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Calderdale Way in 5 days

Over the last couple of months I’ve been working my way around the Calderdale Way in various stages, 50 miles or so in total with 2500 metres of ascent. The original idea was to do it in 6 stages, clockwise, to correspond with the format of the Calderdale Way Relay in May. This would mean driving to each start point and, having completed each leg, returning there either on foot or by public transport. I’ve previously ticked off completions of the Leeds Country Way and Bradford Millennium Way, so Calderdale felt like the next obvious circuit to tackle. I was also inspired by reading various books and maps by Chris Goddard, which really bring the area to life and I highly recommend. Here’s how I got on:

Sun 24 Jan 2024: Shelf to Salterhebble return, 26km, 715m (Leg 6)

I chose to start at the point of the CW closest to my home in Bradford, namely Shelf to the east of Halifax, mainly to minimise driving. Confusingly, this meant that my first run was going to be Leg 6 of the relay route, the second run Leg 1 and so on, finishing with Leg 5. Well, it made sense in my head.

Initially, a 20-minute drive to Shelf early on a Sunday morning. Ideally I prefer quiet car parks over parking on the street, particularly at this time of year – gives you a bit more space to change your socks and bang your shoes at the end of a muddy run. Shelf has such a car park, but a sign saying it would be locked at 4pm put me off, so the main road it was. I’m a bit of a pessimist and didn’t want to fret about some random delay getting me back late, running is much about letting stupid worries in life drain away.

The first bit was generally downhill towards Brighouse, through woods and fields. Last time I was here was 2006, running Leg 6 for Valley Striders in the relay. It was a December event then – leg partner Steve and I set off with the mass start at 2pm and got to the finish in the dark, no headtorch. I remembered bits and pieces of that as I went along. Midway I weaved my way through the streets of Brighouse, onto the canal, past the impressive flour mill/climbing wall, up through some woods and then more road. In fact, I was to find that the CW overall has a surprising amount of tarmac – perhaps 10% of the whole route – although this did provide some relief from the otherwise incessant mud.

A very bad bit of road came at Salterhebble where they’re building a new stretch of highway. Roadworks blocked the pavement that you’re meant to run along, so I had to take my chances dodging traffic and cones in a contraflow system. Better was the return to Shelf via the Hebble Trail into Halifax, then climbing Beacon Hill and back via Shibden Park. I had a quick look at Shibden Hall (closed for winter), 19th-century home of Anne Lister, famous for her 4 million-word private diary written in code (now cracked and translated). Eventually back to the car with half the mud of Calderdale attached to legs and shoes, this was to be the theme from now on.

Sat 3 Feb: Salterhebble to Cragg Vale, 33km, 670m (Leg 1)

I pulled up at another car park with a suspicious-looking gate, next to the canal. No off-putting signs this time though, so I risked it.

A mile along the road, into the woods then immediately lost the route, adding half a mile. The first of a few similar errors all-told. I was relying for nav. on the paper OS South Pennines map, which wasn’t always clear or easy to keep dry.

Above North Dean Woods I passed close to Stainland Rec, which according to Chris used to host games of “Knur & Spell”. A bit of googling later revealed this to be a quaint Yorkshire tradition, colloquially poor-man’s golf. The idea being to smack a ball suspended in a sling as far as possible with a wooden club. It was also played in Barnsley, and contests used to be described as the world championships. There are a couple of unintentionally-hilarious old videos on youtube that are beyond parody. Much better than real golf.

Onto Norland Moor, an unusual flat expense of heather on high ground. Approaching the edge, a cold wind and lashing rain really swept in. The next bit to Ripponden was just survival, but there was some respite once down in the valley.

Further on I found more shelter on top of the next moor, in what appeared to be something like a wartime pill-box. In fact, Chris reveals it to be a WW2 bombing decoy bunker, a so-called Starfish site. Fire and light displays on the moor were coordinated from here to divert German bombers from their intended urban targets. There’s no great evidence these were successful, but their existence says much about those times.

Finally, descending to Cragg Vale the battering from the weather relented and the return jog was surprisingly pleasant. Initially down the valley of Cragg Vale itself, full of lovely woods, a lively river and interesting early-industrial remains. Then along the canal from Mytholmroyd – a bit of a long drag but a quick off-road return to base.

Thurs 15 Feb, Cragg Vale to Todmorden, 9km, 270m (Leg 2)

Quite a straightforward leg this, along a mile of road to the reservoir, up and over the moor to Mankinholes, then down through the fields to Tod.

I quite like the bit by the reservoir as back in 2002 I had a fellrunning “Road to Damascus” experience here. I had just moved to West Yorkshire and was out for a solo ramble in January, getting increasingly cold, when a fast runner came past me from behind. He was followed shortly after by another, and turning I saw a field of 100 more on the way, a fell race no less. I immediately thought that looked much more fun than getting cold in walking boots, joined a fellrunning club shortly afterwards and have never looked back.

Another bit of reminiscing came later on, passing YHA Mankinholes. I was employed by YHA from 2019 to 2022 and my time there included a week looking after this hostel. It was a doddle really as I just had to clear up after one group left and get the place ready for another arriving. But it was one of many hostels YHA put on the market last year, so it may not be a YH much longer.

It had only taken an hour to get to Tod and I was weighing up how to get back to Cragg Vale. My first thought was to quickly look in at the station and see when the next train to Mytholmroyd was. Answer – it was on the platform, so having confirmed with the assistant that I could buy a ticket on the train I jumped on. The train passed through Hebden and I motioned to get off at Mytholmroyd. The train sped straight through, and didn’t stop until Halifax. On the platform the assistant asked me what I was doing there, why hadn’t I changed at Hebden? Pleading ignorance I asked for advice. Get on the next train to Brighouse, then change. An hour after last seeing Mytholmroyd, I eventually alighted at it. The jog back up Cragg Vale lightened my mood.

Sat 2 March, Todmorden to Luddendenfoot, 33km, 940m (Legs 3 + 4)

This turned out to be much the toughest outing – length, climb, weather, underfoot conditions. Ironically, it was the one I felt best on, and decided to extend further than originally planned.

Rather than finding a spot in Tod itself, I parked in the free car park by the main road a mile out of town, and jogged in along the canal. I passed a community allotment (there’s a lot of that kind of thing in Calderdale) with a sign warning “Trespassers will be Composted”. I should have taken a photo of this rotten gag – nearly 30 years ago my first paid job was to encourage people to make compost and I still have a bin at home.

The CW makes a slightly unnecessary loop around Tod, bringing you out about a mile up the road after 4 miles and a big hill of effort. Another long climb brought me out onto more exposed terrain, with snow flurries and a churning mix of snow and mud underfoot. Progress was snail-like through this. But things got a bit easier around Heptonstall, which had been a possible turn-around point, and I found myself carrying on down to Midgehole. Again, I gave turning around some thought but chose to press on, perhaps thinking I should get this CW thing boxed off while I’m here rather than plan too many more wet and cold days out. Up top I skirted the edge of Midgley Moor. It felt a bit 50-50 to be up there in these conditions, but if I wanted to bail I could be off in just a few minutes. It turned out OK though and eventually the CW drops off the moor to Jerusalem Farm, where I finally decided I’d had enough. A 2 mile jog down the road brought me out at Luddendenfoot. The bus stop showed just a 10-minute wait, and 15 minutes after that I was back at the car. Public transport’s great when it works.

Sun 17 March, Shelf to Booth, 16km, 450m (Leg 5)

So, just the final leg to go, Jerusalem Farm to Shelf. My original plan was to do it as a there and back from Shelf, so I could say I’d done the whole thing in a clockwise direction. But this day didn’t bode well for such a long run. I was nursing a sore hamstring and the weather remained drizzly. I set off from Shelf gingerly, walking mainly to start with and jogging the easy bits. Normally, things get easier once you’re underway but events contrived to chip away at my enthusiasm. The mud was glutinous and I made one, then a second route-finding mistake. I didn’t really have the heart to go back and follow the route-proper, which was fiddly and erratically marked. For much of the CW you see the familiar waymark logo and could almost navigate without a map, but there are stretches where it’s not obvious at all, such as this. It took 2 and a half hours to do the 10 miles to Jerusalem Farm, and I wasn’t going to turn round and repeat it. This time, I walked up the hill to Booth and found a bus was due in 15 minutes. This gave me time to get my leggings and shoes off and make myself presentable. The bus took me round the houses but eventually to Halifax, where I changed for one back to Shelf. I was content this meant I had now completed a full circuit of the Calderdale Way.

To sum up….

The CW is a challenging route, up and down over mixed terrain of moors, fields, tracks and tarmac. I did it at the most difficult time of year, often in cold and rain and with plentiful mud underfoot. Route-finding is often straightforward, but not always (anyone doing the Relay in May should certainly recce their leg in advance). The scenery is generally very good and there’s much of interest on the way. Shops and places of refreshment are available on the route itself most obviously at Brighouse, Ripponden and Todmorden. The valley’s bus and train links give good options for doing circular ventures, with the route passing close to the train stations at Brighouse and Tod.

I mentioned at the start that I’ve previously done the Leeds Country Way and Bradford Millennium Way. By that I mean I have completed both of those in several stages first, before doing a full circuit in a single day. Doing the Calderdale Way in a single day would be noticeably tougher, and at present it feels well beyond me. Saying that, others have done it…..

Coincidentally, a few weeks ago Chris published a map of the CW, which is a nice momento of the route and full of detail about points of interest along the way – available on his site for £6.99. It would also be good for route-planning; I’m sure spring and summer on the Calderdale Way are nicer than the conditions I encountered, there won’t always be all that mud.

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November fell and trail races

A quick preview of 7 local fell and trail races coming up this month:

Sat 4 Nov, 1pm: Shepherd’s Skyline – 6 miles, 350m climb, £6 EOD, HQ Shepherd’s Rest Inn nr Todmorden. A nice run along the skyline to Stoodley Pike, a steep drop, a climb back up and a final descent. Bogs, rocks + pub, what more do you want.

Sun 5 Nov, 10.30am: Cop Hill – 6 miles, 275m climb, £5 pre-entry or EOD, HQ Meltham Sports Centre. More hilly multi-terrain than fell but still a good race on a 2-lap course.

Sat 11 Nov, 10.30am: Post Hill Challenge – 5.6km, £8 pre-entry, HQ Troydale Social Club. Undulating 2-lap course featuring 2 climbs of the (in)famous Post Hill; not technically a fell race but it feels like one – pace it carefully. If you think this is daft, compare with 1920s-style racing on Post Hill.

Sat 11 Nov, 11am: Holly Hustle – 7 miles, £15 pre-entry, HQ Meanwood Institute. Going head-to-head with Post Hill, Adam has lined up plenty of mud for the 5th running of this Great Owl trail race up + down Meanwood Valley.  

Sun 12 Nov, 11am Wadsworth Half Trog, 9 miles, 420m climb, £6 pre-entry or EOD, HQ Hare and Hounds Pub nr Hebden Bridge. Not done this one but any race with the word “trog” in it can only mean mud, bog and perhaps some more mud.

Sat 18 Nov, 10.30am, Tour of Pendle, 17 miles, 1500m climb, £10 pre-entry by cheque (yes, still). HQ Barley Village Hall. My 3 top tips: i) expect to park half a mile from the start, ii) pack a £10 note for tea and cake after, iii) the race doesn’t start until you’re about 10 miles in. Not for the faint-hearted, enjoy.

Sat 25 Nov, 2pm, Harriers v Cyclists, 5 miles, 300m climb, £10 pre-entry, HQ Bradford & Bingley Sports Club. 100 runners and 100 cyclists jostle it out together through the mud, up Shipley Glen to Baildon Moor and back. A whole lot of daft fun in what will be my final fell race for Valley Striders before switching to NLFR, hope to see a few of you there (and perhaps for refreshment after).

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Moonlighting with the neighbours

Just want to say a big thanks here to everyone at North Leeds Fell Runners, who’ve all been so welcoming at the Tuesday night training sessions I’ve tagged along with this year. I’m pleased to say that (finally) I’ve joined NLFR 2nd claim and look forward to being involved in the club.

I’ve been a 1st claim member of neighbouring club Valley Striders for 8 years now. Valley has a fair sprinkling of fellrunners in its ranks, with the trend amongst members being towards increasingly challenging and exotic fellrunning adventures. There is less though in the way of regular training sessions or meet-ups at local races, so that’s why it’s been nice to try things out with NLFR, where this is more established. Many thanks guys for the warm and relaxed welcome to the club.

As that suggests, I do quite like a local race and it’s been nice to meet some fellow, er, enthusiasts from NLFR at races this summer – Jack Bloor, Coiners, Crow Hill, King’s Challenge, Burnsall and (yesterday) Malham Show included. Just to mention I’m potentially available to offer lifts to races if it’s not too far out of my way (I live in Bradford). Eg last week I gave Jonny a lift to Burnsall from Ilkley train station; in return he paid for the parking, let me beat him in the race by 4 seconds and didn’t mind when I dropped his skyer in the egg-throwing competition – a fair deal all round.

Elsewhere on my blog are write-ups of various races I’ve done and I often like giving good ones a plug. While many were off at the champs race at Sedbergh last weekend, I tried the lower-key Crowden Horseshoe for the first time. I had it in my head this would be a proper Dark Peak bog trot so wouldn’t be too harsh on my legs, still sore from Burnsall the day before. I also wanted to escape the moral dilemma, on the morning of the World Cup final, of having drawn Spain in a sweepstake.

Turned out I reckoned wrong on both counts! The 11am start at Crowden campsite coincided with kick-off in the footy, which was broadcast loud and clear to us over the radio. Once underway, the race route was surprisingly technical, calling for much more twinkled-toed rock avoidance than anticipated. Good job conditions were fine and the long descent back from Black Hill so scenic, helped keep my mind off the aching legs. Went straight from the finish to the river and sat in it for some time, nature’s own ice-bath treatment. Came back to a slightly downbeat campsite, Spain having won the final and I was now, awkwardly, £50 richer. After wrestling with it on the drive home, I donated my winnings to Mountain Rescue. Happy to have done that, after all I might have needed them if that race had been much longer!

Hope to see you on the fells soon.  

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Helvellyn and the Dodds Fell Race

Sat 27.5.23, AL, 24km, 1337m

In preparation for a forthcoming club Bob Graham weekend I’ve been trying to get to know the BGR route better, both my own allocated leg (Leg 3) and, in case of last minute changes of plan, other sections not previously visited. A couple of weekends ago this had me and pal Simon recceing Leg 3. The good news – we got round the full leg; the bad news – it completely exposed how poorly prepared I was for taking on a challenge like this. Most obviously I just didn’t get the food and drink right, both out on the fell and in between. I was struggling by the end, so lessons to be learned!

With fresh resolve I decided to have a look at Leg 2 this weekend, a leg I’ve not done before. After the Leg 3 debacle I thought it was sensible to break it down into sections rather than tackle it all at once. By happy coincidence, my old club Keswick AC were putting on their annual Helvellyn and the Dodds race on Saturday, which covers the first half of the leg. This would then give me the rest of the Bank Holiday weekend to look at the remainder.

The race starts at Threlkeld Cricket Club, traditional handover point between Legs 1 and 2 on the BGR. Please note they’ve just put in a parking meter – £3 in coins or by parking app. Parking apps give me a nosebleed, particularly in remote areas with poor coverage, and I didn’t have any coins; fortunately a friendly face was on registration, my old colleague Catherine. She didn’t have a lot of change but we struck a deal of 3 pound coins in return for my £20 note; with entry being £14 that put Keswick AC £3 to the good, but it seemed a small price to pay for a technophobe like me!

Cat also gave me the top tip of watch out for the climbs on the way back. This was helpful as it seemed difficult in advance to work out this race. In one way it seemed pretty straightforward – climb up onto the ridge, run along it for 5 miles, come back the same way. But it’s still an AL fell race which means it must be hard, one way or another.

The other useful bit of intelligence was that there was no water on the route. This meant that my new filtration water bottle (ref. Leg 3 debacle, above) wasn’t going to be much help, so how much to take? Conditions were fine, but blissfully cooler than forecast earlier in the week. With the course record being 2 hours I reckoned I’d do well to get in under 3, so took about a litre, along with an apple, a piece of flapjack and some almonds. Full kit was enforced which meant quite a heavy rucksack but I was happy to err on the cautious side, this was just about getting more experienced at negotiating a long run. Meanwhile I looked at those with seemingly tiny loads with some wonder.

Race start at 11am and a jog along the tarmac for the first half mile, before hitting the open fell. Before long, we were walking up the steep grass steps of Clough Head. Already I was beginning to factor in how it would be coming back – this is a tough climb, but the descent in 3 hours’ time will be worse! This climb must be hard when you’re doing the BGR for real – Yewbarrow I guess is the only one that compares for continual steepness and height?

Eventually we topped out to the first checkpoint, followed by a long downhill to a depression (but yes, we will have to climb this on the way back). Up to the second checkpoint at Great Dodd; with an hour gone I had my first food and water stop. I was fine with taking a minute or two here, I don’t much like eating and drinking on the go and the views across to the central Lakes were stunning. In fact with the ground underfoot not too technical it was possible to take in the views much more today than other races I’ve done, where a quick scan of the horizon can so easily be followed by a trip.

From here the next checkpoint is Raise, which means the best line skirts the BG tops of Watson’s Dodd and Stybarrow Dodd. Mental note to navigate carefully here on a BG day, particularly at night/in mist. Just before the summit of Raise the mildly depressing sight of the leaders returning the other way. Some more ups and downs via White Side and Helvellyn Lower Man until eventually reaching the cheerful marshals on top of Helvellyn, celebrated with my piece of flapjack. 8 BG tops visited in less than 2 hours, if it was all like that we’d be doing it in 10 hours!

Still, it seemed a long way back, but fortunately my legs were still moving OK on the descents and the climbs, although long, were manageable. I got a lesson in proper fellrunning though from an older guy from Keswick – while I kept overtaking him on the climbs he was coming past on every descent, having picked the perfect line. Eventually, back to the top of Clough Head. I finished off my food and water, took a complimentary sweet balanced on top of the trigpoint and began tentatively descending the steps. Several proper fellrunners stormed past as I tiptoed down, but as long as I was moving I was fine about it. Eventually back to the tarmac and a more comfortable run in, feeling more like a closet road runner than a fellrunner. Back in just under 3hrs 15mins, 49th of 102.

If I’d had a niggly sense that £14 (£17) was a bit steep for a low-key fell race I soon found out it was an absolute bargain. A huge spread of free sandwiches, cake, juice and tea was laid out, and I didn’t miss out. In fact, many of us were still there an hour or two later, enjoying the sunshine, shared experience and hospitality – thank you Keswick AC!

As a postscript, seemingly well fed and recovered I returned the day after to have a look at the rest of the leg. The plan was to go up Helvellyn from Dunmail then return via the BG route. But the climb was surprisingly hard work, and while admiring the view of Striding Edge the apple I was eating almost slipped out of my hand; good job it didn’t as it would have ended up in Red Tarn 1000 feet below! I took that as a sign that maybe Fairfield and Seat Sandal were best left for another day. It’s one thing to do short/medium fell races, but this longer and multi-day stuff is a whole different order. Still more to learn, I’ll be pondering that while watching the footie with my feet up this afternoon!

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The Race Against Time

Review of “The Race Against Time – Adventures in Late-Life Running” by Richard Askwith

Once a decade it seems Richard Askwith writes the definitive guide to keeping running interesting as you grow older. 2004’s “Feet in the Clouds” saw him escape from chasing PBs on suburban pavements to finding the freedom of the fells. A decade later, in the rural Midlands, 2014’s “Running Free” thought even more laterally about how to connect running to nature, whether it was by inventing running games in which you got deliberately lost or were voluntarily chased by a pack of hounds. And now in 2023 he has completed a trinity – “The Race Against Time” is a hugely upbeat and positive presentation of what running can do for you in even-later life, right up to the age of 100+ (if you’re lucky enough to get that far).

The book sticks to a trusted formula of generally surveying the so-called “Masters” scene (interviews with some of its leading figures, exploring the science of ageing etc) alongside the author’s own experiences. As someone who’s just turned “the wrong side of 50” there is much to be optimistic about here, not least how running can significantly improve your quality of life and independence in your later decades.

A recurring theme in the book is that you need to train smarter as you get older, with a greater focus on fewer, more intense workouts with greater recovery…. rather than just daily steady running. Not least to slow the rate of inevitable decline in muscles, the nervous system etc as you age. I particularly liked the analogy on p.220 in conversation with coach Pete Magill about how to avoid injury by varying your training:

“It’s like having a garden and you only water a third of it. And then the next day you only water the same third, and then the next day, and the next. And then you say – why is two thirds of my garden dead, when I water it every day?”

This sounds encouraging to me, as a fellrunner. My average “fell run” at the moment has unconsciously evolved into a walk/scramble up a hill to start, a jog along the top with several stops to take in views, have a chat/bite to eat, have a swim etc…. then an eyeballs-out descent back to the start. In other words, during a 3-hour “run”, I might only be running fast for half an hour. Meanwhile, running on the uneven terrain of the fells builds up strength all over your body. Mixing this with regular (and generally shorter) races and touch wood, I’m in reasonable shape at the moment and more importantly, really enjoying my running. (And ironically, since ditching a deliberately “competitive” mindset, I’ve been going a bit faster, and certainly getting injured less).

In fact if there’s one obvious gap in the book it’s that our fellrunning guru doesn’t focus more on the exploits of older runners on the fells. There are inspiring achievements by fellrunning “Masters”, whether the more obvious ones like Ken Taylor (first Bob Graham completion by a V70) or the evergreen Wendy Dodds, to more humble figures like Trevor Metcalfe (only V70 completer of this year’s BOFRA series of short-but-tough races) or my club-mate Steve, still entering AL Fell Races as a V70. We will all know similarly inspiring role-models.

You would have thought that a new running book by Richard Askwith would have been preceded by a bit more of a splash, but this one has sneaked out at quite short notice. Nonetheless, with the wind howling as I type it’s come at a good time – we need all the motivation we can to get out there, and once again this will do the trick. £18.99 well spent.

Available here

Podcast review

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Wasdale Show Fell Race

8 October 2022

I’ve never done one of those VK (Vertical Kilometre) races, where you have to climb 1000 metres in 5k. However, the grassroots fellrunning calendar does have the Wasdale Show Race, 700m of climb in 2k. And unlike a VK, you have to come back down as well. I’d not run this race before either, but having been up & down Kirk Fell a few times I knew exactly what tomfoolery I’d be letting myself in for. Yesterday, a chance to tick another one off the bucket-list.

I was up near Ambleside for work this week anyway, so with a 2pm race start tried to make the most of the day. For a bit of a warm-up, knowing that the Langdale race started at 11am, I parked at the New Dungeon Ghyll at 10.30 and walked up Stickle Ghyll to the tarn to catch the runners coming through. 607 of them entered, according to the list online. It was quite a profound sight to glimpse the pack from far above, advancing up the ghyll like a colony of ants escaping from a disturbed nest. Soon enough, the cream of English fellrunning zipped past, followed in time by the more familiar midpack. Although it was a big field for a fell race, it didn’t feel like 600…. and in fact the results show that 421 started, which seems a pretty high drop-out rate, particularly as conditions were good.

Back to the car for midday, with a couple of hours to get to Wasdale. It’s only a few miles over the fells as the crow flies but the drive is way longer, and as I’d never been over Wrynose & Hardknott before I thought I should give myself plenty of time. Good job I did, Hardknott in particular is a crazy road and combined with a lot of pulling into passing places I didn’t get to the showfield until half 1. Well, at least no hanging around getting cold….

Weather still OK but this is Wasdale Head and it looked like it could change at any moment. A full rainbow cast across the fell and I started wondering about kit. It was warm enough down here so thought just a t-shirt under the vest would be sufficient, plus the obligatory waterproof.

Race underway, a 50 yard dash across the field to a mass stile-crossing, and that’s the last bit of flat until you get back to the same place in an hour’s time, and the last bit of running until you get almost to the top. A running race in which 90% of the climb is a walk….. The first half is up grass steps; seems tough enough until you hit scree further up. The scree was diabolical, one step up, two down. I started scratching around for anywhere with grip, and took an off-piste traverse to the right. Sure enough, an easier line, and a mental note to return the same way. Two thirds up and the race leader runs past me on the way back down; he’ll be done and on the way home by the time I get back. A nasty squall comes over so it’s waterproof on as we pick our way over easier ground to the top. Respect to the MRT guy who is stationed at the cairn, checking us through.

And now the descent. I’d tried to pace things on the climb so that I’d have something in the legs for coming down. It’s not so much about getting out of breath on this race, more whether your legs are still functioning by the finish! The first bit OK, but there was no avoiding a stretch of steep scree, some of it runnable but much badly eroded and just a slide. All about keeping your balance and getting down in one piece. Eventually, back to the grassy steps…. potentially quicker lines were available to the side but the squall had left them awkwardly greasy, so I kept to the steps for better grip, even though this was much more quad-destroying. At last, the stile again and an undignified jelly-legged waddle across the field to the finish. Straight to the river for nature’s own ice-bath treatment, hopefully the stiffness won’t be too bad this week.

There probably aren’t too many 4k races where it feels an achievement just to finish, but I was pleased to get round & do so in under an hour. And then just the small matter of the 3 and a half hour drive home. The late afternoon sun was out and it felt dreamy and other-worldly on the narrow West Cumbrian roads around Black Combe – never been up there before so one to return to. 3 and a half hours to drive to a 1 hour fell race, sounds daft…. promise I won’t do it again for, er, at least a week – Fell Relays in the Scottish Borders on Saturday!

https://www.strava.com/activities/7932340987

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Bradford Millennium Way – full circuit

13 September 2022

aka How to run for 9 & a half hours and miss an FKT by 1 minute

I’ve never been too bothered by records and Fastest Known Times (FKTs) before. Mainly because I’ve never been anywhere near them. And running’s meant to be about process not goals, right? It’s about enjoying the scenery, the exploring, the adventure….. if faster times come your way that’s just a bonus, surely.

Still, in planning a full round of the Bradford Millennium Way over the last few weeks, I thought it would be useful to get some idea of how long it might take. Was it already too late in the year? – I don’t fancy getting the headtorch out quite yet. So, a quick look at the FKT site…. turns out a lad from Ilkley called Matthew had done 9hrs 34mins a few weeks ago. OK, so an early-enough start would give me 13 hours daylight, sounds doable. Better get a wriggle on though before those days start drawing in….

This had me at the bottom of Shipley Glen at 6.40am on Tuesday. It was a little misty but not too cold, and the forecast was great, 19-20 degrees max later on. Perfect running conditions.

I’d decided to travel clockwise, to get the fiddly sections up to Penistone Hill out of the way first, rather than having to worry about map-reading and micro-nav at the end when I’d be knackered. This helped as I didn’t set off too fast…. saying that when I finally reached the more runnable sections it felt right to push things a bit, just to keep the legs moving.

To my surprise, reached the obvious half-way point, Eastburn Stores, at 11.30 feeling pretty good. Hadn’t touched any of the grub I’d packed so just bought juice and water at the shop (the only one directly on route) and pressed on.

Could have guessed this is where the bad patch would kick in. Slowed to a walk for several miles around Silsden, just concentrating on getting the food & water down while I could. Downhills for some reason seemed particularly difficult and it was actually a relief to start the climb from Addingham up onto the moor. Things were improving… and reached the top just after 2pm, 7 and a half hours in. Felt pretty upbeat, just that familiar skirting of Ilkley Moor to go. Made the mistake of thinking about the FKT for the first time….

Cue wheels fell off a bit. Should be a lovely descent down into Ilkley but just couldn’t get things going. Got to the stream at Keighley Road, shoes & socks came off & just sat in the water until feeling returned to the legs. Shuffled along Rocky Valley and realised I’d need another boost pdq, this time a slug of Coke from the Cow & Calf cafe, just off route. The sugar & caffeine kicked in straight away which got me back up Burley Moor….. then dissolved equally quickly, so it was back to walking to the shooting cabin. The one remaining snack went in there and again was able to pick it up down to Bingley Road before really hitting a wall at the tarmac. Just over a mile to go and you’re seriously wondering if you’re going to make it round at all! Eventually, out of the woods above Shipley Glen, just that nice wide path and back down to the Coach Road left. Finally, a genuine belief that you’re going to get round, everything relaxes and miraculously a sprint finish comes from nowhere.

Back to the car, stop watch. Collapse on grass. 4.15pm – 9hrs 35mins. A minute outside the FKT. Could I have found that extra minute from somewhere? Nope, I went as fast as I could and was just glad to keep going and finish. Did it matter? No, it really had been about another memorable day’s adventure after all.

https://www.strava.com/activities/7802062570

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Borrowdale Fell Race 2022

Long races in the Lakes are very challenging for lots of reasons, not least length, ascent/descent, the terrain underfoot, weather + the need for detailed route knowledge. I’ve only ever got my head around doing one – Borrowdale – and then only because I spent a recent summer living there and getting to know the fells well. This came in handy during last week’s race.

The other challenge I’ve been grappling with of late is getting my eating & drinking (sorry, “fuelling strategy”) right. I’m bad enough in day-to-day life, let alone a long fell race. The day started with breakfast at 6am, and the plan was for that to be it until after the race. (Pleased to say this worked pretty well, and all that passed my lips during the race was the bottle of water I carried, 4 jelly babies handed out by spectators + some extra juice/water from the “trough” at Honister).

Conditions seemed ideal at the start line at 11am. About 18 degrees, dry, no wind, tops clear. In traditional last-minute-kit-change fashion, I ditched the base layer and just ran in the Striders vest the whole way round (cag in bag of course), and this turned out fine.

The previous time I ran the race (2019) I’d set off quite fast, not least to avoid the bottleneck onto the Cumbria Way, just a couple of minutes in. The plan yesterday, by comparison, was to start slowly and hope I always had something left in the tank for the later climbs & descents. It’s a bit odd standing around for a minute or two 200 yards into a race but I tried to see it as a positive.

After a gentle mile or two from the start in Rosthwaite we passed through the fell wall (saying hi to Billy Bland, who is always stationed there) & immediately the race began in earnest with the direct 1500ft climb of Bessyboot, straight up. A reminder that Borrowdale is not a conventional running race – you spend as much time walking, scrambling, boulder-hopping & scree-running as you do running.

With Bessyboot boxed off it was a relief to get onto the trod that skirts round Glaramara. It was a little damp underfoot on this section due to recent rain but this helped keep me in check and not go too fast. Esk Hause is checkpoint 2, then we joined the tourist path up to the top of Scafell Pike, finding a few minor variations to the side. At this point, as befits the highest mountain in the country, the drizzle started falling and the nature of the race changed; initially, hopping the boulders on the way up to the summit needed extra care. Still, got to the top at 1pm, 2 hours in, which felt about right.

Rarely on Borrowdale do you get the chance to get into any kind of rhythm, due to the ever-changing nature of the terrain. After the climb of the Pike, it’s straight onto the (in)famous scree-run to join the Corridor Route. I actually found this a little easier than last time, I think because I was further down the field – it meant that the zig-zag line through the scree was a bit clearer, also fewer faster scree-runners coming hurtling past. Still, it was as much as I could do to stay on my feet and I did have to let one rolling boulder pass harmlessly by. I did get overtaken a few times & I can only marvel at those that turn scree-running into an effortless art. It took me over 3 minutes to complete the segment, the CR is 1:04!

I got to the bottom of the scree and decided it was worth the time to empty my shoes of rubble. Always a bit frustrating to see loads of people overtake but I think it was worth it overall.

It was then back to more conventional running down the Corridor Route to Sty Head. However, it was pretty greasy underfoot by now and extra care was needed. There are some faster, grassier lines to the left and at some point you need to decide where to short-cut across to the checkpoint. I played it safe and stayed on the path longer than most.

Sty Head is the first of 2 cut-offs, you need to be there in 3 and a half hours. I was there in 2:26 so no worries; saying that, it’s galling to think that after going up and halfway down the highest mountain in the country you’ve still got the business part of the race in front of you. Initially, it was the long slog up to the top of Great Gable, helped by a few jelly babies handed out at Sty Head. The climb, of course, seemed to go on forever. On top, the clag had really come down thick. I trusted previous knowledge, headed right, followed a few cairns and fortunately came in sight of a few runners making the awkward descent down to Windy Gap.

At this point, I followed the trod around to the right, which saves the short climb up Green Gable. In clear conditions, it pretty obviously brings you round to the path up Brandreth and saves you a couple of minutes. But right now it was misty and I soon realised I was heading downhill too soon and must have veered too far to the right. Others around seemed to agree and by some instinct we swung left and back uphill, finding the Brandreth path with some relief a couple of minutes later. Someone mentioned that in clag it’s your best bet just to go over the top of Green Gable and this seems sensible advice.

Fortunately, we came out of the mist at this point making the run down to Honister more straightforward. Legs were getting pretty achy by now though and still the thought of one more climb and descent to go….

The best that can be said about the climb up Dale Head is that it’s not difficult, just long, you get juice & jelly babies before it at Honister, you know you’re through the second cut-off and there are no more climbs to do after it! I’ve done this climb loads, but never has it felt more drawn-out than this time.

Eventually got to the top, dibbed the final checkpoint…. and then the sting in the tail. You’ve done 15 miles over rough terrain, climbed 2000 metres, only 2 miles to go….. but it’s the steep and rough 2000ft descent of Dale Head, a challenge in itself. I always take a curved line off the top here to avoid the worst steepness and rocks; yesterday, my curve was even more exaggerated than usual, but by this point all thought of times and positions were out of the window, it was just about finishing. Once over the stile halfway down I took the slightly quicker line to the left avoiding the main path through the quarries, but either way it was pretty awkward over those damp rocks.

Finally, I got to the bottom and just the flat-half mile along the track back to the finish to go. Legs pretty much gave up at this point and it ended up a pretty undignified shuffle. Fortunately, others were the same and I didn’t lose any places. Part of the folklore of Borrowdale is that this half-mile is the toughest of all! Some nice encouragement from other runners and spectators coming through Rosthwaite got me over the line.

I came in 104th out of 228 finishers + 27 DNFs. Time was 4hr 22mins, 3 minutes slower than my previous time in 2019. But really it’s just about getting round, finishing is winning. Got back to the car and a bit gutted to find I hadn’t packed the camping chair; I did have a picnic rug though so just laid it out on the grass, collapsed onto it for 10 minutes & waited to feel human again.

A thought for future years – the car parking field doubles as a camping field where (I believe) you can camp the night before & after the race. A large flat field with loads of space to spread out. An idea for a future Striders camping weekend perhaps. Many say Borrowdale is the best race on the calendar and who’d disagree?

https://www.strava.com/activities/7593200358/overview

In the Trespassers’ footsteps
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In the Trespassers’ footsteps

The campaign for access to fells and moors has been ongoing since the 19th Century and, thanks to a combination of direct actions and more formal negotiations, we now enjoy much-improved rights than before. But it’s the Kinder Mass Trespass of 24 April 1932, when 400 ramblers gathered outside Hayfield in the Peak District and marched on the then-forbidden land of Kinder Scout, that stands out as the most symbolic event in the campaign for the right to roam. Its 90th anniversary is coming up later this month.

Today, it seems unthinkable that you couldn’t just go for a walk or run on Kinder. A magnificent sweep of upland territory, so close to major conurbations, just begging to be explored. Particularly for us fellrunners, who don’t just stick to the main paths but like to wander and stravaig off-piste at will. So I thought it would be fitting to pay a small tribute to the Trespassers’ legacy by having a run on Kinder sometime this April – yesterday, I got the chance.

I drove round to Hayfield and parked at the Bowden Bridge car park. How convenient that back in 1932 this was the quarry where the Trespassers gathered and began their walk, recognised now by a memorial plaque.

From here, I went along the road and then beside Kinder Reservoir to the bottom of William Clough, as had the Trespassers. They then headed up the clough, where they were confronted by a dozen of the landowner’s men, arrayed on the slopes of Sandy Heys above. After a brief skirmish, they continued to the top of the clough, where they met up with other groups arriving from Edale and the Snake, before returning to Hayfield.

William Clough is a decent little vale to explore, but I chose a slightly different route yesterday, more in keeping with my current tastes. Last year I spent much time in the Peaks doing some simple Grade 1 scrambling; I’m also quite partial to fast-but-not-too-technical descents, so here was a chance to do one of my favorite circuits. First though, I had time to have a short dart up the ravine towards Kinder Downfall, which I’d not visited before. As you progress upwards, you feel increasingly hemmed-in by the spectacular rocky amphitheatre – an awesome and overpowering place. Amazing to think Manchester city centre is only 20 miles away! I got to a point where three difficult Grade 3 scrambles prong out in front of you like a fork. To the left Square Chimney, straight ahead the Downfall itself, to the right Arpeggio Gully. All three looked terrifying and there was no chance I was going to progress further on my own – you need to be experienced, well-equipped and in company to give these a crack.

I was happy to head back down the ravine and instead ascend by one of my favourite Grade 1 scrambles from last year, Red Brook. In late summer it’s quite difficult to access the stream bed due to bracken; no such problems yesterday, plus from halfway up it was dry as a bone. Often I’m happy to take plenty of time over scrambles and savour them, but given good conditions I occasionally do a “speed-scramble”, mimicking a fell race. Well, 13:36 yesterday, third on the Strava segment, maybe I can improve on that later in the summer.

Red Brook

Once on top the wind kicked in big time. Great views on the jog around the Downfall but I made sure I didn’t get too close to the edge. Once at Sandy Heys I was literally leaning into the wind. I thought this might give me a jet-propelled advantage on the fast descent off here. In fact, I was buffeted from all directions so it turned out the slowest of my 3 efforts on the segment so far. Still, dropping almost 1000 feet in a mile is a pretty lively way of spending 6 minutes. There’s much more fun to be had on Sandy Heys than facing men with sticks. At the bottom I rejoined the outward route and retraced my steps back to the car.

Unlike the leaders of the Trespass, when I got back to Hayfield I didn’t get dibbed into the cops, locked up for months and then sentenced to prison. It’s easy to take the way things are now – like our access to fells and moors – so much for granted. But we are where we are thanks to the actions and campaigning of folk in the past, and I was glad to have made a simple acknowledgement of the Trespassers of 1932. Why not take a walk or run on Kinder sometime this April?

https://www.strava.com/activities/6964473186
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Hoofstones Fell Race

Another fell race, another write-up. Why don’t I think of something else to blog about? Perhaps it’s just a natural cycle with racing – you prepare, you race, you reflect – and particularly so in winter when conditions are so much tougher. Write-ups can be pretty therapeutic, and help you learn & move on to the next big idea…

This race – Hoofstones – usually takes place in mid-January and is a low-key event with a field of under 100. Low-key it may be but straightforward it is not. It’s the combination of a number of things – distance, climb, navigation, underfoot conditions, plus dealing with the January weather – that makes it appealing.

The race starts in the valley bottom just outside Todmorden and follows a lollipop-shaped route via the lonely summit of Hoof Stones Height (479m). This year’s race took place on the pleasingly-palindromic 22nd of January, 22.1.22.

This was 3 years since my one previous go at the race, 2019, and how that went was part of the reason I entered this year. In those pre-COVID times I was racing a lot and just thought here’s another local race to try. I remember being a bit tentative as the weather had been wintry in the lead-up…. but no matter I’ll rely on the classic fellrunning technique of following everyone else and trusting I’ll get round. Turned out to be something of a harsh lesson, as once on the tops we disappeared into full white-out conditions – snow on the ground and thick mist – and the only thing on my mind was sod this race, just get off this hill asap & back to safety. Others thought the same, so a gaggle of us headed straight down towards the road (which is out of bounds), then followed walls and fences through some pretty dire bogs until bumping into runners heading the other way – retracing their footsteps eventually led us to the final checkpoint and finish. Not very clever really – surely there’s a better, and much quicker, way round?

I wasn’t going to leave anything to chance this time, so for Jan 2022 I decided to recce the course beforehand. Plus conditions seemed OK so it would just be nice to see what it all looked like up there – I’d only ever seen white the previous time. So 11 Jan drove out to Tod and parked by the Staff of Life pub, where the race starts. Jogged up the course route, recognising little landmarks and the increasingly heavy underfoot conditions, until eventually reaching the trig pillar at Hoofstones. The view I’d missed out on last time turned out to be pretty bleak and wild, with not many obvious features. Time for some compass-navigation – took a bearing and headed off across the featureless moor directly towards the next checkpoint, a mile distant. Route finding was OK but underfoot things pretty atrocious. All heavy bogs and tussocks, not very runnable at all. Feet very cold by now so, once through the bogs, headed back down to the car to chew things over.

Back home, decided I’d need to go back out there again and try a Plan B. So a week later, 17 Jan, parked by the road halfway up and started sketching out an alternative line. This roughly followed the descent route I’d taken in 2019, but this time I found some trods which seemed to knock off a few minutes. It was more runnable as well than the slip-fest through the bogs. Overall, it felt like doing a second recce had been well worthwhile.

Race day, Sat 22 Jan. It’s been a dry week and it’s not too cold in the valley. Still, I reckon it will be Arctic on top, so get the full winter gear on. More local runners in just vest & shorts look at me with some disdain – fair enough. Once underway I get into a rhythm on the initially decent tracks and am in about 10th place 2 miles in. I find it much tougher going on the heavy ground up to the trig; still, am in about 15th at the top with a group of 3 or 4 just ahead. Would normally back myself to pick up a few places on the descent, so start wondering about a top 10 finish…… Shortly after, I see the main line of runners heading directly across the moor, where the bogs and tussocks await, while I stick to my longer, but hopefully quicker alternative.

About 15 minutes later I reconnect with the main field, hoping to recognise a few of the vests that overtook me earlier. Nope, it’s an entirely different bunch altogether. Now back on the quick descent I comfortably overtake a few and arrive at the finish to find it’s well populated by a fair crowd of tired but elated runners. Overall, I’ve enjoyed the race, keeping warm and on the move the whole time. On the watch I’ve finished 10 minutes quicker than in 2019, so some obvious improvement there. But I ask the finishing marshall where I’ve come and the answer is 32nd. Somehow in that crucial mile I lost about 20 places. Had the bogs miraculously dried out in less than a week? Is there a quicker line that I fractionally missed on my recce? Did the clear conditons and line of runners, removing the need to navigate, save so much time? Or does Hoofstones just attract the kind of runner that is particularly adept at getting across bogs, a lot better than me?

Always a few minutes or seconds to be gained, here and there, from accumulated experience in races and recces. I guess that’s why fellrunners keep going back to the same races, year after year. Many thanks to everyone involved in organising this one, and the spectators and photographers that braved the cold out on the course.