I have now
completed two fell races on subsequent weekends and two completely opposite
experiences. No offence towards organizers, it wasn't your fault and it could
have been other way round just by exchanging the dates of the venues.
About a
week ago I did first of them, Brecon Beacons fell race. It was my first ever real
fell race and an outstanding experience. An iconic 31km route with over 1400m
climb riding through seven summits in the finest parts of Brecon Beacons national
park in Southern Wales filled with goat paths, heather, marshes, rocks, grassy
slopes and breath-taking views. Despite some clouds on the sky earlier in the
morning it turned out a bright and sunny day. You couldn't ask for more for
your first fell race.
It was
category BL race, whatever that means, and required skills included ER, LK, and
NS. It was all gibberish to me but fortunately it was explained that ER meant
"experience required", LK
"local knowledge an advantage"
and NS "navigational skills".
NS check, but the other two requirements raised some concern, especially the
first one. Would they let me start without ANY experience? I just crossed my
fingers (that they would be sympathetic enough to let me start) and drove 2,5h
there ready to pull out all my Finnish ultra long distance orienteering champion and
Jungfrau marathon finisher cards if they refused letting me to start. Also I checked at
least three times my race bag: 2l of water, energy gels, first aid kit, map,
compass, whistle, dry base layer, waterproof jacket & trousers, hat and
gloves. They never checked the kit but I think I had 3kg more in my back than
the rest of the start field. But it didn't matter, I was just happy to get to
start. And it went just perfectly all the way. I took it quite easily at the
beginning knowing that the climbs would wear me out eventually and towards the end
of the race I could actually pace up a bit, overtake a few blokes and finish
just under 3,5 hours. I was pleased and delighted. What a great experience! It
was definitively love at first sight for me. To sum up it was 31,1km with 1429m climb.
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| Corn Ddu and Pen y Fan Cairns |
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| Brecon Beacons map with my GPS-route. Solid race. |
My second
fell race, in contrast, was a real nightmare, the worst-ever experience that I
would rather not want to re-live. When I browsed possible options for the
weekend, Howtown fell race in the northeast Lake District looked most
promising. The only thing that didn't look promising was the weather but I kind
of ignored it. Those few times I've been to Lakes before, it has always turned
out the best eventually. And so I hoped for this time too...But no, no way, it
was all but good, it was horrendous.
It was
raining only lightly when we gathered in a field at Howtown Outward Bound
Centre by Ullswater but it was gray and misty. Loadpot Hill, the first
checkpoint of the 21km unmarked route, raised above us massive and threatening
(SE from the start point, see the map at the end of the page). I was smart enough to wear my whole kit (long
tights, long sleeve layer, waterproof jacket, buff, and gloves) whereas most of
the others had just shorts and made jokes about my winter wear. I'm pretty sure
I was alone to wear gloves and wondered if I should take them off. But already
by the time we reached the first summit I understood that I wasn't overdressed.
I was perhaps the only one properly dressed for the prevailing conditions and
happy to have every extra item on me.
We strode off
from the field up towards a small footpath in the hillside. But just after a
few hundred easy meters on the path (and half of it in vain because you could
have taken a gentler climb by cutting earlier) we headed to the steep slope and
climbed through the brackens using all four limbs. I understood it was going to
be far more challenging than the one a week ago. But everything was still fine
and I was having a good time. After a few more vertical meters I looked down
over my shoulder (for first and last time) and admired the scene (it was gray
but I could still see down). We marched all in a nice and neat queue, there wasn't
really any space to pass anyone unless you wanted to dive into brackens. I felt
I could have gone faster but adjusted my steps to the rhythm of the line. I
focused on my steps eyes fixed into my feet. A few times I tried to glance up
but all I could see was the butt in front of me. The slope was so steep that
you literally looked into next guy's ass if you looked up. So I kept my eyes
down and continued.
.jpg) |
| Loadpot Hill |
Just before
reaching the ridge we get a touch of the gales we are going to face at the top.
I almost stumble over when a strong wind hits me for the first time. I look
around stunned thinking "This is
insane, no-one should go to fells in this weather!" I wonder if anyone
else is worried or concerned. No, they seem just fine and march forward. "Crazy fell runners" I think but
crawl forward. "By the first
checkpoint this should be all over. Organizers will most certainly cancel the
race because of the weather" I assure myself. We reach the top of the
ridge and continue towards the summit. Horizontal rain hits my face like knives
and I regret not having my cycling glasses. Rain is so hard that I can't keep
my eyes open. With my vision severely reduced it's getting harder to keep
going. Fog is also getting thicker and thicker the higher up we get. Others start
to run again and I'm struggling. I don't see anything but try to continue my fight
towards the first summit. Instead of cancelling the race the marshal at the
checkpoint just gives us a supportive smile and cheers forward. "What?! The race is still on?!" "Ok that's the spirit, got it! It is
going to be one hell of a fight and a survival game, far from a lovely run on
the fells." I'm confused but start to understand the real spirit of
fell running...
I adjust,
forget everything else and focus on to catch the blokes in front of me. It's now or never, I have to catch them and
then just dig deep and hang there. My plan works and I reach them. Smile is
gone, joy is gone, this is a fight. I pass the blokes, catch a few more, pass
them...I'm really on fire...but then comes the gap. I've just passed a few
blokes running approximately the same pace with me and those ahead are too far
to catch or even see them properly. "Ok,
good position, just keep the guys ahead in sight until the checkpoint 2 and then
start to read the map". Every orienteer who's been in a hard place in
a relay (=forced to run faster than he/she can) knows the golden rule that you
cannot drop if you don't know where you are. You just need to keep up until you
can read yourself in again. So, according to this rule, I couldn't drop my pace
and I couldn't lose the guys in front. For a second I think of opening the map
but the wind is too hard and the pace is too high. I just squeeze the map
harder in my fist in order not to lose it and fight harder in order not to lose
these guys. I remember High Raise (checkpoint 2) being the highest point of the
ridge that we're running on, so you can't really miss it. After a while I think
I see the summit but after climbing up the last meters I realize that I've lost
the blokes I had been following. I think I've reached the top but it's hard to
be sure because of the fog. I see no marshals, so I continue. Contours are
vague, I cannot be sure if the ridge is still rising or starting to descend.
But then I see the blokes ahead again I follow them. A short descend and up
again. This has to be the summit. But
no one there either. A runner in a black jacket approaches and I ask him about
the checkpoint 2 but he assures it's still ahead. I try to read the map but with
no visibility and no previous knowledge it's hard to make out anything. Another
runner comes and signs us to continue. I hesitate but he seems to know the
fells and where to go. At that point we had already passed High Raise and were running
now down the ridge towards High Street (unfortunately too far south to be shown
on the map).
.jpg) |
| High Raise |
Suddenly
the blokes I'm running with (the ones who had been so confident just a while
ago) stop and look as bewildered as I. I am scared shitless when I realize that
we are lost and none of us knows where to go. It's only the three of us and no
one else in sight. It's worrying. Severity of the weather also hits me and I
start to wonder how long we would survive out there...I'm cold, scared and want
to wake up from this nightmare but it isn't happening. The only way out is to
read in where we are. Thinking logically there aren't too many options. I
realize that there's no way we could get really lost without climbing up
another hill or descending a steep hillside. So we knew we were safe somewhere
between High Raise, Kidsty Pike, Knott and High Street. The problem was that we
couldn't see more than five meters ahead and thus draw any conclusion about which
way to go. You just had to head for one direction to find out if you hit a hill
or an edge.
We
continued south waiting to come to the crossing point of the paths from Kidsty
Pike and High Street (the point where my GPS route goes out of the map). In
reality we had already passed it (without seeing it) and were heading towards
High Street. I got concerned about the fact that the hill was ascending instead
of descending. We continued for a while to be sure that it really was ascending
before turning back. Still unsure I led us towards north hoping to see the
outlines of The Knott (a small hilltop on the down-running spur of Kidsty
Pike). But it wasn't before 10m from it when we finally saw it. Hurray! For the
first time I was 100% sure where we were. I felt relieved but also determined not
to get lost again, so I kept my thumb firmly on the map the rest of the way
(that means I had to stop every hundred meters or so because the wind was too
hard to keep the map open while running). I didn't see the path going down but
used compass to head to right direction. It cleared up as we got down and soon
my friends recognized the stony path in the valley and galloped towards it.
They seemed to know it by heart but a thick fog is a strange thing. It really
prevents you from seeing anything and makes it possible to get lost even on most
familiar paths.
Terrain got
rockier and the wind was still hampering our going. As we reached Satura Crags
(east of Rest Dodd) the wind hit harder again throwing me down to the stones a
few times. I hit my knee and arm but kept going. My friends ahead continued to chat
about checkpoint 2, whether there was a marshal or not and whether we should
have gone back there or not. I couldn't care less. Actually I would have found
their conversation quite funny if I wasn't still too scared and shaken. Don't they understand that it's totally
irrelevant?! All that matters is to get home safe. The sooner the better! I
give shit about the race at that point; it's just about surviving and getting
home. I don't intend to finish the race, I just want to get home.
.jpg) |
| Angle Tarn |
We come
down to Angle Tarn and the worst seems to be over at least for a while. I take
a deep breath and can actually imagine that being a beautiful place in good weather.
Now it's only a shelter from the wind and I appreciate it. Up to pikes ahead
and the wind is back. Not as harsh as before but not very gentle either. I can't
keep up with the blokes I've been with any longer but keep them in sight and plod
forward. After a while I start to catch runners who had passed us during our
extra loop. It feels comforting to see others.
My initial
plan (after surviving from the storm) was to take a shortcut home from Boredale
House through the dale but, before I notice, there I am, climbing up to Place
Fell along with the others. It's strange but I'm walking faster than my fellow
runners and overtake a few of them on the climb. I'm still surprised to see
other competitors out there, I had honestly thought that every sensible person would
have given up and gone home. I'm even more surprised when they smile and seem
to be okay. I ask a few whether they've seen checkpoint 2. "Was there a
checkpoint 2? I never saw it."
.jpg) |
| Place Fell |
At the top
of the hill (check point 3) I recognize a familiar back. She's an orienteer and
experienced fell runner and she wonders where I've been. Embarrassed I admit
not taking her advice about reading the map early on the course but following
some blokes who looked like they knew the route. She grins and I try to smile
back but the petrified expression of horror in my face is hard wipe off and my
eyes are still crying. Anyway, seeing her got me to realize that the worst was
already over, the gale winds were gone and we were just a few miles from home.
Last checkpoint at Hallin Fell was just an out-and-back loop from the road and
I felt tempted to pass it. After all I had already missed the checkpoint 2
(despite the fact that I had been there and passed it from a few metres, just
without seeing a marshal) and expected to be disqualified. But Hallin Fell
(388m) looked like a nice and friendly hill (compared to Loadpot Hill and High
Raise) so I climbed it up anyway and could proudly finish the race after
fighting through the whole f...g course. 24,2km with 1415m climb all in all.
Time is irrelevant, I fought it through in one piece. And so did 47 others. I
still find it hard to believe. After High Raise I didn't think anyone would do
it. It was just too mad in that weather. I think we made about 10-15min extra loop
to High Street but weather made it ridiculous to compete. The bloke in a black
jacket was waiting for me on the roadside just before the finish, so we
finished together. Sweet.
Quite many runners
missed the checkpoint 2 but because of appalling weather and the fact that
everyone who got from Loadpot Hill to Place Fell couldn't avoid passing the
High Raise too, organizers allowed runners who'd been to checkpoints 1, 3 and 4
as finishers. Fair enough I'd say. I'm truly sorry of being rude and missing
the prize giving (if there was one). I didn't know I won and it was the last
thing in my mind when I finished. Congrats to all survivors on that day and thanks
for company to those who shared the adventure with me! I was less scared than I
would have been alone. What a nightmare!
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| Howtown race map with my GPS-route |
P.s. Pictures are clearly not from the race day but from different sources (should be shown when clicking the pic)
