The Fellsman

12 May 2007 - The Fellsman is a well-known 61-mile jaunt across the Yorkshire Dales organised by the Scouts and was meant to be a timely next step in our training. Due to our various set backs and my knee problems carrying on from last weekend's exploits in the Lakes, it proved to be anything but.

Starting in Ingleton, the route meanders its way around a significant number of hills to Grassington. The record is a remarkable 11 hours. The majority of contenders, however, take significantly longer and 24 hours is the goal, not least because of the notorious Fleet Moss bog which the organisers carefully route you through after dark (although also after insisting on grouping runners into fours for their own safety). In the word sof one contender from this years race, "never underestimate the bog. It can take you an hour, it can take seven."

We took advantage of the organisers' planning and drove to Grassington on Friday night, kipped on a classroom floor, were fed and watered at 6am and bussed to the start at 6.30am. What we weren't prepared for was the subsequent lengthy kit check before everyone started simultaneously at 9am. The possibility of significantly more than four hours sleep will undoubtedly lead to different plans of preparation next year.

And there will be a next year because we put in a poor show this time round. My knee was niggling me still from last weekend's exploits but my aim was to nurse it round at a fast walk and retire if injury was looking inevitable, leaving Caspar and Kev to stride out the remainder of the course.

At the checkpoint on 20.3 mile though, Kev beat me to it. Sitting outside the excellently staffed and supplied tent in the sunshine with a fresh sausage roll in one hand and a chocolate swiss roll in the other, Kev declared he was withdrawing, his mind wasn't in it. I had resolved, mid baked-beans and cup of tea that my knee wasn't in it for the duration either, having given me gip from the off, and so our attempt came to a suprisingly swift end.

The upside was that we got another 20 miles under our feet and witnessed the superb organisation of the Fellsman event which will certainly tempt us back next year. Some careful work over the next fortnight should see my knee return to form, Kev to restock on Swiss rolls and Caspar to concentrate on his hills in time for a make or break recce of the BG route over the second May Bank Holiday.

If not then the quest will just have to go on longer than planned, for we've had a taste and it tastes doable.

BG Recce No.6

5 May 2007 - More bank holiday madness, this time in May. With news that the good weather was only set to last a day and that Alice's companion couldn't even muster making it up for that, we knew saturday was going to be a big one. Well, I knew this, Kev could only suspect my intentions. Mist spoilt the first moments of my morning when I emerged from my tent early, in expectation of fine weather. It also conspired to lead Kev and I up Cringle Crags when our intended destination had been Bowfell. Incessant banter may also have had something to do with it. The summit of Bowfell, once reached, saw us break into the big blue and rengage our respective wonder of the lake district as the clouds swirled around below us granting glimpses here, glimpses there of our surrounds.

From Bowfell we followed the BG route in increasingly fine conditions. Seven hours and eight minutes later we were stood on top of Great Gable. This was eight minutes down on the 23 hour schedule but we had treated ourselves to a number of stops, conversing with the numerous walkers congregating and congratulating themselves on the top of each peak.

Disturbingly, we learnt from one such conversation that on Friday a chap died descending Broad Stand. Fortunately, going the other way, Kev glided up on his first attempt and, it being my second encounter with the "step", the old Elvis leg was less visible as I again opted for the backwall rather than step out over the drop. The red ash from the flare lit to guide the rescue helicopter was still visible at the foot of the crag and the story is a reminder to take nothing for granted in the mountains. Our thoughts go out to the family trying to comprehend the loss of a loved one.

From Great Gable it was a long way back to the Old Dungeon Ghyll. Kev had skirted around Kirk Fell to save his ass and my knees started to lock as we passed Angle Tarn, but with the prospect of a fine feed at the pub just a few km away there was nothing stopping the internal motors.

It was just a pity that the bank holiday punters had beaten us to it...

BG Recce No. 5

27/28 April - The loss of Williams, Sillet and Selman has been big, so a big replacement was needed. Cue big Kev, our match-making saviour from Easter. Having learnt of the BG round and had a chance to survey the terrain in his newly found freedom (Gents, the tale would bring a tear to the eye) Kev has signed up to the remaining reccies and the attempt itself.

The boldness of this move is justified by his CV as an outdoor enthusiast extraordinaire. Whether he can onsight the BG round remains to be seen but his strength, stamina and unbridled Aussie enthusiasm is a strong acquisition to the team at a time when the spirits needed lifting after the departure of Herr Williams. Hell, he's even starting to learn a little about football.

His first outing was with the remaining crew of Caspar and myself. The plan was to do legs 1 and 2 in one go, for the first time without big packs and tents. Caspar's legs were still sore after the London Marathon so he agreed to drop us off in Keswick and meet us somewhere along Leg 2 having parked the car at the finish. Ahhh, the joy of logistics.

Needless to say it didn't go to plan. The weather was stunning once more, but so was Kev's cough and, although we managed to knock off Skiddaaw, Great Calva and Blencathra in the allotted 4 hours without too much bother, it was clear he wouldn't be able to continue.

A highlight, aside from the blood-speckled green lumps sailing out of Kev's lungs, was his exclamation after asking which way we went off Blencathra. For those who've been there, Hall's Fell doesn't look like a plausible descent route when stood by the trig point. "Giddy up!" was the reply from big Kev.

So as Caspar set off from his car at Dunmail Raise we hitch-hiked to a pub in Grasmere. Inspired by the fine weather Caspar was out for some time. I received a text saying he was tackling Striding Edge "to watch the sun go down" at gone 5pm. Not bad given he went via Fairfield and Glenridding.

The night was spent camping at Chapel Stile in lovely Langdale, home of the famous lamb shoulder at Wainwright's pub. Sunday saw Kev rest up while Caspar and I trotted over Pick O'Stickle and reccied the short cut to Rossett Pike via the narrow part of Stake Pass. The main note for next time is not to run through any puddles on the moor there. It took me some time to free my leg after plunging into a bog up to my waist. At night and on my own it would have been frightening. As it was, Caspar just laughed at me as I stuggled to escape its vacuumous clutches without losing my shoe.

Having missed the path up and across to Rosett Pike, we found it at the top and, so as to mark it for next time, followed it back to Stake Pass before descending to Kev, the pub and a wee climb on Scout Crag before the long haul back to the big smoke.

Man Down 3 - Almost biblical timing

Nick Williams is the latest to fall by the BG wayside having knacked his knee in a football match. Initial fears that he had incurred long term damage have thankfully been confined to the scrapheap following an appointment with a consultant, but the "pop" that Nick heard in his knee will keep him out of action for approximately two months.

It is a harsh blow coming just a week before his marathon attempt and after a strong showing under glorious skies in the Lakes over Easter when he dragged Andy round legs 3, 4 and 5. It also leaves just two BG contenders, Andy and Caspar, hoping to share a pint of something old and peculiar in Keswick come June 16th.

Thoughts and wishes are with Nick to get back on it as soon as he can.

Easter - A new beginning - BG Recce No. 4

Until now the brutal fact was that we had not managed to complete a single leg of the Bob Graham Round in one go. Heavy snow, hurricane-force winds and Premiership football fixtures had all conspired to ensure that our reccying attempts were either cut short or diverted.

So it was with much glee that Sloan and Williams veritably cavorted around legs 3, 4 and 5 of the route over the Easter Bank Holiday weekend under stunning clear blue skies.

Kipping in Derby on the Thursday night and rising leisurely on the friday, we parked up on Dunmail Raise and set off at 2pm, aiming to camp on Esk Hause. Steel Fell, Calf Crag, Sergeant Man and High Raise passed quickly despite our big packs and Thunacar Knott slipped under our shoes without us even realising it. More attention will be paid to the map in future but it is always a delight when you get to Harrison Stickle thinking it is the "knott" and realise you are one peak ahead of where you thought you were.

Pike O'Stickle, Rossett Pike and Bowfell followed but on the slopes of the latter a clanger emerged. We had forgotten our matches. For Nick, who had been a bit under the weather, this was somewhat of a psychological blow. His stack of carefully packed lemsips would have to remain carefully packed.

Lacking the means to make fire (or a handy camera crew to collect wood and flint for us) we pressed on over Esk Pike in the vague hope of finding others camping high. Low and behold, as we descended the other side, a red tent was clearly visible high on Great End, temporary home to our subsequent saviour, Kevin, a stray Australian with a ready supply of much needed matches. To the most sensational sunset I have seen in the Lakes we swapped war stories and cooked up before freezing our nuts off in sub-zero night-time temperatures.

I recall a friend lamenting to me about the time he tried to bivvy on top of Scafell in a one season sleeping bag in late Autumn. I can confirm that in Spring, on Great End, the result will be the same, not least when ice is reported as having formed on the cars down in Ambleside at somewhat lower altitudes.

Day two was simply spectacular. Ill Crag, Broad Crag and Scafell Pike passed before I had properly woken up, drifting along as I was in the dreamy morning sunshine. The myths and legends of Broad Stand were blown away after a nervous lead by Williams which prompted me to take a slightly different route up the back of the second step rather than leaning out over the drop. Having conquered it once I would have no qualms in future, but attempting it with some 12 hours of running already in my legs would be a different prospect and I can see why a rope is recommended.

The descent from the top of Scafell is nothing but brutal on the knees. Descending 900m in a short space of time is never going to be conducive to good humour, not least when it is immediately followed by 700m of ascent straight up the side of Yewbarrow.

Once the summit of Yewbarrow is gained however, a treat awaits. The traverse around the the horseshoe ridge comprised of Red Pike, Steeple, Pillar, Kirk Fell and Great Gable, in good weather, is tantamount to running with the gods. The views are sensational and the going fair and fast, bar the supposed "last big climb of the round" up Great Gable.

The descent over Green Gable, Brandreth and Grey Knotts to our camping spot on Honsiter Pass, just below the YHA was comparatively gentle and green and just enough to thoroughly finish off my legs for the day.

Day three was the wind down. The long haul up Dale Head, although not steep, brings into question labelling Great Gable as the last big climb of the round, but it is soon past and, in the knowledge that the round is nearly at an end Hindsgarth and Robinson are joyously ticked off, not least as we were still enjoying fine weather whilst the route behind us (Pillar and the Gables) had been consumed by dark clouds. The descent from Robinson along the ridge and into the green valley leading to Keswick was wondrous. Wondrous, I suspect, because we had only been on the go for a couple of hours. Come the BG attempt itself it will have been 22 or so hours, and the wonder, I'm sure, will be somewhat diminished until Keswick itself is reached.

Man Down 2 - Even Darker Day

In the sequel to "Man Down", a second disaster has befallen the team, with exceptional ice climber dbs aka Dave Selman having to make the difficult but again sensible decision to step back from the plate. Given recent weather conditions, his expertise will be missed.

"Hi team,

I've been having a think about things and I've decided to back out of the BG for this year.
A combination of a lack of training (through injury and illness) and a lack of remaining time to sufficiently recce the course mean that there's very little chance I'll be sufficiently prepared by June to take on the BG. Sorry to bail on you all...

With all of that said, if you've no objection, I'm still keen to come on some of the training weekends we planned (though perhaps not all of them) and if you'd like, to pace you on some of the legs when you have a crack at the route.

dbs"

This leaves just three men standing:

Nick Williams

Veteran of the 2005 Cho Oyu expedition and numerous forays into the Alps, the Highlands and the spanish bar behind Tottenham Court Road tube. My favourite moment - Hearing that Nick had thrown one of his work shoes in the Thames after a particulary big night. It was a Tuesday. The man is a legend. He had the remarkable fortune of meeting me at Lovells and in no way returns from every adventure worse off than everyone else.

Caspar Kennerdale

With a name that is half Jedi, half disney, Caspar provides the experience in the outfit. Anyone who can complete the Marathon Des Sables deserves a lot of respect and more than earns a Jedi label. However, this was the same man who once sparked a climbing foray at 4am when, with his hand out of the window he declared that the weather had turned for the better, that the rain had ceased and that we should kit up and head out. Somehow he had failed to notice the overhanging second floor... Works for Centaur, something to do with computers (eyes start to glaze) but it requires a pin stripe and seems to fund a lot of climbing kit.

Me

The only famous person I have been likened to is one of high wit and intelligence and blessed with an innate natural athleticism: Rodney Trotter. I'm English, like the rest of the team, which equates to an alarming tendency to naivity and hopefulness. Hell, you have to be to follow in the footsteps of Bob.

BG Recce No. 3

Jan 13/14 - There has been a continuing trend to the training for this BG attempt - worsening weather. Yet again Mother Nature saw fit to demonstrate her powers, prompting the mountain weather forecast to utter the unforgettable words, "mobility may be impossible in places."

Undettered, having been mentally prepared for shocking weather in any event, Nick, Casper and I holed up on Friday night in our usual stop-off at Burton services and on Saturday morning drove to Wasdale Head.

Light rain laced the route straight up the side of Yewbarrow from the car park and we made good time to the top. Sadly we forgot to bring the BG directions but this only means that next time we'll be quicker (bear right at the foot of the screes). It certainly explains why I suspected that the BG route didn't actually go down Stirrup Crags (bear left halfway along the ridge to cut down and round the cliffs), but for a day out they proved an entertaining descent in what had now become a steady downpour, and spiced up our morning.

The summit of Red Pike was gained shortly thereafter in quickening winds and by an unconventional route (again giving cause for celebration that next time out will be significantly quicker). From thereon the going got tough. The winds quickened further, peppered with violent gusts, and the clouds descended.

We found the summit wall of Scoat fell remarkably easily but opted not to venture out onto the summit of Steeple as balance of any kind was an issue. Casper and I, lacking the ballast of Williams, were in particular need of steadying one another and loving the fact that we had yet to reach "windy gap".

By the summit of Pillar, mobility really was almost impossible and the light was starting to go. All three of us had been knocked clean off our feet on at least one occasion and an accident would have meant an exceptionally miserable bivvy for the remainder. As darkness fell we bailed down into Ennerdale and some hours later set up camp just shy of the Black Sail YHA.

Sunday brought fairer weather, higher cloud and the knowledge that Casper's tent had not been blown away in the night. He had secretly been listening to Five Live though. Jealously at this concealment momentarily threatened moral until it was confirmed that the writer's fantasy football team had done rather well.

The BG trail was rejoined at the saddle between Pillar and Kirk Fell and the team were greeted with a fantastic view back along the route to Stirrup Crags and Yewbarrow. Mentally noting to keep right on the initial, rocky ascent of Kirk Fell, and then to follow the fence posts, the summit reintroduced us to the howling winds as well as a sprinkling of snow.

Heading right of the next tarn saw us make good time to the saddle before Great Gable. Casper, faced with the seven hour drive home, made the sensible decision to head down early while Nick and I braved the winds once more to go up and over Great Gable.

Another weekend of horrific weather had been survived without mishap but the team are still without a completed stage under their belts. Fairer weather should rectify the situation but whether all 5 stages can be stitched into one remains to be seen.

Bring. It. On.

Man down - Dark day

And then there were 4:

"Actually boys and girls I've got some bad news.

My knee just hasn't settled down at all. I went out again last night as a final moment of truth and it lasted 2 miles before it got too painful. It's fine to walk on but no matter how much I rest it, stretch and take tablets it won't go away. It's back to the doctor, physio and whatever it takes to get it sorted out.

Therefore, I am pulling out of everything I have planned for this year. The pressure on me to train through the injury has been driving me mad and sure enough, as soon as I'd decided to stop everything I felt better about it. It will fix, there will be other years.

This includes everything, including the London marathon, BG, TdMB, Peaks, Lakes, everything. I'm sticking to the bike and swimming until I'm 100%. At least until I know what this is. At the moment, every day without training is a weight on my mind and it's affecting my mental health!
Even if it fixes in a month, I'll not be fit enough for this year's attempt.

Sorry."

Ian has had to withdraw which is a crying shame but a sensible decision on his part.

Wishing him a speedy recovery, ready for next year's antics... probably a second attempt.

Winter Break

Christmas is always a difficult time of year for the professional athlete. Temptation is a terrible thing and greed is a bastard. I am pleased to report that none of our team succumbed to the perils of profligate behaviour though. Booze may have been in abundance (photo 1 - left) but its effects were well harnessed (photo 2 - below).

In fact, despite the odd, momentary, week-long lapse, the team maintained their training. Steve Redgrave famously used to train on Christmas Day to get one up on his opponents. Fool! What did he know! Deciding this was frankly excessive, we ate copious amounts of turkey and drank champagne.

Cometh the New Year, cometh the man. I bet Steve has never swum in the 2 foot deep waters of the Welsh wonderlands, ventured up and out into the driving hail on the Welsh hills like Williams for run after run, braced 80mph gusts on the Lakeland fells for "feet time"like Ian or battled the gales in Fort William to reach the Co-Op for more mince pies, like Caspar. In Caspar's defence the weather north of the border was so bad that the Scot's cancelled Hogmonay in Edinburgh. By his own admission though, that may have simply been because they were tight.

Steve, however, may now be enjoying his retirement on the marginally more appetising Norwegian ice with Selman. Sensible chap.

Bob would have been proud.

Two New Years resolutions:

1. more sleep.
2. more action.