It had been 3 years since I ran the 10 Peaks Long race for
the first time. A 24 hour challenge taking in the 10 highest mountains in the
Lakes, it was the biggest thing I’d done up to that point and I really enjoyed
it in 2013, taking 21hr 30min to finish it in the early morning darkness. It’s
approximately 50 miles, but with 15,000ft of ascent and a lot of rough terrain
and route finding.
That time I had joined up with two lads who had a readymade
cheerleading team and we walked in the last 20 miles or so, which included a
long flattish section back to Keswick from Great Gable and a single climb up
and down Skiddaw. After a few larger challenges since I thought I fancied
having another go and hoped this time to go a bit quicker with the benefit of
more experience especially in climbing.
A questionable choice of accommodation overlooking the
market square and the Moot Hall at Keswick enabled us to run out on the start
of a friend’s Bob Graham on Friday evening.
Friday night leg stretch ((c) Carol Morgan) |
Unfortunately the room's positioning also meant that we
were still being kept awake by drunk people in the square when our alarm went
off at 2:30am on Saturday morning.
The race starts with a coach drive to the bottom of
Helvellyn at Swirls car park and at 4am we were off and heading up and above
the midge clouds. As the sun rose behind us and set the tops of the fells out
to the west on fire, we got the first peak and 3,000ft of ascent out of the way
and then the first bit of route choice arrived.
The race has 2 out of bounds areas and the summits have to
be done in a certain order but this leaves quite a few decisions on lines. As
many headed off down the tourist path towards Wythburn, I dialled in the
bearing Carol had worked out the night before and dropped down the steep Old
Counties Tops descent, joined by two Horwich runners who I shared mutual friends with.
They got the line spot on; I drifted right slightly but we rejoined the path
ahead of those we’d split up from and continued down to the valley and then up
the far side, through the area marked on the map as The Bog and on via High Raise
to Angle Tarn and Bowfell.
It still early, not yet 8am, but it was starting to get hot.
I don’t deal well with heat, but tried to keep drinking plenty and there were
plenty of mountain streams to fill up from.
Just after Bowfell, my friend Andy, who was running the
Short course, overtook us and yelled encouragement. He had started an hour
after us and was flying. He went on to win the short race by 58 seconds!
Beyond Ore Gap, the tops started coming quickly and I
skipped over the rocky ground and ticked off Esk Pike, Great End, Ill Crag,
Broad Crag and Scafell Pike. At Ill Crag Tony and Albert, who I’d been running
with, made the decision to convert over to the short course, so I continued on
my own on the long course.
The second biggest route choice comes soon after Scafell
Pike, and as I headed over the boulders towards Mickledore I joined up with a guy called Graham from Buckinghamshire. He had done the race once before and had taken the easier but longer
Foxes Tarn option to Scafell that time He fancied trying Lord’s Rake though, and
I offered to show him the way up.
Heading across Mickledore for Scafell ((c) Helen Price) |
We had a fun time on the rock filled gully
and then parted soon after summiting Scafell, as I was opting to drop down into
Wasdale whilst he was heading via the Corridor Route to climb Great Gable
first.
The glorious sunshine had brought the crowds out, and
although my initial drop down the side of Scafell was nice and quiet, by the
time I exited the scree run and headed towards Wasdale Head I was meeting tens
of tourists starting the climb up England’s highest mountain. A quick stop in
the shop for the Coke I’d been fantasising about and I headed up Mosedale
towards Pillar. Less than a mile from the hubbub of Wasdale and now there was
no-one around.
A steep climb up the skirts of the mountain and I was on the
ridge. I soon bumped into Emma on her Bob Graham leg 4 as she headed in the
opposite direction towards Kirk Fell, and after hugs and handshakes with her
and her supporters I completed the out and back to Pillar. Here I met Graham
again. As we were taking alternative routes, we couldn’t work out which of us
was ahead and parted in opposite directions with half an expectation of meeting
at the next major checkpoint at Honister.
The heat, climb and distance was starting to get to me by
now, and the haul up Great Gable from Beck Head was slow and painful. At the
rocky top the weather was changing and I had to take a bearing in the mist to
find the drop down to Windy Gap and Moses’s Trod. I started the jog back down
to Honister, by now knowing I was in need of food and energy. As happened
several times, just at the right time I got the perk of seeing someone I knew;
Daniel from my running club was heading out to meet some of his friends who were
also on the Long course, and a brief chat lifted my spirits.
At Honister, pasta and more Coke awaited. Graham came in
just before I left and we chatted before I set off down into Borrowdale. In
2013 I’d instead gone up the suggested route to the col near Dalehead, but
Carol had pointed out the night before that there was an alternative route that
involved no climbing, along the banks of Derwent Water, and I gratefully took
it.
By now there were rain clouds sweeping in. I welcomed the
drips of drizzle that started, and then suddenly had to shelter under a tree
and put on waterproofs as it turned into a downpour.
I was keeping up a slow jog, but even compared to the
walking in 2013, I wasn’t making very quick progress. As it had for the last 5
hours, Skiddaw reared up ahead, the final of the 10 peaks. I decided I couldn’t
face the suggested steep route up via Carlside, and planned on the familiar
climb up past Latrigg, Jenkins Hill and Little Man.
I’d not taken much food on board since Honister, and after a
terrible convoluted journey through Keswick I started up on the last climb.
Time stood still as I trudged upwards, the only consolation
the beautiful views across Derwent Water to Newlands Valley and Coledale and
beyond to all the peaks I’d been up.
Consolation view |
I pleased myself by forcing a gel slowly
down whilst on the steepest part of the climb, but a swig of water afterwards
proved too much, and back it all came. Bent double by the side of the path, I
checked my watch. 1,500 ft still to climb, and it was obvious now I wouldn’t be
able to make it to the finish in daylight. I thought about the option of
stopping, but stopping actually still meant 5 miles or so of running back to
Keswick. I carried on upwards, and the nausea abated.
As always, the weather on top of Skiddaw was several stages
worse than everywhere below, and I headed blindly along the ridge until the
trig point and a lone figure appeared out of the mist and rain.
“Simon! Wait there, I’ve got something for you”, shouted the
apparition, and I stood shivering as the marshal Paul came back from his tent
with some red wine in a hip flask. I sipped it carefully and then it was about
turn and back off on the final descent.
Gravity helped my progress and I slowly jogged back the way
I’d come, with a brief stop to put on my headtorch, and for another bout of
nausea.
The lack of sleep turned ferns into skeletons, roots into
polished mahogany table legs, and most bizarrely, a large rock into my blue
bath towel that I slowed down to attempt to pick up.
Just over 19 hours after starting I jogged back into the
football club in Keswick’s Fitz Park, cheered by several friends who had been
watching the tracker and come along once then knew I was on my way. Carol was
there too. She’d finished 5 hours before me, and so had had the chance to
shower, change and probably go for another run.
My initial reaction was of disappointment, as I’d hoped to
take at least 3 hours off my previous time, but I think I’d overestimated the
difference between my walking pace and my running pace at the end of a long day
out. I also realised that difficult races are difficult however many of them
you do.