tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-82238365202129078202024-03-19T10:36:30.674+00:00Mike DobsonLong Distance Trail Running and Self Discovery.
"... and I, I took the road less travelled, and it has made all the difference"Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07573531759334080565noreply@blogger.comBlogger53125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8223836520212907820.post-90868772229271889142015-07-07T10:02:00.000+01:002015-07-10T15:07:15.202+01:00The Crosses 53 - 4th July 2015 ............ and it all started so well.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">After what has proved to be an extremely busy year on business, and hence far away from these Northern trails, it was with extreme hope, probably above expectation, coupled with a certain amount of trepidation that I arrived at the start line of the running of The Crosses 53.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">As the title suggests, the Crosses is a 53 mile challenge event comprising a circular moorland trot passing by the ancient stone crosses strung around the high tops and low villages of the North Yorkshire Moors. Starting away westwards, the route skirts around the heads of Glaisdale and Great Fryup before heading down Blakey Ridge, through Lastingham to Appleton-Le-Moors and then climbs back north east through the forests of Cropton and Wardle Rigg, passing Fylingdales and the last loop towards Robin Hoods Bay before a retrace back through Newton House Plantation to the finish. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Directly quoting from the <a href="http://www.srmrt.org.uk/">Scarborough and Ryedale Mountain Rescue Teams own site</a> the Crosses was ..</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">First run in the early 1970's to raise valuable funds for the the Scarborough and District Search and Rescue Team, the event starts and finishes in Goathland and traditionally has to be completed within 24 hours. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The event was held through the 70's and 80's but, unfortunately the team had to call a halt when entries had fallen to such an extent that it was uneconomical to hold the event. The team are resurrecting the event as a one-off just for our fiftieth anniversary over the weekend 4th - 5th July 2015.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">After the misty start of the first section, following the steady climb through a steamy Comb Wood , around Murk Mire Moor, onto Egton High Moor and through Wintergill, the air cleared revealing fabulous views over the head of Glaisdale.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">And it just got better and better, and greener, and clearer and hotter ...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">And then a sudden mad descent through bracken and hidden scree tumbled us down </span><span style="font-size: large;">t<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">owards Mountain Ash Farm; down along and around the winding lane, passing Yew Grange to the first self clip ... followed by a proper stiff climb up Caper Hill; breathtaking to breathless within 5 minutes but with stunning views opening over our shoulders.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">This next section skirting Glaisdale Moor, around Great Fryup Head to Trough House was magical ... sparkling skies with green and purple moorland in every direction. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The wind full in the face, running into the teeth of the prevailing breeze was a joy; I never felt better than on this section ... but I was soon to feel a lot worse.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Leaving Botton Cross, retracing steps back to the Danby Road, passing Fat Betty on the right, with Ralph Cross nicking the horizon in front and with the left swing towards the Lion, the wind was brought across my beam ends; like a hair drier pointing into my right ear. And, ...was that a stone in my shoe?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">... and to catch the runners in front I tried the old "walk strongly" for 50 paces and then "run" 300 paces which worked perfectly for a good hour or so ...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">Now, beyond the Lion and down onto the old railway track, Rosedale and the old minings stood as a terrific left hand backdrop all the way down Blakey Ridge ...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">That stone in my right boot did bother me all the way along the old railway cutting, It appeared that I kicked it badly, and accurately, with every stride and it did come keen. I had taken gels every 6 miles and with plenty of water on board ( even the luke warm plastic water we all carry ) I felt that all was going well, however, the inevitable happened .. nausea always seems to haunt me after a few hours on these mid summer outings and I did feel quite sick above Rosedale Chimney.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">The views all down the ridge were stunning ...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">Even managed a glimpse of RAF Fylingdales in the far eastern distance ...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">and it was only 3.55pm ...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">But, I was baked and as has happened before on more than one occasion on the heights and under the gaze of the full sun, I was sick and shot ... and my number was nearly up.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Finally away from the ridge and down into the shady village of Lastingham. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Was it only me who enviously regarded the two blokes under the awnings in the Blacksmiths Arms taking a cool lager or two? ... was it only me that felt this bad?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">For the few hardy souls that have managed to read this far, you'll be relieved not to have to stand me banging on from here about the history of the Crosses: About how that good servant Lilla flung hisself in front of the Kings would be assassin and paid with his life, or about Peter de Mauley obtaining the Mulgrave Estate by marrying into the de Turnham family and moving "his" cross to gain more land!. No, </span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> that may come later but this is a challenge event first and foremost and that challenge proved insurmountable following what was, for me, a strong first half of the race.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">Running 27th into Appleton-Le-Moors, I was sick again on the lane and that stone in the shoe felt like a house brick. The big toe on the other foot was also showing signs of stress: I knew I'd lose the nail on that one too ......... what was happening?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">My theory, well supported by amongst others Jay Hodde, Rod Dalitz and Karl King is the acknowledgement of the difference between <i>proper hydration </i>and <i>well hydration.</i> Being well hydrated says nothing about the sodium content of fluids and this combination of good hydration yet low sodium causes extra fluid accumulation in the tissues and hence the increase likelihood of blister formation: With too little salt, the layer under the skin swells which makes it easier to disconnect from the underlying tissue. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">Karl King says "Black toenails are often a result of insufficient electrolyte management. Too little sodium makes hands and feet swell. You can see your hands, but you can`t see your feet because they are in your shoes. When the tissues swell because they have excess water, the mechanical strength of the nail footing goes down. Then any movement will do tissue damage. Most of the damage is done in the second half of an ultra when electrolyte status is often thrown off if you don`t take care of it. Not many people get black toenails from a 15-mile run....." that could be me then? </span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">Couple this with a pair of old but well worn shoes and a reluctance to throw away that lucky pair of gnarled old Thorlos then this combination proved a toxic combination too far.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">Perhaps the general sickness was just the effects of pushing on within the intense heat of a hot July day? I sweat like a cheese at any event but I have noticed salt rings accumulating over the day on my running gear which does add weight to the argument that I lose salts and just dont get enough back in? .... any recommendations anyone? anyone tried E-caps Endurolytes?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">Stumbling into Appleton-Le-Moors, a couple of other crosses - High and Low - came and went and i enjoyed a fabulously welcome hot cup of tea!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">The first opportunity to head back north east, through Cropton Forest, was the final straw. Not being able to keep anything down at all and walking with what felt like a bag of marbles in each shoe became a real trial and with the relentless trekking up the long drawn out gun barrel straight avenues I felt like Dante's pilgrim descending into the heat ... this section seemed to go on forever.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">From here, I was overtaken by legions of fellow competitors and without exception all enquired after me ... thank you all, it was very much appreciated and typical of the friendship I have always enjoyed. However, all things must end and f</span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">inally at Mauley Cross checkpoint the feet had given up and I presented an opportunity for the medics to get to work ... that never was a stone in my shoe ... "I have a canula?"</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">Patched up and hobbling along the track up towards Newton Dale and Saltergate I reflected upon my failure and have concluded that the fault lies with me entirely and I'll try and address these issues over the coming weeks and months. Well beaten on the day, but not cowed, I awaited transport back to Goathland from Saltergate as the sun set on a glorious day.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Savaged by the late cloud of midges was the final ignominy but I was privileged to see the first two runners back to the hall in 9.57 ... plenty to think about after today.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Huge thanks to all the SRMR Team for a super day out and a very personal thanks for the team members at checkpoints 7 and 8 for your help, assistance and support ... couldn't have gone a step further ...... but I'll see you all at Saltergate when the temperature is down. Give me a snow flurry anyday. </span></div>
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Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07573531759334080565noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8223836520212907820.post-89820526701591137392015-03-13T16:57:00.000+00:002015-03-16T12:33:02.802+00:00Falcon Flyer - 7th March 2015<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
"Submarine warfare seen in World War One was responsible for one of the most important developments
in British forestry!"<br />
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Caught your attention? <br />
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The first of the 2015 quartet of Challenge Events organised by <a href="http://www.srmrt.org.uk/">SRMRT</a> remains the Falcon Flyer: A 20 mile circular fag around this scenic corner of plantation wooded valleys and quiet dales; bare, early spring nut brown moorland trails and the dramatic sweeping field-side pathways near the coastline of Robin Hoods Bay. And, a mild day was forecast to accompany us around. Notwithstanding the hurricane that tried its best to prevent us heading westwards up and away from the start line of Ravenscar Village Hall at 8.00am, it ultimately turned out to be T-shirt weather for the runners within the hour and remained so for the duration of this fine and worthy event.<br />
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With my woolly hat and wind cheater soon discarded, opening the lid to let off steam, we were away. Not, however, before the chilly first bit through the fir and spruce plantations around Lords Stones, across the A171 Scarborough - Whitby road and down, down into Harwood Dale.<br />
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It is impossible to understand
British forestry - especially these manufactured woodlands - without looking at its history, and the history of the Forestry Commission.
Britain’s first national forestry management institution, The Forestry Commission, was formed in 1919 and born out of events within the first World War with Germany. Timber being an essential material for the prosecution of war, its shortage was caused principally by the U-Boat blockading of the Merchant Fleets of the Allies. In the past, ship and bridge building all demanded huge forest
resources but by World War I, iron had replaced wood for warships, yet nevertheless
14% of cargo carried by British shipping through the blockade of
Britain by German submarines was timber, mostly pit props. Coal mining
was the strategic industry fuelling the Royal Navy and British industry however without ‘mining timber’, coal could not be extracted. Without coal,
British ships would stay tied up and industry would have closed down. By
the end of WWI, German submarines had taught the British a hard lesson;
they could not rely on a forest then covering only 4% of Britain. It simply
could not provide enough timber to survive a war. Consequently the Forestry
Commission was formed and given the task of creating a strategic industrial
forest capable of providing timber for the next war.<br />
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95 years later, improbable bi-products of the industry are the pathways and tracks made between the lines of the conifers, providing miles of the route of more than one of these SRMRT <a href="http://www.srmrt.org.uk/challenge-walks/">Challenge Events</a>. Winding along through these commercial plantations, the track-ways are shared with all manner of off road vehicles - both two and four wheeled - and make for an interesting and challenging passage through the riggs and slacks of this part of the 1436 sq Km National Park.<br />
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Heading north west, away and upwards, from Lownorth Bridge, the landscape became transformed. The trees were left behind and, once past the last of the isolated farms and scrubby fields, we turned a nab of grassy heath, lifted the latch on the final gate and headed out onto the open, exposed moors. Our path being indicated by the cream and gamboge knife cut of a clay bottomed stream-bed through the ling. Splashing through the swangs and dry petrified twigs of the "whams and Hags" of the still lifeless scratchy tops, we aimed for the checkpoint<a href="http://www.srmrt.org.uk/gallery/#mg"> tent </a>- a blip on the horizon - and the welcome turn point back eastwards and civilisation.<br />
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Later in Spring we would hear the Click Click Wrrrrrr of grouse exploding from underfoot and away they would arc into the near distance but today all was quiet. Perhaps it was the wind buffeting, perhaps it was too early in the year but I never saw, or heard, a single bird.<br />
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A first respite from the, now welcomed, tailwind arrived as we dropped thankfully into Jugger Ravine and then the not so welcomed stairs up <a href="https://www.facebook.com/Scarrescue/photos_stream">t'other side</a> before arriving at the car park and the chance for refreshments.<br />
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2 Hours 15 mins gone for me and I tried to sneak down the A171 to the right turn off towards Cook House but was wisely directed immediately left down the old disused road for safety reasons: Thanks for the extra climb fellas! I really appreciated that at the time.<br />
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From here to the finish, I saw no one further. The smiling faces at the checkpoints excepted, this was my sort of outing: A perfect misanthropists trek. Once the brown exposed wind blown moorland was left behind, the Falcon became a tour of dipping field paths and trods, leaf litter filled field borders, steep grass-bank climbs, surprising views and dry stone walls to shelter behind before the dip to the Bay and the shingle beach.<br />
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I felt this section keenly. The wind had blown the fields and paths both bone dry and extremely hard and it took it out of my legs; I don't generally mind being fetlock deep in the mire, it goes with the territory, however I would certainly have welcomed a softer trail today. and I'm sure we could have completed the task in road running shoes: Pass the Ibuprofen for the "owd knees" please.<br />
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These swoops and dives; up, over and down the hills, forests, dales and moors represent the best of natures adventure playground. They exist. They remain long after we've toddled off home and we make the best of them whilst we're out here. We can run them hard - if possible - we can walk them or we can stand and stare just taking it all in - this playground is perfectly indifferent to our plight so we take from it what we want while we're here, that's all we can hope for: There is no interaction: we give, it takes it from us. <br />
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However, A challenge event this is, and today's raison d'etre, so we must test ourselves further as we head up the final climb back home.<br />
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With the<a href="https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.878731902186270.1073741932.194952460564221&type=3"> sea behind,</a> and Stoupe Brow ahead, I did try to run as much of what remained but the light was shining on my fuel tank and a familiar shuffle dragged me to the old train line track and the final section. 3 hours 28 gone - 3 minutes down on last year and I'm sure I felt worse this time around?<br />
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Run 50 steps - walk 10 steps, run 50 - walk 10. then became run 10 - walk 10, then, run 10 and walk for 30 seconds; it must have looked shabby but all things must end and so did I. 3 hours 48 minutes after we kicked off this morning, I jogged stiffly back into the village hall and a welcome steaming mug of tea. 13th overall (again); at least I'm consistent.<br />
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With a day like this, with views like these, being in the company of such peers, how else should I have spent the day? We all raised a few quid for this essential service and had a great jaunt to boot .... look forward to doing it all again in April. Thanks Guys for another great morning out. (I did forget my camera and so thanks to Chris at <a href="http://www.reactionphotography.co.uk/p1000585080">reaction photography</a> for his diligence in catching me and for the team for the use of<a href="https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.878731902186270.1073741932.194952460564221&type=3"> theirs</a>).</div>
Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07573531759334080565noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8223836520212907820.post-92138339004541070192014-07-17T12:50:00.000+01:002014-07-17T20:13:43.946+01:00Golden Jubilee Lyke Wake Race - 12th July 2014<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<br />
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“When you go in with a silent swish, you know it’s going to
be deep …”<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEr_9QHudbVbC1ToWC3Uu31Tfr2QHtU9OoQwjCFGitoj_9BHbpP51kqth3cIQVorpOf8S-QV_2xbIgmMbztpP5p87T5knjuXEJcph8pxFIkN488HPcQJJXeD8ObxqXy1AifxZEanj3EXQ/s1600/wake+race+002+LWW+stone.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEr_9QHudbVbC1ToWC3Uu31Tfr2QHtU9OoQwjCFGitoj_9BHbpP51kqth3cIQVorpOf8S-QV_2xbIgmMbztpP5p87T5knjuXEJcph8pxFIkN488HPcQJJXeD8ObxqXy1AifxZEanj3EXQ/s1600/wake+race+002+LWW+stone.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This quote could only relate to the Lyke Wake Walk – the 42
mile trek along the North Yorkshire Moorland paths and trails between
Osmotherley, on the western edge of the moors, and Ravenscar away on the coast
- and it has to be my favourite of all relating to this event. It’s found in the Lyke Wake Walk booklet* and
is contained within an eventful crossing description of many years ago. Another
favourite, courtesy of an East West traverse, and relating to the wildlife of
the Moors came from a lady who, upon being asked what the going was like,
replied “Fine, never been better, but watch out for bears! “**<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUuPo6RJAiLUpef4V6pG4-AnuLZ1PFsdURPgTGMjhECpcdSNAB_Mg76Zg7qsIF2V01ouhcsllt2DCD6UQwSwtRP-RhYUguPwSpiAVynJgaYoNLFRg-IVBGl7upeEczMth_0o9u6QQSJLk/s1600/wake+race+003+cowley+stone.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUuPo6RJAiLUpef4V6pG4-AnuLZ1PFsdURPgTGMjhECpcdSNAB_Mg76Zg7qsIF2V01ouhcsllt2DCD6UQwSwtRP-RhYUguPwSpiAVynJgaYoNLFRg-IVBGl7upeEczMth_0o9u6QQSJLk/s1600/wake+race+003+cowley+stone.jpg" height="226" width="320" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
No chance of those bears being Polar on race Day. With the
annual Race Day always landing on the nearest Saturday to July the 10<sup>th</sup>,
and, for what seems like forever now, the race day has appeared to have landed again
on the hottest day of the year. This heat is starting to finish me off! … Is it
just me? </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My fifth, and final, Lyke Wake Race happened to coincide
with the 50<sup>th</sup> anniversary of the Race and with me now reaching 50
years of age; well it seemed logical and contained a certain symmetry for me to
bow out of a fantastic event and head out onto newly discovered alternative
long distance trails.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1opZ03icRjVDyrC9UJRo4ikGsojDjrux26FVn_hp-Mr0QQtx8ax9nPDZ-VAAG5xoffbU_SMJj6A3Erof7F9o-sf9NsFE492N_jXhUgASGhCzmKs6-mWQeCZldVxt8e54DBOxlstEJwhk/s1600/wake+race+004+scugdale.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1opZ03icRjVDyrC9UJRo4ikGsojDjrux26FVn_hp-Mr0QQtx8ax9nPDZ-VAAG5xoffbU_SMJj6A3Erof7F9o-sf9NsFE492N_jXhUgASGhCzmKs6-mWQeCZldVxt8e54DBOxlstEJwhk/s1600/wake+race+004+scugdale.jpg" height="152" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwjkuH_VVSpwKyJdzQ57kk6S6P_auS4jooa0uQbIV7y1PBaSiFchNEICiohMBqQmqxPYUmD_cJw1ef1NliLz8tYuHTcieOC_BomC1rMvxwhEg-g2O9mcVSPiERma_WkkRpP5Wn3dH_Wbw/s1600/wake+race+005+live+moor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwjkuH_VVSpwKyJdzQ57kk6S6P_auS4jooa0uQbIV7y1PBaSiFchNEICiohMBqQmqxPYUmD_cJw1ef1NliLz8tYuHTcieOC_BomC1rMvxwhEg-g2O9mcVSPiERma_WkkRpP5Wn3dH_Wbw/s1600/wake+race+005+live+moor.jpg" height="141" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br />
I’ll never be a stranger to running out on these Moors;
there remains so many new trails, paths and trods to be explored upon the
tabular tops that it could take a lifetime to get to know them all as
intimately as I’ve come to know the LWR over the last few years, and I’m only a
novice scratching at the surface, but I’m not sure that the relentless heat of
those heady mid-summer July race crossings can be sustained. Give me a good
thunderstorm and a heady tumult any day of the week.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>I fancy a first dip at both the Hambleton
Hobble and the Shepherd`s Round, possibly later on this year, when hopefully
it’ll be cooler in these parts; watch this space for a moorland crosses round.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZvNC0AJQsH39a4FIKx1487X6GIvuI2OlcN5m2tFVAMA4CbNFaTFVqG9Nsk4zDmdEc5xvNnTzaTqvMXV8F9NKxTLNefR07I7QjowDdESSYdDBj8KZsaPcEfoh1OX2Y0G4vhtZ55TY80ls/s1600/fylingdales+004+malo+cross.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZvNC0AJQsH39a4FIKx1487X6GIvuI2OlcN5m2tFVAMA4CbNFaTFVqG9Nsk4zDmdEc5xvNnTzaTqvMXV8F9NKxTLNefR07I7QjowDdESSYdDBj8KZsaPcEfoh1OX2Y0G4vhtZ55TY80ls/s1600/fylingdales+004+malo+cross.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The Lyke Wake Race: What to say of an event I’ve enthused
about quite a few times before? … For example, another couple of crossings here
in <a href="http://mike-viewfromtherear.blogspot.co.uk/2012/07/lyke-wake-race-7th-july-2012.html">2012</a> and <a href="http://mike-viewfromtherear.blogspot.co.uk/2013/07/lyke-wake-race-13th-july-2013.html">2013</a> even back in <a href="http://mike-viewfromtherear.blogspot.co.uk/2010/07/lyke-wake-race-10th-july-2010.html">2010</a>.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The Golden Jubilee race was a hot affair, but the help and
support provided by the teams all the way from Sheepwash to the penultimate
check at Jugger Howe was never anything less than perfect; only bettered by the
cheering of our patient families as we broke into the finishing dash, through
the trees and out onto the short sloping field towards the tent at Raven Hall
in the late afternoon.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The scenery to my mind is the best of any long distance
trail race:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
From the start overlooking the miles of northern patchwork
flats away to Teesdale and Roseberry Topping, it is breathtaking looking both westwards
towards the Dales and then back South from where we’ve come up from. These
views are stunning.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirrvGLYYcehrgXsqU1npTcGrC94lTxaAW8di1wcbQ6h-BWgap_28MDw60UKXqbjYJC6r0PTjAXKbyLZAMm0fAssAQpZf_mYUo9X46nFy9aFUe8NLk6KGESCV6F8XwbeX9fmARfqB6sHc0/s1600/wake+race+006+south.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirrvGLYYcehrgXsqU1npTcGrC94lTxaAW8di1wcbQ6h-BWgap_28MDw60UKXqbjYJC6r0PTjAXKbyLZAMm0fAssAQpZf_mYUo9X46nFy9aFUe8NLk6KGESCV6F8XwbeX9fmARfqB6sHc0/s1600/wake+race+006+south.jpg" height="164" width="320" /></a></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy11oe-lMd6jGX8DBCEQTLfxliZOfKs_x7_RAVDa81Zp35cM8YsenfcmOzETPwjprsh13TV6h6bpBBtzvt9imyn7IVlVE4Ph_pci7Gh8n4gSovyRFTlLaLPqzIxrE60_rSBCL4gQyfJww/s1600/wake+race+007+roseberry.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy11oe-lMd6jGX8DBCEQTLfxliZOfKs_x7_RAVDa81Zp35cM8YsenfcmOzETPwjprsh13TV6h6bpBBtzvt9imyn7IVlVE4Ph_pci7Gh8n4gSovyRFTlLaLPqzIxrE60_rSBCL4gQyfJww/s1600/wake+race+007+roseberry.jpg" height="134" width="320" /></a></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWJ-8b7Bx6eBmUoif6u8iAlJq6igumN2oSgo5pOhiNs_h4xEUYpEB_obYGqHIduAfAyA4lW0NIj1RXRxv7OviN7yXI12DMJ6VjqcFQu1eV_LJL86Q55O7nxABWanbl1P6QonfFuroKfdw/s1600/wake+race+008+carlton+moor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWJ-8b7Bx6eBmUoif6u8iAlJq6igumN2oSgo5pOhiNs_h4xEUYpEB_obYGqHIduAfAyA4lW0NIj1RXRxv7OviN7yXI12DMJ6VjqcFQu1eV_LJL86Q55O7nxABWanbl1P6QonfFuroKfdw/s1600/wake+race+008+carlton+moor.jpg" height="165" width="320" /></a></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivRUkW9cYCr0aZeRkYcvJDGzAR3LPIWtIRewvHj6fiEYAL43xZZ-9675KGKimreesbOaMHsNJ5H45rO2NHlAQBIVYplsBLolApU_qLR08KF3HohuWwDZn0JyemJ9PYxOH2mXtFHGQLXXQ/s1600/wake+race+012+hasty+bank.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivRUkW9cYCr0aZeRkYcvJDGzAR3LPIWtIRewvHj6fiEYAL43xZZ-9675KGKimreesbOaMHsNJ5H45rO2NHlAQBIVYplsBLolApU_qLR08KF3HohuWwDZn0JyemJ9PYxOH2mXtFHGQLXXQ/s1600/wake+race+012+hasty+bank.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
I did manage a continued run this time along the disused
train track via Bloworth to the Lion where our “fab four” of Dave Burke, Joe
Williams, Kevin Hughes and I climbed up the hill to get to the Lion in what was a good
time for me: 3.26 for these first 18 miles.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoqNJYL2m61jnzjdvZiit2oCod8vutWwhrAGAu05kWGQOWtGsTwvXzZr6bzT5ApG8RS7TOE-9rMMVfBDemHRk4QDbUOqzUgmlcE8BuTPOLs9-WYpaIlp0NW0NwUdj8UQ_X7OYydFcjASo/s1600/wake+race+013+boys+at+the+lion.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoqNJYL2m61jnzjdvZiit2oCod8vutWwhrAGAu05kWGQOWtGsTwvXzZr6bzT5ApG8RS7TOE-9rMMVfBDemHRk4QDbUOqzUgmlcE8BuTPOLs9-WYpaIlp0NW0NwUdj8UQ_X7OYydFcjASo/s1600/wake+race+013+boys+at+the+lion.jpg" height="155" width="320" /></a></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It was already packed under the awning of the checkpoint in
the Car Park as the sun beat down upon us.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibHyouePvnqKoJenr_T-VraLxU5KfxN_Vgg4FAg-I2jq-cUk3Sq9UeWsfiZnHSO3asfEeD_sKxAFzKCvjiEm1Q1xYGlalprw8h7whSaWirNrLjwOKn5bSRcZjRtr2E4YHDhqQrVo0Nrj8/s1600/wake+race+014+lion+cp.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibHyouePvnqKoJenr_T-VraLxU5KfxN_Vgg4FAg-I2jq-cUk3Sq9UeWsfiZnHSO3asfEeD_sKxAFzKCvjiEm1Q1xYGlalprw8h7whSaWirNrLjwOKn5bSRcZjRtr2E4YHDhqQrVo0Nrj8/s1600/wake+race+014+lion+cp.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
We then hit the moors and the lonely boundary markers to
guide us eastwards. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMZ8JBrEwXZnT6vIk1u1r6NtnShttOMTgbqmPZo3BvlYd28lr_GYglRKhF0RkZY9Eg-rMtxoEBYWL0gViJ52U7r02SuUIBZup7x0fdF6nFAwc3XRy_4hkJ7F1vqq9mVFdb7Mj1R0Rktr8/s1600/wake+race+015+moorland+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMZ8JBrEwXZnT6vIk1u1r6NtnShttOMTgbqmPZo3BvlYd28lr_GYglRKhF0RkZY9Eg-rMtxoEBYWL0gViJ52U7r02SuUIBZup7x0fdF6nFAwc3XRy_4hkJ7F1vqq9mVFdb7Mj1R0Rktr8/s1600/wake+race+015+moorland+1.jpg" height="141" width="320" /></a></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Bogs, flowers, dry tracks, wet tracks … and the looked for,
and eagerly anticipated, isolation of wild moorland:</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTb5We3I_wNVIEN58zrJylOjsVTJBgbXgJHUlOgZKJzOWWRALJatp3POKHKaMOvfwps9szWWePYSBLVgnO-9l5wyP6Wexj74JWJLmsjiaOzm1OUoNP_emxQteKFj4f-GQkP676HuTaW1g/s1600/wake+race+016+moorland+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTb5We3I_wNVIEN58zrJylOjsVTJBgbXgJHUlOgZKJzOWWRALJatp3POKHKaMOvfwps9szWWePYSBLVgnO-9l5wyP6Wexj74JWJLmsjiaOzm1OUoNP_emxQteKFj4f-GQkP676HuTaW1g/s1600/wake+race+016+moorland+2.jpg" height="186" width="320" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Blow winds! blow fiercely: it is good to feel</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Thy bite again! The long, long torpid days</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Of pent-up agony and pain: the ways –</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
of Helplessness are dead! I feel my heel</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Plunge deep into the bracken and the turf,</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
The moorish wine intoxicates my head:</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
And I do feel with happiness full-fed,</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Like one who deeply breathes the breath o` the surf!</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
The Sky`s the bluest ever I did see:</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
The grass the greenest ever kist the dew:</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
My heart is melting in an ecstasy</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
I will go far over the waste-lands,</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>To
the lonely moorland tarn,</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
With only the sky for company</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>And
the wind-swept mountain cairn</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
(Moors Again and The Waste-Lands … from Alfred Brown
(Poems & Songs 1949))</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then, in the middle of this expanse of nothingness,
seemingly from nowhere, a clutch of motor vehicles; the chatter of supporters,
the laughter of children, the blue tent of the marshals and the hubbub of the
checkpoint is upon us: Fresh water, juice, jelly babies, jaffa cakes, “Hows it
going?”<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDGdlv8sze-5IuXyJn6nDlWM971NO7f08C_qc6ktI-HMemU5j1b1S_sojR_-Pqs_qzYLbNJ9gQjNUf25kRiCJ3oY0bfa8A9leQQUmqlattJS-tzdKgBUgNJkh8iBr0nchH8Nd4dUqz2pI/s1600/wake+race+017+hamer+road.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDGdlv8sze-5IuXyJn6nDlWM971NO7f08C_qc6ktI-HMemU5j1b1S_sojR_-Pqs_qzYLbNJ9gQjNUf25kRiCJ3oY0bfa8A9leQQUmqlattJS-tzdKgBUgNJkh8iBr0nchH8Nd4dUqz2pI/s1600/wake+race+017+hamer+road.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Couldn’t even get a seat at Hamer Road what with Dave Burke
taking a leisurely break in the sun then with Kevin Hughes next in the queue, well I
just had to press on – away east towards the Blue man i` the Moss.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then, just after taking a picture at 26.2 miles, and my pack
making steady progress, I kicked a rock that never moved and went head over
ears, luckily landing in the bracken at the path side, narrowly avoiding the
hard dry sandstone rock strewn track.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDH5H8M8570yjXetjQS8Xn_OKOXfKveLyCcNUmRhLYhj_8m9iSLnx-TYuNLzel3ZmUTlMW7_P-Q9GP_8k3L8_lPFQVtq_1hf8fzYhecataQgFuCmAdQPNR0tKJm8UUJJgoTeiiYNIW7AU/s1600/wake+race+018+26.2+miles.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDH5H8M8570yjXetjQS8Xn_OKOXfKveLyCcNUmRhLYhj_8m9iSLnx-TYuNLzel3ZmUTlMW7_P-Q9GP_8k3L8_lPFQVtq_1hf8fzYhecataQgFuCmAdQPNR0tKJm8UUJJgoTeiiYNIW7AU/s1600/wake+race+018+26.2+miles.jpg" height="183" width="320" /></a></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The leg stiffened and I couldn’t bend my knees to dip the
kerchief into the beck at Wheeldale Stones ...<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiau0f-e2iqHxacy-kp_OXq5X2tGsNGKyeWcEWfhtYwXVTtkKoQKOjj2FDpHixtdWD_GxmeWsPcTwE8OCE67JEbcXwAinCUVQFusdFIYuJ7Rd5QisedgIAYabvJbQjIf5XhN9DbDGcZyCc/s1600/wake+race+019+wheeldale+stones.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiau0f-e2iqHxacy-kp_OXq5X2tGsNGKyeWcEWfhtYwXVTtkKoQKOjj2FDpHixtdWD_GxmeWsPcTwE8OCE67JEbcXwAinCUVQFusdFIYuJ7Rd5QisedgIAYabvJbQjIf5XhN9DbDGcZyCc/s1600/wake+race+019+wheeldale+stones.jpg" height="181" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
and at Simon Howe I tripped again –
losing a contact lens in the process. Things had been blurred before but this
was a whole new view. Just as well that the camera was self focusing as it
really was point and shoot from now on.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl8auCQn5pJ4tI1tu8iubi7C3f2NPjoTrSPn9e-ukwOJn_8S7gkSGkYjpcm6d2gtTDq5e3Fn41hsJZK_1EJRHjKA12Uw3JrSejdVTHw08hya2NBUydcc35iBu7dGuB6yku6hi2RKSEX34/s1600/wake+race+020+simon+howe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl8auCQn5pJ4tI1tu8iubi7C3f2NPjoTrSPn9e-ukwOJn_8S7gkSGkYjpcm6d2gtTDq5e3Fn41hsJZK_1EJRHjKA12Uw3JrSejdVTHw08hya2NBUydcc35iBu7dGuB6yku6hi2RKSEX34/s1600/wake+race+020+simon+howe.jpg" height="166" width="320" /></a></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Black Houe and
Blakey Houe</i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Two Houes and Three
Houes</i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Widow Houe and
Foster Houes</i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Silhoue and Shunner
Houe</i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Pen Houe and
Trattle Houe</i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Robbed Houe and
Wheeldale Houe</i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Louven Houe and
Lilla Houe.</i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
And the ghostly shades foregather now</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
On Simon Houe</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
(On Simon Houe … Alfred Brown (Poems & Songs 1949)</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Couldn’t believe how hot the day had become at Ellerbeck and the heat slowed us dreadfully but,
with the penultimate stage upon us, the normal spent grind resumed and we sighted, for the
second successive year, fog at Robin Hoods Bay! Then, passing the ever
impassive Lilla Cross at the top of the rise we had a slight breeze for the
next half hour downhill.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk6XUk_dJrXskTXXOLc7inbQ2quptZzfaoAgt0CVo2dWGS68kX0FETzeCp8Iv0xLVYHoD5YRwA9dWypAGWUnKdXgXy9IFNDebsHdcpXGaBWlEk4LbY-rOjlCFzGTNWSWfJo61BMEbpIRc/s1600/wake+race+021+duck+pond.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk6XUk_dJrXskTXXOLc7inbQ2quptZzfaoAgt0CVo2dWGS68kX0FETzeCp8Iv0xLVYHoD5YRwA9dWypAGWUnKdXgXy9IFNDebsHdcpXGaBWlEk4LbY-rOjlCFzGTNWSWfJo61BMEbpIRc/s1600/wake+race+021+duck+pond.jpg" height="177" width="320" /></a></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The chalky dry track on the way down towards Jugger Howe
almost gave me snow blindness and with nearly one eye working I took the
inevitable fall going down into the ravine at Jugger – three falls but no
submission and we were nearly home.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyrjdUIFuUwWwfztw-sSIpw9W6tQgB0bC-ym25PyYUkf-QKuj8NG10O9zyZpHgtzzp4Qk_GigdYlVNKq5qW0AwjyRnukK27T3mdrr3DaFvnXWk63iiaQHlDOGvgYlt_QWEl0o8fMZEGBk/s1600/wake+race+022+jugger.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyrjdUIFuUwWwfztw-sSIpw9W6tQgB0bC-ym25PyYUkf-QKuj8NG10O9zyZpHgtzzp4Qk_GigdYlVNKq5qW0AwjyRnukK27T3mdrr3DaFvnXWk63iiaQHlDOGvgYlt_QWEl0o8fMZEGBk/s1600/wake+race+022+jugger.jpg" height="163" width="320" /></a></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Joe Williams snatched a place from me by snaffling a can of
coke from somewhere at the Car Park and therefore suitably refreshed strode on
ahead – I saw no sign of those legal highs and rightly berated him for keeping
that a secret. Dave Burke caught Kevin Hughes and I back up at the hill atop Ravenscar
and our shambling pack tumbled back down the back field, along the lane then
turning left and down, down to the finish – joined in the end by an impressive
and fit looking mob from Chapel Allerton Runners.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJsWth2AKIvsW97B-PxrRImr6FLuGrT_yqIMKNP-KygXW0emIUXE6nHjtGdmstYriS7QAM40xTfNh4KNCABRJE4d806E2tpseO8RK-9HRypwR7cWe1UDAcIagBIzVJsV1TuLCCmDDE8qM/s1600/wake+race+023+end.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJsWth2AKIvsW97B-PxrRImr6FLuGrT_yqIMKNP-KygXW0emIUXE6nHjtGdmstYriS7QAM40xTfNh4KNCABRJE4d806E2tpseO8RK-9HRypwR7cWe1UDAcIagBIzVJsV1TuLCCmDDE8qM/s1600/wake+race+023+end.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
9 hours 34 by my
watch, as I was a bit late setting out from Sheepwash that morning; a time I
was more than happy with. I have done two quicker crossings and two slower ones
in the past and so today's’ will do just fine.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
How good to see the finishing field full of supporters mingling
with marshals and runners and to meet friends old and new who finished in
various states from seemingly fresh top notch runners to somewhat ordinary
looking mid-pack shufflers like me. Grimy, tired, slightly nauseous or
downright sick with the heat and humidity and effort or just simply peat stained, we
all shared a common smugness of having completed the challenge.</div>
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<br />
Always a big thank you to Paul Sherwood who has been
organising this for so long with his team of fine helpers that he clearly is
nearly as old as Lilla Cross! Only joking Paul. Fifty years service to the race along with the cantakerous and autocratic ways eh? The event would never have been the same - sir, take a bow. Personally, a huge thank you from me for giving me
the chance to pootle along and write these notes over the years. To all competitors both old and
new – good to see you and good luck next year for a great crossing – the new organisers must be quaking
in their shoes!<br />
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<br />
* Lyke Wake Walk and the Lyke Wake Way - Bill Cowley Dalesman Books 1983<br />
** Lyke Wake Report by J.M. Robertson from Lyke Wake Lamentations - The Bog-side Book - Bill Cowley & Phil Morgan Dalesman Books 1979 </div>
Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07573531759334080565noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8223836520212907820.post-73595220408915064882014-07-10T17:16:00.001+01:002014-07-10T17:16:39.981+01:00A Fylingdales Round - 5th July 2014<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
... and 14 miles on a steaming hot July moorland Saturday afternoon; bagging two of the many ancient stone crosses on the North Yorkshire Tops along the way.<br />
<br />
Always remaining a goal of mine is to complete the 54 mile Moorland Crosses Round however a seemingly relentless and endless drive in my business life has rendered all spare time for training as rare as a hen's tooth and so I must grind out tough runs as and when they can be snatched. Today was such a day.<br />
<br />
The Grand Depart of Le Tour was underway away in the west, ultimately being watched by well over a couple of million souls but I remain a terrible sporting spectator these days so I took a great chance to get away from the madding crowd and to head up north and moor wards: The plan being to run around the perimeter fence of RAF Fylingdales early warning station, taking a wide arc to catch a few decent trails and to make this a good off-road training run.<br />
<br />
A fine, clear, late morning start from the Car Park facing the Hole of Horcum, we headed away east of north, along, over and then down Whinny Nab to Malo Cross and the first picture stop.<br />
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"Malo Cross was originally raised at some time after 1220 AD and, similar to Mauley Cross, is named after the de Mauley family who resided at Mulgrave Castle away on the coast above Whitby. (Peter de Mauley obtaining the Mulgrave Estate by marrying into the de Turnham family). The Cross stands at the foot of Whinny Nab on a branch of a Pannierman`s road running south west from Lilla Cross.<br />
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On the head of the Cross is the initial K with RE underneath - Sir Richard Egerton Kt" *<br />
Sir Richard, who erected the stone in 1619, was notorious in the C17th for moving stones then claiming them in order to snatch more land than he was entitled to. Other de Mauley boundary stones are the aforementioned Mauley Cross, north of Stape, and Brown Howe Cross - now in the Castle Museum in York<br />
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To the present and under the southern eaves of RAF Fylingdales, the route struck out north along a fir woodland field boundary then hit the hard chalk track of Worm Syke and firstly eastwards then curving around north up towards the furthest east point of the days run - Lilla Cross. <br />
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This ancient 10 foot high cross sits upon a ruined, and possibly Bronze Age, barrow called Lilla Howe. It has some barely decipherable letters carved upon its face, one in particular being a large "C" possibly meaning Christos (Christ) along with a small thin cross. There are a few other faded hieroglyphics now difficult to decipher. A plaque on a nearby stone gives some narrative of its history:<br />
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According to legend, in AD 625 ish King Edwin of Northumbria was traveling with his entourage across the moors when he met with an assassin who had been dispatched by the King of the West Saxons to kill him. The assassin struck with his poisoned tipped sword but Lilla, his chief court minister, flung himself between the King and the swordsman, taking the full and fatal thrust - dying on the spot and thus saving the Kings' life. Being much impressed by this selfless act of devotion, Edwin ordered that Lilla, being a newly converted Christian, be buried here in a Christian manner. The King then had a cross erected in memory at the spot where Lilla died. It does appear that the cross dates from the C10th, though there may well have been an earlier Saxon cross here.<br />
In 1952, the cross was moved to Sil Howe near Goathland but 10 years later it was returned to its original site on top of Lilla Howe. Lilla Cross has consistently been referred to by historians as the oldest Christian cross on the North York Moors **.<br />
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Turning west, the path headed back down the Lyke Wake Track, over the busy A169 across Ellerbeck, Fen Bog and over the North York Moors Railway, upwards towards Simon Howe<br />
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Standing by the tall, neat cairn of Simon Howe, gazing away eastwards over Wheeldale towards Stape, it became apparent that I ought to have packed the P20.<br />
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It proved hot work under a cloudless early moortop afternoon and then a relief to get away down southwards back into the shade of the woodland fir plantations and the final careful cliff side descent down Needle Point to Newton dale ...</div>
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... back over the NYM railway and, beyond the boundary fence, through a wood - a latter-day Fanghorn <br />
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We have only passed this way once before, as part of the route of the Saltergate Circuit organised by the Scarborough and Ryedale Mountain rescue mob, and, again have never been in a thicker, darker space. <br />
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Incredible to think it was a scorchingly clear blue day outside ... on both occasions. Inevitably the short round came to an end, coming up out of Newton Dale ... <br />
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and passing the old, and now partly derelict, Saltergate Inn on route back to the car park and the welcome stop for ice cold water from the resident ice cream van and the final glimpse over Horcum. <br />
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<br />
A short round of 14 miles but several sharp up and downs delivered a smart testing few hours of moorland trails in preparation for revisiting these parts in the main event - but heading in the other direction - next Saturday.<br />
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*An illustrated Guide to Crosses on the North Yorkshire Moors - E. Ogilvie and A. Sleightholme: 1994 the Village Green Press<br />
** Woodwark, T.H., the crosses on the North York Moors, Whitby Literary & amp; Philosophical Society 1934.<br />
</div>
Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07573531759334080565noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8223836520212907820.post-58318718972982621902014-05-20T16:14:00.002+01:002014-05-25T19:56:21.596+01:00Ravenscar Half Marathon - 11th May 2014<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<br />
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Following hot on the heels of our first ever road marathon
completion, rushing around the streets of Paris back on an early April Sunday
morning, with hardly any opportunity to stop and take it all in; the city, the
sights, the journey; then how refreshing it was to be back onto my heath of
choice – the muddy coastal tracks and uncrowded byways of the North Yorkshire
Moors.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_C7eU4eAZjJ4HIlsQVy_M-wBfyvXmLo_g8sSrp3smquL6vSytLPW1eMwaikGxvP492EoXOhurN6J854CfGToVo9zyogBJZsTlpdRCeNAUrDSxcIwqrfuzUaEyzV9Wjj2zMaOhDKgkTFE/s1600/marathon+009+robin+hoods+bay.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_C7eU4eAZjJ4HIlsQVy_M-wBfyvXmLo_g8sSrp3smquL6vSytLPW1eMwaikGxvP492EoXOhurN6J854CfGToVo9zyogBJZsTlpdRCeNAUrDSxcIwqrfuzUaEyzV9Wjj2zMaOhDKgkTFE/s1600/marathon+009+robin+hoods+bay.jpg" height="149" width="320" /></a></div>
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To spend a Sunday morning raising a couple of quid for the
Scarborough and Rydedale Mountain Rescue Team is to grab, with both hands, a great chance of
running along one of the most spectacular coastal pathways of England. As
opposed to the 39115 multinational finishers in Paris, what a contrast and
grounding to be back in a field of 109 local fellow off road fanatics: We all
had an equally great morning out in scenery that cant be bettered and even finished
with smiles on our faces – or was mine a grimace?<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV29KtlLQhio8hxpjWBFNoQZ9JuDwsP3KFj12LVop4dUArztJpdgQZkJ1IEJ8rcBgLU-KSB_byQfIORnrYgq9Sdb18g076Yukn-s2L0yjB_YAJ2BSJLi7FBQhRUFaspZ-3drU_tJLqM1U/s1600/marathon+006+start.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV29KtlLQhio8hxpjWBFNoQZ9JuDwsP3KFj12LVop4dUArztJpdgQZkJ1IEJ8rcBgLU-KSB_byQfIORnrYgq9Sdb18g076Yukn-s2L0yjB_YAJ2BSJLi7FBQhRUFaspZ-3drU_tJLqM1U/s1600/marathon+006+start.jpg" height="221" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
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One of the holy trinity of challenge events provided by the
Scarborough and Rydedale Mountain rescue Team, this is the shortest but
possibly the testiest of their offerings and the first time that Lady M and I have managed to get to it.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0uzo0jL0nIt7dF3ko14JQMSjjAXQcfCEoq-tYbgvX7ru-Kl-pormIAo2K1MwdeAUP3oT13fl2anxF-RoYNuzFCYEpXGq-ZlZvAFvfFFwVj4CEuWf2vlCOETLEw8PP3JtpTVEk1KXkx8U/s1600/marathon+007+ravenscar.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0uzo0jL0nIt7dF3ko14JQMSjjAXQcfCEoq-tYbgvX7ru-Kl-pormIAo2K1MwdeAUP3oT13fl2anxF-RoYNuzFCYEpXGq-ZlZvAFvfFFwVj4CEuWf2vlCOETLEw8PP3JtpTVEk1KXkx8U/s1600/marathon+007+ravenscar.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
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Initially away down from the village hall, through the lanes
of Ravenscar and onto the Cleveland Way coastal footpath just beyond Raven Hall
Hotel, the stunning expanse of the sea views to our left, as we headed
southwards, were as jaw dropping as ever.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA7TOAZWAjcBmhZg7obbepoZxtod3KDcDFl7eqIDht2PZtIgpA_6_-ZugbjiWM8-IdHgWEmlcWIis7BFa2MZA_NdzJEqaofIgRp6LcH2xqQe11zTsIy3viqxXh6GKxgc_78sU8nq00PzI/s1600/marathon+011+cliff+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA7TOAZWAjcBmhZg7obbepoZxtod3KDcDFl7eqIDht2PZtIgpA_6_-ZugbjiWM8-IdHgWEmlcWIis7BFa2MZA_NdzJEqaofIgRp6LcH2xqQe11zTsIy3viqxXh6GKxgc_78sU8nq00PzI/s1600/marathon+011+cliff+1.jpg" height="186" width="320" /></a></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyskDk0cYvZ4ZeZVTzG4orYdzenw9ZYC4jf2ymFHKekx-Eq4S58opNfaP0d6XZ-lBMitDwDyLvE-nNj0QbCgIsR9x1Bt7wAhJrlqBjXok4yclK1sdqlUQpZrTJ1HriKYF5d3rM1XPBbw8/s1600/marathon+013+cliff2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyskDk0cYvZ4ZeZVTzG4orYdzenw9ZYC4jf2ymFHKekx-Eq4S58opNfaP0d6XZ-lBMitDwDyLvE-nNj0QbCgIsR9x1Bt7wAhJrlqBjXok4yclK1sdqlUQpZrTJ1HriKYF5d3rM1XPBbw8/s1600/marathon+013+cliff2.jpg" height="198" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br />
But the sea to our left is all too soon a memory.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqerxnlbdf2s61g7dn24Eqqr5Lh6OV5IJ3vZ91n7OE7_Fm03TAIyF3E_beTM8JVKKzRNOS-jFdv-rIOwQ3rzDXcmJPx8N1-vxkYI_vEv-rJIPCsPvupwBCJ142AArXpQCE0ABeCWO2nRA/s1600/marathon+014+petard+point.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqerxnlbdf2s61g7dn24Eqqr5Lh6OV5IJ3vZ91n7OE7_Fm03TAIyF3E_beTM8JVKKzRNOS-jFdv-rIOwQ3rzDXcmJPx8N1-vxkYI_vEv-rJIPCsPvupwBCJ142AArXpQCE0ABeCWO2nRA/s1600/marathon+014+petard+point.jpg" height="182" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
At Petard
Point, we were whisked inland through fields and down farm lanes, passing through
Plane Tree Farm and its namesake cottages before a sharp neat twist back right
and steeply down over the stream via the stepping stones (or the footbridge, like M, if you
preferred drier feet) then steeply back up through a wet field before joining
the long downhill cinder track at Staintondale.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisnoo-rX-Ieu3u9ViG1KV4j-9DwRUDhCMYMOLt4t1ui1DFn0WhFbg64Leu-xD1SKptO9QRbRaF-Lo0hfhogobsZW0PM6yvAadpeR79m2lhAv1sX6n_j1H5zEXXt1xPOo1KapKFi94LEbE/s1600/marathon+015+farm+track.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisnoo-rX-Ieu3u9ViG1KV4j-9DwRUDhCMYMOLt4t1ui1DFn0WhFbg64Leu-xD1SKptO9QRbRaF-Lo0hfhogobsZW0PM6yvAadpeR79m2lhAv1sX6n_j1H5zEXXt1xPOo1KapKFi94LEbE/s1600/marathon+015+farm+track.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk9NbJyVKJR3YKfCEEMRn7DVergmMaPxgfUHAleOkT4YBA4T6Ew19sxRMwJVFZr69LZH8U_QTS_I67j18sJsZeqcrvD7Y5C0__1ZQMPGBLE7ybt5iZfDydGIj8LoTaoeiPVkmjyV9p96U/s1600/marathon+017+staintondale+station.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk9NbJyVKJR3YKfCEEMRn7DVergmMaPxgfUHAleOkT4YBA4T6Ew19sxRMwJVFZr69LZH8U_QTS_I67j18sJsZeqcrvD7Y5C0__1ZQMPGBLE7ybt5iZfDydGIj8LoTaoeiPVkmjyV9p96U/s1600/marathon+017+staintondale+station.jpg" height="189" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
The self same track that once
held the Ravenscar to Scarborough railway line, a section of the old coastal
railway that went from Scarborough, way up beyond Robin Hoods Bay, then Whitby, Runswick Bay and Staithes towards the industrial North East and ultimately Middlesbrough. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A casualty of the Beeching axe back in 1968,
this must have been one of <i>the</i> scenic railway journeys of the British Isles and
now remains a simple byway for cyclists, walkers, trekkers and, of course,
occasionally runners.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVhNlH0P9H94QgiAQxa8s-yTDURaq1dBi5OFMp6R2lEmMcop2nUJzJUiRXz7qfsVyBzDk4lTAvrEFx5yCJYQfRNcxdTJqi7o9HczKTnyqIX0wo_XM3sR9tXFtdkMURaSnXY6ftsPODR4w/s1600/marathon+019+hayburn+check.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVhNlH0P9H94QgiAQxa8s-yTDURaq1dBi5OFMp6R2lEmMcop2nUJzJUiRXz7qfsVyBzDk4lTAvrEFx5yCJYQfRNcxdTJqi7o9HczKTnyqIX0wo_XM3sR9tXFtdkMURaSnXY6ftsPODR4w/s1600/marathon+019+hayburn+check.jpg" height="196" width="320" /></a></div>
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Just over 6 miles into the trip, we turned smartly eastwards
and coast-wards again at Cloughton, the tarmac path seemingly winding down
straight into the sea! However, just prior to a soaking, the route switched
back north onto the grassy Cleveland Way coastal path and the northbound return
to Ravenscar.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXapiyqo7f2xGUoWuJOsoB7kGhS4RDwz2JHUZeFlzxhaEg_AtreVQPJVyKFJIifL7augHleA7yLOB09fRSprvFuznUcig0mq56OXdyIZS8GvrRONEzYaSXl-jrj_iw5Vn38ALsqVLl3o4/s1600/marathon+020+cloughton+wyke.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXapiyqo7f2xGUoWuJOsoB7kGhS4RDwz2JHUZeFlzxhaEg_AtreVQPJVyKFJIifL7augHleA7yLOB09fRSprvFuznUcig0mq56OXdyIZS8GvrRONEzYaSXl-jrj_iw5Vn38ALsqVLl3o4/s1600/marathon+020+cloughton+wyke.jpg" height="217" width="320" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFemPe4izf941mQKsvobLFzvE9YhH-s_hrl9NpnxyWZcb-xZaoASUNLvVuPn2XUOZ9FTSSxHYQpNzSuVLQRC1jcsZrYVCpY-cWhxi0qfPQTlpkrxSDew2L8Ndf_enRn6F3U5uHJ5BIJj0/s1600/marathon+021+cloughton2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFemPe4izf941mQKsvobLFzvE9YhH-s_hrl9NpnxyWZcb-xZaoASUNLvVuPn2XUOZ9FTSSxHYQpNzSuVLQRC1jcsZrYVCpY-cWhxi0qfPQTlpkrxSDew2L8Ndf_enRn6F3U5uHJ5BIJj0/s1600/marathon+021+cloughton2.jpg" height="164" width="320" /></a></div>
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Rejoining it at Cloughton Wyke, the big dipping Cleveland
Way is no country stroll, an immediate drop almost down to the stoney beach is immediately followed by<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>the first climb of stone stairs then steep
sloping fields then more inclines then more fields before the drop through the
woodland down into Hayburn Wyke and the inevitable climb back out.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGpKafaslIJxYTSZVWYY0vgvOMJ0djOUrbiu0mi-fM2CxQ26MPEIFZG5f22SfM1Zh3IO-pDVuHD5_fxXLpd5EOXRjNVNNfoNw0NuGAmx5ie56t8wi576xkFhOYxicAaKg5EpBV2emgMbs/s1600/marathon+026+hayburn+woods.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGpKafaslIJxYTSZVWYY0vgvOMJ0djOUrbiu0mi-fM2CxQ26MPEIFZG5f22SfM1Zh3IO-pDVuHD5_fxXLpd5EOXRjNVNNfoNw0NuGAmx5ie56t8wi576xkFhOYxicAaKg5EpBV2emgMbs/s1600/marathon+026+hayburn+woods.jpg" height="176" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br />
A tough climb
out inevitably means bunching on the steps but it did give a chance for a
breather accompanied by the classical well used hands on hips posing!<br />
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The final biggy is the long slope up to the Petard Point
return checkpoint prior to the trot back towards Ravenscar Tea room. The day then
clouded over and, coupled with the flatter, cooler section of field side- cliff-side pathway, this provided a much welcome respite from the undulations
and slippery cut grass of the previous few miles. </div>
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However, I much preferred this to the last half mile or so
of tarmac; joining the lane at the tearoom then back through the village, left
up the hill and finally left again along the lane back to the village hall and
a round of applause by the gathered half dozen or so supporters and organisers milling
around the lane – the crew from the SRMRT - and we've finished.Done it! Got around in 2.25 and thoroughly enjoyed this
outing – as I do every time I visit these hills; all the better for the
scalding tea and swiss rolls to be found on the table at the end. The conclusion reached by M at the end was that this was harder than Paris. Of course it was. These challenge events always are.<br />
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(The trick is
then to head over to Whitby leisure center, shower for £1.30 and even get your
parking money refunded before the inevitable Whitby Cod dish for replenishing
the reserves).</div>
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Many thanks again to all at SRMRT for a brilliant event ….
See you all again at the Saltergate later in the year.</div>
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Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07573531759334080565noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8223836520212907820.post-72459990295356349802014-03-18T13:32:00.000+00:002014-03-24T16:17:14.451+00:00Wuthering Hike - 15th March 2014<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
This is it ... the first ultra of the 2014 Runfurther Series: The 32 mile Wuthering Hike / Haworth Hobble, 4400 feet of climbing and clambering about in the Calderdale Pennines, and a cool windy 8.00am start from the cobbles of the village of Haworth; my first big test of the year. <br />
<br />
Much later in the afternoon, however, sitting cramped amongst fellow competitors at the end of my 6th Hike, in the Haworth Primary School, with a scalding cup of tea in front of me and with a spoonful of hot vegetables and a crusty chunk of bread poised in mid air I froze stock still.<br />
<br />
"The winner with a time of 4:04, Kim Collison from Borrowdale!".<br />
<br />
Amongst a ripple of applause through the hall and warm murmurs of both appreciation and approbation, the athlete collected his booty and returned from the prize desk. "Second place ..." said Brett but there was an inevitability amongst the names ... Adam Perry, followed by Ian Symmington, now sporting the red and white hooped vest of Calder Valley and the last name I heard ... Kevin Perry in the M50 category - and my category - with a time of 4.44. How can this be? what relevance have I to this group of key players in the discipline? how can they run so quickly? ... yes, I'll go and get mi coat.<br />
<br />
Pah! makes my 6.27 look ... well, ya know.<br />
<br />
However, I finished and in one piece too, enjoyed it all immensely as usual and it all started so well, with the annual chance for a breather in the very orderly queue at Bronte Bridge ...<br />
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followed by the equally predictable screamer of a head wind all the way up to Top Withens and beyond, where the snake of runners disappeared.<br />
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The not wholly welcome sight of a stone flagged descent at t'other side of th`Heights proved the difference from last year. I previously enjoyed this headlong pell mell down to the reservoir path: A technical challenge at any speed but alas now no more an obstacle and very sadly missed I suspect it will be, by all of us.<br />
<br />
On the climb up the path towards Top Withens, I'd received a tap on the shoulder from a business colleague - Lee Wallhead - who surprised me by turning out in these parts, on a training outing for his next event - the Battle of little Migjorn - the Mallorcan triathlon in May. Fit lad is Lee and it would prove a good challenge for me to keep him in view as long as possible - could I beat him to the finish?<br />
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Having just had a soaking due to the tide being in at Widdop Reservoir again, I safely packed the camera away and ground out the next few miles.<br />
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It took a big effort to keep driving into the wind and my expression didn't change for the next hour or so ...<br />
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Until the relative calm of the other side along the Cant Clough reservoir wall ...<br />
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and then the well received tail wind sent us back east towards Stoney Lane ...<br />
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<br />
and the long, long steady winding descent into Calderdale. Nice and muddy at Stiperden Farm ... nothing changes here!.<br />
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<br />
and the first sighting of Stoodley Pike ...<br />
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<br />
... where I took this picture of a competitor taking a video recording of Wendy Dodds, in the vanguard of our group, running down the flags.<br />
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Just after the steps away from the church, down from the golf course, a competitor had a bad fall and appeared to be at the end of his event? Leg injury / ankle problem ? probable sprain? hopefully not worse ... I have to be at my most attentive during these twists and turns - that could easily have been me. Best Wishes whoever you are and I hope it isn't that serious.<br />
<br />
Cant avoid the climb of the grass bank up to the Mankinholes Checkpoint but made it up in one go and was delighted to catch sight of my target once again taking refreshment with Andy and Stef at the checkpoint. Sorry I never said hello Andy, I travelled straight through having called out my number as it was probably my best and only chance of pressing on for a decent time. <br />
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<br />
A quick hello to Steve Foster on his way down from the Pike with a pair of fine Patterdales - thanks for the encouragement Steve, yes it was a wind helping us up!. It goes without saying here that all our thoughts are with ya Steve for your tougher battle away from the hills ... it will be good to see you back out here with us all. Very best wishes during this, very difficult, time.<br />
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My stop for Ibuprofen's in the lee of the hurricane atop the Pike gave Lee his chance to take the lead; one he wouldn't relinquish although I did give it my best shot for the rest of the round. It generally takes about 15 minutes for the pain killers to take effect on mi owd knees and so I had the chance to briefly say hello to Mick Bull - bronchitis had sidelined him this year and well wrapped up he was to brave the elements on a walk up to Lumbutts.<br />
<br />
My plan, once through Heptonstall, was to keep a steady pace and run the flats and downs where at all possible and it worked quite well. Back out into the wide open spaces, and with the field well strung out I managed to grind on up to the Top o` the Stairs and then finally the welcome view of Leeshaw Reservoir signalled the end was nigh.<br />
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Thoughts trotting back around Penistone Hill and back through the Churchyard into Haworth:<br />
<br />
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li>A gel every 5 miles meant a much improved fueling strategy and kept the nausea at bay all day</li>
<li>Nuun tablets - as ever - kept the cramps at bay</li>
<li>Lack of general hill climbing ability kept a sub 6 hour finish at bay.</li>
<li>Post electric cardioversion to correct an irregular heartbeat in February, running with the heart rate monitor is a good guide to performance and potential. Also tells me I need to get stronger!.</li>
</ul>
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Incidentally, I never did catch Lee, he managed a creditable 6.22 on his first outing here and pipped me by a full 5 minutes - never in doubt, I'll await him getting into the M50 category for another pop!.</div>
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As ever, many thanks to Brett and all the team at KCAC and Runfurther for a lovely day out in them there hills. Hopefully I'll be wheezing around again next year?</div>
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Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07573531759334080565noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8223836520212907820.post-66230485114160748802014-03-10T15:53:00.000+00:002014-03-11T16:51:23.075+00:00Falcon Flyer - 8th March 2014<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Spring has Sprung! ... Or it would do tomorrow morning however one of the final flings of winter saw us running out of Ravenscar, up eastwards into the teeth of such a breeze that slapped our faces that I never thought I'd make it to the top of the lane, just after 9.00am on this, my third Falcon Flyer, let alone get around the Long Course of the North Yorkshire Moors, in a half decent time.<br />
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<br />
Huddled in the Ravenscar Village Hall, everyone appeared reluctant to brave the elements on this surprisingly cold morning; perhaps its not just me ... inland dwelling southern softie that I am. After what seemed like an age, through a winter devoid of any racing, I was finally pleased to be back out in the hills.<br />
<br />
Pep talk at the start ... " 135 entrants and only 113 Pies, so if you want one ....." you know the rest, and we were away.<br />
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<br />
Following a recent electronic heart cardioversion to correct an irregular heartbeat, I was advised to run a controlled race: Not my usual fly off and suffer for the art afterwards, and so decided to run purely with the heart rate monitor - keep it above 150 but just under the lactate threshold of 160. I managed to keep it roughly steady at a reading of 159 all morning: There's more to this style of running ...<br />
<br />
Thankfully away from civilisation, and through the boggy fields towards the woods, a south turn removed us from one hazard - Wind, into another; a selection of felled trees which barred our way towards the road crossing. I for one was pleased to get through this tricky section of soggy grass of the Pye Rigg footpath, over the A171 and then away down towards Cowgate Rigg and the tracks towards Harwood Dale.<br />
<br />
It never gets easier towards the bottom around here ...<br />
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<br />
and after a few near misses, I took the right and left turns though the fields towards Lownorth Bridge and the friendly faces there stationed!<br />
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<br />
The middle section is an uphill fag, remaining mentally tough when alone just to keep an even pace going. Initially on a metaled lane, this would open onto a stoney by-lane and eventually open fields and ultimately the moorlands passed Brown Hill and onwards to the turn point at Burn Howe Duck Pond atop the Moors on the Lyke Wake pathway.<br />
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<br />
Last year this was a stream of frozen slush but today it was relatively steady underfoot and I was pleased to make the turn unscathed and then head back westwards towards Jugger Ravine and the checkpoint on the A171. This would later be the scene of a real time rescue carried out by the team when a walker with a leg injury needed a recovery. Never was the cause more highlighted by the lonely, isolated station in which the casualty found herself and never has the professionalism been demonstrated more clearly than by the way the situation was handled from start to finish by the team whilst simultaneously marshaling their very own challenge event.<br />
<br />
Congratulations to the team at <a href="http://www.srmrt.org.uk/news/challenge-turns-real/">SRMRT</a> .<br />
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<br />
Luckily for me, and the surrounding pack of runners, all this took place behind us and with the path towards Jugger Howe disappearing upwards into the distance, the third and final technical section was upon us.<br />
<br />
I had thought of trying a new route to Colcroft Farm but stuck with the traditional route around Cook House and down the fields passed Spring Hill Farm but, once passed this checkpoint, I became <i>un</i>stuck on the climb towards Park Wall.<br />
<br />
Not only is <a href="http://hardmoors110.org.uk/cms/?q=node/10">Jon Steele</a> a good friend and serious ultra runner, but also a glutton for punishment as he ran back down this hill to greet us before disappearing off up again, having lost his way! The cattle had recently been along these parts and the deep mud started to become a drag on my engine and I struggled and slowed here; losing my running group in the process.<br />
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<br />
However, sticking to my principle of a gel every five miles, keeping hydrated and more importantly, running to the heart rate monitor, I soldiered on and gradually regained my composure. So much so that I drifted through the checkpoint at Boggle Hole and trotted down to the beach in good order.<br />
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<br />
From here its just upwards: A small all too brief flat section, upwards some more, a gradual climb upwards to the old railway track and then upwards to the finish, up at the top of the village of Ravenscar.<br />
<br />
The mind games start again and finish right here.<br />
<br />
3.26 on the clock and the climb, now at walking pace, had my heart rate monitor singing at 160 before the final check and then the relatively steady slope of the old railway. I just decided to grind out a run, however slow and however pathetic it looked; and it looked both. A couple of walkers asked if I was enjoying this run and I apologise now for ignoring you - a real case of head down stuff.<br />
<br />
The final ignominy being met by the right turn into the village, adjacent to the church. Just as I was planning to run strongly for the finish, a gust of wind, so hard, rocked me backwards down the hill and I had all to stay upright. Determined to secure a strong finish I opened the village hall door and signed in with 3.43 on the clock and slumped into the chair with a mug of tea. 5 minutes better than my previous time around the Long Route - very happy indeed with that and 13th overall on the day.<br />
<br />
Once more I had a blast from start to finish and many thanks once again to the <a href="http://www.srmrt.org.uk/">mountain rescue team</a> of Scarborough and Ryedale for keeping us safe today, and all days, around these North Yorkshire Moors. It is much appreciated.<br />
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Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07573531759334080565noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8223836520212907820.post-57046670246557854342014-02-20T12:02:00.000+00:002014-03-05T12:54:35.919+00:00Atrial Fibrillation - A personal discovery with a shocking treatment<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<b>Atrial Fibrillation Association, Tuesday 14 January 2014, UK:</b><br />
<br />
Across the
UK incidents of the serious heart condition, atrial fibrillation, have
increased by just over 20% in the last five years. By the age of 40
each person has a 25% chance of developing the serious heart condition,
atrial fibrillation. Having this condition increases a person’s risk of
an AF-related stroke by up to 500%. However, too often AF is not
detected and for many it isn’t until a person suffers a catastrophic
stroke that AF is diagnosed.<br />
<br />
Good then that my strangely high heart rate was picked up during a lactate threshold test and the causative AF was confirmed by my GP shortly afterwards and not alternatively at a postmortem ...<br />
<br />
However, here I find myself on Valentines Day ...<br />
<br />
<b>Friday 14th February 1.30pm </b><br />
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<br />
<br />
... On the second floor of the Bassetlaw Hospital in Worksop, lying in bed 1, in the Coronary Care Unit, 4 months after my 50th birthday. With over 15 ultra-marathons under my belt in the last few years along with numerous shorter outings out in the hills of Northern England in all weathers, I never expected to find myself here.<br />
<br />
The cause of AF is not fully understood and can happen at any stage, apart from increasing in frequency with aging however I hope my AF has developed for no explainable reason - and that I have what is known as "Lone AF".<br />
<br />
One good outcome from this experience was a full heart MOT involving an echo cardiogram where I listened to my own heart beat and valves working, chest x-rays and several comprehensive blood tests, all allowing me to collect a clean bill of general health and - as I was informed - become a prime candidate for an Electrical Cardioversion with every chance of success and the reversion to the sinus rhythm of a normal heart beat.<br />
<br />
Whats one of those I asked? This was the response I got:<br />
<br />
Cardioversion is the conversion of the heart rhythm from Atrial Fibrillation (or Atrial Flutter) to the normal rhythm, known as sinus rhythm, electrical cardioversion is also known as Direct Current Cardioversion (DCCV). Electrical Cardioversion !! This may sound terrifying, but it is very simple in principle and is a highly effective treatment in carefully chosen patients. The idea is to use an electric shock to activate the whole heart at once. This prevents the perpetuation of Atrial Fibrillation. After the shock the normal heart<br />
beat (sinus rhythm) will be able to emerge.The cardioversion itself involves linking the patient to an ECG monitor which is connected to the cardioverter/defibrillator then the general anaesthetic is given. You are then thankfully asleep and so totally unconcerned about the procedure.<br />
<br />
Risks Involved:<br />
• Slow heart rhythm (bradycardia) – usually very transient and at most needing treatment with an intravenous medicine (Atropine) or a short period of pacing (electrical stimulation of the heart to initiate heart beats) for a short time.<br />
• Fast heart rhythm (such as ventricular tachycardia) which may need a follow-up shock before the patient regains consciousness.<br />
• Stroke, which is very unusual if the patient has been fully anti-coagulated before the procedure.<br />
• Skin burns or irritation from the electrodes (patches) - this is unusual with modern patch electrodes but can happen more frequently with older metal paddle electrodes.<br />
• Early reversion of the normal rhythm back to Atrial Fibrillation – this may require a further shock (when still under anaesthetic).<br />
• General anaesthetic risks – rare in normal sized people with no other medical problems.<br />
<br />
Electrode patches or plates are positioned on the back and front of the chest, or on the upper right and lower left of the chest. The cardioverter/defibrillator is charged and set to deliver a shock simultaneously with the next heart beat. Often the first shock is successful but sometimes several shocks at increasing energy levels or with different electrode patch positions is needed to convert the rhythm. The normal rhythm is restored in about 90% of patients, but a small proportion immediately return to Atrial Fibrillation. Over<br />
the next few days, 10% - 20% lapse back into the arrhythmia but this can be reduced when necessary by asking the patient to take an anti-arrhythmic drug. After the procedure the patient is awake<br />
within a minute or so and, although groggy for a while, quickly regains full control and will be ready to go home after a few hours.<br />
<br />
Simple Innit?<br />
<br />
And so it proved, as I was indeed fully sedated and so unaware of the business end of proceedings:<br />
<br />
Jolt 1 @ 100J of energy failed ...<br />
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<br />
However strike 2 @ 200J struck the home run ...<br />
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<br />
and I was back to a normal sinus rhythm.<br />
<br />
All the while, I was linked to various monitors which provided comfort that my blood pressure was OK<br />
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<br />
<br />
and the big screen confirmed this and the return of the sinus rhythm ...<br />
<br />
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<br />
Admitted in the hospital @ 1.45pm and then being driven home through the pouring rain, after getting the discharge @ 6.30pm that day, my thoughts included:<br />
<br />
Would this return to a sinus rhythm last a good while? - time will tell<br />
Would my general health improve? - by definition yes<br />
Would my running improve? - logically yes<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Sunday 16th February 11.30am</b><br />
<br />
<br />
Delighted to report that following a 15 mile long steady lope around the lanes of North Nottinghamshire all remained well with no sign of AF ... A steady heart rate of 124 along the lanes, rising to 133 on the steady inclines then back down. Sitting in the chair, late Sunday afternoon saw it back at a steady 51 and so fingers crossed that my visit to the Coronary Care Unit was a success.<br />
<br />
How long I remain clear of the AF is uncertain but it remains the shadow behind me, the gentle reminder that it's worth keeping focused on all health matters: I'm living, running and walking proof that all aint necessarily what it seems. But, my registrar seemed OK to sign my Certificate for a French marathon later in the spring ... for a small Fee of course.<br />
<br />
Hope to see everyone back out on the trails in March? Falcon Flyer, Wuthering Hike anyone?<br />
<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07573531759334080565noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8223836520212907820.post-5543475904962469472013-09-26T12:53:00.002+01:002013-09-27T14:48:43.814+01:00A Reconnaissance of the French Riviera Marathon ... and then my very own England v Germany<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"The Riviera ..., on every street a gay casino, where continentals sip their vino .... and leave their fortunes to chance</blockquote>
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The Riviera ..., where matrons draped in Paris fashion,</div>
Prolong the twilight of their passions,<br />
in mad pursuit of romance!."</div>
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Who sang that? ... answer at the end.</div>
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The annual holiday migration of a thousand miles south from the normally slate grey northern English skies and accompanying brown seas down to the blue of the Cote D`Azur gave an opportunity to check out the course for the Nice to Cannes French Riviera Marathon later in November when, hopefully, it will be a little cooler than the 32 degrees we arrived into mid August.<br />
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Kicking off from the far end of the the Promenade des Anglais in Nice, all along the shore and the big sweep of the Baie Des Anges on the left, passing the grand art deco Hotel Negressco on the right and then down passed the Airport, I realised that you can probably see the first 20 miles of this marathon laid out before your eyes? Not sure that'll be a good thing on the day but with the course running as flat as an iron, it'll be all about clever pacing to try and break the monotony of the trip. And of course looking good whilst doing it!. Although not terribly convinced that a Lyke Wake Race shirt is relevant to this trip.<br />
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Apart from the sea being a constant companion on the left, the route winds through the vacation resorts of Saint-Laurent-Du-Var with its huge wave shaped hotels, Cagnes-sur-Mer, Villeneuve-Loubet, Antibes, and then along the Bay of La Napoule before the rounding of the Cap d`Antibes and finally Juan-Les-Pins, Vallauris, Golfe-Juan and the scamper along the Boulevard du Littoral, passing around the Pointe Croisette and the final finishing strait along the Boulevard de la Croisette and the flash bulbs in front of the swanky Hotel Carlton.</div>
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On an incredibly hot afternoon, the temperature really did climb as we completed the last six or seven miles and the route was jammed with holidaymakers, as expected in August: This heat really was a problem. It's a bugger when it takes you 20 odd miles in a hire car before you discover how to locate and work the air conditioning controls and take control of the environment but at least we now know the way.<br />
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Our base for warm weather training was the tiny area of Le Royal - Canadel and Cavaliere around Cap Negre in the commune of Var on the coast, just a little way further round from the cape of St Tropez.<br />
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Made famous over 100 years ago by Sir Henry Royce who had a house built - La Villa Mimosa - in Canadel to convalesce and escape the English winter, this section of coastline remains very unspoilt and contains many perfectly undulating lanes and paths which hug the quiet coastline - invaluable experience for running in the main event in just a few months time.<br />
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Royce was a man who, having survived what many thought would be a terminal illness, continued to live by the motto "Whatever is rightly done, however humble, is noble" and on that basis I really did get some value runs in ... this wasn't just a holiday even though the days runs were dissected each evening over such local dishes as La Bourride, Une Blanquette de Poisson, Pave de Saumon and of course the Bouillabaisse ...<br />
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Selectively washed down with an occasional Chateau Minuty or a fine Magali, but these were rare digressions from the serious business to hand: the legwork.<br />
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The chosen training route followed the coast track from Cavaliere to Le Lavandou passing many secluded beached coves and villages along the way:<br />
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... and very rewarding it proved.<br />
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The track itself followed the bed of the old railway line but unlike its UK ex railway line from Whitby to Scarborough via Robin Hoods Bay, this one was smooth tarmac and is a dedicated cycle / walking / running pathway - views out to sea on the left and steep woodland hillsides to the right.<br />
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La Fossette being typical of the five or six coves passed during an out and back 15K<br />
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And so on to England V Germany ...<br />
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The early morning regular 10k and 15k outings for Lady M and I were accompanied by several local residents along with a few holiday runners who were also taking the opportunity to get some training in ... a young German couple had become part of the regular group covering these routes; having all the kit and wearing Garmins, they were clearly the most serious.<br />
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On the final early morning run I went out alone ... a reasonably paced 10K for me and on my return just prior to the hill ascent, the dimly lit tunnel and then the big downer back into the village I saw him. My German colleague, also alone, completing a set of hill reps. He was at the foot of the hill setting his watch for the return and he turned, saw me and smiled. And waited. Being the older runner by about 15 years enabled me to put my experience, and gamesmanship, to good use during the next 10 minutes and so as I approached the hill, slightly increasing both cadence and tempo, I was ready. The German timing watch was clicked and with a nod of recognition we both climbed the hill together on our final holiday outing back towards Cavaliere.<br />
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On the outward journey, about half an hour earlier, I remembered seeing an elderly man at the top of the hill sweeping pine needles and other leaves into a sizable pile onto the side of the track. As we approached the crest this would be just around the left hand bend prior to the tunnel entrance and so I eased to the right of the path allowing my opponent the inside left line should he wish to try me at this point. he covered me around the bend (thankfully not in the horse racing sense) and took the bait.<br />
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Hitting the now significant pile of leaves and the attendant sweeper he lost his footing and the lead and I swept into the tunnel with a cackle - a full 15 yards ahead and headed for home.<br />
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Being a younger man, quicker and obviously a road runner, he was soon on my shoulder as we emerged from the flat gloom of the tunnel into the blinding sunlight of a Provencal dawn and the downhill section to the village. This was the quickening: A perfectly still morning saw two runners, one in a red, black and gold vest framing the Imperial Eagle whilst the other sported a fluorescent orange Round Rotherham 50 2012 shirt, both hammering down the quiet path to the finish.<br />
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Road runner he may have been but he hadn't ever tried to climb Trenet bank after Chop Gate, nor has he climbed out of Crimsworth Dene in Calderdale nor even the pell mell of uneven ground after Stoodley Pike: there was only ever one winner and the old git had him by a full yard at the road junction. I held my hand up and he "high fived" me with a laugh and headed off. I "clutched the badge" in celebration and with the Garmin beeping away, wondering what on earth was happening, I was led to a chair in front of the Boulangerie by the proprietor who mistook all these gestures and beeps for a man in the early stages of heart trouble - especially now the colour of his face matched his shirt.<br />
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Sitting in the chair as the waves lapped the shore I basked in a rare success and watched the stir of the village. The sun climbed above the pine trees and shone down upon the sea, the white mica rich sand, on me and my chair; a chair that will now remain forever England. .... "Cry God for Harry ..."<br />
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The singer of that song? ... Blossom Dearie .. of course<br />
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Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07573531759334080565noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8223836520212907820.post-68705254438919733762013-07-29T10:58:00.000+01:002013-09-27T10:58:37.039+01:00Lyke Wake Race - 13th July 2013<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
"<i>Ower t' tops' </i>I know only one better kind of tramping: the quintessence of the art. For there are wilder moods, when ones` soul thirsts for the untrodden tops amid the whams and the hags and the rough wiry heather. Moods when nothing will satisfy one but to tramp due north or south, keeping to the crest of the ridge and taking everything that comes along in ones` stride". I Wish I'd written that. However, that extract from Striding Through Yorkshire by Alfred John Brown is, for me, a fitting and everlasting comment upon taking on the Lyke Wake Route.<br />
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Sitting high up in the packed, noisy bleaches at Trent Bridge on Friday afternoon; sun hat on, sun protection applied, a cool beer in hand and enjoying a tense 3rd day of England fighting towards their first win of a hopefully successful 2013 Ashes campaign, I suspected, correctly as it would prove, that the following day was also going to be a scorcher. That day just happened to be the 49th running of the Lyke Wake Race - the annual 40 odd mile running of the walkers` route from Osmotherley across the North Yorkshire Moors into the Ravenscar Hotel grounds on the cliffs high up on the southern tip of Robin Hoods Bay on the East Coast.<br />
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As the day wore on, i couldn't get the thought of the impending heat out of my mind and so swapped the beer for a pitcher of iced water for the remainder of the day and crossed my fingers. I really enjoyed the game, the hospitality, the camaraderie of a gang mentality all day and then pootled off home to prepare for a day of solitude.<br />
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...... Antiquity.</div>
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That was my overwhelming thought going into, during, and after this trail encounter. This is an old race. The walk is 58 years old this year and even the first race was won way back in 1964, but the route, the legend, the archaeology and the folklore all stretch away into the far history and it wasn't long into the event, following my 6.30am start, before certain way-markers and landscapes gave a glimpse of that past.<br />
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The first of the stone markers was positioned just in front of the memorial stone to Bill Cowley who devised and completed the first crossing of the Lyke Wake Wake on the 1st October 1955. A nice shaded part of the track this. Undulating and dappled, this part of the path swept us up and down gently through the woods of the early stages - Scarth Nick, Coalmire, down Scugdale, passed Hollin Hall and up towards Heathwaite and away into the moors.<br />
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Little now remains here of the small, possibly Bronze aged, Fort below Live Moor .... although the Lyke Wake actually dissects its eastern corner. That these earthworks date from back then is probably confirmed by the old track directly up to the cairn field on Live Moor above.<br />
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A glimpse back towards the low lying countryside, across Scugdale, to the plain of the Vale of York ...<br />
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... Before we turned north east: Up, up and away into the purple upper heath-lands of the Cleveland Way ... and all along the trackway towards the first peak of Carlton Bank where further stone sign posts guided us on our way.<br />
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"Slippery when wet" - these track slabs, laid in the 1990s` have helped prevent further erosion, and widening, of the path and resemble the old pannier trackways used by pack-horses and merchants of old.<br />
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Turning gently east of north east, the distant Roseberry Topping was framed nicely by the stones and trig point atop Carlton Bank Top. That landmark, however, is for another day and another race - take your pic of the Hardmoor Ultra series - coming shortly here - for further information on the history of "Odinsberg".<br />
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Back to the Lyke Wake and with an hour gone, the sun warming nicely through checkpoint 1 at Carlton Bank and then around the waist of Cringle Moor, it was timely to hit the dapple of the fir woodland path neath the Wain Stones.<br />
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The last respite from the sun that we'd receive all day: Up through Hasty Bank and over Urra Moor the path that joins the cinder track of the old railway at Bloworth is now a big exposed trek all the way to the Lion Inn at Blakey Ridge - some 18 odd miles (and well over 2 and 3/4 hours) into the event.<br />
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To the right of the track ... Farndale heads away to the south<br />
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and the Esk Valley Walk away northwards to our left ...<br />
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But for me, the mental challenge lies in running a 10k ish distance along this straight cinder track of the old ironstone mine railway.</div>
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Opening between 1858 and 1868, the Rosedale Railway came from Battersby Junction, up the rope - worked Ingleby Incline of a 1 in 5 before traveling the 10 miles to Rosedale - East and West via Blakey Junction. In its pomp of 1873, these lonely lines hauled over 500,000 tons of ironstone via steam engine before their eventual closure in 1928 and the final lowering down the hill of the locos in 1929. I thought of these facts and the workers in these extreme locations as a means of diverting my mind from the heat and hardship of trying to keep a steady pace going; aiming for the Lion and a first chance of a change of shirt and refreshments.<br />
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Refreshed, refuelled, recovered and revitalised, I decided to stay on the tarmac road around the head of Rosedale before the big final left and eastward turn onto the moors. Turning right off the Egton road, the top of Ralphs Cross nicked the horizon and I soon passed Fat Betty on my left hand side but more about the Moorland Crosses (well one in particular) later ...<br />
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A glance over my shoulder to the distant Lion on the far ridge at Blakey ...<br />
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and then onward, passing the new direction marker ...<br />
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and finally, and with much anticipation of what would lie ahead, onto the wild moorland.<br />
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In my few years of this race, I had never seen such cotton blooms. Every previous watercourse was now dry and drifted in white almost like snow - an absolute privilege to be up there on such a day. Bogs there were - of course, there always are - but these drifts of cotton remained with us along the tops for the rest of the day and they were spectacular.<br />
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In the September of 1917, Frank Elgee, a prolific writer and diarist of these moors, its history, people and archeology took a walk and observed:</div>
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"You have been urged upwards by that love for summits which is the mountaineers` joy. Suddenly you overtop the last rise, to behold a vast expanse of elevated moorland ... This moorland resembles nothing so much as a heaving sea, wave behind wave, swell merging into swell, hollow into hollow. Every moment you expect the crests to break into foam. Instead, shafts of silvery sunlight shoot down from behind the clouds, to reveal the blended greys, greens and reds of variegated vegetation. The light withdraws, and once more the moorland becomes sea - a strange immovable sea whose mountain-high waves have ceased to surge forward ... so that puny man might wonder and admire, generation after generation"</div>
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Like Elgee, my feelings for these moors are intense and I too cant get close enough. Later, in 1927 he added, following a paved way:</div>
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"The footsteps of the generations have worn deep hollows in the stones. Reverently I add mine to those of pannier man, farmer, forester, man-at-arms, esquire, knight, baron, the medieval iron-workers, and all the motley throng, less enduring than the stones on which they rudely tramp"</div>
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Around the left of Shunner Howe, the old knocked about Barrow, signaled the end of the boggy section and just prior to the Hamer Road clip point I happened across an old mill stone, flat on its` back at the side of the track with. amongst other indeterminate scribblings, the date 1774 roughly etched on the surface, reminding me that this quiet moorland spot was not always so.<br />
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Little, if anything, now remains of Hamer House: Over the years, the stones of these old buildings have been removed and the moorland now remains un-silhouetted however back in the 1800`s when Lime was transported north onto the acidic farmlands of Eskdale from the south of Rosedale and coal was mined near Egton and taken south to fire those self same kilns, this road was a hive. </div>
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On the west side of the now by-road, just to the south of the checkpoint, lie the ruins of Hamer House: Famously, in a previous life - The Letterboard Inn -, an alehouse catering for the throng of passing traffic of both leisure and commerce. Back in the 19th century, this would be buzzing with life. Steaming dray shires attached to carriages and chaises would stamp impatiently in the yard and workers of every kind would be found inside. Even the great Whitby whaling Captain - William Scoresby - would be a passer by on this busy old road from his home in Cropton to board the Resolution in Whitby and head into the frozen north, famously inventing the Crows Nest and capturing 533 whales in 30 voyages - more than any other European whaler. </div>
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All now long, long ago. The Lime industry eventually died away, and with it the passing traffic, and the Letterboard Inn reverted back to a residence whose last residents - the Boddy family left in the 1930s. Earlier occupants included a large family who traded in Besoms which were dispatched from Lealholm railway station. This family numbered 12 children and a dog named Meg who, when commanded "Go fetch them Meg" would round up the brood and who, more importantly, when given a red handkerchief, always from the same drawer, would round up the husband when he saw the red `kerchief tied around the dogs neck!</div>
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Digressing. Ever onwards and eastwards, the track prior to the Blue Man i` The Moss was bone dry. No sign of any of the streams or rivulets of previous crossings and quite technically difficult to keep an even pace going between here and the Stape Road checkpoint.<br />
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Following a water stop at Stape - I could no longer hold food down - heading down, and across, the field on the track down to Wheeldale Beck, the sudden undulations underfoot confirmed I was trotting over Wades Causeway.<br />
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One of the best preserved, and exposed Roman Roads, in the country, Wades`heads up from the south - from Amotherby on the Malton to Hovingham road - towards Goldsborough and its` old signal station on the coast above Sandsend. The track is named after Wade - a powerful Saxon chief who lived at Mulgrave - and is likely to have provided the link between the Roman Forts of Cawthorn and Lease Rigg up near the River Esk. These Forts, built around 80 AD, were advanced up in the moors probably for no other reason than to station troops evacuated south from Scotland. What now remains is actually the foundations of the road and not its surface. Whilst Roman roads would have been uncomfortable to pass along they would not have been as bumpy as the track here at Wheeldale suggests.<br />
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Below the field and the climb down to the bottom of the hill, I grabbed the chance to sit in Wheeldale Beck in order cool my body temperature down before the final fag up towards Simon Howe, the cross over of the North Yorkshire Moors Railway and the penultimate checkpoint at Ellerbeck on the A169 Whitby - Pickering Road.<br />
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Leaving Ellerbeck and crossing the busy A169 Pickering to Whitby road, my tanks were empty, my throat was dry, I was sick (literally) of the heat and needed to grind a run / jog / walk towards the finish but blistered feet put paid to any real pace so it was now a desperate shamble to the finish. Overtaken by several runners on this stretch I happened across Russell Webster on his first crossing on Race day and we made a pair towards the end of the race: He with fatigued muscles and cramps and me with bleeding feet.<br />
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After leaving Ellerbeck, at the top of the first hill we reached, the old Staincrossgate road from Scarborough to Durham crossed our path, little sign of which now remains, but we did have our first view of the sea. </div>
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Standing by this junction of this North / South old way and the Lyke Wake track is possibly the oldest cross on these moors, and probably the oldest Christian symbol in the north of England - Lilla Cross.</div>
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Erected in 625AD, Lilla Cross marks the grave of Lilla, a chief minister of King Edwin of Deira, an ancient wolds based kingdom. It is reputed that Lilla flung himself between the King and a would be assassin, dying upon the blade of a double edged poison dagger for his services. </div>
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Most of these numerous Moorland Crosses were erected as waymarkers and boundary markers but crosses were conveniently used to remind the populace of Christ. In a treatise on the ten commandments entitled "Dives et Pauper" printed at Westminster by Wynken de Worde in 1496, the reason for the erection of these roadside crosses is ... "For this reason ben crosses by ye waye that when folke passynge see the crosses they sholde thynke on Hym that deyed on the crosse, and worshyppe Hym above all thynge"</div>
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The day drew on into a hot afternoon and so no further lingering time left to do anything other than hit the dusty path to Jugger. It remained difficult for me to run so, on the pretence of taking another drink, I left Russell to stride on ahead with the purpose of a veteran.</div>
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Facing the Wall beyond Jugger ravine would be the final fag and once over that we were near the end of it ..</div>
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As happened last year, the sea fret blew in towards the radio mast on the crest of the hill overlooking Robin Hoods Bay and so once again I was foiled in capturing a picture of <i>that</i> view. Amazingly, we had no clouds all day and yet were to finish in a fog.<br />
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We duly trotted down the lane towards the Raven Hall Hotel, around 4.20pm in the afternoon, and were warmly applauded in by family, friends, marshals and day trippers who must have wondered what on earth we were up to. Whatever it was we were both up to we had both just finished it.<br />
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Race details of my day: <br />
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Again a problem for me in the heat - hottest day of the year so far and I struggled all day with the conditions. I could have easily handed in my number at any of the last three checkpoints but gritting it out is what these events are all about. I need to think about nutrition - one of my weaknesses, I may try a more supportive shoe next time and I may carry less "stuff" with me. Will there be a next time? <br />
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Of course. So many friends and fellow runners make this a great day out in my favourite part of the country. The team who run this always ensure we have a bagful of memories to take with us so congratulations to Paul Sherwood and his team and to all the competitors on the day. Thanks for saying hello and I look forward to it all again. Oh, 9.53 if anyone asks ... but whisper it. </div>
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To conclude, I'll revert back to Alfred John Brown and his "Striding through Yorkshire"</div>
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"In an age that craves and discovers more and more fantastic sports, it is astounding that so few people know the thrill of crossing a moor from end to end in a direct line without any sort of guide. Yet, given the right kind of day, it is to be doubted whether there is any sport in the world to vie with it ..... the sustained lyrical thrill; the joy of free movement; the bluff assault and repulse of the wind; the feeling of fighting ones` way forward in the teeth of the elements, of contesting every yard of the way, of being beaten back and still struggling on".</div>
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Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07573531759334080565noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8223836520212907820.post-6475726656430118022013-06-12T07:31:00.002+01:002013-06-15T06:32:48.698+01:00Swaledale Marathon - 8th June 2013<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Richard Elliott and I discussed last years event as we milled around in the field prior to the bell being rung for the off on this, another potentially cloudless, blue, Swaledale morning. We spoke of a good deal more as well: About preparation, training, the benefit of cycling and other disciplines being thrown into the mix and of long runs and the isolation of training long and alone which, I discovered, is common to us both. What would prove to be uncommon to this tickhill pairing was the level of improvement one of us would exhibit today.<br />
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A transformed man stood before me with a glint of aspiration and steel that confirmed his sub 4 hour finish target was well within reach. He'd put in the effort, lost a lot of weight and was ready to go - all I could offer was for him to aim for the Gunnerside checkpoint in 2.30 ish and he`d be fine. <br />
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At 9.30am, the bell duly tolled and as we climbed the stoney path upwards towards Fremington Edge, Richard left me in the midst of the mid packers and I knew I wouldn't see him again today. He got to Gunnerside within the time we discussed, and made a 3.46 - and a 30th place finish - knocking an hour of his time last year. Enough said: A job very well done.<br />
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It's Important that I get that bit in first. This is a race, and credit must be paid where it's due. It must also be paid to the rest of my Tickhill club colleagues who got round a gruelling course and some not without incident but all picked up mugs and certificates to remind them of this day. The first time around this beautiful course, for certain Tickhill Ladies and Gentlemen; - now, how many will return? It can take a few days of post-race recovery to put all the effort into perspective. This is a wild course in wild country and it does take a lot out of every participant - no road run this, and when the sun pours out of a big sky and the bogs beyond Punchard pull ya down then its not for the faint heart: Self determination and drive comes to the fore and its a battle, mostly with yourself, as to how the day will out. Get the hydration wrong, the fuelling wrong and a bit of indifferent navigation and it`s a long, long time and a long way back to Reeth.<br />
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I always bring along a camera - taking every opportunity to stand and stare - but also to try and capture the views which, on this course remain stunning all day. From the climb up to the edge, looking over Reeth ....<br />
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along the edge and then over the crest and down towards Langthwaite ...<br />
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and that was before we saw a new, rare breed of long necked Arkengarthdale Sheep watching proceedings down in the valley bottom prior to the turn right, over the Tan Hill road and into the wilderness.<br />
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However, back between checkpoint 1 and 2, I spent a pleasant recovery period catching up with my old friend Fred Clapham of Ripon Road Runners. A veteran of this event, and with a couple of sub 4 hour finishes in the bag, he was awaiting an MRI scan on an injured hip and consequently was measuring a steady approach to todays run. As I have to jog to keep up with his walk then I hoped to keep him in sight. A forlorn hope and he soon gave me the slip for an hour or so when the climbs returned. Only then did I join up with Gerry Orchard - of Osmotherley Phoenix fame - on the rocky by-way up to Punchard Head and we covered all topics related to Northern off road running - especially related to events and other challenges faced across the Vale of York on the North Yorkshire Moors but those tales are for another day ... perhaps ...<br />
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Finally through the Punchard Head clip and a breather ...<br />
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... of sorts before I, foolishly, played "follow my leader" down, following the heels of the runner in front, with a chest heaving with effort, ever down and off the best line and into a world of trouble and effort. <br />
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Floundering around in a boggy section whilst looking upwards towards runners on the skyline, correctly heading away into the distance does nothing for self confidence and it was a shattering period for me to get back to where I should have been. A bit of recrimination followed within the pack: "What are you all doing down there?" "Following him!" that sort of heated debate, but peace soon returned and we headed back up to rejoin the route. <br />
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No place to have to put all that toil into the event and I suffered dreadfully to get towards Friarfold in any sort of order - it was a shambles and I kicked my heels along the way, stumbling with fatigue on the uneven ground before the hard rakes finally gave a firm footing and a chance to regain a little composure - and time.<br />
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Having wolfed a pair of Jam sandwiches on the hoof with all the dignity of a starving man, and thanked once again the marshalls and support crews at Level House for their attentions, we were away again up the track towards the Gill of Gunnerside and the start of the turn home.<br />
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These Old Gang Mine working spoils are the remanants of both open cut and hushing mineral extractions of centuries passed. Where vertical veins of ores were scrubbed off or washed off the surface exposures prior to the removal down into the dale bottoms. That history too is for another post: Today, the rakes give another firm footpath prior to the green sweeping track down into Gunnerside and a chance for a downhill section prior to the return to civilisation ...<br />
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... and, following on from the bleached, white-out stones of the rake, one of the most beautiful green tracks in North Yorkshire.</div>
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A "downhill section" didn't do that justice and, briefly, I stood to take it all in. Huge swells of green moorland dipped into steep, broken grounded ravines and gills, watched over by a fleet of white clouds, sailing serenely across an enormous cobalt blue sky like an armada of white galleons, themselves casting dark green shadows on the valley walls as they were swept along in the warm breeze. Curlews swooped and cried off into the distance, a pair of lapwings tilted and dived ... this is a stunning landscape. I was in awe. </div>
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<a href="http://www.swaledaleoutdoorclub.org.uk/swaledale-marathon.html">Courtesy of the Swaledale Outdoor Club</a></div>
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I was also losing time and so I cracked on, southwards diagonally along the eastern side of the Gill to Winterings and downwards through fields, following the little silver green trail made by the earlier quicker runners, towards Gunnerside and the river bottom where we would be rewarded by the first bit of dappled shade of the day and a welcome committee of curious onlookers and supporters in the village.</div>
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I only measure my performance on this race by the time I click the latch through the gate onto the stones at the side of the river bed. With 3 hours 13 minutes gone then so was any chance of a best time and I could now enjoy the remainder of the round with the pressure off.</div>
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The Tickhill mob had an unofficial supporter in Karen Gregory who I discovered by the checkpoint and was full of encouragement for us all: A great help to see that smiling face and a positive send off onto the last section; that tiring climb out of Gunnerside, up and eastwards back onto the northern wall of the Dale. </div>
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I glanced over my shoulder at this point and was rewarded, as always, by a great shot of the western end of the Dale; with Great Shunner Fell looming large on the far horizon - the picture that many have capured before, and hopefully I will again, before the final turn eastwards and the finish.</div>
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I did manage a jog of sorts along the grass fields before the stone lane to Blades where once again I happened across Fred at the self clip and from here, with Reeth Low Moor looming large ahead, we decided to walk back to the finish - providing we were to complete in under 5 hours! </div>
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Arriving at Surrender Bridge where, due to the glorious day, the area was packed with day trippers and supporters, I`ve never heard such applause for my arrival into a checkpoint - until I heard the cheers of "Come on Mum" and turned to see a host of ladies, some wearing Swaledale Outdoor Club vests, cantering down the road! ... I'll get my coat then.</div>
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Finally, over the last rise of green track, and with a glimpse back, we found ourselves on the last section.</div>
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and then the fun started.</div>
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I invited Fred to consider that when we're bound to a rocking chair in our dotage, then a 4.59 finish will look much better than a 5.01. The old competitive instincts returned and we legged it forward with a new found enthusiasm for this new goal, so late in the day. </div>
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Passing around half a dozen other competitors, we approached Skelgate Lane for the last self clip ...</div>
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... and "flew" along this last ankle breaking lane home. I must apologise here for rudely barging my way passed a couple of "slower" completers!. It was a purely personal scamper against the clock, and, after spilling out onto the lane and the left turn back down into Reeth and round The Buck by the village green, I finally stopped the clock at 4.56.<br />
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"Regrets, I've had a few ... and then again, too few to mention" ... Seriously, yet another fantastic event hosted by the Swaledale Outdoor Club. A blue riband event in the calendar for me and I know the Tickhill contingent value it highly. How did I feel with a personal worst? indifferent actually. All four of my completions have been sub 5 hours with a couple of 4.25 times lobbed in and so with my aversion to intense training I'll take that. Next year? Richard gave a glimpse of what can be achieved if the time and effort is put in. Let's see. Next year, if I'm in, I'll be in the Veteran 50 class ... and then the fun really does start.<br />
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Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07573531759334080565noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8223836520212907820.post-19211556170115417082013-04-16T08:46:00.000+01:002013-04-16T08:46:25.327+01:00Woldsman - 13th April 2013<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
The Woldsman - 50 miles of the rollercoaster which is the Chalky south face of the Yorkshire Wolds. An Out and back lane, track, field border and trail jaunt from Driffield, taking in Sledmere, Wharram Percy, Thixendale, Givendale, Huggate, Wetwang and all manner of ups and downs along the way back to the Showground..<br />
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I know, through bitter, but limited, experience that at some point the heavy blanket of a low point and the frustrations and pain of endurance racing will envelope me … todays slough of despond arrived to accompany me just after leaving the Wharram Percy checkpoint at mile 21.<br />
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I had just dashed down an impossibly steep chalky path to the first of the “hide and seek” self clips which was then followed by a big steep road climb which I foolishly tried jogging up – the reverse of a steep descent on last years Chalkland Way – and the feet and quads were now bashed up and refused to play ball, I had everything to walk at all, never mind doing it briskly.<br />
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The deserted church, the cottages, the mill pond and the deserted medieval village were all beautifully sunlit by now as the early morning mist had been burnt up and the rolling wolds were looking in their Sunday spring best but I could take no pleasure from it at all: I just had to contend with Malcolm Coles disappearing up and away into the distance along the tree lined ridge of the Wolds Way on towards the halfway point at Thixendale … tried a gel, nope, no good … had a look around … no better although the views were stunning. <br />
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Run for 50 paces, walk for 10, run another 50 paces; try, try to regain composure … then the left turn, another elusive self clip in the trees and … a view to bring you to a stand … what a view and the far distance trail to aim for after another swooping downhill grass slope …<br />
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Trotting across the top of Thixendale, looking down into the Dale and the village, at the halfway point, with 4.35 on the clock and the prospect of a small pasta dish c/w cheese sauce then life aint that bad and I had won a reprieve; a second life.<br />
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And with the sun out, the long southbound Dale bottom jog to Givendale proved a great opportunity to eat up some miles – happily alone, save for a few inquisitve spring lambs (or the ones that could be bothered to turn away from the sun).<br />
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These straw dry, steep sided; flat- bottomed grassy Dales really are a joy to be in and with the weather remaining fair, but not too hot, then it was a perfect setting for this East Yorkshire Long Distance Walkers Challenge Event. Eventually getting to the checkpoint at Givendale - 32 miles in - where a welcome was awaiting.<br />
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Then the climbs started … <br />
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They always do …<br />
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Not mountainous Lakeland affairs but enough to grind the pace out and so back to the shuffling towards the Huggate Wold check and then the final push on towards Wetwang at mile 42 and then the flat 8 mile finishing stretch.<br />
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Earlier in the day, the access through private land offered some unbelievable views across the sweeping chalk fields, too early in the year to be bothered by crops, the route showed Le Terroir in all its finest.<br />
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From the smiling faces at Danes` Graves checkpoint …<br />
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To the Sledmere Castle folly …<br />
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And the sweep down towards Sledmere village itself at 13.5 miles …<br />
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And the brief touch of civilisation of Sledmere village itself …<br />
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Passing Eleanor cross …<br />
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Before outbound, once again, passing deserted churches and field boundaries and sheep on steep banks!<br />
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That was early in the day but once tea time arrived and the checkpoint at the methodist hall presented us with a table groaning with provisions … well it was hard to leave unreplenished.<br />
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I did once, a few months ago, write about the final 5k of a 50 mile event bringing out the best in me on that particular day … with a 30 minute window to get in under 10 hours, and I did too with 5 minutes to spare, what would happen today? The running time was currently 10.30 and I had aimed for a sub 11 hour finish. So?<br />
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A failure. Try as I might, I just couldn’t grind it out although I did try and run the green lanes and tracks – even running on the A166 to try and minimise the time spent on the outskirts of Driffield – but it was a pathetic spent shuffle and with bleeding toes it proved a time too far out of reach. I turned back into the showground off the busy road in a grey drizzle and before me was a shuffling Malcolm Coles again.<br />
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He, too, had blown up completely and so a huge credit to him for slugging it out to the end, we muttered something and crept into the hut at the finish – 11.01 on the clock.<br />
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Sitting silently with a mug of tea steaming on the table I reflected on the day. Typical of the LDWA to provide terrific fayre at every checkpoint along the way along with huge encouragement for us all as we ploughed on, so many thank yous to all at East Yorkshire LDWA, certainly the best day of the year so far, I couldn’t really have asked for more.<br />
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Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07573531759334080565noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8223836520212907820.post-2820565250955219712013-04-03T21:03:00.000+01:002013-04-04T13:39:32.830+01:00He paused for breath, so I sat down and Quizzed Jon Steele ....<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I've noticed recently that a few members of the ultra community are putting big markers down in the sand. Was it ever so? Jezz Bragg has just run from the top to the bottom of New Zealand, Stuart Walker recently ran from Vienna to Nice casually traversing the Alps for charity, Nicky Spinks breaks records for fun and Lizzy Hawker strides the world stage. Coupled with these outstanding performances, our local ultras are now full to the seams and if you don't buy a number early then you aint in. I've only knocked around the circuit for a few years now but even I've seen the increased participation and interest. Most recently, the Runfurther series has seen new involvement with a fresh website put together by Mark Barnes and also the addition to the team of Jon Steele; he of Hardmoor fame and so i thought it high time to pick up some tips and ideas for my further involvement, improvement and general progression in the sport. It was, after all, the runfurther website which got me hooked into the long distance stuff.<br />
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So, I finally sat Jon down after his brave crack at the Viking Way and asked him about his running, his personal choices and the circuit in general:<br />
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M: Jon, I've noticed you've been out most weekends so far this year, seen much TV lately?<br />
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J: Yes, quite a few runs, as well as the usual races etc. I have been busy reccing the Hardmoors 26.2 Race series routes; Marathon/Half Marathon/10k and changing them, so then going back out to run them again, then signing them before the event etc a tough job but someones got to do it!. I`ve also been trying to fit in some speed work on the treadmill (intervals etc) as I have a lot of long slow mileage in my legs, I need some speed!. I hit the weights intensively 3 times a week with one of my clients, we get pretty competitive too (all upper body) then try to fit in core work and stretching. I manage a glance at the TV on a night while I`m doing Hardmoors Series administration on the laptop, usually music channels unless Shirleys watching Eastenders.<br />
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M: So what brought on the 52 ultras in 52 weeks last year?<br />
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J: Mid life crisis!, No seriously, I have no real idea what brought it on. I guess I just wanted a challenge for 2012 and enjoy Ultras, especially the social aspect, and with Shirley away working in Saudi I thought it would stop me moping around the house. Then, before I had even thought it through, I`d emailed a selection of my running friends about it (I suppose to put myself in the position of not being able to change my mind) ...<br />
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M: We do share an admiration for the North Yorkshire Moors and it's Coasts, how long have you organised the Hardmoor and why did you start?<br />
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J: The first Hardmoors Race was the Hardmoors 110 in 2008. So this will be the 6th year, the first Hardmoors 55 was held in 2010, the first Hardmoors 60 was held in 2011 and the first Hardmoors 30 was also in 2011. 2013 is the first year of the Hardmoors 26.2 Trail Marathon Series. 2014 will see possibly 2 new races, both moving away from the North York Moors and maybe also a special edition of the Hardmoors 110 (still undecided about this, but would be quite a challenge to both organise and for competitors to run) ...<br />
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I started the Hardmoors Race after running the Cleveland way over a couple of days while Bivving on the Hill tops and a bus shelter in Sandsend and developed a love affair for the route and wanting to share it with other like minded runners. It equals the West Highland Way and any of the other magical routes this country has to offer, and is hidden away in a quiet corner of the UK. It has everything, moorland, hills, cliff tops, small fishing villages, the odd seaside resort and of course the sea. A run of two halves! ...<br />
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I couldn't have put it better myself<br />
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M: Is the 26.2 mile series a new idea and a way to get people into the ultra scene?<br />
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J: Ha Ha Secretly! Most of the Trail Marathons are Ultra distance and even if they weren't they are as tough as an ultra. No, I think again it was away of bringing people into beautiful areas plus it was a chance to develop my own routes. The Hardmoors 60, 55 and 110 are predominately the Cleveland Way with maybe one or two little bits thrown in and I always felt a bit of a cheat calling it something different from the Cleveland Way Race. The Hardmoors 30 again was an adaption of the Cleveland Way. The 26.2 series is all about developing new routes that make sense and are a real challenge. It was also a chance for Ultrarunners, training for the 110/55/60, to be able to get out and run on similar terrain to these events. In my own training I take part in a lot of 20 plus mile LDWA events for both enjoyment and to get the weekly distance in my legs ready for the 100 milers ...<br />
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M: And, do you have a favourite race?<br />
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J: Wow thats a hard question, I can give you a list if thats ok?. UTMB, West Highland Way, Hardmoors 110 (ok maybe thats biased but I had a fantastic race in 2011 - I finished 5 hours quicker then I anticipated) Hardmoors 55 (when every checkpoint you get to is marshalled by your friends it makes a fantastic race). Glenmore 24, Lakeland 100 (although my feet would not agree); Swaledale Marathon, Osmotherley Phoenix, Lyke Wake Race, Wadi Bih (Oman), Woldsman, Frostbite 30, Rombalds Stride, Picos des Espadanas Trail Marathon, Highland Fling. Sorry I know that wasn't one ...<br />
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But it does show what fabulous opportunities we all have to see the outdoors<br />
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M: Would you have any kit recommendations and why that choice?<br />
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J: This can, and does, change on a monthly basis! Currently running in Salomon Sense Mantra for hard packed trails, Inov-8 x talons for technical ground and Brooks pure project Cadence for road. I tend to overpronate and find that if I go for a low heel lift 3-6mm it seems to work best for me: Keeps me running on my mid foot rather than heel. If I go for minimal, 0mm drop, then i suffer when I hit hard surfaces (14-15stone pounding down on my feet needs a little support/protection). I ran last year in Hokas for a while, which were great, but I found being so high up and then overpronating meant more pressure on my knees (second to none for going over Rannoch Moor on the West Highland Way Race or parts of the L100, I imagine they would be awesome in the UTMB or Tour des Geants). My Current pack is the Salomon 14+3 skin set: I find this really good, I got all my gear in fine for the 'Viking Way Race' and it`ll be perfect for the Lakeland 100 and would be a good UTMB pack too. I will also use this for shorter LDWA events as well, for me it is much better than the slab 12 version as the bottle holders will take normal size bottles, the only down side is the strapping is pretty much a faff to use. I use x bionic compression tights, which are really good, if you pay full price though they are very expensive! and I will look at their shorts for when the weather improves. I always use compression shorts or tights (force of habit I expect) I'm possibly looking at a new jacket to replace my OMM Smock (which has been ok, my waterproof jackets include a North Face Paclite, a Berghaus Paclite and of course the OMM smock, during the very very wet 2012 West Highland Way race, I went through all 3 jackets, the most expensive jacket lasted the longest in the rain, keeping me dry that is. then the Berghaus and lastly the cheapest the OMM jacket) hearing great reports about the Montane Minimus jacket, so may be tempted by the smock version.<br />
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M: Turning to Food and drink for ultra eventers, you have well publicised dietary requirements: What`s a recommendation diet for ultra / prospesctive ultra runners and what does the general restrictions of your diet mean?<br />
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J: Yes, I am a coeliac, so checkpoint food is a no no. For anyone who doesn't know what a coeliac is, I basically can't eat Gluten, foods such as bread, cake, pasta, pizza, cereals, beer,oats etc etc . No LDWA broken biscuits or flapjacks etc. Even most broths/soups contain this. <br />
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So I rely on what I carry which is usually gels and 9bars, sometimes Hammer nutrition stuff such as sustained fuel and perpeterum, and also fruit nuts and seeds.<br />
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I currently follow a Paleo diet which suits me as too many Carbs make me hold a lot of water and feel sluggish. I follow the Paleo diet for Athletes which allows you to consume carbs before during and after a training session/race. So the Carbs you intake are used to fuel you through your workout not laying around unused. The diet or should I say way of life avoids processed foods, which includes grain, dairy and a lot more. I have lost about 3/4 of a stone since January plus built some lean muscle; am currently stronger then I have been in several years and my recovery rate is fantastic. Sometimes I go off the diet when away abroad and its not so easy to avoid processed foods and I notice the difference. If I start to eat carbs then I start to feel hungry all the time and my energy levels dip. I am not saying this is right for everyone but if you are having trouble with weight etc, then have a look at the Paleo diet, it may just work for you, plus a lot of people are Coeliac or Wheat intolerant without knowing, cut out the bread, the beer, pasta, cereal and see what happens, don't say you can't cut out the beer! you have the will power to run distances, surely you have the willpower to cut out gas and water?<br />
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M: Well said!, I too followed a Paleo style regime early last year and have never felt better than at that point - I followed the Dukan diet for a period and lost a load of rubbish weight and all that sluggish feeling too - actually managed a couple of pbs`. I`ve also noticed very recently that Ultra Stu is an advocate of the Paleo diet and he's just done a 1.20 half marathon which is a shockingly good improvement for him. For me, have decided to revisit the Paleo as it did work and I have to admit I lapsed from that way forward. Thinking about it, it's high time I sorted that out.<br />
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Obviously, my next question is ... Your favourite runner<br />
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J: Shirley Colquhoun! obviously :)<br />
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Plenty I admire for what they have achieved. I have read numerous books (Feet in the Clouds, running high, running for my life, Dean Karnazes books, Running on Empty, Sharon Gaytors book, The clock keeps ticking), plus tons more. <br />
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In 2006, I picked up Mike Cudhay's book in an old book shop for about £8 in Thorton Le Dale (Near Helmsley) 'Wild Trail to Far Horizons' and he really inspired me. Before that, Ronald Turnbull books 'Welsh 3000, Long Days in Lakeland, Lakeland Mountain Challenges, Across Scotland on Foot etc, full of mentions of people such as Martin Stone, Helen Diamantides, Mark Hartell, Joss Naylor, Billy Bland etc. So at the time these where my favourite runners, now some of my favourite runners aren't Killen Jornet, Scott Jurek etc, but the people I meet at the races I organise or enter, people who come first, last or dnf. The real characters of our sport. I love them ...<br />
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M: So no favourite athlete generally?<br />
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J: No, I Don't really have one as i don't watch much sports. I know that sounds odd. I don't like football, I may watch a bit of the Olympics. I suppose it goes back to the last question for me.<br />
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M: I agree with that, I used to play senior Rugby Union but that was many years ago and since the running then I too have little interest in armchair sports - much prefer to participate at any level than waste time.<br />
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M: Running music or sounds of the great outdoors?<br />
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J: Sounds of the great outdoors unless its the second night in an ultra and I need a boost then the iPod comes out. Or of course if I`m on a treadmill :o))<br />
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Lastly, I did ask John when he and Shirley were going to tie the knot?<br />
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J: Depends if she will have me ;o)) Top secret :0)) ....<br />
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And with that he was off, probably on some more Hardmoor work or admin or recce running or circuit training or ....<br />
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Cheers Jon, much appreciate your time with a mid packer!!! You're always welcome to join us back here.<br />
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Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07573531759334080565noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8223836520212907820.post-22313577576865353312013-03-18T17:08:00.002+00:002013-03-18T17:08:22.232+00:00Falcon Flyer - 16th March 2013<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
The first of the three annual challenge events hosted by the Scarborough and Ryedale Mountain Rescue Team to help towards the essential fund raising for this vital service.<br />
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Short route for us today; just the 16 mile out and back from Ravenscar into the North Yorkshire Moors - forfeiting the extra four mile loop that would have taken us down to Boggle Hole, preferring instead the direct return over the top from Jugger Howe - the right decision?<br />
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The first bit, hobbling up the Moorland Road towards Three Lords` Stones and we joined the first "path" of the day ... for the remainder of this narrative, for "path" read "stream" ... which guided us down through Pye Rigg Plantation to cross the A171 Scarborough Road and continue towards Harwood Dale: Following further "paths"...<br />
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At the bottom of Broadlands Slack I turned left down the farm track. Big mistake, this got deeper and deeper rendering forward movement ridiculous. Eventually an actual tarmac road brought some sanity to my route selection but we had lost time and places ...<br />
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... and with snows on the horizon, further trouble was portended.<br />
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... And once out on the moors, heading round brown Hill and up towards the Burn Howe checkpoint, atop the high point of the turn, then the weather was chucked at us in buckets. With sleet and snow driving into our faces, it made the uphill climb through snowdrifts, clay clogged "paths" and waterways nearly impossible; I have no idea how the decent runners make such speedy headway out here?<br />
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It may look nothing from the comfy chair, but this section to the duck pond was horrid - just trying to get a decent purchase was difficult - so very relieved to make the turn east and the long downhill to Jugger beck couldn't come soon enough. The problem as "runners" reduced to a helpless shuffle is one of temperature control and with the elements being flung in and hat, gloves, hands and feet all frozen it was a pleasure to leave the tops - what this would have been like without waterproofs ...</div>
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so a very welcome sight of the Mountain Rescue Landrover ...</div>
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... before a final push onwards towards the final checkpoint ... "Won't you just turn this nab of heath?"<br />
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to see the blue tent of the checkpoint with the flapjacks, jaffa cakes and the samovar on the go!.<br />
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Like many Lyke Wake Races before, the crossing of the A171 has signified the end of the adventure. Todays adventure was quite different and a devilish introduction to Winter moorland running challenges for Michelle. I'm usually around these parts in the Summer when it's different ... honest!.</div>
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Trying to run through frozen streams and snow drifts uphill into the teeth of a gale with no sound footing to be found at any price is light years away from fair weather road running and it asks the question of everyone that has a go. Emotionally, it pulls the mind: There is no escape from the track, the only way is forward and although a retirement can be had at any checkpoint you wish to pick, then somehow failure isn't in the vocabulary ...a DNF is reserved for a serious event either weather or health. Tears of frustration simply are not enough.</div>
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So, looking back as I always do at this point, its bittersweet to see the clouds break and realise that all that anguish probably covered all of a few miles in the middle section where the tempest lived.</div>
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Then the quiet of the view down into Ravenscar and Robin Hoods Bay once we're over the crest of the final hill heading down through the bare field on the final mile ...<br />
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... and then all of a sudden, my camera steamed up as we cruised back into the hall ... 3 hours 59 minutes after the kick off, and at least we were greeted by the friendly faces keeping time and tabs on us all!</div>
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Not sure whether I should say thanks to the team for their support or this time the onus is on them for giving us a mini Fimbulwinter around mile 9 - or was it just the rubbish surface to try and run over up to Burn Howe? can't remember now .... storm in a teacup?<br />
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As ever, the Pie `n` Peas render the travails historical and immediately hit the spot. Three cheers for the cakes and endless tea. Its always worth that ... no doubt I shall return, once I've dried out.<br />
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Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07573531759334080565noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8223836520212907820.post-42825306761381421712013-03-11T22:07:00.002+00:002013-03-12T19:01:48.633+00:00Wuthering Hike - 9th March 2013<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Wuthering Hike (Haworth Hobble) – A Circuitous 32 miler of Pennine Tracks, Trails and Roads, out and back with 4400ft of ascent/ descent .. And, my fifth straight Wuthering Hike to boot.<br />
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At a certain point in every ultra race, I have a decision to make: What point in the event will I choose to dictate the outcome of the day? Is it to lift the rate of attack of this early, steeply inclining run away from Bronte bridge up to, and beyond, Top Withins which will enable me to gain the advantage? - the thought of which will compel me onwards for the remainder of the day to that personal best. <br />
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Alternatively, could I retain the iron discipline to manage and maintain a steady reserved approach to crest the sunny uplands of a negative split! This theory is well trodden but, for me, today’s course doesn’t lend itself to that at all. The first 20 odd miles to the foot of Stoodley Pike are pretty straightforward, both navigationally and energetically ..... but looking up at the monument will provide me with the timely reminder that the most severe up and downers: Down into Hebden Bridge then up to, through and down from Heptonstall are now to be undertaken: These last dozen or so miles of the Round, away from the Pike, will always represent my greatest challenge.<br />
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.... and; can't you tell these words were written from the comfort of a centrally heated office a day or so after the weekend. ... when I never thought I'd be so pleased to be this close, and with the biggy nearly out of the way...<br />
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The throng was late in gathering at the start, just before 8.00am on the cobbles outside the Fleece in Haworth, so when we finally kicked off at 8.05am, I found myself at the back of the field.<br />
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No bad thing for me that, and it was only towards the rise to the house at Top Withens, 38 minutes after the off, that I realised my too quick start placed me amongst a pack way above my pay grade ... Splatcher along with Linda from Calder Valley soon left me behind as did Steve Foster, crossing the Widdop Dam Wall and Andy Ellison just prior to the house at Top Withens. These had been my early companions before the climb away from Widdop towards the Long Causeway checkpoint. <br />
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I did try to stay composed becoming left behind, but the weather, the too early signs of fatigue and the faltering and failing attempts to fuel and hydrate brought me quite low. We all have these sections, and better times do come along, but I had no supporters to tow me forward and was left chuntering slowly all the way up to the car park `neath the turbines.</div>
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It had been snowing for quite a few hours at this point and the cold was starting to cause me issues .... the raynaud's syndrome affecting my fingers was particularly harsh at this point and I was losing more time on the long wind back towards Hebden Bridge. I did enjoy the novelty of eating a hot dog whilst running down Stoney Lane but with every layer on including hat and waterproof hood up, I saw no-one further and enjoyed a solitary lope all the way to Mankinholes. <br />
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Earlier in the day, I had decided to take a couple of Ibuprofen tablets as a precaution to the knee struggles I'd enjoyed last year and this time I had an armchair ride with the knees ... It has dawned on me by now that the training plans I have, the time I'm afforded along with the terrain I have access to is perfect for long flat or slightly undulating trail runs. The steep climbs of Calderdale and more generally these northern hills catch me out every year so I no longer beat myself up with this failing; just aim to enjoy these rounds as much as possible. I aint a Fell Runner, far from it but I love these days out so for me, any opportunity to take a picture remains a chance to stand still for a second or two, catch my breath and regroup..<br />
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But Stoodley couldn't be ignored and my lack of climbing ability was highlighted by being bypassed by lots of runners before an old friend - Mick Bull - appeared at my shoulder: A sprightly 63 and in great shape, Mick was looking to better his 6.46 of last year and with a prevailing wind and a good work rate from here I told him we'd do it no problem. <br />
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With the climbs in and out of the Calder Valley well behind us there remained the cold trudge up to the Top O` The Stairs through the coldest wind and snows of the day ... I did feel the well forecasted chill here and with ice cold water and cold gels for fuel I did feel at my worst and so a big thanks to Mick for dragging me onwards.<br />
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Over the top and down through the last of the clag, never was the sight of Leeshaw Reservoir more welcome as it appeared out of the clouds ... <br />
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... with that, and the trip around Peniston Hill then down through the churchyard, over the cobbles, though the narrow ginnel and the road; we were back at the finish, happily dishing a few lame runners on the final stretch.</div>
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Delighted to get in with 6.38 on the board which gave Mick his improvement on last years time! A big thank you to him for dragging me those last few miles to the finish: I'd about gone by then so a great pleasure to finish with a friend and a welcome cup o` tea in the school.</div>
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I always try and make a point of thanking the marshalls and support crews. Everyone, along with Brett and the KCAC mob here certainly earned it today - no way could we have gone round without you. (Still didn't dare try the Laphroaig prior to the Pike). Looking back it wasn't as cold as it could have been and with the benefit of another 36 hours after the finish and the further cushioning of hindsight then its churlish to be anything other than pleased ... I feel we worked for the shirt today.</div>
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Thoughts driving home? Another great day out: Snowed on a lot, very cold and very very wet. No best time either today which I secretly hoped for but not a PW and the chance to say hello to lot's of friends after a winter away from the circuit - not too shabby that. And Mick was second in his age group! that`ll do for the day.</div>
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Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07573531759334080565noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8223836520212907820.post-50824026712208942792013-02-21T16:00:00.000+00:002013-02-21T16:00:44.955+00:00Into 2013 ..... "Quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat."<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
After what IS a few months of racing inactivity, then this blog stutters into life - and well into 2013 at that.<br />
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So, what have I been up to? Actually quite a lot of mileage for the coming year where, don't tell anyone I said so, but further Pb's will be quietly targeted and further adventures both old and new will be revisited or started afresh. Ideally, I aim to complete, alone, a few long distance paths that have been less covered in the written media by runners of late: The Minster Way, The Woldsman along with a few of the more obscure paths ... that sort of thing, as well as catching up with friends on the official ultra circuit races and of course the Mountain Rescue fund raising events which I enjoy taking part in. Once again, notice the absence of the word "compete" from the narrative; I`ll save that for the Swaledale Marathon later in June.<br />
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To date, 199 miles of road / track training miles. Mostly in the dark, when it's been either snowing or raining, blowing or just plain freezing underfoot. Crunching through broken ice and kicking frozen molehills over in the pitch dark has proved such fun!. However I take comfort from the fact these hard yards will be rewarded later in the year when life and colour returns to the countryside.<br />
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Retaining a glacial pace for most of my running career to date, I've tried hard this year so far to concentrate on intervals albeit on the flat tracks of North Nottinghamshire. These runs have seen me start off very positively like this ... <br />
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... only to return, shattered, a few hours later, in the late evening looking like this after striving for any improvement ...</div>
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And, after 15 odd miles of pitch dark evening road and track runs, I can never get my last mile under 7.25 minute pace ... I know my place in the scheme of things.</div>
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I even paid my club subscription fees uncommonly early this year: Within the first 48 hours of the New Year which, as all my club mates at Tickhill R & AC will confirm, is a first for me ... in fact so early that I got billed £5 surcharge for early settlement! - however, its also been great to catch up with everyone else after my hibernation period and to see and hear plans for the year ahead.<br />
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Many marathons and challenging events are in the wings for many of us all: First ultramarathon for me being the Wuthering Hike on the 9th March followed by the Falcon Flyer the following weekend of the 16th. <br />
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So I cant wait to get over Top Withens again on the Wuthering Hike to immerse myself into all this landscape again for 32 miles ...<br />
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So, after a lengthy period of radio silence during the winter chills, it's time to get ready for those hill challenges. Mileage has probably been OK but, as ever, my timetable doesn't allow for much hill work and so I have to accept what I get ... time will tell. And, by the end of this year I'll be in the V50 class ... then the hard work really starts with the quality of the boys in that Category!<br />
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Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07573531759334080565noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8223836520212907820.post-6320077736673769962012-11-20T10:49:00.002+00:002012-11-20T11:58:31.773+00:00Heanor Running Club 10K Christmas Pudding Run - 18th November 2012<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
... Or, the Heanor R.C. Matthew Walker 10K Pudding Race; Matthew Walker remaining the oldest Christmas Pudding maker in the world - based in Derbyshire since1899. The traditional recipe continues to include 13 core ingredients - representative of Jesus and his 12 apostles ... and the firm boasts a handy car park to boot, being adjacent to Shipley Country Park where today's event, the 26th running in the clubs 30th year, starts and finishes. No T shirt today but guess what as a take home souvenir? and the first of the season. Uncommonly early perhaps for a Christmas Pud, but who needs an excuse and anyway how many T shirts does a runner want to add to the collection in the bottom drawer?.<br />
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The sight of an old Colliery Wheel, the universal memory icon of these northern mining communities, hinted at the history of the area; ubiquitous these wheels in both Nottinghamshire, North Derbyshire as well as being sentinels of old mining locations in the old South Yorkshire coalfields where I've both scampered, and remarked upon, in earlier race reports - landmarks of a bygone industrial age..<br />
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... and I'm indebted for the information provided by Derbyshire County Council for their history of this park - although the beautiful autumnal tree pictures contained remain my own.<br />
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<h2>
The history of Shipley Country Park</h2>
The Shipley Estate is an
ancient manor mentioned in the Domesday Book (1086), when it was
recorded as belonging to Gilbert of Ghent, the nephew of William the
Conqueror. Records dating from the 14th century show that the land was
used as a sporting estate with a hunting lodge on Shipley Hill and the
area was prized for its extensive forest and excellent hunting.<br />
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Shipley
Country Park has long had an association with coal mining, however,
from the mid 1500's, coal mining began to play an increasingly important
part in shaping the landscape at Shipley and providing income for the
owners. By 1722 coal mining was in full swing on the estate, and around
1765 the Miller Mundy family took over the running of the mines
themselves.<br />
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With the death of Alfred Edward Miller Mundy in 1920,
the Shipley Colliery Company (founded by the Miller Mundy family) took
over complete control of the mines and ran them until nationalisation in
1947.<br />
The Woodside and Coppice pits continued in production until
the 1960's when they were closed because they were uneconomic. This
brought a close to over 250 years of deep mining at Shipley and left
behind a legacy of spoil heaps, derelict buildings, polluted lakes and
30 abandoned mine shafts.<br />
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Derbyshire County Council determined
that a Country Park was a suitable memorial to mining in the area. The
National Coal Board obtained permission in 1970 to reclaim the land in
the vicinity of the closed collieries by opencast methods. Work started
in 1970 and was completed by July 1974. A further two years were spent
contouring the site, seeding fields and meadows, planting trees and
constructing facilities for the public before the Park opened to the public on 26 May 1976.<br />
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Nice and busy on this bright Sunday morning as 818 runners thronged around the start line, hats and gloves were the early order as the ground was frosted over even as we kicked off at 10.30am ...<br />
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The race itself started with a couple of circuits of the industrial estate before a steady uphill road section took us out of Heanor away westwards towards the village of Smalley. Here, just after halfway, we turned back east and thankfully away from the main A608 back through winding and mostly downhill country tracks and lanes towards the country park at Shipley. Must say a quick thank you at this point to all the marshals who were all excellent in keeping us safe on what proved to be a very busy road - and also to acknowledge the patience of the motorists and say a big thanks for all the roadside support along the way.</div>
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The aim of this probable final outing of the year was to try and end on a high for Michelle; looking for a hat trick of PB`s this year and as we turned into the park with approximately a mile to go then I thought it was in the bag. A final left turn around the south side of Osbornes Pond brought us up to the 400m to go sign and a nice grassy slope to burn up - overtaking a few more before crossing the chip mat in 53.21.</div>
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Personal best for the 10k in the bag and with Christmas Puds in hand it only left me to capture another striking image of the autumnal showing before we quitted the Park to head back North with the spoils. Many thanks to Heanor RC for another grand morning out in the park - delighted to be part of this annual fixture.</div>
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Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07573531759334080565noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8223836520212907820.post-28661976782305196682012-11-05T10:50:00.002+00:002012-11-05T12:32:41.218+00:00Guy Fawkes 10 - 4th November 2012<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">If the fog would have lifted on this unseasonably and surprisingly cold November Sunday morning then this would probably have qualified as one of the most scenic of road 10 milers in the Northern Calendar. Last year, we had clear blue skies as a perfect backcloth to all the reds, yellows and golds of the autumnal deciduous woodlands all along the route … that was then. Sadly this was now.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">The route starts and finishes at Ripley Castle, which today looked like this …</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ripley is a small and beautiful village about three miles from Harrogate and has been in the ownership of the Ingilby family for centuries, Sir Thomas still occupying the Castle. Dr Richard Muir described the Hotel de Ville as "a sort of village town hall, eccentrically continental - the style is Gothic revival and within the energetically soaring lines of the exterior was a worthy interior which contained a lecture hall, baronial in style." – It also made for a great Race HQ for the Guy Fawkes 10. ... All very eerie and indeed Gothic on such a morning!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">The start line seemed deserted until about two minutes from the off, runners obviously trying to keep warm so not appearing until the last moment. I looked round from the front and caught the crowd just before the 10.30am start.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">The aim of today was a further attempt at a PB for Michelle. Last year saw a 1.39 effort and so todays target had been reduced to1.35 but by the time we’d climbed to Burnt Yates and the left turn back towards the Nidd Valley we were behind schedule and just couldn’t get going. Breath rasped the cold foggy air in and it was just so cold, this coupled with the uphill start through Park Lodge was just too much to place us in the box seat. After half an hour however, the mood slowly changed as we levelled off and then sped downhill into Birstwith, regaining lost time, back now with an even chance of success. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Four miles gone and we were back on time, notwithstanding the climb up the Birstwith Brute which led to speedwalking at best … </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Then the second of the three road climbs – the Swincliffe Swine – was beaten and behind us and loping through Hampsthwaite, back over the Nidd, I knew we’d be in with a shout.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">We ran most of the final road climb – aptly named “For Fawkes Sake” – back to the village of Clint and then following a sharp right downhill track back to the start of Hollybank Wood, there remained just 1 mile to go... and we upped the pace.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">I suppose spending most time off road means that a muddy leaf strewn rocky inclined path feels like home and so we passed several more probable road runners before the madcap dash back into the castle grounds – stopping the clock at 1.32 and a job very well done. … 7 minutes better than last year for Madame. Where will it all end I wonder? …</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Milling around post race wasn’t much of an option as the fog was still wrapped around us and so a welcome mug of tea in the Castle Tea Room, a quick picture of Guido himself ...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">...and we were back into the car to get warm.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">Another great race was terrifically well marshalled and organised by the Nidd mob and so once again a big thank you for a fine mornings outing.</span></div>
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Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07573531759334080565noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8223836520212907820.post-76027605578406645762012-10-22T12:58:00.000+01:002012-11-12T10:07:40.300+00:00Rowbothams Round Rotherham 50 - 20th October 2012 <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span lang="DE">Today, Saturday the 20<sup>th</sup> October, I had a run around Rotherham – taking part in the annual, and my second, Rowbothams Round Rotherham 50 mile race.</span></div>
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<span lang="DE">Not being a racer myself, I`m simply restricted to possible PB territory so never really troubling the scorers; in fact it's only within the last couple of years that i get around before the flags come down! So, i try to pick a slant on the event to convey its essence from my perspective However, my contemporaries of whatever ability level, a lot of whom have now become firm friends, are never far from the narrative.</span><br />
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<span lang="DE">Ludicrously, I found myself at the front of the start line; a shameful place to be when I glanced over my left shoulder to see Duncan Harris and Ian Symington – todays winner (6.29! how on earth can that be allowed) and last years victor – amongst other leading lights but I never had time to get to my rightful place – back of mid pack – before the claxon went off and we were away promptly into the half light of a 7.00am autumnal morning.</span></div>
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<span lang="DE">This trip around the Rotherham ring today, my local patch, always reminds me of the contrasts with my youth several decades ago. Take any subject you like: Urban / Rural, Road / Trail, Industrial (old and New) / Countryside; all these contrasts are to be found along the way .... from the early morning deserted canal systems around Elsecar right on to my last shot of the day besides the broad canal in Mexborough ...</span></div>
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<span lang="DE">... not forgetting the derelict canals above the Rother Valley Country Park.</span></div>
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<span lang="DE">All signs of the decay and decline in the traditional industries of the surrounding area, but with a surprisingly good outcome and aesthetic for the walkers and runners of the this 50 miler. The River Don, too, is now surrounded by relics of old industry and is now remarkably clean; a fine salmon being caught around these parts very recently! ...</span></div>
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<span lang="DE">... and part of the old Templeborough steel plant now houses the modern Magna experience; all more confirmations of the terminal heavy industrial decline.</span></div>
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<span lang="DE">However, before all this nonsense it was a chance, prior to the off, to catch up with running pals. I Would have liked to say hello to <a href="http://jsteeles50in52.blogspot.co.uk/">Jon Steele</a> but I was a late arrival and he was surrounded by well wishes who surely must have asked the question I longed to pose – "So, how`s the body standing up to 38 ultra marathons so far this year?" and "Are you still doing 30 miles around Ennerdale tomorrow?". Me old mucker <a href="http://ultraploddernick.blogspot.co.uk/">Nick Ham</a> was a welcome sight and remains a font of knowledge and experience of the years events ... always good to get Nick`s take on the season and his ups and downs ... navigation along the Yorkshire coast eh?.</span></div>
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<span lang="DE">Lastly, before the off it was good to speak with <a href="http://hikerdawn.blogspot.co.uk/2012/10/round-rotherham-50-mile-20-oct-2012.html">Dawn Westrum</a>, adventure racer extraordinaire, who has had another packed and very successful year – I'll leave it to Dawn to say what's planned for next spring but what a terrific opportunity!.</span></div>
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<span lang="DE">54 minutes in and the 10k mark has been passed and we're already sliding around in, what would be our constant companion today, ... Mud!. Fields of it, much later on passed halfway but the early dewy tracks through woods and fields had many of us sliding around fighting for a purchase; hot work to remain upright, and not all of us achieved it.</span></div>
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<span lang="DE">Leaving the remnants of the Dearne Valley we trudged upwards towards the smashing village of Wentworth, through and passed the impressive Holy Trinity Church at the top of the hill.</span></div>
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<span lang="DE">Impressive as this "new" Victorian Church was only commissioned in 1872 by the 6th Earl of Fitzwilliam at a cost of around £25,000 in memory of his parents. It was designed by John Pearson, who was the leading Victorian architect at that time – take a peep inside next time you`re passing, the stonemasonry alone inside the vaulted body is well worth worth the visit.</span></div>
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<span lang="DE">The last of the early climbs saw us passing Kepples Column.</span></div>
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<span lang="DE">At 115 feet, Keppel’s Column is the tallest of the Wentworth follies; it was originally planned to be even taller and capped with a statue of Admiral Keppel, but evidently the Marquis of Rockingham ran short of funds. It was designed by John Carr, who was also responsible for the Wentworth Woodhouse stables and the family’s Irish house. This, the tallest and the last view of the Wentworth Estate landmarks, sees us away to checkpoint 1 at Grange Park in good order, both Nick and I take a refuel, have a quick chinwag and then away forward as the sun lights up the grass onwards towards Sheffield and beyond.</span></div>
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<span lang="DE">Alongside and over the River Don and the industry lesson is over. I paused on the lane under the M1 motorway however to congratulate <a href="http://www.raymatthews.co.uk/">Ray Matthews.</a> This 71 year old Maltby runner was completing 3 back to back fifty milers and was a quarter of the way around his second lap. Due respect where it's deserved, I wouldn't dream of going that far so a handshake and we parted, him with my hearty good wishes. Just after this meeting, I took my final snap of the industrially changed landscape ...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span lang="DE">Tinsley Marshalling Yard today bears no resemblance to the yard of its recent history. It was opened in 1965 as part of a major plan to rationalise all aspects of the rail services in the Sheffield area, and closed in stages from 1985 with the run-down of rail freight in Britain. It was also the site of the <span style="text-decoration: none;">Traction Maintenance Depot</span> which was closed and demolished in the mid 1990`s. At its peak 250 locomotives were allocated here at this depot - only their ghosts now remain. The Yard was designed along the</span></span> lines of large US rail freight yards. It featured gravity-assisted <span style="text-decoration: none;">shunting</span> and a computerised system of wagon control. Incoming trains were split in the 11 arrival sidings, propelled over the hump in the yard, from where the individual wagons rolled down a slope and were automatically sorted into new trains on the Yard's 80 main sorting <span style="text-decoration: none;">sidings</span>. It must have looked like a proper yard, but with such a brief life as the surrounding industry declined.</div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">From previous experience, this next section to the halfway point, along the bottom of Orgreave, through Treeton, would represent a dark part of the race for me. The bit where one strives for energy reserves and that second wind!. But with 2 hours 13 minutes for the 1/2 marathon distance, I had to persevere on my own as by now we were all well strung out. Just a case of head down and grinding the miles out, topping up with jelly beans / gels and water ... eventually, turning away left and upwards towards Harthill where I recovered a tad and got the camera out to capture the Lake views ...</span></div>
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Passing under the M1 and the last mile to halfway we were confronted with Brown. ...<br />
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...Brown fields as far as the eye could see ... a recently ploughed field made for tough running and this would be the terrain and a theme for the next few hours.</div>
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Then just prior to the checkpoint, I was delighted to bump into Joe Williams from Esk Valley who was “in it for the 100 points” and freely admitted to being trashed at that point. Joe and I had passed the time of day at both the Falcon Flyer and Lyke wake Race earlier in the year, both North Yorkshire Moors routes and hence in his backyard so to speak, now I know it's the points that brought him down South and not just the sweeping motorway views. I did indicate that he and I were side by side, as he grumbled away, but as he gently reminded me that he had kicked off at 6.00am then I must be doing something towards a PB then, no matter how bad I felt at that point. And, Joe got back in his expected time ... and bagged his points!.</div>
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I did manage to get away from the Harthill checkpoint with 4.24 on the watch and then began the mental calculations. Will I have the discipline to keep going, however pathetic the plod will become, will I succombe, once again, to the shuffle of the spent force or can I grit it out and get my sub 10 hour finish?</div>
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At least for now there wasn't anymore climbing to be done, just more and more brown fields.<br />
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And wind turbines in brown fields ...<br />
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... and the track snaked ever away ... across a brown field.<br />
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Then unexpected delights in a small canal lock system by the unofficial drinks stop at Turnerwood ...</div>
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Then it was nose to the grindstone for me. Mindful of being well on the return leg, the decision was made - I would get that PB of a sub 10 hour finish and so now the work had to be put in.<br />
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Only brief refueling stops at Woodsetts and Firbeck, and with a decent pack of coat-tails to hang onto I was soon on the tussocks of the approach to Roche Abbey and the penultimate checkpoint through the churchyard in Maltby<br />
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Many mental calculations followed and with 40 miles gone and 7 hours 40 minutes on the clock, if I just kept plodding onwards then ultimately I'll get there - in time. A bit of head down again out of Maltby, through Micklebring, under the M18 - once again catching Malcolm Coles who gave me a great tow through more fields - and I'm nearly done. Cresting the hill of Old Denaby with the Don valley below it needed a burst of enthusiasm and I chased a Rotherham Harrier relay runner down the hill to the last checkpoint to give me a shot at my target.</div>
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With 76K gone and "only" a 5K to go I had 30 minutes left ... normally no problem to do a 5K in 30 minutes and I should do it with time to spare but I needed to run it properly along the Mexborough canal and through the Swinton streets and parkland, upwards, in order to get back to the Finish: doing so in 9 hours 55.</div>
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It just remains to be said how much it meant to achieve my target, and to say a big thank you for all the team of supporters and marshalls for another great event. Sobering that Malcolm confirmed it was the slowest of his 14 rounds, and I was only 3 minutes ahead of him! ... room for improvement yet then. Lastly, what happened Nick? too much workload during the week to get near last years time? </div>
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Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07573531759334080565noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8223836520212907820.post-25523227521799811192012-10-09T10:35:00.000+01:002012-10-09T10:35:20.154+01:00Saltergate Circuit - 6th October 2012<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
16 + miles of the Saltergate Circuit; the “short route” of this annual fund raising event.<br />
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After a lengthy summer break from the trails following the annual Lyke Wake Race in early July, it was great to be back out today, padding along on mixed terrain, and being supportive, once again, of the Scarborough and Ryedale Mountain Rescue Service …. Things I'll do for a plate of Pie & Peas eh. But, what better event than the annual Saltergate Circuit to indulge in?</div>
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It never takes much to tempt me back onto my favourite landscape of the North Yorkshire Moors and as today’s 16 and a bit miles of track also represents the longest outing to date of the Lady of the house then its a further milestone and another trip to remember ... fingers crossed eh?<br />
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Once again the usual suspects were out in force: Jon Steele (who is now running Ultra distances every Saturday) accompanied by Shirley (who, not for the first time, would be first lady back on the long route). Then, equally delighted to bump into Fred Clapham once again from Ripon who I hadn't seen since Swaledale! He too invited me to around three events within the next month or so; like I said … great to be back.</div>
The old adage I've used many a time of kicking off “under a cloudless sky” was never more apt than this morning … it did cloud a little later as the day wore on but a glorious blue start helped us along the tracks and onto the plantation roads through Cropton Forest. Then, following glimpses over the conifer tops, out onto the bottom of Wheeldale Moor – familiar to Lyke Wake participants – and into the wide open clear big skies and broad unbroken expanses of moorland heather and tracks.<br />
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First time I've seen the old Roman Road of Wades Causeway today and very impressive it is too but difficult to keep a steady line going and so we followed the leaders through the tussocks, on what would have been a parallel Roman pavement, eventually turning right, heading via a steep dip east to cross the Wheeldale Stepping Stones …</div>
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… Before continuing steadily upwards to Simon Howe, our highest and most exposed point of the day - both physically and visually.<br />
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Catching our breath back on the now downward and southbound run along Simon Howe Rigg, returning towards the extensive conifer plantations covering Wilden Moor, I glanced over my shoulder to the last glimpse of those wild moors…<br />
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… And my thoughts returned to my most recent summer reading material.<br />
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Robert MacFarlane wrote very observantly and movingly of The Wild Places and again most recently of The Old Ways, both of which capture my prevailing aspirations – the desire to seek out and experience the wilder aspects of our landscape – some of which is under the threat of much change. The view directly ahead at this point could identify many points contained within the modern UK landscape – the never ending regimented rows of conifers lying like a blanket in their uniformity, undulating over crests and down into ravines as far as the eye can see. Being no expert on the merits of these modern plantations and their benefits to the ecosystems and economies in general, I would just love to see, now and then, an old Oak forest perhaps with Beech, Hornbeam, even small Elms on their way back? Studying the OS Map for today’s route, the large swathes of green are mostly conifers. I only discerned two small deciduous woodland sections: The drop into Newton Dale, down Needle Point, and much later on the penultimate climb through Raygate Slack.<br />
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Churlish perhaps to mention this but it didn't detract from our enjoyment of the event as even the most monotonous of plantation tracks gave way to sudden unexpected views across the Moors.<br />
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But not before a truly dark section through Piflehead Wood – made up of, yes, ancient conifers planted tightly side by side. So close as to completely block light penetration from the canopy above us …<br />
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… and I half expected to bump into Galadriel, so different was this dark, ashy environment from the surrounding sunny open green and purple moorlands … “ I give you the light of Eärendil, our most beloved star. May it be a light for you in dark places, when all other lights go out”… </div>
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<br />... but we soon emerged unscathed, so I never required that light, and then the views remained fantastic. …<br />
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Looking North towards Fylingdales Moor and the warning station …<br />
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… Down Southwards into the Hole of Horcum itself …<br />
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<br />… Penultimately down the steep drop towards the last checkpoint tent prior to Levisham Station …<br />
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Then the station itself …<br />
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Before the final fag up Stony Moor and a boggy ankle tapping track back towards the finish at the Outdoor Centre at Stape, where we kicked off over 3 ½ hours ago.<br />
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Returning to that Pie and Peas dish, taking part in the shorter event meant we were back before the full hubbub recommenced and never was a full plate accompanied by a steaming mug of tea more welcome. Sitting in the quiet of the Stape Outdoor Centre, we reflected on a fine morning outdoors. We came through the event having been well supported throughout by the Scarborough and Ryedale Mountain Rescue team, many pairs were stationed remotely on far removed checkpoints and for their encouraging words many thanks, some checkpoints were more heavily manned such as number 5 at Wardle Rigg.<br />
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I'm sure I saw a frying pan on a hob? But no bacon sandwich was offered. perhaps that was for team sustenance and moral only – it was going to be a long day as many walkers were taking part. 150, we were informed, so, a terrific number and every penny goes towards this worthy cause. Many thanks again and I hope all went well … be back for the Ravenscar Half next year.<br />
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Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07573531759334080565noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8223836520212907820.post-70212746894268243022012-07-09T16:51:00.000+01:002013-06-28T08:57:32.441+01:00Lyke Wake Race - 7th July 2012<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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A <i>very </i>personal and private account of the 48<sup>th</sup> Annual Lyke Wake Race held on the 7<sup>th</sup> July 2012.<br />
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“This ae nighte, this ae nighte, <br />
Every nighte and alle, <br />
Fire and fleet and candle-lighte, <br />
And Christe receive thy saule”.<br />
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Probably taken from Yorkshire's oldest dialect verse, the Lyke Wake Dirge takes its name from the watching <i>wake</i> over the corpse <i>(lyke)</i>: The song tells of the soul's passage through the afterlife.<br />
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“When thou from hence away art past, <br />
Every nighte and alle, <br />
To Whinny-muir thou com'st at last; <br />
And Christe receive thy saule.”<br />
<br />
So it begins: A grim accompaniment to its Lyke Wake namesake: A long, straight, single, scrubby 40 odd mile foot race, west to east from Sheepwash Car Park above Osmotherley, across open moorland to the sea at Ravenscar above Robin Hoods Bay on the North Yorkshire Coast; half way up between Scarborough and Whitby.<br />
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That’s the bald description of the trip: However, the route, the race and the day itself remains so much more. I’ve often scratched my head to think of the most appropriate quote to encompass the event, an adjective to describe the history, the camaraderie but most importantly to convey the solitude of this day spent crossing these moors. Nothing I can find perfectly expresses the sentiments I’d wish to relate so, just for now, I’ll try and describe what it is for me to join this old, straight, narrow track.<br />
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It represents my perfect long distance event. A runner with a map, a compass, a watch and a few supplies and a lonely eastward path interspersed with small gatherings of support teams to get us safely to the cliffs in the late afternoon. There are far longer trail runs in the calendar, both more hilly and testing, and there are journeys along trails that encompass both night and day, in either winter or summer, when it’s either freezing cold or tropically hot: such extremes being part of the challenges both mentally and physically… but, the Lyke Wake challenge remains my favourite.<br />
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This annual opportunity to run the walkers route has rewarded me with my most crowning achievements, ever since I considered running away off of a road and onto a track. Being a handicap race, thus offering a staggered start, today represents a rare opportunity to test ones inner self motivation and drive against the elements.<br />
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Often running for hours alone, hopefully with the wind behind, passing through heathers and gorse both bent over east, pointing to the far distant finish way beyond the current horizon. (Incidentally, the self same gorse which ends up regularly and mercilessly ripping out boot laces for most of the last few hours before that finish!).<br />
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I’ve had mixed successes around these parts before: Over 9 and a half hours spent on a boiling hot day in 2010 and a sub 9 hour (by a full minute) in 2009 both following a 23 hour walking adventure as a schoolboy way back in 1978. It's always good to be back up here, perhaps I wont ever tire of this event? – only time will tell.<br />
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“If ever thou gavest hosen and shoon, <br />
Every nighte and alle, <br />
Sit thee down and put them on; <br />
And Christe receive thy saule.”<br />
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It's a long time since the walk was started by a local farmer, Bill Cowley, in The Shire in 1955. He “put them on”, claiming that one could walk the 40 miles (64 km) over the Moors from east to west (or vice-versa) on heather all the way except for crossing one or two roads. He concentrated on the west to east route, helped along by the normal prevailing wind direction, and gave 24 hours as a time for completion – we runners now have a full 12 hours to get across to Ravenscar.<br />
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“If hosen and shoon thou ne'er gav'st nane<br />
Every nighte and alle, <br />
The whinnes sall prick thee to the bare bane;<br />
And Christe receive thy saule.”<br />
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There certainly are sections where the “whinnes” <i>do</i> “prick thee to the bare bane” especially in July when the tops are resplendent with purpled, gnarled and scorched heather and black bracken twigs, cunningly concealed underneath the innocent fluffy white balls of the cotton blossom flowers blowing carelessly in the wind. As hard as nails to cross, this ground, even after being knee deep in soft peaty traps within the space of the previous few meters of track.<br />
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“From Whinny-muir whence thou may'st pass,<br />
Every nighte and alle, <br />
To Brig o' Dread thou com'st at last; <br />
And Christe receive thy saule.”<br />
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<span lang="EN-GB">And many sections of “thorny Moor” confound navigation, once we’ve left the Lion Inn at Blakey Ridge, but the Lion, and its surrounds contain much history and are well worthy of further note:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #274e13;"><span lang="EN-GB"> </span>Alastair Gilmour wrote of the Lion in <i>The Journal</i> in February 2007…</span></div>
“They don't come much closer to heaven. Standing alone like its neighbouring waymarkers and cairns, the 16<sup>th</sup> century freehouse of the Lion Inn at Blakey Ridge in the North York Moors National Park is reckoned to be the fourth-highest pub in England. Its elevation at 1,325ft above sea level, overlooking vast tracts of heather-clad moorland that melt into green and fertile valley floors, is heavenly, as is its choice of cask-conditioned beers, its extensive menu and the cosy intimacy of its bar, two lounges and three restaurant areas. Celestial choirs may be in short supply on a day-to-day basis, but who knows after a couple of pints of Theakston Old Peculier sipped in front of the tinkling embers of a coal fire?<br />
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Who knows indeed! But on race day we’re restricted to a Celestial bowl of rice pudding and apricots, sitting under canvas in the car park, which do indeed hit the spot after the early morning grind. Some 15 odd miles since the start and we’ve climbed Carlton Bank, skirted around Cringle Moor beneath the Wain Stones, tumbled down Hasty Bank then up over Clay Bank finally reaching Bloworth Crossing via the northern end of Urra Moor and the right turn onto the interminable winding of the old mining railway track and a final flat, mind numbing 5 miles to the Pub.<br />
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<br />
“If ever thou gav'st silver and gold,<br />
Every nighte and alle,<br />
At t' Brig o' Dread thou'lt find foothold,<br />
And Christe receive thy saule.”<br />
<br />
Not carried any “silver and gold” along, but certainly have to thank the old Iron industry for providing us with a runnable section along one of the many old tramlines now adapted for use by all of us outdoor types. Built around 1860, this being one of the lines abundant around Rosedale and Farndale, now long since redundant, to transport ironstone ores to Teesside for smelting back in the late nineteenth century. It remains a very decent thoroughfare; providing that decent foothold so taking care of both the Cleveland Way and Lyke Wake Walkers, keeping us all going, relentlessly, forward.<br />
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<br />
Returning to the present…<br />
<br />
Hitherto, the route has taken us through quiet lanes, up and down dappled woodland paths and across verdant green fields. Accompanied by the casual stare of cattle, the buzz of bees and all manner of farm and woodland scents, this is all comfortably and knowingly rural: Yellow and green chequerboard lowland countryside at its' most finest. These expanses of patchwork fields stretch away as far as the eye can see, if those same eyes could penetrate the surprisingly thick blanket of fog caused by the recent deluge to sweep the country. They would also gaze far across to the low, dark brooding Dales entrances way away westwards, where clouds often meet the tops and no space exists between them. However, early this morning, with the dawn sun rising through the early mists into our faces, it was our shadows that streamed away west, playing catch-up behind, seemingly unable to keep up with the adrenaline fuelled, over exuberance of a probable “too quick” start. <br />
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<o:p><br /></o:p>The true, dark and primeval nature of today, and the whole event for me, though, doesn’t even commence until we turn our backs on that soft Dales view, leaving these comfort zones and communities safely behind and heading away onwards and eastwards into the heavily foreboding wilds beyond Blakey.<br />
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<o:p><br /></o:p>The very names of the dark and distant moors and summits move me: Sturdy Bank, Great Fryup Head, Wheeldale Howe, Raven Stones, Howl Moor, Crag Stone Rigg, High Moor, Jugger Howe and Stony Marl. No time here for a faint heart, nor to linger amongst the hairbells, it's time to take them all on, one-by-one.<br />
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<o:p><br /></o:p>“For what we are about to receive” I muttered to myself once, and inevitably, as I took the track left, amongst the heathers, and off the Danby Road. From the Lion at Blakey a rare but too brief stretch of this road took us past the Fryup turning and, from there further eastwards, onto Wheeldale where the route remained <b><i>undefined</i></b>; broadly following the boundary stones to the Blue Man-i-th'-Moss standing stone then along the watershed to the Wheeldale Road 10½ miles further along.<o:p></o:p><br />
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Undefined here means: Bog / water / uncertain footing / getting wet / being knee deep in peaty pools / possibly losing a shoe / possibly both / getting lost / being reduced to helplessness / taking wide detours – and for a full 10½ miles. However, if dry, this can be the most beautiful wild country in all England.<o:p></o:p><br />
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“But if silver and gold thou never gav'st nane,<br />
Every nighte and alle,<br />
Down thou tumblest to Hell flame,<br />
And Christe receive thy saule.”<br />
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<o:p><br /></o:p>In the middle distance, there remains the target of Fylingdales Moor and its' early warning system that will be passed soon enough. It has been squatting on the horizon seemingly forever and its nearness hints that the penultimate stage is approaching. No longer the giant golf balls of old but a short stubby compact affair, fenced off in MOD land being constantly patrolled as if to confirm its significance. It looks back, impassively, yet defiantly, at the moors and onwards to the sea. A modern day Sphinx; always the same grave, blank face of a structure, from whichever direction you see it and whatever the weather throws at it.<br />
<o:p><br /></o:p>
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“The road goes ever on and on …” sang someone once long ago, and, completing the 3½ miles from Wheeldale to Ellerbeck, it begins to feel like it always will. By now, the trail is a narrow knife through the moors, almost arrow straight towards the finish at Ravenscar. No wider than a sheep trod in parts, rough sided, ankle deep and smooth bottomed. How many walkers and runners have trod this `ere path over the years and what was their story? And … did they trip over maddeningly as I do; now the tiredness is setting in?<br />
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<span lang="EN-GB">“From Brig o' Dread whence thou may'st pass,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">Every nighte and alle, <br />To Purgatory fire thou com'st at last; <br />And Christe receive thy saule.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">Again upwards, over Ellerbeck, across reed beds and through the last of the marshland sections, passing Fylingdales on the right; the 2 miles to Lilla Cross and down the 4 hard miles to Jugger Howe gives a glimpse, after all these hours of the Sea. The now boulder strewn, mostly submerged, scrubby path leads on relentlessly, easily tripping up the runner whose concentration has started to drift and who dares to think of the finish. It’s mid afternoon with many a day-tripper and walker frequenting these last two sections. Some applaud with a kind word… “Where’ve you come from?”, “How Far!”, “You’ll make it”, “Isn’t he sweating a lot!” … I’ve had all these and more “Dig Deep Boys!! Was another particular favourite once climbing the cruel stone flagged stairs out of the Jugger Howe ravine itself and when putting one foot in front of the other was the cause of almost too much anguish to bear.</span></div>
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Heading towards the end of the day, with the same sun now waning behind, casting our shadows ever further ahead, never now to be caught up with, those same shadows drag us reluctantly and wearily forward is if imploring us to complete, with dignity, that one full and final effort.<br />
<br />
The final checkpoint in the car park just prior to crossing the busy A171 coast road confirms we’ve arrived back into civilisation and the last section is upon us. A straight 1½ miles up to the radiomast cresting the summit of the moor above the curving sweep of Robin Hoods Bay and you know the end is nigh: The emotional trip for me is over; a steady jog then a walk up the gently sloping stony path to the ridge is accompanied by the ever diminishing distant rumble of motor cars on the road along with the final echoes of those last words of encouragement. The isolation, the desolation, the solitude, the entire canvas of the adventure is now spread away into the distance far, far behind. <br />
<o:p><br /></o:p>
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Just as happened over 8 hours earlier, when the fog banks rose to give a glimpse of the moors and the start of a beautiful clear day, so the curtain of mist once more folded neatly behind, closing off the view both ways, slamming the door on the views and once more we’re fogbound. Destined to start and finish engulfed within an ashen grey shroud.<br />
<br />
And the Finish at the hotel is right there in front, down and away through Ravenscar, atop the headland with the blue sea stretching away to infinity beyond. Look closely, through narrowed salt encrusted eyes and you may just make out the finishing tapes fluttering at the entrance to Raven Hall. Too late, todays` fog has swallowed the whole.<br />
<br />
“If meat or drink thou ne'er gav'st nane, <br />
Every nighte and alle, <br />
The fire will burn thee to the bare bane; <br />
And Christe receive thy saule.”<br />
<br />
Both meat and drink will be very readily available in a wee while; just a run down through the long grass of the last couple of fields followed by a toddle along the lane and a final left turn and straight downhill towards the gates of the Raven Hall Hotel and the conclusion to the day. The fire that'll “burn thee” is now generally located in most of the muscle groups I possess below the waist.<br />
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Then suddenly, through the gates, a sharp right turn through the copse of trees and it’s over.<br />
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Race fact of the day: 8 hours 58 minutes since I skipped out of the car park and a personal best by a full minute (AND finishing 12th overall !!!!). At times today I thought I’d be faster than that, then at others I wasn’t sure if I’d get a personal worst time so on balance …. Well I’m delighted to be finished.<br />
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Within a minute, as in many long distance events, all appears to seize up: Feet, ankles, knees (or is it just mine?), Got the T shirt along with my memento of the day. The running shoes are off revealing candle white grimy toed feet attached to mud and peat stained weary legs – always surprising how shattered we’ve all managed to become. Many congratulations by all to the completers and by us all to the support teams and fellow competitors. Paul Sherwood and his team, a few whom are now familiar faces, have really encouraged me to see it through today and so once again a personal thank-you to all. Finally, a handshake or two to friends old and new accompanied by a promise to “See you next year”. I really hope I keep this promise out of all of the immediate post race statements I make: You’ve got to do it, live it, take part in it and ultimately <i>become</i> part of it. I’m just another traveller on this small insignificant trail across a spot of open country somewhere in the North of England … However, to me; it remains just so much more than that.<br />
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<br />
“This ae nighte, this ae nighte, <br />
Every nighte and alle, <br />
Fire and fleet and candle-lighte, <br />
And Christe receive thy saule.”<br />
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Full results for this years race can be found <a href="http://www.lykewakewalk.co.uk/">here</a> courtesy of Paul Sherwood - Race Director.</div>
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Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07573531759334080565noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8223836520212907820.post-90254258297056556602012-06-11T14:27:00.000+01:002012-06-19T16:54:00.062+01:00Swaledale Marathon - 9th June 2012<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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How did I manage to record exactly the same time as last year - 4 hours 25 minutes - completing this cracking 24 miler around the eastern end of Swaledale taking in Reeth, Langthwaite, Punchard Head, Gunnerside Gill, Gunnerside and a multitude of trail types?<br />
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<br />
Simples! I got a little better through experience, an improvement in general fitness and chuck in a bit o` weight loss. But, these gains were countered by the route being a whole lot harder today, very warm, very wet on the top and boggy tracks that swallowed whole legs if you weren`t careful. The positives matched the negatives, one cancelled t`other out: result - stalemate.<br />
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Try as I might at the end, the tanks were empty and nothing was going to make any difference. Last year 78th, this year 49th in the field so I'll take that result any day.<br />
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Driving into the jaws of the Northern Dales, at around 7.00am, offered little suggestion of what weather we were going to be faced with. The early morning sun knifed through heavy clouds giving some outstanding views, especially across the opening to Wensleydale...<br />
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There was, however, plenty of heavy black clouds which portended possible trouble ahead - if only we knew just what we`d eventually receive!.<br />
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Back to the car park field at Grinton and a glimpse up to Fremington Edge confirmed to me:<br />
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<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li>The sun was going to be out a good deal</li>
<li>This is going to be a great day out in the hills</li>
<li>That the climb to the Edge is as steep as ever</li>
<li>That the tops are going to be soaking; what with the level of the Swale behind us.</li>
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Then the Tickhill day tripping "pretty boys" rocked up in force! (Looked like, perhaps, we ought to be working the doors!). Badged up, kitted up, Rich and Adrian opted to travel as a pair and Tom (Bright blue T shirt) would be accompanying me.</div>
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To the business end: Got an excellent field placing and kicked off up the track, bang on 9.30am, well placed to get a good start ahead of most of the field. I still get a kick out of the photo opportunities and couldn`t resist a snap at this great view of Reeth and then, higher up the rocky path, further down Swaledale itself...</div>
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But I think I overcooked what was, for me, a fast start; barely able to catch my breath whilst bowling along the edge, no stopping now, and then down the steep, steep grass slope and tracks into Langthwaite. However, 55 mins later to checkpoint 1, and I`m ahead of a PB schedule - but not ahead of Tom who has just cruised past me on his first outing, over any terrain, greater than 12 miles!. The kid looks strong, I muttered to myself, and tried to hang onto his coat tails but to no avail so I dug in and ground out the miles along Arkengarthdale towards checkpoint 2 and a refill of water and a very welcome piece of chocolate. It made a pleasant change from warm gels and jelly babies which are my staple on these days.<br />
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Looking up, I could just make out the path snaking away up towards Great Punchard Head on the far horizon...<br />
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And along this winding track I was caught by Fred Clapham and Ray from Ripon. Fred and I have passed a few miles together before and enjoyed a catch up but Ray was keen to press on and they both gave me the slip prior to Checkpoint 3. I did, however, catch Tom who finally showed a human side by actually slowing down a little. Then, looking back from whence we came, a chance for another panorama of this trail...<br />
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<br />
Before the bog hopping began!.<br />
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This proved to be the toughest section for me as I went straight knee deep into a boggy section and was lucky to emerge with both shoes on. The constant search for footing and a decent line taxed me to the hilt but I managed to keep a plod going and navigated pretty well over and down and never was a Jam sandwich for me and a battenberg for Tom such a welcome sight at Level House. Climbing the lunar landscape up to the self check above Gunnerside Gill enabled a last swig from the warm bottles, a few more jelly babies and then, for me, what proved the best bit.<br />
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A beautiful track on the East Side of the Gill: Grassy, relatively flat and with good footing enabled my group to hammer along, down to Winterings then straight down through dry stone wall gaps and green fields to the stream and out into the sunlight of Gunnerside to applause from the Pub garden. Fantastic section! which was really good to run through and at this point, I was a full 5 minutes ahead of last years time. No time to dawdle, just get the tally pinched and we were straight back out of the village and the grassy climb up and back towards Reeth.<br />
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Looking back down to the head of Swaledale reminded me why this is such a great event - fantastic mix of testing terrain, both wet and dry, hard and soft, climbs and descents and long flat grass tracks and onto the contour to Blades. A steady jog through the self clip and down the road to the final manned checkpoint at Surrender Bridge saw quite a bunch of us - around 10 in all spread over perhaps 400 metres and the finish was near so we were all straight through on the final push.<br />
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The sharp down and up of <i>that </i>little ravine finally did for Tom and with us all pushing for the end, Skelgate Lane and the last self clip came and went in a blur, and not a moment too soon - this time the nettles had been cropped and so at least we could see the broken ground before being spilled out onto the lane with Reeth at our fingertips.<br />
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Always a great reception when landing back and today's was no exception. Great to see my Tickhill clubmate, Phil Robertshaw, this time as a spectator to the race in the Buck Hotel beer garden - true to his word raising a glass as I trotted by and round to the finish.<br />
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And, 4.25 again!, amazing but try as I might I just couldn't squeeze that PB out at any cost. I'd lost the 5 minute gain somewhere in the mix but can honestly say I gave it my all.<br />
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Even more amazing was Tom getting back in a time of 4.30! and for his first time out over 12 miles then what a seriously terrific effort: definitely the last time I'll be finishing ahead of him. Rich followed us 10 minutes later with a nagging looking knee injury that held him back and Adrian got caught out in the rain on his sub 5.30 time round. He was disappointed but for no valid reason: This was a tough day and he had recently, along with Rich, done a 3 Peaks of Snowdon, Scafell Pike and Ben Nevis. Time to take a breather?. And, the Heavens had opened! and I've rarely seen such a downpour from what was a clear blue sky.<br />
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The remaining Tickhill contingent, who I sadly missed at the start this time, and who were out on the course caught the fearful brunt of the rain - great credit to all for getting back! It wasn't this bad last year ... honest.<br />
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Loved it again, a big thanks to the Swaledale Outdoor Club for organising a brilliant day for us all and ... a personal thanks to Christine at Tickhill for getting us all into the event - yet again - and, there's always next year for that PB!. (Yes, I did notice that you did beat your last years time ... yes you Mrs Karen Gregory!)<br />
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Full results are <a href="http://www.swaledaleoutdoorclub.org.uk/swaledale-marathon.html">here</a></div>
</div>Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07573531759334080565noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8223836520212907820.post-4989717724674944422012-05-30T14:03:00.000+01:002012-06-07T10:20:02.920+01:00The Chalkland Way - 28th May 2012<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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“40 odd miles of Yorkshire Wolds in
around 8 hours, <i>and,</i> in this weather?
You’re `avin a laff”</div>
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<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;">
<span lang="EN-GB">And so it would prove, in many ways …</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFthW1Z7fuHK8TA1RZdX7zLoRpITeTw4o3NwoktKODYWTxmUTsmRPSjQRHIzP5z-iH985z18gFmKjzt7G8XUrCWLTAkNOZDoFORris3YfhHiaRbDIdqQLMslHB08Y2FbVzAYu-OvBMwHU/s1600/Copy_of_The_Chalklands_Way+best.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="452" qba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFthW1Z7fuHK8TA1RZdX7zLoRpITeTw4o3NwoktKODYWTxmUTsmRPSjQRHIzP5z-iH985z18gFmKjzt7G8XUrCWLTAkNOZDoFORris3YfhHiaRbDIdqQLMslHB08Y2FbVzAYu-OvBMwHU/s640/Copy_of_The_Chalklands_Way+best.jpg" width="640" /></a>Devised in 1994 by Ray Wallis, and
funded by the East Yorkshire and Derwent Area of the Ramblers` Association, the
Route is a grand circular of Britains` most northerly chalk outcrop: Noted for
their green, dry valleys, this route around the Wolds is no stroll through the
park – as Ray acknowledged in his excellent leaflet of the round “ The next
time someone expresses the view that East Yorkshire is flat, let them walk up
some of the valley-sides on this walk – they may then revise their opinion.
They won`t argue, they’ll be out of breath”. Firstly, I must offer my huge
thanks to Ray for providing me with all the information required for this
attempt – my only criticism was that he didn’t re-inforce to me how hard a
challenge this would actually prove to be.<br />
<br /></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjft3WS5drNZODNRtJWapM6zY28e6W2Vb3YoOwebyrr-2jUN2MEWCHAkjE6zEPIYe7wjnAWCmvUxJqvPYep1Vn61BFVWyVMqbtmTspRBxRkwIV8xPvXE4RWXuraSpewYy4KCBstb1WEJRk/s1600/Chalkland+Way+-+May+2012+002+small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjft3WS5drNZODNRtJWapM6zY28e6W2Vb3YoOwebyrr-2jUN2MEWCHAkjE6zEPIYe7wjnAWCmvUxJqvPYep1Vn61BFVWyVMqbtmTspRBxRkwIV8xPvXE4RWXuraSpewYy4KCBstb1WEJRk/s320/Chalkland+Way+-+May+2012+002+small.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
“If you carry on at that steady pace
you’ll soon be in Fangfoss” smiled the dogwalker, looking me up and down.</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;">
<span lang="EN-GB">Fangfoss! I didn’t even have that on my
map, what the bloody `ell am I doing on the Fangfoss road, I’m trying to get to
Bugthorpe…. Was my immediate reaction, It actually came out like …</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Really, and so this isn’t the Youlthorpe
Lane then?”. I must retrace back to Bishop Wilton which I left 15 minutes, and
just over a mile ago, and so muttering expletives, that got louder as I put
further distance between us, I left the walkers to continue their stroll down a
quiet sunlit lane … obviously on their way to Fangfoss.</span><br />
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrKUbFPzA1swdfEyLGy28Umx1W6ne_lJvmpnADOocMMFyngHuBUG5gRiJv0zVH9a8LmalsSfiDeZ63Dx_Qw5y9c55H8PuH09LROkIT5fjLUVw9Q79kBpV-exkOiAf7-mtByZz_JLwwTJw/s1600/Chalkland+Way+-+May+2012+028+small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrKUbFPzA1swdfEyLGy28Umx1W6ne_lJvmpnADOocMMFyngHuBUG5gRiJv0zVH9a8LmalsSfiDeZ63Dx_Qw5y9c55H8PuH09LROkIT5fjLUVw9Q79kBpV-exkOiAf7-mtByZz_JLwwTJw/s320/Chalkland+Way+-+May+2012+028+small.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
What a faux pas! and I’d been doing
quite well to this point – navigating smartly around this cracking circular in
clear blue skies and all in reasonable time. Lesson to self: When cutting maps
up, don’t even think of missing a section out, no matter how small, there are
consequences. Small diversions appear as if by magic and afore you know it
you’ve added miles onto an already long drawn out run.</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;">
<span lang="EN-GB">A few hours earlier, and with the threat
of another boiling hot day to come, I’d decided to kick off at Wetwang as early
as possible and so managed a 6.00am dash out of the village straight onto a
clean track through young corn before the labyrinth took me through rape and
further corn fields, back lanes and tracks heading south west towards Huggate
and onto Pocklington.</span><br />
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7cHkFDbMjVgSQ7Bm6I-wPMntRBFkUfNDK4Gg9wEYE3SW73L-uWADQw98AHR-wzR7WmaKIZL9iLQoMxGfwAR-tZO0eW6hWJGSMAP6QR47KdNIKdI8TiqXzq29PqOHaf1x0IijVJvcVTG0/s1600/Chalkland+Way+-+May+2012+004+small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7cHkFDbMjVgSQ7Bm6I-wPMntRBFkUfNDK4Gg9wEYE3SW73L-uWADQw98AHR-wzR7WmaKIZL9iLQoMxGfwAR-tZO0eW6hWJGSMAP6QR47KdNIKdI8TiqXzq29PqOHaf1x0IijVJvcVTG0/s320/Chalkland+Way+-+May+2012+004+small.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwj7s9vaEW8cGZOSG_cRK_XieweLPz2iErmS9y94GK-Rq4w1BLpA5ygMwcWWCn6cC-zc_jIeY8GSNnhf5Yn30-hXB9GGQQnxEA-LX2kAIeUVTreerJ1kwHvZxpfNVgVEAcvOn6nhESmBM/s1600/Chalkland+Way+-+May+2012+044+rape.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwj7s9vaEW8cGZOSG_cRK_XieweLPz2iErmS9y94GK-Rq4w1BLpA5ygMwcWWCn6cC-zc_jIeY8GSNnhf5Yn30-hXB9GGQQnxEA-LX2kAIeUVTreerJ1kwHvZxpfNVgVEAcvOn6nhESmBM/s320/Chalkland+Way+-+May+2012+044+rape.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdSClU93D248RbM9Dt7MrbbNNZiAG89jT_1SnU94wz4njRJqDTE592DyMgt5GpBV0mPD72EOka1-SmSwjfijHA7lJH8sF9VdR9GbJDENHXbk4fpssxmQZVWct8OJfMW-h61GDMzivfrLY/s1600/Chalkland+Way+-+May+2012+045+tunnel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdSClU93D248RbM9Dt7MrbbNNZiAG89jT_1SnU94wz4njRJqDTE592DyMgt5GpBV0mPD72EOka1-SmSwjfijHA7lJH8sF9VdR9GbJDENHXbk4fpssxmQZVWct8OJfMW-h61GDMzivfrLY/s320/Chalkland+Way+-+May+2012+045+tunnel.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Apart from a couple of dips at the Osmotherley Phoenix and The Lyke Wake Race, much further north, I’d never run any Yorkshire Wolds
trails before and was genuinely surprised how stunning the scenery appeared.
Lot’s and lots of Dales – around the whole route, 13 in all and a few more to
look across at! And the striking difference from the <i>other </i>Yorkshire Dales was that none of them have a river at the
bottom! Very strange, but very different, and perfectly pleasant to run along perfectly
green tracks with flower covered steep sides and the odd tree to cast a little
dapple.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfCgocc2hxYcpAEXl2d7JdkSFwx5CCYPtvzzshvHOY8nHzsc9HdxCe0JwAenK_vgq3cERNVsKFwYM_7z171S3g0oGIuO75fz1Nyl6OCEnIBUDehpRvwSB64LgyqE4J-4eZRyj-eid5zmA/s1600/Chalkland+Way+-+May+2012+005+big.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfCgocc2hxYcpAEXl2d7JdkSFwx5CCYPtvzzshvHOY8nHzsc9HdxCe0JwAenK_vgq3cERNVsKFwYM_7z171S3g0oGIuO75fz1Nyl6OCEnIBUDehpRvwSB64LgyqE4J-4eZRyj-eid5zmA/s320/Chalkland+Way+-+May+2012+005+big.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaFYUBIu1gtleQSD-1WR8AwwUOmS4eIqJTWHu9ovLaEqqbOHVJcRb7fO8Qw0pGOeZ-8ySXSVbEJ73X9cyQ4nOXvMsNGVfLDjBOxAx1fA0cbKMgOA_4iSVCBEEG5Izbtw1ODpw4gtPwqtk/s1600/Chalkland+Way+-+May+2012+010+small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaFYUBIu1gtleQSD-1WR8AwwUOmS4eIqJTWHu9ovLaEqqbOHVJcRb7fO8Qw0pGOeZ-8ySXSVbEJ73X9cyQ4nOXvMsNGVfLDjBOxAx1fA0cbKMgOA_4iSVCBEEG5Izbtw1ODpw4gtPwqtk/s320/Chalkland+Way+-+May+2012+010+small.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGUOgLYJPJ2xFeBHJ2ayhYXdH6CZQ3srXlkzA7dYcRBgvDo4HwMVET8o9uvuFNrcSFQCxw0PbXF2uVePpaEhgS3sC_CvzrXoeJvvhrkPcTL_Lj2WzUrK1dWNrihtDXXqoxmzCzMav9T50/s1600/Chalkland+Way+-+May+2012+011+small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGUOgLYJPJ2xFeBHJ2ayhYXdH6CZQ3srXlkzA7dYcRBgvDo4HwMVET8o9uvuFNrcSFQCxw0PbXF2uVePpaEhgS3sC_CvzrXoeJvvhrkPcTL_Lj2WzUrK1dWNrihtDXXqoxmzCzMav9T50/s320/Chalkland+Way+-+May+2012+011+small.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;">
<span lang="EN-GB">With a bright and early start, the
fields were resplendent with rabbits and hares, even Deer watched me lope along
the paths, but this brightness soon turned to warmth which quickly increased to
heat and with clouds as rare as hens’ teeth, it was going to be steaming later.</span><br />
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span><br />
<span lang="EN-GB">And, there were spectacular dips and climbs, none more so than crossing Sylvan Dale!. Firstly down some chalk stairs...</span><br />
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFySh_U7EC4S19IPWmtc_wpqz2GGxj87NdA357_Vx4_vHOSiiqkfZX2yWiu-V1QHV6gi9L-jWQ-4_EO_Sv0dEVRsww4Mlg-Xv_pb7SQSPlFFfwapZpZGsQXn_tYaFxt51ouux7YIqY_jQ/s1600/Chalkland+Way+-+May+2012+014+small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFySh_U7EC4S19IPWmtc_wpqz2GGxj87NdA357_Vx4_vHOSiiqkfZX2yWiu-V1QHV6gi9L-jWQ-4_EO_Sv0dEVRsww4Mlg-Xv_pb7SQSPlFFfwapZpZGsQXn_tYaFxt51ouux7YIqY_jQ/s320/Chalkland+Way+-+May+2012+014+small.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span><br />
<span lang="EN-GB">Then, once down the cliff then back up t`other side.</span><br />
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPBxkmXzejn2yAA41RnjYp_KNGaSBrTeYvPuyEotumk-veky_VxINg_3g_gAbROqOV8ek1dYeXL7XiJdBu6cyYnXWR0YvTyAor9Fpk-fD4CxLikQsN_qxBUwBXRHH_sWd0s1Sr3DskcAY/s1600/Chalkland+Way+-+May+2012+013+small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPBxkmXzejn2yAA41RnjYp_KNGaSBrTeYvPuyEotumk-veky_VxINg_3g_gAbROqOV8ek1dYeXL7XiJdBu6cyYnXWR0YvTyAor9Fpk-fD4CxLikQsN_qxBUwBXRHH_sWd0s1Sr3DskcAY/s320/Chalkland+Way+-+May+2012+013+small.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span><br />
Completing unsupported rounds of 40 ish miles
and more of country trails means carrying a decent amount of provisions around
in the pack and I kicked off with 4 bottles of water and 1 of electrolyte mix
along with all manner of gels / bars &c … not one bottle too light as it
proved as I had two refills of two before the day was out.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBxBzoQHeoa4sgElFuO-cZTtBk2LyLdAxtnljnpjjkTQqH9XYPcJdZl-wvOFDXXh19ZoNReVDW4BX66IooSpgjfRpBN99xoRoQKMU36SQz3CGnieHFiEJ4ozSX1hEnHCQOEkmst8YK07g/s1600/Chalkland+Way+-+May+2012+021+small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBxBzoQHeoa4sgElFuO-cZTtBk2LyLdAxtnljnpjjkTQqH9XYPcJdZl-wvOFDXXh19ZoNReVDW4BX66IooSpgjfRpBN99xoRoQKMU36SQz3CGnieHFiEJ4ozSX1hEnHCQOEkmst8YK07g/s320/Chalkland+Way+-+May+2012+021+small.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;">
<span lang="EN-GB">Leaving Pocklington, heading North West,
the trails started to become overgrown and a new obstacle presented itself –
head high nettles and overgrown thistles proved interesting especially with
shorts and ankle length thorlos! … Can still feel the nettle stings today! And
guys, it does focus the mind when you’re stung there! Yes there, right there,
yup, on the end …</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;">
<span lang="EN-GB">Regaining height, heading back north was
hot work but the shade around Great Givendale was very welcome...</span><br />
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhitmzhK4gKrNo6YhEczfZh-uvSA0HA7UOH3Q-wy5qm7CZPrCze4tA4jftfuiP3NIkx02hJOr1K-Nj-JgOtoyAKw5WCmoUCGOxIX5YWW4DGGXlVBlCpJOisBzGfHUa8NHfafTk6ZpntvfM/s1600/Chalkland+Way+-+May+2012+026+small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhitmzhK4gKrNo6YhEczfZh-uvSA0HA7UOH3Q-wy5qm7CZPrCze4tA4jftfuiP3NIkx02hJOr1K-Nj-JgOtoyAKw5WCmoUCGOxIX5YWW4DGGXlVBlCpJOisBzGfHUa8NHfafTk6ZpntvfM/s320/Chalkland+Way+-+May+2012+026+small.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
as was the site
of a beautiful little church...</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;">
<span lang="EN-GB">Then left and outwards and onwards to
where two maps were supposed to join seemlessly. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;">
<span lang="EN-GB">And, once the nonsense of Bishop Wilton
and poor mapping was behind me, the steady climb back up the chalky hills
recommenced with a vengence. Having been nettled to death and having my own
personal swarm of midges to pace me, the interminable heat and field after
field of baked rubble reduced me to a hobble … 5.30 for 26 ½ miles...</span><br />
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOu4-68cM9Wo6OnJz7-2j0KM2dpGc5tRukhE55Mi0Hu5JOjsG9OtgCGgMAyKqnlITEhOvCoF5lmHO4FDswzmM62mht59Ivpp8xQpu4S4N5oj72lydpETwgLnegsm58PeOIAn6C7T66quE/s1600/Chalkland+Way+-+May+2012+047+nettles.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOu4-68cM9Wo6OnJz7-2j0KM2dpGc5tRukhE55Mi0Hu5JOjsG9OtgCGgMAyKqnlITEhOvCoF5lmHO4FDswzmM62mht59Ivpp8xQpu4S4N5oj72lydpETwgLnegsm58PeOIAn6C7T66quE/s320/Chalkland+Way+-+May+2012+047+nettles.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqIfqM95fOERxYki0yIRTPyJj02nTjk4gHr-Cqs3WPCUGNKWaPncQ98fvBe3RYu6A-dbbFZB-Mb_XOi5_KTj7du_ATPM9L0F7MTcUKSrx8c_ULr-KwaTFb7NG39MM2VlRd5PDTzGjsD6U/s1600/Chalkland+Way+-+May+2012+046+bugthorpe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqIfqM95fOERxYki0yIRTPyJj02nTjk4gHr-Cqs3WPCUGNKWaPncQ98fvBe3RYu6A-dbbFZB-Mb_XOi5_KTj7du_ATPM9L0F7MTcUKSrx8c_ULr-KwaTFb7NG39MM2VlRd5PDTzGjsD6U/s320/Chalkland+Way+-+May+2012+046+bugthorpe.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
... and the
steepest climb of the round ahead; so, so steep up Deepdale that the turf was
slipping off the incline!<br />
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhARDG0jEvvLzk1KjPlcmP0vveb713pMrkFPpeWETrn86eSD-w3wj_5f9u9roP3RCRMA1VEhXgVCYUPsHtrukb04ZajSGAQMeI1EXl97r_PBgxjTxK_7Ujws_w9JIqQzYS3T08aHYPlkj4/s1600/Chalkland+Way+-+May+2012+032+small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhARDG0jEvvLzk1KjPlcmP0vveb713pMrkFPpeWETrn86eSD-w3wj_5f9u9roP3RCRMA1VEhXgVCYUPsHtrukb04ZajSGAQMeI1EXl97r_PBgxjTxK_7Ujws_w9JIqQzYS3T08aHYPlkj4/s320/Chalkland+Way+-+May+2012+032+small.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;">
The sun poured its` heat down onto the
chalk and reflected blindingly, the long searched for welcome cooling breeze
never arrived and, although visibly stunning, the high temperatures were truly
tiring – this is what it’s all about: The mind-games, the interminable trails,
the will to complete at any cost? .. What cost?<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDDkVIrVGUZKmxB9bT3YQszRBqtu_qRlrVYeIJr51D_UQhHeDpgR0wVrRIIBOYA-W_g5jlxXXyS2qBvJw31EZJGWu4K3w4iVb_TH4Il9_9QeitZ37lI_1iAw-wqbf3SOH-ZIzg42Hy9b8/s1600/Chalkland+Way+-+May+2012+033+small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDDkVIrVGUZKmxB9bT3YQszRBqtu_qRlrVYeIJr51D_UQhHeDpgR0wVrRIIBOYA-W_g5jlxXXyS2qBvJw31EZJGWu4K3w4iVb_TH4Il9_9QeitZ37lI_1iAw-wqbf3SOH-ZIzg42Hy9b8/s320/Chalkland+Way+-+May+2012+033+small.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;">
<span lang="EN-GB">A flat farm track for once and tarmac!,
and an opportunity to break into a trot, crossing the Fridaythorpe road and then
thankfully, a very welcome downhill, albeit again without a breath of air
through Mill Dale into Thixendale... </span><br />
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSft8wHrqfO7lpoImI_jCp7DNK3NK4HNfQM5lEkkKrS8vZ5Jg4l0r_lFgX4Sgi6sI_IGy6OQ6JWFYI2KdULJlNaHfG0IEJpSxH83ELW62mBs6GirG2AOuoo1-Gn7wE7jToARE9m8noFcU/s1600/Chalkland+Way+-+May+2012+034+small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSft8wHrqfO7lpoImI_jCp7DNK3NK4HNfQM5lEkkKrS8vZ5Jg4l0r_lFgX4Sgi6sI_IGy6OQ6JWFYI2KdULJlNaHfG0IEJpSxH83ELW62mBs6GirG2AOuoo1-Gn7wE7jToARE9m8noFcU/s320/Chalkland+Way+-+May+2012+034+small.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span><br />
... and more dry valleys. This time I was
severely spent and hobbling into Thixendale village and I had to consider my
options.</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;">
<span lang="EN-GB">Water from the bottles had tasted of
warm plastic for the best part of the last two hours … and they were now empty.
Sitting on upturned beer barrels in the shade behind the (closed) Cross Keys at
Thixendale, I watched forlornly as the delivery man appeared. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Do you have an outside tap I could use
please?” I begged of the Landlord</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Sure, there it is” and they both
watched, amused, as I emptied two fresh bottles over my head, drank one more
and then refilled three for the rest of the trip.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;">
<span lang="EN-GB">Whether it was the cold water, the
opportunity for the first sit down for over 30 miles, or the little shade
afforded by the buildings then it worked and I banished the thoughts – which
had become very real – of taking a shortcut back to the car! No, I’d started this
so I’ll finish this; I didn’t want a DNF even though it was a solo attempt –
and no-one would ever know.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“That water went down well!” remarked
the Landlord. I thanked him whilst thinking “If you’d let me into that Bar,
I’ll demostrate exhibition standard drinking from any pump you’d care to point
to!” perhaps it was for the better that he remains closed during Monday
lunchtimes.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;">
<span lang="EN-GB">Refreshed, revitalised, refocussed and
relieved to have found the final drive to continue, I started the last loop up
around Raishthorpe Wold via the Centenary Way Track up and away up through
Court Dale and further great views across Honey Dale...</span><br />
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVd8XFRa30xpAM2TNb2Cr4iBRc22GOvC2j3L8nxfMOzPSGmK0aCwGUM_4tWKcZBYQ1X2AsfUUTF5ZIcwWAgNQQRhB232E7H1ujALeYdghmW0YNsnvGJlNgrNLdABcJwpMQiYrHrcn4sSI/s1600/Chalkland+Way+-+May+2012+035+small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVd8XFRa30xpAM2TNb2Cr4iBRc22GOvC2j3L8nxfMOzPSGmK0aCwGUM_4tWKcZBYQ1X2AsfUUTF5ZIcwWAgNQQRhB232E7H1ujALeYdghmW0YNsnvGJlNgrNLdABcJwpMQiYrHrcn4sSI/s320/Chalkland+Way+-+May+2012+035+small.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span><br />
before bumping into
another obstacle! Ewes and Lambs generally run away from
haggard looking runners but these four Tupps weren’t moving from their shady
spot by the styal so I had to climb the fence, getting nettled yet again in the
process.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;">
After the sweeping views north over
Wharram Percy Wold it was finally southwards down a flat smooth road to Fimber,
passing yet more Dales: Fairy Dale …<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;">
<span lang="EN-GB">And the unbelievably vibrant green Whay Dale complete with a nut brown herd of cows.</span><br />
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPukuHQy7MXoeyb8OLZ9m7RIze03KNnPWGfVpIy5F0nDFvlmNsAs9szbf1_Wlk40JjfLPvNq-5p1S4y_Yd0YnZBYvcv_uLsjY9sSnt38c_EmddihtbWYZxXxwiM6mkwF3RDZx9Jhzwt2k/s1600/Chalkland+Way+-+May+2012+038+small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPukuHQy7MXoeyb8OLZ9m7RIze03KNnPWGfVpIy5F0nDFvlmNsAs9szbf1_Wlk40JjfLPvNq-5p1S4y_Yd0YnZBYvcv_uLsjY9sSnt38c_EmddihtbWYZxXxwiM6mkwF3RDZx9Jhzwt2k/s320/Chalkland+Way+-+May+2012+038+small.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;">
Through Fimber, now briskly, and I
spotted the penultimate climb across the road complete with car mounted bird
scarer and then cresting the summit and down with a glimpse of Wetwang on the
Horizon. How kind to finally find a great wide swathe cut through the path to
complete my journey – two fields to go and I’m back at Wetwang.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;">
Pottering in, 9 and ½ hours - and 42 miles - after starting this morning offered simple no frills relief of a round
completed in what had been a very hot, cloudless and windless day.</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;">
<span lang="EN-GB">Give this a go if you fancy stunning
scenery, twists and turns and a great outing on trails. Don’t take it too
lightly though! You need all your wits about you. And, in weather like that don’t
dare forget to cover yourself in P20 otherwise you’re toast.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;">
<span lang="EN-GB">Thanks Ray, I had another blast</span></div>
<br />
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<br /></div>
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</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
</div>Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07573531759334080565noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8223836520212907820.post-48529925651113428562012-05-03T21:04:00.000+01:002012-05-07T21:55:04.688+01:00The Doncastrian Way - 2nd May 2012<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“The Doncastrian Way is a 33 mile circular around the old County Borough boundary of Doncaster” … So says the original pamphlet from the early 1970's … “the Route, follows public rights of way, with short sections on roads and was devised by Pat White of the Doncaster Wayfarers around 40 years ago”.<br />
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<br />
It's now one of the Vermuyden Groups challenge events and firstly, and most importantly, I must offer a personal thank you to Frank Lawson of the South Yorkshire Vermuyden Group of the LDWA for providing me with an e copy of the walk; so enabling me to map the entire route and complete the navigation error free. It is with his permission that I use certain images and narratives as an introduction. The rest of the experience is mine … alone!</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
I attempt these things because I'm a fan of long distance trails. Along with the camaraderie of this club, I also like the solitude such an endeavour allows and, having a rare day away from my business, I’ve tried to kill as many birds with one stone as possible.<br />
<br /></div>
<ul>
<li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Get a good long training session in for my up and coming ultra events</div>
</li>
<li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Awaken the general opportunities nearer to home of long distance running</div>
</li>
<li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Specifically put The Doncastrian Way on the map as a long distance running challenge</div>
</li>
<li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Complete this in one piece, planning the hydration / nutrition of a non-supported round</div>
</li>
<li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Not to get lost</div>
</li>
<li><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Get round in under 6 hours.<br />
<br /></div>
</li>
</ul>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
How well did I do? … you tell me!<br />
<br />
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<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
I joined the round at The Mount Pleasant Hotel on the Old Great North Road, heading clockwise round and my first 10k distance (sub 54 minutes) took me through territory very familiar to my club runners of Tickhill R & AC ( we actually turned last nights recce of our Offtrac 10 event - and respective marshalling positions - into a tempo 8 mile run through mud! … not sure that’s great preparation for an ultra attempt the following morning but, hey ho – here goes) – the Rossington to Wadworth section.</div>
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The sun shone, the day warmed nicely and this would have been a problem for Hay fever sufferers but fortunately that aint me. I was waist deep in Rape Seed Fields within an hour of starting: Ominously, this wouldn't be the first time in the day that I was to be waist deep in something!<br />
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Passing under the M18 and parallel to the A1(M) reminded me of the urban nature of this section. The hum of traffic stayed with me until I got through Warmsworth, down to Sprotborough and a cool section alongside the River Don, back <i>underneath</i> the A1(M), all the way to St Marys Bridge near to Town. 10 miles in … 1.31 on the clock.<br />
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I'll break here to allow aficionados of bridge architecture the further benefits of what's on offer on this trip: railway bridges, road bridges, motorway bridges, pipe carrying bridges and swing bridges are all on view! …<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH75RdTWKRn5MgVKa9teJeSRXif4pbG2W1JHTafnE3rDSaWEuaeTSOsk3WZObwhYmI3OsDbTGpbvkZz2iO4XbIcEct-OsxWqXh-pG3VCJonelmhJLVzYA_Yi4lJJ124eVfurbYOlGTID4/s1600/Doncastrian+Way+May+2012+013+small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH75RdTWKRn5MgVKa9teJeSRXif4pbG2W1JHTafnE3rDSaWEuaeTSOsk3WZObwhYmI3OsDbTGpbvkZz2iO4XbIcEct-OsxWqXh-pG3VCJonelmhJLVzYA_Yi4lJJ124eVfurbYOlGTID4/s320/Doncastrian+Way+May+2012+013+small.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7_vIcekujPwuxWoqy9ofLO7mrEJxNTVnMF0Erd7GHr4k45d136tmjM9Mp__9KuCl525rsebs44e6QEWMq4NGfhf9GiCoQOdrkTLQT00K2-vdN2ZSkiXdbRI-m2fNSdEtfKjbE-Z8XXLs/s1600/Doncastrian+Way+May+2012+014+small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7_vIcekujPwuxWoqy9ofLO7mrEJxNTVnMF0Erd7GHr4k45d136tmjM9Mp__9KuCl525rsebs44e6QEWMq4NGfhf9GiCoQOdrkTLQT00K2-vdN2ZSkiXdbRI-m2fNSdEtfKjbE-Z8XXLs/s320/Doncastrian+Way+May+2012+014+small.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGww7Sc5pOGxZGXIsmjzbPhncgjEJM8AX_3oxWjx3n_NponIqAL6BripB3YWIpisPnXsT-6Mr19nLfa8iryKN1pfZkTvoc4s_CGNheyBxmqa3F3T0s_Ppzr9GGX-Ed5l96oQ8G1wnki4w/s1600/Doncastrian+Way+May+2012+023+small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240px" mea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGww7Sc5pOGxZGXIsmjzbPhncgjEJM8AX_3oxWjx3n_NponIqAL6BripB3YWIpisPnXsT-6Mr19nLfa8iryKN1pfZkTvoc4s_CGNheyBxmqa3F3T0s_Ppzr9GGX-Ed5l96oQ8G1wnki4w/s320/Doncastrian+Way+May+2012+023+small.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div>
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… there then followed an odd point leaving Doncaster central where two level crossings bisect the route along Ings Lane heading out of Bentley and a full 7 minutes passed before I got through these but it did allow me to re-arrange my rucksack : Empty bottles away, fresh ones out, oat bars / Snicker bars out, empty wrappers away – and then try to stare the Hull Trains carriages into action!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxU94uEm6vj9bie55bYd4jj9_A_Xw_YwYDLFgl-mX6URBljL1SR7U-rap7stWZZnnoRjwwZ5snjMxosmgtZVyrWB_Xg4GspT3RhNbiavlURKLTveqCneFLej54FEfY-asMFf-HVUuejq0/s1600/Doncastrian+Way+May+2012+020+small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxU94uEm6vj9bie55bYd4jj9_A_Xw_YwYDLFgl-mX6URBljL1SR7U-rap7stWZZnnoRjwwZ5snjMxosmgtZVyrWB_Xg4GspT3RhNbiavlURKLTveqCneFLej54FEfY-asMFf-HVUuejq0/s320/Doncastrian+Way+May+2012+020+small.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div>
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I have found the mental discipline to keep going one of the tough nuts to crack and this next few miles along the ankle deep grass levees of the Don took it's toll. In the far distance I have tried to avoid looking at the cooling towers of Thorp Marsh Power Station as I know I'm eventually under their shadows but it seems an eternity of blue skies and tough grass and even though it's flat I have to take regular walks as it just took it out of me.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaTImqHQCY24ZwMfI0DylQw1n76Ipa2RsoO5BQgyKT-RTVOlJMF6D_U8Q9jTQTxe_6n3hA0E_uFjVHDqzWDlT0-cgB-DNau1qI95V-i4y3FwlbCFC_66FrRW5NI0FELu8qFyLHmX53o-c/s1600/Doncastrian+Way+May+2012+021+small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaTImqHQCY24ZwMfI0DylQw1n76Ipa2RsoO5BQgyKT-RTVOlJMF6D_U8Q9jTQTxe_6n3hA0E_uFjVHDqzWDlT0-cgB-DNau1qI95V-i4y3FwlbCFC_66FrRW5NI0FELu8qFyLHmX53o-c/s320/Doncastrian+Way+May+2012+021+small.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div>
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I was just pleased it wasn't wet ….., then I left the grass, crossing the Grumble Hurst Drain and the lane ahead ...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9AJHkhNAtPpjfzUQuHA0BDjyfYLvbWp9xtkBgPzN_Yk05Dgab5Lb2iRC39VNMWjsLaQo2cl_SyXi2sXl3zmFpl5ZXnysenllwBl6qXpzrw3FkBe0lVoZgA2mrmENoGUVKAyebL9XS0IE/s1600/Doncastrian+Way+May+2012+024+small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240px" mea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9AJHkhNAtPpjfzUQuHA0BDjyfYLvbWp9xtkBgPzN_Yk05Dgab5Lb2iRC39VNMWjsLaQo2cl_SyXi2sXl3zmFpl5ZXnysenllwBl6qXpzrw3FkBe0lVoZgA2mrmENoGUVKAyebL9XS0IE/s320/Doncastrian+Way+May+2012+024+small.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div>
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So, I get waist deep in River flood water and its eerie being so far from dry land during a route I'm supposed to be running … <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJyNfBKyShfDixeML1AgowtnMM9v9KXlQuQxFcbUW_iKjbN0n6NYUVnNHQh5JZ9BPybDj02nHWqTWKhM2IJqlxgawrHpCfzFCU8ymkuiRKLbPIM3iqqcKDux9zWRevAfA5Puaev4rR_Ig/s1600/Doncastrian+Way+May+2012+025+small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240px" mea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJyNfBKyShfDixeML1AgowtnMM9v9KXlQuQxFcbUW_iKjbN0n6NYUVnNHQh5JZ9BPybDj02nHWqTWKhM2IJqlxgawrHpCfzFCU8ymkuiRKLbPIM3iqqcKDux9zWRevAfA5Puaev4rR_Ig/s320/Doncastrian+Way+May+2012+025+small.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div>
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then the abandoned car floats by …<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNUPvnWRpzyaplatQRGIEgiYmEtbFK-Aw37UegiuuzyjLoZM0KoB_FMpJKuTkK7aQbaAm5goz2eYnLEWwMFfTDarXrhHG78Am-bWNCjToN5hS2q0Y3Ya0RYcrE8OgkSGzEz43-z0F9vjM/s1600/Doncastrian+Way+May+2012+027+small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240px" mea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNUPvnWRpzyaplatQRGIEgiYmEtbFK-Aw37UegiuuzyjLoZM0KoB_FMpJKuTkK7aQbaAm5goz2eYnLEWwMFfTDarXrhHG78Am-bWNCjToN5hS2q0Y3Ya0RYcrE8OgkSGzEz43-z0F9vjM/s320/Doncastrian+Way+May+2012+027+small.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div>
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closely followed by a grass snake …</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizsyZLcDpH0xFXW007ZYmnHN0ZEldN1OISc0rQjkN3B8C0AK5RujFTBRnGB9SFYX-ntA-t65gpTg4Omg6YiJhcObFN4kqOEOjYKSFQwai4aE9LheUdTBCvXbPM-BqoZPn8g90Ms3InqIk/s1600/grass+snake.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="232px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizsyZLcDpH0xFXW007ZYmnHN0ZEldN1OISc0rQjkN3B8C0AK5RujFTBRnGB9SFYX-ntA-t65gpTg4Omg6YiJhcObFN4kqOEOjYKSFQwai4aE9LheUdTBCvXbPM-BqoZPn8g90Ms3InqIk/s320/grass+snake.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div>
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Enough is enough and I don`t look back as I finally wade onto the dry end of Fordstead Lane, through the Road Closed barriers and squelch my way over Barnby Dun Bridge ... and back to civilisation?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh12SyJyrodi4ybXvPH0iLiF8_BAGB7zPTQrl4wkd1yLOGj5b64AabJVP7Yv_dVKmmp5nha9CnQeLRSHPYLIhaDFxKZa-Y7pdmqSnxt7TOJJOV2aGlMLn9ukX-s0iSop_nBNVhX4GYOuu0/s1600/Doncastrian+Way+May+2012+029+small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240px" mea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh12SyJyrodi4ybXvPH0iLiF8_BAGB7zPTQrl4wkd1yLOGj5b64AabJVP7Yv_dVKmmp5nha9CnQeLRSHPYLIhaDFxKZa-Y7pdmqSnxt7TOJJOV2aGlMLn9ukX-s0iSop_nBNVhX4GYOuu0/s320/Doncastrian+Way+May+2012+029+small.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div>
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I'm most of the way down Hatfield Lane towards Dunsville before water stops being pushed out of my running shoes and nearly another half hour before I'm warm. I've passed Ruane Potatoes and over the M18 now and thankfully a turn south of South West means – to me – the homeward section. Gate Wood Lane track is however a couple of miles of gun barrel straight pools and tractor rutted mud<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg56EBzsWz4D_e4A2L1165EaokamtZfV-vPHgAcYKinVttuhtlu5pai5h8mF-C4UvW8Cd_U82D8BFMwMif40NUgeGMfvUtvbTBCi-y-Q8z3kXQR8KqWBFGWdni49-mNGaZDy7QiAyjZhKU/s1600/Doncastrian+Way+May+2012+033+small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240px" mea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg56EBzsWz4D_e4A2L1165EaokamtZfV-vPHgAcYKinVttuhtlu5pai5h8mF-C4UvW8Cd_U82D8BFMwMif40NUgeGMfvUtvbTBCi-y-Q8z3kXQR8KqWBFGWdni49-mNGaZDy7QiAyjZhKU/s320/Doncastrian+Way+May+2012+033+small.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div>
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...and I'm resigned to blow my target of 6 hours: Cold, wet, harassed by dogs and feeling generally spent.</div>
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Then the mind games begin. Crossing Torne Bridge, I opt for the South Bank of the South Ring Drain and immediately regret it. The grass is knee deep and I can't see the ruts and tussocks – cursing, it takes me an age to get onto Common Lane and down the dusty but hard track into, once again a sunny Auckley village centre. Can I get back in 6 hours or under? – 20 minutes to get across country – very pleasant in the late afternoon sun including good paths and Bluebell Woods ...</div>
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(Could only happen around here but how <em>does </em>an old bath get into a wood?)<br />
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But I'm finally defeated, running out of gas, passing Marr Flats into Hurst Plantation. I pick a line that ends me up in a mogul field! High mounds of earth cross the path - perfect for mountain biking but hellish on mi' old knees at this point – scarcely a mile to go but I'm scrambling up banks and sliding down t'other side like no tomorrow but I'm done in and I limp back out onto the Old Great North Road ... the sign sends me</div>
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Southbound for the Mount Pleasant Hotel – and the finish – which I can see! At 6 hours and 5 mins. It takes me another 7 minutes to hobble down the road in the late afternoon sun and get back to the car but I've made it! </div>
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6.12, self supported around this difficult circular round and I'm chuffed to bits. I've been chased by dogs, been yellow from the chest down in Rape Seed flowers, been chased by more <i>pairs of</i> dogs, been waved at by train passengers, been waist deep in floodwaters with only a snake for company and shuffled along cursing more often that I can say. But, I `ve achieved another milestone in my ultra running journey – I never thought this one would be so hard!<br />
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I`ve just received a very complimentary note from Frank of the Vermuyden LDWA Group. Following this, hopefully my report and a few images may be seen <a href="http://www.ldwa.org.uk/Vermuyden/W/76/doncastrian-way.html">here on their site</a>. I've even been granted <i>The</i> Badge and Completion Certificate. What do you think to that? ... <i>and</i> nearly got my six goals reached.<br />
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</div>Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07573531759334080565noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8223836520212907820.post-8843457831753193372012-04-15T19:07:00.007+01:002012-04-19T21:36:21.462+01:00Half Reservoir, Half Moorland, High Peak Half! ... 15th April 2012<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Following last weekends Easter Bleak Break Washout!, this weekends training route was bathed in glorious sunlight: An out and back, trail and track, hill gallop showing off the High Peak tops in all their glory! <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVvVA_0e2Ahc4cNyrhMlaoKD-2XvqagyF21T-gWPJ-7_Sb_sGrrM7FUtBguNUpG-I227GujbLeU99lLdqgqRvQiQeq4uLUzpxZdgcB6imVH8jMLvMcHSYFDv3Y4o6-JZLqO4Q3AceIDU8/s1600/Derwent+Reservoir+April+2012+007+tower.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="196px" nda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVvVA_0e2Ahc4cNyrhMlaoKD-2XvqagyF21T-gWPJ-7_Sb_sGrrM7FUtBguNUpG-I227GujbLeU99lLdqgqRvQiQeq4uLUzpxZdgcB6imVH8jMLvMcHSYFDv3Y4o6-JZLqO4Q3AceIDU8/s320/Derwent+Reservoir+April+2012+007+tower.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><br />
From Ladybower, taking in Derwent Reservoir shoreline, a stiff climb up to the tops via Abbey Brook, Howden Dean and Sheepfold Clough moors then back south from Lost Lad via Derwent Edge passing all manner of stone outcrops before a downhill dash back to water level and civilisation? <br />
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Kicking off along the west bank of the reservoir, a grassy track ...<br />
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then a dappled path through the woods was a perfect start – fresh as the morning was, the smell of pine woods was intoxicating – I did however manage to fall heavily, much to the amusement of Lady M, as I was trying to read the map trotting along on a flat path: bloody knees for the rest of the day.<br />
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Crossing under the Derwent Dam, the populace decreased to a few groups of Mountain Bikers and properly attired walkers and then even these became fewer again as we left the banks of the waters ..... <br />
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... and headed upwards and out onto the moors …<br />
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Never been up these parts afore, it felt really wild ...<br />
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... and although the sun was shining, ice and snow remained. Hard climbing here resulted in a few walks and excuses for cake and water stops ...<br />
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... before we caught up with a group of ramblers prior to the high point of Back Tor. The views were simply stunning, a delight to be up here today … looking across obviously at Mam Tor and our old stomping ground in the distance …<br />
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… and away slightly west of North towards Featherbed Moss and Margery Hill and ultimately towards very familiar “Grin N Bear It” race territory of the Dark Peak …<br />
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But, once at Back Tor, the landscape became quite lunar – a flat ridge away back south proved very runnable and after the previous climb from the reservoir, it proved a welcome relief.<br />
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Never thought you could see so far!, what with the horrible weather of last week - so stopped to take a great and unmissable pic of the Kinder Plateau due East! ..<br />
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then onwards ... Back Tor, Cakes of Bread, Dovestone Tor, Salt Cellar Boulder and White Tor all came and went as we slowly lost altitude ... <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv368QlxUWIqM8HlJ341GluCDEXCrsg2guZCIB0pWYBeX4F_DQUIXBJ8gA1ShUvEHPb32qzerfcElI9QW9n5ynH1fAZWYIOptrcfsoVlUy0xwqklw66Mlxa9agmDS9eIMregwb5oQLHGI/s1600/Derwent+Reservoir+April+2012+018+ridge+end.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="211px" nda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv368QlxUWIqM8HlJ341GluCDEXCrsg2guZCIB0pWYBeX4F_DQUIXBJ8gA1ShUvEHPb32qzerfcElI9QW9n5ynH1fAZWYIOptrcfsoVlUy0xwqklw66Mlxa9agmDS9eIMregwb5oQLHGI/s320/Derwent+Reservoir+April+2012+018+ridge+end.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div> <br />
<span id="goog_1245975414"></span><span id="goog_1245975415"></span> ... then a sudden down turn right and a hair-raising descent along rough tracks, woodland paths and fields towards the pastures bordering the reservoir, which suddenly came back into view – the last bit now!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNiUM72DxzMy1UqXMfLvkE2sP7ljtGE8LP4aoFXb3d8ANmfxp2ISsdd3JE76lC-foPzHOU-51hpKXRoUhyphenhyphenjkiOjTpB8TxeYfqI6CsZaLCxEpkwORRJeihS3oxNKAMd2NneBGOmc0YhLuc/s1600/Derwent+Reservoir+April+2012+017+reservoir.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240px" nda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNiUM72DxzMy1UqXMfLvkE2sP7ljtGE8LP4aoFXb3d8ANmfxp2ISsdd3JE76lC-foPzHOU-51hpKXRoUhyphenhyphenjkiOjTpB8TxeYfqI6CsZaLCxEpkwORRJeihS3oxNKAMd2NneBGOmc0YhLuc/s320/Derwent+Reservoir+April+2012+017+reservoir.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNbhy1FW8bGa1IcEIJVEB6Wsp7lhOsdWCODB1PwERPYxMzS29mcXloSGCgE8WsuB2E36bzV91sjIg8Oc49T4fwUUgTHXkjNZolU1-fv51jgZtJ-2AgF1mTSRgaigOEhyphenhyphen1q_R1VmKl5xes/s1600/Derwent+Reservoir+April+2012+021+happy+return.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="194px" nda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNbhy1FW8bGa1IcEIJVEB6Wsp7lhOsdWCODB1PwERPYxMzS29mcXloSGCgE8WsuB2E36bzV91sjIg8Oc49T4fwUUgTHXkjNZolU1-fv51jgZtJ-2AgF1mTSRgaigOEhyphenhyphen1q_R1VmKl5xes/s320/Derwent+Reservoir+April+2012+021+happy+return.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><br />
Once we padded down the stone track seen in the field above, the return trail back along the <em>eastern </em>bank of the Derwent was dusty and hot and once again full of day trippers ... finally crossing the A57 back to the car in 2.40 ish with a 13.1 mile trail behind was good enough for all this training lark to be well on track - once again we've earnt those cakes! <br />
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Oh, here's the map in case you fancy an outing ...<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFkLkzxpcWxX27WuXaXU5fzDqh_Tx6FxfpLPe9tj6TIdOFGrxG4AcVHqNICHEKq1T172uhT_DSjTUHY8DbKsSqrUmH3vtvUPd3I0sZR7zFyMwwjbjpHa_QpvvggiBNiHo35LyxkEn5MV8/s1600/map05.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320px" qda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFkLkzxpcWxX27WuXaXU5fzDqh_Tx6FxfpLPe9tj6TIdOFGrxG4AcVHqNICHEKq1T172uhT_DSjTUHY8DbKsSqrUmH3vtvUPd3I0sZR7zFyMwwjbjpHa_QpvvggiBNiHo35LyxkEn5MV8/s320/map05.gif" width="320px" /></a></div></div>Mikehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07573531759334080565noreply@blogger.com0