whilst progressing up the ridge, I was passed by Mark Darbyshire and Ifan Oldfield, who were leading the way in the Snowdon Skyrace with the eventual winner, Alex Hill, hot on their heels. After summiting Tryfan (917m), we made the steep descent and started the climb up towards Glyder Fach (994m) before progressing onto Glyder Fawr (1001m), Y Garn (947m), and Elidir Fawr (923m). The Glyders were foggy for the most part, but with some good visibility when the clag dissipated. The group Iād been with for most of the race was largely in close proximity, but it was often difficult to see others due to the poor visibility. This is a long leg (harder than the first leg) and, for me, the crux of the race. Once I arrived at Nant Peris Checkpoint, I ventured over to the campsite toilets and seemed to have lost a few places as people I was ahead of must have leapfrogged me. But needs must.
The next section is 2 km of road through the Llanberis Pass before venturing up Cwm Glas Mawr and winding its way up the steep slopes to the final steep scree approach to Crib Goch (921m). This was a tough climb as the heat of the day had kicked in and a lot had been done by this point. I was pleased to get onto the ridge and made quick progress, passing lots of runners and tourists. My rock climbing experience definitely helps me on these sections as they donāt faze me, and I can enjoy them more. The different kind of movement offers a bit of respite from the running too. As we progressed across the ridge, it wasnāt long before we arrived on Garnedd Ugain (1065m) before heading to the final out and back to Yr Wyddfa (1085m), which was as busy as ever (visibility was poor again at this stage). The final descent down the Ranger path before breaking off down towards the Race HQ was fast, and I was able to come in and finish in 9 hours, 50 minutes, and 42 seconds, 23rd place out of 179 and 6th in the M40-44 age group.
I received my wooden medal, a bottle of beer, and a chilli baked potato and chatted with Tinka Vinks, whoād finished 2nd Lady a few minutes before me. As Iād got back reasonably early, I opted to drive back with a nice hot shower and bed being more appealing than midges and another night in the car. All in all, a great race that Iād highly recommend. My final Strava report recorded 53.83 km and 4305 m, which is more great mileage and elevation after completing UTS 100 Mile last month. Next month, Iāll be doing the Helvellyn Sky Race with the ultimate challenge coming on 1st September in Swiss Peaks 360k.
Saturday morning, and 90 runners are staring up a steep earth bank, through trees and bracken. Looking for all the world like a bunch of 10 year olds who have just lost a cricket ball. Theyre actually just mentally picking a scrambling path through the scrub, but you can only see the bottom 10yds so its fairly pointless in fact. Itās the renowned Mt Famine race start. The 2nd race in the Hayfield three days in May Following, the evening before, Hayfield May Queen (started by the actual May Queen), and followed by the Lantern Pike Dash on Sunday, named after the Lantern Pike pub. Or possibly the hill.
Always a sucker for a bit of novelty, this year I thought Iād give the triple a go. All these have featured in GVS champs recently, so theyād already be familiar to most. Its only about 10 miles in total but feels like more. The weather all weekend was *fantastic*.
So! May Queen; this year was on the GVS summer fell list so there was a sprinkling of club turnout. I noticed on my warm up that there was a narrow bridge after about a kilometre so I was determined to get there before the bottleneck started. You can always get your breath back going single file up through the woods. I know the top bit of the hill well but thereās no good way to run down the Pike. I think I made 5th GVS back. A prize for Anna Aspinall (2nd F40), and 7th for William Aspinall of this parish. Full GVS listing below.
Then Saturday, Mt Famine and that start. Itās the start that people talk about but itās the turnaround that does the damage. The route passes Mt Famine onto South Head then inexplicably down Dimpus Clough, a 200m drop, only to clamber back up to Mt Famine again. I did this race last year on fresh legs and really felt the difference. Yet again I despair of the numbers of runners who cruise past me on the steep down. Tell them to stop it. Reaching the top again, I heard the marshallās radio that the leaders had just finished. Hhmm.
The final offroad section is a very rocky path that I can suddenly remember tripping over on 5 years ago. āSlowing down a bit to be carefulā is not a phrase banded about by the hard core, but Iāll live with it. Then the usual Hayfield race ending, finish through the playground.
So thatās the main event done.
Last lap. Sunday 11am Lantern Pike pub in Little Hayfield. You can just about see all the 1k up-1k down course from the start; the entire East side of the Pike (hill not pub). Isnt there a long and honourable race tradition of pub-hill-pub events?. Again thereās an initial dash to get through a gate in the first field, fording an ankle high stream, bit of upward zigzag then its just bilberries and heather all the way up. The leaders come down the same route but I didnāt stop to watch them. Turning round the trig point, I did briefly think āno more climbing for me this weekendā. But as we know, down can be harder than up sometimes. Some people I recognised from Saturday shot past on the down again. My Garmin has it at 2k total distance and 185m climb.
I hung around for the results, well, just because. 50 people turned out for what must be one of the shortest races in the calendar. There were 23 completed the Three Days, I came 10th, and walked away with a bottle of beer. Cheers Pennine.
Itās a fun challenge, a nice thing to say youāve completed, with a great atmosphere at all three.
May Queen GVS finishing places. Fridayās fun.
10 Thomas Penn 24 Wayne Grant 28 Kevin Verdam 34 Anna Aspinall 38 Matt Biglin 47 Lauren Hogarth 56 Brian Holland 57 Eddy Webb 70 Anna Manley 72 Mary Jones 74 Kieran Smallbone
Example Races:
