#65 – A warm, sunny day on Cadair Idris – in February?!

Penygadair, the summit of Cadair Idris

My mum would have said, “it’s neither one thing nor the other”, in the way that mums do.  Now, I like my winters cold and with loads of snow, and last week held the promise of real winter conditions at last, but then what happens?  It gets warm again, that’s what!  As I said, neither one thing nor the other.

The Visitor Centre near the Minffordd car park

If we can’t have a proper winter I’d rather have it warm, which isn’t as unlikely as it might seem. In February 2008, Chris and I had a day on Cadair Idris that was as sunny and warm as mid-summer.  The visitor centre at Minffordd had opened for business, but we didn’t linger – February days can be warm, but they are always short.

“….the path emerges from the wood….”

The path from Minffordd starts by weaving up a wooded hillside with interesting stream cascades over to the right.  As the path emerges from the wood, the southern flank of Penygadair suddenly comes into view.  The path then curves round to enter the delightful hollow containing the small lake of Llyn Cau.  From there, a steady pull up the hillside leads to the top of crags enclosing the lake below.

Approaching Llyn Cau

Craig Cau with Llyn Cau below

As the view unfolds, the Welsh names suddenly start to make sense, especially if you know a few words of the language.   Cadair Idris means ‘Idris’s Chair’, though from a distance it’s more like a throne for a king.  Penygadair means ‘The Head of the Chair’ (‘c’ sometimes mutates to ‘g’ in welsh), Llyn means lake, Cau means enclosed or shut and Craig means rock or crag, so Llyn Cau is ‘Enclosed Lake’, and the surrounding crags (Craig Cau) take their name from the hollow below.

Steep gully looking down to Llyn Cau

Llyn Cau from Craig Cau

The summit of Penygadair from the top of Craig Cau

We followed the steep cliffs above the lake, circling round the hollow before heading upwards to the summit of Penygadair, with great views west towards the sea near Barmouth (or Abermaw in Welsh).  Then, suddenly, we were at the top.  The summit has the usual triangulation column, made redundant in an age of aerial surveys, but there is also a surprise in store.

Looking west towards the sea

The surprise in this case is the small stone shelter at the summit.  What is even more surprising is that it’s clean inside, with no litter or sheep muck – a board placed across the door opening keeps the sheep at bay and a brush encourages visitors to maintain cleanliness.  The hut would make an ideal bothy for anyone wishing to spend a night on the mountain.

Looking down to the summit shelter at Penygadair

Another view of the hut

It should be stated, though, that an overnight stay is not without risk – an old legend says that anyone spending a night in the hut will wake the next day either as a poet or a madman!  We decided not to take any chances regarding the latter and after a brief stop we set off for Mynydd Moel (the ‘Bald Mountain’), followed by one of the roughest descents we had followed in a long time – a small price to pay for what had been a summers day in February.

Mynydd Moel from Penygadair

Text and images © Paul Shorrock

#64 – Higger Tor and Burbage Rocks – a peek at The Peak District

An icy day in the Peak District - The 'Duke's Drive' near Burbage Bridge

Winter had definitely arrived, and looked as though it might hang around for a while.  This usually means ice-axe and crampons, and perhaps a look at something steep and icy.  Chris, however, doesn’t do ‘steep’ or ‘icy’,  and although ‘Mist’ has 4X4 traction with fitted ice grips (or claws if you prefer) I didn’t think she would be up for anything serious.  That wasn’t to be a problem, as a bit of snow on the ground transforms the most mundane walk into something interesting.

Carl Wark with Higger Tor beyond

That’s not to say the circuit of Higger Tor and Burbage Rocks is a mundane walk.  The route starts from the National Trust car park near Longshaw Lodge and initially follows the ‘Duke’s Drive’, a way taken by a former Duke of Rutland to reach the grouse moors at Burbage.  From there we were going to head for the intriguing monument of Carl Wark, followed by the summit of Higger Tor, before heading back down the Duke’s Drive.

The Duke’s Drive – well frozen!

One thing was quite clear – the Duke hadn’t gritted the path!  Fresh snow over the preceding weekend had been trampled by a good number of feet – the snowpack had then thawed and re-frozen a couple of times so that the surface of the track was now like an ice rink.  Fortunately we had come prepared.

Grivel Spiders

Kahtoola Mini-spikes

Chris has been using Grivel Spiders for a couple of years now – they are a simple but effective development of the old idea of instep crampons, with ten small points that bite into ice and hard snow.  Our usual method is for Chris to wear her Spiders, and for me to slither about on icy paths because my 12-point mountaineering crampons are in the car.  Today was different – competitors and staff on “The Spine” race had all been given a set of Kahtoola Mini-spikes for the event, and they were about to go into action for the first time.

The 18th Century bridge just below Carl Wark

We stopped for food and a coffee by the 18^th Century stone bridge below Carl Wark before hitting the first slope.  I did the decent thing, and let Chris use the Kahtoolas – the Spiders were a better option than nothing for me, and ‘Mist’ seemed happy to get along with what nature had provided.

The final section to the top of Carl Wark

Higger Tor from Carl Wark

Although it only rises to just above 370 metres, Carl Wark dominates the approach from Burbage Bridge to the south.  Once thought to be an Iron Age fort, it has now been suggested that there may be older links to the Bronze Age or earlier.  The existing natural cliffs and boulders have been reinforced by gritstone blocks, making a wall over two metres high, and although it was probably not permanently occupied, it would have provided a stronghold in time of danger.  The unusual name may be Old Norse, meaning The Old Man’s Fort, the Old Man in this case being the Devil!  Carl Wark must have looked ancient and mysterious even to the Danes.

Chris on the rocks below Higger Tor

Chris and ‘Mist’ at the summit

From Carl Wark it was a short stroll over to Higger Tor – at a mere 434 metres it proved once again that you don’t always have to go high to have a good day out.  The light for photography was disappointing for the second week running, but you can’t have everything.

Climbers at Burbage Rocks

Steep rock climbing problem!

More slithering about on the Duke’s Drive below Burbage Rocks

We carried on to Upper Burbage Bridge before returning down the Duke’s Drive.  Burbage Rocks have their own history, at least as far as rock climbers are concerned – the rocks have been an important climbing area from the earliest days of the sport, and even in the cold conditions we encountered, a couple of groups of climbers were in action.

Carl Wark (left) and Higger Tor, seen from the return route

We slithered on, back down the Duke’s Drive to the car park – although the Grivel Spiders have previously given good service, the Kahtoolas were a total success and I’ve already put in an order for a second set.  The other bit of ‘kit’ I’ve started carrying recently is a Jetboil stove – it’s amazingly fast, and weighs about the same as a flask.  Hot chocolate at the end of the walk never tasted better!

Back at the car park - more kit!

Text and images © Paul Shorrock

#63 – Rishworth Moor from Ryburn

'Blackwood Edge Road' heading towards Rishworth Moor

After the ‘buzz’ and drama of “The Spine” it was time to head back to business as usual.

This walk could have been a big mistake.  A look at the map for Rishworth Moor shows several ‘drains’ that feed the reservoirs on this high section of Pennine moorland.  Drains? Reservoirs?   That all sounds like a bit of a watery theme then!  Well, not on this walk it wasn’t.  We had left Shipley on a normal, grey January day, but as we gained height on the drive over, we realised that there was a snow line, and though our objective for the day was modest enough, it was sure to be up in the white stuff.

Ryburn Reservoir (in less than ideal light conditions for photos)

Pennine walking is a bit of an acquired taste, usually involving boggy and peaty uplands separated by deep valleys.  Today’s route didn’t really have any severe ups and downs, and the cold meant better going on frozen mud rather than liquid mud.  We set off from Ryburn Reservoir with good conditions underfoot but terrible light for pics.  Passing the impressive house of Upper Cockcroft Farm we took the track to Pike End to hit Blackwood Edge Road.

Upper Cockcroft Farm - modest country retreat (but sadly out of my price range!)

Heading from Pike End to Blackwood Edge Road

Where I come from, a road is usually wide enough for a car and has a hard surface.  Blackwood Edge Road was mostly the width of a horse, and under warmer conditions would have been a mire rather than a path, but the freeze allowed good progress.  However, if it wasn’t really a road, why could I hear heavy traffic?  The answer became obvious as the M62 motorway came into view 1½ kilometres away.

Near Dog Hill, heading down towards Green Withens Reservoir

By the feeder drain to Green Withens

Our gradual height gain levelled out at about 412 metres, our highest point of the day – no problems with the altitude today, then!  The frozen path led us down to one of the drains feeding Green Withens Reservoir, with a view across the reservoir towards Blackstone Edge where we had walked in warmer weather in mid October (blog post #49). A coffee stop was kept short to avoid getting too chilled, then it was off again.

The author and ‘Mist’ ready to go again

Chris near 'Warm Withens Hill' in slightly less than warm conditions

Our route took us in a loop just below the edge of Rishworth Moor, taking in the inappropriately named (in the conditions) Warm Withens Hill.  From there another drainage ditch headed down towards Ryburn Reservoir – after the empty, snow-covered moor it was quite a contrast to be back amongst stone walls and pylons.  From there we took the path through the woods at Ryburn Reservoir, looking more like a Scottish Loch in the winter conditions

Stone walls and pylons

Ryburn Reservoir

Not the most exciting day out, but an interesting one.  I’ve looked at these hills many times from the M62 Motorway, and I’m gradually building up a picture of what’s up there in all that high moorland – a load of snow, apparently!

Rishworth Moor – ‘Mist’ enjoying the snow

#62 – ‘The Spine’ – Britain’s most brutal race! (Part 2)

Mark Caldwell at Greg's Hut

Sometimes the Pennine Way must seem like a bad joke.  One of those times must be the Cumbria section where the route climbs steadily from Teesdale to cross the watershed at High Cup Nick.  From there the route drops 400 metres to Dufton, then climbs 670 metres back up to the watershed at Great Dun Fell – that’s fine if you’ve booked a B&B at Dufton, but not so good if you’re cold, knackered and running ‘The Spine’ race.

Greg's Hut - "a haven of warmth"?

The route from Great Dun Fell over Cross Fell is the highest and potentially the most dangerous part of the Pennine Way and “The Spine” race – the Cross Fell Plateau is big, and a navigation error here can send you spinning off into a wild and empty wilderness!  The only shelter for miles is the mountain bothy, Greg’s Hut.  Normally cold and damp, the bothy became a haven of warmth for the four surviving competitors in ‘The Spine’.

Gary and Steve just in at Greg's Hut

John Bamber and I had been warned to expect Gary Morrison and Steve Thompson after 0300hrs on Wednesday morning.  As we were running out of tall tales, and there wasn’t much on the ‘telly’ we decided to get our heads down for a few hours.  At 0215hrs I woke up, aware that someone was outside (I sleep very lightly, probably a throwback to my days in the Royal Marines).  It was Gary and Steve, earlier than expected.

A brief opportunity to warm up

Whilst John fed them noodles and coffee, I was weighing up their gear, specialist lightweight clothing designed for adventure racing.  As we talked it became apparent that the correct management of several thin layers was vital, not only for success but also for safety.  This was demonstrated quite graphically when they left us.  Gary needed a pee, and in the 30 seconds delay standing about, Steve went beyond cold – he was HURTING!!

Gary and Steve set off into the mist

The ability to keep moving to generate heat was a vital part of their strategy, and any incident that caused them to stop on high, exposed ground could have had serious consequences.  Adventure racing isn’t just about long distances and being tired – the ability to risk assess through constantly changing conditions is also vital.  I was glad for both of them as they finally set off from the hut in thick mist, heading downhill.

Downhill? – I suddenly realised!  The track they should have been on was level, not downhill!  I moved to where their headlamps had disappeared, and was relieved to see them heading back up towards me – at least the exertion would warm them up!  I led them to a couple of markers on the track, and saw them off in the right direction.  Having done that I turned back to the hut,

I couldn’t see the hut!

The mist was so thick that my Petzl Myo RXP headtorch on full beam couldn’t pick it out, even though it was only 50 metres away.  I was dressed for sitting in a bothy, not roaming the hills in sub-zero conditions, so getting back to the hut became fairly important.  I knew the general direction, and a flash of black and white as my Border Collie ‘Mist’ ran between me and the hut confirmed that it was the right way.  I was about five metres from the hut before I saw it.

Mark on a quick turnaround at Greg's Hut, with 'Mist' weighing up the chances of a walk!

Our next visitor was to be Mark Caldwell, due at 1600hrs.  The foul weather of the morning had improved, so I took ‘Mist’ up the track towards Cross Fell – she was ready for a run after almost a day cooped up in Greg’s Hut.  There was no sign of Mark, so I returned to the bothy, followed soon after by Mark at 1635hrs.  His kit was an interesting contrast to Gary and Steve’s, more or less standard mountaineering kit, heavier to carry but offering better protection from the elements.  Mark was very strong, even at this stage – if he had run into a problem he would probably have been able, literally, to weather the storm.  He set off not long after arriving into the dying light of the afternoon.

Mark setting out into the dying light of the afternoon

Last to arrive was Andy Collister, who arrived at 1935hrs.  He gladly polished off two helpings of noodles, and didn’t even complain that John had forgotten to add the flavour sachet to the first one!  The wind had picked up yet again, and it was bitterly cold outside.  I asked Andy what Cross Fell had been like.  He replied, “Rough”, but I briefly saw in his eyes an expression between pain and fear!  He had completed the Cross Fell leg alone, and in conditions almost as bad as those that Gary and Steve had endured, but it had taken a lot out of him – he set off about 1hr 15mins after arriving, still very determined.

Andy warming up at the bothy

The next morning (Thursday) was the end of my involvement in “The Spine” – I had a prior commitment to honour, and there were sufficient staff to monitor the remaining four runners.  A bumpy ride down the track in Phil’s 4X4 proved the old adage that second class riding was far better than first class walking – certainly more fun!

The author, 'Mist' and John leaving Greg's Hut after two nights in residence

John continued with the team to Bellingham, where Andy arrived at “something silly o’clock”.  His feet were in shreds, and his speed had dropped to 1 kph (yes, that’s kilometres not mph!)  The medical team reluctantly pulled him out of the race.  That left three.  Gary and Steve eventually came in first to the finish line, after 152 hours and 2 minutes.  Their experience and personal management had made them a very strong team.  Mark followed soon after with a time of 158 hours and 55 minutes, running on a huge amount of self discipline and determination.

Gary and Steve going strong and heading to the finish

Steve and Gary after 268 miles in 6 days, 8 hours and 2 minutes

Mark almost home

The grit and determination showed by all the competitors, but especially by Gary, Steve, Mark and Andy, will remain in our memories for some time, and will set a high standard for “The Spine 2013”.   To sum up the event, I’ll leave the final word with fellow Mountain Leader, Stuart Westfield –

“The lasting impression of the race will be the team spirit and camaraderie of everyone involved, whether they were runners or staff.  The winner’s escort into Kirk Yetholm, given by the Borders Mountain Rescue Team was another great moment, but for me the greatest satisfaction was walking the final kilometres with Mark Caldwell, knowing that the last man was safely off the hill”.

"...the last man was safely off the hill”.

Text and images © Paul Shorrock and John Bamber

Stuart Westfield is a freelance Mountain Leader, offering guided walking and outdoor skills training.  See his company website at Ranger Expeditions.

p.s.  This account is a snapshot of my involvement in “The Spine”, and so misses out much of the hard work carried out by the other members of the support staff, and the grit, courage and determination of the competitors battling with cold and fatigue.  For more stories about “The Spine” visit the website at http://thespinerace.com/   If you have been inspired to have a go the site will soon be accepting entries for the 2013 race.

#61 – ‘The Spine’ – Britain’s most brutal race! (Part 1)

Running "The Spine" - Kinder Plateau

The Pennine Way is well known amongst outdoor enthusiasts as being the first long-distance trail in the UK.  The idea of a national trail came from walker and journalist Tom Stephenson, who having been inspired by the Appalachian Trail had written an article in 1935 titled “Wanted: A long green trail”.  If the concept was simple the execution was anything but, and it took 30 years of wrangling with landowners over rights-of-way issues before the 268 mile trail was established in 1965.

Day 1 - near Kinder Downfall

As well as being the first official long-distance footpath in Britain, the Pennine Way is probably also the toughest, following the rugged ‘backbone of England’.  The record time to complete the route is 2 days, 17 hours, 20 minutes and 15 seconds, set by runner Mike Hartley in 1989, but most walkers take about 17-18 days to complete the challenge, which is often made more arduous by difficult walking conditions and sometimes appalling weather.

'The loneliness of the long distance runner'

If the weather can be ‘appalling’ in summer, when most sensible walkers tackle the route, it begs the question, “what are the conditions like in winter?” That question was about to be answered at Edale in Derbyshire at nine o’clock on Saturday morning, 14^th January, when 15 athletes set out on “The Spine”, Britain’s most brutal race – the Pennine Way in 6 days in winter conditions!

The competitors ready for the start

The field included several highly-regarded athletes in the arcane world of ultra-marathon running, though one question still being asked as the runners set out was, “can it be done?”  Race organisers Phil Hayday-Brown and Scott Gilmour believed that it could, but had gathered a support team together to look after the welfare of the athletes taking part in one of the most gruelling ultra-marathon events ever conceived.

Leaving the start at Edale

Most experienced staff member by far was polar explorer Conrad Dickinson.  Also along for the trip were doctors Anna, Dan and Becky of Exile Medics, with a band of unsung heroes who set up and ran the checkpoints.  Scott and Mikey were out and about filming the event, and on the route with Conrad were Mountain Leaders Stuart Westfield and myself, with ace outdoor photographers Rob Holden and John Bamber comparing f-stops, exposure times and lens sizes.

Day 1 - night near Saddleworth

One of the problems of running an event like “The Spine” for the first time is that it was all one big unknown.  To remove some of the worry and uncertainty it had been decided to run a safety point on Cross Fell in Cumbria, the highest section of the Pennine Way.  John Bamber had put himself forward as the person to man that, and had promptly invited me along as well!  That was still three days away as the runners set out from the start line.

Cold icy conditions caused problems on Day 1

The first day proved to be punishing in more ways than one.  The day was cold and clear as the competitors set out over the Kinder Plateau, and it was thought that the cold conditions would freeze the ground to allow faster progress – what had not been envisaged was that several paved sections of the route were ice bound, causing real problems for the athletes.

Sharon Gayter near Saddleworth, just before withdrawing from the race

Worst affected was world-class runner and record holder Sharon Gayter – she had fallen badly several times on the Peak District section of the race, and decided to withdraw when she reached Saddleworth, rather than risk further injury.  This was a blow to all involved – if Sharon had been forced to withdraw so early, what chance did the others have?  By the end of Day 1 a total of five athletes had bailed out.

Rob Holden's 'soup kitchen' at Saddleworth - first food for 14 hours for some of the staff

The support staff were also feeling the strain – following a 20-hour Day 1 with no food for 14 hours, John and I set out on Day 2 after 2½ hours sleep.  By now the field was well spread out, making monitoring and photography difficult – a support team meeting in the Pen y Ghent café at Horton-in Ribblesdale sorted out our tactics as the runners made steady progress in sub-zero conditions.

Coming off Pen y Ghent

John Bamber backpacking gear up to Greg's Hut

Tuesday was the day that John and I set off to open up the safety point at Greg’s Hut bothy, situated at 700 metres altitude just below the summit of Cross Fell.  We had our own race to run, with Phil, John and I trying to locate a key to open the gate on the Greg’s Hut track – having failed to do so we had no option but to backpack everything to the hut, ably assisted by porters Phil, Conrad, Stuart and ‘Doctor Dan’.

The 'porters' at the hut - all checking mobile phone signal strength!

'Greg's Hut' bothy, near Cross Fell - at 700 metres one of the highest bothies in the UK

John sets up the kitchen

As news filtered through of harsh conditions and more withdrawals, it became clear that John and I (plus Border Collie ‘Mist’) were going to be here for a while.  We put the kettle on and settled down for a long wait….

John and 'Mist' settling in for a long wait

To be concluded next week…

Text and images © Paul Shorrock and John Bamber

p.s.  This account is a snapshot of my involvement in “The Spine”, and so misses out much of the hard work carried out by the other members of the support staff, and the grit, courage and determination of the competitors battling with cold and fatigue.  For more stories about “The Spine” visit the website at http://thespinerace.com/   If you have been inspired to have a go the site will soon be accepting entries for the 2013 race.

#60 – A special delivery by the coal man!

The 'coalman' on his round

This week’s blog is a bit on the short side.  I’m out for the next few days acting as safety cover on what must be the most gruelling race in the UK – It’s called ‘The Spine’ and the competitors are racing each other north up the Pennine Way.

#59 – “Water, water, everywhere……….”

Thornton Force in spate

The plan had been to go to the Peak District for our next hill day.  However, the ‘breezy’ day with ‘sunny intervals’ turned out to be ‘blowing a hoolie’ and ‘light rain’.  Our last outing to Malham on Boxing Day {26^th December) had seen us blown and buffeted round the hillside.  I for one wasn’t especially keen to repeat the experience, but didn’t have an alternative ready.  It was Chris who saved the day by suggesting the Ingleton Waterfall Walk.