Spine photos

Spine kit - What worked for me and what didn’t

Kit and its importance is a big issue in the build-up to this race. There are many variables – will you get rain, wind, snow or all of them at some point in the race? Will you wear pretty much the same stuff throughout or will you need to change kit several times a day?

Not having run the race previously I felt at times overwhelmed by the preparation and found the need to try to cover all bases and bring spares/alternatives for every eventuality. I also found that this is simply not practicably possible with a 20kg drop bag.

20kg is more than an adequate size and weight and I found, as the event neared just how much I would have to leave out, that I would otherwise have wanted to take.

That I was restricted however to a 20kg bag was however a big help when returning home and lugging that bag and my race sack across York station and every inch in between any further,  then I might have finished the race but I might not have made it home!

Clothing

On top I started off with a base layer/long sleeved top with my OMM Kamleika over that. It was damp but mild and that was more than adequate. When it got colder I used a Rab Baltoro soft shell jacket under the OMM jacket and in the Cheviots I wore a micro fleece under the Rab. It was about -10 to -15 but I never got cold until about 5miles from the end. I also carried a Helly Hansen lightweight down jacket which I put on briefly whilst at Hut 2. I also had in my kit bag a spare thinsulate alternative in case of damp/wet weather when  a down jacket might not have been appropriate.  I didn’t get wet and I only needed to change clothing very occasionally. The Kamleika jacket was fine. I had a more robust Mountain Equipment waterproof jacket in my spare kit should I need it, but I never did.

The Rab Baltoro jacket was an ebay bargain. It came from Finland for about £25 and was warm/dry thoughout.

On my neck I wore a buff and on my head a Sealskinz skull cap. With the hood of my Rab and OMM jackets that was more than enough and I never needed the windstopper balaclava in my rucksack. I often needed nothing on my head at all but could easily vary headwear depending on the warmth required between 0-3 layers this way.

On the bottom I wore compression shorts with winter weight lycra leggings over them. Right from the start I wore my Kimmlite trousers over the top. It was wet when we started and after that I never saw the need to take them off. Of all the kit I took the best bit of kit with me were these overtrousers. I hate walking in overtrousers but these were just brilliant. An ebay bargain many years ago Kimmlite are the ancestors of OMM Kamleika. I bought them off a guy who wanted the new OMM logo on his legs rather than the obsolescent Kimmlite one … his loss/it didn’t bother me. They kept my legs warm/dry/mud free and are light/stretchy (and as such fit quite tightly). More importantly they don’t rustle. They do now have a couple of barbed wire wounds but that’s all. I’d recommend them to anyone who hates overtrousers.

I also wore my sons long DofE gaiters. I’ve seen Dans comments about people wearing these outside their overtrousers and normally I’d agree. The main reason however why I was wearing them was to keep my lower leg as mud/ice free as possible rather than dry so when I took my boots off I was essentially clean. So I wore them over the top. I’d tucked my lycra bottoms into knee length Sealskinz and with the overtrousers over the top didn’t mind if water ran down my leg underneath my gaiters, confident that my leg would stay dry. I used an inov8 rubber O ring from my shorter debris gaiters to keep the gaiters down over my Hokas and 1 pair of the rubber rings lasted all the way to Middleton (150miles) unbroken.  On swapping over to my Salomon boots the O ring lasted about 5 minutes, spare cut down laces lasting a little longer at about ½hr, so I gave up.  As a result I had to put up with them riding up occasionally and some mud/snow getting underneath. I did have icing up/balling issues with them but so did most other people too. Overall they were pretty effective.

I had far too much spare clothing but on a wetter year I might have needed it.

 

Gloves

In the lead up to this event one of my main worries was how my hands might cope. I suffer with Raynauds and know from experience that in winter conditions I struggle with dexterity. I often won’t get my hands out to check compass/map often enough to be sure of where I am, which is not good. I knew I needed to strike a balance between dexterity and warmth and as such had a lot of alternatives with me. I had lots of spare gloves and at least 3x mitt combos.

In the end it wasn’t a real issue, for which I was both surprised and grateful and I never had cold hands. I started off with a lightweight cotton glove under black Marigolds (to keep the water off). Overnight I used a Hothands sachet inside the glove and this worked well. I had the dexterity to use my GPS/compass/map and even when wet my hands were warm. The Marigolds lasted surprisingly well too. They kept most of the water out and all of the wind off. They did succumb to barbed wire rips eventually but not for several days.  I used a thicker windstopper fleece glove once the marigolds died and they stayed warm even when wet with the help of the Hothands (I’d got a Costco bargain with these. I got a 40pair box for about £7.00 and used about a dozen pairs over the week so I now have enough left over for me and my daughter for the next 10years).

I only used mitts once, when up in the Cheviots. I used a basic fleece mitt under my old Belstaff motorcycle overmitts. These were great but I did wear the palm out on one of them pulling myself along the fenceline.

 

Rucksack

I’d tried to fit all my kit into a 25l OMM sack and though I did manage to fit it in, it was all so tightly packed I’d never have got anything out easily had I wanted it. A Vango DofE sack at 50l was far too big and too heavy even when empty so I bought a 32l Lowe Alpine Airfit sack from the Rabshop as a ‘second’. It had seemed ok when trying to get used to running with it in advance of the race but I only ever tried it over shortish distances. It was good at holding all the kit and access was easy but it was so bloody uncomfortable I was wishing I’d used the old but basic Karrimor 30l sack I’d used on the MdS years many years previously.

To be honest it may have been my fault and I may not have managed to sort out the fit properly, but if that was the case it was far too complicated a structure for me. As it was after only a day or so it felt like I was wearing a steel bar across my shoulder blades and I was permanently trying to relieve the pressure by lifting it up and/or off my shoulders.

I was also disappointed with the weight of my kit which at about 9kg without water was far too heavy and maybe that had a lot to do with the shoulder issues I had … maybe I should have persisted with the 25l sack since at least that would have restricted what I could fit in. I did have to strike a balance though between ultralight kit and useable kit. Where I met this issue I usually erred on the side of caution and took the practical over the light hence, I guess, the weight.

I also wore an OMM chestpouch. I was going to say map pouch but it is weirdly sized for maps. I couldn’t work out the sealing system either so added some more Velcro of my own to improve the seal. I folded up the Harveys map into it but rarely used it for navigating preferring the 1:25,000 OS A-Z map (which wouldn’t fit in) in a simple ziplock bag. Where the chestpouch was very useful though was in storing everything else but the kitchen sink I would need on a regular basis.

I know the importance of having useful stuff to hand. If it’s not to hand you don’t use it which in the case of food etc can be critical so in it I had food/spare batteries/compass/e-lite/gloves/headtorch(in the day)/phone/portable phone charger etc. I attached it via lightweight karabiners to my shoulder straps that were easier to operate with gloved hands than the usual clips and overall it vied for the ‘best piece of kit’ award.

 

Stove

This was another of the areas where I was unsure what to take and deliberated long and hard. I had seen some microstoves and knew they were much lighter than the Jetboil systems. I’d also had enough experience with them over the years to know that it wasn’t the sort of environment in which I wanted to be faffing round with meths and a Trangia. In the end I bought both a Jetboil and Primus ETA  (both off ebay again) so see which I liked best. Both had issues. Neither were particularly light but I liked their self-contained nature. The Jetboil had a tendency when being carried to turn itself on (the wire on/off switch seemed to keep catching) and as such I had to carry it with the canister separately – not very convenient) whereas the Primus was slightly smaller but had a more fiddly connection between pan and stove. The connectors were plastic covered and these melted/distorted slightly in heat (Hmmmm  - a stove getting hot, who would have thought it?). Still, both had effective ignitors and in the end I took the Primus since I could keep it connected and therefore crack  it open much more speedily. In the event I didn’t use it more than a couple of times but when I did it was effective and quick at heating up my boil in the bag meals, which is what I wanted it for.

 

Food

Not much science here. I used a combination of chocolate, 9 bars and chia bars in my chest pouch and I had extra supplies including several boil in the bag meals in the top pouch of my rucksack. Where possible I did stop for real food but I felt a little reluctant to go into a pub for a meal on my own. As it was I stocked up at Gargrave co-op, Horton café (chili for breakfast) and ate as much as I was allowed at CPs. The Wayfarer meals boil in the bag meals I took with me to use with the Primus were excellent. The beans and sausages I had at Dufton village hall were the best I can recall tasting and the chili at Greenhead/Chicken Tikka meals at Hut 1 not far behind.

 

Drinking systems

Another condundrum. You need to have a 2l water carrying facility and I knew that a bladder was not going to easily fit inside my rucksack. I’d also heard tales of bladders or at least the hose, freezing up entirely. I knew I needed something that would be quick and easy to fill or in the end I would look for the easy option and not bother. A bladder stored in my rucksack would be a pain to refill. I had rigged up a system so I could hang it round my neck and inside my jacket to keep it out of the elements but in the end I never used it that way.

Ultimately I opted to carry a bladder (empty) in the top of my rucksack for emergency use and rely on a 500ml bottle carried on my chest … but it was to be no ordinary 500ml bottle. What I did was rig a Sawyer filter inline into the drinking tube inside the wide screwcap orifice of the bottle, so it was effectively invisible and came away with the cap when unscrewed. This way I’d be able to fill up anywhere – and there was no shortage of water on this event, and drink through the filter. This simple device vies with my overtrousers for the ‘best piece of kit’ award. In practice I was able to fill up quickly with bogwater and drink it safe in the knowledge that I wouldn’t get stomach problems within a day or so.  Ultimately and on the section before Hadrians wall I lost it in a tumble in the darkness when it fell out of my holder and I didn’t notice but by then it’d already been a godsend. I had probably wrecked its filtering ability over Cross Fell to be honest when it froze up (and you are supposed to discard the filter if it freezes) so it does prevent me from risking stomach issues on another occasion but I was most impressed (smug even) with my own compact/useful design … Perhaps I could market it.

 

Head torch

I was originally intending to use my trusty Petzl Tikka XP. Its old but very good on batteries and is light and effective.  In the lead up to this event however I found a bargain Petzl Tikka RXP. The reactive light is a bit of a gimmick but once the rechargeable pack had gone flat I swapped it for the AAA pack you can fit. You lose the reactive element when you fit this pack but I didn’t mourn its loss. The RXP used (lithium) batteries faster than the old XP but the spot beam and flood were very useful especially when on my own when searching for stiles etc along fence lines and where for example paths etc had disappeared in the snow and I had been walking on a bearing. The XP wouldn’t have given me this sort of beam and overall I was impressed by it. I know lots use the Myo XP/RXP but I don’t get on with the separate battery pack on the back of my head. I prefer the unit to be self-contained and was prepared to put up with using more batteries than the XP might otherwise have used. I also carried an emergency e-lite so I could change batteries in the dark/in case I damaged my headtorch. Small and very light it too was invaluable.

 

Spikes

I carried a pair of Yaktrax with me throughout but never used them. I know they tend to quickly wear out so wanted to save them. In my kit bag I had a pair of much more aggressive spikes  for worse weather or if I wore out/lost my Yaktrax. I’ve used Yaktrax before and I find them easier to get along with than proper spikes. I might have fallen over less if I’d have worn them I guess but my main slipping issues were in mud/slush rather than on ice. Later on in the Cheviots my issues on snow were related to breaking through the crust and sinking in rather than it being icy – I wish it had been icier! I nearly used them on Pen-y-Ghent but in the end didn’t need to. They weighed very little and tucked into a rucksack pocket I barely noticed them but it was a comfort knowing I had them with me.

 

Feet (incl socks)

The importance of having comfortable and healthy feet on this event cannot be overstated. It took me a long time (many years ago now) to get to know what works for me feetwise and I saw no real need to depart from my tried and tested routine here. Indeed to do so at the last minute could have jeopardised the whole thing. I do recall on the Thames Ring a few years ago that it was so hot at the start that I made a very last minute decision to ditch the Sealskinz. That proved nearly fatal since grit in my socks (that the Sealskinz would have prevented) caused hotspots on the balls of my fee that after a day or so deteriorated into blisters and nearly wrecked my race entirely. Even though the Sealskinz went back on at the 1^st CP the damage of irritating my feet had already been done.

So … I vaselined my feet put on a pair of Injinji toe sock liners and a pair of knee length army issue Sealskinz over the top. Sorted … and for a long time too. The Sealskinz help prevent the Vaseline from evaporating and the Vaseline counteracts the dampness that you can get from wearing Sealskinz. The Injinji also counteract the harsh weave of the Sealskinz that can otherwise cause blisters in tender feet in their own right.

Sealskinz are bit like Hokas and Marmite – people love or hate them … but I love them. You do have to wear liners with them and it’s true they don’t last as long as they used to but I alternated between 2 pairs of knee length Sealskinz throughout and if they’d only lasted the race that would have been more than good enough for me.  As it was I might have got wet feet on one occasion (when I went into a bog over knee deep) but it was hard to tell. Other than that I had dry feet, only changing liners and reapplying Vaseline at major CP’s. In any event they kept my feet warm and just as importantly clean and also kept the Vaseline where it was meant to be.

I do think that people need to persist with Sealskinz  if they want to do runs like this. If I had not already come to expect so much of them I would possibly put them up for the greatest piece of kit I took with me but I do expect them to perform and they didn’t let me down. The extra length of these particular Sealsinz was extremely useful too and only the deepest bogs risked water coming in over the top. Your feet often feel wet in Sealskinz when walking in water when in fact they are not and even if they do leak they still keep your feet warm and clean/grit/mud free, which in itself helps minimise blisters. I was amazed at how much silt had accumulated on the top of my Sealskinz whenever I took my shoe off but none of it ever got any nearer to my feet than that. I got small blisters on my little toes (which I always do) but no others. I did get some pain/soreness on the outside of my feet caused by my boots being a bit too small to accommodate the swelling but otherwise my feet ended up being perfect. Two weeks after the event I still have a numb L big toe though.

 

GPS

Using a GPS system was something I had to learn about in the lead up to this event. A GPS is compulsory (mainly so you can supply organisers with accurate grid references in an emergency) but I haven’t had much need to use one previously. I guess, being old school … or just plain old, I’ve never really seen the need to use one before since I’m comfortable with a map/compass.

So, I had to learn about them pretty much from scratch. Again ebay came to my help and I bought a second hand Garmin 62s and also a Garmin etrex 30. The 62s had OSM mapping but the draw of the etrex was that it was both cheap and came with a 1:50,000 OS map card.

The etrex 30 was small and light and I guess in normal circumstances would be ideal for runners since it could be easily slipped into a pocket.

In the end however I used the 62s which was rugged and its buttons easier to use with gloved hands than the joystick of the etrex 30. It survived several drops and was quick to clip on/off my chest strap. It found satellites quickly and on lithium batteries I would get about 30hrs out of 2 AA batteries, which I considered excellent. My only prior exposure to a GPS was with a Satmap10 which has a great screen but I would get only 2-3hrs out of 3x AA batteries. As a result the Satmap didn’t last long before getting resold. I was mightily impressed therefore with the 62s. When using it I swapped mapcards over and used it with the OS 1:50,000 card which was more than good enough.

 

Watch/Phone

My phone is a small cheap PAYG Nokia and that’s all I’ve ever needed. It has a brilliant battery life and I carried a small Duracell portable charger with me and a larger portable charger in my drop bag (with which could recharge the smaller charger) my daughter bought me a plastic bag/cover for my phone and when in it I could just about operate the keys for reading/making text messages, without taking it out.

My watch was a Suunto Ambit 2 R. the R has a lower battery life than the std Ambit 2, but it’s still pretty good when in Ultra mode. Had I needed to use the navigation on it (I had Pennine Way GPX files stored on it for emergencies) then the battery would quickly have been used up but the navigation on it is very basic anyway and in no way comparable to a standard GPS. As it was I was able to recharge the watch from my portable charger on the go and without losing data … most of the time. On a couple of occasions whilst in my chestpouch charging it, it did stop but that might have been due to inadvertently pressing buttons whilst it was in there. To be honest I lost interest in using it for distances/GPS quite quickly and only ever used it as a real time watch anyway. Pace was effectively irrelevant – ‘just keep going’ being the main/only priority and I didn’t need a watch for that.

 

Map/compass

I took both the Harveys map and the A-Z maps with me. I bought both partly because I love maps and looking at them. I know people rave about the Harveys maps and it is useful that they are water resistant but having been brought up on OS maps I now find it hard to get used to the Harveys map. The A-Z map is in two small and useful booklets (though they won’t easily fit in the OMM chestpouch map bit) and it’s also in the very useful OS 1:25,000 format.  I found it much more user friendly and though I had a big industrial mapcase for it if necessary, a smaller/lighter A4 ziplock bag proved more than adequate to keep it dry. When not in use I was able to fold the map booklet shut and tuck it in the slot behind my chestpouch. Sorted.

My compass was a standard Silva of a type I’ve used since I was born. It points North – which is the only thing a compass needs to do and I know how to take a bearing with it.  Whilst I would have my GPS in my L hand showing me the map I would invariably have my compass in my R hand at the same time. If the map showed my general route of travel as NE I would set my compass to NE and follow that as a vague bearing to avoid becoming disorientated.

 

Sleeping bag/mat

Sleeping bags are expensive and one of the draws with this race is that I thought I had a lot of the necessary kit already. I have owned a Mountain Equipment Snowline bag since I was about 18 and I originally thought that would do. When new it was supposed to have a -10 comfort rating. I guess this has declined a bit over the years but it was still a warm/useful (if old) bag and though I kept looking at smaller/lighter bags to reduce pack size and weight I kept coming back to … why bother? In the end I stuck with me old mate and saved myself a fair bit at the expense of half filling my bag from the word go. It was more than adequate and I wasn’t too bothered about keeping it clean. When using it I would get into a bin liner (boots and all) and then into my bag. Since my feet were never wet this was quite comfortable.

As for a mat I was very tempted to use my trusty cut down karrimat too. This however is only ¾ length and whilst fine in an emergency I could see the remaining ¼ leaching out all heat if I needed to use it on the hill. I also thought I might want a bit more comfort at CP’s. I looked (ebay again) long and hard for a cheaper lightweight Thermarest but never found one cheap enough (too tight I guess) and in the end compromised with a slightly heavier and larger Vango copy. It was fine and comfortable but if I did it again I might risk the Karrimat next time or shell out for a lighter and smaller Thermarest. The main advantage of the mat I did take over the Karrimat though was that it fitted in my rucksack whereas the Karrimat would have had to be strapped to the outside and I saw a couple of these that had presumably been similarly mounted floating over the hillsides. I carried one that I found for several miles until I was able to hand it in to the Mountain Rescue just after the M62 crossing.

 

Tent/bivvy

I had 2 of these. I had my heavy duty orange plastic bivvy sack which I use as emergency kit on the likes of the 4 Inns and a Snugpak bivvy (you guessed it – ebay). I carried the plastic bivvy till Hebden Bridge and then swapped it for the Snugpak. I never needed to use it in the end since I was able to link all of my stops with CPs, unofficial or otherwise but I would have been confident using it in the weather we had if I needed to. It’s likely to be back on ebay again shortly with some of my other kit since I can’t see me getting much more use out of it in the future.

 

Shoes

I’ve left this till last since I was majorly disappointed with the performance of my shoes. I’ve used Hokas for years now on road, trail and fell from 5k to 145miles and I’m their biggest fan. After I seriously wrecked my back in 2013 the cushioning protected my spine from additional hammer and allowed me to run again. My knees are better for them too. I know there are many detractors and I know they are a marmite shoe but to be honest I don’t care what other people think – why should I? They work for me and that’s an end of it. 

Well, nearly anyway. Hokas have always had a rubbish grip off-road in the wet.  I had my old Mafates retreaded with proper studs and they are now great but were probably a bit small for this race and the sock combo I wanted to wear. More recently Hoka have been using vibram soles on the Rapa Nui 2S and the Speedgoat. I have used the 2S over Kinder many times and they have been a lot better. As a result I decided to buy a pair a size bigger than normal to accommodate my feet swelling and to wear an extra pair of socks over the top over the Injinji/Sealskinz that could easily be discarded once I started to feel my feet swell.

Things started off fine and I never fell at all over Kinder or Bleaklow. But then it started to rain and from Black Hill onwards I had real trouble staying on my feet. The Hokas were comfortable and worked well with my gaiters but I just could not stay upright in them. On wet grass, mud and especially slush they were appalling. How I managed to avoid an injury from falling I do not know but by Middleton I’d had enough of them and swapped them for a pair of Goretex Salomon walking boots since I’d suspected that in the latter stages I’d be doing plenty of walking. Though grip was by no means perfect the Salomons worked better than the Hokas over the terrain, though as indicated elsewhere, they ate up gaiter straps.  They were however narrower than my Hokas and I did suffer in the latter stages with some discomfort to the outside of my foot , probably swelling related , though nothing major. By the end my feet were pretty much blister free but it did take the best part of a week for the swelling to go down and two and a half weeks on I still have a numb L big toe – the R one is now pretty much back to normal.

 

Aftermath.

Having had to set up some form of webpage to post my 2016 Spine account I settled on trying to create a blog – and this is the result.

I suspect my brain may still be a little fried from the Spine since I found it harder to do than I probably ought to have done. I’m still not sure it’s working ok since some times the blog shows photos and sometimes it doesn’t. The links I have posted sometimes work and sometimes don’t. Some people can use the links I’ve posted to FB and some can’t. I have no idea why.

Anyway, having set it up it remains to be seen whether I make any further use of it. I may record a few things on it from time to time, mainly for my own personal record but if any of it is of use to others, then that will be a bonus.

It’s now a little over 2weeks since I finished the Spine and I’m still recovering from the aftermath.

Physically I’m not too bad. I didn’t really get any blisters (just a couple on my little toes, which I always get, because they tend to tuck in under my foot) and the feeling has come back in my R big toe. I can now get normal shoes on since my feet have come back down to their usual size, I have some pain to the outside of my feet where they swelled up into my boots and I still have a weirdly numb L big toe which extends into the ball of my foot. I guess this is nerve damage from constantly moving, I just hope it’s not permanent.

I’ve even done a little running. I’ve managed a couple of light 4 mile or so runs but I had no energy and I struggled to keep up with Louise. It hurt my L knee too, which the physio treating me for my back issue leading up to the race said is my ITB. Apparently it was very tight and she had trouble releasing it, but it seems much better now.

I’ve been back out on the hill as well. I did about 10miles or so 4 Inns training with the Explorer Scouts at the weekend on the Goyt-Cat and Fiddle-Buxton section. I thought I might be bored with it all and it might be just too much effort but once back out there it all came back to me, including the little things you forget and miss recording in a blog or race account, like the sound of crows fighting overhead, the bite of the wind, how constant and how massive the sky is, how many variations of grey and green there are, how constantly your nose drips … and I realised what I had been missing in the last two weeks.

Allthough it is hard mentally, in a way Spine life is easier than ‘real’ life. There is only you, and you only have to think about keeping you going. In a way it’s a temporary release from normal living and as such it’s not easy to get back to normality.

Mentally, I was a wraith for the 1^st week. I kept falling asleep, but could only sleep for a couple of hours at a time at night and I woke up either freezing cold or sweating. The simplest task seemed like too much bother and concentrating on work was hard too. Last week was better but Louise says I am still below par mentally and not really there. I probably am still somewhere else most of the time, locked into my head. You do need the ability to be comfortable in your own company on this sort of race but after so much time, reverting back to sociality isn’t easy and that seems to affecting me much more and for much longer than the physical effect.

Since being back I’ve eaten for England too. I only lost 2lb on the race itself but in the week afterward I lost another 5lb despite the amount of food I ate. I guess most of that weight will now be back on and at some point I will have to get back to normal eating or end up a whale again … just not quite yet please.

 

The Grey

If anyone could devise a race more suitable for my abilities, I’ve yet to find it. This race rewards dogged determination and persistence over speed and at 57, that’s what I am good at these days. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t find it easy – not at all, and in fact it was by far and away the longest, hardest race I have ever finished, it’s just that its very nature played to my remaining strengths.

A friend suggested that the race seemed to have similarities with the film ‘The Revenant’. Now I haven’t seen that film but I have seen ‘The Grey’ and the nature of the route, the snow, the fact that runners were being picked off along the way one by one and the feeling that very soon you would be facing your own wolf was hard to ignore.

It’s a bloody long way too. 268miles along the Pennine Way from Edale to Kirk Yetholm in Scotland in January when you can expect everything but the kitchen sink thrown at you, time after time.

But my journey didn’t start in Edale this January. I was going to say it began a couple of years ago when I heard about the race and my interest was piqued, or at least on my birthday 6months prior to the race when I actually entered it.  I’m not sure that’s the case though and in fact my journey to this race probably began a good 40years ago, when I was 17 and I last did the Pennine Way. Since that time I have loved the fells and the moors, loved being out there in the elements and built up the experience of navigating and coping. I haven’t been able to get out there as much as I’d have liked in recent years but the love of the hills has never faded and this seemed like a good opportunity to get reacquainted and in order to get a finish I would need to call upon all those skill and experiences gained over the years.

Pavel Paloncey, who has won this race for the last 2years and was here again this year for his 3^rd attempt carries a piece of extraneous kit, a towel, strapped to his rucksack in homage to Douglas Adams ‘Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy’ - ‘don’t panic’ maxim. It’s a good philosophy to adopt for this race and in the build-up I had to keep that in mind on a regular basis.

One difficulty with this race is that there are just so many variables, some in and some out of your control. The weather, the terrain, your kit, your navigation, your hydration, your feeding etc  all have to be kept in line. Obviously in practice this never happens so when something does start to go awry, ‘don’t panic’ is a good start on the way to finding a solution.  I did get most things right on this run, despite the chances of things going belly up on a regular basis, but on another occasion the variables would all be different and the result therefore an unknown. It must therefore be one of the draws to this race that you just can’t compare it year on year. You just have to take what you are given on the day and get on with it as best you can, your ability to do that being likely to be the best measure of achieving success.

Leading up to the race nervousness saw me thinking regularly about kit and its lightness/suitability. It’s easy to throw money at this race but a balance has to be drawn between lightness of kit and its expense, bearing in mind that you are likely to actually need to use what you carry. I erred therefore on the side of caution and one of my disappointments was that at the start, my kit at about 9kg without water, was quite a bit heavier than I would have liked it to have been and I thought that my pack, compared to others was oversize. I had tried to get it all into a 25L OMM sack but although I could jam it all in, I’d never have got anything out easily. As such I used a 32L Airfit Lowe Alpine sack bought in a sale from the Rab shop … we weren’t to become lasting friends. I also used an OMM chest pouch which was a godsend. Since it’s so awkward to take off your pack sometimes, to have your map, compass, GPS, food, drink, money etc stowed usefully under your nose is vital. If you can’t access equipment easily there is a tendency not to bother, which could be fatal. It’s for that reason I don’t like using poles. If they are in your hands all the time its more awkward to use your GPS/get drink & food out and since I got dehydrated on the UTMB for that very reason I have been nervous about using them.

But eventually, I got to Edale. To say I was ready would be an overstatement and right up to the whistle I was faffing with kit, still trying to decide what to to take/use/wear etc. It did however put the enormity of the task ahead into the background. The start itself was major low key. Racers had to be persuaded over to the start with only a minute or so to go and when the gun did go most just sort of ambled off. I was at the back but there were a couple more determined than me to start off last, so I got on with it and just power marched up the road to the Nags Head, the official start of the Pennine Way.

Jacobs Ladder – courtesy of Racing Snakes

 

Section 1 - Kinder/Bleaklow/Black Hill

Even though the race happened less than 7 days ago I am finding difficult already to remember much about it in any real detail. 268miles and 7 days is a bloody long time and I find that one of the ultra-runners most useful tools is that of a poor memory. The ‘never again’ moments that constantly fill up your days just seem to melt away and once you have forgotten the pain and endless trudging you enter your next race, it’s a vicious circle. You do just have to throw things out of your head or bury them somewhere and stop thinking about the enormity of the task ahead or you just won’t get to the finish. If you are struggling after only 50miles, your back, knees and hips are cursing you , then to think that there are 200miles more of this ahead is the direct line to a DNF and if nothing else this race is attritional, things just build up gradually until you either learn to cope or drop out.

 

I know the 1^st bit of the Pennine Way quite well. Being a Derbyshire lad this is my playground and as such Jacobs Ladder, the Downfall (flowing down, not up this year) and Bleaklow in particular are great friends and were pleased to see me. The weather was mild, with little wind and the bogs kind. Jacobs Ladder was the first to remind me however that my pack was heavy but over the top this was forgotten, pleased to just be out there. I also took more photos of this part of the route than did on the rest put together, I even did some light jogging along the slabbed sections of path.

     Bleaklow

Bleaklow was equally enjoyable, though the slog up onto Black Hill plateau was another pack weight reminder and my knees, back and hips were already complaining. Not for the first time already I was worried about how my back would cope with a week of this stuff … ‘don’t panic’.

 

Slip sliding over Bleaklow and Kinder, I had just been congratulating myself on not falling over so far when a sudden pirouette dumped me ignominiously on the ground.  Were I at that point to have realised that this would happen so many hundreds of times in the future I wonder now whether I would have finished at all. It was however to be one of the major tones of the next week, falling over.  Later on I even took a starring role in demonstrating it on one of the daily videos. When being interviewed and being asked what I was finding the hardest I responded ‘standing up’ and then promptly and on cue, fell over.

 

It got dark as I got to the plateau. It also started to rain. One major issue with this race is the interminable darkness. I find it hard enough on runs like GUCR to stay awake on a run through a mild 5hr night in May with a consequent effect on performance but here 2/3 of the race would be run in darkness, 16hours at a time = don’t panic!

 

And here is where things start to get dim. I can remember the 1^st bit well, but as it got dark so were things thrown into the cupboard and although I have vague recollections of slipping and sliding around and losing the path to Stoodley Pike on several occasions that is about all I can recall. I can recall arriving at Stoodley Pike in the wind, recall the drop down to Charlestown and then the muddy, slippery ascent up to CP1, but that is about all, 15hours of very little recollection even just days after finishing. The descent to Hebden Bridge CP at 45miles was muddy and slippery, I fell over a couple of times and it started to snow, I do remember that.

 

Section 2 – to Hawes - the long bit

Sleep management was one of my major worries leading up the start of this race. We all have demons to overcome in Ultras and mine are generally sleepmonsters. I often just can’t stay awake and end up nodding off/sleepwalking as I’m trying to make onward progress so I wasn’t sure how I’d cope or what my best strategy should be. Hebden Bridge CP (shared with the Challenger racers who had set out 3hrs earlier) has bunkrooms where racers can try to get a bit of shuteye but I had the problem of trying to decide whether after only 15hrs or so I needed any sleep yet. The next section to Hawes (at 110miles total distance) was a long one at 65miles, and if I didn’t try to sleep a bit now then I’d really be suffering by Hawes. I lay down on one of the bunks for a half hour or so. I may have got 20minutes but the place was so busy I decided nothing was going to happen and got back up to get back out on the hill.

 

Starting off again from any CP, whether an official one with the comfort of food, showers and beds or just one of the minor ones which might have been only an empty village hall, was a big deal throughout. Getting boots/socks onto sore/wet feet and rucksack back on to aching shoulders and out into the elements again must have been a task too much for some after a while and I am sure accounts for many DNFs. But you have to be strong since like going for any run, once out the door it’s much easier.

 

I don’t now remember much of the next bit either apart from the fact that when it got light the route took me across field after muddy/slippery field with occasional errors trying to find stiles. This was a low point for me. The route was muddy and wet and I kept falling over. I have run in Hokas for years now and have found them an incredible help for my back. They have allowed me to return to running and Ultras after a big back operation in 2013 and have allowed me to enter races like this. I’m their biggest fan but Hokas have always had rubbish grip in mud and I don’t  consider there is now much excuse for this since it’s been going on for so long without any apparent improvement. On a pair of my old Mafates i’ve had the sole replaced with proper studs. My Rapa Nui 2s with a vibram sole, are supposed to be an improvement and to be fair they are a little better … but not much and they were starting off from a very low level of traction on prior models. For the Spine I’d decided to buy a pair of the same shoe but a size bigger than usual to take into account foot swelling. Until the foot swelling took place I wore a pair of normal socks over the top.

 

But the shoe, poor already in mud proved a liability in slushy snow and the main reason why I couldn’t stand up. Even now I am amazed that in the amount of falls I took I didn’t injure/damage something since some were pretty spectacular. On one particularly dramatic occasion I landed on my hip plumb between two nasty, pointy rocks – a narrow escape.  I guess I should have had them resoled straight out of the box but should you have to do that with a shoe that’s already expensive? Anyway, I dumped them when I got to Middleton and swapped for a pair of Salomon GTX walking boots for the 2^nd half. These were narrower and probably account in the main for the sores on the outside of my feet but at least I didn’t fall over quite so much.

 

Anyway, as darkness fell (again) I stopped at Gargrave Co-Op to refuel, with a 4 pack of pork pies, coke and Eccles cakes – a meal of champions. Refuelled and in a better mood I plodded on towards Malham.

 

Because of the fact that so much of this race takes place in darkness a lot of the route and its sights are invisible and this was the case with the impressive Malham Cove. I know what it looks like but didn’t see it today. The ascent to the Tarn was hard and long, the route through the rocks was awkward but without incident, though the route to the Tarn itself was more difficult and locating the bridge over the torrent not easy in the dark.

 

I stopped briefly at the Malham Tarn CP. I ate a ton of Kendal Mintcake (thanks guys) and got my head down on the table for 30mins. I fell immediately asleep and surprisingly refreshed after such a short period of sleep and apart from being a little disorientated when stepping out of the CP made good progress towards Pen-y-Ghent, one of the proper mountains on the route. I also recall an inspiring and interestingly snowy crossing of Fountains Fell on this section too.

 

Last year the winds had meant that racers missed summiting Pen-y-Ghent but there were no such issues this time. The stars were out and it was windless.   The ascent itself was awesome and exhilarating. A lot of the rocks over which you have to scramble to reach the summit were covered in sheet water ice and it made the whole thing seem incredibly special, if more than a little scary. I was on my own, immersed in this experience and that again made the whole thing seem one of the main reasons why I had signed up to this event.  Trogging down the long descent into Horton under massive skies and millions of stars to a plate of chili and rice/pint of tea at the café which was thoughtfully open for 24hours is a moment which will stay with me forever.

Pen-y-Ghent summit

 

It got light not long afterwards and I remember little else except passing names of caves and pots that I recall from my Uni days until I reached Hawes, apart that is from an amazing cloud inversion looking back at Pen-y-Ghent and a rare and elusive Brocken Spectre that proved very difficult to photograph. It was also at this point I started toing & froing with Dan and we made our way the rest of the way to Hawes together. One of the major requirements of this run is that over a period of several days you have to be fine with your own company since you spend long periods in your own head. That being said, after a couple of days you do tend to loosely pair up from time to time with those going pretty much at the same pace, for company and a break from the isolation. The pace varies though and as such the bonding is loose, but sometimes company is a relief.

 

After Horton - Courtesy of Racing Snakes

 

Section 3 to Middleton – the short bit

At just 35miles this is the shortest section between  CP’s.  This year the full Spine race had a separate CP at Hawes YHA where I was able to shower and sleep for an hour or so. I had arrived in daylight and was reluctant to waste any of it by sleeping but had no option really, other than sleeping out on the hill and reaching Middleton would mean I had done over half of the route.

 

By this section however my brain was well and truly fried. Everything I can recall seems blurred and I can’t put stuff into its proper order. I do recall ascents of Gt Shunner Fell and other tops, but only vaguely. I recall minefields of rocks and mud on the paths between Thwaite and Keld but little else. What stood out however was a box of flapjack sat on a stile filled by locals Emily and Abbey, donated to Spine racers.  Not only tasty and unexpected, this was very typical of the strength of local unofficial support throughout the race.

 

After that I made my way over to Tan Hill Inn, the highest in England but unfortunately not serving by the time I got there. Nonetheless Tom Jones managed to rustle me up a meal from pub leftovers of hot dogs chips and mushy peas … which was just as awesome as it sounds.  Fully refuelled I then set out over Sleightholme Moor, a place I had heard much about and been dreading as a mud road to hell. I guess however I must have got lost since it didn’t seem that bad to me. I was struggling to find any path in the dark and instead spent a lot of time wading through heather and bogs which were reminiscent of Frodos journey to Mordor, expecting at any minute to see a face looking up at me from one of the pools.

 

Section 4 – Middleton-Alston

Setting out along the Tees we were told of a landslip that meant a diversion. It was easy enough and along a pretty good (if uphill) isolated tarmac road too but the sleepmonsters were raising their heads and I recall walking 1^st off one side of the road and then the other with eyes closed/brain turned off.  Back on the route again the snow seemed deeper. I had been looking forward to the dramatic sight of High Cup Nick but since it was dark it remained invisible but certainly not out of mind. By this point visibility was low and the snow covering all signs of a path made navigation alongside an invisible 200’ drop, interesting to say the least. But I was pleased with my navigation along this bit, didn’t fall off the edge and reached Dufton, an empty village hall to rustle up the best boil in the bag beans and sausage i’ve ever tasted.  I had also received a text asking me to wait here to be grouped up for the Cross Fell section. The next racers, a group including Dan and Esteve (Stevie)  arrived in about half an hour but needed a break themselves so I got into a bin bag, boots on then into my sleeping bag, lay down on the floor and had another 30mins sleep.

 

  After Gregs Hut with Stevie and Dan

 

Cross Fell was another memorable section. The snow was deeper than it had been up at High Cup Nick and there I was with an Englishman, a Spaniard and a Norwegian (Dan, Stevie and Leif) trogging out the miles up and down over several snowy summits till at last we reached the top of Cross Fell, in daylight for a change.  Leif pressed on but Dan, Stevie and I stopped for a quick photos at the summit and then onward to Gregs Hut Noodle bar where we were treated to curried noodles and hot chocolate. Awesome.  After that it was a long easy descent down the track from Gregs hut and then a shortish last section to Alston CP itself, where I was able to refuel and this time take a sleep of a good hour and a half. Luxury.

 

Section 5 – Alston-Bellingham

Dan, Stevie and myself had arranged a time when we would be up and off from Alston. Luke joined the group and at first I thought I felt revived on leaving the CP but it was pretty soon clear to me that I just could not keep up with the others. I just could not stay awake. It made no sense for them to hold back for me, this after all being an individual competition, so I told them to head off without me and I’d hang on till dawn when I hoped for a mental revival. As a result of my death pace the next section up to Hadrians Wall seemed interminable and really did drag. Amidst the slipping over I made a couple of navigation mistakes managing to mill around in farmyards for what seemed ages before contriving an escape.  I also seemed regularly to come across wire fences across the route and then be searching for what seemed like hours for the stile over it. Of course it would have been my navigation that was out, and possibly not far but it showed the drawback of moving on your own, with no company to spread out and search for things like stiles which could be invisible just a few yards away.

Hadrians Wall

 

With daylight however came Greenhead and Hadrians Wall at last. As I reached the interim CP at Greenhead the others were just leaving. I was tempted to get straight out again with them for the company but in the end I decided that some food was more important so after a man-hug from Stevie we parted and I sat down for a quick boil in the bag chili and some more great food from Tom in the hut. With daylight and some food in me I felt much revived.

 

I had been looking forward to the next section over the wall and had been disappointed to find that initially a diversion would keep us away from the wall. In the end however the National Trust decided that the relatively low numbers of racers, their likely speed and the fact that they would be well spread out by this point was not going to have an adverse effect on the Wall and we were allowed to follow it. Whilst it was hard work and with some steep inclines I was like a kid taking photos of turrets and battlements and the scenery certainly livened up my day. The views over the surrounding snowy countryside were good too. Then, turning away from the wall northwards  I headed into forest scenery on the push towards Bellingham. It was heavy going in the forest with snow over muddy track and progress was slow. I was also thankful for a slice of Annas Malt Loaf as she and Zoe passed me. We had been toing and froing over the previous night but they had picked up the pace as darkness started to head our way once more and after an all too brief daylight route along the Wall. Not long afterwards the forest gave way to darkness proper and then on to rolling hills where isolated farms would, at the sight of a headtorch marching across their land, come out in force not to chasten but instead offering coffee, tea and handfuls of biscuits.

 

The temperature was dropping now too. A hand over hand ascent of the appropriately named Shitlington Crags saw me very soon descending down towards  Bellingham including several more slips and falls on water ice. The most spectacular fall however was reserved for the crossing of a 6’ wall stile and when reaching over for the support of a post on the descent found to my dismay that in fact the post was just leaning up against the wall. A freefall skydive ensued with me ending up lying on my back looking up at the stars … and the stile. This time the rucksack, which for days now had felt like I was wearing a steel bar across my shoulders, cushioned the fall and saved my bacon.

 

Section 6 – Bellingham-Kirk Yetholm

Bellingham CP was a welcome sight indeed and the last proper stop before the end. The complex included a sleeping area but before I succumbed to that I fed up on anything that there was on offer. For a couple of days I had been craving a cheese sandwich and I was even able to satisfy that desire, courtesy of the accommodating Richard Lendon.

 

I went back to the sleeping room, sorted out my kit and decided that I would try and get a couple of hours sleep. I tried in vain to text home but every attempt was met with a complete failure to be able to string two words together and every time I looked at those words they seemed to be spelt differently. I also had to forward two texts to Louises mobile, a task that was very nearly beyond me.  Nonetheless I gave it a go and as I tried to work out how to do it my phone kept asking me very politely if I wished to set up a rule so we could do this more easily in the future. I replied ‘no, just do it’ to which the response was ‘if we do set up a rule it will be very much easier next time we try’. At this point I started to get quite cross with my phone and told it in no uncertain terms that there wouldn’t be a next time so just bloody do it. It shut up after that and I got some sleep.

 

Very much sooner than I’d hoped would be the case my phone, perhaps a little hurt, woke me up at the appointed time. I lay there for a while and then started to do what I hoped was my final kit sort. I was pleased to be where I was but dog tired. I looked around the room and there were in various stages of repair people sleeping, faffing with kit or just sitting, staring into space. The room however had the air of a mountain hut with people getting sorted for their final summit push rather than that of a footrace, no-one seeming to be too keen to get up and off.

 

But it had to be done and the regime of overtrousers,  boots and gaiters on over Sealskinz was unconsciously followed once more.  At this stage I considered how lucky I was with the condition of my body. My back, hips and knees had stopped hurting for no discernible reason some days ago and the main issue I had was with the steel bar across my shoulders which meant I was having to try and reposition my rucksack every 10 minutes or so. The combination of Vaseline, Injinji liners and knee length Sealskinz had kept my feet sweaty but otherwise dry and blister free and as such it was no ordeal, as it was for some, to keep rekitting up my feet. The blessing of comfortable, dry and healthy feet just cannot be overlooked on a race like this.

 

I set off from Bellingham on my own but at some point I cannot now for the life of me recall at all I met up again with Dan, Luke and also Colin. I must have met up with them since they are with me on the photos but that part of my journey has gone and those particular brain cells are well and truly fried.  Anyway, what I do recall is that forest followed forest followed forest. The snow was hard going but moving in a group much easier. It was still dark though but hallucination after hallucination kept me entertained . I am no longer alarmed by hallucinations and indeed look forward to seeing what shapes I can find in the trees. Gnomes, wizards, fairies and strange long-legged birds followed me down the track and peered out at me and in the distance camels played ice hockey on one of the fields. The sleepmonsters were well and truly with me but on this occasion the hallucinations were keeping me sufficiently amused to keep the pace going better than it normally did at night.

 

Colin, Dan and Luke in the forest comparing hallucinations

 

As Byrness approached we were summoned for a foot medical at the interim Forest Lodge CP. Quite why this was required I am still unsure but after prodding my feet rather than requiring me to take off my socks they seemed happy enough. We also fed up on soup and meat and potatoes, which was excellent and unexpected but I was keen to get the thing done now.

 

We had been told at this point by organisers that the cut-offs were being amended and were being tightened at Byrness such that a lot of those arriving after us would be pulled. I must confess that since I knew we were ahead of those amended cut-offs I didn’t pay a great deal of attention but I was told it was due to worsening conditions across the Cheviots on the next section.

 

At first the Cheviots seemed innocuous enough. They started with a wicked ascent out of Byrness but the sun came out and I even put on sunglasses. It was still pretty cold though and no kit came off.  As the day progressed the weather did get gradually worse. The sun went in, the clouds came out and the wind increased.  The Cheviots are a big barren expanse of nothingness but of a different  composition to the Pennines, though all that mattered to me, in my little world  was that the bogs hidden under the snow where much more bootsucking and severe than any we had passed earlier. Esteve,  just behind me on the trog up to Hut 1, lost his boot once and on another occasion just could not get out of the bog he had fallen in. Fortunately I heard his cries for help and was able to return to help drag him out. It nearly happened to me on several occasions too and at least three times I only just managed to eventually claw a leg out that had fallen into one of these bogs, one time resulting in a debilitating cramp.

 

Esteve and I got to Hut 1 as it got dark. A stop to crack up the stove for a chicken tikka and rice meal did the business and we were then grouped up for the slog to Hut2 about 8miles distant and itself about 6 miles from the end. As before this section followed the fenceline border between England and Scotland but the conditions of the snow, going from ankle deep over bog to nearer knee deep at times was energy sapping.  Eventually it got so hard to make onward progress that the only way of doing so was to pull yourself up along the fence itself. And it was around here, only a mile or so from Hut 2, and less than 10miles from the end that my race started coming apart. 

 

It just seemed that I couldn’t move forward, I wasn’t cold or particularly tired but the snow just did not seem to be able to bear my weight. I would stand on it and it would collapse. Whereas others seemed to be able to stand on it I would just sink in and the others started to pull away from me. In hindsight I probably did around this point start to become a little disorientated, I was certainly getting very frustrated, irrationally grumbling about my weight for the lack of progress. It was definitely a strange period for me. I was having unusual but realistic déjà vu moments and my whole world was starting to close right up.

 

A couple of the support staff appeared and guided me the rest of the way to Hut 2. Apparently they were doing this for all competitors since it had been apparent from the tracking system that several competitors were moving very slowly.  For some reason we went to Hut 2 via Henhole, which was slightly off route. We picked Colin up along the way since he had apparently been stationary for some time. It may be that is why we went via this route but to be honest I have no idea. Colin in any event confirmed that he had gone off route and ended up in snow so deep he had just not been able to make any forward progress at all.

 

Anyway, eventually we made Hut 2, where everyone was held for a medical. The others who had got there a while before me were about to be released but I was kept back for close to 2 hours whilst I fed up. I wasn’t too pleased about this, particularly since Colin was released straight away and I wasn’t. I was becoming a little paranoid about the cut-offs and it wasn’t perhaps my finest moment. I do recall chuntering on the phone to home, since they had been concerned about my lack of progress over this section too but I am told now that I was talking rubbish, which only served to make them more concerned at home. Tom did his best to get me to eat something and I tried, I really tried but I’m afraid those army dumplings and porridge both seemed to me to taste of the fuel used to cook them, but in the end I got enough down. Thanks for persisting Tom.

 

Eventually the doctor was satisfied that I had recovered sufficiently and allowed both Esteve and myself to leave. The organisers were shadowing racers over this last section and I marched off with Joe in front. I now felt good and much improved thanks to the rest I had been required to take and can only thank the patience of Tom, the doctor and organisers for that and holding me back when I really wanted to be straight back out there.   It was only 6miles to the end now and only one more hill, the Schill. We were supposed to keep together but whilst I had recovered well in the hour I had in the hut, Esteve was suffering and was dreadfully slow. I’d move on quite quickly only then to have to wait 5-10mins for Esteve to catch up. At this rate I’d be lucky to make the 7day cut and eventually Joe got permission for us to split since the waiting periods were causing me to shiver and cool down quickly.

 

The rest was pretty straightforward. I managed the last few miles strongly and without any further incident and as daylight arrived the power levels upped still further and despite another couple of water ice tumbles the finish arrived sooner than I expected and I held onto that wall like it was going to need to support me for the rest of my life. I had made it. There were 24 finishers in the end out of 68 starters, so a 33% finish rate and I was so proud to be one of them. People have already asked me if I am going to do it again and could I have done it better? At present the answer is no and no. I certainly don’t need to do it again since I only ever really just wanted to see if I could get a finish. I suspect only the 1^st half dozen or so are really bothered about placings, I know I’m not and I don’t think any of those around me were either. In the end it was closer than I would have liked it to have been and it’s a race that is most definitely never over till that fat lady is well and truly warbling away but given a different year and a completely different set of variables, could I/would I have come out any better?  I’m not sure I would, so why try and improve on it? A race in which you feel you have done your best and in which your best was good enough is a rare thing indeed and that’s good enough for me.

                  A welcome wall … and defibrillator.