The New Glossop Fell Race (AL) (TT)

 First of all, don't get excited about the title thinking there is a new AL Glossop fell race. The "new"ness of it simply distinguishes it from the "old" Glossop fell race- which I believe was discontinued in 1987 or so. The "new" route was run in 1994, and maybe once again in 1996, but was discontinued because of permission issues. (oh how modern). 

Both the Old and the New route cross A roads- the Old crossing the A628 twice in pretty lairy places, and the New crosses the A57 Snake in slightly less lairy, but still objectively not undangerous places. I can't think of many other AL races that require you to cross A roads, but in this case, it doesn't detract from the character of the route. 

Why was I doing this? Glossopdale Harriers have had a year long "champs" series with a different route being the subject of a Timetrial in each month. This gives significant advantages in terms of participation, picking a decent day, or just a convenient day- which has meant that participant numbers have been massively up on any other champs over the past few years. Octobers challenged was the "New" Glossop Fell Race. The only AL in this years calendar, and one of the few routes around here that I've never actually run as a route in and of itself. Previous fell routes in the series have been the classic 3 trigs and the Shelf moor race route, which although amusing, in a time trial format probably don't lend themselves to a specific blog. This one though is a little different, simply as there is so little information out there on the route so a blog is necessary. 

So here we are. No photos at all for this- I was trying pretty hard from the off, you'll just have to accept this is text only. Just pretend you're reading it on teletext or something. 

It's Saturday morning, a decent if cool day, on my back is a small bag with FRA race kit, plus a small amount of extra food and an emergency bag and a warm layer just in case I end up doing something silly (or finding someone in a worse position than myself). I wander from the house to the start line at the Turning circle on Shepley street with Lynne, and as she turns to go back in order to head off to a market to sell some ceramics, I head out up the track towards the hills. 

This is a long race route- about 34km and 1200m ascent. I have a couple of times that I'd like to hit in terms of the first half, but have no idea what will happen after that. Ideally, Shelf Moor trig (CP1) should be about 30 mins in, Alport (CP2) might take about an hour... maybe?, and I *might* get to the Snake- technically halfway... but not really- it's the furthest point out, but not actually halfway- in about 1:30. At the time I started, my inkling was that this was about a 32km route (no... I didn't actually check) and thought that it would be amazing to finish in 3:30. The key to a fast time- or at least a time close to that- would be to keep as many kilometre segments at below 6 mins per km- that way if it was flat I'd be on for a sub 3 hour 30k, but with the hills there would be some kilometres that would be considerably slower, so I'd have to claw back as much as I could on the "flat" sections.... 32k in 3:30? hmmm.

Off up out of Glossop, a quick turnover up past the Owl barn, the red of the sunrise briefly lights up the sky as I pass Spring cabin and up James Thorn past the pond- crossing the fence at about 25 mins. Don't want to go too fast too early, especially as I didn't bring any water. This might be a mistake and that thought is already occuring in the back of my mind... I have a couple of gels which are *very* liquidy, and I might be able to convince myself that they're watery enough to consider to be hydration... and I'm well on my way now, so.. oh well, no water for the next few hours then.

Up and across the moor to Shelf Trig, a look at the watch and I'm on 34 mins. A couple of mins slower than hoped for, but then, considering recent form- I've been a bit faster in my head than in real life (yes darling, I'll only be gone an hour.... oh THAT took longer than expected... sorry!)... Touch the trig and belt off down towards Herne clough via the B29. Quiet as anything, no-one else around yet. The trod takes you down and direct into Herne basin- with that funny tree with two vertical branches out up to the North (Must go and take a photo of that at some point), and down the clough to the gate into the Swamp where I fumble the latch for a moment, thinking "gah- there's a few seconds that I won't get back... bet I'll pay for them later).

Into the Alport- there is a choice... head up to the ridge and along the top to Alport trig, or down the Alport itself, with a steep climb up out of Miry clough to the trig is the question. I opt for the trip down the Alport valley, always a delight. The trod wends it's way down the North side of the valley providing you with amazing views all the way down. Quick steps are needed to get over the tricky bits of ground, and I look ahead to check where the ascent line from the valley to get the trig is. I see a bit of a ramp out of the valley too early to be the line I'm looking for- it's a sheep trod, and it takes you to the top... again, it's a bit early- promising some tough bog crossing and heavy running to get to the trig, but it is an alternative to going the slightly longer route around (on good runnable trods) and then the climb to the top. 

On a whim I go for the route I've never taken before, trying to run as much of it as possible. A slight increase in effort and quickly start looking about for the sheep trods through reeds and across fairly significant boggy mire... looking up, there should be a trig. There is not. It is a fair amount further on than anticipated. Well, it would be silly to go back to the runnable trod, now far below- might as well make a decent fist of it and bash onward. Trying to get above the drainage, I stay high, fairly confident there will be a sheep trod somewhere around. I keep the pace high and head upward, continuing towards the highest part of the horizon and am eventually rewarded with a trod. A glance at the watch and I'm still sub hour. Just.... 

At last the trig comes into view and it draws me in- touching the stone pillar at 1:00:17. Happy with that- but I'd best eat something. The track from here to Birchen Hat is pretty well defined (if a tad boggy in places), so I take advantage of the ease in terrain to eat a Shotblok and settle into as comfortable rhythm as possible down toward the next checkpoint, which is the wall at the top of Birchen. 

Easy running gets me there in short order, and on the way to the descent to Alport farm a solitary walker wanders past with a "good morning". No map needed for the descent, and my thoughts turn to those who created this route as a race- they certainly knew their way around these hills and how to make it a bit of a challenge! It isn't a fast descent, but it isn't the most technical either, and soon enough I ford across to the path up to the farm and my thoughts turn to the fast concrete trail down to the Snake. A chance to get some speed up to mitigate the slow ascent that is coming on the other side of the A57. 

When the race was run back in the day, the competitors were allowed to turn right at the road, head directly up it to the layby at Blackden and from there, go up Blackden clough. The rules for our TT dictated that under NO circumstances should this route be followed- even during the 2 week closure of Snake for repairs. The alternative adds on a bit of distance, but, more significantly the terrain underfoot is considerably worse than running up an A road. 

I crossed the ford on the Ashop at exactly 1:30 bang on time and was very ready for the pace to slow a lot as fatigue would inevitably take hold of my legs. A couple of shotbloks got stuffed down my throat and the map was dug out to check exactly what I needed to do next. Up toward the farm, around it and then a decent bit of bashing- either through vast amounts of bracken around the border of open access land, or following a decent track, and then bash through more bracken at a different level, about 100m higher up the hill, only to drop to the bottom of Blackden. This latter route had been the one I took at the beginning of the year on the Kinder Killer. Unless there was a decent sheep trod through the bracken at a lower level, that was going to have to be the plan. 

Up the hill and following the wall, there was a stealthy sheep trod that was generally well trodden right the way along the wall line. (I suspect previous GDHers have followed the same path and might have done me a favour with the treading down of the bracken), so the decision was made to stay low and hug the wall. The route was relatively speedy, though there were a number of trip/shin bashing hazards that needed to be avoided... that and the constant danger of barbed wire at face height, combined with fairly slippy ground made me pretty wary of attempting to go too fast. Coming around the corner I spied a barn. 

A Barn? What the hell? I'm meant to be coming in to Blackden. DAMN I've come too far... but I can't have done. I never crossed Blackden. Stop. Think. Look. Dig out map while looking at the features... I'm being a complete idiot... look, there is the layby, that's the hill you run down- you're looking at Seal edge, NOT Fairbrook naze. Put your map away and keep going- you are *exactly* where you think you are- stop second guessing yourself. That's another minute you aren't going to get back.... in fact, so close to Blackden- there is a big haul of a climb coming up, it's about time to have some "water"- the first gel goes down... mmm. Pretend it's orange juice. 

Thirst somewhat satiated, brain working ok(ish), the climb up Blackden begins. It's a great little climb with some lovely waterfalls, but some fairly objective dangers- not least next to the most spectacular fall- the erosion of the path has continued, so if you're heading up that way, don't be a pillock and take your time. The climb took a decent amount of time, and it must have been about 2 hours into the run before I got to the top. From here it is still a good way home- and it certainly isn't going to take less than an hour. So I wonder if 3:30 might be a goer?

Stuffing a fake snickers down my neck I start the run along the Northern edge of Kinder. Whenever I've run along here I've ALWAYS been knackered. It's kind of the accepted route home from this end of the Peak for me, so I associate it with being tired, cold, un-coodinated and generally tripping over things. Thankfully there is still a fair amount of glucose in my system and some semblence of a normal running gait is assumed. There are probably a load of "shortcuts" to get across this edge of the plateau in short order. I don't know them well enough to be certain of them, so stick to the edge path. Or one of them- there appear to be several now. Passing amazing rock formations, my brain consistently goes back to the thought that I really must run up here when I'm not totally knackered. 

Past Chinese wall, out towards the top of Fairbrook I cut down and up to a faint diagonal trod that brings me across to Fairbrook Naze. Unsure if this is gaining me time by being clever, or losing me time through being less runnable than the alternative, I find myself not really caring. The mushroom stone comes into view and by rights I should now plummet off the top down towards the Ashop. I'm older now, and my knees are less keen on "plummetting" quite as much as they used to be. Down to the fence, over that and then onward to the moor where a load of sheep get scared by a runner bashing across the moor and then tumbling into a bunch of heather. First fall of the day. Ah well. It had to happen at some point. 

Brush down, get up. Keep going. 

There is a line of grousebutts that I aim for, and then a quad track down to the Ashop, a bridge and the old Ashop Shooting Cabin ruins. Perfect- across and up onto the track for a jaunty jog westwards toward where I'm going to have to bash up through some more heather. Second gel goes down- again, pretend it's orange juice, and now really start concentrating on where you're putting your feet. I've come up this path in a race before. It was the end of a 12 hour adventure race- we were knackered and walking by this point- right now, I'm struggling to maintain pace, but the gel helps. 

Along and along- I can't remember where I need to turn- but it is definitely after the nightmare that is Withins clough. The next checkpoint is Moss Castle - the highest point of the Pennine Way flagstones on this bit of moor. Passing Withins, I ensure I don't go up there, and carrying on, I decide not to wait til the next clough- I'll take a bearing and bash on up this heather. How bad can it be?

Bad. 

For a couple of reasons. 1) underfoot it was generally crap and 2) the race route goes TO that un-named clough- it was a checkpoint that I had failed to put on my map. I missed it by about 200 yards because of lack of attention to detail in my preparation... 

Unaware of this point, I bashed up through this heather, checking my location on the map, choosing my way as fast as possible and eventually came out at Moss castle. Looking to my left was the clough I *should* have come up... it looked a LOT easier. (at this stage I merely went "meh - that would have been a better and faster route" rather than realising I'd missed a checkpoint). 

Moss Castle. Flags and paths from now on. It's just gone 3 hours... how long does it take to get home from here? It's definitely more than 30 mins. I hammered along the flags as fast as my legs would let me and reached Snake at 3:15. Now it is definitely going to take me more than 15 mins to get down Drs Gate, especially in the state I'm in. Ok, I *could* try and go as fast as I possibly can, but to be honest, I'm way more likely to do myself a mischief, and at the end of the day, I'd rather be un-injured than chase a crazy fast time. The final shotbloks get eaten and I head for Old Woman and then turn down Drs. Gate, trying to keep my kilometre splits as low as possible. The steepness and sharpness of the rocks on the descent slow me up a while. The bogs- meh- whatever, I plough through them regardless without pussyfooting around looking for rocks to stand on. 3:30 comes and goes, will a 3:45 happen? I think back to the fumbled gates, the standing around wondering if I was in the right place and the crappy heathery ascent out of Ashop... will they conspire against me? 

Past James Thorn, my legs are hurting, I really want to stop. I'm calculating just how fast I need to do the last 2km... but where exactly do the last 2 km go from? I have no idea. Along past Mossy Lea farm, through the gates and onto the track. A family spread out wide across the track with dog leads strewn this way and that, wandering along totally oblivious to me attempting to run as fast as possible behind them... "uh- excuse me?"... and ANOTHER lot! gah! 400m to go, and I look at my watch- 3:44:20 or so- this isn't going to happen. that damn gate! I stumble across the line at the turning circle in 3:45:32. 

Close enough- but no cigar. 

What an amazing route! 

The subsequent minutes were spend wandering around in a daze. Got home, had shower, looked at my route and realised DAMN! I missed a checkpoint that I didnt even realise was a checkpoint! Oh no! - (However, I DID manage to get 32km done in 3:30- it's just the route was 2.9km longer than anticipated).... still- a missed checkpoint. Shocker. What to do? Go back and do it again? I have time this month, so it isn't out of the question....

 Well- 

Having been contacted by the TT organisers, they're letting my time stand. The idea of the club TT's is to get people out of their comfort zones, and if there is a minor deviation from the route, that isn't too bad, so long as you aren't massively deviating from it- so I don't *need* to do it again. Phew. I still have a dissertation to write....

However... Now I wonder if that unnamed clough route is faster? Without fumbling those gates, and faffing with maps, a sub 3:45 is definitely a goer. 3:40 even? 

I might take some water next time.

 

Hodgeson Brothers Mountain Relay- Leg 4 2021

It has certainly been a long time since I actually ran a race, and this one certainly counts. My recollection might not be the best, simply because it was a couple of weeks ago and there simply hasn't been time for me to write stuff down, (I don't have much time here today either, but here goes anyway).

Leg 4- as, it seems, is always the case for me. Never ran any of the other legs, but to be honest, I love this leg anyway, so don't really mind. The main problem is knowing when you're going to be needed for the leg and being in the right place at the right time. Somewhat geekily I have a spreadsheet with the times of previous relays detailing who ran and the times it took, in order to get a handle as to how long each leg might take, and when we might be expected to need to be at Sykeside campsite for the handover. 

The worst case scenario would be not being there when our guys came in- a bit of an embarrasing predicament to be in- so we generally tend to go on the cautious side of when to be there. 

Based on our estimations we probably wouldn't need to be at Sykeside until about 12:45 or so, so Chris and I saw off the guys on Leg 1 and then wandered off to the Pavillion to grab a cup of tea. Most importantly, we also bought some cake. The biggest mistake of the last relays we went to was seeing all the cake at the beginning and thinking "yep.... looking foward to that" and then coming in at the end of the last leg, and being faced with the dregs of the table rather than the riches we'd seen at the beginning... (word to the wise there...). 

The weather was pretty crappy, so we sat around outside the pavillion under the shelter, chatting with Judith J and passing the time of day... oooh! the Paris-Roubaix had started, and Chris has some decent signal- so we scurried across to the car inbetween showers and settled in to watch an hour or so of cyclists getting ever more mud splattered and exhausted. The rain came and went. And came and went. etc. Rainbows, blue sky and squalls were obviously the mark of the day. 

Eventually it got to midday and we had a bit of lunch, got changed and started a warm up plod over to the Campsite. It's about 4-5km away, so a nice easy half hour or so trot. Don't want to get there too early because otherwise you're standing around in the cold for an age. There isn't a whole lot of mobile signal around this area (unless your name is Chris, it seems) so getting updates as to how fast your team is going is very hit and miss. The original team was somewhat kyboshed by various impressive injuries, so we weren't expecting to be somewhere up in the placings today- it was just going to be a good day out in the hills for everyone- and a re-introduction to the racing scene. 

On the jog over to the campsite there was a steady stream of the fast ladies and lads from the teams who had already completed their Leg3 and sent Leg4 on their way. Chris commented that there were no other people running the same direction as us, but hey, that wasn't a problem. 

Got to the Campsite/transition at about 1240 and had a chat with the Ladies from thr Mixed Pennine team who had just finished 3- (I think the team went on to win the Mixed prize) and then stood around, chewing the fat and waiting. John Pollard, the Glossopdale taxi driver (as it were) turned up to tell us when Immy and Mark had left on Leg 3, which gave us some idea of how long we had to wait, and Wioleta also came along, having done her stuff on Leg 1. 

We stood and waited, watching team after team come in and transition (mostly relatively seamlessly...) and at 1305 the call came- "5 minutes to the mass start!". Crikey. I've never been in a mass start before. That could be interesting... and a couple of short minutes later a pair of familiar figures came bombing down the track...  1208! "oooh - that's pretty close to the mass start" said one of the officials.... "We've got 2 damn minutes" was the reply. 

Enough time to do a rendition of "Im a little teapot" .. "Oh no- Im a sugar bowl..."

Transition!

Off we go. I know Chris is fitter than me at the moment (ok, not just at the moment... period), so today was mostly going to be an exercise in telling him to slow down on the ups and try to make him hurt on the downs. Pass the dibber to him and we hare off down the track toward Checkpoint 1- just by the bridge. We can already see a team ahead of us. Dib at the bridge and then the slog up begins. Up through the ferns and mud, taking great gasps of air as we attempt to warm our systems up. The rain seems to have stopped for the time being and neither of us are wearing waterproofs. First team gets overtaken just at the next bridge and we break into a run up the path... 3 more teams ahead of us on the path are just in sight- so something to aim for. 

Previously we chatted about the route up to checkpoint 2- Hart Crag- shall we do the same as ever and go up the path before hanging right after the steps, or shall we go right early and try the offroad path? The answer was stick with what we know. I got overtaken on the steps by Tom Brunt one year. If it's good enough for him, it's good enough for me. 

As we head towards the steps about 4 or 5 teams can be seen on the offroad version over to our right, but we stick to what we know, up and up. The rain comes in- hard. Neither of us bothers to put on a jacket- it'll be past in a few minutes and we're not intending to be out for too long. The 3 teams on the path are picked off one by one- the final pair right at the top, just before it flattens out momentarily. Yes- over to the right we can still see a number of teams making their way up the hillside. We can see the summit, and so now hang a right and drop from the path. 

I'd love to say that "in short order we were at the top of the hill", but seem to recall that it was a bit more of a struggle than that... however, we'd certainly made up some decent time thus far. Chris dibbed at the top and I set off across the slippy stones trying not to do any damage to myself. We slightly cocked up the route to the descent, losing maybe half a minute or so, but were swiftly on the right path, and down into the col before the next ascent, another few teams ahead of us. 

Chris led the ascent up and over to Fairfield with me dragging along behind- not really able to tell him to slow down through my ragged gasps, but somehow I managed to stay in touch. We took a slight detour round a lump which I had never done before, no idea if it saved any time whatsoever, then across to the descent off Fairfield to Cofa Pike- my favourite part of the whole route. 

Yes, there are a number of teams who drop right down below the pike and along under the scree, but a) I dont know that route and b) the bit over Cofa is downright fun. 

A blat down the scree before the Pike took another 2 teams, and then another just as we hit the scrambly bit. This is the only part where I know I can happily go as hard as I like and Chris will just about manage to keep in touch with me (I suffer for the other 90% of the route) and so jsut enjoy myself for the rocky scrambling over the Pike. On the downhill I manage to stuff a gel down my neck in anticipation of the ascent to St, Sunday and the inevitable suffering that Chris is going to rain down on me. 

Another couple of pairs are passed, and we head up St. Sunday. Chris jogging easily. Me... really not. Not my finest time up that particular hill- having to walk much more than in previous years, but we topped out eventually- knowing there was yet another team who had done so just a bit before us- the chance to get a final extra place on the way down, perhaps?

From the Checkpoint we aimed slightly right, down across some boulders and grass and hit the trod- yes, a team below us- so we opened up and gleefully descended down the hill- it's pretty much downhill all the way from here. Down and down to a slight col before the traverse around Birks. We caught up and overtook that team just before the col, and continued on... goodness... ANOTHER team ahead of us in the distance... Chris say YES- we'll get them, I'm thinking well, we're a bit close to the end now, I'm not totally sure- we might be in a sprint out at the end... but we give chase. 

End

Overtaking Chris on the descent we come down into sight of the final checkpoint on Thornhow End, and the Cricket ground below. The team in front have just dibbed but don't seem confident of the right way down. Brilliant. We scream off the side of the hill, through the gate and Chris dibs as I skirt round the side and down the descent. We overtake on the steepest part just as the horrendously slippy steps appear. 

Fast feet down the steps .. there are a lot more than you think they are. A slight pause for Chris who got caugt up between the other pair, and we clatter off down the hill. Remember which side each of the gates open, so you don't waste time looking for a latch at the hinge end, and onto the road for the final section. Although it's downhill- which I love, it's road and non-technical and Chris stretches out ahead. Trying to keep up, I know we're within 400 metres of the end, and I'm very much in danger of being sick... just hold on til the end. Round a couple of corners and a final sprint in to the end.

Done. 

1:20ish. Not the fastest we've ever done (and I know Chris could have gone faster), but we started in 57th place and ended in 40th. Pretty happy with that. 

(Granddayout Photography have got some excellent pics of Leg 4- Chris and I are on page 26 - https://www.granddayoutphotography.co.uk/portfolio524456p26.html )

And now I need to get on with a dissertation.

Dirty Reiver 2020/2021

 This was a long time in coming. I originally entered this for the 2020 edition, which inevitably got cancelled/ re-arranged. I held on for the first rearrangement last October, then decided to get my money back for the second re-arrangement for this Spring, and then entered again for the 4th attempt of running it in September 2021. 

To say that I'm not in quite as good shape as I was back for the 2019 edition is a slight understatement. Perhaps the reason for this was that back then, I'd never ridden 200km, let alone off road. To say it was a little daunting would be a  complete understatement. Cue an entire winter of hard turbo training and a good couple of months getting used to my new Fairlight secan- off road in some pretty brutal conditions. 

This time I just entered and pretty much kind of hoped that residual fitness and bloody mindedness would propel me around. 

What I hadn't quite put into the calculation was an all out running timetrial/ race on the Thursday before the event which acted a quite a nice "leg softener" for the main event. 

Heading up to Kielder on the Friday afternoon, the most accurate weather forecase was that of some rain- maybe not too much... but then again, maybe quite a bit. There was certainly a fair amount of interpretation to be done in terms of clothing choices. It was certain that I was going to be camping out- whether it was in a tent or in a van was yet to be seen. Somewhat naiively I assumed that the carparks - in which you can normally park for £10 a night would be open and ready for business- that's what the blurb seemed to say. On arrival, this was not really the case, and the main carpark where I had intended to camp up on, was closed (and empty). Minor issue. 

However, there was the overflow camping- essentially a field, about 300m away from the main event centre, for £15 for the whole weekend. Well ok then- down I trotted and pitched up on a field with a mass of other campervans and tents. All fine. The "gravel expo" was at the event centre where registration was, so I wandered around and looked at bits and bobs. This year, it seems, the whole thing was sponsored by the dealer Madison, so it was pretty much all their gear that was on display there- Lazer, Genesis, Look, etc etc. Last time I was here it was a Salsa dominated event, but there wasn't a peep of them this year. Full gravel expo? Maybe not- but a marketing opportunity for someone sponsoring the event- yes. 

Home sweet home

I'd been having a minor issue with my chain sprockets on my wheels, and there was a Shimano service centre there. As far as I could tell, it needed a half width spacer just to take up some of the slack- never been able to actually get hold of one though. So I took it along to the guys- who seemed to be running some kind of double act. Effectively I didn't need to be told what *else* was wrong with the bike- just fix the bit I'm pointing at please. Happily, all it needed was a half width spacer - which was applied, and then there were comments like "I dunno what you're doing running brakes outside gears, and what's with the non-standard jockey wheels... has this crank never fallen off? There's normally a sticker here telling you what to tighten it up to.... peel it off did you?" To which the retort was "I ride my bloody bike, I don't hang it on a wall". Anyhow, we all got away from the interaction unscathed, and my cassette no longer rattles....

After a decent meal (noodles and bits of chicken) I turned in, realising that a 6am alarm call would be necessary for a 745 start time. What with the clouds of midges, I was perfectly happy to be snuggled away in the tent. 

Saturday morning dawned with a small amount of rain, a queue for the toilets and breakfast- parts1, 2 and 3. Had a sneaky chat with one of the guys on the stands who had stayed somewhere with mobile signal for the latest forecast- which was 16-18 all day, low chance of rain. Brilliant. So the lightest weight waterproof I had, and a gilet for most of the day. Perfect. 

Out and up to the start for 735, loaded the route onto the wahoo, and it was pretty much, right, off you go!

Midge fest

The timing chips started about 2 miles in as we came off the road and onto the dirt, and I tried very hard not to go too fast. Of course when there are hundred of people around you, you tend to get a bit caught up in things, and fairly often, without realising it, my heart rate was climbing to beyond acceptable levels. The first few miles always seems to bring on an inordinate number of punctures, and I was very careful not to snigger at those unfortunately enough to be stricken on the side of the trail, desperately trying to fix a tyre as hundreds of riders passed them by, and thousands of midges attacked them. 

The first 30km was fairly uneventful, apart from a realisation that my legs were really quite tired. This was looking to be quite a long day out, especially considering that we were barely more than an eighth of the way in. Nevermind, I had PLENTY of food, so as long as I took my time, it was all (probably) going to be ok. 

Round and out to the first feedpoint about 50km in and my water had barely been touched, there was no real reason to stop, so I just pootled on through and out up the next hill. The crowds of people were thinning out a bit now, so travelling at my own speed was much easier, rather than battering along at a pace prescribed by someone else. There were some spectacular views out over the general area at this point, so I stopped for a photo before carrying on. 

The open road

The gravel was, for the most part, fairly benign under tyre. The Fairlight was shod with 650b- 2.2in gravelking sk - which were almost overkill for the vast majority of the day. In the previous edition I had 700x42 WTB resolutes, and equally, they were more than a match for the terrain. There were a few dodgy bits where I realised I was travelling downhill- but also surfing from side to side a fair amount, which was a tad alarming- and there were a few times where my prefered line around the corner was sacrificed for something a lot more tame and less likely to end in gravel-rash, but that might have been just me being a wimp, and prefering to have skin. 

Once 65km was passed (the first loop back around to the castle), a road was crossed and there was another 30km to go before the next feedstation- this section included the steepest part of the course, which was a timetrial stage, over which the fastest person would win a pair of Lauf forks. Very nice. Now don't get me wrong, none of this course is crazy steep. There are much MUCH tougher climbs around here in the Peak district, but by this stage, I was not in much of a state to do anything above just get up the next hill. Let's say that I certainly wasn't going eyeballs out for the special stage. I didn't even mind when the dude on the single speed mountain bike came buzzing past me. Whatever.

Rolling around into the Lake shore I started chatting with a guy from Ripon who is a keen caver, and we stuck together for the next few miles to the checkpoint. There was a minor kerfuffle where it was apparent there was a mass dog-walk on the same stretch of path as the Reiver, so there was about a km of excitement as we slowed down and made our way through vast amounts of K-9 related ambulation as politely as we possibly could. 

Checkpoint 2 is at 95km or so, just before the decision point for 130km or 200km. Up to this point I had almost been in 2 minds about going with the 130, rather than overstretching myself on the 200. However, right now, it was a beautiful day, and at 95k, there would only have been another 35k left... barely enough to call it a full day out. 200 it is then. Grabbing a coke, filling a waterbottle and saying hi to Rich Seipp who was manning the feed station I turned around and headed back out for the next 105k.

Checkpoint 2- Gimme some coke

From here, the next feed station is at 147km, so you have a fair amount of distance to go before then- but afterward, there is only about 53km to go to get home. This is where you end up in some fairly remote countryside, which can be made more challenging with head and side winds. The key here is to just try and stay on top of eating and drinking, and keep churning away at the pedals. It isn't bad through this bit- it's really quite fun because you know that there are only 200ers on this bit of the course. By now the same faces are passing you and getting passed by you as we each have a good or bad time, so cheery hello's are still kind of the order of the day. The headwind eventually became a tailwind, which was nice- until you realised the tailwind was coming from the West.... the return leg from the next checkpoint was going to be purgatory. 

Buzzing down into Stoneyhaugh for the feedstation/checkpoint and I was starting to feel quite significantly fatigued. A quick stop off for water, a fig roll and a quick walk around to take the pressure off my bum, and I was ready to go again, fully looking forward to 55km of headwind. I'd rearranged the food in my bag to make sure the Tangfastics were easily accessible... I had a feeling they might be needed. 

Checkpoint 3. Ready for some headwind

Headwinds on their own are kind of ok. Gravel on it's own is kind of ok. Uphill on it's own is kind of ok. All of them together? After 150km... its a recipe for chain eating Haribo and drinking a LOT of water. By this time I was almost at the stage of counting down kilometres- but was fully aware that at the speed I was going, that was going to be fairly dispiriting. Instead I simply resolved to only have a look at how far we had to go once we got to the dam back at Kielder Water. Which looked like being quite a long way away. Anyhow- the vast majority of this section I seem to recall, basically involved grovelling along at my own speed watching other people power off up hills at a speed I could only dream of as I shoveled haribo after haribo down my throat. 

Character forming. 

Eventually we got to the Dam- I have no idea how far we had left at that point... 25km? 30? No clue... but I saw an Osprey overhead, which was a pretty good spot. 

The final hill was taken with a profusion of swearwords, and the final 20k seemed to take forever, with my bum becoming more and more painful by the pedalstroke, but eventually, 9hours and 45 mins after starting I pulled into the Castle grounds and nigh on collapsed. Vegan curry and pitta and low-alcohol Erdinger was served up, before I went off and found the "luxury showers"- which were, I have to say, the best and most luxurious showers ever. Whoever's idea it was to have those showers at the end of this event is a Genius. Pure and simple. 

Then I crashed for a couple of hours and slept, before going for a burger and chips at sundown, and watched the most incredible amount of stars appear as night overtook. Kielder is of course a Dark Skies area, and by crikey, there are a LOT of star that you can see from there. 

Up early and a drive home, and here we are. The bike is clean, the clothes are in the wash and I can sit down without wincing. Bonus. What a great weekend.