Back on the trail - Leg Two

BG Recce No. 7 - 16/17 February

Clough Head, Great Dodd, Watson Dodd, Stybarrow Dodd, Raise, Whiteside, Lower Man, Helvellyn, Nethermost Pike, Dollywagon Pike and down to the tent - it was a successful first foray back to the Lake District.

We camped up at Dunmail Raise in plummeting temperatures on Friday night and woke to a crisp, icy but crystal clear dawn.


Three lads swung down off Seat Sandle on an official BG attempt and looked in good shape. Their remarkable luck with the weather was evident in their timings - ten minutes ahead of schedule.

After watching them off we hitched up to Threlkeld, hauled ourselves up Clough Head and ran along the tops admiring the view. The hordes were out on the snow capped summit of Helvellyn on what was a picture perfect day.


Sense has crept into our training after last year and so we dropped off Dollywagon Pike to the car, leaving Fairfield and Seat Sandle for Sunday.

It was a wise move. Sunday came and after a renewed acquaintance with the summit of Dollywagon Pike we found the quick way down to Grisedale Tarn and the gravelly long path up Fairfield.

Psychologically this is one of the hardest peaks as you retrace you steps down it after reaching the summit, ensuring you lose every inch of height gained. For a short Sunday outing though the view takes some beating.

Pen y Fan in the snow

Fired up from my first foray of the year last week I returned to the Brecons to stretch the legs for a second time and work out quite where I went wrong the time before.

Mother Nature was on hand however to remind me of our fateful recce's of the Lake District this time last year and the full force at her disposal when she so chooses.


The upper reaches of the track to Corn Du were edged in snow and at the saddle a fearsome northerly wind was howling.

The rest of the way to the top of Pen y Fan was a battle of attrition. The path was completley covered in snow, visibility was down to a few metres and you could feel the hail through your waterproofs.


Training on days like these has it's benefits. You have the hill to yourself, test your gear and strength of mind and feel like you've been up in the mountains for far longer than you actually have. It also augments the appreciation levels come the long summer days as you bask in the beauty of a view and hark back to when the weather wasn't quite so clement.

Getting back on it in the Brecon Beacons

As is probably apparent from the gap in dates, the 2007 attempt never happened.

My knee fell apart on the Fellsman, Kev was distracted by a fair maiden and Nick hobbled off a 5-a-side pitch down-playing the effects of a nasty tackle. A few days later it was confirmed he had completely severed his cruciate ligament.

But the round is still there and Caspar made a valid point as we pulled out of the Fellsman. He said: "If we just knocked it off first time I wouldn't enjoy it as much.

"It's about spending lots and lots of time in the mountains. Getting to know them. Hurting on numerous occasions, getting lost, but ultimately becoming intimately acquainted with them and the route to the point where on a cloudless day some summer in the future you skip around with a demented smile on your face revelling in the beauty of it all and then sleeping like a king for the next 50 years."

In the summer of 2007 I moved to Cardiff and have been distracted from fell running by the surf, the football and the rugby.

Seized by happy memories trotting round the peaks though I donned my runners this christmas to meet a mate in the Brecons. He gave me a grid ref but I didn't have a map. To hell with it, I thought. If I get lost I've got my kit and it'll be better training than a simple blast up and down Pen-y-fan on my first outing in the Brecons.

Two and a half hours later I was back at the car having failed to meet up with my friends but having covered a sizeable chunk of the Brecon Beacons and with a demented grin on my face.

Game on.