Wincle Fete cropped up in conversation, late one Friday night last year. Specifically, it was the Wincle Fete sausage catching competition, which seemed pretty exciting. We were 2 bottles in by then but hey!
Sausages launched, sausages caught. Knock-out progression. To be clear, it’s only for dogs, not for humans.
Also, from the story there was even a whiff of jury nobbling, so possibly, a Mafiosi or Singapore syndicate connection. (Note from GVS fictional legal team: there is absolutely no evidence for this)
Also, in the evening there was a band, in a tent, and a late bar. A bit of research later and we had a bed and breakfast all booked.
Oh, yes. Also when we looked it up there is the Trout Run, which sounded fun. And you get a trout.
I found out later, just about everyone in the club has done this run before (not everyone and his dog, obviously, because they were doing the Sausage Catching)
A competitor in the main event
Lets just hope the dog competitions weren’t during the run; clashing with the main Schnauzer on Schnitzel event. They wouldnt do that, surely.
I saw Roy Whittle before the start, but apart from Ita, I think that was it for GVS representation. This year’s run started near the trout farm (!!). It was straight up the road, up some fields, then up and immediately down a knobbly hill, the runners looking like some wheezy conga as the 300 squeezed through the first stile into the woods 10 minutes in. I believe the middle part of the course remains the same each year, though the start rotates from different farmers’ fields (checks website for statistics). It’s about 7k long with 900ft of climbing.
The author leads the way
Are you sure it goes this way?
Ropes? Not me, I’m a plane…
The GVS contingent
Zigzag down from the woods to the river; deep enough to make it advisory to hang onto the rope on crossing. The route soon dropped into the tight rock chasm where I felt the air temp drop for a minute or so as I passed through.
Back up the hill and at the top it was somewhere around Hanging Rock, about a mile from the village finish, that I realised that I had acquired a small rock down the end of my shoe. Presumably picked up in the river. I tried to shift it around, but where the path went downhill it just jammed the rock painfully into my big toe feeling like a jabbing pin. I’ve heard it said, sort out your shoe quickly, or it’ll just cause you problems later, which is wise advice but no-one wants to stop in a race if they can help it. I’d just about decided to stop and deal with it when I heard crowds applauding and shouts through some trees. I decided to tough it out to the end and managed a sort of brisk hobbly hop.
The route spilled out into the road along the finishing bridge, where I could see the fete arena and the ring where apparently athletic dogs were taking turns to jump in the air for some kind of pork based projectile, in the finals of the competition.
Hitting the finish, grateful for the opportunity I finally sat down, shoe off and emptied the half brick from my shoe.
The trouts were collected afterwards from a stall, vacuum packed. I baked mine and it was delicious.
Running has taken a bit of a back seat over the last month or so, due to the move to Whaley Bridge. Writing about running, or anything else, has been even further back. But now we’re in the new house, most of the boxes have been unpacked, and I’ve run out of excuses.
Tuesday night’s social run was the traditional pre-race recce of the Whaley Waltz route, so that marshals and participants have some idea of where they will be going on Saturday. With everyone running in a single group, the faster runners have lots of opportunities for looping back, and for planning the optimum line, while those nearer the back have plenty of opportunities to watch and wonder.
I’ve never done the Waltz, and I seem to have missed out on the recce in previous years, so it was all new to me. Well, except for the bit through the park to Macc Road, and across the fields past the Bowen’s residence to Taxal Church of course, which often features in club runs in one direction or the other. I don’t often do the stretch up the fields to Taxal Moor Road, because it’s much more fun going down, but I appreciated the discussion about whether their correct name is ‘Rectory Fields’ (because the house at the bottom is the old Rectory) or ‘Bastard Fields’ (for a reason which completly escapes me). After that there’s the slog up past Terry’s Tree to Taxal Edge, then along the edge and down and up through the woods to Windgather, and that’s the hard bit done.
A refreshing way to end a Tuesday run
After that, the rest of the run is joyful, fast downhill, finishing with the river crossing in the park – optional on the recce, but obligatory in the race. I decided to keep my powder – and my shoes and shorts, and several other people’s car keys – dry for the race on Saturday. The route is just over 6 miles, lots of the uphill is quite runnable, and the downhill is fantastic. There are still a few places available for Saturday’s race if you haven’t got your entry in yet. Or if you’re feeling lazy, then Lucas can always use a few more marshals. Full details on the GVS website. Thanks to Mary for organising the recce.
See that lump between the posts? That’s where we’re going!
Wednesday was the Hope Wakes Fell Race, which is in this year’s GVS Summer Fell Series for which I want to do at least the five races necessary to qualify, so that meant a second night running of 6-plus miles and quite a bit of up. How hard could that be? 🙂 Wednesday was a beautiful day in Whaley, but the drive to Hope was into cloudier and chillier weather. Lots of people and cars milling around at Hope Sports Club, and I arrived to see the end of one of the junior races. There was a good turnout of Striders – surely not only because the race is a counter for the Summer Fell Series 🙂
Not many people running up Hope Brink
The race route skirts clockwise around Win Hill to the Ladybower side, before heading straight up to the summit and steeply down back to Hope. The ‘skirting’ involves a rising traverse of Hope Brink, which may well be runnable, though from my customary position in the field I didn’t see anybody doing anything other than walking. After reaching the ridge, there’s some downhill – quite muddy and rocky, so no flying down here for the likes of me. Then the route undulates as it parallels the banks of Ladybower reservoir. More mud but fewer rocks, so it doesn’t hurt when you trip and narrowly avoid a full face plant. Then it’s a seemingly very long ascent – directly up, out of the woods, to the summit of Win Hill. It gets steeper as you get nearer the top, and the last few feet involve hands as well as feet. Sadly the views from the top weren’t very impressive as the summit was very definitely in the cloud.
A smiley, friendly marshal
Stunning views…
…mostly
Finally, nothing but downhill. Steep enough that you have to concentrate, but not so steep that you can’t enjoy the effects of gravity. Nearer the bottom, the group of runners in front of me, who I thought had left me way behind, came into view and I was able to close the gap as we descended the fields and the road under the railway, back towards the finish. Sadly, it levelled out before I could actually pass anyone, but the runner just in front of me was close enough as we got towards the sports club that I thought I might catch him, so I tried to find what passes for my sprint finish. Unfortunately it wasn’t quite enough and he finished a little way in front of me, but at least I was suitably knackered and out of breath when I crossed the line.
Several Striders had stayed behind to see me finish and cheer me over the line , and there was plenty of flapjack and squash left at the refreshment tent, so the evening ended on a high note. To cap it all, as I drove home over Rushup Edge, there was a fantastic sunset. It would have made a lovely picture, but I was driving, and the battery on my camera had run out, so you’ll have to take my word for it.
So, this week I learned that if I run 10k / 6 miles, with over 1,000 feet of ascent, on two consecutive days, on the third day I will be quite tired, it will hurt when I try to move, and I definitely won’t feel like joining Helen and friends on a 10 mile walk around Gradbach and the Roaches. On the plus side, I will have the opportunity to sit in the sun, and catch up on my writing.
Now I’m looking forward to the Whaley Waltz, and the rest of the Whaley Bridge Carnival on Saturday tomorrow. I hope I’ll see you there.
Herod Farm is the first race in this year’s GVS Summer Fell series. No-one I’ve spoken to seems to like the race, and just about everyone refers to it as “Horrid Farm”. This is probably because, whereas most shortish fell races go up a hill, along a bit then down the hill again, Herod Farm does that twice. Up the same hill. So I’m not exactly bursting with the thrill of anticipation as I make my way to registration at the Reliance Garage on Turnlee Road in Glossop, on a pleasant Wednesday evening. It’s lucky the weather is warm and dry, as Race HQ is in the open air, and there isn’t a pub within sensible walking distance.
I think the start is somewhere around here
I bump into a few Striders, though I thought there would be a few more: maybe the others are saving themselves for the races that only go up a hill once.
I’m quite relaxed because I’ve been pretty organised (for me). Not only have I completed the registration form in advance, and brought my own safety pins for my race number, I’ve also done a recce. Actually, I’ve done two, but the first one was a minor disaster involving getting a bit lost and a bit cold, and beating a hasty retreat back to the car. The second was OK though – a pleasant morning walk with Helen, taken at a relaxed pace, in very pleasant weather – and I’m quite happy that I know what’s coming and where I’m going. I even have a plan!
I’ve mentioned before that I have a running mantra which goes: “You’re doing this to enjoy yourself, no need to rush, it’s not a race!”. This works quite well for me, even when it actually is a race. I’m not that interested in racing, I know I’m not going to win, and there’s no-one I’m desperate to beat, so I can focus on running purely for the joy of it. So my plan, for pretty much every run I do is:
Remember you’re here to enjoy yourself
Don’t go off too fast
Run when you can, if it doesn’t hurt too much
Walk when you need to
Walk even when you don’t need to, if you know there are some tough bits coming
This doesn’t mean I don’t push myself: there’s a lot of enjoyment to be had from getting out of my comfort zone, and from pushing myself and running hard when I can. And there’s enjoyment from the improvement that happens when I do push myself.
One view from the back…
Anyway, point 5 pretty much covers the first part of the route, the track up to Herod Farm, and point 4 takes me me up to the crest of the hill – the end of the first trip up Whiteley Nab. Then it’s a fun lollop across the moor towards Monks Road, before turning at Herod Edge Farm – Thank you marshal! – where the serious downhill to Simmondley begins. (Lollop is a good word: there are a number of different definitions: please choose whichever definition best suits the mental picture you may or may not have in your head just now.)
…and another
The good thing – one of the good things – about being at or near the back of a race, is that the field is quite spread out – actually I’m not sure I can see any other runners at all just now – and you can go at whatever pace takes your fancy without having to dodge or show consideration for other runners. So now I can fly (slight exaggeration perhaps) downhill through heather and across fields until I reach the path before the houses at Simmondley – Hello and thank you another marshal!
More lolloping, some crossing of muddy streams, past Whiteley Nab Farm, and then I’m outside the Pennine Care Home, where some serious point 5 kicks in again, up a track past some posh-looking houses. When I reach the field, there’s a very long bit of point 4: real runners might be able to run the first bit, but I’d pay good money to see anyone actually run the last couple of hundred yards to the top of the Nab. Even walking, I’ve pushed myself quite hard by the time I get to the top, so a quick sip of water, some incoherent words to a marshal, and it’s back to pleasant running around the top of the Nab, before the lovely long downhill across fields and – carefully this time, let’s not have a fall here – through heather, down to the track and let gravity take me to the finish.
I’ve finished, and it wasn’t actually that horrid, but mostly because there was lots of points 4 and 5, so the race as a whole for me was a mixture of a fairly pleasant run, and a good, stiff walk. Which is OK, but I’d prefer something where I can actually run a bit more and walk a bit less. Something like the Rainow 5 maybe, which happens to be in a couple of weeks 🙂
These llamas are not at Herod Farm, they’re somewhere else entirely…
…but I didn’t take enough pictures at Herod Farm
Thirteen Striders made the long trip to Glossop, with James Rees first GVS gent, in 28:43, and Linette Ruston first GVS lady in 38:48. Thanks to Glossopdale Harriers for organising the race. See you next year.
Sometimes being wrong is OK – misreading a map, ignorance, and not doing a recce can sometimes be blessings in disguise. But more of that later…
The Whitehall Wiggle is my first real race in this year’s club championship: Lyme Parkrun and the Pavilion Gardens 5k are timed runs rather than races (and being a road event, the latter has no place in any civilised club championship 🙂 At least it’s the only one I have to do this year). It’s the first time this year that my running mantra – “You’re doing this to enjoy yourself, no need to rush, it’s not a race!” – doesn’t quite work. Still, it’s only a mantra – I don’t think there’s any legal requirement for running mantras to be strictly correct, so we’ll let it go.
An athlete prepares…
There’s a good turnout of Striders, and fifty-odd other runners, milling about in the centre, pinning on numbers, chatting about race tactics and split times, and eyeing up the impressive display of cakes waiting to be consumed after the race. As the clock nears 11:00, we head away from the cakes, outside for the start. The race starts at the back of the Whitehall Centre, runs along Old Road for a while until it heads off-road for an anti-clockwise lap of Ladder Hill, taking in the track of Long Lane and a bit more of Old Road, then a lovely long down hill into Combs village, before heading back up to the finish at Whitehall (and the cakes).
Not long till the cakes…
Soon after the start, I’m in my customary position, getting on first name terms with the tail runner – hello Nigel – and plodding along happily. There’s a friendly Strider face in sight though, and Melanie Watts and I swap places a few times, with me slightly faster on the downhills, but Mel faster on the flat and the uphills. The running is grand on the tour of Ladder Hill, with not too much walking on the uphills. And the downhill into Combs is great, except for the big dark cloud on the horizon (a metaphorical one, the actual weather is lovely).
A view from the back, of Ladder Hill
As most Striders will know, looking across to Combs and Chapel from Ladder Hill, the view is dominated by the sight of Combs Edge, looming intimidatingly from Castle Naze all the way round to somewhere above the Whitehall Centre. I didn’t do a recce for the Wiggle, because I know the area quite well, from running, and from staying with friends who lived just down the road from Whitehall when we moved up from London many years ago. I did spend some time studying the route map though, working out where the race went as it lapped Ladder Hill, and noting the long descent into Combs. I didn’t look too closely at the rest of the route – obviously it’s going to be uphill, because we’ve got to get back to Whitehall, but I don’t want to know the details. I’ll probably be walking, and with luck the marshals won’t have given up and gone home by the time I get there. Mostly though, I didn’t want to think about it because – for no good reason that I can think of looking back on it – I’ve convinced myself that the route must go up onto Combs Edge, and that does look like a horribly long climb, and I hope all the cake won’t have gone by the time I finish.
So as I’m flying (poetic licence) down the road into Combs, I’m trying – and failing – to stop myself looking over at the Alpine Himalayan-scale climb to Combs Edge, thinking (and swearing to myself) about how hard and unpleasant it’s going to be, wondering how long it’s going to take to get all the way up there, and whether there will be any cakes left if I do.
I’m not looking forward to going up there…
Luckily, I don’t have to
Imagine my surprise and delight when a friendly marshal (is there any other kind?) smilingly directs me up a track that leads away from Combs Edge, and climbs at a pleasantly runnable – even for me – gradient, through a couple of farms to a flattish stretch, and possibly even some downhill, before the final steep – not runnable – pull up the hill back to the centre. It’s a long enough uphill for Mel to overtake me again, and build a lead too big for me to pull back on the last short downhill to the finish (and the cakes), but nowhere near as tough as the climb to Combs Edge would have been. Sometimes being wrong is OK…
The cakes were worth the effort too, especially that flapjack which contained just enough oats to hold the huge amounts of syrup and sugar into a vaguely solid cuboid: my best sugar buzz of the year so far!
There were some great performances by the participating Striders, with Nathan Porter in 11th place, beating Aidan Grant in 12th by just 2 seconds. That would have been fun to watch, but I was a little too far back to have a good view. Special mentions for Rebecca Sullivan – 1st Lady Of A Certain Age – and Mike Hudson – 1st Gent Significantly Older Than The Ladies Of A Certain Age. I hope they both enjoyed the bottles of wine they won (although as Mike had to leave before prize giving and Helen Parry offered to take Mike’s bottle for him, he may not have seen it). Due to an oversight, there was again no prize for 1st Gent With A Coronary Stent And A Couple Of Screws In His Leg, so I went away happy, but empty-handed (apart from another piece of that flapjack).
Thanks to the Thomas Theyer Foundation and the Whitehall Centre for putting on a great race. Thanks too to all the volunteers and marshals who made the event run so smoothly. And special thanks to whoever made that flapjack. Whether or not the race is in next year’s championship (I’m sure it will be), I’d recommend everyone to turn up. If you don’t fancy running, I’m sure they’d welcome some help marshalling. Or just turn up to support and cheer the runners on. Did I mention that the cakes are very good? See you there next year.
Late in 2018 an idea was formed to have a run for 40 miles or so, to celebrate Sarah’s 40th Birthday. And so the idea became a reality.
The Four Inns is a 40 mile race organised by Derbyshire Scouts and has been running each year since 1957. The route starts at Holmbridge and takes in the high moors of the Dark Peak, passing Black Hill, Crowden, Bleaklow, Kinder, Edale, Rushup, Chapel, Stakeside and Buxton.
So who were Team 5? Chris Bowen was the team leader, with myself, Shaun Hall and Matt Walker; our team name was the Extra Stooges. In Sarah Fanthorpe-Smith’s team were Roy Whittle, James Hobson and Neilio Colquhoun; team name was Mrs P and the Stooges. Arriving at the start venue on the Friday evening we were soon erecting our tents in the field next to the church hall. As it was fairly mild, we decided that camping might be the best option. We thought it would be quieter than on the floor of the hall. Once our tents were up we booked ourselves in and collected our tally cards for the next day. As we had opted for an early start we were allocated our breakfast time slot which was at 4:15am. At this point were were beginning to question the merits of the early start, but it was OK – an early night and good night’s sleep and we would be fine. So, tent up and what to do next? Oh yes, pub! There was a quite nice one over the road which brews its own beer. We were really good and only had one drink so we could get to bed in good time and so have an early start.
Soon after getting into bed we sort of realised that the night might not go according to plan … “ding dong” ! At this point the penny dropped as to why there might be only a few tents outside. The church hall was next to the church, which had a clock tower. Yes, every 15 minutes it chimed, and no, it didnt stop at 12, or any other hour, it chimed every 15 mins all night long. Fantastic! I can do a 40 mile race with no sleep – honest!
Early morning breakfast approx 4:30am
At 4am my alarm goes off, time to get up. Well I was awake already! So, get dressed and into the hall for breakfast. People were by now beginning to get ready and the breakfast room was busy. Suitably nourished, it was off to the kit checking tables at 5am. There was a big sigh of relief that the man was happy with our kit, then off to pull our tents down. Once all packed away it was back into the hall to wait for the start, which for us was 6:04am. Sarah and her team (No. 4) set off two minutes before us, but as agreed we soon caught each other up and as it was just about daylight, timing was perfect to make the most of the light.
Out of Holmbridge is a longish slog up a fairly steep hill, so it was worth saving our energy at this point. However, it soon flattened out and we began to make good progress. The weather was fine but quite cold as we climbed, but higher up to we noticed the clag was beginning to get thicker. Once we had handed in our tally at the Isle of Skye checkpoint it was off once again, this time along the Pennine Way up to Black Hill Trig. The route so far was fairly easy going as much of it was paved with the usual slabs. These continued along the Pennine way past Black Hill but we weren’t going that way, instead a glance to the left revealed the boggy path we were going to take. The path from here is, shall we say, at best, intermittent! We were dodging the worst of the boggy sections as we passed over Tooleyshaw Moss. I think we spent nearly as much time going sideways as forwards. After a while things began to improve and the path became more defined and progress improved. From Tooleyshaw Moor we dropped down and then up White Low. The path here is very wet and crosses over some small groughs. It was while crossing these that Shaun won the prize for sinking into the deepest bog, basically up to the top of his thigh. However only one leg bizarrely: he soon managed to extricate himself and, luckily, didn’t lose a shoe. Apparently it was a close thing! So after a bit of amusement we pressed on heading towards the second checkpoint at Hey Edge. There is an unused trig pillar here but not much else. We handed in our tally cards and headed off again. At this point Sarah and her team, as expected, had got a minute or two ahead of us – no surprises though as they are all faster runners than we are.
Team 5 Beginning the descent down to Crowden
As we descended steeply down towards Crowden, we were greeted by the friendly face of Pete Ambrose. He was supposed to be a member of Sarah’s team but sadly had to pull out due to injury. It’s really nice to see friendly faces along the route and it’s always nice to have the support of fellow club members on these events. Soon the third checkpoint at Crowden was reached. Here was an opportunity to fill our water bottles and take in some of the food that was on offer. After a short while we were under way again. The weather by now was beginning to warm up nicely and the sun was coming out. The next section is along the valley bottom, then across the road and on to Torside Dam. Over the dam and up to the fourth checkpoint. Here it was a case of hand in our tallies and have a slice of Jam Roly-Poly to give us a burst of energy to get us up the long climb up to Bleaklow. This is a hard climb, rocky in places, but as we have now re-joined the Pennine Way the path is well defined. We did make a slight error veering off slightly, but soon corrected this though and we weren’t making life easy for ourselves. Onwards and upwards, the path soon begins to level out, but as it’s along an edge with a fairly steep drop to the left I was taking things easy. Chris, Matt and Shaun were making better time along here but soon I caught up. We then had a choice of routes: either go over the moors of Bleaklow, or go off to the left and follow the Pennine Way. A team passed us and went over the top. We decided to follow the Pennine Way, the logic being that the path would be easier going than the boggy and rougher terrain over the top of Bleaklow. As we passed Bleaklow Head we began to follow a grough on the way down. This became easier going and we started to run faster on this stretch as we approach the Doctor’s Gate Path turn off. Appearing on the right was the team who passed us earlier on, so they hadn’t gained much by going the shorter route. At the end of Doctor’s Gate, we reached checkpoint number five. Here there was more food and water to replace what’s needed. Meat and veggie hot dogs available but for some reason I decided not to have one which was probably a mistake. Pete had joined us again and informed us that Sarah’s team was by now about 40 minutes ahead of us. We knew they were going to gain more ground over us. Next was a short section of road down to the Snake Inn and the sixth checkpoint.
On leaving the Snake we headed over the road and begin the climb up Kinder. When we did a reccy, we realised there was an easier way up: determined to find it we kept climbing and missed it again. So, best get on hands and knees again and drag ourselves up to the top by the Seal Stones. Once up there we saw the better path again below, too late now! The weather was now beginning to get quite warm, even on the top of Kinder, in fact probably too warm for yours truly who was still well wrapped from the cold morning. I think around this time I was beginning to get way too warm, but continued on and over the short crossing before descending steeply into Grindsbrook Clough. Passing the Nags Head, Edale checkpoint seven was soon upon us, so tally card handed in, and water and food obtained – a cheese butty for me. After a bit of a pause, we were off again towards Barber Booth and the next ascent, that of Chapel Gate Path. By now, here in Edale, it was really hot and I was beginning to suffer. Chris, Shaun and Matt were doing better than me in the heat. At the top of Chapel Gate I had to adjust my layers as I was beginning to overheat and this was making my progress very slow. Yes I was going through a bad patch. It happens, but you know when you are part of a team you will not get left behind. Pete was with us again at the end of Chapel Gate as was Shaun’s family. After a few hellos we were soon heading down towards Chapel again. Helen Parry was waiting for us on the track here along the way.
Heading Downhill towards Chapel-en-le Frith
As we ran down the road, Nathan & Charlotte passed us in the car, though they caught us walking a bit as they drove past. Not long and we were entering the township of Chapel. After a quick hello from Lesley and Mike Hudson, we were soon at the eighth checkpoint in Chapel. Tally handed in and food eaten, a cup of tea for me, and a longer pause while Shaun said hello to his family. Sarah’s team were by now just over an hour ahead of us. The organisers put the times on boards as each team passes through. Off again along the track to Combs. It was now a gorgeous afternoon and people were sat outside the Beehive pub – I remember thinking how a pint would go down well at that point, but we had a few more miles still to do. The climb up to the White Hall centre was no easy feat this far into the challenge. Passing a few others we made it to the centre which is the penultimate checkpoint. Here the rice pudding went down a treat. It was busy with people coming in and out. Having got here, we were beginning to feel that perhaps we were now nearer to the end of the challenge, but we had one more punishing climb to do. After descending down to Errwood, we had Stakeside next – a long drag when you have already done 30-plus hilly miles. Slow, but once at the top a bit of a trot on to the final checkpoint at the Cat ‘n’ Fiddle. Final tally handed in, and it was seemingly a quicker in and out, as we headed down to Derbyshire Bridge before the final and much shorter hill over the top towards Burbage. Final visit from Helen and Pete, complete with cow bells, as we descended Macclesfield Old Road. From the lights at Burbage, it was up Green Lane to the community school, and we were finished.
Always good to see a friendly face…with cowbells!
At the end we were greeted by Sarah with cake and prosecco, not sure my stomach was happy about that, but it was really nice to see some of the members of Team 4 again. Total time for us was 13 hrs and 11 minutes. My original plan was just about 12 something or other. We were a bit outside that but were not necessarily in a rush to break any records. I had my bad patch but picked up towards the end and Shaun too had to keep stopping due to chafing issues – I’m not saying where! It’s now a few days after, would I do it again? Probably, but I might do it differently by picking better lines over the moors and better nutrition along the way. Team 5 finished 27th .Sarah’s Team were 22nd (out of 79 finishers) – Job done!
