It's All About Learning Points

This weekend, Dave and I headed to Northumberland, to do a recce of the Montane Cheviot Goat race, that we are planning on doing in December. Yes, you read that right, a race in the Cheviots in December - 55 miles in 24 hours.

Looking along the Pennine Way towards Cheviot

I'd prepared a big pot of pasta for the Friday night; too big as it turned out, but that seemed to please the ducks that live on and around the campsite in Wooler.

On Saturday, our aim was to cover about 27 miles - around half of the course. We would follow the route for about 11 miles and then cut across country to the Pennine Way and pick up the return route over the summit of Cheviot. For most of the way, things went pretty much as planned.

The route starts in the village of Ingram in the Breamish valley and immediately climbs for about three miles before dropping down for a while and then climbing up and over a range of hills to deposite you back in the Breamish valley about five miles from the start. It might be easier to drive.

Dave dropping down towards Salter's Road; this was one of the few good running stretches

About half way along that section, we picked up a track called Salter's Road, which we followed for seven or eight miles. In parts, it was actually a road, albeit an unmade road, at other points it was actually a more or less invisible footpath.

On Salter's Road - this was before we got to the really wet and boggy ground

Where the race route turns south to climb up Bloodybush Edge, we went straight on through a forest before climbing up to the Pennine Way.

Once on the Pennine Way, the path was fairly straight forward, much of it being composed of limestone flagstones which, mark the route, keep people to a narrow path preventing erosion of a fragile ecosystem and stopping people falling in bogs from which they might never emerge. The climb up to Cheviot is slow and steady, with only a couple of really steep stretches (unfortunately one of these has no flagstones). 

However, the wind on this stretch mad running hard going. For much of the time, it was far easier to walk and not appreciably slower. This was especially the case going up Cheviot. We had the wind on our back heading up, but on the way down, there was a gale in our face and running was very, very hard work.

On the Summit of Cheviot

So far, so good. We hadn't made great pace, but things were ok. But then we hit the bogs of doom. Between the summit of Cheviot and the next hill, Hedgehope Hill, there is a mile of peat hags, which were positively horrendous. More than once, I found myself thigh deep in thick, merciless, strength-sapping clag. It is quite apparent that Northumberland hasn't got the hang of the idea of water flowing downhill, it just hangs around and makes nasty deep morasses for unwary travellers to fall into. 

The photo doesn't really do it justice

Thankfully, Dave didn't get his phone out to take a photo when I was in extremis - I think he was worried about explaining to his mum how he had managed to lose his dad in a bog. We lost count of how many deep, mud-filled, gaps we had to cross, but everytime we thought we'd reached the end of them, we found more! Somewhat amusingly, the Bartholemew's map for the area showed the track we were following as a permitted right of way, with no footpath on the ground - they weren't kidding!

After struggling with the bogs for forty minutes or so, we decided that discretion was the better part of valour and rather than following the hill top ridge back to Ingram, we dropped down on a quad-bike track into the valley and headed back along the road. All in all, we covered 28 miles.

A swift shower, was followed by a walk into Wooler, beer and mountains of food.

On Sunday, we headed further south to the village of Alwinton, were we walked into the hills and picked up the race route going backwards, following it to the summit of Winter's Cairn, where we had a bite to eat and then reversed out tracks to follow the route in the right direction. If it hadn't been for our experiences the day before, I'd have called the ground at the top boggy. Certainly, sitting in a sheep shelter eating cheese rolls with my feet in three inches of water wasn't ideal - but compared to the bogs of doom it was a piece of cake. We had planned to go a bit further, but we were tired (or, at least, I was) from the previous day's exertion. Even the short bit we did was useful however, it gave us an idea of the lie of the land, and we discovered that even though there is no actual footpath to follow, you can make good progress if you follow quad-bike tracks. The trick is finding the right track and not happily wandering off in the wrong direction, just because someone once drove down there.

Perhaps the most interesting feature of Sunday was sharing part of the route with a long-distance horse-riding event. It was quite impressive seeing horses and riders following a steep track out of the valley - a track we will be following come December. Watching the horses got us thinking about the comparisons between human and equine long distance events. On ultra-marathons they provide food, energy gels and the like for the runners. We wondered what they provide on horsey events. Presumably they don't have to feed the riders, they've not done all the work, but do they have bags of hay or some sort of energy food for the horses? 

Over the two days, we covered 39 miles (almost three times the distance that the horses were doing - lightweights). But if the truth be told, there was a lot more walking than running.

Now, the whole point of doing a recce like this is to lean things for the race proper and every time something didn't go quite to plan, I pointed out that it was a learning point. Dave hid his irritation of my constant repeating of the mantra very well! So what were the learning points?

Dave at a "learning point" - where we learned not to follow the wrong quad-bike track

• It is going to be tough. To be honest, the weather was hardly ideal for August, but it's going to be worse in December. The ground will probably be wetter (though August has been very soggy) and the wind could well be even more of a problem.
• I'm not really fast enough. I can keep going and while I'm not yet fit enough for 55 miles in one go, I'm not worried about endurance - but if I'm going to make it in the time limit, I will need to cover the ground faster.
• I'm really worried about the bogs of doom. We struggled with them in full daylight after covering twenty miles, in the race we'll hit them at night, in December having covered closer to fifty miles. At this point, I don't actually see how it would be possible to get over them. Dave suggested that it would be good to run with a large group so that we can help each other through the bogs - I reckon that the best bet would be to throw other people in the bogs and then cross over on them - but you would run out of companions long before you ran out of bogs. 
• I'm going to need some waterproof socks - preferably ones that reach up to my armpits.
• The finger that I damaged during a race a few months back and which is still swollen and mishapen does not like cold winds. It was extremely painful coming down off Cheviot and only really recovered when we hit the bogs of doom, which was a slight consolation.
• I need to lose weight. I know that I've not been as careful about my diet and exercise as I should be since my accident, but I need to stop making excuses.