Misadventure Racing - Open5 Cracoe
24hrs after finishing this year's Open5 and I'm still trying to mentally process some of what happened yesterday- hopefully writing it down will help with that! Despite the weather and everything going on around the UK with Storm Ciara, I'm not questioning any of the decision to go, to race, to head out into the teeth of it at all, I guess I'm just trying to get my head round the day as a whole and how it went. A very race-focussed summary would be "respectable distances, travelled a bit slow, didn't score many points", but that summary would completely miss the point of the day and the whole gamut of experiences had during it, so we'll ignore times, distances and points for now and just get on with the writing.
First things first - I was racing in a pair for once, rather than soloing like I usually do. Psychologically that usually makes it a little bit easier, having someone else to share the day with. The wrinkle this time was that it was my teammate Rachel's first adventure race, and with the forecast looking the way it did I was feeling guilty and nervous about dragging her into it. Not, I hasten to add, that I had any doubts whatsoever about her ability - I've biked and boated with her before and think we were both pretty aware of each other's abilities and mentality towards sport - just that, if we had a really bad time of things I was acutely aware that I was responsible for getting us into this mess and I would also feel that I was very much responsible for getting us out of it.
With the race being up in the Dales it was less than an hour's drive from home, so early start, coffee and pancakes for breakfast, and Rachel and Col Henderson came round to mine so we could car share up to the venue. We loaded up about 7:15am and set off for the Dales. There was a lot of standing water on the roads, and it was still raining and windy, so most of the chat in the car was spinning yarns about other races or going "Why are we doing this again?!" - the type of chat that is always couched jokingly but has that edge to it of "No, genuinely: Why are we doing this?". I've never managed to get to the bottom of that one, even just for why I do these things.
We got to Cracoe village hall and parked up, registered, picked up our maps, grabbed a brew and sat down to try and get a plan together. Sitting in on one of James T's newcomer briefings was good, Rachel listened in to the maestro himself while I scribbled things on the map, highlighting the possible bike routes and crossing out things I knew to avoid. Parts of the bike area intersected with stuff we'd ridden on the Grassington race back in April 2018, so I remembered what some of the trails were like back then when it was drier (and the bit I made a massive nav cock-up on, ho-hum...). There'd been a couple of tweaks and a change to the format in the run-up to the event, with the run start actually being over at Malham, making it bike-run-bike rather than just two stages. One of James's tips for newcomers was to head pretty directly to the run transition, then pick up bike points on the way back. "It's about 20mins direct by road" was a phrase that had popped up in a pre-event email, in some eerily rubbish foreshadowing, but I'll come back to that...
We faffed. Well, I'll rephrase that, I faffed. It took me ages to get my shit together, so we ended up being some of the last to start at about 9:50am. We dibbed out, got the description sheets and sat down to fine-tune our plan, though with only one dummy CP (which we hadn't planned to go to anyway) it didn't take much fine tuning. We set off to do what James had suggested, that 20min leg direct to Malham for the run...
Bike #1: 16.32km / 239m ascent / 1:47:53
https://connect.garmin.com/modern/activity/4532586400
Within a mile of the start we hit the first bit of flooding, just coming into Hetton, so we rode through what we could and waded what we couldn't. All of the local becks were out of their banks, and the roads were getting inundated as the field drains couldn't cope. Things were pretty grim, the wind was high and the odd squally shower lashed down, and it was all a bit uncomfortable, but we were out and moving and not too cold, so we pushed on as best we could.
Descending relatively rapidly to Winterburn we turned right and crossed what I presume was a bridge, where some people were sat on a farm quad bike, and they shouted something I didn't quite hear as I turned past them to drop into the next flooded section. This bit was bad, the beck wasn't just out of its channel, it was most way across the next few hundred metres of field. We pedalled on as far as we could, then a little slip made me unclip and step off the bike to push. As I put my foot down I realised just how fast the water was flowing down the road. It wasn't too deep - shin to knee-ish - but we could have easily kayaked down it without putting in a paddle stroke. Rach stepped off her bike as well, looking as concerned as I was. There's a moment of slightly panicky confusion from both of us, and the next thing I know I've taken a spill, the two bikes are tangled together and floating downstream, and my right ankle is trapped in the frame triangle of one of them, so I'm being gently dragged along a country road on my backside by a pair of floating MTBs. Not really what I'd call a highlight of the day!
I relaxed and went with it for a while: while inconvenient, there was no immediate danger, the water wasn't deep enough for my head to go under and I was sitting upright. As the gradient eased and the flow subsided a bit I managed to dislodge myself from the bikes, pick myself up, and get back on my feet, while the two errant steeds drifted along a bit further. Rachel caught us up, and we waded along toward where the bikes had finally come to rest. Picking them up, Rachel's bars had twisted to one side and one end had been ground down a bit by the submerged tarmac, but there seemed to be little other damage aside from having ground the backside of my waterproof trousers, so we waded out of the flood and found a slightly sheltered place to do running repairs and sanity checks (none found: situation normal). Bars realigned, a quick breather, some food, and a mental note to myself to try not to do that again and we were off, climbing sharply, looking at the map and hoping the Aire wasn't misbehaving around the bridge between Calton and Airton - if it had been we would effectively have been trapped if we stayed low, and the winds weren't making going up higher that appealing an option. Fortunately, the bridge was well clear, and we trotted along nicely towards Kirby Malham, nipping up for an out-and-back to our first CP above 'Windy Pike' - funnily enough it was windy there - and onwards to the run transition at Malham itself, over an hour and three quarters after we set off. So much for 20 flipping minutes...
Seeing Jim R at transition was amusing. There was questioning snort as I showed him the patches missing around my derriere, so I told him the story - now being at the point of finding it vaguely funny rather than slightly scary. We dropped our bikes and swapped kit over, having both ridden with our running vest-packs (containing all the mandatory kit) in larger bags along with a few spares and extras. As we made to leave the field I realised I still had my bike helmet on. And then a second later, that I still had my bike shoes on as well - evidently not quite with it.
Run: 4.79km / 143m ascent / 0:49:49
https://connect.garmin.com/modern/activity/4531448513
A quick swap into my X-Talons and we trotted out of transition and up the road towards Malham Cove, with one (moved) CP in the village which we managed to run right past and then come back for. Headed to the Cove itself and seeing John Bamber marshalling/taking pictures and Col coming back the other way from the Cove CP itself, he seemed to be moving well and looked happy. We headed up to the checkpouint, with it being strapped to the root of a tree right next to the Cove wall and only a few inches out of the rushing water, aren't we glad SportIdent boxes are waterproof! The next CP on our vague plan, CP26, would have meant crossing Malham Beck, and Malham Beck was in full spate. Whether a consequence of the earlier spill, over-cautiousness brought on by being a kayaker, or whatever, but we deliberated briefly then canned it. The old stone footbridge was fully submerged, nowhere to be seen, and everyone we saw cross at any point went at least chest deep. The CP was a high scoring one, but it just wasn't worth it for us, so we switched routes and switched our route round to climb up to CP21 and then headed back to the transition. We discussed options on the way, and knowing how hard the conditions had been getting to Malham, we opted to keep the run short and make the most of the time getting back to base. Food at transition, a quick chat, then back onto the bikes and up!
Bike #2: 19.39km / 337m ascent / 2:09:38
https://connect.garmin.com/modern/activity/4532586426
We climbed steeply from Malham up Malham Rakes, headed towards the tarn and the top of Mastiles Lane, with one CP on the way up the climb, one up on the Roman earthworks near Street Gate, and a few options to either zig-zag if we were so inclined, or head fairly straight if we felt we needed to. The wind had dropped a fair amount, the showers had all but stopped, and there was even a hint of blue sky, so it was much improved from when we'd exited the hall three hours previous. Climbing up the tarmac was a drag, but part way up we realised we'd have a tailwind for a good chunk of the lap home, giving a mental boost as well as a bit of assist. Turning on to Mastiles we dropped down to Gordale Beck and the ford there. We'd seen a pair ahead of us cross, but there was a lot of water coming down, so we stopped, looked, looked some more, and I started walking towards the water to test it out. "Erm, Carrick? Can we try a bit further upstream?" came the voice of reason from Rachel. Directly below the ford there was a hanging gate/barrier as a boundary. Again, maybe the over-cautious side of being kayakers, but with the volume of water that gate was forming a really unpleasant looking strainer. If either of us had slipped in the ford, it could have been pretty unpleasant, so we hiked upstream 30 yards or so to give ourselves some leeway, crossed at a slightly wider patch where the flow was less strong, then hiked back down the wall at the far side to the gate. We shouted back to a pair that arrived behind us that we'd seen others cross there but had opted to go upstream ourselves, and let them get on with it. They came past us a few minutes later, they'd crossed fine but agreed that it was hard work.
Up at the Roman Camp, we met a Roman! Not really, we met Eddie and his teammate, dibbed in at the CP, and of course Eddie starts rummaging in his pack for a camera. Since the showers had subsided and the sun had come out a bit it was actually quite pleasant for once, so we chatted and did the 'I'll take one of you two if you can take one of us' before they headed off and we trundled onward as well. The grassy trail was hard going, slippery and lightly rutted, so going wasn't as quick as it could have been. We both agreed that the tailwind was lovely, except for when a side gust hit Rachel and launched her off her bike - if there'd been a headwind, especially with the sodden ground, I think we'd have been going backwards in tears.
We canned the zig-zag options and turned right at CP3 to head onto tarmac down to Threshfield, pick up 3 more CPs and leave CP13 as an option. It was nice to be going downhill, fairly fast, and to be out of the wind a bit, but we were going to be running tight on time. We picked up CP14, headed along the more major road and over the slippy, leafy lane to CP10, then made for the road back home - through, of course, one more section of flooding. The wind, of course, had decided it had been far too nice to us across the tops and was now blowing in our faces, just when we needed it least. We were pushing hard along the road, gritting our teeth, when all of a sudden there's a shout from behind me - a momentary chainsuck and Rachel's chain is jammed up on the stay. Quick maintenance, un-jam the chain, jump back on and we go as hard as our legs will manage, up into Cracoe village and along to the hall, dibbing in to the finish utterly, utterly done.
We were a touch over time - 5:07:06 - so 16 penalty points, but I really couldn't care less. We finished, we had a good day, we're both still smiling, and it's been a hell of an adventure. Rachel gets collared by Rob from SleepMonsters - since he knows I'm racing with a newcomer and wants to "see what lies he's told you..." Jumpy and Rob both take photos of the worn-out back of my waterproofs (I'd kept them on, they were useful for windproofing from the front anyway!), we find Col with the car keys, get changed, get soup and cake and coffee from Joe, Hilary and Lindsey in the kitchen, and clap for the prize winners. Rosemary comes offering slices of her 20,000 career points cake - Rachel was slightly in awe, since we scored something like 180 before penalties - and we pack up and get ready to head home. Again, there's a mix of yarn spinning and "My god, look at that!" as we drive back looking at the flooding, the Wharfe up to the roadway on the metal bridge at Ben Rhydding, a stop pretty soon after that we assume is more flooding on the low section just before the Menston roundabout, so we turn round and go up and over the Cow & Calf and the back of the Chevin. Home, unload, say goodbye; dinner, bath, bed.
All in all, a cracking but pushy day for us and everyone else. Some of the worst conditions I've raced in for a very long time, but made better by good company, so massive thanks to Rachel for not calling me an idiot and bailing on me. A baptism of fire (or water, whichever you prefer) for her, but hopefully I haven't put anyone off trying Adventure Racing! As usual, also a massive thank you to James and all of the volunteers and team at Open Adventure for putting on the event - challenging day for the staff as much as the participants, so huge thanks.
First things first - I was racing in a pair for once, rather than soloing like I usually do. Psychologically that usually makes it a little bit easier, having someone else to share the day with. The wrinkle this time was that it was my teammate Rachel's first adventure race, and with the forecast looking the way it did I was feeling guilty and nervous about dragging her into it. Not, I hasten to add, that I had any doubts whatsoever about her ability - I've biked and boated with her before and think we were both pretty aware of each other's abilities and mentality towards sport - just that, if we had a really bad time of things I was acutely aware that I was responsible for getting us into this mess and I would also feel that I was very much responsible for getting us out of it.
 |
| In the briefing, not paying attention. Pic: James Kirby |
We got to Cracoe village hall and parked up, registered, picked up our maps, grabbed a brew and sat down to try and get a plan together. Sitting in on one of James T's newcomer briefings was good, Rachel listened in to the maestro himself while I scribbled things on the map, highlighting the possible bike routes and crossing out things I knew to avoid. Parts of the bike area intersected with stuff we'd ridden on the Grassington race back in April 2018, so I remembered what some of the trails were like back then when it was drier (and the bit I made a massive nav cock-up on, ho-hum...). There'd been a couple of tweaks and a change to the format in the run-up to the event, with the run start actually being over at Malham, making it bike-run-bike rather than just two stages. One of James's tips for newcomers was to head pretty directly to the run transition, then pick up bike points on the way back. "It's about 20mins direct by road" was a phrase that had popped up in a pre-event email, in some eerily rubbish foreshadowing, but I'll come back to that...
We faffed. Well, I'll rephrase that, I faffed. It took me ages to get my shit together, so we ended up being some of the last to start at about 9:50am. We dibbed out, got the description sheets and sat down to fine-tune our plan, though with only one dummy CP (which we hadn't planned to go to anyway) it didn't take much fine tuning. We set off to do what James had suggested, that 20min leg direct to Malham for the run...
Bike #1: 16.32km / 239m ascent / 1:47:53
https://connect.garmin.com/modern/activity/4532586400
Within a mile of the start we hit the first bit of flooding, just coming into Hetton, so we rode through what we could and waded what we couldn't. All of the local becks were out of their banks, and the roads were getting inundated as the field drains couldn't cope. Things were pretty grim, the wind was high and the odd squally shower lashed down, and it was all a bit uncomfortable, but we were out and moving and not too cold, so we pushed on as best we could.
 |
| Not us, but the section where I came off. Pic: James Kirby |
I relaxed and went with it for a while: while inconvenient, there was no immediate danger, the water wasn't deep enough for my head to go under and I was sitting upright. As the gradient eased and the flow subsided a bit I managed to dislodge myself from the bikes, pick myself up, and get back on my feet, while the two errant steeds drifted along a bit further. Rachel caught us up, and we waded along toward where the bikes had finally come to rest. Picking them up, Rachel's bars had twisted to one side and one end had been ground down a bit by the submerged tarmac, but there seemed to be little other damage aside from having ground the backside of my waterproof trousers, so we waded out of the flood and found a slightly sheltered place to do running repairs and sanity checks (none found: situation normal). Bars realigned, a quick breather, some food, and a mental note to myself to try not to do that again and we were off, climbing sharply, looking at the map and hoping the Aire wasn't misbehaving around the bridge between Calton and Airton - if it had been we would effectively have been trapped if we stayed low, and the winds weren't making going up higher that appealing an option. Fortunately, the bridge was well clear, and we trotted along nicely towards Kirby Malham, nipping up for an out-and-back to our first CP above 'Windy Pike' - funnily enough it was windy there - and onwards to the run transition at Malham itself, over an hour and three quarters after we set off. So much for 20 flipping minutes...
 |
| Around the gate at Malham Cove. Pic: John Bamber |
Run: 4.79km / 143m ascent / 0:49:49
https://connect.garmin.com/modern/activity/4531448513
 |
| Down from the cove, still smiling! Pic: John Bamber |
Bike #2: 19.39km / 337m ascent / 2:09:38
https://connect.garmin.com/modern/activity/4532586426
We climbed steeply from Malham up Malham Rakes, headed towards the tarn and the top of Mastiles Lane, with one CP on the way up the climb, one up on the Roman earthworks near Street Gate, and a few options to either zig-zag if we were so inclined, or head fairly straight if we felt we needed to. The wind had dropped a fair amount, the showers had all but stopped, and there was even a hint of blue sky, so it was much improved from when we'd exited the hall three hours previous. Climbing up the tarmac was a drag, but part way up we realised we'd have a tailwind for a good chunk of the lap home, giving a mental boost as well as a bit of assist. Turning on to Mastiles we dropped down to Gordale Beck and the ford there. We'd seen a pair ahead of us cross, but there was a lot of water coming down, so we stopped, looked, looked some more, and I started walking towards the water to test it out. "Erm, Carrick? Can we try a bit further upstream?" came the voice of reason from Rachel. Directly below the ford there was a hanging gate/barrier as a boundary. Again, maybe the over-cautious side of being kayakers, but with the volume of water that gate was forming a really unpleasant looking strainer. If either of us had slipped in the ford, it could have been pretty unpleasant, so we hiked upstream 30 yards or so to give ourselves some leeway, crossed at a slightly wider patch where the flow was less strong, then hiked back down the wall at the far side to the gate. We shouted back to a pair that arrived behind us that we'd seen others cross there but had opted to go upstream ourselves, and let them get on with it. They came past us a few minutes later, they'd crossed fine but agreed that it was hard work.
 |
| Roman Camp in the sun! Pic: Eddie Winthorpe |
We canned the zig-zag options and turned right at CP3 to head onto tarmac down to Threshfield, pick up 3 more CPs and leave CP13 as an option. It was nice to be going downhill, fairly fast, and to be out of the wind a bit, but we were going to be running tight on time. We picked up CP14, headed along the more major road and over the slippy, leafy lane to CP10, then made for the road back home - through, of course, one more section of flooding. The wind, of course, had decided it had been far too nice to us across the tops and was now blowing in our faces, just when we needed it least. We were pushing hard along the road, gritting our teeth, when all of a sudden there's a shout from behind me - a momentary chainsuck and Rachel's chain is jammed up on the stay. Quick maintenance, un-jam the chain, jump back on and we go as hard as our legs will manage, up into Cracoe village and along to the hall, dibbing in to the finish utterly, utterly done.
 |
| Finished and knackered. Pic: James Kirby |
All in all, a cracking but pushy day for us and everyone else. Some of the worst conditions I've raced in for a very long time, but made better by good company, so massive thanks to Rachel for not calling me an idiot and bailing on me. A baptism of fire (or water, whichever you prefer) for her, but hopefully I haven't put anyone off trying Adventure Racing! As usual, also a massive thank you to James and all of the volunteers and team at Open Adventure for putting on the event - challenging day for the staff as much as the participants, so huge thanks.
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