Spine Race 2015 - Part 1

An Epic

These are just a few photos and thoughts about the Spine Race 2015 which I completed between 10th and 16th January 2015.  The Spine Race is a continuous foot-race up the 268-mile Pennine Way.  It's not really an ultra-run; most of the course is not runnable for mortals over extended periods. It challenges navigation, self-reliance and mountaincraft as much as running endurance.

The competitors are for the most part not elite athletes but fit and obdurate.  They are some of the best people you'd wish to meet as well (and me)

I spent a huge amount of time on my own over the race but the time shared with fellow competitors and race volunteers on the hill, in the checkpoints and in bleak huts on god-forsaken moorland was golden.

How do you eat an elephant?

The Spine started to dominate my waking thoughts almost as soon as I'd entered in February 2014 and it was pretty much an obsession for the last 3 months.  Strategy, training, kit and familiarity with the route went round and round as topics of conversation with anyone who'd listen.  Fortunately, fellow Spiner, Phil Sturgeon was even more obsessed and happy to indulge me.

The strategy I fixed on was this.  Try and go light and fast on the first day in the knowledge that I would reach the checkpoint at Hebdon 46 miles away on that day. Eat at the checkpoint and change into dry kit including walking boots in readiness for more steady progress over the next 24-30 hours hoping to get to CP2 at Hawes at a time when sleeping would be sensible.  I had planned on 12-14 hour to Hebden, 26 - 30 hours to Hawes and 2 hours at the Checkpoint.  This gave a range of 40 - 48 hours for the first two legs.  With a 9.30 start time, this implied arriving at Hawes between 1.30 am and 9.30 am.  The first of these would be an ideal time, allowing 5 hours to sleep, eat and faff without losing any precious daylight.  Arriving at 9.30 would be less than ideal, implying either no sleep or sleeping in daylight.  Sleeping in daylight is a criminal waste in this event with only 8 - 9 hours of good light per day.  So, modifying the strategy to take account of progress would be key.  We had scoped out barns and shelters in the miles leading up to Hawes in preparation for falling short.

This strategy was soon reduced to ashes. Before the race even started, the plans were thrown up in the air and blown on the wind.

Kit and the difference between packing and faffing

This is Phil and I at kit check where the organisers made sure that we were carrying all the compulsory kit; bivvy bag, sleeping bag, mat, stove, food, spare clothes, GPS, map, compass, first aid, etc.  Essentially, we should be self-sufficient for up to 48 hours.

We were also issued with our numbers, red hats and beards.

You can get an awful lot of kit in a 20 kilo drop bag.  And you can spend a lot of time deciding what to put in and what to leave out.  This is the chaos at Edale village hall on the morning of the race.  

Phil and I had spent the night in his campervan and we woke at 7.30 in readiness for our 9.30 start.  We were immediately told that the start had been postponed and we would now be setting of at 11.30.

This was very frustrating, particularly as the weather in the valley at Edale at this point was bright and breezy. I'm told conditions on the tops were much more challenging!

This gave us two more hours to fret over choice of shoes, coats, food and where we might get to that day given the delayed start time.  Once the faffing was over there was nothing to do but drink tea and wait.

Phil gave himself a chance of 10 minutes more snoozing.  But don't be fooled  We were both as excited as kittens.

Various revised start times were announced from 10,30 - 11.30 making eating difficult to schedule. Inevitably, we set off at 11.30 as first announced and I was hungry.

Ready, Steady, Go!

What pace do you set off at for a 268-mile race?  Maybe tuck in behind Pavel Paloncy and use the shelter of his 6' 5" frame? We had 5 hours of daylight and I wanted to make best use of them and there was some runnable terrain over Kinder. I settled for a steady jog on the flat and downhill sections and a brisk walk on the rest.

The opening miles across to Jacob's ladder were full of chat and nervous banter.  Phil's excitement was getting the better of him and he stretched out ahead of me.  He stopped after 5 minutes to faff with his kit some more and that would be the last I saw of him for 4 days and 190 miles.

As we climbed on to the Kinder plateau the wind started to gather and along Kinder edge the cross wind really started to unbalance me and slow me down.  A competitor in front had his foam mat tied on the outside of rucksack bouncing around in a way that would have really annoyed me.  Along Kinder edge a strong gust caught the mat and ripped in from his bag. Someone alerted him to what had happened and he started to go after his mat.  I saved him the bother and told him that it had probably stopped somewhere around Hathersage. 

Kinder Upfall

Kinder Downfall has a reputation as being a waterfall that falls upwards and this day we saw it at its spectacular best.  The overnight rain meant there was a strong flow over the lip of the waterfall and the 40 mph westerly was catching the water and hurling it 400 metres back onto the Kinder plateau.

I find high winds can have an energising effect on me.  The power of the weather excites me. The sight of the downfall at its best as well left me buzzing with excitement at the race I was in. This was what I'd come for.

As we swung over Mill Hill the wind came straight on our backs and so I took advantage of this and jogged on to Snake Summit.  I probably pushed a little too hard here and suffered a bit in the crossing of Bleaklow and descent of Wildboar Clough.  I was eating regularly and had been since the start; a consequence of being hungry on the start line.  I was already starting to run low on bars.  I had  plenty of other grub but the bars were going down well.

I found a good steady pace going up Black Hill and started to settle in to the mind games.  We were losing the light and I knew I had something like 8 hours of moving in the dark to cope with before I reached the first checkpoint at Hebden Bridge.  I made my first mistake shortly after this, following Pennine Bridleway signs not the Pennine way one, along Standedge. A mistake that probably cost me 20 minutes or so but no great extra effort.  It was a sharp reminder of the need to concentrate on the navigation when the sun goes down.  

Once back on route, I continued along the high ground towards Blackstone edge.  The continued high cross winds were punishing but I had stayed dry and the "big" coat I had chosen for the day was doing its job of keeping the wind from chilling me.  I was feeling warm and moving well but the effect of the wind was to make progress slower than hoped.  I fell in with a chap from the West Country (Matt - I think) and we chatted happily along Blackstone edge and past the reservoirs.  As we headed towards Stoodley Pike the wind grew even stronger and the sleet began to fall.

I say the sleet began to fall.  It wasn't really falling.  It was screaming left to right across my field of view at 40 mph.  I was wearing plain plastic cycling glasses to protect my eyes from the sleet and wind - a decision that may have saved my race.  At least 2 people I heard of withdrew from the race at Hebden with eye damage caused by not having any protection against the sleet.

The effect of the sleet on visibility was dramatic.  The view through the safety specs looked like the starry sky when Han Solo makes the jump to light speed in Star Wars.  From three miles away we had picked out the outline of the Stoodley Pike monument, a 100 ft stone tower.  Now, from 20 metres away, it was invisible.  We didn't know it was there until we fell into the wind shadow.  We took a moment to take a breather and Matt put on a layer before setting off again into the maelstrom.

The test at this point is not to believe you've reached the first checkpoint because there's 3 miles beyond Hebden to deal with including a pretty stiff climb.  We trudged into the checkpoint at Hebden at around 2.30am, 15 hours after leaving Edale, and exhausted.  Plans of pushing through were out of my thoughts.  I needed food and some rest.  If I could get going again before first light then I would be happy.  It had been a truly punishing day and I knew that I needed to recognise that.

46 Miles in 15 hours in that weather?  Good. Do it again!

The checkpoint at Hebden was better than I was expecting. The food was great. It was warm and there were beds and it was quiet enough for me to sleep.  Quiet enough for me to sleep is much the same as not actually on the runway at Heathrow.  

If I can digress for a moment here.  There are a number of abilities that are useful in a multi-day event like this. 

Durability.  You don't want an underlying knee complaint that you know will get worse and worse over a number of days.

Indefatigability.  You need that personality that says "put your head down and push on" when things turn tough.

Positivity.  I'm not sure anyone can remain positive after 15 hours of wading through ankle deep mud but we all have our different cracking points.

Fitness.  Positive thinking can't make you fly.

Dealing with sleep.  I am brilliant at sleeping.  I can fall asleep quickly.  I can wake up quickly.  I seem to get good value out of the sleep I have.  Over the course of this event I would have conversations with racers who had spent the same amount of time as me at places but had half the amount of sleep. (this would be 90 minutes instead of 3 hours...but this really matters).  At Hebden I found a bed above a room where someone was playing loud dance music. (Really, they were! Why? Can't help you.) Thankfully, I was able to grab around 3 hours of good sleep.

I think I woke about 5.30.  I set off at 7.05.  The time in between just disappeared like sand between your fingers.  Eat some porridge. Pack enough food to last until Hawes. Sort your feet out. Get dressed. Go!  Where did the other hour go?

I trogged up the muddy slope out of the checkpoint behind a couple of racers and immediately felt that I should be moving quicker than them.  Feeling the push of competition I tried to stretch out.  Over the next 10 hours as Julie and Chris shouted me back when I went wrong and supported me through a long bad patch, I came to realise my hubris.

There are no photos of this day.  It was grey and showery and extremely wet underfoot.  There were long miles of muddy pasture that sapped the energy. I felt sluggish and tired for so much of the day. I felt thirsty from the outset and couldn't seem to drink enough.  There are few hills on these miles between Hebden and Malham but the sodden, sticky pasture sucked the energy from my legs.  I did no running on this day.  I tried to hang on to other racers, Jesse Palmer and his support crew and Julie Gardner and Chris Armour were brilliant in stopping my pace drop below the plod level.

In my mind, I was hoping to be in Gargrave by mid-afternoon.  In the end it was 5 pm and nearly dark by the time I arrived. I'd been helped into town by a spine challenger called Rob who had convinced me that a meal at the Masons Arms was what I needed.  It had never tipped it down for long all day but I was starting to feel damp down into the core.  It was good to take the coat off and allow the fresh air to circulate.  The braised steak and mash was one of the best meals I've ever eaten.

I left the pub feeling fresher and well fed.  The thoughts going through my mind were where would I get to that night.  How long could I go on before I needed to stop and rest.  The minimum in my mind was to get to Malham Tarn a further 10 miles on where I knew a halfway checkpoint would offer some facilities.  I'd been in boots today and up until now my feet had felt fairly dry through a combination of waterproof leather boots and waterproof sealskinz socks.  Sloshing through the inundated fields between Gargrave and Malham soaked my feet through.

Arrival in Malham at around 8 pm signalled a change in the countryside from pasture to a more rugged Yorkshire Dales countryside.  The sharp rise up Malham cove followed by the complex ground over the limestone pavement was marvellously atmospheric.  The mists swirled around the crags playing tricks on my tired mind but I was starting to enjoy myself again after what had been a really tough second day.  We (Rob and I had stuck together through the night) reached checkpoint 1.5, as it is styled, at Malham Tarn at about 10.30 pm. I'd been moving for 35 hours at this point with only 3 hour sleep but it felt like I'd had two full days out already.  In the plan, I'd thought of pushing on at this point.  The sleeping barns and bivvy points that we had reccied were all beyond Horton in Ribblesdale another 10 miles on.  

A storm was gathering.  I took advantage of the facilities at Malham Tarn Outdoor centre.  I ate some dried apple and custard and drank some tea and a hot chocolate.  I sat indoors chatting and eating and drinking for over an hour.  There was nowhere indoors to sleep at the Outdoor Centre but there were places to camp.  I knew there was a bird hide by the lake about half a mile beyond the centre and thought this could offer good shelter.  So, just before midnight, I left checkpoint 1.5 and headed down the road.  The bird hide already had two occupants but there was plenty of room for me.  As quietly as I could I got my head down.  It was just a wind-tight wooden hut but the bird hide was a perfect bivvy site.  Through the night at least 7 of us slept there.

Wet, wet, wet.

Five hours sleep in the world of Spine Racers is considered to be an early night followed by a long lie in.  I woke at 5.15 to the sound of rain drilling on the tin roof and the wind howling under the hut. The bird hide is on stilts above the tarn and the wind was driving the water into white horses that we sloshing under the hut.  But we were still dry.  I dressed and packed and was under way by 5.30.  It's much quicker when you have no choice of kit to make.

The night time crossing of Fountains fell was an epic traverse.  The rain was being driven into us by 30 - 40 mph winds once more but this section runs more east to west and so the wind was much more into the face.  I was wearing glasses again to stop the rain from stinging my eyes.  I was expecting to start to see the dawn appearing at about 6 - 6.30 as the silhouettes of the hills emerge and gradually the details start to be filled in.  By 7.30 there was still little evidence that the sun had risen at all. Thick mist and dark clouds blocked out most of the light.  I was heavily reliant on my GPS to reassure me on this section  particularly as I was on my own.

Curiously, I was enjoying myself again.  The weather conditions were as foul as they could be but I felt strong and warm and was moving at what seemed like a good pace.  It maybe that not having people to follow meant I naturally fell into the pace best suited to me.  But I was having a good day.

I was me at the road by some of the Mountain Safety Team who advised me that the route was no longer going over the summit of Pen-y-gent but missing out the top 200 metres of climb and heading directly to Horton in Ribblesdale.  The diversion was marked at a gate with glow sticks.  This gate faced the wind directly and required both hands on and legs at 45 degree angle to push it open. Downhill into the wind had me leaning forward at a crazy angle and nearly pitched me head under heels every time the wind briefly dropped.  I caught a few other spiners on the decent and we reached the intermediate checkpoint at Horton around 8.30 am.  The cafe was open and it felt like we'd earned breakfast.  I had bacon and beans on toast with a pint of tea.  I could have stopped all day but I managed to get myself back on the trail again about 9.15.

The Cam High Road is an old drovers track leading to Hawes.  It's broad and well made and generally offers fast going.

When its not under water anyway.

There were a number of sections like this (left) where the track was knee-deep in water.  I was still trying to preserve the dryness of my feet as much as possible and so ended up taking 5 minute diversions to get around some of these obstacles

To the right is a section of the Cam road that runs alongside the river.  (The river is the river on the left and the track is the river on the right)

The wind did not let up along this section but at last it seemed to be pushing us along.

I passed a good many Spine Challengers along this section who had their finish line at Hawes in sight.  And around here I met up with Keri and Rob who I would see lots more of over the next few days.

Around the summit of Dodd Fell the wind was as high as we'd seen through the previous 48 hours. It was cross wind again and made walking in a straight line impossible. I stretched out as Rob and Keri stopped to attend to a blister and made it to Hawes at around 2 pm. I wanted to eat, change my wet kit, restock my food and get off as quickly as possible to not waste any daylight.  This took a clumsy ponderous hour and a half.  A number of Spine Challengers competed during this time and it's a mark of how fit I was feeling that I felt I was the lucky one because I still had several days of adventure left to go.

To be continued...