Largo Law Hill Race 11/08/07
Over the bridge and into a murky afternoon...Dropped by Fife AC then lovingly restored by Anster Haddies this race turned out to be a great off roader over muddy single track and through burns with a hill about the size of Arthur's Seat at the midpoint. Tony and I were the sole PRC representatives. In fact before Tony came over from the dark side (Fife AC) he used to organise this race. However he was first to say how much improved it was, since they now miss the road section at beginning and end from the Crusoe hotel up towards the hill. This meant no dangerous road crossings and you don't lose 2mm of tread off your hill shoes. Instead we started above the road crossing heading up the road then off left onto a cinder path and into the wilds.
As Mary was working I had to make my own way there. Tony was doing a tour of Fife with his wife and sister, so I jumped on my bike and cycled to Waverley where I caught a train to Markinch. By the time I got off the train there was a steady drizzle and I changed into waterproofs; getting a good soaking over the 10 miles to Leven and Lower Largo. Along the way I saw the Law in the distance and stopped to take a damp photo.
The hills we would later run upAt the hotel (named after the famous island dweller, whose prototype Alexander Selkirk was born in Lower Largo,) I bumped into Tony who was very chipper as always, despite the gloomy weather. Although raining it was quite warm. We changed and jogged up to the start. Tony seemed to anticipate great things from myself and shouted out my name just before the off. I was excited about running but didn't share Tony's confidence as the front pack was full of Fife vests and they have a very strong club especially in the vet category.
After an amusing speech by the starter/organiser, (“some of you will have done this race before - well its no'hin' like that...”) we were off and up the hundred yards of steep tarmac before a left turn through a kissing gate. I felt comfortable on the up hill and should have barged through to the front as there was quickly a bottleneck at the gate and folk further behind vaulted the gate getting ahead. I dropped half a dozen places to maybe 17th but managed to get a few back on the cinder path that quickly turned into muddy single track after a splosh through a wide but shallow burn.
The route snaked through the trees and bracken, firm and fast for the most but with a leaning camber and puddles of mud at regular intervals. Difficult to pass at this point and I stayed in place until we left Keil's Den and crossed the road to go past the caravan park. Another road crossing and we turned in past the cemetery and wider grassy paths with lots of kissing gates - I lost count - where you had the chance to check out the opposition on your tail. Around this point someone must have disturbed a wasp's nest as nearly everyone got stung - if you were unlucky you picked up some on the out, and more on the back. I was blissfully unaware until the end and heard folk discussing how many times they were stung. Next some farmland through to the beginning of the hill which was already filthy with mud. Initially gorse determined the thin line of ascent and as I marched up, hands on knees, I had serious worries about navigating the descent past the back of the field. As we approached the first summit some headed right into the rough. I tried to weigh up the choice and thought the second (and final) summit must be off to the right - it was - and so followed the diagonal option - harder going but shorter. It proved pretty much the same and I felt strong at the turn around the trig point. Low cloud spoilt any view, though eyes were glued to the ground for the hair-raising descent down the very steep and very slithery return journey. Towards the bottom of the hill things got frantic as fast descenders vied for the same muddy ground as slow ascenders. The Carnethy guy 2 places ahead stopped to assist an elderly gent who was lying on his side in the mud trying to swim past a particularly steep and muddy section. The orange top in front leant a hand and got him to dry land before the three of us set off through the last gorse opening. Orange Vest was trying to apply the brakes as I went past at full tilt unable to control the speed. The route now returned across the ground we had come up and shortly I overtook the Carnethy vest and perhaps one or 2 more. Orange Vest stuck with me and I could hear his footfalls just a second or two behind as we crossed the stream at either end of Keil's Den. A foot wrong at this point and you would have been off down the slope to the river. I had seen a Fife vest a bit ahead and although we caught up to within 20 yards he managed to keep that distance along the cinder path and increased his lead on the fast downhill tarmac of the last 100 yards. I managed to stay ahead of Orange Vest (Richie Cunningham), happy days. A terrific off road course of around 7 miles. I wore Inov-8s which worked fine but given the mud would have preferred Walshes.
I waited on Tony who expressed much praise for the new route and we jogged back to the hotel. I scraped some of the mud off my legs and changed into back into damp cycling clothes. I couldn't face putting on wet socks. To my delight there was free beer at the bar for runners and fairly promptly the prizes were announced. I later emailed Tony who had headed off by then to say that I was lucky to win 2nd vet (wine, beer and 4 Mars Bars!) He replied “what has luck got to do with winning prizes?” Now while I can see what he means, when you enter a race in the heartland of Fife AC you need a little luck to come away with anything.
Buoyed up by prizes and free beers I jumped on my (now fully laden) bike and cycled off wobbly up the hill. I had decided to cycle as far as possible as the race had only been 7 miles and I wanted to extend the day's workout. I headed off to Kirkcaldy planning to stay in touch with the rail line after that until my legs insisted I use the return half of my ticket. The weather was drier than before but nothing you could call summery. After about 40 minutes I put on my wet socks which felt warmer in seconds. Around Kirkcaldy I found myself on bigger and bigger roads until I wasn't sure if I'd got onto a motorway for a heady mile or two. I was doing 16mph being overtaken by juggernauts doing 75. Next exit I was off and decided to check out the Fife Coastal Path - mmm that sounds scenic - as an antidote. Out the frying pan... The route started with a lift over a fence on the industrial wasteland outskirts of Kirkcaldy and continued over a damp muddy dirt-track above the coast (beach is too pretty a word). Undulating too much for slicks I had to get off and push every 5 mins and I was down to 3mph. I went past a tent surrounded by rubbish and grocery packaging looking ominously like the scene of a massacre (but I suspected a private T in the Park,) and hurried onwards. A puncture here would have marked the end of the fun. Cycling carefully round every shard of glass and wire I was eventually vomited out into a playground at the finish of the Black Rock Five course. More comfortable about this familiar ground I followed the course route then headed off right up Alexander the Third Street which eventually lead up to the coastal road. Round the corner and the first sight of the bridges. It had taken quite a lot of willpower to cycle past the rail station at Kinghorn and as I passed each subsequent one it was more and more difficult. Aberdour was helped by the frisson of passing the 30mph speed limit sign on the outskirts at above that rate. At some point I stopped for a scooby snack and took a picture of Arthur's Seat a couple of miles across the water; but in reality over 25 road miles away. I had long run out of water in my sports bottle and was tempted to swap it for a can of prize lager but could hear the commentator on one of those cctv progs saying, “here's a clown who is dressed in shorts, in the dark, cycling down the motorway slip road drinking from a can of lager.....”
so near yet so farJust before and after the bridge was no picnic with all those coned-off single lanes really focussing the mind in terms of cycling in a very straight, very steady line. And I'd like to say a big “thank you” to the “gentleman” in the Chelsea Tractor who gave me a toot and the evils while nearly mowing me down on a roundabout in Fife, because I had the cheek to be in the correct lane.
About four hours after starting out I got home. The street lights went on a couple of turns from home so Brian Cruickshank (1st o/40) you were right; it did take until dark to get there.
A great race and highly recommended, and although I managed to make the start of Willie's Gang's run the following morning I had to drop off the back early on. It's good to know your limits.
Peter Buchanan 51.14
Tony Stapley 65.36Report and photos pb (Stream crossing photo Anster Haddies.)
Anster Haddies website; results, course map and photos here.
