Spineless

I just got home from the Spine Race after dropping out just a few miles from the start.

I had thought about the race all last year. I got as much information as I could, read all the blogs, tested all my kit and reccied 80% of the course, often in pretty testing conditions. I enjoyed all this and was looking forward to the race.

On the day of the start, I didn't have the same anticipation of an adventure about to start that I usually do with a big event. The weather was benign by Spine standards; a bit of rain to start then two or three hours of dry, later a couple of hours with heavy rain showers and a chill but not excessive wind. The ground underfoot was quite testing, lots of boggy ground and mud which made uncertain sliding a constant threat and going downhill over pasture land tricky enough, but again, the regulars get this every year and I knew what I was getting into.

Once we got started I progressed well enough. I kept a pace that I was comfortable with, ate and drank plenty, and stayed warm and dry. I didn't make any navigational errors and eventually wound up at the first checkpoint at Hebden Bridge, 45 miles from the start, in seventeen and a half hours  -  a couple of hours slower than I would have guessed probably due to slow careful progress on the muddy downhills but certainly good enough to be comfortable for the exit cutoff of 24 hours. I checked in, had a shower and cleaned up my feet, no blisters or other significant damage, tea and a big bowl of chilli then slept for a couple of hours or so.

Half way through repacking my bag for the next leg, a sudden realisation hit me hard. I was doing this and I was doing ok but I just wasn't enjoying it.  I was going to go on not enjoying it for the next six days and I didn't want the end result badly enough for that. My head simply wasn't in the right place.

So I stopped. I won't go again.

Just before the M62 crossing

Review of 2015

Well all my good intentions of managing at least two posts a month for the year went out of the window in December. A couple of excuses, possibly even reasons, but things sort of got in the way both physically and mentally.

I had intended to complete my running year with the Dorset Coast trail marathon in early December but three weeks earlier I tweaked a calf muscle; on top of previous experience in this area and having already had a pretty full year I decided to play safe. I carried on walking but avoided running for three weeks and so missed out on Dorset, making a total score of one DNS, one DNF and eleven completions over my thirteen (maybe that was the problem) planned events for the year. I don't write about DNS's or DNF's nowadays unless there's something worthwhile to learn from them, so this one just contributed a bit of a hole in the plan.

Then later in the month storm Desmond got to our holiday home in Keswick and left it a bit wet. It's neither our main residence nor our business, so our slight misfortune in no way compares with those who lost either or both, but it still brought its share of disruption and distraction to normal life. We're hoping to be back in action there by around the start of March.

So, back to the year just gone. 

Overall

In terms of statistics I'm struggling a bit to find anything meaningful. I've carried on recording all my outings but I'm spending more time hillwalking and less running these days and it's sometimes difficult to distinguish which is which. Clearly a trip round the local roads at even 9 minute miles is a genuine run, and putting your boots on for a hike up Scafell Pike with no intention of breaking into a jog is a walk. But how about when you go out for 20 miles and run the flats and downs but walk the ups? Or when you walk the flats and ups but run the downs? Probably, none of this matters, but in lumping all the statistics into one pot for last year I think I'm missing something and I need to think of a better system for 2016. Anyway, putting everything together, during 2015 I covered a few miles short of 2500 miles with a total ascent of 340,000ft  - enough to get me out of the house regularly whichever way you look at it.

Events 

I completed the following events during the year:

Anglesey Coast Ultra (33m) 7:36:27

South Devon Coast Ultra (35m) 6:53:14

Belvoir Challenge (26m) 4:37:12

Hardmoors 55 (55m) 12:11:45

Highland Fling (53m) 10:53:15

Keswick Festival Ultra (32m) 6:58:07

Pennine 39 (37m) 8:33:00

Ring of Fire (135m) 36:12:05

Hardmoors 60 (62m) 15:09:30

Lakes in A Day (50m) 15:38:32

White Rose Ultra (30m) 5:47:00

I took the first three events pretty slowly as I was still conscious of the injury problems from 2014. Of the others, the ones that I was pleased with were the Festival Ultra (only 32 miles but a fairly rugged course) and the Ring of Fire, where I finished fairly well up in what is regarded generally as a fairly tough event.

On all the others I had the impression that I was an hour or so off the pace that I would have expected a couple of years or earlier.  Whether this is still coming back slowly from 2014, pacing my races so that they feel more comfortable (I finished all of them in relatively good shape, keeping hydrated and fuelled throughout), or just the effect of increasing age, I'm not sure. 2016 should help to complete the picture.

My big disappointment was a DNF in the Dragon's Back (200m) which was my main target for the year. I simply wasn't fit enough to complete each day comfortably in a time to beat the cut-offs. More of this a bit further on. A DNS in the Dorset Coast trail marathon (27m) was a judgement call; with a fairly minor injury I could have gone but it might have compromised the run-up to 2016 so I wasn't too bothered about missing it.

Injuries and Recovery

Ever since the long-term calf injury back in 2014 I had been very nervous about pushing the pace too hard. Consequently during the first half of 2015 I did almost no speed training and very little running at even a steady pace. I did a lot of long slow runs and had become a long slow runner. My problem was that a bit of speed, or even pushing a steep ascent at a jog or fast walk, seemed to give some calf discomfort. So although I did a lot of miles (and enjoyed them) I didn't push hard enough to get any real training other than "time on the feet". I think this was the principal reason for poor my Dragon's Back performance.

The Dragon's Back, in spite of being a failure, at least helped to change this situation. I came back after well over a hundred miles and around 35,000ft of ascent over rocks, boulders, grass and bog with no muscle pains at all. I finally came to the conclusion that the recurring calf pain was in my head. Since then I've started to make progress, but after effectively just short of two years taking it easy I was starting from a low base. I still get the odd problem if I push too hard - only on Christmas Eve I came back with a slight glute pull after 6 miles at just under 8 minute mile pace, but I think I'm starting to get there, and as I said earlier 2016 will hopefully confirm this.

So overall, a pretty sound if unspectacular year. I'm looking forward to 2016!

How do you like the Hills?

I was looking at some Spine Race statistics the other way and was quite surprised to see that over its length it accummulates some 37,000ft of ascent. Now the Pennine Way is in many respects quite a challenging trail regardless of the weather conditions (lots of wet ground, path indistinct in places, often a long way between contacts with civilisation, etc) but I think you'd have to stretch a point quite a distance to describe it as hilly. But it's a long way, so if you imagine some sort of measure of ascent per mile it probably wouldn't score very highly. This thought got me interested, so I worked out a "rate of climb" for a number of events that I have an interest in, to see how they compare.

To get the rate of climb, I have divided the total ascent by half the distance of the race (on the basis that most races have a similar amount of ascent and descent), expressed as a percentage. So if the race has a 5% rate of climb, you will on average be going up a 1 in 20 hill for half the distance, and down a 1 in 20 for the other half. The races I've chosen are a purely personal selection, comprising many that I've done or attempted, and some I might have a go at one day.

Now as I've said before, how difficult an event is to finish depends on a lot more than just its length and steepness  -   ground underfoot, difficulty of navigation, likely weather conditions and particularly the time constraints imposed by the organiser all play a part. But if you want to compare the simple physical characteristics of the undertaking, then I think the table below can give some pointers.

Race                          Length (miles)    Total Climb (ft)     Rate of climb (%)

The Spine                       268                          37000                       5
Tor des Geants               206                           78700                     14 
PTL                                187                           91800                     19
Dragon's Back                 182                           51400                     11
Ring of Fire                    135                           12000                      3
Hardmoors 110               110                           16700                      6
UTMB                             105                           31500                     11
Lakeland 100                  105                           22500                      8
Spine Challenger             105                           16400                      6
West Highland Way           95                           13300                      5
TDS                                  74                           23800                     12
UT Lakes 110k                  69                           10800                       6
Bob Graham Round           66                           27000                     15
CCC                                 63                            20000                     12
Hardmoors 60                   62                           10300                       6
10 Peaks Brecons              56                           15700                      11
Hardmoors 55                   53                             6400                       5
Highland Fling                   53                            5900                       4
Lakes in a Day                   50                          13000                      10
Lakes 3x3000                    50                           13000                      10
Lakeland 50                      50                            9700                        7
10 Peaks Lakes                  46                          16400                       13
Grand Tour of Skiddaw      44                             7700                       7
White Rose Ultra (30)        30                             4700                       6

I'm sure there will be one or two distances or heights that people may not agree with, but I've tried to get the figures from the best available sources (since last year the UTMB list has required a GPS trace, so I'm assuming these are pretty good for those events represented there - it's clear that before that a number of races claimed rather inflated figures for total ascent), but anyway they are accurate enough for some sort of comparison.

What's interesting is that with some knowledge of how the races above actually pan out on the ground, you can see that there are some clear break points where the game changes for the average runner. Events with up to around a 5% rate of climb are runnable pretty well all the way (if you're fit enough for the distance of course!) Events like the Highland Fling, the West Highland Way and the Ring of Fire are running races. Forget about The Spine because of the conditions - the Pennine Way in summer with a light rucksack is runnable ground.

Once you get into the 5-10% range you're into the races where most people will walk a lot of the uphills, but there will be quite a lot of runnable ground in between. This covers the Lakeland 50/100 events and the Harder bits of the Hardmoors.

Above 10% and you're into seriously steep territory - most will walk all the ups and shamble the downhills, and only the talented will average better than 3 miles an hour.

And just out of interest, the Barclay Marathons? To add to the tree roots, briars and mudslides, a mere 21% rate of climb.

KIcking the Habit

I'm sure we all have a number of circular runs that we do regularly.  Mine are different lengths, different surroundings, different difficulties; some just right for a quick blast, others for a tempo, an endurance run, or just a gentle contemplative meander. We do them because we can just go and run, no need to think where to go or to concentrate too hard on finding the way, easy.

But if you're like me, and I'll take a bet that many are, then you will do each of these circuits the same way round every time you go. Maybe you don't even think about it. The first time you did a particular run you did it clockwise; then every time since. This started to concern me, I don't know why, what does it matter after all, so I tried doing some of my runs the other way round. I didn't enjoy it. I couldn't put my finger on why exactly, but it didn't feel................comfortable. Maybe a psychologist would be able to tell me why but I don't think it would help. I went back to doing all my runs the right way round.

One circuit that I've taken to doing regularly is the circuit of Derwentwater because as a part-time Keswick resident, it's on the doorstep for me. It's just over nine miles on a path that is easy enough under foot to let your mind wander if you wish, and more or less flat with only around 300 feet of climb over the whole length. A mixture of woodland tracks, grassy fields, shingle beaches, with maybe a half-mile of tarmac on the link through the outskirts of Keswick. Often popular during the daytime, the time to get it mostly to yourself is in the hour or two before dark regardless of the time of year. Then, as well as the normal squirrels and sheep, you may meet voles underfoot and owls overhead, as well as surprised-looking champagne-quaffing occupants of the Lodore Hotel's hot tub as you pop out of the woods a few feet from them. I occasionally have a good bash and get round at under eight minute miling pace (a good gate-opening technique pays dividends here), but somehow it's rather too good for that, much more rewarding to take a bit longer, float along and absorb the surroundings.

Right from my first acquaintance, I always went anti-clockwise. I'm not sure why; maybe because you start across very easy ground, the field path and the shaky bridge to Portinscale, a bit of road then smooth going through the woods past Mr MacGregor's garden, Hawse End and down the lakeside. Across to the river and half the miles are already in the bag at a nice pace, you don't need to start thinking about options governed by how high the lake water level is until you turn for home. I was happy doing it this way until I raved about it to Dave Troman, a proper Keswick local. No, no, he said, go clockwise, it's better.

Well, I wasn't sure but you have to listen to the experts, so I tried. Dave was right, I was going the wrong way. I still can't put my finger on why, but I have rarely been the other way since. It's nothing earth-shattering, just a whole raft of little things that work out better. Here's an example. After crossing the bridge over the Derwent at the southern end of the lake, you follow a few hundred yards of boardwalk then some open pasture before diving into ancient woodland. You emerge past a house with a teddy bear in the garage window (he's always there, he gets cards at Christmas), then down through a gate to a path just above the water with a scree bank above. If you get yourself to this point on a sunny evening in late August, then as you round the little headland just ahead you will be treated to one of the finest views in the Lake District, which means, of course, in the world.

White Rose Ultra

Back in the Spring when I was planning my year I was looking for something a bit shorter for November and on paper it looked as though the White Rose Ultra would fit the bill nicely.  30 miles and around 4000ft of ascent in the South Pennines, a bit like the Haworth Hobble I assumed. The application went in but I didn't bother to find out any more about it until a couple of weeks before the event. On looking at the course in a bit more detail I saw that it looked like about 50% road; not too inspiring, but I read one or two blogs from competitors of previous years and they sounded generally enthusiastic, so I went along anyway.

The event base at Golcar is not much more than an hour's drive from home for me so I travelled over on the morning of the race. Fog on the Manchester side of the Pennines gave way to completely clear skies in the East; it was clear we were in for a beautiful day. The satnav delivered me (and most of the other competitiors it seemed) to a road about a hundred yards as the crow flies from the venue but with no obvious connection to it. Eventually some-one found the way in and we made our way along a little path (which turned out to be the "finishing straight" of the run) to the old mill building which was the base of operations. There I met John Kynaston and Debbie Consani, neither of whom I knew was running today; also Mark Dalton who had turned up to support a friend on the 100 course. Three events are run simultaneously around the same course  -  the 30 mile covers one lap starting at 8am, the 60 mile starts at the same time but goes on to a second lap, while the 100 had already started at midnight and would continue on to 3 and a bit laps.

Registration was low key but quick and efficient and it seemed like a good number of us were under way on the dot at 8am. I later found out that there were 50 or so starting the 60 mile event and nearly 200 in the 30 miler. For the first few miles the field was quite packed with a bit of queueing at gates and stiles, but I wasn't in any hurry, having no particular ambitions other than to have a nice day out and get round in good shape. To start with the course wound through field tracks and country lanes, pleasant but not particularly memorable. The weather was fine and sunny and I spent the first 10 miles mainly chatting to John Kynaston. He was running conservatively as he had two laps to complete; this suited me fine and the miles rolled by. 

There were well-stocked feed stations at regular five-mile intervals, but as I'd brought a 500ml water bottle I didn't bother to stop at the first two. At the ten mile point John stopped to top up and I ran on through so I was on my own for a mile or two. The field had now thinned out and it was getting a bit hillier and up onto the moors. Although the course was fully marked, you had to concentrate at junctions to spot the arrows, and at the times when you could see no-one to front or back it was encouraging that the organisers had painted a discreet white double arrow on many posts to reassure you that you were still on track. John caught me again just before the 15 mile feed station  -  half way for me and feeling pretty easy.

The next was a slightly longer stage, 6 miles to the next feed station. Near the start of it we hit a long downhill to the village of Marsden, and just before the bottom we caught up with Javed Bhatti who was also doing the 60 mile event. I'd met Javed at the Pennine 39 run back in July; he has already completed the Spine Race and is entered again for next January so I was interested in his views on one or two aspects of the race. Coincidentally, our course today was just joining a section of the Pennine Way up to Wessenden Head, but definitely one of the easier parts as it follows a really good track. Javed said it was about 25 miles from Edale (start of the Spine) to here, so it would definitely be dark when we got here in January. Today however it was light and the views were probably as good as it gets.

Approaching Wessenden Head with John Kynaston

John was running to try and keep a constant heart rate and as we carried on up the very gradual incline towards Wessenden this meant a walk-run combination so we eventually pulled away from Javed. The feed station was at the top of the climb. I was getting very hot as I still had a thermal vest under my teeshirt, so I stopped to take it off while John carried on. I thought I would probably catch him again soon, but the couple of hundred yards he had gained at the stop remained pretty constant for four miles to the next feed station. I could have speeded up with a bit of effort but I guess we both thought we were running at the right pace for comfort, and that just happened to be exactly the same speed for each of us.

This four miles involved a long steady downhill for well over a mile down a road. There were no signs and I could see no-one ahead of John. I had put the course into my GPS and fired it up as we ran down the road just to check, but I needn't have worried. We were soon at the turn-off to another moorland track, and from there the turnings, and consequently the signs, became more frequent. The tracks continued more or less level to the feed station. Here the course made a sharp right turn so John looked over and gave me a wave. There then followed a bit of bouldery track which I maybe a bit happier on so I eventually caught up with John again. As we were now less than five miles from the end of his first lap, he was mentally preparing to set out again on the second. We reached some slightly slippery downhill single track and I pulled away a bit but this wasn't really intentional, again I just think it was ground that I'm more familiar with as I spend so much of my time running in the Lakes. The ground underfoot was generally very easy on this event  -  the blogs from last year had talked about significant boggy sections but there were none today, just an inch or two of mud in places; a result of the really dry Autumn we've had I suppose.

We went down a hill over a canal, passed some old industrial buildings and this was the one point on the course where the signs had disappeared, possibly removed by local pranksters. I had caught another runner who was equally unsure of the way so I paused to get the GPS out again just to make sure we were still on course. John caught up and we carried on to the end of the lap, a mile or so of mostly uphill walking. John was looking strong and I wished him well on his continuation, but this was the end of the shift for me.

I finished in a time of 5:47 for 37th place out of 169 finishers. I'm happy with that, it wasn't too stressful an experience, generally a grand day out. Would I do it again? Probably not, too much road and jeep track for me really, I prefer ground where you have to watch where you're putting your feet; but on the day, the weather brought the views out to their best so I wouldn't have missed it on this occasion.

John struggled a bit on his second lap, maybe as a result of the hot weather on the first, but still finished his two laps in 13:21 to get 12th place out of 42 finishers. Debbie, in spite of being knocked down by a car (and thought to be a hospital case by those around at the time apparently), shrugged it off to finish first lady in 11:05, in 5th place overall and breaking the ladies' course record. Well, it makes a change from falling in the canal I suppose.

Pennine Wandering

I'm always impressed by overseas competitors who come to some of our challenging races over unmarked courses like the Dragon's Back or The Spine and perform so well without ever having set foot on the ground until the start of the event. Very competent performers.  But those of us operating nearer the back of the pack need as much help as we can get if we are to have any chance of success, and one of the best ways of increasing that chance is to get familiar with the route. This isn't necessarily just for making the navigation easier (though of course it helps) but more about understanding the ground, the lie of the land as it were, so you can plan your journey on the day (or days!) to best effect. The ground underfoot, what the climbs feel like, where you can get water and other supplies and many other bits of information make strategy and decision-making much easier during the event, as well as taking away one area of potential "nasty surprises" if you don't know what's coming.

So with The Spine looming rather more closely on the horizon now, I felt I should get to know a bit more about the Pennine Way. The only part I had covered so far was the section from Middleton to Alston, courtesy of the excellent "Pennine 39" event organised by Joe Faulkner back in July. I wasn't after the full immersion experience (dark, snow, wind etc), just to understand the terrain, and to get the maximum benefit from this I decided that it should be done in daylight  -  most people who have done a few long events are familiar enough with finding their way around in the dark, it's a skill almost independent of where you actually find yourself.

For my first outing a couple of weeks ago, Jan was very helpful in ensuring that my car was dropped at Middleton followed by me at Gargrave after tea, leaving a couple of hours to wander easily through the fields (dry in October but by all accounts somewhat moister in an average January) along to the Buck Inn in Malham and some dinner. Earliest possible breakfast at the pub was 8.30am, so with daylight at least an hour earlier it would have been a bit of an indulgence, so they left me a sandwich out and I started off up the trail at just after 7.30. 

It was misty and quite atmospheric along the easy track to Malham Cove and on up a set of steps to the famous limestone pavement on top. No single track along the top, it seems everyone finds their own way across the rocks until the track reappears with convenient Pennine Way sign at the Eastern edge. Interesting walking along the dry Watlowes valley leads to another little uphill then level ground across to Malham Tarn. It would be easy to run here but I'd decided that as I don't expect to run much during the actual Spine event I would use this trip to experiment with various walking speeds. My aim today was to average 3 miles an hour, including stops, but without running anywhere. I had also made sure my rucksack weight was at least as heavy as I plan to carry in January, 8kg compared with a January target of 6kg, to see what effect this had on overall speed. I frequently carry this weight when out walking with Jan in the Lakes, but never at this sort of overall speed so it was going to be interesting to see how it worked out.

It's easy wide tracks and a road around the tarn; I seemed to pass the Field Centre (Spine Checkpoint 1,5) at about breakfast time, lots of activity inside but no-one out and about yet. A turning off the track a few hundred yards past the Field centre led to a path through fields and across a minor road to Tennant Gill Farm, where the first ascent of the day, Fountains Fell, starts. It's a gentle ascent up a well-defined path, but the mist got progressively thicker and visibility was down to twenty yards or so as I passed the summit. The path then seemed to dive off rather abruptly down to the right, so I checked the map. This was the first time I had looked at either map or gps that day, because from Malham to here the route is well marked and (in daylight) very easy to follow. Once assured that this was correct, I put the map away and only referred to it once or twice again for the remainder of the day. The path down the fell was good, rocky at first and a bit soggy for the last bit down to a road with a cattle grid. The road to the grid was blocked by a herd of cows which I had to shoulder out of the way a bit to get through - those in the fields South of Malham moved away easily in response to a sharp word or two, but these fell-grazing beasts were clearly made of sterner stuff.

A few hundred yards along the road was the turn-off towards Pen-y-Ghent, and here at last the mist finally dispersed to give the promised fine day. 

Looking back to Fountains Fell in (now!) fine weather

The ascent looks a bit daunting but quite a lot of the height is gained on the gentle approach track and the steep section at the top up a rock staircase (some natural, some engineered) is quite short. I came across other walkers for the first time here, most were doing Pen-y-Ghent as a round trip from Horton-in-Ribblesdale, the village which was my next target. It's a fair way down to Horton and the track is stony but otherwise simple and I got down in time for lunch. I was looking forward to sampling the well-known Pen-y-Ghent Cafe but it turned out to be "Closed on Tuesdays" so I made do with a pint of Coke and a sandwich and chips at the Crown Inn just down the road.

Approaching Pen-y-Ghent

From Horton to Hawes the route is almost all following long jeep tracks, easy to follow. It climbs steadily up to the "Cam Road" which hangs around the 1900ft contour for several miles, and which I already had a passing acquaintance with as it is also followed for a mile or so by the Dales Way which I walked with my brother and our wives back in August this year. On this clear and sunny October day, the compensation for the relative "sameness" of the walking came from ever-increasing views along the way, especially after the Cam Road moves to the left of the highest ground further on.

Signpost on the Cam Road  -  Pen-y-Ghent fading away behind

I left the jeep track for the final descent to Hawes along a narrower footpath across the fell, at first quite rocky but later boggy, ending with a bit of road and a few fields into town. I got to Hawes just 10 hours after leaving Malham which was in line with my 3mph average target, and checked in at the Bull Hotel (which is actually a B&B so I ended up with dinner at the nearby Crown   -  2nd Crown of the day!). Walking at 3mph felt a bit stretching; I could have made it easier by not stopping so long for lunch, but I decided to go for a little bit slower the following day to see how that felt.

Tomorrow was due to be the bad weather day for the week, misty and very wet but possibly clearing up later. The landlady's offer of a bacon sandwich if I could hang on until 7.45 was too good to miss, so it was nearly 8am before I set off wetly through the fields to Hardraw. From here, the next objective was Great Shunner Fell. I had never heard of this before I started studying the PW route a few weeks ago, and then I was quite surprised to find that it is higher than Pen-y-Ghent. It was a steady though never steep climb to the summit through steady rain and pretty poor visibility. The route was initially a jeep track, then turning into a natural path up the fell, intermittently slabbed. Easy to follow in daylight it's probably a bit harder to pick out in the dark. The summit announced its presence with a cairn and the cruciform shelter which seems popular in these parts. The path down was very similar to the one up in reverse, but I speculated that it could be unnerving in fresh untracked snow as there were clearly deep bogs off to the side of the track in many places - the sort of nervous excitement you get when you're the first up a crevassed glacier after a fresh snowfall.

Thwaite, the first sign of habitation since Hardraw turned up; it had a cafe but I was a bit keener not to waste too much time today  -  I had decided to travel slower and it's about 34 miles from Hawes to Middleton. On the plus side, the weather seemed to have shot its bolt and was gradually improving.

Looking back to Thwaite in improving weather

The next section, up and around Kisdon Hill alongside the River Swale, was a delightful interlude. Fairly slow going due to the rocky singletrack but with real variety; steeper contours, trees with a range of Autumn colours, a new view every few hundred yards. It felt more like being back in the Lakes than the normally more austere Pennines. But it didn't last long. A short descent to cross the river (and the Coast-to-Coast path, another project for next year) just before Keld then it was a steady but gentle uphill over the moor to my half-way point for the day at Tan Hill. Apart form the cafe at Thwaite, which is only about 8 miles out of Hawes, the pub at Tan Hill is the only possibility of a warm stop on this 34 mile stretch so in January it would be great to get there during opening hours. Today I couldn't resist a pint of shandy to go with the lunch.

The first section of Sleightholme Moor which follows Tan Hill seems to be generally regarded as one of the wetter areas of the Pennine Way. Even after a very dry Autumn it lived up to this reputation, though I suspect the knee-deep bits that I encountered are probably double this depth in a warmish winter. A couple of weeks at minus ten after Christmas would be great! The "white-topped posts" you read about which are maybe two hundred yards apart keep you on the right line in reasonable visibility, but the line is straight so a bearing should get you from one to the next OK. To start with I was a bit confused because there are white posts all over this moor; the majority of them are markers for bird feeders so you just need to be sure that the speck of white in the distance that you're homing in on is actually a route marker!

But after a mile or so a path appears following a beck on the right, and a bit further on it takes to slightly higher ground to the left. I found the walk across this bit quite inspiring. It's surely a trick of the contours but apart from the narrow trod you are following, from here you can see no sign of human impact on the landscape as far as the horizon in all directions  - an unusual experience in our crowded little island. This ended as I reached a definitely uninspiring new bridge over the beck carrying a shooting road, which the PW then follows for a mile or so. A bit of wet agricultural ground followed after Sleightholme Farm and I didn't find the best way through the little gorge before Trough Heads, but once up on the path across the moor again the constant noise of the fast-approaching A66 made its impact  -  a completely different scene from that of barely an hour ago.

Lonely Sleightholme Moor

Downhill to the natural stone "God's Bridge" then up to the underpass, noting that it would be a dry if somewhat noisy place for a break if Tan Hill is shut, then I set off over the final few miles towards Middleton. I didn't warm to this stretch, a series of featureless, rather boggy moors interspersed with minor road crossings. It got dark around Baldersdale but that didn't seem to detract much from the scenery at this point. By the time I reached the Brough to Middleton road I was just navigating in the dark through wet fields and odd bits of moor. I decided I wasn't learning much now so I forsook the final couple of miles around Harter Fell for the road into Middleton, a bit further but probably much quicker. I reached Middleton 12 hours after setting out from Hawes; only a bit slower than yesterday but it felt much more comfortable so a good bit of learning there. Home in two hours in time for a late dinner.

I'm not sure if I'll manage many (if any) multi-day reccies along the PW, the logistics are a bit complicated to make the best use of time, but I'll certainly carry on getting to know as much of the route as I can by "out-and-back" days from the car. On these, so long as I get one way in daylight, it won't matter if it's dark for some of the way back.

Anyway, that's about 107 miles covered so far  -  only about another 160 to go!

Postscript

Since writing the above, I've had my first out-and-back trip from Edale to Bleaklow Head. It was a day of mist, poor visibility and almost continual rain, only clearing at about 4pm. I had read that the stream at Kinder Downfall rarely flows, so after the dry Autumn we've had I expected nothing. After no more than 8 hours of steady rain, it was a 10 foot wide, mid-calf-deep steady wade. Conditions can change fast in these hills!

Lakes in a Day

This time last year I ran in two Lakeland events a week apart; not very sensible maybe but they both looked tempting and I couldn't choose. This year it was an easier decision. Last year the 3 x 3000 Ultra Trail, a 48 mile off-road round of Scafell Pike, Helvellyn and Skiddaw was an excellent event, very wet at first but turning to a nice day on a fine challenging course. The two things that put me off a little however were the use of full course marking which I know some people like but doesn't really seem right to me -  a line of flags across the open fells - and the fact that the course descends the Wythburn valley; this is generally acknowledged to be one of the boggiest areas in Lakeland and having done three or four trips up and down it I felt that I'd served my time here and didn't need to go again.

I'd found the Open Adventure "Lakes in a Day" an even better event; a slightly longer and tougher course but a real journey through Lakeland from Caldbeck in the North to Cartmel in the South, superbly well organised and with a bit of everything the District has to offer. So that was the one for me this year.  It seemed that I wasn't alone in this thinking because the start list had gone up from something under 200 last year to nearly 300 this time.

An early bus ride from the event base in the school at Cartmel deposited us in Caldbeck in time for the 8am start on what was clearly going to be a beautiful day. A quick briefing from RD James Thurlow then the field was jogging its way up gently rising tracks and lanes to Nether Row before spilling out onto the area of open fells generally referred to in these parts as the "Back o' Skidda".  Route choice from here to Blencathra summit was open (I guess on the basis that there aren't really many tracks anyway!) with the proviso that you had to visit High Pike summit on the way, and the organisation knew where you had been because each runner carried a GPS tracker.

The first climb up to High Pike, fairly long but at a gentle angle, saw the field spreading out and by the time we hit the trackless ground beyond the Lingy hut a number of line choices were being pursued. I carried straight on over Coomb Height hoping to hit the track leading down to the Caldew at the bottom of Burdell Gill. I found it by navigating carefully in the mist last year but paying less attention in the clear conditions this time,  overshot the start of it (bit of a lesson here!) and ended up thrashing through the heather all the way down to the river. On the flip side, the river was very low this year so a crossing via the boulders with dry feet was possible, an unusual state of affairs.

Whatever way you tackle it, the climb from here to Blencathra summit is hard work up the tussocky slope, just get your head down and get on with it sort of thing. It gets easier for the last few hundred feet once the Bob Graham trod is joined, and I was happy to reach the top about two and a half hours after leaving Caldbeck. A good trundle down Hall's Fell ridge followed, nice ground for me and I was able to overtake numerous runners on the way down. I had a pang of regret as I ran out into the fields at the bottom though, my quads reminding me that I hadn't had many hilly outings for a couple of months or so. Never mind, soon down to Threlkeld village hall and the first feed station.

Only three feed stations on this event (no need for conventional checkpoints because of the trackers), but what they lack in number they definitely make up for in quality. I had decided that I was mainly here for a good day out rather than any finish time aspirations, so my strategy was to eat well when it was available and rely on drinks only in between. So it was time for brunch now, with a couple of sandwiches, some pastries, crisps and a couple of cups of coffee (and fifteen minutes generally enjoyable sitting around). The result of course is that you can't run for a while after this sort of indulgence, so I decided I would walk all the way to the top of Clough Head from here.

I was passed by a dozen or more runners along the easy track from Threlkeld to Newsham, but managed to repass them on the climb up to Clough Head because that's more my thing. I was a bit surprised at the state of the ground on this climb. Once just a grassy slope, the rising number of Bob Graham attempts in recent years had turned it into a reasonable stepped trod, but it is now degenerating into a muddy slide, maybe as a result of this event and the 3 x 3000. A bit concerning.

Once on the top it was great to stretch out in the wonderful weather (perfect temperature and high clouds preventing it from getting too hot) along the Dodds to Helvellyn. You can't get tired of this ridge in either direction, although by the time you crest the final rise over Dollywagon Pike, you know you've ascended a foot or two. We had been instructed to use the pitched path down to Grisedale Tarn rather than heading straight down the grass (to minimise the erosion contribution of the event, a sound policy I think), I don't think it really takes much longer for the average runner.

I needed to top up with water at the tarn outlet (it's 18 hilly miles from Threlkeld to Ambleside and this is the only water possibility), then on up Fairfield for the last significant climb of the day. 

Climb up Fairfield from Grisedale Tarn

Not too huge this one though, then a couple of little ups and downs over Hart Crag and Dove Crag to High Pike (the second one of these of the day!) leads to a brilliant long run down a gradually descending grassy ridge all the way to Ambleside. For the first time my average speed for the day actually started to climb climb above 3 miles an hour!

Ambleside was the second feed station, providing more diversion in the form of pizza, cake, fruit and tea. No drop bags were allowed on the event, but you could send a change of shoes to Ambleside on the premise that from here the ground underfoot changes from mainly fell to trail. I wasn't bothered about the shoe type, but the chance to change in to dry footwear after the inevitable soaking you get over the fells whatever the basic weather conditions was too good to miss. So with a bit of general faffing another 15 minutes went by before I set out on the second "half" of the course (29 miles done, 21 to go).  The course from Ambleside southwards definitely gets easier, less climbing and much less technical under foot, but it's still 21 miles, about 4000ft of climbing, and for runners in my bit of the field over half would be done in the dark.

The first few miles follow an easy off-road cycle track then a bit of country lane to High Wray,  I jogged to here then walked the mile or two of steady climb through the Claife Heights plantation to its high point.  A half mile or so before the top I caught up with Jim, a runner I had been passing and repassing for most of the day. This was his first ultra and his work locations meant that he was only able to train on a treadmill, so he was doing a pretty sound job so far. As an ex marine though he was obviously quite tough. We made it through the tree line without having to put on torches and started running down the open jeep track on the other side. Just past Moss-Eccles Tarn I was finding my eyesight not good enough to make out the ground underfoot so I said I would stop to get out my torch and put another layer on. I hadn't needed anything other than a vest all day but the temperature was dropping in the fine evening so I pulled on a light windproof top. Jim already had his torch ready so he carried on. I didn't really expect to catch him for a while at least, but when I reached the road at Sawtrey he was stopped there, convinced he was off route. I reassured him that we were fine and we carried on together down the short stretch of lane to the Windermere shore.

What had unnerved Jim was that he had run out of signs.  From High Wray all the way to the finish the route follows a series of footpaths, tracks and occasional country lanes. Apart from a short section around High Dam at the southern end of Windermere, all these are marked on the OS map. A potential problem though is that there are many other tracks and lanes in the area, some on the map, some not, and you have to navigate carefully to get the right ones. In last year's event, the area around High Dam was marked, but only that section. The result was that many runners got lost, took different lines, and so on. I think principally to keep competitors from running along busier roads in the dark, the organisers had decided this year to put arrows on all the key non-obvious turnings between High Wray and the finish. But it was is not full course marking, it was an aid to navigation not a replacement of it, and you still had to know where you were. I think for this event it's a good compromise for this section of the course, but I often find that I navigate better when I concentrate knowing that it's tricky, rather than when I think I'm being helped and forget to plot where I am on the map from time to time.

The route along Windermere follows two sections of shoreline tracks that wander up and down, sometimes on the beach, sometimes a way up the steepish banks, normally through trees and often a bit overgrown, split by a short road section.  Along here Jim and I made good progress, walking the ups and jogging the rest, and passed several runners including Abby who I had first chatted to coming out of Ambleside but who had come storming past us a few miles back. We finally left the lake shore and started the aggressive little climb up to High Dam. I really must come round here in daylight one day, it always looks as though it might be an attractive spot but I've only ever seen it in the dark. A descent through the woods then across a field or two led us to the final feed station at Finsthwaite village hall.

Soup, sausage rolls, cake, tea, coke.........and another 15 minutes passed. I wasn't being particularly checkpoint efficient on this event, but it was nevertheless most enjoyable. We set out again over the little up and down through the wood to Levens Bridge. Only a mile but this bit always seems to take longer than it should.  Abby came past again on the downhill, more sure-footed on the  leaf-strewn rocky steps than we were. Across the main road then a couple of miles of open moorland and a lane or two led to Bigland Tarn, and we were on the last section of plantation before the finish. Tricky navigating last year, this time the fluorescent arrows made life very simple. Then up and over the last bit of moor, following the "Cumbria Coastal Way" and we were then on the last two miles of country road to Cartmel. I warned Jim there was a final up in the road which we walked, from where it was a steady jog all the way down to the finish. We passed several competitors walking, content that they had cracked it and the end was near. With a mile to go we caught Abby, now walking, and persuaded her to carry on with us. Through the village to the warm applause of people exiting the pubs (it was now after 11pm) and on to the finish at the school. With a couple of hundred yards to go, Jim said he just had to walk, his blisters were too painful  -  he hadn't mentioned them at all up to this point, stoical types, these ex-military men, so Abby and I said we would wait for him at the finish and jogged on. He came in about a minute behind us, to mutual congratulations and thanks for the company. Oddly, the results showed Abby about a minute ahead of Jim, but me about a minute behind him! Must be some inaccuracy in the way the trackers work, but of no significance in the overall scale of the event.

Finish

Food, tea and medals were available in the school hall at the finish. I was about an hour faster than last year. Officially 15hrs 38min (actually 15:36!), about 100th place from 274 starters. At this stage of my career I think I'll take that as some sort of success.

A great event, certainly one of the best outings in the Lakes, spot-on 50 miles and just under 13000ft of ascent. I'm sure I'll be back.

(photos courtesy of Lakes in a Day)