Borrowdale Fell Race (Lite) 4/08/07
We decided that we were going to “do” The Borrowdale about 3 weeks ago, since we needed the long training and we wanted to see our friends Jim and Jane in the lake district, and Jim was going to be doing it anyway.
There was no opportunity to recce the course and we don't know that part of the world very well. All we could do to help ourselves was run up and down a few hills at my mum's and have a good look at the map.
The Borrowdale Fell Race is (usually) about 17 miles and 6,500ft, incorporating the ascent and descent of Scafell Pike and Great Gable amongst other lesser climbs. We've done enough smaller and less daunting hill races to figure we should be able to manage it physically, but the navigation side of things is rather more daunting. When I look at a map I know what all the things mean but that doesn't add up to swift navigation in difficult conditions. Still, you have to give things a go...
The slate mine at HonisterWe arrived down in Cumbria on Thursday night and on Friday went for a recce from Honister Hause up towards Great Gable. As it turned out the weather was so severe that we didn't bother going all the way up as we could only see a few metres in front of us. The wind was blowing and the rain was drumming into us and you had to shout to be heard. We came back down cold and wet and not much the wiser and I started to take the “nav” bit quite seriously.
Green Gable and Great Gable when visibleThroughout the evening Jane and different members of the Davies family tried to brief us on aspects of the route, what to look out for...as they did the wind rose outside and the rain battered the outside of the house. I don't know at what point I started to think “I'm not going to do this” but by the time I went to bed I felt fairly sure that I wasn't even going to try and was vaguely thinking about where I could get a run in the next day and then maybe go and get things to cook Jim and Jane dinner. We decided to decide in the morning (the joys of entry on the day) and went to sleep.
After a long night of dreaming that I was in Russia, I awoke to Peter announcing that it looked sunny outside and the wind had dropped and we should go for it after all. I looked out the window and there was a smudge of yellow sunshine amid the black clouds and thought vaguely that he'd lost his mind but I wasn't going to kick about the house on my own all day so I'd go too.
In the 3 weeks since we'd decided to come down Jane had decided to race too. She's not at full fitness but she knows the way and has done The Borrowdale for the last 4 years. As it turned out she had plenty of residual fitness and I'm glad she ran it.
The final descent down Dale Head seen before the start
In Rosthwaite, where the race starts, the registration tent was already quite busy. £4 bought you your entry and a free pair of Falke ergonomic socks to try from Rathbones of Keswick. Last minute kit choices had to be made. It had been raining all night and the fields were all water logged. The wind wasn't too bad but then it hadn't been too bad in Rosthwaite the day before either - it may well be a different story 3000 feet up. It was rumoured that someone had asked Andrew “Scoffer” Schofield, who was organising, if waterproof kit would be required. “What do you bloody think?” was his terse reply. Then the mountain rescue got in touch to say they weren't happy with conditions at the top of Scafell Pike. The Borrowdale was to be shortened for the first time in the race history. There was to be a detour from Esk Hause, which normally leads on to Scafell Pike, down towards Sty Head at the foot of Great Gable. As I'd been listening the night before to stories of the frightening screes off Scafell Pike and tales of nearly going off “the wrong way where the climbing is” I was inwardly relieved.
Scafell PIke in good conditions (Highest point in England)
Pretty soon we all (a sea of Helly Hansen tops on thin men and some other slower and squatter competitors) squeezed up a road for the start - and as we didn't know which direction we were setting off in, Peter started right at the back! It was unusual to see him 10 minutes into the race coming past me, looking frustrated. Early on there was a long bottleneck up a narrow stony lane which enforced walking for everyone but the front runners. It was much too long a race to get too excited about this and I just relaxed into it. After about 24 hours tension dreading the race it was a relief just to get into it. A couple of early river crossings stopped me worrying about getting my feet wet.
Peter making up for lost time at the startThen on a long steep climb up Bessy Boot in a snake of panting fell-runners I used all my concentration to ensure I neither kicked any rocks down on anyone below nor got in the way of any falling from above. The top of Bessy Boot ( a friend had told me “oh it takes about 20 minutes”) was reached in about 50mins and then a long contouring round the side of Glaramara was begun. The amount of water just sitting on the ground was funny. I was laughing as I splashed through fields. I was laughing because a couple of days ago I thought it might be necessary to bring a camelbak. Instead I had an empty refillable bottle. There was water aplenty any time I wanted it! Some of the trods were quite vertiginous. Tiny little paths round the side of steep drop offs. “Look where you want to go, not where you don't want to go” I counselled myself, so maybe missed some of the view along the way. In the main it was pretty misty and rainy most of the time anyway. I was towards the back of the field and we were quite spread out. I was careful not to lose contact with the few backs I could see in front of me. Occasionally I stepped in bog up to my thighs giving myself temporary long brown stockings. Rivers roared and tumbled off the slopes above. As we slowly climbed it got mistier and just before Esk Hause, for a little while, I couldn't see any one at all. Then the mist cleared and I saw quite a crowd of people and a blond woman gave me some jelly babies and pointed the way down to the right to Sty Head. I stopped to drink out of the river and have an energy gel and shortly afterwards Jane came out of the mist. “What are you doing away at the back” she called out in her dulcet Glasgow accent. I assured her that we were not at the back, we were in fact winning and hung on to her heels as we were now descending and she is a way better descender than me.
Sty Head from the start of the ascent of Great Gable - we came up this wayI managed to stay in touch so we were climbing Great Gable together. It was nice to have company and I knew I could keep up on the uphill and it was comforting to have someone around who definitely knew the way off.
We made good progress up Great Gable, passing a few people, not pushing the pace, but not letting up either. Coming off Great Gable was quite alarming. It was misty and the visibility was bad. A snake of people were following each other down a sheer slope of what seemed to be small stone ball-bearings. Jane took us right onto some grass for a while that offered a better grip and then back left onto the path.
As we came off Great Gable, as happens in the hills, we inexplicably went wrong and found ourselves looking down into a valley that shouldn't have been there. Some 10 people had followed us as I guess we looked confident about what we were doing. With a bit of thought we figured we should be further left and soon the mist cleared just enough to show us runners on the ridge to the left so we knew that was the right way.
Jane was cursing herself for making a mistake on familiar ground as we repassed a number of people who we had already passed earlier. Soon we were onto the ground we'd tried to recce the day before, and despite my doubts I had retained some of the information gained then. It was reassuring to be on relatively familiar ground. Soon we were dropping below the mist and could see down to the slate mines at Honister.
The slate mine at Honister from Dale Head, the descent from Great Gable behind.
After Honister there is one long climb left - up Dale Head. The ground was springy short turf for a lot of the way which was easy under foot and we made good progress up a succession of false summits to the true summit. Then, turning right and coming off the fell I had to accept defeat as I simply could not keep up with the speed Jane was managing to keep up down the rocky hillside. The route then snaked down a very rocky path, across a very boggy bog, through an old slate quarry, through some very high ferns, and down for ages until at last I ran past the place where the car was parked, saw Peter at the end of a road, turned right and into the field where we'd registered and to the finish.
Although the course was shortened the Garmin still says it was 15.34 miles and I was grateful to stop after exactly 4 ½ hours.
There followed a pleasant milling around Rosthwaite, cheese sandwiches and mugs of tea, a nice wash in the river and two pints of Scafell Blonde beer before being chauffered home to J and J's house for dinner, wine and beer and post-race analysis.
Sheer luxury - a nice leg wash in the riverThe party that ensued at Rosthwaite for those who chose to stay and camp reportedly was the liveliest its been in years with much dancing into the night in the big tent in which we registered.
Jim was 7th and first vet and was most gracious about having to wait about having only taken 2hrs 26 minutes to finish. His brother Phil came in about a minute and a half before him taking 5th place. Our friend Liz was 3rd lady and 1st lady vet. They took away an impressive stack of prizes, including nice goretex paclite jackets. Peter was a bit put out by getting stuck right at the back at the beginning and what he felt was the unreasonable wetness of everything. He finished in a perfectly respectable 3hrs33mins (but behind quite a lot of women and old blokes). Jane made up 5 mins in the drop from Dale Head to the finish. Good on her I say. But I'm going to work on my downhilling...Report by Mary Hunter
Photos; PB
www.borrowdalefellrunners.co.uk
Photos of the fells in good weather borrowed from the websites below (with thanks);
Ann Bowker's website http://www.madaboutmountains.com/
www.bassplace.freeserve.co.uk/wildcamp/bigpix/
