tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-70206782024-03-13T22:40:48.690-07:00Pyro's Yard v2.0The miscellaneous ramblings of the perpetually bemused.Carrick 'Pyro' Armerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08705410588749063217noreply@blogger.comBlogger190125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7020678.post-80644385225306869092023-06-13T01:33:00.006-07:002023-06-13T01:50:56.634-07:00Dalby's Inferno (and the 10 Circles of Suffering)<p>So this was an interesting one, in quite a lot of ways. The basic premise is a 50km Ultra, split down into 10 'circles', themed loosely on Dante's Inferno. Starting from 9am, run a 5km trail loop with a touch over 100m of ascent/descent, on the hour, every hour, for 10 hours. You can miss a lap by choice or if you are over the time for a lap, but if you do so you can't run the final 'Centre of Hell' lap, which unlike the previous nine, is an actual race (at least if you want it to be). Steve had spotted the event online, and sent me a the entry link in early February with a message saying "Fancy a laugh?" I decided that I did, so we both put entries in. Unfortunately, 6 weeks later he sent me a picture from a foreign hospital of his leg in a splint/moon boot, which meant I was probably flying this one solo...</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCWPboe7-htkKjRJJmEbw4TCIAhvKe7BnTUDa4BwwkGl4GCZNR304bcXTmtonpwFm1qWIVOaVdrCVp_Cts6zN2_0c4VfBKvyDYRQPPFCCs-e4BOO0BqUNc5eMPf0RDGEb8Ht4HpMrz9V_ooxLeX3K4kb_9ba76jE5dtgo3x871MZXZdD5an3E/s2919/Inferno%201.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2919" data-original-width="2085" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCWPboe7-htkKjRJJmEbw4TCIAhvKe7BnTUDa4BwwkGl4GCZNR304bcXTmtonpwFm1qWIVOaVdrCVp_Cts6zN2_0c4VfBKvyDYRQPPFCCs-e4BOO0BqUNc5eMPf0RDGEb8Ht4HpMrz9V_ooxLeX3K4kb_9ba76jE5dtgo3x871MZXZdD5an3E/w143-h200/Inferno%201.jpg" width="143" /></a></div>I'm never going to be one to say that I'm now a pro and Ultras come easy, but I wasn't overly nervous about this one - and I probably looked over-prepared in some ways. The format meant that sitting a lap out (but still covering a respectable 40km though the day) was a viable option, the main intention was to see where my fitness and pacing was at this point in the year, and the only real aim was to hopefully complete all ten laps. The heat forecast over the weekend meant it was definitely going to be an inferno of some sort, so priority one was to stay the right way up, look after myself, and make sure I was in a fit state to keep moving, rather than wobbling around dehydrated and punch-drunk. Been there, done that, got the T-shirt and didn't particularly enjoy it, thanks very much: Would not recommend as a race strategy.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV8X54uT__Iv18awwaRGNSeXPFFNhI3hyBEDOx3ep_SrFh-PoXvyt8Eb3PcFMrk170iH8eRVCFA3_IDeXAroxcGFwyU_fKQP03f22pmhErZfZcdwEQFHRu3DI5rRO8yAVj_i7xJxeOcqkZrj2OvEtiwAecOwY3U4KOZRLYFM8QdZ2Xt5WGQ0k/s3150/Inferno%202.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="3150" height="229" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV8X54uT__Iv18awwaRGNSeXPFFNhI3hyBEDOx3ep_SrFh-PoXvyt8Eb3PcFMrk170iH8eRVCFA3_IDeXAroxcGFwyU_fKQP03f22pmhErZfZcdwEQFHRu3DI5rRO8yAVj_i7xJxeOcqkZrj2OvEtiwAecOwY3U4KOZRLYFM8QdZ2Xt5WGQ0k/w320-h229/Inferno%202.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Fortunately, in the mustering area at the start you could lay out a small 'pit' with kit for between laps, food, drink etc, and you could have support crews there if you could find anyone daft enough to spend 10hrs alternating between 'feeding you' and 'waiting to feed you'. I'd set mine up with a camping table and chair, coolbox full of bottles of electrolyte, water carrier and a few varied bits of food - either stuff to eat between laps or grab bags I could shove into a running belt/bag to nibble on trail if I didn't have much downtime. Add in spare shoes, a few other tops/Buffs/hats and my headphones just in case, and I was pretty set to go.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKXrSiAlr4qnAvYtQrOq5ZRKMPJI7pzZHEQjKn34N_-aHm0bAZv2uW8KUCWtBZ9x_FVzJsWAf7u01aSa0jT-Rw7ITKbydFFSmnGePTwHDkPeA2Q-vBWY12UVhOWS288YU-005l5oIb-QqXt3awGnX0yf_aKiBPS1Y7wR1oATDKZlZWfGiN02M/s2048/Inferno%203.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKXrSiAlr4qnAvYtQrOq5ZRKMPJI7pzZHEQjKn34N_-aHm0bAZv2uW8KUCWtBZ9x_FVzJsWAf7u01aSa0jT-Rw7ITKbydFFSmnGePTwHDkPeA2Q-vBWY12UVhOWS288YU-005l5oIb-QqXt3awGnX0yf_aKiBPS1Y7wR1oATDKZlZWfGiN02M/w150-h200/Inferno%203.jpg" width="150" /></a></div>After a quick briefing at 8:30am, we started the first lap at dead-on 9:00, headed out clockwise, with a bit of excitement and maybe a bit of trepidation since it was already pretty damn warm. The course was good, some steep descents and climbs interspersed with flatter sections of forest road, one lovely winding singletrack section through the trees and over roots and planting lanes that demanded a little bit of concentration, and some grassy sections where ruts had baked hard so tweaking an ankle was a risk. I took things steady and opted for a pace I felt like I could maintain all day, set some points around the steeper sections of "I start walking here, then I start running again there" and fixed those markers in my head - that would come in useful later in the day. A leisurely 41:29 lap later and I was back to base, with enough time to eat, drink, stretch, nip to the loo etc. No major stress.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN96-98BeUEpxU-SjKWeu4fH5R1qwSpf3gfaDpLc0MqsgotbFb-qxgDf4AcJNFiyYLju2cytnJCdHJXELKQLrumkP0QyGWO6gszSL_oDcKN77-4aaOIQab_ZOhlrUyTZSR3_F9sdC2btWk2H0N6tFFrTvpUKw4mGvJaSTsMiu0jHV0ibUSvDU/s2048/Inferno%204.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1463" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN96-98BeUEpxU-SjKWeu4fH5R1qwSpf3gfaDpLc0MqsgotbFb-qxgDf4AcJNFiyYLju2cytnJCdHJXELKQLrumkP0QyGWO6gszSL_oDcKN77-4aaOIQab_ZOhlrUyTZSR3_F9sdC2btWk2H0N6tFFrTvpUKw4mGvJaSTsMiu0jHV0ibUSvDU/w143-h200/Inferno%204.jpg" width="143" /></a></div>Soon enough, we were lining up for lap two to start, and I was headed for the same strategy again: take things steady, set those marker points, chat to people and just generally enjoy the day, then use the minor interlude between laps to do the necessary bits of maintenance. Anticlockwise this time had a little bit different feel - the lowest point of the course was offset - 2km into the clockwise lap, 3km into that anticlockwise, so this way round gave a longer, more runnable descent but shorter, steeper climbs. Strangely enough, I rolled in in a very similar time - 41:14 - and feeling happy enough, so I was hopefully setting up for a nice, steady consistent day. I was determined not to dwell on my watch and just to run/walk by feel and by those markers, so while I did glance at my wrist a few times, it was curiosity and amusement rather than run-by-numbers.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU50FY5rPiHXxXJTlQniDPL2YQ9e-rONr9yqk-MoJzTkz_t718uJT_-2R_amd9WKjyUrhr7twHmNMzA8tUHvXHxunKDiB6Dksz_p4X-xXIL-PQ_FzQ0cXmqxmsFvwzY76V9ReUxQjt-R_l_vKLJJ0sQtlKJRZUxbRgi8akMmu5i1F-JV9AO78/s3756/Inferno%205.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3756" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU50FY5rPiHXxXJTlQniDPL2YQ9e-rONr9yqk-MoJzTkz_t718uJT_-2R_amd9WKjyUrhr7twHmNMzA8tUHvXHxunKDiB6Dksz_p4X-xXIL-PQ_FzQ0cXmqxmsFvwzY76V9ReUxQjt-R_l_vKLJJ0sQtlKJRZUxbRgi8akMmu5i1F-JV9AO78/s320/Inferno%205.png" width="92" /></a></div>I won't recap every single lap, but there were a few little moments of joy in each lap, and at no point did it ever really feel like a death-march to La-La Land, like Ultras can do sometimes. My laps times were superbly consistent throughout that day (as you should see from the pic on the left) and the run-rest-run-rest formatting meant I never felt properly dire, though my notes had a few comments that are worth flagging:<p></p><p><i><b>Lap 3</b> - "Open space ahead of you does not mean you have to accelerate into it"</i> - said, I think, by one of last year's competitors. Only the last lap is a 'race' on here, there's no prizes for fastest on lap 2, 3, 4 etc, so just going at your own pace is fine. The guy in the pit next to me was running 30-35min laps perfectly happily all day,. 41-something seemed to suit me just fine!</p><p><i><b>Lap 5 </b>- "Burpy, maybe too much liquid between laps"</i> - I was understandably wary of giving myself stomach problems, but giving myself wind by necking my drinks too fast probably didn't help. I'd had a double espresso and a bottle of apple juice, plus some electrolyte. Maybe a bit too much</p><p><i><b>Lap 7</b> - "Starting to feel it - no surprise - bit of fatigue around hips"</i> - I've spent a couple of months trying to get a hip flexor injury sorted out, and desperately didn't want it to creep back in - I've been unusually regimented about stretching and doing strength work. Fortunately, bar a couple of very small twinges nothing ever came of it, and this was just the cumulative effects of 35km of running.</p><p><i><b></b></i></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvDUMUyQSxCcIL8nQedVdEv0H6_pWJtS1_lCZpWPazJgwVCok_aV9dabiNv_Rh_i29eOyBY8rSihtbhVBxJh8nMXWlr5lWqkLDyo8Hd7cl8NiU3znc_YP2LItH4GDXW1bmMJVpVUvvh10t1vu5m6Un-sot8v8AyhMLHtVIlCf01YQ6rlF2mQM/s3600/Inferno%206.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="3600" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvDUMUyQSxCcIL8nQedVdEv0H6_pWJtS1_lCZpWPazJgwVCok_aV9dabiNv_Rh_i29eOyBY8rSihtbhVBxJh8nMXWlr5lWqkLDyo8Hd7cl8NiU3znc_YP2LItH4GDXW1bmMJVpVUvvh10t1vu5m6Un-sot8v8AyhMLHtVIlCf01YQ6rlF2mQM/s320/Inferno%206.jpg" width="320" /></a></b></i></div><i><b>Lap 8</b> - "Would be bargaining with myself if I hadn't set those non-negotiables"</i> - One of those laps where mental conversation could easily have gone <i>"Well, if I just walk another 10 paces here it won't matter and I'll run the next bit a bit quicker instead..."</i> Except I wouldn't. Those fixed points kept things honest, even though bits of me were starting to hurt. Despite all of that, I was pretty soon at the end of lap 8 and into the final couple of furlongs. I took off the calf guards and changed into my road shoes, since everything was baked hard and the extra squish and cushioning of the Hokas would be a fairly welcome change. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtXMuA8FPNIZRov-jov9Va78k2l_AqB35Eizh-2KLTgDu5CzRF9tMjeqsH0DK5_bNQO9Xn3T1tBlyn9l5M5StOgP10ukSmyXp28kl-e0epDE3ZLwFXxG1HAhHeDGnuinlSzcgCIysgjGACeyF5BtulFSZOwvaMCWsCYOxE_62T7mS70ENPLlM/s3150/Inferno%207.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3150" data-original-width="2250" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtXMuA8FPNIZRov-jov9Va78k2l_AqB35Eizh-2KLTgDu5CzRF9tMjeqsH0DK5_bNQO9Xn3T1tBlyn9l5M5StOgP10ukSmyXp28kl-e0epDE3ZLwFXxG1HAhHeDGnuinlSzcgCIysgjGACeyF5BtulFSZOwvaMCWsCYOxE_62T7mS70ENPLlM/s320/Inferno%207.jpg" width="229" /></a></div>Lap 9 came and went and the first lady home got to choose the final lap direction - anticlockwise, so we got the longer descent and steeper climb. No worries either way, again I was still just going to trot steadily, and the changes of direction had made no difference at all to my lap times. I ran the first half of that lap with a lad called Chris who I'd chatted to a few times through the day, and through the rooty, twisty section it was the best I'd run it all day - just really flowy despite the choppy surface. Not quite a 'runner's high' but that feeling like my feet knew where they wanted to be without me thinking about it too much, which was great 46-odd km into a run. Chris dropped me towards the end of the descent, but more steady, happy running saw me in not far behind him at the finish line, and he came over to say well done, which was cool. <p></p><p>So yeah, all in all, a really interesting way to run an Ultra. Probably a great way to run a 'safe' first Ultra, ticking off the laps one-by-one. For me, a nice tester of the legs and the head at this point in the season, and a really lovely way to do it, with a really pleasant atmosphere and good camaraderie through the whole thing, plus as an interesting fundraiser for <a href="https://www.srmrt.org.uk/">Scarborough & Ryedale MRT</a> it should hopefully have chucked some pennies in the bank for a good cause. I've never needed their assistance yet but play in their patch pretty regularly, so this one might even be something I might possibly do again in future.</p><p>Cheers!</p><p></p><p></p>Carrick 'Pyro' Armerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08705410588749063217noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7020678.post-70854088922588405722023-03-12T13:10:00.000-07:002023-03-12T13:10:11.239-07:00Misadventure Racing - Open5 Coniston 2023<p style="text-align: right;"><br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRTvnIWPOvRKCBZJKJXF3KAVw5DDDnMS0II1B6UkBobvq742AtVfzSLMdMPo7lafn2s37HABaTfofUWIX8ogaUyJsRrcfQoGPCayzENMcKPqwW93mjUjJcpPCEC9e89Nt1bHqhddk6LWGOx9EY6UCZOchqAVHz8_9rJkMUXtzzQ9bP3VJ2smk/s1080/Coniston%20quote.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="565" data-original-width="1080" height="209" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRTvnIWPOvRKCBZJKJXF3KAVw5DDDnMS0II1B6UkBobvq742AtVfzSLMdMPo7lafn2s37HABaTfofUWIX8ogaUyJsRrcfQoGPCayzENMcKPqwW93mjUjJcpPCEC9e89Nt1bHqhddk6LWGOx9EY6UCZOchqAVHz8_9rJkMUXtzzQ9bP3VJ2smk/w400-h209/Coniston%20quote.png" width="400" /></a></div><p></p><p>I think this screenshot of a post-race WhatsApp conversation is a pretty good place to start this one. Green text is me, White is Rachel, who very graciously agreed to race with me again for this year's Open5 despite some early misgivings.</p><p>I haven't had the best of starts to the year, with dental surgery and a niggling hip injury to deal with, but this race was far less of a trial for me than it was for star teammate Rachel: she broke her ankle very badly in August '21, and is still trying to get back to the sort of form she was on that summer. While she's back on a bike and in a boat, she's still struggling to run without the ankle seizing up or a fair amount of pain. On top of that, the last time we raced together three years ago, we spent a day <a href="https://pyrosyard.blogspot.com/2020/02/misadventure-racing-open5-cracoe.html">trying not to get swept away by floodwater</a> in the Yorkshire Dales, so didn't exactly have the best induction to the AR world even when uninjured.</p>1st February I was on her side of the city for a dental appointment, so messaged and we went for an hours potter around the local fields, putting the world to rights and generally just having a (slightly slurred, in my case) good old chinwag. We both bemoaned a general lack of fitness for our respective reasons, but the Open5 actually didn't crop up in the conversation - I was supposed to be at the National Student Rodeo as a photographer the same weekend, so hadn't originally factored it in. Then the following day, the cancellation of the NSR was formally announced and thoughts turned to the Open5 as something else to do that weekend. I knew Raff was entered, so I messaged him saying I probably was too and he chimed up with <i>"Reckon you can convince Rachel if you do a more bike-heavy day?"</i>. Ooh, now there's a thought... I messaged her and over the new week or so the conversation went a bit like this...<p></p><p><i><b>Me:</b> Would you race Open5 with me if we walk to a single run checkpoint then go play on bikes?<br /><b>Rach:</b> I've not been on my bike for months so I'm not sure I have the fitness for 5 hours at the moment. <br /><b>Me: </b>We can take a picnic...<br /><b>Rach:</b> I could be up for it as long as you really don't mind being slow<br /><b>Me: </b>Like I say, we can take a picnic, and try not to slide down a flooded road on our asses this time... <br /><b>Rach:</b> Ah, I don't know. I feel like I should and I do want to but I haven't done more than 2 on the bike since ankle-gate.<br /><b>Me:</b> Two on the bike, plus an hours gentle walk?<br /><b>Rach: </b>As long as you are absolutely sure that you don't mind being slow, and you promise me we aren't white water swimming with our bikes this time. </i></p><p>What can I say: I wanted a fun day out with a mate who I thought could use a fun day out. I also thought it would be a laugh to enter the pair of us as 'Team 3-Legged Race'... </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixAMffapBN3ceIlVRCwMZlX2pwgkLLcsWLUNx-H4_8SC_VFB2o7MMUMdRvgYrIX5cnnylKGZfQ0Csh4gQC7pzVLVrosdf2Ij852xYlZRfAG6lonTBLOwj-NJ8IAo4pweoztmQyWlzoys5a_BZDRUEx0BRaHmbGgNuHwuNq00Z0g22pRCT3LDA/s2992/Maps.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="2992" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixAMffapBN3ceIlVRCwMZlX2pwgkLLcsWLUNx-H4_8SC_VFB2o7MMUMdRvgYrIX5cnnylKGZfQ0Csh4gQC7pzVLVrosdf2Ij852xYlZRfAG6lonTBLOwj-NJ8IAo4pweoztmQyWlzoys5a_BZDRUEx0BRaHmbGgNuHwuNq00Z0g22pRCT3LDA/s320/Maps.png" width="320" /></a></div>We headed up on Saturday evening and stayed just south of Coniston at Moss Side Farm, in a 'Railway pod', their old guards van styled camping pod type things. The aforementioned Raff and his teammate Simon (who I'd met at The Heb back in 2019) were there as an advance party, Simon sharing the Pod with us and Raff in his van, so they'd checked in, had dinner and got the wood burner on to warm the place up as it was set to be a chilly night. We had our dinner and a look over the map from <a href="https://pyrosyard.blogspot.com/2017/12/misadventure-racing-open5-coniston.html">last time there'd been an Open5 in Coniston</a>, back in 2017. I was hedging my bet on the bike area being similar, north and east of town, up past Hodge Close and over to the Langdales and Loughrigg, with Hawkshead and Grizedale as southerly options. The run back in '17 was south-east of town, up onto the Old Man, but there's so much fell side to the east that it was fairly obvious that it would be that way. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh99rQE-76wX2xJQ6mAXuR4-ucdBVcW7s35nRU0EcXDrPFTD3pmoSTIkmbOg9y8E5QJRsXvwC8CkyC5dPRgLqnn2RS2KveJ7cqUOMyjIPhJZ0ng_82OafPeMuDb4xCbJZosAaQaoEdBUliaRsw5Kv_dxYBdwZAhRFjC8XYlGi1pEpM5Sxk5wXE/s2048/Coniston1.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh99rQE-76wX2xJQ6mAXuR4-ucdBVcW7s35nRU0EcXDrPFTD3pmoSTIkmbOg9y8E5QJRsXvwC8CkyC5dPRgLqnn2RS2KveJ7cqUOMyjIPhJZ0ng_82OafPeMuDb4xCbJZosAaQaoEdBUliaRsw5Kv_dxYBdwZAhRFjC8XYlGi1pEpM5Sxk5wXE/s320/Coniston1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>After a good but chilly night's sleep, briefly interrupted by a cockerel at 5am and an owl hooting not much after that, it was time to get up and sorted. Base layers on while still half in the sleeping bag, just to try and get some warmth into things quickly, stove on for porridge and the mokka pot - though as I nipped out to the loo Raff was wandering towards the pod with a large cafetiere in hand. We got ourselves packed away and headed up to race registration at John Ruskin school. The usual mass of friends to greet and chat with, the usual jokes about me seemingly knowing everyone (not quite everyone, but a lot - AR is a small and friendly community!), but we got signed in and sat down with the maps to put together a plan. The bike section was almost exactly as I'd pictured it, with the run section slightly further north than last time, but that all worked out okay. There were four CPs making a nice looking low-level run loop that I reckoned would be about an hour, even just at a decent walking pace, then a good bike loop through Tilberthwaite and over to Little Langdale and Elterwater with some good options - either longer or shorter - for the return. All pretty good, and with kit packed up to suit, we dropped our bikes and a transition bag in the pen and were ready to go.<p></p><p><b><i>Run: 7.07km, 111m ascent, 01:08:18</i></b></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhleyTGF6JxkNVLVRcql4ZuKMMB3hhS6sR-xL-MSDRhs2fZNWirm1uTLf7kMInJQPJ_7To_ejvT2BpWosXwon6V1KL7kJoky_qxyWYN2N4dtpNKP4L2tM0AZot_zNb6HbTcRYHykstXLcaf4tIslzjzm8JbDhT4ue4Mn17KGOAwVhHBYsfS7yc/s2048/Coniston4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhleyTGF6JxkNVLVRcql4ZuKMMB3hhS6sR-xL-MSDRhs2fZNWirm1uTLf7kMInJQPJ_7To_ejvT2BpWosXwon6V1KL7kJoky_qxyWYN2N4dtpNKP4L2tM0AZot_zNb6HbTcRYHykstXLcaf4tIslzjzm8JbDhT4ue4Mn17KGOAwVhHBYsfS7yc/s320/Coniston4.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Picking the control descriptions and values up from Jim as we started, we crossed off the 'dummy' controls and hoped that our route plan was pretty much intact. All four of the run CPs we were aiming for were live, so that was a great start. We hiked up the road to the junction, turned right, and Rachel starts jogging... I thought we were just walking this bit?! Turns out she can do 30 second-ish jog intervals as long as they're on decent surface and with a couple of minutes walk between them. Brilliant!<p></p><div><p></p><p><br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNcx__54cFZFOT8zVaj5ZknLmQSCgrug6CO6H_KWyPbwXKAotMq6lbmOOoqU3IA2BFugn9NJ1Y1Fcjwy4VVQ5DcfeViQINbOF8kWSslGhUnPAZoAYi7n5Ykjg01ldqDQEaKD1GFi2j4tjmJwZxqOdbKidTjtWI_mt5hvwrpwjKEcLsDMNkVTE/s3264/IMG_20230305_105901272_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1836" data-original-width="3264" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNcx__54cFZFOT8zVaj5ZknLmQSCgrug6CO6H_KWyPbwXKAotMq6lbmOOoqU3IA2BFugn9NJ1Y1Fcjwy4VVQ5DcfeViQINbOF8kWSslGhUnPAZoAYi7n5Ykjg01ldqDQEaKD1GFi2j4tjmJwZxqOdbKidTjtWI_mt5hvwrpwjKEcLsDMNkVTE/s320/IMG_20230305_105901272_HDR.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>So we jog a bit, walk a bit, head up past Holly How YHA onto the bridleway/cyclepath just to get off the road, and do some more jog-a-bit-walk-a-bit intervals along the gravel track to our first (and furthest away for this bit) CP. We hadn't seen many others heading the same way as us but that was fine, as we turned back towards base past Low Yewdale farm and up to our next CP in Guards Wood more competitors - presumably on far longer loops than us - headed past us the opposite way. We said hello and kept trotting steadily on, back down to town and down to Water Head pier and the lake shore for another CP on a little bridge, then a little jog up Lake Road for an out-and-back to our last run CP. As we punched in to that and headed back, Rachel tried a jog and quickly stopped - "I just pushed it a little bit too long on that last run interval. It's frustrating, the rest of the leg and the lungs and the head are fine, but the ankle's not there yet". The way it goes, and no sense wrecking anything for the future, so we just walk back to the school and through transition to head out to bike. We'd covered 7km-ish in a touch over an hour, which was bang on plan so even with a nearly 10 minute transition, we're still in a really good place.<p></p><p><b><i>Bike: 28.72km, 665m ascent, 03:33:36</i></b></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGUQuzMkgwAQFPs5HuqIwGRXjMQgUM2AVt5ATJTuZa3BZTKMzBFdShdI2G75EAwDE-V9tf6s6Jx6Ae0h9F79V_XBCBvo_YAPKzXIvlZTZtjCiTMEdh3YViy97UlKOxYg6HC5K2-5xXURdw-TPp08ZC8RMxHthWon17SEXZh5Z0iDaJm2x6GrI/s4000/IMG_20230305_112819746.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2250" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGUQuzMkgwAQFPs5HuqIwGRXjMQgUM2AVt5ATJTuZa3BZTKMzBFdShdI2G75EAwDE-V9tf6s6Jx6Ae0h9F79V_XBCBvo_YAPKzXIvlZTZtjCiTMEdh3YViy97UlKOxYg6HC5K2-5xXURdw-TPp08ZC8RMxHthWon17SEXZh5Z0iDaJm2x6GrI/s320/IMG_20230305_112819746.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>First order of the day on the bikes is to head out of town the same we did on foot, up the cycleway north - and I rode this way recently with Ben and Ele so I'm pretty happy with what we're planning right now! First CP is hanging under a bridge that we must have run over earlier without noticing, and it's a good high point scorer, not that we're paying much attention to the points. We head onwards to the next one, overlooking the 'Touchstone Fold' at Tilberthwaite - I have a bit of a dither trying to work out if this is a bike or a run CP, turns out I'm just reading the grid number rather than the CP number (yes, I'm an idiot...). The CP marked on Slater's Bridge is a dummy, so we take the higher track round Great Intake over to the end of Little Langdale Tarn, going cautiously on the loose slate descent, then pausing at the gate onto the road for a quick bite of food. <p></p><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3Da5ZaenekAn0s9vpZoPRt2LLZBHvYSRVc2q2r8nkQQQ6xjNPKP303RlUKcRKWhVNOFilYxG_Grje0uCXy7VpR4DZhrk4W_mwRkW-2AHgN9spYlJNlY6nETfuft_LODK9hWO24al3Z8mLBDQo-AjmvY2kg1LUFMEg6St-Qwy1kkpbruB-PRg/s4000/IMG_20230305_130307338.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3Da5ZaenekAn0s9vpZoPRt2LLZBHvYSRVc2q2r8nkQQQ6xjNPKP303RlUKcRKWhVNOFilYxG_Grje0uCXy7VpR4DZhrk4W_mwRkW-2AHgN9spYlJNlY6nETfuft_LODK9hWO24al3Z8mLBDQo-AjmvY2kg1LUFMEg6St-Qwy1kkpbruB-PRg/s320/IMG_20230305_130307338.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>CP 6, just off the track I know as 'Ullett Nest', is an obvious goer, and I'd planned to pass close to Elterwater on the basis of knowing a good cafe there - if we were having a bad time, were struggling or cold there was a chance for a coffee and some hot food. As it is, we're both okay, warm enough despite the chilly air and good to continue. We pick up CP 6, there's another that we could out-and-back just along beyond Baysbrown Farm but it's only a 10 pointer so we skip it, and say the same for the one just round from the old school at Skelwith Bridge - that would be a long descent and climb for not many points. There's a 25 on the bridleway that runs back towards Hodge Close, and we head to that - it's at the top of the first steep ramp, and we bump into Ian Furlong and then Paul McGreal there, and have a brief chat. "Where you headed next?" says Paul. We've still got a good two hours on the clock at this point, so we've discussed heading to 12 up above Arnside Intake/Iron Keld. "I've just come from there. It'll be a haul up, 50/50 rideable, but it's great once you're up there." Seems like sound advice and we're okay for time, so we climb up to the main road, head left then pull into the gateway where the bridleway climb begins. We push for a while, it's not horrendously steep but it's quad/land rover track, loose in places and we might as well just take it steady. Once we're higher up there's more rideable sections and we're pretty soon looking at a cracking view back across the Langdales and posing for pics. </div></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>We pick up 12 and start looking at our next options. The finish sequence is pretty obvious, CPs 16 and 18 are a 35 and a 40 pointer, and one of the pre-race briefing emails had said <i>"Since printing, the route between CP16-18 is acceptable on bike (mapped as footpath, signposted bridleway)"</i> - meaning an off-road descent and flat road to finish. There'd be a couple of steeper climbs to get there, but they were both on road so a bit less hassle than trail. We still have decent time in hand so after a lovely piece of descent down from Iron Keld we added few k's of flattish out-and-back to pick up CP 11 for an extra 25 points - this turned out to be at the bottom of the horribly steep trail I'd slithered up in the ice on the last race here that I really shouldn't have bothered with!</div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHbqcCGkFyThFIJ7HAgpJkxbj3GMAop_xvTBtddpy8Uam7ylTVofqnuy3nShCwnGIXkpb39Zx7SkjOrP7NO0Tmz3k84-xODikiKl3CAl_06rjcdlFGXeGlQa7WAS7HOP3ssxvEUZlLEbBcGA7M-khXiUC_Qt-Sog_73aqY7gnyiD4OVxbZYTc/s2048/Coniston2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHbqcCGkFyThFIJ7HAgpJkxbj3GMAop_xvTBtddpy8Uam7ylTVofqnuy3nShCwnGIXkpb39Zx7SkjOrP7NO0Tmz3k84-xODikiKl3CAl_06rjcdlFGXeGlQa7WAS7HOP3ssxvEUZlLEbBcGA7M-khXiUC_Qt-Sog_73aqY7gnyiD4OVxbZYTc/s320/Coniston2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>As we started the climb towards Tarn Hows, I think we were both starting to feel it. Rachel was pushing her hardest and climbing really well, but I think we were both flagging and glad that we were nearly done. She admits she's not got a lot left in the legs, but these road climbs are okay at the moment. A solo racer came alongside while we'd paused to check nav on the climb, worried that he was short of time - we had 40mins on the clock, he only had 20 - and he thought he was going to have to descend and climb again for 18 as he hadn't seen the briefing email. We had a brief frantic search together for CP16, and pointed out to him that the track was legitimate. We dived into the woods and had a whale of a time on the funky trail down through the trees, limbo-ing one fallen tree and crawling under another, until we came out at a junction. Another quick search and we found our last CP, then dropped down some more excellent trail back to Boon Crag and the road back to Coniston - Rachel obviously rallying on the descent to take 9th on the women's leaderboard for that Strava segment. On the flat at the bottom, I took the front for a pace line back to base and asked about the day: <i>"How have you found it then?" </i>There's a pause, and the response comes back <i>"Definitely more Type 1 fun than last time." </i>That, to be honest, will do - and makes a nice headline for the day. </div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlX8jyJ2E1DfF8jrIkBp3JTgNLlxVHoc5iR594y81XJ0CQnmGYzR3Us-lltE6KD-9gdCmtCgb3g3nvxtq79Z8iHv1WVfGIhrfEMZ36TXrTAifcZa6f67iLewqJ0c5eZaJdNrQ1FVUm0OmFhn5b7GBsKiL4TVfEEo1_J_iyGh_cj7_oqgAjs4s/s2048/Coniston3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlX8jyJ2E1DfF8jrIkBp3JTgNLlxVHoc5iR594y81XJ0CQnmGYzR3Us-lltE6KD-9gdCmtCgb3g3nvxtq79Z8iHv1WVfGIhrfEMZ36TXrTAifcZa6f67iLewqJ0c5eZaJdNrQ1FVUm0OmFhn5b7GBsKiL4TVfEEo1_J_iyGh_cj7_oqgAjs4s/s320/Coniston3.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>We roll in to the finish with nearly 10mins to spare on the clock, and as Jim approaches with the SI box, the gent who'd been with us and short on time rolls along side, so I point his way and tell Jim to "Dib him in first!". We're well in time, and both, I think, very happy. We'd pushed ourselves a little bit further than we'd originally planned, picked up some extras over our base loop, pulled a respectable score together, finished without penalties and in my case, kept the arse of my trousers intact, so that's one-up on Cracoe. We're both still smiling, and it's been a pretty awesome day. Raff and Simon finish just behind us, also within time and happy, they've got a few more points than us and are both grinning from ear to ear. The ever-lovely James Kirby grabs a few pics of us, we ask nicely for a group shot and of course I have to have one looking angry at him (for that seems to be my natural expression when racing). We get changed, download, grab some food and a cuppa and applaud all of the category winners - while neither pair is challenging the podium, we're 9th out of 11 in Mixed Pairs and Raff and Simon are 10th out of 22 in Male Pairs, so respectable enough for us all. We have a quick coffee, pack shit up, then sort ourselves out for a couple of hours drive home...<br /><br />Huge thanks to Tri-Adventure for continuing to put on the Open5 races, and apparently continuing to maintain the Open5 Lifetime Points database - I'm a couple of races off my 5,000 going by current averages. Massive thanks and admiration to Rachel for being talked into pushing herself out of her comfort zone for the day and doing it all with a smile, and to Raff and Simon for making the weekend a good one. And, as always, big thanks to James Kirby for the official photos (though I'm not posting the angry one on here...)<br /><br />Till next time!<br /><br />Pyro<br /><br /><br /></div>Carrick 'Pyro' Armerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08705410588749063217noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7020678.post-75482033496808663062022-09-09T04:17:00.020-07:002022-09-09T04:23:13.923-07:00Itera Adventure Race 2022<p><i>So, finally getting round to writing up the Itera race. There's been a whirlwind couple of weeks since then to let things settle and crystallise a bit in my own head, which is probably a good thing! When I've been asked about the race in the intervening weeks, there's been slightly different answers given each time, depending on how the question was phrased, so I'm going to slightly plagiarise a format from an Alan Affleck post about The Heb (which, incidentally, has been part of the whirlwind!):</i></p><p><b>"How was the Itera?"</b></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAzeXuH5CyxzlUvhwlQdA9CXQuteLqruF673jKOhSGYNp2bcCLNelTyGJSuWwIcUmiVs6VfuCM3ac7W_i5nBUe2_CsONgPx1G4f675HFKE52ktrKsg0VaUIMQ-f4GqPBc6gOjXUsR4UH7AlvLXKV88Iu_nTKYLsu5AsBeSbnehgRFmIGqEYpw/s4288/Itera_RT-63.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4288" data-original-width="3216" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAzeXuH5CyxzlUvhwlQdA9CXQuteLqruF673jKOhSGYNp2bcCLNelTyGJSuWwIcUmiVs6VfuCM3ac7W_i5nBUe2_CsONgPx1G4f675HFKE52ktrKsg0VaUIMQ-f4GqPBc6gOjXUsR4UH7AlvLXKV88Iu_nTKYLsu5AsBeSbnehgRFmIGqEYpw/w150-h200/Itera_RT-63.jpg" width="150" /></a></div>Hard, but brilliant. Some absolutely gorgeous moments throughout the whole thing: seeing porpoises and a minke whale on the opening paddle; watching headlights on the hills and valleys around us as we bedded down for a few hours on our first night bivvy; the Via Ferrata up the Grey Mare's Tail at Kinlochleven was an awesome and (for me at least) pretty chilled-out stage; even the long, straightforward road ride from Glenuig to Fort William was enjoyable, working on the front of the team in a paceline, having a good chat with the Nav4 team through the roadworks, stopping at the 24hr petrol station in Fort William at god-knows-what in the morning for coffee, sarnies and ice cream before riding on. Some stuff anyone can appreciate, some stuff that maybe only makes sense if you've been there, I'll admit. <br /><br /><p></p><p><b>"How did the race go?"</b></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7gr3PzNg0Qdy6OHOt7lib-eQBGkctRKyCVRFrxcweAnwaO1FeYgh5Kb25hTP2oiKQWKesAsku00PFeldFPBMgq4Zl7GbphxyxJHhUNQZkWq0Lb61rqHoNd-2FCjA_yV-0cJVhpMkUGQHIE8lIvyS1ImQjq9Cmhfij5AUMiEolIzw4xtR12v0/s3786/Itera_RT-26.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2128" data-original-width="3786" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7gr3PzNg0Qdy6OHOt7lib-eQBGkctRKyCVRFrxcweAnwaO1FeYgh5Kb25hTP2oiKQWKesAsku00PFeldFPBMgq4Zl7GbphxyxJHhUNQZkWq0Lb61rqHoNd-2FCjA_yV-0cJVhpMkUGQHIE8lIvyS1ImQjq9Cmhfij5AUMiEolIzw4xtR12v0/s320/Itera_RT-26.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Pretty well, to be honest. We short-coursed just about everything, but that decision making meant we finished pretty well intact, in 18th place out of 32 starting teams. It's not like we were racing for a specific position though - the term got coined of it being an "activity holiday for adventurous insomniacs". As I said in a really short post afterwards, probably my favourite of our selection of pictures from the race is Ian, Jimmy and Jill sat in Oban YHA after the post-race ceilidh (the highest my heart rate got all week...) with tea, whisky and chocolate HobNobs, because it shows that we finished the whole things still smiling and still talking to each other. For me, and I think for all of us as a team, it was very much about just completing it together and about the journey. <p></p><p><b>"That was a hell of a journey!"</b></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3D4P7ADi8TpIEHelPSTGGckiy9slDzHHFbW01VJALDyz-rWl5KRIZqUVrG0cgk9JArG2_BdZE6xniAb8gZOrTVkxEVfK7yKuHTr20RwboCMFGr_fa_RD3cdBrt1EH7ypile0rzcqod0A53c1RMArc3oz6XUiN494PRWL5qB54SLLueUP4AS8/s3877/Itera_RT-19.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2908" data-original-width="3877" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3D4P7ADi8TpIEHelPSTGGckiy9slDzHHFbW01VJALDyz-rWl5KRIZqUVrG0cgk9JArG2_BdZE6xniAb8gZOrTVkxEVfK7yKuHTr20RwboCMFGr_fa_RD3cdBrt1EH7ypile0rzcqod0A53c1RMArc3oz6XUiN494PRWL5qB54SLLueUP4AS8/s320/Itera_RT-19.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Yep, some great sights, some hard ground to cover to see them - a proper expedition. Seeing Fingal's Cave on Staffa from a kayak was something I'd long hoped to do, but I always imagined it would be on a 'proper' sea kayaking trip, not in a Sit-on-Top during a race. I'm glad the 'Dougalfields' and vertical swamp of Mull came up early as that was some of the toughest terrain we crossed, though the notable exception to that would be<a href="https://www.facebook.com/openadventure/videos/356253503385165/" target="_blank"> the 30 yards of mud at the kayak exit</a> after Castle Tioram... Ahem. While I think everyone on the team would have liked to take in the Ledge Route up onto Ben Nevis stage, seeing the stage times for that and the impact it had on the field, it feels like it was the right decision to short route - while the distance difference was negligible, the route we took has 2,000m less climb. Even just the last off-road bike section over the Bealach Gaoithe ('windy saddle' apparently) was a little bit of joy, even if I was focussed hard on the maps because a misplacement at that late a point in the race would have meant a proper sense of humour failure!<p></p><p><b>"You survived then?!"</b></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOdv6QonOjuB-rrWISpE9Fez0oblgsb1lRhaH4curX_9WjFnywUbWTVeJnyXlBHgs3JlsD2CzRfFXiJC8qbxjfY4kibaa150RrzuURtuIzhiW4YWJju1viX3mhFRwf5ysTv9PKptWwZHBtys5f1ONeaH0i_DxjUyhKoz-OjWoB_XZphW90xvw/s4096/Itera_EW-01.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2731" data-original-width="4096" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOdv6QonOjuB-rrWISpE9Fez0oblgsb1lRhaH4curX_9WjFnywUbWTVeJnyXlBHgs3JlsD2CzRfFXiJC8qbxjfY4kibaa150RrzuURtuIzhiW4YWJju1viX3mhFRwf5ysTv9PKptWwZHBtys5f1ONeaH0i_DxjUyhKoz-OjWoB_XZphW90xvw/s320/Itera_EW-01.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Yeah, I survived. I had some pretty rough patches with indigestion in the middle of it, and I'm not hugely happy with myself for how I responded to that. I'd prepared well for a lot of the physical scenarios that have happened to me on races before - knee problems, knackered feet - but not for spending 48hrs feeling like I was about to throw up or explode, and for my head kind of falling apart with it. The discovery that the tiny village store in Glenuig had a pack of Rennies in stock may have been a minor moment of happiness when I felt pretty miserable, and I'll certainly note those as something to add to my First Aid kit for the future. That said, while that rough patch has coloured how I feel about 'how I did', it doesn't take any of the shine off 'how we did' as a team - because this is not an individual race. Jill, Jimmy and Ian were absolutely fantastic while I was being a grumpy, melodramatic mess, and pulled me through my weak stages so I could contribute more on my strong suit stages. Hopefully I made up for the rubbish bits and didn't mar the race for them. <p></p><p><b>"What were the best bits, then?"</b></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNsRsyUuapOuFcRNUNL2vR-F7Sh3HjqXwz7x7rqt2KBUVPAhDJZ0XAAYmiyo2WSoHg9E8WmvF2veOLrETIsSxManoX_NaGKX140zCwG6seIHnTpKA6H9N_CF8hi16Rwc1bDM9pjntbR4dS_N9lAL0MXo-q2TpMTk7Xwkr8NUzHu46Z7k4rg3s/s4000/Itera_RT-25.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2248" data-original-width="4000" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNsRsyUuapOuFcRNUNL2vR-F7Sh3HjqXwz7x7rqt2KBUVPAhDJZ0XAAYmiyo2WSoHg9E8WmvF2veOLrETIsSxManoX_NaGKX140zCwG6seIHnTpKA6H9N_CF8hi16Rwc1bDM9pjntbR4dS_N9lAL0MXo-q2TpMTk7Xwkr8NUzHu46Z7k4rg3s/s320/Itera_RT-25.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Ooh. There's a lot to choose from: The porpoises and the first night bivvy I've already mentioned; discovering that all of the team are sci-fi/fantasy fans and that <i>"one does not simply walk into Polloch"</i>; stopping on the West Highland Way - both at the Glen Nevis Visitor Centre for coke and Magnums and near Lundavra at a point where people have obviously camped previously to have a quick break and get some food down; bedding down in a cattle pen in Fort William Auction Mart was bizarre and a little chilly but wonderful in its own right. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYK6Zdv9XeXOOy4UDe1TBByvMTPMcdT4A06kXOPcSU9TcCn--oQCOPJA6ClNOrsWIjM0tBUPJCqRfAnt8CTlxKkXcYnpk4TjipAhYY4yQit3tfiaO3k_wr4oWvg9EbSgp1QGUqUF2ARbsKpsGokhEUV_08QwDD8mf1Ss-DSglx13_iq9isrrA/s4000/Itera_RT-17.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2248" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYK6Zdv9XeXOOy4UDe1TBByvMTPMcdT4A06kXOPcSU9TcCn--oQCOPJA6ClNOrsWIjM0tBUPJCqRfAnt8CTlxKkXcYnpk4TjipAhYY4yQit3tfiaO3k_wr4oWvg9EbSgp1QGUqUF2ARbsKpsGokhEUV_08QwDD8mf1Ss-DSglx13_iq9isrrA/s320/Itera_RT-17.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>For me personally though, the best part was the last bike stage, even extended as it was with the cancellation of the kayak finish - I felt vaguely human again, I'd recovered a bit on the Via Ferrata, the climb and descent of the Devil's Staircase was rough but we'd stopped for some sleep, we hit the Kingshouse Hotel for their marginally-expensive-but-completely-worth-it Breakfast Buffet, the WHW ride passed fairly smoothly and Loch Dochard and Glen Kinglass were phenomenal if a touch damp. I'd ridden that section 20 years ago on my first ever bigger AR, the Salomon X-Adventure 36hr in 2002 and remembered the lovely granite slabs and sections of technical riding in the middle of it with a bit of fondness. The orienteering was a great little break - and timed perfectly so we got to the cafe at the Smokery well before it was due to close and ate well again! - Jill and I trotted round the shorter course, having a bit of a chat with two of the Sweco team on the way. The long tarmac ride to the last transition point wasn't the most interesting but it was pretty and we worked well on it (and included a pause to eat the chocolate brownies we'd bought at the Smokery cafe as well. Maybe that was why I enjoyed it, we ate a lot...)<p></p><p><b>"Would you do it again?"</b></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAMRCqU8ts9W2GXLEHFdjkcdwpvVfUJWaeSz856uwTmy1prJ2Owi1zxx-J8MtWmy7W2vnUamaelzybtTmNSiVNN_E6sJUR9UHCMrfejJN-hB_PoFaSMC8CN1LmzGZMRf5lsS21CJ4uzKeBGPBFSn2hQk_kPtulfTYALMiICPTBg1mjW-V2fKo/s4288/Itera_RT-18.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2680" data-original-width="4288" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAMRCqU8ts9W2GXLEHFdjkcdwpvVfUJWaeSz856uwTmy1prJ2Owi1zxx-J8MtWmy7W2vnUamaelzybtTmNSiVNN_E6sJUR9UHCMrfejJN-hB_PoFaSMC8CN1LmzGZMRf5lsS21CJ4uzKeBGPBFSn2hQk_kPtulfTYALMiICPTBg1mjW-V2fKo/s320/Itera_RT-18.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Always going to be a leading question, and never going to be a simple answer: <br />-<i> Did I learn a load of stuff about myself and how I handle things on an Expedition Race?</i> Yes, a massive amount, some good and some bad but all learning.<br />- <i>Are there things I/we could have done better, or at least differently? </i>Yep, certainly. No race is perfect.<br />- <i>Would I race as part of Rebel Talent again? </i>Yes, if they'll have me, though I'd understand if they wouldn't!<br />- <i>Would I race an Expedition AR again?</i> It would depend entirely on the race and the team, but it's likely to be a yes. <p></p><p><b>"So, what's next?"</b></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7Ko0WMlBz8JoQ7vNMHSiGf047OOm7afPmyHmBHnD_yXiMy1bUWw3vX9UA1_HcUDaoWnFFa1Vf4G85CFrGGyDSncLnNfBCix90J9Rydg2mE5O5p9pbMfQt7-QJsn5LgBoz1NZKH4tk2alql5w8ot3FZjgVAD9bzhEGHzTJLePx1iSYeLBDnvw/s4000/Itera_RT-02.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7Ko0WMlBz8JoQ7vNMHSiGf047OOm7afPmyHmBHnD_yXiMy1bUWw3vX9UA1_HcUDaoWnFFa1Vf4G85CFrGGyDSncLnNfBCix90J9Rydg2mE5O5p9pbMfQt7-QJsn5LgBoz1NZKH4tk2alql5w8ot3FZjgVAD9bzhEGHzTJLePx1iSYeLBDnvw/s320/Itera_RT-02.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>I've had a few weeks off, photographed The Heb, spent some time meeting up with old friends, and now I need to get myself in a fit state for the OMM in October. Jill and I are entered in Medium Score, and I think both Ian and Jimmy are as well with different teammates. That will be a couple of long days out as well, but not 109hrs of long...<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><i>Thanks for reading. I have to give huge thanks to James Thurlow, Paul McGreal and Tom Gibbs for creating and organising an amazing event; to all the Open Adventure volunteers and staff for making that event run so smoothly for those of us in the racing seats; to Jill, Jimmy and Ian for being an amazing team to share the journey with; and to Jimmy, Ian and Eddie Winthorpe for pics. </i><div><i>Until next time!</i><p></p><p><br /></p></div>Carrick 'Pyro' Armerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08705410588749063217noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7020678.post-16030347273483646302021-10-13T06:21:00.005-07:002021-10-13T09:11:30.264-07:00Lakes in a Day 2021<div class="separator">So, the history of this one goes back a while - a decade in fact. There's lots of little branches and tributaries that combine into this story, so it might be a bit long and rambling. Grab a brew and some biscuits if you're reading - or even if you're not. Biscuits and a brew is always a good thing.</div><p><i><b>Starting with the oldest bit of backstory: </b></i>Back in 2010 I went from pretty much no running at all, to completing Janathon in January, to upping my distance again in Junathon (in June, surprisingly enough), to running 50 miles with 5,000m of ascent in the Grand Raid des Pyrenees in the August - a pretty momentous change for someone who hadn't really done much running since they knackered an ankle in 2004. I kept it up for a while, but a year of niggling injuries I never got treated and a DNF on a repeat trip to the GRP ended my erswhile Ultra career at 1 out of 2.</p><p><b><i>A bit more recently:</i></b> Sometime in 2018 I started Orienteering again. I've discovered over the years I don't actually like running just for the sake of running, but I love navigation and it takes my mind off how much my legs hurt. After surprisingly winning a long-but-easy-navigation Orange course at a local Saturday event I started doing the Airienteers Autumn and Winter 1hr Score format events and found that, after a while, I was running a decent distance in the hour, and having fun with it. Entered the Northern Night Champs on Ilkley Moor and had a slow but accurate run and decided I probably wasn't as bad at it as I thought, and I was enjoying it again.</p><p><b><i>And even more recent: </i></b>Through the early months of lockdown I even started heading out just for a run at intervals. I'm lucky enough to live somewhere with good access to trails and footpaths across fields, and it took my mind off the drudgery of work and the stress of the pandemic. When the orienteering club started to put 'virtual events' on using the MapRun app I ran a load of those, and found I'd got a bit faster. I'd lost a bit of weight, gained a decent bit of fitness, and started thinking about a few things, one of which was turning 40 later in the year. I don't go in for 'bucket lists', the idea seems a bit wrong to me, but the thought of having another crack at an Ultra started to vaguely appeal - and not seem as stupidly unrealistic as it had 2 years previous when I'd hit 15 stone. I'd worked on Lakes in a Day in 2019, it's my home county, it starts 20mins from where I grew up, it's a darn sight closer than the Pyrenees, and, you know, it just might be worth a punt eh? I mean, what's the alternative, a high powered motorbike and a free ticket to the organ donor register? </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cK0ikq-HXHM/YWV548hZUqI/AAAAAAAADow/5cNnWugX8Ak389xgoJzmd8h1_mwiGjUTQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_20211008_223416656.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cK0ikq-HXHM/YWV548hZUqI/AAAAAAAADow/5cNnWugX8Ak389xgoJzmd8h1_mwiGjUTQCLcBGAsYHQ/w240-h320/IMG_20211008_223416656.jpg" title="Obligatory kit photo" width="240" /></a></div>I decided to put my money where my - surprisingly quiet for once - mouth was, and my entry went in when they briefly re-opened in November '20, after various cancellations and deferrals. That gave me the best part of a year to get prepped - more than the 7 months I'd had from Janathon 2010 to the GRP that August. I got some decent longer runs in, and while I didn't do the same length of long run, I did more back-to-back days - 100km over three days on the Leeds Country Way in March and 75km over the three day of the Great Lakeland 3-Day being the highlights, really. Coming off of the GL3 I was happy, and finishing LIAD started seeming like it was a pretty realistic aim. I'd roughly said that since I did 22:56 for the GRP that 'finishing in the time limit was Bronze, finishing under 22:56 was silver, and finishing in 20 hours was Gold', but that said, weather conditions would always dictate just how that went. <p></p><p></p>Kit choices were very deliberate but only fully locked in the night before the event as I was never 100% sure what the weather was going to do, even if the forecast generally looked pretty good. UD Adventure Pack for all my gear and food, though I'd have switched to a bigger FKT pack if the forecast had been worse and I felt like more kit was needed. Icebreaker merino top (the same one I ran the Pyrenees in all those years ago) because it doesn't chafe and works for me, Montane windproof gilet because merino is very porous in the wind! Runderwear long boxers and OMM Flash shorts, the latter mainly for the two extra stash pockets for map and stuff. Skins calf guards - again, same ones from 10 years ago - to try and help keep my calves in a decent state, Injinj socks to try and do the same for the toes. Spare layers were a Montane fleece and a Haglofs insulated gilet, waterproofs were OMM Kamleika smock and Montane Podium pants, shoes were Inov8 X-Talon Ultras for the first half and TrailTalons for the second. Petzl Nao and backup Actik headlamps, Leki trekking poles, and probably too much food, but that's about it. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iALKgT1pYLU/YWXxDCkIJlI/AAAAAAAADpI/Dy9WaQTF8mkgwLMcyhVCas0x4JA5xSJIQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1440/LIAD%2B0.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="The start - pic: Tom Rumsey" border="0" data-original-height="810" data-original-width="1440" height="180" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iALKgT1pYLU/YWXxDCkIJlI/AAAAAAAADpI/Dy9WaQTF8mkgwLMcyhVCas0x4JA5xSJIQCLcBGAsYHQ/w320-h180/LIAD%2B0.jpg" title="The start - pic: Tom Rumsey" width="320" /></a></div>After registration in Cartmel, a lift up to home from my Dad, a decent night's sleep and an early get-up it was onwards to Caldbeck and readying myself for the off. We parked the north side of the river which is the border of the National Park, so walking up to the start from there made it a full proper end-to-end of the Park, since Cartmel actually sits just outside the southern boundary. It was good to catch up with a few friends before the start, either those working on the event or those running, and a good chat with Paul (working) and John (supporting a mate) started settling my nerves, with paddling mate Ted and Siobhan - the quietly hardcore Manchester GP who finished LIAD 2019 in 22hrs having fractured her knee at the river crossing - stopping by and saying hello on the way. Up into the square by the Oddfellows and accosted by Jeni, Sharon and Emma (on her first ever trip to the Lakes - what a baptism of fire...), and bumping into Ed who I've crossed paths with multiple times but never really spoken to. Nice to see so many friendly faces, and knowing they were around and that I had so many other friends working on the route meant I would never really be 'alone' on this one. I tend to be pretty self-contained on events, it's hard to run or ride with others without one person either having to work harder to keep up or someone else getting annoyed at having to slow down, but that 'self-containment' means I can be my own worst enemy mentally some times. Company does help, I guess.<p></p>We started at bang-on 8am, and I set off with the crowd up the lane from Caldbeck towards Nether Row and Potts Gill. We were soon strung out, and I was back to the mental state of 'not lonely but alone'. Plenty of people around still, but plenty of headspace to focus on the route and keeping myself happy. I upped my pace a little bit when a guy just behind met up with a none-competing friend and they started chatting away about mates in running clubs, gigs, bands they had seen recently and life in general. I needed to get away from that, just because I like the quiet to try and focus: I sure as hell wouldn't ever tell someone they should stop their chat, but it's easier for me if I'm not around it, so I moved forwards a bit to create some space. We were climbing up into the clag and soon the insulation was visual as well as auditory, trotting forwards on a vague trail, just about able to make out the spectres of other runners in front and behind. That poor visibility would become a big theme of the day, all the way to Ambleside and a bit beyond as well.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RWSa0nt2Y2w/YWVmiFq7hbI/AAAAAAAADoU/yNf4BURkDTAMhjZ8c5q50a3moNSyiOCvwCPcBGAYYCw/s2048/IMG_0322.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Climbing High Pike - pic Paul Dobson" border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="213" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RWSa0nt2Y2w/YWVmiFq7hbI/AAAAAAAADoU/yNf4BURkDTAMhjZ8c5q50a3moNSyiOCvwCPcBGAYYCw/w320-h213/IMG_0322.jpg" title="Climbing High Pike - pic Paul Dobson" width="320" /></a></div>Soon enough, High Pike trig pillar was behind me and then Lingy Hut loomed out of the fog, and not long after we were dropping down to the crossing of the Caldew. I worked on that crossing a couple of years ago and was a bit worried that the level would be up - I'm pretty confident in the water, but a spill and wet layers could properly spoil the day. As it was, it was nothing more than knee-deep, and a quick bit of chat with both Jim and Dave as they manned the crossing was a nice pick-up, even if Jim's opening gambit was "Jenkins says you're too slow..." I'll be honest and say I had no concept of the time, I'd put my Garmin watch into a mode that turns the screen off to save power, and hadn't even bothered looking - that may not have been the best thing, but I'll come back to that. Anyway, the long drag from there up to Blencathra summit was a lot softer underfoot than I'd been expecting. It was one of the few bit I didn't know and hadn't recced, and was a bit harder going than I'd been expecting, just soft ground and a long continuous gradient. After what seemed like a long time, we finally hit more solid ground and started the last ramp up onto the summit, and were greeted by the sound of cowbell dragging us the right way. <br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>After a very brief hello to Matt, marshalling on the top as part of the Nav4 safety team, I stuck my poles away and set off down Halls Fell ridge. This bit's fun but sketchy, and I managed to pick decent lines and pass a few other people just by keeping moving and not standing in a queue for a single path when there are multiple available. Some bits are better than others but making decent progress down here was fantastic fun. I had a couple of small slips, one when I caught Jeni and looked round to say something and momentarily took my eyes off the ground, the other on a grassy slope just above where Stu (also Nav4 safety) was marshalling. Fortunately he didn't have to catch me! I kept it right-side up from that point and made it down from summit to feed station in a touch over 40mins, which is about as fast as I'd ever want to try it in 'mildly moist' conditions.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tLnr4a2-f2M/YWX0ydfzhYI/AAAAAAAADpQ/nhDT32nyuc4O2LXm2qT_mvCKIiOPRmp-wCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/LIAD%2B5.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Tarmac trot - pic John Macleod" border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tLnr4a2-f2M/YWX0ydfzhYI/AAAAAAAADpQ/nhDT32nyuc4O2LXm2qT_mvCKIiOPRmp-wCLcBGAsYHQ/w320-h240/LIAD%2B5.jpg" title="Tarmac trot - pic John Macleod" width="320" /></a></div>Mum and Dad had come out to support at Threlkeld and I dived into the feed station, grabbed coffee, pastries and some bits for later on, patched a small hotspot on one heel and said hello to a Jill, two Pauls, a James and a Joe. A check of the time put me up on what I'd wanted - the next section from here to Grisedale Tarn and the 17:30 cutoff there was the pinch point time-wise, and I knew I needed to be ahead of Threlkeld cutoff (13:30) to be able to not rush too much across the tops. I needn't have worried too much, it was only 11:15 so I was well up on schedule, 45mins ahead of what I'd wanted. Jeni appeared and started pushing me to get sorted and leave with them, and while I could maybe have done with a bit more time - and I didn't manage to actually stay with them for long once we were moving - it kept me from sitting too long, wasting time and seizing up. I opted to switch my windproof gilet for my waterproof jacket, knowing we were going to be climbing into the clouds again and staying there for several hours. I'd be warm on the steep drag up Clough Head, but the wind and waterproofing would be very welcome. Steady plodding soon saw me at the trig, and I felt a bit happier knowing that even in the mist, I'd recced the section and was happy with my nav. There were a couple of points I needed to focus on, none of which were massively consequential but would cut out little bits of ascent or descent and could just save some energy. Getting the smaller path that skips Great Dodd summit was the first of those, and I hit it very neatly. Wasn't quite as neat on the more direct right-side path just after Helvellyn trig, but I had more pressing priorities at that point - getting into the summit shelter to pull an extra layer on and some food down (pork pie - ace stuff). I pulled the Haglofs gilet out and stuck it under the waterproof just to separate the damp merino from the equally clammy Kamleika top, and swapped my Headsweats cap for my fleece hat, and those made enough difference for me to feel happy pushing on.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D1ms81hwf4k/YWV6H3B6I1I/AAAAAAAADo8/5HLYjaVQGtkjsYcIWEW9-s_WMFgy8e3MgCPcBGAYYCw/s2048/P1020241.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="High Pike trig" border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D1ms81hwf4k/YWV6H3B6I1I/AAAAAAAADo8/5HLYjaVQGtkjsYcIWEW9-s_WMFgy8e3MgCPcBGAYYCw/w320-h240/P1020241.jpg" title="High Pike trig" width="320" /></a></div>I was soon down off Dollywaggon Pike to Grisedale Tarn and plodding towards the next big haul up Fairfield, right knee starting to twinge a little but still moving steadily. Joe and Paul were sat in a little tent-shelter at Grisedale Hause waiting the cutoff time there to direct any stragglers down off the course to Dunmail Raise and onward transport, and I was glad to be well ahead of that point - 1:30 up on that pinch point was more than enough margin. Fairfield was a drag, but once you're over the top and skirting Hart Crag and Dove Crag the long descent to Ambleside begins. This was another one of those nav points: most of the time there's one main line, but at one point there's a nasty step, nearly head-height, that we'd met and scrambled down in the recce. I knew it was avoidable, there were a couple of route options. My knee wasn't hugely happy with me so I popped some food and a couple of paracetamol down and trekked on, in the company of another gent who was moving at the same pace and seemed happy to have me on the front navigating. We chatted a little bit and he'd not recced the route at all and was just out to enjoy the event. The pair of us hiked together, found a better route down past the bad step (and helped a couple of others down it as well) and then both jogged down the tarmac together from Nook End farm, out into the streets of Ambleside and into the feed station - 30 miles done.<br /><br />Mum and Dad had popped down to Ambleside as well, and it was lovely to see them. I was definitely starting to hurt, and part of me was thinking "I could call it a day here, get them to give me a lift down to Cartmel, pick my car up and be back home and in bed by 9:30", but that's the balance of these kind of events. I know that by continuing I'm committing myself to several more hours of pain, and I know I have nothing to prove to anyone but myself, but that's the whole point of this particular run for me: <i>I have something to prove to myself</i>. That might sound stupid to some people, but to a lot of my friends it will make some kind of sense - I'm not racing for podiums or prizes, I'm racing (in the loosest sense of the word) for personal satisfaction and achievement. So, with another catch-up with Jeni, Emma and Ed and a bit of chivvying I sorted myself out, changed shoes, shoved a few slices of pizza and some pasta down my neck, grabbed my headlamp out and got ready to get moving again. Just as we were about to leave, the gent I'd been alongside since Fairfield wandered over and said "Are you getting ready to go?" and joined the party. <br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4hCb1ZM3Dtc/YWVm_M4vi0I/AAAAAAAADoc/B_h6fnn5E1UcrPLuM53IkU6CHm3-vHn1QCPcBGAYYCw/s2048/Halls%2B-%2BJK.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Down Halls Fell - pic James Kirby" border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="213" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4hCb1ZM3Dtc/YWVm_M4vi0I/AAAAAAAADoc/B_h6fnn5E1UcrPLuM53IkU6CHm3-vHn1QCPcBGAYYCw/w320-h213/Halls%2B-%2BJK.jpg" title="Down Halls Fell - pic James Kirby" width="320" /></a></div>As we made our way across Rothay Park it occurred to me that I should probably ask my new running mate's name - Ian, as it turns out. It wasn't long before the other three were specks off in the distance, so he and I trotted along, the odd bit of conversation, the odd bit of jogging, but mainly just decent, steady forward progress. I'd recced this section with Steve as well, though in daylight, so was pretty happy that between signage and knowledge we'd be alright through here. Pull Woods was a nice section of trail, but the cloud was still very much down and even once we came out of the woods by Wise Een and Moss Eccles tarns, you couldn't see a lot even with a decent headtorch - across the grassy sections with no reference markers, it was just keep trotting and looking for the worn line on the ground. We passed a young lad somewhere along the way who tacked on the back, but was struggling with stomach issues and wasn't managing to keep food down - it's a long 21km to Finsthwaite if you can't put any food in. He jogged with us for a few minutes, but then dropped off the back to retch into the bushes again. <br /><br />We trotted onwards, seeing other runners intermittently and were soon at Sawrey, Another gent joined us who was having knee problems and well and was struggling on the descents - he stayed with us a while but dropped back as we started descending on tarmac to the first section of lake shore path, I'd been wondering about the levels - could have been anything from ankle to knee, but fortunately the worst we hit was mid-shin puddles and the majority was relatively clear. Out onto tarmac again and a nice treat, some trail pixies had left a little treat out, a tin of Haribo and some bits of cake on a lit-up table by the road. We paused and grabbed a little bit of sugar and then settled in for the tough road climb up to the next section of trail. We were both using trekking poles quite heavily, and as we started winching up the gradient, the click of the poles on the tarmac slowed. Ian commented on this, and my first thought was "yup, either the metronome is f**ked or I am...", but I think I kept it to myself. <div><br /></div><div><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LDCwJyJdQCQ/YWWRT8J9kwI/AAAAAAAADpE/D0zvpERptS47MUU_0F5o7ip5xho28RPWQCPcBGAYYCw/s2048/P1020251.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img alt="Helvellyn trig, blurred by rain" border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LDCwJyJdQCQ/YWWRT8J9kwI/AAAAAAAADpE/D0zvpERptS47MUU_0F5o7ip5xho28RPWQCPcBGAYYCw/w240-h320/P1020251.jpg" title="Helvellyn trig, blurred by rain" width="240" /></a>The next section of singletrack was tough, overgrown and a steep descent, and my knees and quads were starting to properly object to the way they were being treated. I popped another couple of paracetamol and kept plodding. The next section of lake shore path has an awkward tree that needs a high step to get over it, and that definitely made me wince, though the shin-deep water preceding it at least kept my ankles nice and cool. I knew once we were out to Lakeside YMCA camp, the climb up to High Dam was going to be a painful grind and the descent to Finsthwaite feed station probably not much better, but I also knew that once I was there, finishing was almost a certainty. We weren't fast, but we were also going to arrive nearly 2hrs ahead of that final cutoff time, and the last section - while still not a walk in the park - could easily be just a steady walk.<br /><br />We arrived at the feed station to see Jeni, Emma and Ed getting ready to leave, and that picked me up a bit too - not that we'd caught them time-wise, but that they were still well on track too. Jim gave me some friendly abuse, Hilary quoted Peter Pan at me ("Second star to the right, and straight on 'til morning" - seemed very apposite at that point), and the other lovely feed station staff provided leek and potato soup and cheese on toast to dip into it. Again, knowing I was ahead of time it could have been easy to dither, but having company kept me right. As it was, looking at my GPS data, none of my feed station stops were longer than 15mins, and I think that's a good thing. <br /><br />We headed out into the last section, an unknown for both of us. Only 12km, but still not going to be easy, and actually the very first descent to Newby Bridge was a steep and slightly slippy narrow woodland track that tested the last of the resolve in my quads. I was leaning heavily on my poles and wincing if my foot placement was wobbly, the jerky motion spiking off pain in my knees. We made it out on the tarmac alongside two young lads who were also having a hard time of it , reaching "that point where things just stop working", as one of them commented. Over the main road and climbing again, first on road and then onto grassy footpaths crossing fields. Out onto road again and into the Bigland Hall estate, terrain I orienteered on plenty of times as a kid but haven't visited in years. through the estate and round the edge of Bigland Tarn, pausing for a sec to marvel at how bright the stars were now that the cloud had lifted, the electric lights had receded and I could actually see the sky!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mr1rOkIDES0/YWX1hdxHYTI/AAAAAAAADpY/iDkdeYRndkAQCNXG0_9FNudZ8PLfJ1g3QCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/LIAD%2B7.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Ambleside in a gap in the cloud" border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="213" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mr1rOkIDES0/YWX1hdxHYTI/AAAAAAAADpY/iDkdeYRndkAQCNXG0_9FNudZ8PLfJ1g3QCLcBGAsYHQ/w320-h213/LIAD%2B7.jpg" title="Ambleside in a gap in the cloud" width="320" /></a></div>One more road crossing, a couple more km of fields and we were finally at Speel Bank, and the final tarmac run down to Cartmel - except neither of us were running. We hiked steadily, a couple of more enthusiastic/able pairs passing us, but we trotted on down a seemingly endless road descent, coming into the village past the Race Course where our cars were parked, cheered onwards by the marshal at the gate with a "well done, only a few hundred metres left!". I think I replied with a slightly petulant "but my sleeping bag's <i>right there</i>..." and a grin. We kept going through the sleeping village, with an occasional "well done" from other competitors heading back to the campsite, and finally into the school yard, headlamps off and stopping directly under the finish arch so we could pose properly for our finish photo. Finish time: 19:02 - an hour up on my 'Gold' time despite the knee problems, and nearly four hours up on my decade-old 50 mile PB. Not too shabby, even if I do say so myself...</div><div><br />So what can I conclude from all of this?<br /><b>1 -</b> I <b><i>am </i></b>still capable of these things, stupid as they might be. Stubborn enough, at least.</div><div><b>2 - </b>Company helps, the right company even more so - I can't thank Ian enough for helping keep me right though we actually didn't chat that much, and Jeni, Emma and Ed's chivvying at feed stations helped keep me on track. That and seeing so many good friends from so many events over the years meant I genuinely never did feel alone, even on the occasions when I was. </div><div><b>3 -</b> On the downside, I probably didn't drink as much as I should have done, nor eat as much. Having the screen off on my watch meant I couldn't check to eat each hour like I normally do, and I lost track of time easily. That probably lead to my one little medical issue... Ahem.<br /><br />After the finish, while sitting down with my finishers meal, I got a sudden wave of nausea (not linked to the catering, I hasten to add), and with a desire not to throw up on Ian's shoes, I made an attempt at a quick dash to be sick in a bin, only to pass out, fall short and hit the deck. I came round with Charlotte, the event doctor, greeting me with "Oh, it's only you" which is (genuinely) the type of sarcasm I appreciate when I feel like hell. I pointed out I was quite comfortable down here on the floor, but she still looked bemused and a little concerned, so after a little chat I was escorted inside to sort my life out, get some fluids and some food down while being monitored, then bound to a 'no passing out in the showers' rule while getting myself warmed back up and into clean clothes. I felt better after all of those, and eventually made my slow, shuffling way back to the campsite to gratefully pass out in a slightly-but-not-much-more dignified manner in the car for a short few hours.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yuDL73NDY5k/YWbaDToj9pI/AAAAAAAADpo/tOLIttK5HrMO_Is_mLow2sxT3Vis-xuBACPcBGAYYCw/s1757/LIAD%2BFinish-3.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Finished! - pic: Anthony Harvey" border="0" data-original-height="1171" data-original-width="1757" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yuDL73NDY5k/YWbaDToj9pI/AAAAAAAADpo/tOLIttK5HrMO_Is_mLow2sxT3Vis-xuBACPcBGAYYCw/w640-h426/LIAD%2BFinish-3.jpg" title="Finished! - pic: Anthony Harvey" width="640" /></a></div><br />So that's it - I'm up to 2 out of 3 (ain't bad, as Meatloaf would put it). Massive thanks to everyone from Open Adventure, all the volunteers and safety staff, all the marshals and medics, all the cheering spectators and all the other runners for a lovely if somewhat long day out.<br /><br />Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed the biscuits. See you out there sometime!<div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZkVJZwIt0ow/YWX3F1zyVnI/AAAAAAAADpg/EYIIL8MfKAYmye0CPzOtOw10FU-Ris6cgCLcBGAsYHQ/s716/LIAD%2BSplits.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="716" data-original-width="540" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZkVJZwIt0ow/YWX3F1zyVnI/AAAAAAAADpg/EYIIL8MfKAYmye0CPzOtOw10FU-Ris6cgCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/LIAD%2BSplits.jpg" width="241" /></a></div><br /></div>Carrick 'Pyro' Armerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08705410588749063217noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7020678.post-26932995187806041702021-03-27T06:56:00.001-07:002021-03-27T06:56:27.814-07:00Leeds Country Way 3-Day<p>I normally only blog about events, but there's been precious few of those happening in the past years, so I guess I have to make my own entertainment! I've spent the last three days running/walking/jogging/shuffling the <a href="https://www.leeds.gov.uk/leisure/parks-and-countryside/public-rights-of-way/the-leeds-country-way" target="_blank">Leeds Country Way</a>, a just-shy-of-100km lap round the outskirts of the city. This was supposed to be a shake-down for the Great Lakeland 3 Day on the May bank holiday weekend, but it's been postponed until August, so really it was just a way of using up some leave days and seeing how I coped with three solid days on my feet - no rushing, no racing, no major stress, just a way of getting out and about for a while. While the 'stay local' fit was maybe a bit tenuous, I can at least say I didn't leave the city!</p>
<p><b>Day 1 - Golden Acre to Woodlesford - 37km, 6:23</b><br /><i><a href="https://connect.garmin.com/modern/activity/6484859223">https://connect.garmin.com/modern/activity/6484859223</a></i></p>
<p></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-grOqjN1X-MY/YF8vtVHjOtI/AAAAAAAADis/FRVN_onXlFseeePtXl4oD2O92En86RkvwCPcBGAYYCw/s1600/LCW-3.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-grOqjN1X-MY/YF8vtVHjOtI/AAAAAAAADis/FRVN_onXlFseeePtXl4oD2O92En86RkvwCPcBGAYYCw/s320/LCW-3.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Harewood House</i></td></tr></tbody></table>Mainly known trails, through Harewood and across the fields to Bardsey, ticking off the roads I was crossing as I meandered around the north and east sides of the city. Stopped in a little sheltered patch of sunshine for some food and to air my feet out - I'd had some blisters on one foot recently and was keeping an eye on them carefully. Crossing the A64 and trotting down into Barwick-in-Elmet to the maypole where you'd finish Day 1 if you were doing a 4-day split of the route, grabbing a coffee and a top-up of water and juice from the village shop. A little bit of 'new to me' path and then back onto known ground across Barnbow woods, over the motorway, into Garforth and down the Lines Way (old railway) for a little while. Horrible stinking section of gravel track past Brecks farm - I'm assuming they were either spreading or stirring the slurry pits - then past Swillington and a little sit at a picnic site where it seems the local entertainment is shooting airguns at signs. Another gentle trot along the roadside then lanes round the edge of St Aidan's nature reserve to finish just outside Woodlesford. Stop the watch, shamble up to the station and get the train back home.<p></p>
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<p><b>Day 2 - Woodlesford to Morley, 29km, 6:11<br /></b><i><a href="https://connect.garmin.com/modern/activity/6490596967">https://connect.garmin.com/modern/activity/6490596967</a></i></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LUbm9y0EAFI/YF8vqDHsoPI/AAAAAAAADis/Xmzt3Q_uo-cRwMqhW4SD43yYPNSvi5ccwCPcBGAYYCw/s1600/LCW-13.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LUbm9y0EAFI/YF8vqDHsoPI/AAAAAAAADis/Xmzt3Q_uo-cRwMqhW4SD43yYPNSvi5ccwCPcBGAYYCw/s1600/LCW-13.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="1600" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LUbm9y0EAFI/YF8vqDHsoPI/AAAAAAAADis/Xmzt3Q_uo-cRwMqhW4SD43yYPNSvi5ccwCPcBGAYYCw/s320/LCW-13.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Remains of Howley Hall</i></td></tr></tbody></table></div>A less pleasant day. Some nice sections of trail, but poor signage, blistered feet and the ever-pervasive hum of the motorways - you never really get out of earshot of the traffic through this section and it's a constant reminder that while you're outside, you're not completely away from it all. Aiming for Morley but with a couple of other get-outs marked on the map just in case it was all going south - it never totally did, but I wasted a lot of time having a quiet word with myself at far too regular intervals. Really, really poor signage: sometimes utterly non-existent at intersections, sometimes there's places where the LCW shares paths with other trails - Trans-Pennine, Kirklees Way - and there isn't even a sticker or disk to indicate the shared trail. A lot of feeling rubbish but actually making steady progress, a stop for lunch and to sort my feet out near Thorpe on the Hill (and my one trig pillar of the three days) - and to put headphones on to get away from the drone of the motorway traffic. A fairly uninspiring trudge round West Ardsley reservoir before some much more inspiring running past the remains of Howley Hall and through Cliff Wood to Howden Clough road and a short shamble to my finish line for the day. Stop the timer and shuffle the couple of km to Morley station - not the best.<p></p><p><br /></p><p><b>Day 3 - Morley to Golden Acre 31km, 5:28</b><br /><i><a href="https://connect.garmin.com/modern/activity/6496146900">https://connect.garmin.com/modern/activity/6496146900</a></i></p><p></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2oz3h5zeO5g/YF8vreDz3UI/AAAAAAAADi4/h_2lIKpHf-A3h7TIs3ZyLZJPYzplN0BygCPcBGAYYCw/s1600/LCW-17.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2oz3h5zeO5g/YF8vreDz3UI/AAAAAAAADi4/h_2lIKpHf-A3h7TIs3ZyLZJPYzplN0BygCPcBGAYYCw/s320/LCW-17.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Cockers Dale</i></td></tr></tbody></table>With the feet sorted a bit more definitively - took the decision to lance and tape the blisters in the morning, and should probably have done so sooner - and a later set-off time to wait out the early rain and a much better day. An urban trudge to begin with gave way to the nicest sections of trail of the week, through Cockers Dale and then up Pudsey Beck, following the meandering stream through the woods in peace and quiet and sunshine, past little gravel beaches, pools and sections of water that as a kid I would have loved to play in, build dams in, sit and splash in, that kind of stuff. Across the railway at Duckett's Crossing and into Thornbury on the Leeds-Bradford road, a quick dive into McColls to grab snacks and a top up of water and juice and over the road to sit at the sunny edge of a cricket pitch for lunch. Another fairly pleasant 6km or so round Calverley golf course and onwards to Apperley Bridge and back into 'known ground' with 10km left to go. A steady trot along the river bank to Cragg Wood and then starting the horrible climb back out of the valley. A small rainbow greets me at the top of Hunger Hills as I message the other half with "I can see the 'ouse from 'ere!" - shame I have to run the best part of 5km past it. Past Trinity uni, down and across the fields I've been running regularly for a year now, across Moseley Beck and the little snotbag of a climb up from it, round the cricket pitch, across the road and into Pinfold Lane and the final mile of very well known trail, down to the tunnel to stop the clock: <b>LCW completed over 3 days: 97km, total time 18hrs 2mins.</b><p></p>
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<tr><td><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aJUrTjJjpfo/YF8vsIOPsHI/AAAAAAAADik/1BF9EANcd1cTg0APfcaImuKd60Io42YswCPcBGAYYCw/s1600/LCW-2.jpg" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aJUrTjJjpfo/YF8vsIOPsHI/AAAAAAAADik/1BF9EANcd1cTg0APfcaImuKd60Io42YswCPcBGAYYCw/s320/LCW-2.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Start ...</i></td></tr></tbody></table></td><td><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_psNc76TflE/YF8vpa0DYBI/AAAAAAAADik/AYFaPoQBeVs05TOfXvpIbBYOo0YshM0zACPcBGAYYCw/s1600/LCW-10.jpg" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_psNc76TflE/YF8vpa0DYBI/AAAAAAAADik/AYFaPoQBeVs05TOfXvpIbBYOo0YshM0zACPcBGAYYCw/s320/LCW-10.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>... middle ...</i></td></tr></tbody></table></td><td><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vvEZ1YVvu5E/YF82_CXT6MI/AAAAAAAADjA/8QBiDJ3u9isUFLVvusENPrtytjj_XD8BACPcBGAYYCw/s1600/LCW-47.jpg" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vvEZ1YVvu5E/YF82_CXT6MI/AAAAAAAADjA/8QBiDJ3u9isUFLVvusENPrtytjj_XD8BACPcBGAYYCw/s320/LCW-47.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>... end!</i></td></tr></tbody></table></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br /><div><br /></div><div>
Overall, pretty happy with how it went, as a shakedown and kit test. Niggles with my feet, sore ankles and some shuffling round of equipment, but all in all a lovely and relatively successful three days out on foot exploring and playing, which was pretty much what I needed it to be! Splitting over 4 days would have made for less foot pain I think, but was harder for public transport - car shuttle wasn't really an option and using trains made for easier access than buses. It all worked out alright in the end though.<div><br /><br /></div></div>Carrick 'Pyro' Armerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08705410588749063217noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7020678.post-7199916822856191562020-02-10T09:04:00.000-08:002020-02-11T04:51:38.585-08:00Misadventure Racing - Open5 Cracoe24hrs 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 <i>"respectable distances, travelled a bit slow, didn't score many points"</i>, 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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-i-Y4nRUQdvg/XkGJ9AOUvsI/AAAAAAAADUw/HQqeR9BPxM4z1qFrk77Uyzg11J-8tMlNgCEwYBhgL/s1600/84950932_10163008821805503_6834229180612214784_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-i-Y4nRUQdvg/XkGJ9AOUvsI/AAAAAAAADUw/HQqeR9BPxM4z1qFrk77Uyzg11J-8tMlNgCEwYBhgL/s320/84950932_10163008821805503_6834229180612214784_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In the briefing, not paying attention. Pic: James Kirby</td></tr>
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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 <i>"Why are we doing this again?!"</i> - the type of chat that is always couched jokingly but has that edge to it of <i>"No, genuinely: Why are we doing this?"</i>. I've never managed to get to the bottom of that one, even just for why <b><i>I</i></b> do these things.<br />
<br />
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 <a href="http://pyrosyard.blogspot.com/2018/04/misadventure-racing-open5-grassington.html">Grassington race</a> 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. <i>"It's about 20mins direct by road"</i> was a phrase that had popped up in a pre-event email, in some eerily rubbish foreshadowing, but I'll come back to that...<br />
<br />
We faffed. Well, I'll rephrase that, <b><i>I</i></b> 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...<br />
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<i><b>Bike #1: 16.32km / 239m ascent / 1:47:53</b></i><br />
<i><a href="https://connect.garmin.com/modern/activity/4532586400">https://connect.garmin.com/modern/activity/4532586400</a></i><br />
<br />
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.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8euxE7YY5HQ/XkGJ76k6ufI/AAAAAAAADVE/qXwHVijHgcU6gidUXSxRMXiVdDA5SnK3ACEwYBhgL/s1600/84771316_10163008837640503_7562044245419229184_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8euxE7YY5HQ/XkGJ76k6ufI/AAAAAAAADVE/qXwHVijHgcU6gidUXSxRMXiVdDA5SnK3ACEwYBhgL/s320/84771316_10163008837640503_7562044245419229184_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not us, but the section where I came off. Pic: James Kirby</td></tr>
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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!<br />
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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...<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-x9f7Fy6fR40/XkGJ97scuNI/AAAAAAAADVM/tQj6GxAPDaIjLzT6wCOuaB66aivzl7xpwCEwYBhgL/s1600/86171034_10163008843890503_5732153521785012224_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-x9f7Fy6fR40/XkGJ97scuNI/AAAAAAAADVM/tQj6GxAPDaIjLzT6wCOuaB66aivzl7xpwCEwYBhgL/s320/86171034_10163008843890503_5732153521785012224_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Around the gate at Malham Cove. Pic: John Bamber</td></tr>
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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 <b>shoes </b>on as well - evidently not quite with it.<br />
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<i><b>Run: 4.79km / 143m ascent / 0:49:49</b></i><br />
<i><a href="https://connect.garmin.com/modern/activity/4531448513">https://connect.garmin.com/modern/activity/4531448513</a></i><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pChHM0NjWzM/XkGJ8-87H0I/AAAAAAAADVI/-W7UpKLbQAU-mxz7JXgMnerisDOe-05vQCEwYBhgL/s1600/84947513_10163008844010503_2525069440060489728_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pChHM0NjWzM/XkGJ8-87H0I/AAAAAAAADVI/-W7UpKLbQAU-mxz7JXgMnerisDOe-05vQCEwYBhgL/s320/84947513_10163008844010503_2525069440060489728_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Down from the cove, still smiling! Pic: John Bamber</td></tr>
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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!<br />
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<i><b>Bike #2: 19.39km / 337m ascent / 2:09:38</b></i><br />
<i><a href="https://connect.garmin.com/modern/activity/4532586426">https://connect.garmin.com/modern/activity/4532586426</a></i><br />
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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. <i>"Erm, Carrick? Can we try a bit further upstream?"</i> 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.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-330nfKn_iMg/XkGJ9JVAS7I/AAAAAAAADVI/s6THNhKpBqczGzFWYGLQbZ5YoyGpFmf0ACEwYBhgL/s1600/84990610_560549507883541_578185460845641728_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="1200" height="213" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-330nfKn_iMg/XkGJ9JVAS7I/AAAAAAAADVI/s6THNhKpBqczGzFWYGLQbZ5YoyGpFmf0ACEwYBhgL/s320/84990610_560549507883541_578185460845641728_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Roman Camp in the sun! Pic: Eddie Winthorpe</td></tr>
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ji57aajdfEM/XkGJ7tel5bI/AAAAAAAADU8/bAx6aDf87BgtbsfE2ZS4wCeND1t27x2_gCEwYBhgL/s1600/84394205_10163008850735503_7224524622715158528_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ji57aajdfEM/XkGJ7tel5bI/AAAAAAAADU8/bAx6aDf87BgtbsfE2ZS4wCeND1t27x2_gCEwYBhgL/s320/84394205_10163008850735503_7224524622715158528_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Finished and knackered. Pic: James Kirby</td></tr>
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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 <i>"see what lies he's told you..."</i> 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 <i>"My god, look at that!"</i> 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.<br />
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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 <a href="https://www.openadventure.com/">Open Adventure</a> for putting on the event - challenging day for the staff as much as the participants, so huge thanks.<br />
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<br />Carrick 'Pyro' Armerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08705410588749063217noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7020678.post-3384281913277809042019-02-12T11:32:00.001-08:002019-02-12T13:13:32.773-08:00Misadventure Racing - Open5 Burneside<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tWhnjegS1QQ/XGMYjQm6c_I/AAAAAAAADOM/yu-kT0Ne8T4FOqC49vx8s1sWpFGSKDLiACEwYBhgL/s1600/52259266_10161402724005503_4798909209137643520_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tWhnjegS1QQ/XGMYjQm6c_I/AAAAAAAADOM/yu-kT0Ne8T4FOqC49vx8s1sWpFGSKDLiACEwYBhgL/s320/52259266_10161402724005503_4798909209137643520_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(Pic: James Kirby)</td></tr>
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Picture, if you will, the scene: It's a Monday morning in February. I'm at the day job, out at a Health Centre somewhere in the greater Leeds area looking, at the IT kit with a group of other people. We need to look at the server and network room, which is in the basement. I wince and make a few small 'erk' noises as I creak down and up the stairs. "You injured yourself?" someone asks, kindly. "No, just a bit sore from the weekend, I was racing." There's a short pause. "Oh yeah, what kind of race?". Oh dear...<br />
<br />
...That's where it starts: Trying to explain that I was doing a 5 hour Adventure Race. Trying to explain what Adventure Racing is. Trying to explain that, in the grand scheme of Adventure Racing, 5 hours is a short race. Trying to explain that, no, it wasn't a special thing for charity, I do these things just for fun. If they haven't glazed over before this point, it's definitely imminent. I'm never sure whether "I was doing a 5 hour race" translates in the layman's mind to 'my god, this man's an endurance legend!' or 'jeez, that's a below-average marathon time!', though I'd suspect my physique points them more firmly towards the latter. Anyhow.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TIHuuBnAzuk/XGMYjXMoHNI/AAAAAAAADN8/x_tfDKSd5LoDqrPAct5a0Jr5IEDw1c7NQCEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_3660.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1067" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TIHuuBnAzuk/XGMYjXMoHNI/AAAAAAAADN8/x_tfDKSd5LoDqrPAct5a0Jr5IEDw1c7NQCEwYBhgL/s320/IMG_3660.JPG" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(Pic: Rob Howard / SleepMonsters.com)</td></tr>
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Rewind 24+ hours and I'm up in the south Lakes, lining up to start this year's Open5 race. Yes, just the one. James and the lovely team at Open Adventure had opted to only put on a single Open5 this year, which is both terrible and wonderful: Terrible that there aren't more of them, of course, as they're great races and invariably a fun day out, though quite often that's been Type 2 fun; Wonderful that at least I don't have to try and come up with excuses for why I'm slow in several races this winter rather than just one. The one race was based out of Burneside near Kendal, relatively home territory for me, or at least ancestral territory. James had announced that the registration was at the Bryce Institute building, but the start was around 3 miles away, which immediately prompted searching in that radius for other likely start locations. I came up with two: either westwards over to Crook and towards Windermere and Whitbarrow, or northbound up to Staveley and into Kentmere and Sleddale. The latter seemed more likely, a better mix of laneways, bridleways and footpaths, and turned out to be the correct answer, which made me both happy and anxious. Happy because I know the area roughly, anxious because... well, I know the area roughly, and I know there's some hard riding - the Garburn Pass, for a start.<br />
<br />
I'd had a nice chilled out day on the Saturday before the race: A leisurely brunch with the other half, a steady drive up to the Lakes, a quick stop at Wilfs for a cuppa, a dip into Wheelbase to pick up some last minute spares. Oh, and driving into Staveley spotting the yellow event arrows confirming where the transition area was. Sorry James, I wasn't deliberately peeking, honest. Then a quick trip down the road to Prizet to relatively luxury, a hotel for the night! The Travelodge made a lovely change from a Youth Hostel room, and afforded a rare opportunity for a catch-up with Rob, the bossman from SleepMonsters. A good chat, a pint and a pizza plus a good night's sleep and we were all good to go and in fact, would be in a rare position: with another SleepMonsters editor, Adam Rose, racing as well we'd have 3 SleepMonsters in the same location at the same time! That in itself is rare, the fact two of them were racing is even rarer.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IzyIudwzqDA/XGMYkqgN4OI/AAAAAAAADOM/lYAae559AEYno8M2AVZAUFeDRvGw7a7zwCEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_4031.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IzyIudwzqDA/XGMYkqgN4OI/AAAAAAAADOM/lYAae559AEYno8M2AVZAUFeDRvGw7a7zwCEwYBhgL/s320/IMG_4031.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">3 SleepMonsters! Adam, Rob, Pyro (pic: Mick Kenyon)</td></tr>
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Registered and browsing the maps I realised I was right to be both happy and anxious. There was lots of good riding up onto both sides of the valley and yes, there was a CP up on top of Garburn. There'd been some snow the week before the event which had melted in, coupled with a storm that blew through on the Friday and Saturday, so the ground was going to be wet under both foot and wheel - the upper reaches of the Kent looked like I should have brought my kayak. There were the usual ponderings about how long to commit to bike for/run for, which to go for first, whether to commit to the furthest CPs and loops. Bike-wise I'd decided I was fairly settled on a plan, run-wise there was a good cluster of half-a-dozen CPs relatively close to home that looked like a good start but extending off beyond them would take some commitment. I always like to play to my strengths so biked first to give myself the best chance I can with them.<br />
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<b>MTB - 37.35km, 665m ascent, 2:51:00</b> - <a href="https://connect.garmin.com/modern/activity/3372564638">https://connect.garmin.com/modern/activity/3372564638</a><br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qktLt4XkX-k/XGMYkMTsImI/AAAAAAAADOE/NtsNGjDWx_oxa_v0Sz0zp5OmWVAN4lkEgCEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_3694.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1068" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qktLt4XkX-k/XGMYkMTsImI/AAAAAAAADOE/NtsNGjDWx_oxa_v0Sz0zp5OmWVAN4lkEgCEwYBhgL/s320/IMG_3694.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On the go! Pic: Rob Howard/SleepMonsters.com</td></tr>
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The early going was steep but steady, I climbed gradually up the road and dog-legged back for a high point CP that I'd bypassed before climbing gradually along the gravel track and bridleway to the east side of Kentmere, across Staveley Head and towards Green Quarter. A brief decision, to out-and-back to CP17 towards Skeggles Water (no) or just continue to 16 on the ruin and move on from there (yes). From 16 another decision - drop down to 19 near Sadgill to have to climb back over the pass, or descend round Rasp Howe into Kentmere and head up the valley road to pick up 13. The thought of descending only to have to push over the pass to Stile End wasn't inviting, and sticking to the decent tracks and roads won out, and I dropped down to Kentmere and climbed somewhat more pleasantly on tarmac. I'd long decided that I wasn't going for the Garburn CP - only being worth five points cemented it - and one other CP looked like it could be a boggy slog for not much bonus, so after picking up CP9 above Kentmere and pushing hard down the road I stuck to decent tracks and tarmac lanes to loop round to Ings. Turning right off the main road to climb past Mislet brought back memories of slogging that way, much more broken, on a Man of Porage race a few years ago while headed for Ambleside: today's loop would be nicer but shorter, up the gravel track past Dubbs reservoir, the looping back round above Limefitt Park, past the pair who'd snakebite punctured on a rain bar that I just managed to bunnyhop, then back onto the road to descend and push hard all the way back to Staveley and transition.<br />
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Transition was alright, speed-wise. 18th overall out of 135 solos and pairs in 3:58, though probably half of that was getting wet bike shoes off and dry running shoes on. Elastic speed laces are great, but tricky when your fingers are cold and you can't feel your toes. We got there eventually, and trotted out with a comfortable two hours available for the run.<br />
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<b>Run - 11.58km, 181m ascent, 1:52:09</b> - <a href="https://connect.garmin.com/modern/activity/3372060173">https://connect.garmin.com/modern/activity/3372060173</a><br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cuVWpU4DHF8/XGMYkWJGcyI/AAAAAAAADOI/9A13pdHTIXEnfd51h2Uw-BKOEDGvZTIAQCEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_3695.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1068" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cuVWpU4DHF8/XGMYkWJGcyI/AAAAAAAADOI/9A13pdHTIXEnfd51h2Uw-BKOEDGvZTIAQCEwYBhgL/s320/IMG_3695.JPG" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Still on a bike. Pic: Rob Howard</td></tr>
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I've been doing more running recently, something I always say I need to work on in the midst of these events. My local orienteering club has had a Night Score League going on over the winter, and I've made three of the five events, all 1hr Score format events on a Wednesday evening. With steady pace and decent nav I've been managing a steady hour reasonably well, so I was hoping that would stand me in good stead and I'd be marginally happier. What I forget is that my Wednesday night one hour run doesn't come after three hours of pushing reasonably hard on a bike. I trotted out of transition, up the road, over the bridge, and started walking steadily up the hill with both calves and thighs giving me gyp. I'd had a fairly noble aim of pushing for more than just the five nearest CPs, but started to realise that that wasn't going to be much of an option, as the path through the woodland round Piked Howe was slippy, technical and not overly runnable, and the fields above were slippy and sodden as you climbed. Despite the decent grip of the X-Talons, I was still sliding a lot, so trotted steadily. Alternating jog and walk as I felt one knee twinging intermittently, and I dibbed the last CP in the loop, in a six-stemmed tree down near Scroggs Farm, ready to head back to base a little bit disappointed with myself. Looking at my watch, I realised I had over 40 minutes left on the clock, and the indecision started again. There was one more easily accessible CP, along the main road towards Ings again. Not huge points, but a relatively flat out-and-back of about 4km total. I upped the walking pace, watching the pace reading on my watch - sub 9mins/km. I jogged a wee bit and checked again - a touch over 7mins/km. Hmmm. Right, decision made: Even feeling crap, a good steady walking pace would see me out to that CP and back inside time. It wasn't pretty, at all. I probably looked positively geriatric, glutes and hamstrings twanging, calves cramping, tabbing along at a modest clip, but I got there and turned back for home with 25+ mins left. Again, jog-walk-jog-walk-jog-walk until I was back in Staveley and trying for something akin to a sprint finish. Stuart Smith passed me in his van, and I'd love to say I drafted him but I'd be lying. Across the line to stop the clock, slump to the ground, change back into soggy bike shoes and get ready to ride the extra 3 miles back to the car and a large portion of Nav4 Chilli from Joe. Oh, the joys.<br />
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So, I ended up finishing in 4:50:15, 405 points, putting me 29th out of 59 male solos - perfectly mid-pack, which I can cope with. I even had my name pulled out of a prize draw hat at the prizegiving to win myself a nice new Haglofs windshell jacket. In the battle of the SleepMonsters, Adam beat me by five points and four places. He'd had a longer run than me first, but a slightly shorter bike. Would I have done anything different? Probably not. I could have picked up CP17 or 19 on the bike if the ground had been drier, but then would likely have missed the last CP on the run, so not sure it would have made much difference. While I'm glad I pushed for that last run CP, I would like to have got a little more out of the run leg in general - there were one or two CPs I could have added on but thought I'd have been more pushed for time, maybe I should have continued shuffling and tried to get them in.<br />
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Next up is - well, not another Open5 for this season! I've bravely or foolishly entered for the Northern Night Orienteering Championship on Ilkley Moor this coming weekend, so that's what I have to try and get my legs back into some semblance of shape for this week. After that, the Nav4 Daffy Run in March, which I'll definitely need my legs to be in some kind of shape for. All good fun and games, at least.<br />
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Cheers!<br />
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PyroCarrick 'Pyro' Armerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08705410588749063217noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7020678.post-27734520609334757842018-09-12T11:41:00.000-07:002019-02-12T11:34:52.590-08:00On Islands<i>For reference before I start, the general point of this blog is one particular race trip, and this is a rambling personal missive, not a race report as such. Consider yourself forewarned.</i><br />
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I've had a hectic few weeks, between the 9-to-5 and travelling to races, though that's not unusual. In amongst all of that was a long weekend out in the Western Isles, and I guess this is vaguely a short story about that trip. It's always hard to know where to start these kind of blogs: okay, this is just a blog about a specific event, but the history of that event and my relationship with that event go back a lot further than just the weekend itself. Anyway, I'll add lots of pics to make this a nice photo story and hopefully draw your eyes away from some of the drivel for a second or two...<br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NTgm5vqm5S0/W5lIUTP6KsI/AAAAAAAADKU/nhpU_Bl_2pESJPO2UBP0O3l54g7x_960wCEwYBhgL/s1600/TheHeb18-5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 0em; margin-right: 0em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1069" data-original-width="1600" height="199" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NTgm5vqm5S0/W5lIUTP6KsI/AAAAAAAADKU/nhpU_Bl_2pESJPO2UBP0O3l54g7x_960wCEwYBhgL/s320/TheHeb18-5.jpg" width="300" /></a></td><td><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fErNN6z5NhQ/W5lIVlfuFhI/AAAAAAAADLE/mWwL1PRAfQQRig0XD6F9C50yti-s9WLDwCEwYBhgL/s1600/TheHeb18-9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 0em; margin-left: 0em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1069" data-original-width="1600" height="199" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fErNN6z5NhQ/W5lIVlfuFhI/AAAAAAAADLE/mWwL1PRAfQQRig0XD6F9C50yti-s9WLDwCEwYBhgL/s320/TheHeb18-9.jpg" width="300" /></a></td><td><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-podHzjxrWg4/W5lITxjKMPI/AAAAAAAADLA/xP--Em2XkxIk2BufbNcZGhbzVYfA955PgCEwYBhgL/s1600/TheHeb18-37.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 0em; margin-right: 0em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1069" data-original-width="1600" height="199" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-podHzjxrWg4/W5lITxjKMPI/AAAAAAAADLA/xP--Em2XkxIk2BufbNcZGhbzVYfA955PgCEwYBhgL/s320/TheHeb18-37.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
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So, once again, I was honoured to head out to the Outer Hebrides to shoot for organisers <a href="https://www.durtyevents.com/">Durty Events</a> at The Heb, a two day, 200km Adventure Race up in the Uists and Benbecula. The quick summary of that trip could be <i>"had an awesome time, took some pictures, met some ace people, loved it"</i>, but that doesn't even scratch the surface of how I feel about the race and the place, which is more the point of this blog. The <a href="https://www.sleepmonsters.com/races.php?article_id=10331">race report </a>is up at SleepMonsters anyway - head over there if you want to hear the story of the race itself.<br />
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I first travelled to the Outer Hebrides in 1998 having just finished my A-levels, backpacking up the islands for a month with two of my best friends. It wasn't always the easiest trip, physically or mentally, but it's one that's stuck with me for many years and for many reasons. Not long after I got involved in Adventure Racing, met a bunch of people up in Scotland for a training weekend and ended up at the current race's predecessor, the Hebridean Challenge, in 2003. I was again blown away by the place, and made some new friends there who are still very good mates to this day, and mostly still racing in one form or another. One of them, Nonie, roped me in to race at the Hebridean Challenge in 2004 <i>(blogged <a href="http://mountainriver.blogspot.com/2004/07/hebridean-challenge-2004.html">here</a> - re-reading that now makes me a bit emotional!).</i> I marshalled at it again in '05, raced again with Team Eat Cake in '06, and mixed marshalling, photographing and writing about it for SleepMonsters in '07 and '08, which turned out to be the last race under the Hebridean Challenge banner.<br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WLyDveDHsS8/W5lIR79YTLI/AAAAAAAADKw/01MF7ZYliv4j9H16D72_6OOslJ241ljfQCEwYBhgL/s1600/TheHeb18-15.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 0em; margin-right: 0em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="199" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WLyDveDHsS8/W5lIR79YTLI/AAAAAAAADKw/01MF7ZYliv4j9H16D72_6OOslJ241ljfQCEwYBhgL/s320/TheHeb18-15.jpg" width="300" /></a>
</td><td><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PR5x1bquKiU/W5lITAZ3ybI/AAAAAAAADK0/z4vk7QuG_oA_AN0sBnlXvC2vTEd0vD2pgCEwYBhgL/s1600/TheHeb18-21.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 0em; margin-left: 0em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="199" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PR5x1bquKiU/W5lITAZ3ybI/AAAAAAAADK0/z4vk7QuG_oA_AN0sBnlXvC2vTEd0vD2pgCEwYBhgL/s320/TheHeb18-21.jpg" width="300" /></a>
</td><td><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7JOZTstQKJE/W50j1SwL6vI/AAAAAAAADMs/0thtr6IuiKkFruk6eGPQnMY6N4WtJgzQwCLcBGAs/s1600/TheHeb18-8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 0em; margin-right: 0em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1069" data-original-width="1600" height="199" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7JOZTstQKJE/W50j1SwL6vI/AAAAAAAADMs/0thtr6IuiKkFruk6eGPQnMY6N4WtJgzQwCLcBGAs/s320/TheHeb18-8.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
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The old race takes some explaining: 750km, 5 days, teams of 5 is the headline figure, but again that doesn't scratch the surface of the logistical complexities. A mix of running, road biking, mountain biking, swimming and kayaking, relay style but with concurrent stages (ie, a run, a bike and a paddle starting and ending at the same points, next stage couldn't leave until all three incoming competitors arrived), bonuses for multiple people doing certain stages, handovers on tarmac only and tweaks like towing bikes/skates/scooters in to distant road-ends for outgoing runners to use boggle the mind. Never mind the logistics of getting five people, four bikes and a sea kayak into a single vehicle and out to the Islands themselves. Anyway, after the last Hebridean Challenge, I missed some intervening years of the Nav4 B2B adventure event, but headed back to the islands in some form or another regularly, evidently caught up in some kind of a minor love affair with the place. Then, some time in 2014 or 2015 I heard rumblings about a new race in the Hebrides. Paul McGreal, who I first met and loosely raced against back in 2004 when he was part of H4 (Hebridean Hash House Harriers), was planning a new race, a long weekend rather than a week, that involved no large vehicles and no additional qualifications: Leave the car at Mallaig, get the ferry out as a foot passenger, get bussed to the start, ride, run and paddle 200km over two days, then get the ferry home again. A great simplification, more accessible and manageable, and yet also a big enough challenge to make the journey worthwhile. The inaugural <a href="https://www.durtyevents.com/event/the-heb/">'The Heb'</a> race launched in 2016, and Paul very kindly invited me to photograph it. Because of (or maybe in spite of) all of the potted history above, I couldn't possibly refuse.<br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EH8dnb_lQjY/W5lIUufIaJI/AAAAAAAADLI/FczUd1Ng008mrrpX6Ivh3yPDI7viIyEWQCEwYBhgL/s1600/TheHeb18-54.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 0em; margin-right: 0em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1069" data-original-width="1600" height="199" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EH8dnb_lQjY/W5lIUufIaJI/AAAAAAAADLI/FczUd1Ng008mrrpX6Ivh3yPDI7viIyEWQCEwYBhgL/s320/TheHeb18-54.jpg" width="300" /></a>
</td><td><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ij05qXBjFsE/W5lIU4mIrMI/AAAAAAAADLA/kji-wKMANz0enJGUiRZjTHmkXODVNhlvwCEwYBhgL/s1600/TheHeb18-57.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 0em; margin-right: 0em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="199" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ij05qXBjFsE/W5lIU4mIrMI/AAAAAAAADLA/kji-wKMANz0enJGUiRZjTHmkXODVNhlvwCEwYBhgL/s320/TheHeb18-57.jpg" width="300" /></a>
</td><td><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ow0kC_bxwsk/W5lIVBLctLI/AAAAAAAADLA/uhx85crbpJETyzrZVd8FaEEmo4Jxe_DlACEwYBhgL/s1600/TheHeb18-68.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 0em; margin-right: 0em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="199" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ow0kC_bxwsk/W5lIVBLctLI/AAAAAAAADLA/uhx85crbpJETyzrZVd8FaEEmo4Jxe_DlACEwYBhgL/s320/TheHeb18-68.jpg" width="300" /></a>
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It's hard to put a finger on what pulls me back up to the Hebrides each year, especially since we rarely get consistently good weather - all three years of the race so far have had one good day and one not-so-good day. When the weather does blow up, there's precious little shelter and precious little respite, especially as a racer out on a bike or on foot - okay, it's a little better for me driving around taking pictures. But the weather adds something else, and that's a sense of community: the racers have to work together to beat it, have to tow each other along the beaches for physical support and huddle together and talk to each other for emotional support. The 'everyone meets up, travels together, camps together, eats together' ethos means people look after each other. Someone this year phrased it as something like "arriving as competitors and leaving as friends", and that's a pretty perfect description. I remember as a racer being told to 'get on the back' and draft a potential podium contender on a bike stage at the old race - I was no threat to his lead and evidently looked like I needed the help. The same happened this year, three podium contenders worked together to help each other out into a brutal headwind down the beaches to Orasaigh, shaking hands and splitting up after the hill CP, having put aside racing each other temporarily for the sake of all of them getting through the stage relatively unscathed.<br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_Cj-tPSjMZ0/W5lIVu98_pI/AAAAAAAADK8/v6NKYvw8pFwas7sq-cW3DNO2oZEuXm72gCEwYBhgL/s1600/TheHeb18-80.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 0em; margin-right: 0em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="199" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_Cj-tPSjMZ0/W5lIVu98_pI/AAAAAAAADK8/v6NKYvw8pFwas7sq-cW3DNO2oZEuXm72gCEwYBhgL/s320/TheHeb18-80.jpg" width="300" /></a>
</td><td><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_lmiGoNSXXM/W5lIQDOP-FI/AAAAAAAADLA/OmMceWC5DpsRNJRHaxJYHj462t04A7bQwCEwYBhgL/s1600/TheHeb18-109.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 0em; margin-right: 0em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1069" data-original-width="1600" height="199" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_lmiGoNSXXM/W5lIQDOP-FI/AAAAAAAADLA/OmMceWC5DpsRNJRHaxJYHj462t04A7bQwCEwYBhgL/s320/TheHeb18-109.jpg" width="300" /></a>
</td><td><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ywbjFzF3y1I/W5lITtcKCiI/AAAAAAAADLA/Xb-8kHX6z9ghFhqaesVVSqJBwZFsLGeygCEwYBhgL/s1600/TheHeb18-29.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 0em; margin-right: 0em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1069" data-original-width="1600" height="199" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ywbjFzF3y1I/W5lITtcKCiI/AAAAAAAADLA/Xb-8kHX6z9ghFhqaesVVSqJBwZFsLGeygCEwYBhgL/s320/TheHeb18-29.jpg" width="300" /></a>
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The other thing that's always appealed about the races up there is the tactical side and the ethos that everyone can do as much or as little as they're able and still feel challenged. I remember Jon Brooke, when he was RD of the Hebridean Challenge, sitting with a novice team and talking them through their plans for day two, after they'd utterly flattened themselves on day one, trying to nail everything and running way, way over time. The same exists in the new race: you can pick your battles and people did, avoiding extra run CPs, avoiding the most technical sections of biking - the Hebridean Way sectors are tricky and slippy in places. Play to your strengths to succeed, and work out in advance (or change on the fly) what your measure of 'success' is: compete or complete. For a minority of people success means first place, everything else is failure. For a handful of others, success is a podium position. For some it's clearing the course. For the majority, just crossing the line is a win. That and working out how to Strip the Willow at the Polochar Inn after the race...<br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GJIMuxW5Lz0/W5lIQc6DE6I/AAAAAAAADLI/DzbkIIzoLp0IQrB2qWT48gMHzp4fcPvTgCEwYBhgL/s1600/TheHeb18-118.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 0em; margin-right: 0em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1069" data-original-width="1600" height="199" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GJIMuxW5Lz0/W5lIQc6DE6I/AAAAAAAADLI/DzbkIIzoLp0IQrB2qWT48gMHzp4fcPvTgCEwYBhgL/s320/TheHeb18-118.jpg" width="300" /></a>
</td><td><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_0ODHW3zoUw/W5lISMutKYI/AAAAAAAADLI/Zqkj490WPpUr7qf2pZ5Cna57pxIfJd6sQCEwYBhgL/s1600/TheHeb18-156.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 0em; margin-right: 0em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1069" data-original-width="1600" height="199" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_0ODHW3zoUw/W5lISMutKYI/AAAAAAAADLI/Zqkj490WPpUr7qf2pZ5Cna57pxIfJd6sQCEwYBhgL/s320/TheHeb18-156.jpg" width="300" /></a>
</td><td><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sDKrp5pth5Y/W5lIRN7MBiI/AAAAAAAADLE/k7BecZWG-LUdUD9SrI0d3eNigWT24IHbgCEwYBhgL/s1600/TheHeb18-123.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 0em; margin-right: 0em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1069" data-original-width="1600" height="199" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sDKrp5pth5Y/W5lIRN7MBiI/AAAAAAAADLE/k7BecZWG-LUdUD9SrI0d3eNigWT24IHbgCEwYBhgL/s320/TheHeb18-123.jpg" width="300" /></a>
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Most of all, though, what I think I love is the landscape. It's hard to describe as to a lot of people it's cold, open, bleak, exposed - especially when the weather is headed south. But that's the same as anywhere, and when the weather is good it's simply stunning. The whole place is wild, weatherbeaten, exposed, as you'd expect for a place bearing the full brunt of the north Atlantic. The Uists are a tricolour: the white beaches - usually deserted - the green strip of inhabited and loosely cultivated land in the middle, the red-purple heather of the hills behind. Harris and Lewis are a little more muted, higher, rockier, more grey and mountainous, but with brilliant flashes of white beach in between - Seilebost, Riof, Bostadh. It's all bordered by blue, at least on a good day; more grey on a bad one, with that narrow line we call the horizon a very, very long way away. The Heb is subtitled 'race on the edge' and it's true: make a right turn while riding south down the beaches of South Uist and the next land you'd hit would be the coast of Newfoundland and Labrador. I've never been there, but I reckon that's probably similarly wild, exposed and windswept.<br />
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</td><td><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PBOJWHnlv2I/W5lIPwyE3HI/AAAAAAAADKw/xVM0WKAoh-4CrXnIQMnSgKPW4XKlFY9lACEwYBhgL/s1600/TheHeb18-103.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 0em; margin-right: 0em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1069" data-original-width="1600" height="199" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PBOJWHnlv2I/W5lIPwyE3HI/AAAAAAAADKw/xVM0WKAoh-4CrXnIQMnSgKPW4XKlFY9lACEwYBhgL/s320/TheHeb18-103.jpg" width="300" /></a>
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<tr><td><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cjUK9q_Lhxw/W5lISrTXOHI/AAAAAAAADK8/CUgnsVUTKtMxlg6Ew81jBVvI-Zq8pKFkgCEwYBhgL/s1600/TheHeb18-187.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 0em; margin-right: 0em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1069" data-original-width="1600" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cjUK9q_Lhxw/W5lISrTXOHI/AAAAAAAADK8/CUgnsVUTKtMxlg6Ew81jBVvI-Zq8pKFkgCEwYBhgL/s1600/TheHeb18-187.jpg" width="300" /></a>
</td><td><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qB3Nm6P4PwM/W5lIS-y1J3I/AAAAAAAADK4/Ra_veYkBG0sURcLa2xdK1k5G_TgdrHUwACEwYBhgL/s1600/TheHeb18-205.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 0em; margin-right: 0em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1069" data-original-width="1600" height="199" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qB3Nm6P4PwM/W5lIS-y1J3I/AAAAAAAADK4/Ra_veYkBG0sURcLa2xdK1k5G_TgdrHUwACEwYBhgL/s320/TheHeb18-205.jpg" width="300" /></a>
</td><td><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TDe63oynQo8/W5lITU6nGyI/AAAAAAAADK4/lf1Rq0WYipck3gCO_eVD2-ZudXdWFdJfQCEwYBhgL/s1600/TheHeb18-217.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 0em; margin-right: 0em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1069" data-original-width="1600" height="199" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TDe63oynQo8/W5lITU6nGyI/AAAAAAAADK4/lf1Rq0WYipck3gCO_eVD2-ZudXdWFdJfQCEwYBhgL/s320/TheHeb18-217.jpg" width="300" /></a>
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Anyway, wrapping up this little sermon: If you've never been to the Hebrides, you should go sometime. I can ramble on about the place, but hey, I'm biased. Get a ferry out, see what you think, immerse yourself, be wild and windswept yourself, enjoy the views yourself. Maybe next year's Heb race? If so, I'll see you there. I'll be the slightly weathered looking beardy one with a pair of cameras and a faint grin.</div>
Carrick 'Pyro' Armerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08705410588749063217noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7020678.post-8999846542380629582018-04-25T11:26:00.001-07:002018-04-25T11:26:46.570-07:00The Dirty ReiverThe <a href="https://www.dirtyreiver.co.uk/">Dirty Reiver</a> is an event that's been on my radar since its first edition a couple of years ago. A big gravelly day out around Kielder Forest, it's had the kind of reviews that kind of appealed, in a slightly masochistic way, to my sense of humour. That said, I wasn't sure of whether I'd be capable of the 200km it entails - finishing was uncertain, and the weather turned out to be rubbish that year. I held off the first year, and vowed to enter the second.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PD4a-kATUug/WuBO18bWCWI/AAAAAAAADDM/EPPMOVzk5AsU0B_q_yyP8hqvIMfGOu3hgCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_20180420_101615870_HDR-01.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PD4a-kATUug/WuBO18bWCWI/AAAAAAAADDM/EPPMOVzk5AsU0B_q_yyP8hqvIMfGOu3hgCLcBGAs/s320/IMG_20180420_101615870_HDR-01.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cotic X: Ready to roll</td></tr>
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2017 came up and in went my entry to the newly announced 'Dirty 130', a two-thirds(ish) version of the Reiver, for those like myself who didn't want to commit to the 200. All well and good, with the late '16/early '17 riding going well until the <a href="http://pyrosyard.blogspot.co.uk/2017/02/misadventure-racing-kielder-cross.html">Kielder Cross</a>, my shakedown and fitness check event: that itself went well enough, but the weeks after were plagued with hip and lower back problems that despite stretching, physio, exercises etc, stopped me getting in any decent training rides from February through until April. With no chance of being able to get the fitness back in time, I emailed in to cancel my entry. No refund available because of the late notice, but the offer of a deferral to 2018 and, yeah, why the hell not. The rest of 2017 got a bit better, and I got a lot of the niggles squared out and dealt with, so as soon as entry for the 2018 Dirty Reiver opened, I emailed in and took up that deferred spot. The 130 seemed like the best option, a long day but maybe more within reach than 200km when it's still fairly early in the season. Winter was rubbish for training, but I've had some better rides and results in the Open5 Series, some good longer rides, especially over Easter, road riding with friends in the Lakes. I was still thinking of the 130km as a challenge (ie. Something where finishing isn't a certainty), as 130km would still be, I think, the longest single off-road ride I've ever done. But, my fitness was about right, my mindset was about right, and I reckoned it would be a good day out on the bike one way or another.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Registration mugshot. Pic: <a href="https://www.facebook.com/EnduraOfficial/">Endura</a></td></tr>
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I took the Friday off work to get everything finalised, though I'd been gradually sorting gear out for a fortnight or more. Mandatory kit was simple but maybe bulky: small first aid kit, waterproof, lights, phone, water and food. A partial frame bag went on the bike that took the essentials and some extra mechanical spares. The weather turned from it's winter coat to beaming sunshine a few days before the event so the 3/4 Roubaix bibs got canned off my kit list and lighter shorts got added on. Feed bag full of sweeties on the top tube, small rucksack with a hydration bladder and a few other bits, saddle bag with tubes and multitool. I packed the camping kit and headed up to Kielder, stopping at Hexham for a cuppa and a sarnie on the way, in glorious sunshine and deep contemplation. I rolled up to Kielder Castle and registered, enjoying the day, the atmosphere and the fact that events like this are a small, strange, interlinked little world. With little else to do except pitch my camp and mooch around the Gravel Expo I got chatting with Andy and Bryan from organisers <a href="https://focal.events/">Focal Events</a> <i>(old acquaintances from the Porage events)</i> and Stephen from <a href="http://www.4playcycles.co.uk/">4Play Cycles</a> in Cockermouth (who's worked on Rivers Ride), and then bumped into event photographer Andy H, who's also a Porageer. Word gets around, it seems. The Expo made for a nice little gazeboed village outside the castle, with a few offers and incentives to visit the sponsors and the Nomad Bar teepee to keep us refreshed while we were doing it - local First & Last Brewery supplying the ales. A bit of pottering, tent set up, kit checked and faffed with for the Nth time, a beer or two and it was time for an early bed.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I am not a number...</td></tr>
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The alarm went off at 6am and I was already awake, others on the campsite being obviously earlier risers than me. It was a chilly, dewy start to the day, the campsite being pretty well shaded by trees first thing. Kettle on, porridge pot made up, coffee pot brewed and on with the biking gear; bibs and baselayer, knee and arm warmers, jersey, gilet and windproof, picking up helmet, Buff, gloves and glasses from the car as I headed to the Castle to line up. I'd thrown a bit of change in my gilet pocket to try and get another hot drink before the off, but never got the time as I was queuing for the toilets for too long!<br />
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With the best part of 1,000 riders to get across a two or three rider width gateway, there was a decent queue starting, even at 7am on the dot for a 7:30 start. Knowing I was in for a steady, conservative day I lined up near the back, chatted to a couple of riders around me and tried to shake some life into cold fingers under thin summer gloves. I hadn't realised yet that this wouldn't be the only time I cursed my gloves that day, but all I wanted here was slightly thicker ones. I started my Garmin as the start was sounded, but it took a good five minutes to make our way to the gate, hence the discrepancy between the Garmin time and my chip time for the day. We rolled out, down the hill from the castle, along the road for a short while before turning into the forest and onto the first gravel climb of the day.<br />
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The first 24km loop of the ride put a couple of things into nice positive focus for me. I was spinning away steadily, plodding along as I do, there were no really steep climbs, just long grinds on fairly decent gravel surfaces, and I was making time up on loads of people! Two reasons mainly: 1) so many people were puncturing, on both climbs and descents, and 2) so many groups of riders faff like crazy at the top of a hill. The first I'd seen before, on the Kielder Cross; whether it's wrong tyre pressures, losing comfort by having them too hard, dropping pressure for comfort but then flatting on rougher sections, it seemed to be unending. I was running 40c Nanos, tubeless, at 35-40psi and didn't have an issue all day, so that was a bonus. The amount of faff from some of the groups around me was amazing though, maybe only to those of us who predominantly ride solo, but it was eye-opening. At the top of every climb, there'd be a group of 5, maybe 10, maybe 20 riders pulled up, some eating, some repairing punctures, some drinking, some off weeing in the trees. I to-ed and fro-ed all day with one group of riders, whose club I won't name, who could have been a pile faster than me if they'd stopped less, they certainly always passed me at a good pace, only for me to overtake them again at the top of the next hill.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nR0U7jNXpow/WuCiAhLZZzI/AAAAAAAADEQ/5bTtkrDdYvcUmwhfGEZJ8N3kEBpkxCx0QCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_20180421_124928769_HDR-01.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nR0U7jNXpow/WuCiAhLZZzI/AAAAAAAADEQ/5bTtkrDdYvcUmwhfGEZJ8N3kEBpkxCx0QCLcBGAs/s320/IMG_20180421_124928769_HDR-01.jpeg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mamba country: Miles and miles of bugger all.</td></tr>
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The first proper rough descent also vindicated one of my kit decisions. The mandatory list said ‘ability to carry 1.5 litres of water’ so I’d opted for one 750ml bottle and a litre reservoir in my pack. As the trail turned downwards and the surface went south with it, the potential for loss increased exponentially. The first instance especially, but all of the more technical descent sections were littered with ejected bottles, dropped food, bounced bananas and slipped energy gels. One section of trail even appeared to have sprouted several wild Pepperami plants...<br />
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I managed to keep hold of all my food and stuck with my gameplan to eat something small every half hour. We dropped out of the forest towards the first cutoff point, at Cranecleugh outdoor centre at 24km, and I glanced at the clock to see how far up on the cutoff times I was - over an hour, as it turned out. No problems, just another climb back into the forest, steady away, spinning the cranks. The roll over to the first Feed Station at 60km was more of the same: Long climb, steady flat, rolling descent, warm air, bright sun. Eat. Drink. Be relatively cheerful if not totally merry. We soon dropped out of the woods for a short tarmac out-and-back to the Feed Station, the marshal at the junction wielding a guitar and serenading us with a bit of Tom Petty as we went past - a burst of Free Fallin’ that raised a smile or two. The musical philosophy continued at the feed stop itself, with The Beatles ‘Within You and Without You’ filling the air serenely as I and a few others stretched tight legs and aching backs on the grass, refilled bottles, munched on some lovely Lemon Drizzle cake and chatted. I ditched the gilet and the arm warmers as the temperature was getting up quite nicely, from 4°c at the start up to 20°c there at Stonehaugh. The knee warmers stayed on - I’d had a couple of niggles with my left knee in the run-up to the event, and the coverage was more psychological than anything. I was an hour and a half ahead of the cutoff here, the only one that would really impact the 130km riders, and feeling pretty damn good, so after a quick word with both Stephen the mechanic and Sarah - another events regular - I was off again.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IOF8YV5ZKb8/WuBO6-FgsWI/AAAAAAAADEA/VlobInfC4lkd8GofmE4rW3VhLyQK1-p1ACEwYBhgL/s1600/untitled-708.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1143" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IOF8YV5ZKb8/WuBO6-FgsWI/AAAAAAAADEA/VlobInfC4lkd8GofmE4rW3VhLyQK1-p1ACEwYBhgL/s320/untitled-708.jpg" width="228" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Decend! Pic: Stephen Smith <a href="http://www.facebook.com/PhotographybyStephenSmith/">@steph3nsmith</a></td></tr>
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The rollout from the feed was pleasant tarmac, and a bit shaded, so nice to clip along at a decent rate. We turned right and the gradient rose gradually, with the whole kilometre of climb visible ahead. The young lady on the mountain bike next to me told me being able to see the whole climb was making her want to cry, which seemed a little odd. As before, nothing was steep, just long and steady, and I distanced her a little as she stopped at one point, hopefully not to actually <b><i>have</i></b> a cry. She passed me again somewhere along the way, in good form, but had a bit of hesitation when we made it to the ford and I rolled past her again while she deliberated walking or riding. I rode through, staying left as the marshal suggested, and crossed absolutely fine. To be honest, it was nice to cool my feet down in the river a bit, in hindsight I should have taken a minute and splashed in full body. I’d still have been dry within minutes.<br />
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From the next high point came the next longer, rougher descent. Myself and another gent on a gravel bike dropped in at the same time, me having great fun on slightly bigger tubeless tyres, him admitting he was running sealant-filled Slime tubes and they'd worked so far. Chat got interrupted by some of the roughest sections, and I passed the marshal and photographer at the bottom of the hill looking somewhat, shall we say, <i>focussed</i>. As you can see from the pic, my apparently standard angry race face was out in force - thanks Stephen for capturing that one. Truth is, my hands were taking a beating, and my gloves weren't helping. Whether they'd stretched and slipped, whether something was loose, I don't know, but whatever part of the bars I used, I was starting to get hot spots between my thumbs and my index fingers, probably right on the edge of the glove padding. That positioning meant they were sore when I was riding on the hoods and just as bad when I was down on the drops and braking. Just what you need on the rough stuff.<br />
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We caught another pair of riders at the bottom of the hill, two friends who'd ridden last year's 130 and were on for the 200 this time out, both on shiny titanium gravel bikes but both taking the mickey out of each others budgetary choices - there's a bit of cost variation between a Salsa Ti Fargo and a Sonder Ti Camino (The former costs pretty much double the latter, for those not in the know), but both looked great and their owners seemed happy with them. The four of us rolled on on the tarmac and farm lanes, passed a happy marshal telling us it was only 5km to the next feed station. We all wondered if he was lying, but it turned out not, and the only thing between us and the 96km feed stop was one more gradual tarmac rise. Hmmm.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Feed station 2: Bliss.</td></tr>
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I'm not going to say the wheels came off at this point, but I started feeling lightheaded. I'd been eating regularly, so it wasn't that, but with the heat I suspected I hadn't been drinking enough, despite the bottle-and-reservoir plan. I finished the bottle off, took a long pull from the reservoir, and remounted to plod on, knowing I could get some respite and rehydrate in a couple of kilometres, not realising that the mercury had hit 27°c - I just knew it was damn warm and I was feeling it! Fortunately, the feed stop was at the bottom of a rolling descent, and I pulled in, dropped the bike and went straight for the water butts. I'd brought both Tailwind powder (energy drink) and Zero (electrolyte) tablets with me, so I made my mind up to have a full bottle of electrolyte before I left the feed stop. That didn't take long, so I had a second just in case, then refilled with Tailwind for the last 30km. We'd been able to leave a drop bag to pick up here, and I'd stashed a couple of samosas in mine, the spicy savoury making a nice change from the sweet stuff I'd been munching all day. I ditched my baselayer into my pack, likewise my knee warmers. Feeling a chunk better having thrown some liquid down, I pulled on my mp3 player as well and churned off out of camp.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Passport control at the top of Kershope Burn</td></tr>
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The next hour and a half was pretty painful. Firstly, the steeper rise out of the feed station and a couple of shorter ramps, though a bit of the Afro Celt Sound System in my ears kept me tapping along with a decent steady rhythm. Secondly the next descent, on rough forest road, newly and badly patched, with the gloves chafing my hands to the point where I stopped, threw them in my pockets and rode bare-handed to try and ease them a little. Dropping out into sunlight from a dense block of woodland, I saw the U-turn point that marked the start of the Border climb - 7.5km up the Kershope Burn with 200m of continuous, gradual ascent. I'd heard about this, though I'd never ridden it before. I trotted on, though the surface was just rough enough to make settling into a rhythm nigh-on impossible. A handful of riders to-ed and fro-ed with each other all the way along, each pausing to eat, drink, wee, have a quiet word with ourselves etc. Half an hour of true grind later the border crossing appeared, the picnic table, bridge and signs that mark the boundary between Newcastleton and Kielder forests. I stopped, dismounted, took a couple of pictures and stuck my head and hands in the stream. The valley was sheltered and windless, but like a moderate, rough, lumpy oven to ride up. I wasn't the only one suffering a bit though, so after a short break four of us left the temporary idyll and crossed the bridge to head for home.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-t7i_7cncn8o/WuC90yzPucI/AAAAAAAADFA/rmrLEHRYAqkhaqktBqCs083rM7Sk98CkACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_20180421_160429695_HDR-01.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-t7i_7cncn8o/WuC90yzPucI/AAAAAAAADFA/rmrLEHRYAqkhaqktBqCs083rM7Sk98CkACLcBGAs/s320/IMG_20180421_160429695_HDR-01.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"130k Finisher". That's the important part.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
There was a cruel jab first though, one more short rise, probably the steepest thing we'd ridden all day. Well, I say 'ridden'. The guy at the front of our little bunch stopped to walk up it and the other three decided that that was a convenient enough excuse to do the same. At the top, we remounted and realised it was down down down from here. An arms race began, who could get up into the big ring and get cranking first, and we all did. Shooting down towards Akenshawburn there was a short gravelly rise, a group of us pedalling furiously, determined not to get off. We were greeted at the top by two figures: Bananaman and a Chicken. Hmmm...<br />
<br />
This was the 200/130km split point, and these two unsavoury characters were our encouragement. Dropping to 130km? Chicken. Heading out for the big kahuna? Hero, have a banana. I chuckled, grinned, high-fived the chicken and spun off towards home, spirits lifted by a bit of daftness. Down Akenshaw Burn and into Lewisburn, back towards the arced Lewisburn Bridge and onto the Lakeside way, relishing the down and the flat. Soon, we were alongside the lake and the Bakethin Weir track, then the North Tyne and definitely homeward bound. An unfamiliar section appeared, and I realise we were headed across the road past Butteryhaugh and the next pop out onto tarmac would mean the final short climb to the castle and the finish. I'd passed a couple of riders on the trail, and myself and two others were in a short, fast train headed for home. We hit the tarmac, and turned right and left, with a good number of spectators near the Anglers Arms and lining the grass up the hill, cheering us and everyone else in. The other two stood up to climb, I stayed sat, upped my cadence and passed them both, slightly to my surprise. A sharp right turn at the top and into the driveway, past the timing point to stop the clock at 8:21:21. I turned and clapped the other two in, gratefully accepted my finisher's beer, badge and Tunnocks Teacake and slumped off into the grass to have a nice long sit down in the shade.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-L7AKPJhk9mQ/WuC903dHdeI/AAAAAAAADFQ/G39ZqSqSuU0tthR1e7bEAEw6x0GmE6s6QCEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_20180420_205559631_HDR-01.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="239" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-L7AKPJhk9mQ/WuC903dHdeI/AAAAAAAADFQ/G39ZqSqSuU0tthR1e7bEAEw6x0GmE6s6QCEwYBhgL/s320/IMG_20180420_205559631_HDR-01.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They had beer and pies. Win.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The hard work done - and well under the 10hrs I'd been preparing myself for - the rest of the evening was a laugh. I loped back to the campsite after a veggie chilli and a cuppa, and decided to go chill my legs in the river, since I hadn't at the ford. 15mins of sitting and splashing and I felt pretty invigorated. I grabbed a shower, got changed, chugged another bottle of electrolyte and wandered back up to the castle to cheer riders in and grab a drink. The guys at the Nomad Bar were pulling the pints of Reiver ale, and it seemed rude not to. A couple of those, a couple of rhubarb and ginger G&Ts and a good chinwag and I was a slightly tipsy but very happy individual. I chatted with the Focal Events team for a while, grabbed a steak pie to try and soak some of the gin up. Andy H and I made a rough plan to meet down at the Anglers Arms once him and his mate had eaten, and I sauntered down around 9pm to grab a pint and sit outside. By 9:15pm I was halfway down that pint and also half asleep in it, so decided I'd finish it and go put my head down, and catch up with Andy another time. Turns out, they'd both dozed off after dinner as well, so both sides missed each other! I turned in for the night and slept like a log, save for the half hour listening to the drumming of the rain, the crash of thunder and watching the bright flashy lightning going off directly over my tent at about 2am. Interesting way to cap a long day off, definitely...<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UCnq4KySJgg/WuC91KuAaEI/AAAAAAAADFU/7lVEppk3hRYD-txWRpNqVIGoVPD-6MfvwCEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_20180421_204502121-01.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UCnq4KySJgg/WuC91KuAaEI/AAAAAAAADFU/7lVEppk3hRYD-txWRpNqVIGoVPD-6MfvwCEwYBhgL/s320/IMG_20180421_204502121-01.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nearly the end of me, certainly the end of the day.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
All in all, I'm really chuffed with the day and with the ride. The course was excellent, the atmosphere fantastic, a brilliant venue and a cracking event all round. I'm really happy with how I went, like I said, 1:40 quicker than I was preparing for and with genuine potential to have gone a bit quicker - not necessarily riding wise, but I could have reduced the stops, especially at FS2. Admittedly, the time-out and forcing liquids down was very necessary, so I'm not beating myself up about that. <a href="https://connect.garmin.com/modern/activity/2642732951">My Garmin download</a> shows 7:38 riding time out of 8:27 total, so 50 minutes stopped of which nearly 30 was that feed station: That's okay with me. My legs held up, my knee held up, I've got bruised hands and a sore backside, but you know what, that's all good. I've been laid the challenge of "200 next year or we’ll press gang you onto the team" from one of the Focal crew, so who knows. I'm still not sure whether I'd last the 200, but I can certainly say I enjoyed the 130, and hey, there's a year to think about it either way...</div>
Carrick 'Pyro' Armerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08705410588749063217noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7020678.post-56885202692695134482018-04-10T09:20:00.000-07:002018-04-10T10:16:30.816-07:00Misadventure Racing - Open5 GrassingtonSo, for once in the whole ‘Misadventure Racing’ topic, I’m going to start with a massive bunch of positives about how the latest Open5 race went, as barring a couple of things I’m fairly happy with my performance.<br />
<br />
<b>Firstly,</b> I felt way better than I have in any of the races so far. Obviously conditions help, it was a really pleasant day and stayed dry, but evidently my fitness is also bit closer to where it should be as well.<br />
<b>Secondly,</b> my score was my 3rd highest ever at 385, behind a 430 at Broughton way back in 2006 and a 415 in the snow at Blanchland in 2016.<br />
<b>Thirdly,</b> I nailed my second longest bike leg on an Open5 - 44km behind the 50km I did at Todmorden in 2016 - and my 3rd longest run. The latter is maybe more significant, because in both of the higher distances (Muker and Slaidburn, 15/16 series) I ran first rather than biked first.<br />
<br />
All really good stuff. Unfortunately, those positives are tempered by a few issues:<br />
<b>Firstly,</b> my CPs score was 445, but I ended up with -60 in penalty points for being 17 minutes late in.<br />
<b>Secondly,</b> I made a big navigational error on the bike that probably cost me half an hour - you see why that 17 minutes is an annoyance?!<br />
<b>Thirdly,</b> I could have lost more time on the run. I thought I’d made a big nav error in the woods, but looking at the GPS track after I actually wasn’t a million miles off where I planned, and I was always moving in the right direction. I just wasn’t 100% sure where I was at the time.<br />
<br />
So, as a very quick TL;DR summary for the short of concentration, before I get into the play-by-play:<br />
<i><b>I had a damn good day, and while I’m annoyed about the mistakes, they’re something to learn from for next year.</b></i><br />
<br />
Right, now for the long, involved, boring bit! Pull up a coffee...<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g3-lTPKaN54/WsymjcAcJXI/AAAAAAAADBs/7aHqI8PNzDo7ERnr23s4C3fKGQCZm6DfQCEwYBhgL/s1600/30264500_10160202704020503_4648983793598726144_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g3-lTPKaN54/WsymjcAcJXI/AAAAAAAADBs/7aHqI8PNzDo7ERnr23s4C3fKGQCZm6DfQCEwYBhgL/s400/30264500_10160202704020503_4648983793598726144_o.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Marking up at the start. Pic: James Kirby</td></tr>
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The last race of the ‘17-18 Open5 Series ran from Grassington, which was lovely for me since it’s only about an hour from home, I didn’t need to book a Youth Hostel for the night before, and it’s an area I know a bit of from various kayaking and biking adventures over the years.<br />
<br />
I pitched up for 8am after an early start and a decent breakfast, headed up to Registration to sign in and grab a coffee and a chat with Joe again. Looking at the map I'd guessed the area for the biking fairly well - Mastiles Lane at one end, Burnsall at the other. A few tracks on the board that I'd ridden, a few that I hadn't, but a couple of decent looking loops to get stuck into. I nabbed Ian Furlong's highlighter (note to self: add one of those to the kit, it makes spotting bridleways - like the one you missed last time! - so much easier...) and scribbled a bit, planned a couple of things, and headed back to the car to kit up and get started.<br />
<br />
<b>Bike: 44.10km / 740m ascent / 3:38:37</b><br />
<i><a href="https://connect.garmin.com/modern/activity/2610268800">https://connect.garmin.com/modern/activity/2610268800</a></i><br />
<br />
I started early and set off on the bike as usual. A first loop north from base, getting nicely warmed up climbing through town and up the road to pick up an easy CP and loop east across the old lead mines and down a lovely bridleway and track down the Hebden Beck valley. A few riders I saw taking this loop the other way had definitely picked the short straw, it was much easier (and more fun...) to descend the rough stuff than climb it!<br />
<br />
Dropping onto the road again in Hebden itself, into a back lane behind the church for another CP and then down a very muddy, rubbly, smelly lane out to the road again. There were probably marginally faster routes for that leg, I'll admit. Down the road towards the footbridge and stepping stones below Hebden - which we were forbidden to cross! I was expecting the bloke with the 3 questions out of Monty Python - turning left and heading towards Hartlington for another CP, then over the bridge at Burnsall, hitching on behind a couple of road bikers and getting a little bit of a tow up to the bridleway entrance down to the footbridge again. The nice policeman pulling out of the little layby at the entrance waved me in ahead of him, I hopped off and walked with my bike down the steep slippy steps, punched in and watched a certain male pair walking back across the bridge (stuck behind a woman with a pushchair) having obviously dropped their bikes at the north side and walked across. As Mark Chryssanthou pulled up just behind me, I pointed it out and we had a quick chat about how that should be deducted from their score, as the map plainly said "Do not cross the river", not just "Don't take your bike across the river".<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hLPQ4HLOXzY/WsymjcCtXxI/AAAAAAAADBs/lGssG5WpC6YgPO9qQZme5koTJmagt9_OgCEwYBhgL/s1600/30414781_10160202705205503_7020774775807016960_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hLPQ4HLOXzY/WsymjcCtXxI/AAAAAAAADBs/lGssG5WpC6YgPO9qQZme5koTJmagt9_OgCEwYBhgL/s400/30414781_10160202705205503_7020774775807016960_o.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Smiling for once! Must be early, I'm clean... Pic: James Kirby</td></tr>
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Anyway, away from that grumbling, up a muddy, grassy bank with Mark C and Ian Furlong alongside, both moving faster than me. Across a couple of fields and out onto the road, taking a slightly longer route rather than a short steep shock, out-and-back to CP12 and down the singletrack bridleway through CP13 and down to road, into Linton and over the gravel track to CP10. I'd been debating this loop with myself a bit, and with 20/20 hindsight I should have been more confident and gone 13, 12, 20, 10, 7. Playing it probably a bit too conservative, I opted to drop 20 when, realistically, I was going quite well and should have gone for it.<br />
<br />
After a quick stint along the road and onto the gravel track to 7, the decent day I'd been having came unglued and I made a massive nav error. My plan was to go from 7 to 5, up on a road/bridleway crossing up on Malham Moor - see illustration. I had two route choices, with little distance difference, maybe 500m, but a difference in the gradients. The slightly shorter road route descended away from CP7 to climb again very steeply whereas the off-road route climbed gradually along it’s distance. If the surface was as I expected it to be, decent 4x4 shooters access track, I didn't think there'd be a massive time loss by taking the longer off-road route. Mark Cryssanthou arrived at the same time as me again (I'm assuming he'd been further than I had!) and again, a quick chat about route choice. He opted to take the road, I decided to take the off road route, fixed it in my mind, set off from the CP, and promptly took the wrong track…<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yGlrrPF1m5g/WsypyV-XSKI/AAAAAAAADB4/n809rRAZwy45MDZgJN-AJ6dSFKm0rUyMACLcBGAs/s1600/O5G%2B-%2BCockup.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="802" data-original-width="1221" height="262" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yGlrrPF1m5g/WsypyV-XSKI/AAAAAAAADB4/n809rRAZwy45MDZgJN-AJ6dSFKm0rUyMACLcBGAs/s400/O5G%2B-%2BCockup.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Spot the non-deliberate mistake...</td></tr>
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With the benefit of hindsight, it’s easy to see where I went wrong: the track I took is marked just as a footpath - pink dots - but on the ground is another decent 4x4 track. I took it because I was looking for a track, not just a path, which I guess I expected to be just to be pedestrian-sized, not vehicle-sized. Looking closer at the map, the track I should have been on left the CP to the right, with a left-hand bend to turn it in the direction I was expecting to go. Evidently I should have just been paying more attention, which is probably the story of my life. It cost me 20-30 mins at least, which is a huge pain given how well I was going. It also added about 5km to my ride, which I probably could have done without, saving my legs for the run a bit might have been nice.<br />
<br />
I turned it around a bit on the return leg, having re-arranged the order of some CPs during my little navigational embarrassment to pick up CP3 at the top of Mastiles Lane first, then dropped down the road to 5 then across the grassy bridleway to 6 - or at least where 6 should have been. I arrived to another racer searching the area and looking puzzled, no SI box to punch in on: Description said it should be on the fingerpost; definitely not on the fingerpost. I wasn’t in the mood to hang around so told him I’d vouch for him being in the right place if he’d reciprocate, swapped rider numbers, and headed off down the track at pace, only to spot the SI box on a completely different junction half a km down the lane. Very strange, but I checked the ID and punched in anyway After that it was across Conistone bridge, where we put on for trips down the Wharfe with the Canoe Club, and down the back road to pick up one more CP before the dash back to transition<br />
<br />
<b>Run: 8.99km / 171m ascent / 1:35:15</b><br />
<a href="https://connect.garmin.com/modern/activity/2610283707"><i>https://connect.garmin.com/modern/activity/2610283707</i></a><br />
<br />
Lack of running time/fitness is still making the run harder than it should be for me, but for once the run was a good one. I was in and out of transition in a decent time - 2:51, including raising a couple of protests/comments with one of the transition staff (the misplaced CP6 and the naughty pair on the footbridge). 15th overall for that leg, and at least I'd remembered my running shoes this time so there was something to actually do in transition! I grabbed a chocolate waffle from the transition bag and shoved it down my neck as I jogged out of the car park, sucked the last of the water out of my reservoir and trotted off.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MuxG5S0BdK4/WsyxjOkLRnI/AAAAAAAADCI/JnRlQMZKAf8yK2TCKDskXGHQomgeQ0-iACLcBGAs/s1600/O5G%2B-%2BRun.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="635" data-original-width="988" height="256" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MuxG5S0BdK4/WsyxjOkLRnI/AAAAAAAADCI/JnRlQMZKAf8yK2TCKDskXGHQomgeQ0-iACLcBGAs/s400/O5G%2B-%2BRun.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Navigationally complex? Just a little bit.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The run route looked good, a chance to pull in a few more CPs than I've hit normally, in a decent sub-10km loop. An easy start down Sedber Lane to the bridge at Linton Falls, dodging tourists and walkers gawping at a section I've kayaked many times - it looked in good condition as well! - to the little stone bridge and the first CP. Two more CPs alonge the riverside past Ghaistrall's Strid and up towards Grass Wood. I had a bit of an internal battle going on, knowing my lack of run fitness but not wanting to trot home on the road with 40mins remaining, so decided to go for the wooded loop. The wood was a maze of small paths, some mapped and some not, so it was always going to end up complex. I hit both 36 and 33 spot on, despite a modicum of confusion, and opted to ditch 35 (just on the edge of the illustration) in favour of turning home via 31 and 27. Simple tracks running to the marked crossing point, then hit some smaller paths running the way I wanted to go, and then it all got a bit sticky. The series of question marks are to indicate that this was the way I went, but I'm not sure how the hell I did it...<br />
<br />
I never saw the wall that route assumes I crossed, just after the marked crossing point. I popped out into an unmarked clearing with a couple of major cairns, also unmarked, so sighted off Grassington bridge, took a rough bearing and continued. Bushwhacking between a couple of rows of rock outcrops, I eventually spotted a wall below me, the bottom edge of the Bastow Wood enclosure, and followed an unmapped track parallel to it, popping out at the gate right on top of 31, utterly by chance. Serendipitous, but likely slower than I could have been if I'd gone to 35 and used the bigger paths and top wall as handrails. Again 20/20 hindsight and probably a lack of confidence in my running.<br />
<br />
I knew I was running late by that point, so the final stretch across the fields to 27 and then down through town to the finish was done as quick as I could manage. Okay, not that quick overall, but more continuous pace that I'd had hacking through the woods. Punched in in 1:35, putting me 17mins over. I know I could have avoided that on the bike, so the slower section of the run would have been fine. With a bit more confidence in myself, I could have taken an extra two CPs for an additional 45 points as well: That's annoying, but something to learn from.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Au0bTijOyx4/WsymjcBkP0I/AAAAAAAADBw/SZxkKxTzzxAbnJ81rPG4HnvRsWZb_hMvACEwYBhgL/s1600/30411737_10160202723025503_8740067347085131776_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Au0bTijOyx4/WsymjcBkP0I/AAAAAAAADBw/SZxkKxTzzxAbnJ81rPG4HnvRsWZb_hMvACEwYBhgL/s400/30411737_10160202723025503_8740067347085131776_o.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Queueing for Nav4 chilli, coffee and cake! Pic: James Kirby</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
At the end of it all I ended up 28th out of 38 male solo racers on the day, and 21st in the series, out of 26 that completed at least 2 races, 80 that completed 1 or more. Without the penalties I'd have been 15th place on the day, plus 2 places higher in the series standings, which would have been a major results, but you know, some times s**t happens. In spite of the penalty points, I'd class these as my best bike and run legs of the season, and while I'm disappointed in myself for the mistakes, I'm also very heartened by the work I put in and the distances I covered.<br />
<br />
Big thanks as always have to go to James Thurlow and the team at Open Adventure for putting on 3 fantastic races for the winter series, to the planners of each of the events, to the marshals for looking out for us and to NAV4 Adventure Catering for caffeinating and feeding us. This was an awesome way to cap off a brilliant series.<br />
<br />
I'm off to clean and dismantle the race bike, since I'm building a new one for next year. Well done to anyone who made it this far!<br />
<br />
Cheers all<br />
<br />
Pyro<br />
<br />Carrick 'Pyro' Armerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08705410588749063217noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7020678.post-84809990190084934282018-02-13T13:24:00.000-08:002018-02-13T13:24:21.815-08:00Misadventure Racing - Open5 Edale<i>I might have to go with a Friends-esque episode subtitle for this particular blog entry.<br />Unfortunately, that subtitle would have to be "<b>The one with loads of Rookie Errors."</b></i><br />
<br />
There are some races you relish and reminisce about, and there are some you just have to chalk up to experience and try and learn from: Edale was one of the latter. Some good bits, don't get me wrong, and no issues that weren't entirely of my own making. Not the worst score I've ever had on an Open5 event either, I think. But too many little things wrong..<br />
<br />
I hadn't had the best of preparations for this one, not that that's an excuse. Not enough time on my bike over winter, and while I'd tried to do a bit more running after the December race, tearing my left calf just before New Year put paid to that. The weather's been awful, the motivation has been low, the pizza shop is oh-so-handy, all the usual cobblers. I'm carrying a few extra pounds, I know. I'm working on it...<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uCtxXRAuBX4/WoNPuPyvSPI/AAAAAAAAC9o/wud38YQC5N0sv6CO0vHzYk-PADtAASvSgCEwYBhgL/s1600/27913432_10159951578615503_5496753715693810818_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uCtxXRAuBX4/WoNPuPyvSPI/AAAAAAAAC9o/wud38YQC5N0sv6CO0vHzYk-PADtAASvSgCEwYBhgL/s320/27913432_10159951578615503_5496753715693810818_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First I drink the coffee, then I do the stuff. (Pic: James Kirby)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Being awful at mornings, I did the customary thing of booking into the nearest YHA for the night before the event. Edale hostel was plenty handy but very full, so a relaxing evening was spent reading a book and drinking a beer on my tod in the quiet entrance/boot room bit of the annex block. Got an early night but didn't sleep particularly well, though not due to a snorer in the room this time round. Early start, up at 6:45 just after another racer in the same dorm room had got up - I was awake anyway, and there was no way I was getting back to sleep before my 7am alarm anyway. Headed to the kitchen to put the coffee pot on admire the inches of snow that had fallen overnight while prepping breakfast. The sun was coming up, the snow was still coming down at varying rates, so it seemed like an idea to head down to Registration to have another coffee and a chat with <a href="http://nav4joe.blogspot.co.uk/">Nav4 Joe</a> on catering duty again. The usual confusion of trying to do some rough route-setting while still not quite with it, then back to the car to get kitted up and discover...<br />
<br />
<b><i>Rookie Error #1: When packing the car for a biking and running event, it helps to remember to pack your running shoes.</i></b><br />
<br />
It wasn't just the running shoes, really: I'd neglected to load the drybag rucksack which is my normal transition bag. That tends to contain a small paktowl, spare gloves, spare buff, spare warm layer and bit of extra food as well as the trail shoes. Everything bar spare shoes I had in the car, including another dry bag, so that lot got made up into a transition bag. The shoes part was a worry though, even though I knew the run would be the smaller part of the day. The end solution was to ditch my normal stiff carbon-soled MTB race shoes for the pair of Specialized Cadets I fortuitously also had in the car - a more trainer-like, less stiff shoe that I only normally use for casual bimbling and commuting. They wouldn't be great across muddy fields on the run, but they'd be better than the race shoe for as and when I ended up pushing the bike as well.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XR99-7oEdk0/WoNPm1al9AI/AAAAAAAAC90/RBslhhztRmIesGXkYVqQg6EZNLT9X29VgCEwYBhgL/s1600/28061125_10159951580515503_1973893423742803350_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XR99-7oEdk0/WoNPm1al9AI/AAAAAAAAC90/RBslhhztRmIesGXkYVqQg6EZNLT9X29VgCEwYBhgL/s320/28061125_10159951580515503_1973893423742803350_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Off early for once! (Pic: James Kirby)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
That terrible decision dealt with, I got myself kitted up - not excessive numbers of layers given the conditions, but enough. Come 8:55am I was ready and ahead of my own schedule, ending up being one of the first to roll up at the start. I knew my time of trail-breaking wouldn't last for long as there'd be plenty of faster people starting behind me, but it was a novel situation to be in, as I rolled across the start line at 9:03am (by Jim's watch as the big race clock was on the fritz...)<br />
<br />
<b><br /></b>
<b><br /></b>
<b>Bike: 33.34km / 765m ascent / 3:54:24</b><br />
<a href="https://connect.garmin.com/modern/activity/2492396344"><i>https://connect.garmin.com/modern/activity/2492396344</i></a><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
I started off pretty well. The first couple of CPs were an easy spin along the tarmac, and both being high points they were a no-brainer. After that it was a split decision, whether to dogleg back along the road and commit to the climb up-and-over to the end of Ladybower reservoir or to stay on the road and low in the valley. I opted to risk the climb and it was well worth it. The wind was behind me, which made it an easier go, and the snow abated briefly. James Kirby, the regular Open 5 Event Photographer (whose fine images adorn this blog regularly) appeared, so there's actually a shot of me on the hill for this race, unlike Coniston. A grin and a greeting exchanged, onwards and upwards. One easy CP on a gate at Jaggers Clough and then a second climb where the wind made itself known, glasses back on as scoured snow whipped into my face and stung. A few drifts to trap your wheels if you weren't paying attention, a few comedy offs, but soon into the shelter of the forest and a steep, nasty rocky descent to the reservoir that mainly ended up being a walk. On a social ride on a good dry day in summer I might have ridden a good chunk of it, but not on a cold snowy day during a race, discretion over valour and all that jazz.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MDQvkUXVojE/WoNPm9K-98I/AAAAAAAAC9s/YE2w_kvZTFE_YMCYItU8nAtlfcA5cUmHgCEwYBhgL/s1600/27912450_10159951579635503_7689668527195988125_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MDQvkUXVojE/WoNPm9K-98I/AAAAAAAAC9s/YE2w_kvZTFE_YMCYItU8nAtlfcA5cUmHgCEwYBhgL/s320/27912450_10159951579635503_7689668527195988125_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First climb, wind at my back (Pic: James Kirby)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Down by the reservoir it was beautifully sheltered, and I think I got lulled into a false sense of security. A fast spin along the shoreline track, picking up another CP opposite the Ladybower Viaduct, then past the dam - the sinkhole roaring with overflow water - and down into Thornhill on tarmac, with a short zig-zag down and back to pick up another 15 points. Gentle road climb into Aston, chasing down the guy on the fat bike whose tyre prints I'd seen in the snow up on the top, and then turning south and across the main road into Bradwell and a short steep climb up to CP15 at the road end. A quick look at the map, slightly fuzzy through the melted snow and spray on the mapboard, down the road and start turn left onto the climb towards...<br />
<br />
<b><i>Rookie Error #2: Look at the map. Look at the map again. Really, really, look at the map. Seriously...</i></b><br />
<br />
I'd half discounted CP10, or decided I'd climb up the road the south side of Hope Quarry and drop down to it before climbing back up to CP7. That seemed better than dropping back down almost to Hope village, going a decent way out of the way and descending further only to have to climb back up. What I'd failed to spot on the map was the neat, almost contouring bridleway through the woodlands at the east side of the quarry and into Pin Dale, which would have taken me nicely past CP10 on the way to CP7: no dog-leg out-and-back required. I don't know whether I'd missed it entirely, or half spotted it and discounted the pink dashed line as a footpath, but I obviously hadn't clocked it as a far better route choice than the one I ended up taking. Steeper - the same height gain total but all in a shorter distance on the climb out of Pin Dale - but considering how my actual route went probably little difference in time and one extra CP to be gained. Ho hum.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-niSe20FFz78/WoNPmsCRtgI/AAAAAAAAC94/wo05nSjTFTo2gtJsExuTW_dpcVDgiZiKACEwYBhgL/s1600/27797841_10159951578905503_6257615412122487604_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-niSe20FFz78/WoNPmsCRtgI/AAAAAAAAC94/wo05nSjTFTo2gtJsExuTW_dpcVDgiZiKACEwYBhgL/s320/27797841_10159951578905503_6257615412122487604_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wintery hill, teeth gritted (Pic: James Kirby)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The climb was a slog, no two ways about it. A couple of inches of compacted snow, plus low-ish profile rear tyre, plus headwind, plus gradient meant off the bike and push. Not an issue in itself - I'd been vaguely proven right about the shoes - but slow going. A few attempts to remount and ride were fairly abortive, I'd get on, get clipped in, get a few yards and have to unclip and step off again: It was less faffy just to push. I got up to a decent point where the gradient eased a little and hopped back on, feeling better for some opportunity to actually ride for the first time in a while. The road was still covered in compacted snow, but was surprisingly ridable when the wind was playing nice. A few hard gusts and a few ruts meant a foot down intermittently, and while it was hard going into the direct headwind, it wasn't as bad as the climb - at least I was pedalling rather than pushing. As I started to curve northwards the block-headwind became a side-headwind, and started causing more problems, pushing me towards the hedges and ruts I was trying to avoid.<br />
<br />
Just as I was resettling myself after a near-off, I'm jolted by a furious revving and honking behind me. I hadn't heard a car, and thought that any driver with any sense and anything other than a 4x4 would have stayed down in the valleys, but no, there's some numpty in a relatively sporty looking rear wheel drive Lexus slithering his way up behind me. I won't say I dived out of the way, but I did make sure I was well clear as he slid past, revving furiously to keep momentum up. He disappeared off around the curve, though I got the last laugh when I came across him 10min later, trying to dig himself out of a three foot deep snowdrift. "I've got winter tyres on, I thought it would be alright!" he moaned. I gave him a brief hand trying to push the car out while his partner sat in the driver's seat, but it was going nowhere and I wasn't exactly kitted up to stand around in the snow for too long, I needed to keep moving.<br />
<br />
I made it to the junction of the tracks, opted not to drop down to CP10, the climb had taken me far too long, even without the RAC-stop. I met up with a few people making their way up from Pin Dale and turned back into the headwind toward CP7, fighting through the wind, trying to avoid the ruts, trying not to get blown off the bike again. Starting to feel a little the worse for wear and lashed by spindrift, I pulled my glasses back on and a Buff up onto my face to get some protection. Finally slogging over to Oxlow House and the top of Winnats Pass, I'd given up any thought of dropping down the broken road so hauled myself up to Windy Knoll and the notch at the end of Mam Tor. Looking on the map, there was one CP I could get on the way back...<br />
<br />
<b><i>Rookie Error #3: When you're handed the control descriptions at the start, cross out ALL the 'No Control' CPs.</i></b><br />
And also...<br />
<b><i>Rookie Error #4: If you haven't done this, don't lose your control descriptions sheet on the hill.</i></b><br />
<br />
I joyfully, wearily, hauled my backside up to the notch, and pulled over where the bridleway leaves the road, down to CP5. Checked my control descriptions - oh no, hang on. They're not in their usual location, in the mesh side pocket of my feed bag. They must have blown out or been dropped somewhere on the hill. No matter, I'll drop down to the CP, do a very quick check, and if I can't see it within 30 seconds, that's it. Get the hell out of Dodge.<br />
<br />
The first 30 yards of the bridleway was ridable, the rest would have been more suited to a luge track, quite fittingly. Sliding ever downwards with the bike, laughing quietly at how idiotic this 'Dubious Mountain Judgement' was, to paraphrase Mr Faulkner. Slipping and sliding, I made it down to the junction of the bridleways and headed right through to the stream crossing where, utterly predictably, I couldn't see a CP unit. I searched around for a moment, but the utter lack of other tyre tracks didn't inspire any confidence, so I binned it and rode back as quickly as I could. I made it to transition in a shade under 4hrs, knackered and annoyed with myself. While I hadn't yet realised my error around CP10, I was annoyed I'd wasted time on the 'No Control' CP5 when I could have been back a good 10mins quicker if I'd just come down the road from Mam Tor. 'Fuming' didn't cover it<br />
<br />
Anyhow, at least the lack of a change of shoes meant my transition was fairly swift, sub 2 mins, probably the only thing I took a Top 20 time for that day (16th overall in 1:54, apparently!). The lovely transition staff handed me a replacement set of descriptions, and I headed out the gate again with roughly an hour available for a short shuffle.<br />
<br />
<b>Run: 6.55km / 58m ascent / 1:08:39</b><br />
<a href="run: 6.55km / 58m ascent / 1:08:39 https://connect.garmin.com/modern/activity/2492399807"><i>https://connect.garmin.com/modern/activity/2492399807 </i></a><br />
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The run route was pretty nice for me, despite the discomfort of running in biking shoes. The planner had very nicely located five CPs within a 1.5km radius of the Start/Finish area, so that gave a nice looking 6km-ish run with 120 points available.<br />
<br />
First one was easy, just down the road from the transition. Trotting up the lane towards Ollerbrook Booth, chatting with another solo who had loads of time to spare having started well behind me. Perhaps I should have moved a bit faster and chatted less, but we got to the CP and turned left again back towards Edale. I should have paid more attention again, but I was starting to flag after the hard work on the bike, and missed a turning onto a slightly shorter footpath option, ending up going further north to emerge by The Old Nag's Head and Cooper's Cafe. Pulling myself together, I stopped myself from shuffling off down the Pennine Way and turned onto the right footpath, slithering my way acros s sodden fields south-eastwards to pick up another CP near Shaw Wood, then on to Barber Booth and a fourth on a footbridge over a the river but under a railway. One more CP to go and I could go home, but I was flagging badly...<br />
<b><i><br /></i></b>
<b><i>Rookie Error #5: Even if you're blowing hard on the bike, remember to eat and drink. It helps keep you moving.</i></b><br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-s9IHAFbYNm0/WoNPnfdyirI/AAAAAAAAC9w/WkUPD5jbWUEzy4S6Xo-uoIQxGO1zglWHgCEwYBhgL/s1600/28061394_10159951596030503_4264867935319616347_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-s9IHAFbYNm0/WoNPnfdyirI/AAAAAAAAC9w/WkUPD5jbWUEzy4S6Xo-uoIQxGO1zglWHgCEwYBhgL/s320/28061394_10159951596030503_4264867935319616347_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'm told I look this p***ed off 60% of the time. (Pic: James Kirby)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I knew that was what had gone wrong. Thinking back, I should have been eating and drinking more as I was pushing up the hill out of Bradwell, but I hadn't, and I was starting to pay for it. I threw one of my 'emergency' gels down my neck and washed it down with the last of the Tailwind in my bottle, and trudged across yet another muddy field, munching down a cereal bar to try and render myself human, if only briefly. Strangely, when I'm having a bit of a low, I invariably feel too hot, so the skullcap came off, the gloves came off, jacket and gilet unzipped as I punched in at the last of my loop CPs and contemplated the return route. Continuing on the field-edge footpaths east then north down a bridleway was ever-so-slightly shorter, but I was slipping and sliding enough. retracing my steps to the road and trudging home on tarmac was maybe a little further, but flatter and likely to be easier. I turned tail and headed for the road, climbing the last stile and heading for home, alternating a jog-walk to try and hold pace but also avoid damaging my calf any more. The cleat bolts in the shoe sole made their presence felt more on the tarmac, but I trundled on regardless.<br />
<br />
I'd love to say I put in a glory sprint, but I'd be lying. I jogged up and dibbed in, pretty well spent. I'd run slightly over time, a touch over 7mins, so took 16 penalty points to drop my score from 340 to 324. Again, that's not my worst score, but I could have realistically had another CP in there and no penalties if I'd not made the Rookie Errors. We all live and learn, though, and there's one more race in the series to try and correct a few of those, at Grassington in the Dales in March.<br />
<br />
Until then!Carrick 'Pyro' Armerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08705410588749063217noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7020678.post-69687930015953869632017-12-11T10:22:00.000-08:002017-12-11T10:23:41.790-08:00Misadventure Racing - Open5 ConistonAs you may have noticed from the lack of 'Misadventure Racing' blogs last year, I managed absolutely none of the Open5 races in the 2016-17 series. Unfortunately, every race clashed with something else I was booked up for and couldn't reschedule - annoying, but such is life sometimes. To try and avoid the same happening again this year, my series entry went in as soon as they opened for '17-18! I know full well that I need something other than just kayaking to keep me motivated and out over the winter, so three races (one every other month) should definitely help. Handily, this season's races are all fairly easy for me to get to as well - Lakes, Peaks and Dales are all within a couple of hours drive so relatively close.<br />
<br />
Coniston was first up this year, and I was looking forward to it despite having had a very odd summer season. Early on I'd been in fairly good shape, getting in plenty of time on the bike at least, with bigger cross/gravel rides at the Kielder Cross in Feb and while working on Peaks Pioneer in May, two good days of mixed-surface touring on the Sandstone Way in April, a road century on Ride to the Sun in June, then good fun sportive rides of 30 and 70 miles on Cycle the Solway in July and York 100 in August. After that, unfortunately, it went physically downhill. September and October were very booked up with event work - all good fun events, but not as much physical work as I might have liked - November with kayaking and social weekends (though I did get a decent gravel loop in while in the Peaks) and then... oh look. First race of the season, too late to get any extra training in. Here we go again...<br />
<br />
To keep me honest and give me some extra motivation/competition/abuse, Steve H - occasional team-mate, some time support crew and general partner in outdoors crime - had entered the series as a Solo as well, so we shared transport, drove up and kipped at Holly How YHA to be able to get a decent night's sleep and not have such an early start from Leeds. The 'decent night's sleep' part of that got kiboshed by an extremely loud snorer in the dorm unfortunately, but we got the not-so-early start and a decent breakfast, and race base was then just a short trot down the road at John Ruskin school. Registered, coffee'd, planned and chatted with caterer extraordinaire <a href="https://www.nav4.co.uk/">Nav4 Joe</a>, <a href="http://www.theheb.org/">The Heb</a> (and other things) director <a href="http://www.durtyevents.com/">Paul</a> and a whole host of others, it was time to get going.<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Bike: 33.62km / 844m ascent / 3:37:51 </b><br />
<i><a href="https://connect.garmin.com/modern/activity/2374464423">https://connect.garmin.com/modern/activity/2374464423</a></i><br />
<br />
<div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-H6ROPkBRnCc/Wi6soIixFpI/AAAAAAAAC7c/1ZDuhddwNMICvqh7D6jrdKmCa35G-9rWwCEwYBhgL/s1600/25073197_10159670247210503_2489367904151704893_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-H6ROPkBRnCc/Wi6soIixFpI/AAAAAAAAC7c/1ZDuhddwNMICvqh7D6jrdKmCa35G-9rWwCEwYBhgL/s400/25073197_10159670247210503_2489367904151704893_o.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pre-race deliberation - Steve and I (pic: James Kirby)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I opted to bike first as usual, and headed out just behind Steve who opted to run first. I'd eyed up a loop that crossed a load of trails we rode in a past Man of Porage event, so I at least had some prior knowledge (albeit in reverse for a few of the sections). Roughly, looping north from Coniston via Hodge Close quarry and Little Langdale over to Elterwater, then back via Skelwith Bridge, Iron Keld and Hawkshead Hill, all went pretty well. I've rebuilt my Scandal 29er hardtail to race on and in general it rode really well despite a decent amount of ice on the ground. A couple of slips since I'm running a very much summer/dry conditions Crossmark on the rear, but in general pretty damn good. I could have maybe saved a little time by taking a slightly different CP order early on - removing a loop and picking up one of the CPs on the way back to transition wouldn't have made much difference in terms of distance would have avoided some climbing. Otherwise the only real notable mistake/regret was my route from CP 11 to CP10 - a steep narrow singletrack that turned out to be sheet ice in more than a few places. Pretty much unrideable as a climb, a pain in the backside to push up in carbon soled MTB shoes, but with no easier/more viable access without a lot of extra mileage, I took 23 minutes on a 1200m leg, the shortest of my route. With 20/20 hindsight, it may have been better to skip that and give myself more leeway on the run. At least from there I had a fairly simple and clear run back to Coniston for the changeover.</div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Run: 8.52 km / 102m ascent / 1:15:03 </b><br />
<i><a href="https://connect.garmin.com/modern/activity/2374467879">https://connect.garmin.com/modern/activity/2374467879</a></i><br />
<br />
<div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8LVPqOF36Z0/Wi6spwkh-PI/AAAAAAAAC7k/ENlmVlNbK6AN4dCl5pXg2uj2hE66mqIqgCEwYBhgL/s1600/25189005_10159670251535503_7833039135801324974_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8LVPqOF36Z0/Wi6spwkh-PI/AAAAAAAAC7k/ENlmVlNbK6AN4dCl5pXg2uj2hE66mqIqgCEwYBhgL/s400/25189005_10159670251535503_7833039135801324974_o.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No pics of me on the hill, so have a pic of just the hill (pic: James Kirby)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Back at transition in around about 3:40 - a little longer than intended but in the right ballpark - and time to sort myself out for the run. I was through transition pretty quickly, a shade over 5 minutes, just time for a couple of shots of coffee from the tiny flask I'd filled before the start, a change of shoes, ditching the gloves and the helmet and having a quick pore over the map and descriptions. Again, I'd half made my mind up about a route before the start, but had to change a little since two of the closest checkpoints turned out to be dummies. I set off south along the lake shore path, picking up three CPs and keeping an eye on the time. The intention was to get those then loop west and climb up from Little Arrow to get one or two CPs near the old quarries, but the little bit of time overage (and a lack of running fitness on my part) meant the high CPs would have to wait and I was in for a 3km dash back along the main road. I beat myself up a bit, thinking I was going to be over and incur penalty points, which it's been one of my main aims to avoid. I pushed myself steadily along the road, cursing my legs, my back, my lack of training, my lack of fitness (etc etc) with increasing regularity, and dibbed in to finish still thinking I'd gone over the 5 hours. Steve arrived home not long behind me, having gone hard on the bike and very nearly blown, knowing he was over by about 10mins as he'd tracked the whole lot as one on his Suunto watch. I'd split mine across bike computer and watch so wasn't 100% sure. On the negatives side, I need to do more running over the winter, just to get the time in the legs so I don't feel quite so lousy. On the positives side, the new Saucony Peregrines were bang on for the conditions (grippy enough for the loose wet bits but with enough cushioning on the hardpacked frozen stuff) and it looks like I actually plodded a fairly-respectable-for-me distance at a fairly-respectable-for-me pace. With greater time in the legs hopefully the pace might increase a little and the levels of cursing might decrease...</div>
<br />
<br />
Anyway. A quick change into warm dry clothes and in to download and grab soup and chilli from Joe, and it turned out I'd got back in 4:58:12, so just inside time. 325 points all told, not my highest ever but a solid enough score for me. As I've said up above, a few things I know I need to work on, but this was a pretty good check of where the fitness is right now - not brilliant, but not completely appalling either!. February's the next race on the calendar down in Edale, plus I've a couple of other event entries in the calendar for March and April as well as the final Open5 in the Dales. There will always be more to do, but at least this has been a solid start to the winter season.<br />
<br />
Until next time!Carrick 'Pyro' Armerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08705410588749063217noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7020678.post-71229967093348238002017-02-20T10:06:00.000-08:002018-04-25T02:44:45.969-07:00Kielder Cross ChallengeThe Misadventure Racing blogs are set to look a bit different this year. I'd planned to do the Open5 series again, since I felt like I'd enjoyed them and made a bit of progress last year, but unfortunately for me they've all clashed with other events. I'd been roughly planning to start trying some of the Gravel Rides, so decided to get some entries in to motivate myself over the winter. Come the first one, it had half worked - I had some fitness, if not as much as maybe I'd have liked, but I think that's always the case.<br />
<br />
The <a href="https://www.highterrainevents.co.uk/off-road-duathlon-series">Kielder Cross Challenge</a> came up as an early-season possibility. 40km night ride, 60km day ride, based out of Hawkhirst Scout Camp on the side of Kielder Water. I stuck an entry in fairly early, got accommodation and meals reserved, so all that was left was to get fit and sorted. That was all going reasonably well until an enforced fortnight off courtesy of a gig, a fall and a somewhat damaged shoulder, so after a couple of gentle weeks, one 'test' spin to see if the shoulder would hold up, I was on my way North once again. I landed at Hawkhirst around 3;30pm, got myself signed in, and sorted the accommodation - I was camping, so pitched my tent in the trees not far from the centre - and had a brew. Gradually, more riders started arriving, and soon enough it was 6pm and time for the off.<br />
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<br />
<b>Saturday - Night Ride: 41.65km, 412m climb - 2:12:41</b><br />
<a href="https://connect.garmin.com/modern/activity/1582134723"><i>https://connect.garmin.com/modern/activity/1582134723</i></a><br />
<br />
I did a bit of a silly. Well, I did a couple of sillies, to be honest. The first one was not switching my Garmin on before I actually rolled over the starting line, so the GPS trace starts part way out onto the course. The second one was that I got overexcited at smooth gravel trail and other people on cross bikes and went off a little bit too hard.<br />
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The Lakeside Way was a great bit of trail for a fast lap, undulating with lots of places where it was easy to carry speed. The only disadvantage of doing it at night was trying to brake in advance of the few dicey hairpins - I nearly lost it on a corner at least once, but generally managed to keep a rhythm and keep things upright. There were a few confusing points, a couple where maybe there could/should have been an extra bit of waymarking, but the route was generally really good. I'd set myself the target of remembering to eat every half hour, since I regularly forget to eat at all on events. I stuck to that, but cocked up in a couple of places and lost a lot of momentum stuffing food into face with my right hand when I also needed that hand to change gear on a climb! I still didn't drink enough, and had slight cramps late on - only carried one bottle, no drinks bladder, and didn't finish that one bottle. Things to work on, as always! On the plus side, I never felt like I was wanting for more lumens from my lighting - Exposure Equinox on the bars, with a small Support Cell to give a longer burn time if I needed it, and a Mk9 Joystick on my helmet<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-f1UKGidWMPI/WKseEj5djpI/AAAAAAAACmU/4PSwiPEzb2wWe9ZePAbRWvbgyYL8ElNuwCLcB/s1600/KX_3_1200.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-f1UKGidWMPI/WKseEj5djpI/AAAAAAAACmU/4PSwiPEzb2wWe9ZePAbRWvbgyYL8ElNuwCLcB/s400/KX_3_1200.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Night Rider (pic by Stephen Wilson / www.granddayoutphotography.co.uk)</td></tr>
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With the start being in small windows rather than en-mass, I'd deliberately started as early as possible to give myself as much leeway as possible if I was slow, so ended up back not long after 8pm. That worked nicely as I had an evening meal booked at the Scout Camp, so I crammed down soup, pasta & meatballs, garlic bread, cake, and a couple of large cups of tea, then rinsed the bike and hit the hay early, tucked up in my sleeping bag. I read for a little while, but was soon dozing off and out like a light.<br />
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<b>Sunday - Day Ride: 61.40km, 1056m climb - 5:02:30</b><br />
<a href="https://connect.garmin.com/modern/activity/1582134807"><i>https://connect.garmin.com/modern/activity/1582134807</i></a><br />
<br />
I was up at 7am having slept really well. Breakfast, again at the centre, wasn't being served until 8, so I fired the stove up and made myself a pot of coffee to sip at while I sorted myself and the bike out again. Extra food packed - sticking with the same doctrine of eating every half hour. Hydration bladder filled and packed - learning from Saturday! Most comfy bike shorts on - that one's a no brainer. Soon enough breakfast time came, and while I wouldn't normally go for a cooked breakfast before a ride, I knew I'd probably need it. I'd said to myself all night that I was going to take Sunday conservatively, knowing I'd gone too hard on the night ride and would probably end up paying for it, so a bit of extra food and a bit of extra kit seemed like a good plan.<br />
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As I was back as the car getting everything finalised, my Dad rolled up, having driven over from home to say hello and to go for a ride round the Lakeside Way himself. I was hoping to see him again while I was out on course but never did. He'd been out for 3:30-ish and was knackered when he got back so headed off to Kielder Castle for food and a brew. Still, not bad at all for a man in his 70s!<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-P4NLV86Rv6Y/WKseDqbTitI/AAAAAAAACmc/I-82bg041rsbNamg05av627DplZI8KkvQCEw/s1600/KX_2_1200.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-P4NLV86Rv6Y/WKseDqbTitI/AAAAAAAACmc/I-82bg041rsbNamg05av627DplZI8KkvQCEw/s400/KX_2_1200.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Speed Trap (pic by Stephen Wilson / www.granddayoutphotography.co.uk)</td></tr>
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Our route was a lot less straightforward than Saturday had been. More climb, some singletrack, one horrible boggy hike-a-bike up and more or less hike-a-bike back down, and (naturally) the longest, highest climb in the last 10km. I stuck to my game plan, spun steadily as much as I could, carried speed where I could, ate and drank on schedule on the move. I had a few short stops, pausing to stretch out a sore lower back at different intervals. Not sure whether that's saddle position, ride position or just core strength, but it came under 'irritating' rather than 'debilitating', so I carried on regardless. There were some really nice sections and moments, descents that ranged from 'fast and fun' to 'slow and sketchy', seeing sculptures and artworks in daylight that I'd totally missed the night before. Another nice thing was that every rider, MTB or CX, faster or slower, that passed alongside said hi at least. Especially nice was riding in some company on the last long fire road drag to the highest point, having a bit of chat with another rider on the way, helping to break up the monotony of the gravel drag. While he dropped me before the summit, I took my own break there to grab food and also (very geekily) to grab a shot of the Trig Pillar that sat 20 yards off the forest road. The last descent was all forest road and shorter than I would have liked for the time I'd been climbing! After that there was a fast spin along the tarmac, reeling in the two riders ahead of me just before the turn back into Hawkhirst, and down the access road to cross the line in just over 5hrs. Better than the 6hrs I'd prepped for and set off anticipating, so I can't complain. And hey, I bagged another Trig. These little things make my day.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zzMbo5Bl0zM/WKseEXlpF3I/AAAAAAAACmc/7TueH56E9msEw3CFfHdnw33okuzOUu7ggCEw/s1600/IMG_20170219_115525008_HDR-01.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zzMbo5Bl0zM/WKseEXlpF3I/AAAAAAAACmc/7TueH56E9msEw3CFfHdnw33okuzOUu7ggCEw/s320/IMG_20170219_115525008_HDR-01.jpeg" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Robin's Hut (pic by Pyro)</td></tr>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-X0heqOCQyWw/WKseFEoNo8I/AAAAAAAACmc/7SjUXMJ6Bv0RUTIT-BWJM1Qciooavrh3wCEw/s1600/IMG_20170219_141552629-01.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-X0heqOCQyWw/WKseFEoNo8I/AAAAAAAACmc/7SjUXMJ6Bv0RUTIT-BWJM1Qciooavrh3wCEw/s320/IMG_20170219_141552629-01.jpeg" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Trig! (pic by Pyro)</td></tr>
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On the whole, a great weekend. Small negatives: poor pacing on Saturday, niggly back on Sunday, but nothing insurmountable. Big positives: better feed strategy, fitness a touch better than I thought it might have been, and my bike worked really well. No gearing issues, though squeally brakes need a tweak or fresh pads, I'm not sure which (if they didn't need new pads before Sunday, they almost certainly do now! I'm still tweaking my saddle position, which might alleviate the back pain a bit. Oh, and after seeing a dozen or so CX riders dealing with flats, I'm happy to say that having gone tubeless seems to have paid off. Hunt 4Season Gravel Disc wheels set up with 40c WTB Nanos worked well for me, the tyres sealed easily and held up nicely. They seemed to roll fast enough on the harder stuff and there was only one point (the clay-slick flat at the top of the aforementioned hike-a-bike) where I felt like I was wanting for grip, but since even a fat bike rider said they'd struggled there, maybe I'm not alone. I've longer and harder plans for later in the year, but this has been a pretty good start to the season and a pretty good indicator of where I am and what I need to do from here.<br />
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Many thanks to <a href="https://www.highterrainevents.co.uk/">High Terrain Events </a>for a brilliant couple of days out, <a href="https://www.scoutadventures.org.uk/centre/hawkhirst">Hawkhirst Scout Adventure Centre</a> for accommodation and food, and <a href="http://www.granddayoutphotography.co.uk/">Grand Day Out Photography</a> for the two shots above.<br />
<br />Carrick 'Pyro' Armerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08705410588749063217noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7020678.post-16141862390953655242016-04-11T10:24:00.001-07:002016-04-12T01:27:49.397-07:00Misadventure Racing: Open5 TodmordenEnd of the Open5 series for this winter and we were headed to the steep sides of Calderdale, the land of dark satanic mills, packhorse trails all over the place, and the kookiness that is Hebden Bridge. As usual, I opted to stay fairly near the venue because I know I hate early starts, so first order of the night was to find my accommodation up at the Mankinholes YHA. Easier said than done, because even in a little Skoda Fabia with a fairly decent turning circle, there was at least one junction that required a 3-point turn to get round! No pre-race paddling this time either, but at least that gave me a Saturday free to do semi-domesticated things like servicing my bike, bleeding my brakes and getting some kit washed, so at least I had some clean stuff to race in and brakes that worked properly this time out.<br />
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Dinner was a nice Korean salmon stir fry, and after some dark chocolate and a beer or two I retired to bed early. I'd booked a private 2-bed room since there was a chance a friend was going to race with me, but he realised he'd double-booked, so I got a nice quiet room to myself for the night! Morning came quickly, as it does, and after a quick breakfast and the short drive down to Todmorden High School I was ready, if not raring to go. A misty start to the morning had started to burn off by about 9:15, so about 9:20 I punched out and set off.<br />
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Bike - <a href="http://www.mapmyride.com/workout/1421405855">http://www.mapmyride.com/workout/1421405855</a><br />
<br />
I made a few nav cock-ups on the bike, wasting a bit of time that could have helped me get a few more points on the run. Two - one on a bridleway bridge and one on a bench at a reservoir inlet - were a case of starting to look for the CP too early, and either not reading the map properly or just convincing myself I was in the right place when I wasn't. The others were just poor route choice given the terrain, taking a more direct line when a longer but better surfaced alternative would probably have been quicker. I cursed myself for one of those at the end of the bike leg, should have just used the more rideable farm lane and road grind rather than what turned out to be a humorously crap narrow muddy bridleway that I ended up pushing most of.<br />
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I'm pretty sure the way I climbed up onto the moor - up the main road to Cornholme then up past Shore - was a decent, efficient (if steep and sweary) way up onto the tops. I'm not sure whether the first 'inner' loop I did was genius or stupid, but it tagged off 3 CPs that would have been a bit more faffy to get at the end of the main 'outer' loop, although in hindsight I can see a way that could have worked. The first section of the Pennine Bridleway was one of the aforementioned nav cock-ups, and about 10 minutes of dithering. The next was another 10 minutes of dithering at the head of Cant Clough, though I think heading back down the reservoir and using the Pennine Bridleway again saved some time spent pushing and swearing if I'd used the permissive path up Rams Clough. The two dog-legs at the north end of the map both picked up low scoring, with the first one on Swinden Water requiring a lot of effort. Meeting Jeff, Eddie and Ben headed the other way there was a definite suggestion of "Ah, we're not the only ones who got suckered into this one..." Not sure it was worth the push back up the zig-zagging trail, but there you go. The descent to Widdop reservoir confirmed I was right to have ridden the Element, though, and I was very glad of a bit of rear suspension in places!<br />
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The run home was the site of the humorously crap push, and I do think I could have saved another 5-10 mins if I'd just exited onto tarmac, though that might have been debatable in the sense of the rules - farm track marked as footpath rather than bridleway, I think. Even without that, a daft choice and a lack of attention around some houses meant a detour I could have avoided, though at least it was onto a decent surface. The final CP was a 40 pointer and then it was a long, steep dive down back to the valley bottom, a minor-and-swiftly-corrected wrong turn at the roundabout in town, a final hammer down the road and into transition.<br />
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Run - <a href="http://www.mapmyride.com/workout/1421435849">http://www.mapmyride.com/workout/1421435849</a><br />
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There's not a lot I can say about the run. It was simply a token trot to the nearest (and easiest to find) CP to make sure my score counted. I'd got into transition with something like 28mins to go, so it was just a quick change of shoes and out. I contemplated going for one more - another very close one - but decided it just wasn't worth it going for a handful of points that I would then almost certainly lose in being a few minutes over time. Up the road, punch the CP, back down the road, finish. And with that, the series was over for me. Sound the fanfare, and let the fat bloke sing. What do you mean, <i>'he's lying down by his transition kit going "ouch"'</i>? Typical. He'll want a beer next, I suppose?...<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ztas3WgXHx4/VwvcMv3syMI/AAAAAAAACao/eNizNAD8w7wn6nXPBm4xJofEjyV5YzBBQ/s1600/12957676_10156784883290503_8607294540985584374_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ztas3WgXHx4/VwvcMv3syMI/AAAAAAAACao/eNizNAD8w7wn6nXPBm4xJofEjyV5YzBBQ/s640/12957676_10156784883290503_8607294540985584374_o.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Punched in and done. Pic: James Kirby</td></tr>
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<br />
As far as analysis of the season in general goes, I think the series comes under the category of 'learning experiences', however I can definitely say I'm glad I've got off my backside and got out. The winter's an awful time for motivation for me, and while I can't say I've ever got to the intended point of getting much 'training' in between races, I have got out for other rides (though not really runs) and feel like I've pushed myself a bit more, physically and mentally. It's a difficult thing to quantify, since the seasonal motivation has changed as the weather has (marginally) improved, but the last race of the season definitely felt easier, mentally, than the first and second.<br />
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Over the series, I've done 20 miles of running and 105 miles of biking over 24hrs 23mins total race time, taking in 4056m (13307ft) of total ascent (and, presumably, the same in total descent, otherwise either my maths has gone wrong or I'm hovering...). I've managed to avoid running over the allotted 5hrs each time, so have not taken any penalty points. I've made a good few silly mistakes, but I've also been to a few fantastic locations that I probably wouldn't have got to otherwise. Slaidburn had my longest run at 6.4 miles. The end of the season at Todmorden was my longest bike at 31.2 miles. I've ended up 29th out of 125 who've raced Male Solo over the season, 28th of 32 who've raced three or more for a full series ranking.<br />
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As a series, all the events I've been to have been fantastically good, so big thanks to James T as the series organiser and to all the various event planners and volunteers for making them worth getting out of bed on a Sunday for. My favourite of the season, and my best result, was out in the snow at Blanchland, where I managed a really good bike and a decent-but-short run despite a knackered calf. My worst, quite easily, was the first race at Muker, where I forgot a watch, ran for too long, made a bunch of nav errors, and had horrible mechanical problems on the bike. Oh, and the weather was crap too.<br />
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There are definitely things I can still improve on, aside from the obvious two of 'get fitter and eat less pies' and 'make less nav mistakes'. I've got better - and perhaps a bit more ambitious - at planning my race routes, but I still don't plan by score. With the score sheet give-out at the start, I tend to pause only to cross out the dummies and then head out to ride/run, so there can be a bit of awkward pausing to try and read a score sheet while riding, and I've often put a lot of effort into getting a CP only to realise it's a really low scorer. That's a tactical element that I could work on, maybe taking an extra minute to scribble the scores onto the map would help. Playing to my strength and biking first has helped for the last couple of events, though a bit extra fitness and speed on foot would have helped for those last gasp token run CP dashes.<br />
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Eating and drinking is another thing I had problems with at intervals. I'm not usually short of a desire to eat, but especially on this last race, I've been lax at keeping myself fed and watered. I've only carried one bottle, which isn't really enough, so need to grab a hydration bladder for my Macpac race pack to make drinking more convenient!<br />
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Overall, it's been a great series to race in and a decent enough season for me as a racer. In a way, I'm just glad to be back doing some racing for myself, instead of just taking pictures of other people doing it. It's gone more-or-less the way I'd expected, nothing spectacular, no heroic performances, no fireworks. It's been hard, frustrating and marginally painful at times, but mainly it's been fun, and that's what I wanted out of it.<br />
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Cheers all, 'til whatever misadventure happens next!<br />
<br />
Pyro<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-z__WNWKUSW8/VwvdF-xbS0I/AAAAAAAACaw/PB-a_iwELeQGBBbAfkkzsrBoogV0naoyA/s1600/12983386_10156784885980503_1920651258093356348_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-z__WNWKUSW8/VwvdF-xbS0I/AAAAAAAACaw/PB-a_iwELeQGBBbAfkkzsrBoogV0naoyA/s640/12983386_10156784885980503_1920651258093356348_o.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Back the other side of a camera. Pic: James Kirby</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />Carrick 'Pyro' Armerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08705410588749063217noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7020678.post-31562576974799791052016-03-15T09:07:00.001-07:002016-03-17T08:50:05.151-07:00Misadventure Racing: Open5 AskhamOne more for the monthly Misadventure Racing series, and one more to go after this. Very unusually, there was no pre-race paddling this time round. My sincerest apologies to both my readers, and I promise to get back to normal shonky form for next month.<br />
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I'd love to say that the latest Open 5 from Askham continued my triumphant <i>(ahem...) </i>re-entry back into the world of Adventure Racing, but knowing the state of my racing, I don't think I'll ever fool anyone into thinking the triumph is on the menu. This minor resurrection has been about the same as my standard racing day; less sudden dramatic fanfare and leap through the curtain, more slow, sweaty, sweary plod from the back of the auditorium to the stage. Hey ho.<br />
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I like my planning and logistics, but frankly the planning for this one was a bit shaky. I'd been asked to help out on <a href="http://ratrace.com/mightydeerstalker2016/">the Mighty Deerstalker</a> trail run/obstacle course event the night before the Open 5, and had said 'yes' having not checked the dates properly, thereby committing myself to an 'interesting' amount of travelling over the weekend. Since I'd landed myself in the s**t, I decided the best thing to do was to drag a few willing <strike>idiots</strike> friends in there with me, so roped three friends in to help me out with the Saturday night. I'd also failed to string it together as being the weekend after the National Student Rodeo, and obviously hadn't adequately accommodated for the contagion impacts of being around 1,000 students for a weekend, so had spent the week before being sneezy, snotty, coughy, shivery and several other lesser Dwarves. Sweary was definitely in there as well.<br />
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Anyhow, come the weekend itself and I had Sean and Ruth travelling up with me from Leeds and Rachel joining us from Edinburgh later on, so we were fully staffed. The Leeds trio headed up to my folks place in the Lakes on Friday and after a nice meal, a decent night's kip and a lie-in, Thunderbird 2 was go again and headed northbound up the M74. A quick briefing with Stu the Race Director, chats with a few old friends, and we were free to wander, so we went and stocked up on food and coffee before headed back to the main briefing and then filed as two pairs out to our assigned locations on opposite sides of the course: Sean and Ruth got the skinnies on Caddon Bank, Rach and I the roped descent on the back of Pirn Craig; Sean and Ruth were finished by half past eight, Rach and I were in place until the best part of 11pm. Joy!<br />
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Deerstalker duty done, the three of us skedaddled back to the Lakes, knowing that we'd be on an early start on Sunday morning. As typically happens when you really fancy an easy drive, it all went a bit wrong. Setting the sat nav to alleviate the amount of mental processing required led to it taking us on the 'fastest' route, over the tops via Tweedsmuir and the Devil's Beef Tub and down to Moffatt. That might well be the fastest route on a fine, clear day, but on a dark, foggy night, when visibility's down to 20 yards max, it gets a little bit slower. Eventually we got to the motorway, got back to Carlisle, then back home at 1:20am, just time for a handful of hours sleep before getting up to go race.<br />
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We got through to Askham, having taken a minor diversion due to closed roads and bridges after the last bout of flooding in Cumbria, dumped the car and wandered towards registration, only to be asked to move it straight away. I'd left Sean the keys so a bit of sign language later and the car was duly moved while I went and signed my life for the next 5hrs away. After a quick chat with Joe on porridge duty and a ramble out to work out where the hell the car and all of my kit was, I started getting sorted out and ready to roll out, grabbing food and drinks bottles and working out, well, what to ride.<br />
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The other bit of lax planning had been on bike choice and bike maintenance. I've just finished building up a new full-suss 29er, a Rocky Mountain Element, which was just about ready to go, but with the post-NSR lurghi I hadn't had a chance to actually have a shake-out ride and check everything was done up and functioning properly. My other bike, my On-One Scandal hardtail 29er was theoretically good to go, but hadn't been ridden or even cleaned and re-lubed since the snowy day out up at Blanchland, so it was a split decision of new-and-shiny-but-untested vs older-and-true-but-probably-squeaky. I'd thrown both onto the roofrack just in case, thinking I might have done a short ride on the new one on Saturday, but no joy. I pulled both down to sort out - I'd need to swap my map board mount and saddle pack over if I was using the new one anyway - and after a quick fidget with a slightly-in-need-of-a-bleed rear brake and some extra air in the shock and forks, I opted for the Rocky.<br />
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<b>Bike -</b> <a href="http://www.mapmyride.com/workout/1386566967">http://www.mapmyride.com/workout/1386566967</a><br />
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The start was a short ride from the car, all uphill, so a nice little warmup. I hadn't looked at the map much before the start, and when I got to transition there were only a few minutes before the Solo riders start closed, so it was straight in, drop the transition bag, gloves on and ready to go. I opted to keep the same strategy as the <a href="http://pyrosyard.blogspot.co.uk/2016/02/misadventure-racing-open5-blanchland.html">Blanchland race</a>, do a longer bike first then pick off a few run CPs with the time left, so up to the marshals and the normal start routine of picking up the points sheet, scribbling out the 'dummy' CPs and trying to configure a decent loop and I was off. First leg was the uphill struggle onto Askham Fell and over to the Cockpit, where James the event photographer managed to snap me looking, well, angry. No reason why, I was actually having a fairly nice day, I just look very unhappy to see him. Sorry about that James.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jhJz4NT6_v0/VugxnDLuWtI/AAAAAAAACZ0/OWnMnAolgpE6tNp7IPgg9wMbGC4_OzH7A/s1600/12828563_10156643339860503_1946074613849225274_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jhJz4NT6_v0/VugxnDLuWtI/AAAAAAAACZ0/OWnMnAolgpE6tNp7IPgg9wMbGC4_OzH7A/s320/12828563_10156643339860503_1946074613849225274_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Angry Beard is Angry - Pic: James Kirby</td></tr>
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The big split decision from the Cockpit was whether to go for the 40 point CP up on Loadpot Hill, committing yourself to 5km slog and 1000ft of ascent up the old Roman Road of High Street, which I decided wasn't worth it for me and the way I was feeling. The descent may have been awesome but the climb would have done me over, so I turned off right and onto the descent down to Howtown, loving the rear suspension and soaking up the hazy sunlight. Stopped by one CP by a stream crossing to slurp down the remainder of my bottle and top it up from the stream - always a lovely feeling in spring - and then down more before climbing from Howtown round The Coombs to the new(er) church at Martindale. As I climbed, the lad behind me, who'd been with me for a little while, says "Are you going to 17?"... Erm, yes. I wouldn't be going this way if I wasn't... "Damn. I wasn't planning to. Serves me right for tailgating I guess." Serves you right for not reading your own flipping map, pal!<br />
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The payoff for climbing to Martindale was the blast down the zig-zags down The Hause, though I did it forwards and carefully, not <a href="https://youtu.be/aZx6aJvGOw0?t=224">backwards on one wheel</a>. The tarmac spin back to Pooley Bridge was despatched fairly quickly having caught up with another racing friend, Roger, and we chatted our way back along the road before I dropped off the back climbing up to Celleron and back towards Askham. I'd been looking at the map and evaluating my time, and decided I would go a bit longer on the bike, having only been out about 2:30 on the first loop. There was another shorter route I could do, mainly on tarmac with a handful of bridleways, so I headed south for Helton, then up onto the fell again, dodging tourists and their dogs out for a walk, down a short bridleway then looping round Rough Hill and back towards Butterwick and Helton again, and back to Askham on the road. Bumped into Sean and Ruth sunning themselves with a coffee on a bench by Askham Stores having been for a walk up onto the fell. They started making me jealous with talk of steak pie, so I headed off to transition and get a wee wander on foot in myself.<br />
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One bit of preparation that had gone right was my transition bag, and the secret weapon therein. I may have attracted a couple of jealous glances as I sat down to changes my shoes and pulled out my still sealed, still hot enough insulated mug of coffee, followed by two pain au chocolat. A veritable feast mid-way through a race, and yet I was still only in transition six-and-a-half minutes, pretty swift for me.<br />
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<b>Run -</b> <a href="http://www.mapmyride.com/workout/1386570359">http://www.mapmyride.com/workout/1386570359</a><br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zGNrUp3uGz8/Vugx7nEz7bI/AAAAAAAACZ4/riNpkt9LBeQEO0nk-cVDQbckGxL_xOtZQ/s1600/12795045_10156643356155503_8694141034890714320_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zGNrUp3uGz8/Vugx7nEz7bI/AAAAAAAACZ4/riNpkt9LBeQEO0nk-cVDQbckGxL_xOtZQ/s320/12795045_10156643356155503_8694141034890714320_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Where's the finish dibber?! I want to stop!" - Pic: James Kirby</td></tr>
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The run was a typical short ramble, a touch over 6km and four CPs, lollipop style, heading up onto the fell end first, then up over Heughscar Hill, back through a channel between two blocks of woodland and jogging steadily back down the track to the finish. I finished on 375 points, which knocks one of my first two races off the 'top 3 scores' <a href="http://www.openadventure.com/results/1516/open5_series/male_solo.html">Series table</a>. The best news was no mechanical issues on the bike and no twinges of the calf, so it seems like that's healed up okay and I know how to bolt frames and forks and such together, which is nice. I evidently just need to now start getting the fitness back in, something I've been saying since the first race of the series back in November! The jog downhill at the end felt pretty good, and I'm always saying I need to get time back in on foot, so now with lighter nights I'm hoping to start trail running a little more. We'll see what happens come the last race of the series at Todmorden in a months time, the steep Calderdale valley sides are not going to be forgiving if I've not done a little bit of hill work I suspect...Carrick 'Pyro' Armerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08705410588749063217noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7020678.post-84076247287732763672016-02-15T07:24:00.001-08:002016-02-15T07:25:31.104-08:00Misadventure Racing: Open5 BlanchlandThird race of the <a href="http://www.openadventure.com/open5/">Open5 Series</a>, with some things changed, some kept the same, and a faintly interesting end result.<br />
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<i>The same: </i>I'd been kayaking the day before. Come on, I'm not changing that unless I absolutely have to. We'd had a good day on the Leven, though I took another swim at Backbarrow, which seems to have become an annoyingly bad habit recently. Poor line and a failure to roll, the latter being the more annoying part as I've actually worked on my rolling recently and re-outfitted the boat to help with that, and in the end didn't even try, just panicked and pulled the rip cord. Something to work on anyway.<br />
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<i>Different:</i> I've been struggling with a calf injury since just after the Slaidburn race, picked up at a parkrun while trying to get some actual training in. I wasn't even pushing hard, heading for a similar 'around 30min' pace when, at the 4km mark, I felt like someone had stabbed me in the back of the leg. So since then it's been a case of rest, ice, compression and gentle functional movement to try and recover without making anything worse.<br />
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I stayed at Edmundbyers YHA overnight, with a few other racers. Got a decent nights kip despite at least one snorer in the dorm (probably two once I'd dropped off...). Driving into Blanchland in the morning was a little skatey and skiddy in places, and despite thinking I'd never been there before I recognised the village. Turns out an old kayaking friend got married there a long time ago, and we made merry in the Lord Crewe pub and then us poor impoverished student kayakers who couldn't afford hotels or holiday cottages slept in our tents on the village playing field, apart from the one who'd broken his collarbone biking the morning of the wedding who got given the groom's brother's bed.<br />
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Anyway, leaving the half-recalled drunkenness aside, there had been snow during the Saturday afternoon and evening and a freeze overnight, but the morning itself was bright and calm with the odd snow shower and squall. Joe Faulkner and <a href="http://www.nav4.co.uk/">Nav4 Adventure</a> were providing the catering, so I grabbed a coffee and a Danish and settled down with the maps to delay my start a little bit. Early starters would have the joys of both trailbreaking through the four inches of snow on the higher trails and risking ice on more major tracks and roads. I set off about 9:25 and reckon that was about premium; the snowy trails were compacted enough to be firm but without having yet turned slushy and muddy, and any ice on the tarmac was thawing and becoming less of a hazard.<br />
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Because of the weather and the leg issue, I changed my gameplan for the day and biked first rather than running, reasoning that if I ran first and blew my calf up, it would knacker both disciplines, whereas if I got a good long bike loop done in a decent time I could take a token leisurely stroll round a couple of run checkpoints to validate that section and not risk further injury. That worked out well, and kit choice did as well, no issues again, with enough layers to stay warm without overheating. There was a pretty wide temperature difference through the day, alternating between cold grimaces while pushing through the snow squalls and enjoying the sunshine and blue skies between them. Technically, I had a couple of minor chainsuck issues late on on the bike, but I'm sure that was just mud and snow gunking up the drivetrain and nothing like as bad as the Muker race.<br />
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Bike: <a href="http://www.mapmyride.com/workout/1347038733/">http://www.mapmyride.com/workout/1347038733/</a><br />
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Had problems with my bike GPS turning itself off mid-ride, think it twisted on my stem while I was pushing at some point and the power button pushed on the bolt for my map board, but this is the route and the relevant time. The route itself worked out well, did the major climbs on tarmac and/or good gravel track, descended on the rougher stuff. Could be faster if I was fitter, as always, but tactically and technically no mistakes this time, which is nice to say. Following some of the smaller trails would have been hard for the first off, the moorland singletrack would have been nearly indistinguishable under the snow. A couple of judgement calls about which direction to take certain loops worked in my favour and I cleared all bar one of the bike checkpoints in 3:42. The one I dropped looked like a bit of a deathmarch, a 3-4km of out-and-back moorland singletrack, worth 30 points but likely to have been slow going.<br />
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Run: <a href="http://www.mapmyride.com/workout/1347040565/">http://www.mapmyride.com/workout/1347040565/</a><br />
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My transition wasn't too slow, sub 5mins, and the plan to take it steady worked out well as there were four CPs making for an easy sub-5km loop without too much climb. The tarmac up to the first two was patchy with ice, so taking it gently worked well, then a slippy, muddy field-edge bridleway linked across to the third, with tarmac and then a lovely clear wooded trail to the final one on a waterfall just outside the village. I jogged gently on the flat and down to test the muscle a bit, backed off if it twinged and just enjoyed the stroll. Made it back well in time, 4:48 in total, having enjoyed the day at a pretty steady trot.<br />
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Got myself changed and then headed back to the hall to download and eat (soup, chilli, flapjack and coffee, thanks again Joe!), and ended up surprised that I'd actually scored higher here than I have in either of the previous two races, obviously the enforced tactical change paid off, and I probably made pushier choices on the bike rather than playing it safe and dropping CPs. I just need to keep rehabbing the leg and try to build the fitness (as always!) before Lowther in March.Carrick 'Pyro' Armerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08705410588749063217noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7020678.post-90450786124299735502016-01-11T11:19:00.001-08:002016-02-15T07:25:31.107-08:00Misadventure racing: Open5 SlaidburnThird race of the Open5 series, but second one of the season for me. I was entered for the North Wales event in December but had been suffering with a horrific cough that I couldn't shift, so decided to save my health and skip it. Kind of glad I did, as I only managed to shake the cough in the last week before Christmas after a fair amount of rest.<br />
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Anyway, lessons learnt from the first race of the season, I remembered my watch for this one. Not sure I was any better prepared, I threw together some bits of kit the night before, had at least tried to sort some of the mechanical problems I'd had last time out, and hadn't been out on the lash 48hrs before the start. I <i>had </i>been kayaking the day before, because some things never change and kayaking is fun. Kit worked out well again: Buff, bib shorts, 3/4 tights, base layer and a thicker jersey. Waterproof stayed on for the entire day, as a windproof layer more than waterproofing (there were only occasional showers), wool socks (Woolie Boolies) and my old Wave Harriers for the run, waterproof socks (from Mapdec) and my SPD shoes for the bike.<br />
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Run - <a href="http://www.mapmyride.com/workout/1305492129">http://www.mapmyride.com/workout/1305492129</a><br />
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'Run' is still a bit of an optimistic term, but this one went better. I neglected to wear my compression calf guards, which might explain the horrible tight achilles pain I had both during and after the section (and still have the evening after), but I shuffled around anyway. The best part for me was no nav cock-ups, and I was much more decisive about setting a loop and sticking to it. At the Muker race I'd been very vague and picked the next CP on the fly, which combined with the lack of a watch, meant I wasted time and didn't actually get very far. One positive, that'll do. I'm still not in any sort of shape (apart from 'round'. Round is definitely a shape), so I'm contemplating one of the 'Couch to 10km' programs to get my backside out and about and try and build into things. At least I got my timing right, 1:45 was pretty much bang-on what I was aiming for, so I was happy with that.<br />
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Bike - <a href="http://www.mapmyride.com/workout/1305725287/">http://www.mapmyride.com/workout/1305725287/</a><br />
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Hindsight is a wonderful thing. I made one major mistake, towards the end, that cost me a bunch of points and a lot of time and energy. The majority of the route was grand, the CPs configured so those not looking to clear the course could pick a route that was predominantly tarmac with various dog-legs and out-and-backs to pick up CPs. I'd written off some of the further out checkpoints in favours of setting a fairly reasonable loop that I felt I could do in the time, which was grand. The 'hindsight' part comes in because, with some extra information about trail surface I could have easily got at least two if not three more CPs further out on the course. That would have also occupied some time and prevented the daftness I had at the end, where I decided to try and push up a horribly crap bridleway onto Dunsop fell which would have been easier to kayak down than ride or walk. I'd got to my planned penultimate CP with over an hour still on the clock. The choices were to stick with my plan and finish 30 points up and probably 30-40mins ahead of time, which would have been fine energy wise but annoying planning wise, or to gamble on making the 35 pointer on the fell top. I gambled and it didn't pay off. The bridleway was so humorously crap that continuing would have put me out of time, and by the time I'd realised this and turned around, coupled with a much worse linking bridleweay than I'd expected and failing energy reserves, I was cooked. I finished just ahead of time but failed to get either of the two possible CPs. Not the best end to what had been a pretty good day, but my own daft fault.<br />
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I love the 'score' format of the Open5 events, because it's easy enough to pick and choose your own route based on your ability and inclination. Apart from the daftness at the end, my route picking was pretty good, and I'm happy enough with that. I said this series was me trying to re-develop some bits over the winter, and I'm going to end up learning some lessons, even if those are mainly how unfit I am. Next up is Blanchland, County Durham, in February, so on we go.<br />
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Carrick 'Pyro' Armerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08705410588749063217noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7020678.post-4406613325210397032015-11-09T04:22:00.001-08:002016-02-15T07:25:31.102-08:00Misadventure racing: Open5 Muker.So, Sunday was my first race of the season. Okay, I'll admit it, it was first race in a very long time, so this will be my first race review in a while where I go "well, I was pretty rubbish yesterday..." (though I suspect not the last). It will also be very boring and factual. The race, for those concerned with these things, was the first of the Open5 adventure race series, 5 hours of run and bike score orienteering, based out of Muker in Swaledale. For the geographically challenged, Muker is a small village in a relatively steep-sided valley. That meant lots of up.<br />
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My race preparation involved: no training; a Chinese and a night of heavy drinking on Friday; a hangover, a day kayaking the Tyne, a curry and a night in a cold camping pod on Saturday; a coffee, a tea and a Danish pastry for pre-race nutrition. Because, you know, I'm one of those finely tuned Adventure Racer athlete types, obviously.<br />
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One of the small positives, though: I got my kit selection about right. Base layer top and tri shorts, bike jersey, gilet and arm warmers. 3/4 tights for the run, swapped for bike shorts for the ride and pulled on my waterproof at transition as well. Just as well I got it right, the weather was <b>bad</b>: intermittent showers and gusty winds on the run; heavier rain, horrible wind and fog on the bike, just to add a frisson of excitement. I was warm enough, but only just - the short enforced stop on the bike leg could have got nasty, but I managed to shelter myself a bit.<br />
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Run - <a href="http://www.mapmyride.com/workout/1243029169">http://www.mapmyride.com/workout/1243029169</a><br />
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'Run' is probably over-egging it a bit. It was a slow and steady plod. It's only now, plotting it into the computer, that I realise exactly <b><i>how</i></b> slow it was. I know I'm lacking in fitness, especially running-wise, but it definitely wasn't pretty. My route was generally okay, but I made a couple of nav cock-ups, missing a stile on the proper, if slightly vague, footpath and contouring on rough ground through some old quarries. Frankly, just a general lack of fitness and speed on foot was the main issue, though. I haven't been out for a run in a good while, so no surprises there.<br />
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Bike - <a href="http://www.mapmyride.com/workout/1243008357">http://www.mapmyride.com/workout/1243008357</a><br />
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The bike leg was a bit of a comedy of errors. The first couple of CPs went okay, but as I started the loop up from Ivelet the chain got gritty and I started getting chainsuck. Further up, the chainsuck got bad enough that I snapped the chain, I think breaking the original snaplink. Put in one of the fastest chain repairs of my life, because frankly it was cold, wet and miserable, and sitting still for any length of time got very unpleasant indeed. Carried on upwards but more chainsuck meant I was stuck to keeping the chain in the big ring <i>(24-38 double setup, for the techy geeks out there)</i> to keep tension on the chain, which meant the steeper climbs were a push. Started on the descent, feeling slightly glad I rode the loop clockwise - think the climb would have been a longer drag anticlockwise, but it's debatable - then had to stop part way down as my left crank had started working loose. Got back down to Ivelet in decent time, stopped just below the road junction to help a gent who'd also snapped his chain and was having trouble getting it sorted, re-tightened my crank again, then headed home as fast as I could go. Got in with just under five minutes to spare, so no penalty points, fortunately.<br />
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The later small positives were mainly seeing a few people afterwards, to have a chat and a cuppa, and to catch up with a few old friends. I didn't win anything, to my complete lack of surprise, but had a good natter and some excellent soup and chilli, courtesy of Joe Faulkner and Nav4 Adventure Catering. I'm entered for the full Open5 race series over this winter, one race a month, so I guess this is one down, five to go. I'm left with a lot to work on one way or another, but then again I always knew that would be the case. Onwards and outwards to the next one in North Wales in December!<br />
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PyroCarrick 'Pyro' Armerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08705410588749063217noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7020678.post-71188967752803768792014-09-22T07:34:00.004-07:002014-09-22T08:05:13.473-07:00Lakes full of Porage.Porage has always been a mixed experience for me. First of all it was this mythical, uber-elite invitational event, shrouded in secrecy and wreathed in misinformation and rumour. Then in 2006 I got invited and I became part of its own little world of pain and oddness.<br />
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My Porage record is not a good one:<br />
<b>Dundee 2006</b>: Rode with Lesley, awesome day out, big crash, timed out at pub, driven to finish.<br />
<i>Placing: Joint last.</i><br />
<b>Pennines 2008:</b> Rode solo, physical hell across Bowes Moor, driven between feed stations 1 and 2, awesome descent of High Cup Nick to finish.<br />
<i>Placing: Last.</i><br />
<b>Strathaven 2010:</b> Rode with Ross, awesome day out, snapped rear mech, driven to finish.<br />
<i>Placing: Last.</i><br />
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Usually, being recurrently last at an event would be a bad thing, but the calibre of riders invited to Porage pretty much means I will always be at or near the bottom of the results, and I've no problem with that - hell, I'm chuffed just to still be getting an invite - but you'll note in that little hat-trick that I'd never managed to cross the line without getting a lift somewhere. And that niggled me. I said at the end of my Strathaven Porage blog <i>"I'll complete the next one",</i> but that was 4 years ago and I'm not in the shape I was then. I'm a touch more 'padded', shall we say.<br />
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Being the South Lakes this year it was pretty obvious there were going to be some big old climbs and descents. I'd had a handful of longer rides over the past 6 months - the Jennings Rivers Ride at 38 miles, the Rhinog Raptor Adventure-X at 44, a ride up the Wharfe valley to Dent at 64 - so I was happy enough with another long, slow day in the saddle, and that's probably better prep than I'd had for any other Porage event. Ross and I had chatted about riding together again, since the company definitely helps on these kind of things, though his preparation was marred by his mountain bike wheels getting nicked from his garage a few days before the event. A spare set was donated, and we were back on.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vsclHyVRvEE/VCAyC-_65AI/AAAAAAAACMc/VLvgjIymeSY/s1600/IMG_20140917_185625_103-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vsclHyVRvEE/VCAyC-_65AI/AAAAAAAACMc/VLvgjIymeSY/s1600/IMG_20140917_185625_103-1.jpg" height="452" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My bike, not Ross's.</td></tr>
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We started from Brathay Hall with the usual briefing and Porage Oath, and then a short Score-O leg to split the riders up. I navigated, Ross wrote down the CP answers, and we trotted round in a reasonable mid-pack time, before picking up the bikes and heading out onto the road. Looking at the first stage map it sufficed to say the climbs were going to be brutal and the descents superb, just as we expected. We lost a little time in a humanitarian effort on the first descent, when we came across Roger, Zoe and Ed patching up Beth after a really nasty crash. We helped check her over and then walked with her and Roger out to Skelwith Bridge for a pickup. Onwards through Elterwater on a modified route, to Cathedral Quarry and the first activity: Candle-lit caving. Ross, Roger and I bimbled our way through the tunnels, eventually emerging blinking into daylight, Helen had sorted our maps for us as we stumbled around in the dark, and we set off again, Roger soon dropping the two of us bimbling along at the back.<br />
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From there, via Hodge Close, Oxen Fell, Iron Keld into Hawkshead, grinding the climbs and Ross admitted he was suffering. We knew we were on a shortened route, having missed CPs on the first stage and being advised to skip more on this one - an extra loop round High Wray and Claife Heights - but he was talking of withdrawing once we made it to the next manned point at Grizedale, which was a bit disheartening. The climb out of Hawkshead into the woods was a bit of a shocker, and as we started the descent down the North Face trail we kept separating. I thought I'd carry on, ride at my own pace and wait for him at the cafe, at least if he withdrew at that point there was hot food and potentially a lift back to Ambleside. I arrived, grabbed some hot food from the cafe and a much needed cup of tea and waited... and waited... and walked back up the trail... and came back down... and turned on my phone to a text message telling me he'd continued following the TNF Trail arrows beyond the cafe and out further onto the loop. Realising his mistake, he'd started heading back but was running on fumes and going to retire. I didn't see him again from there until the finish, but I hoped he was alright. As it turned out, he eventually got back to the cafe, ate his fill and then limped back to Ambleside along the road.<br />
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I lobbed another tea down my neck as the marshals chatted with the organisers by phone and then advised myself, Ed and Zoe of a best-option short route. The main route ran west over to the shores of Coniston Water before looping back East to Newby Bridge and Fell Foot. Riders a bit ahead of us were taking a more direct route to Newby Bridge, but even then, at our pace we'd still be at the back once we got there. After a chat I headed off on the best 'get you back in amongst it' route, due East from Grizedale over a rocky, horrible push of a climb, onto forest road and then a sweet, technical descent to Esthwaite, then tarmac through Near and Far Sawrey and down to the Windermere ferry. A short wait, another cup of tea, followed by a bottle of water and the realisation that I'm craving tea because I'm really quite dehydrated. Ed and Zoe arrive behind me just as the ferry lands. Over the other side, we chaingang along the main road south and then a short sharp shock climb up to Ghyll Head and the next challenge: Archery! I managed to hit the board with 5 out of 6 arrows, and scored a faintly respectable score, troughed down some flapjack, and got on the go again. A few people came and went since we were back in the middle of the pack coming up from Fell Foot, and it was nice to have a chat as they arrived/passed me again, since I was now ostensibly solo again.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6hoTyqrus9k/VCA6Ndw-NII/AAAAAAAACM8/fAX8rSmpbgI/s1600/PorProf.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6hoTyqrus9k/VCA6Ndw-NII/AAAAAAAACM8/fAX8rSmpbgI/s1600/PorProf.png" height="180" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A lot of up and down</td></tr>
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The next leg across to Staveley started well, a gentle climb up the road and then off across a grassy trail and gravel track towards Crook, when the wheels (at least metaphorically) started to fall off. I was deliberately skipping one checkpoint to avoid a nasty descent and climb, but the gradual grind that replaced it, along the main road from Mitchelland to Crook itself, cooked me. I stopped in a driveway and ratched through my bag, marvelling at the amount of food I'd brought but not eaten, and set about eating a good chunk of it, contemplating an inglorious departure from the event at the next manned point. I always have these lows on events, and more often than not they're nutrition related, but riding on my own doesn't help. I ate a while longer, set off for more wobbly pottering, and then had a quick stop to take a photo of a llama, for humour value more than anything else. Some of my favourite adventures have featured llama in the cast list somewhere. I don't know why.<br />
<br />
I eventually made it through to Staveley and was greeted at the CP with "Would you like water, soup, or a beer?" All of the above please, in that order. A couple of glasses of water first, a cup of lovely lentil soup, some more food out of my drop bag since it was there (cold pizza!), and then settled in to a bottle of Cumberland Ale. I was all set to withdraw from the event here, and pulled on my arm warmers and gilet to help keep warm while I was waiting, while others came and went on what turned out to be quite a long foot orienteering section.I realised that, because of the short cuts I'd taken, even suffering as I had been, I was still in the middle of the pack. I could set off on a short route home and could still make it back in a reasonable time and, hopefully, state. The last part of the ride was the bridleway descent through Skelghyll Woods and Jenkin Crag, which is a bit of a classic, and once I found that out it was sort of essential to keep going.<br />
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I won't say that the cloud lifted and I suddenly became a riding god again (as if i ever was in the first place), but I kitted up and headed out again, just wanting to get home and enjoy the finish. I aimed for what looked like the easiest straight line home, along the cycleway out of Staveley and then up the road through Mislet, over the Trout Beck and up to Town End, to the old Post Office, then West towards High Skelghyll and stopped to take a quick photo of the sunset over Windermere. Standing on the hill, looking down over the lake, glad I'd ridden on, eagerly anticipating the ride back - a million mental miles from how I'd felt at Crook. Just the way these things go.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FePwkt_sIxs/VCAyEw1vJXI/AAAAAAAACMk/RIltfvy0YQ4/s1600/IMG_20140921_200055.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FePwkt_sIxs/VCAyEw1vJXI/AAAAAAAACMk/RIltfvy0YQ4/s1600/IMG_20140921_200055.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunset over Windermere</td></tr>
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I'd picked my headlight battery up at Staveley and was glad of it as the trail turned downwards and dropped into the woods. Past a couple of surprised walkers coming up the path, lights on and adjusted and trying to pick out a decent line through the multitude of cracked bedrock lumps. A crash at this point would have been painful, awkward and embarrassing, but wanting to rail the last descent as quickly as possible meant balancing speed and caution. I often went for the side of speed and just tried to spot lines that seemed less likely to end up with me being ejected over my own handlebars, and silently thanked whoever convinced me that 29” wheels were a good idea. Spat out onto tarmac at last, with a massive grin on my face, I trucked through the streets of Ambleside headed for Clappersgate and Brathay. Andy, the third place 'full course' finisher, appeared behind me as I got to Brathay's driveway so I tried to keep pace with him up to the bunkhouse and what turned out to be one final challenge: the Pamper Pole. Simply harness up, climb a ladder and then staples up a 20-odd foot telegraph pole, step up from the last staples onto the top of it - like that's a simple act of balancing when you've been riding for 10 hours and have a bad case of the disco legs - turn round 180° and then jump off. Yes, that's right, jump off. Aim to touch the big inflatable ball that's hanging level with you, but 10 feet away.<br />
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Like the whole day, a bit of a leap of faith. I'm glad to say I made it, on both counts. I finished my first Porage with no external mechanical assistance. I'd short coursed a lot, I admit, but had still taken in a fairly epic 70km of riding, plus the orienteering, caving and archery. A lot of up and down, physically and mentally, but a great day out and one I’m really glad I managed to finish.<br />
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A big thank you to Paul, Helen, Sally and Ant for organising, and to all the helpers and marshals. I’m looking forward to next year now.<br />
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As a well done for reading this far, I’ll leave you all with a picture of a llama:<br />
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<br />Carrick 'Pyro' Armerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08705410588749063217noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7020678.post-85097612533217646582014-07-16T03:29:00.000-07:002014-07-16T03:29:45.306-07:00Remembering how to suffer.It's an oft-used phrase in road riding, Tour de France commentary etc: "He knows how to suffer". The truth is, everyone knows how to suffer, but a big part of any endurance sport is knowing (or at least learning) how to suffer and yet keep moving; How to accept the suffering and still push forward in spite of it. A skill I think I've possessed at intervals, but perhaps forgotten in the last couple of years. A skill I need to re-learn.<br />
<br />
This weekend was one of remembering how to suffer for me. I'm working on getting back in shape, getting some miles back in the legs before Porage in September, getting some weight off and doing myself a few favours. I've built my cyclocross bike up and have been trying to use it more, I've got comfortable with being juddered around on a set of Midge bars, braking from the drops and trying to hang on to my teeth on rough sections. I even took it out for a spin around Llandegla forest's 'True Blue' route on Saturday to shake the legs out and get used to typical man-made trails on it. But Sunday was the real challenge - the <a href="http://www.ratherbecyclingevents.co.uk/events/rhinog-raptor/">Rhinog Raptor Adventure-X event</a>.<br />
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The Adventure-X events are a sort of cyclocross sportive, long haul mixed on-/off-road routes designed for 'cross bikes or hardtail MTBs. The Raptor was based out of Coed y Brenin trail centre and had two possible routes, a 62 mile 'Massif' route and a 44 mile 'Mini Massif'. I'd offered to help the organisers (<a href="http://www.ratherbecyclingevents.co.uk/">Rather Be Cycling</a>) out with Registration first thing and then have a ride round the 'Mini' as a sweep rider. I'd also seriously underestimated the amount of climbing on route, which, frankly, led nicely to some of the pain I experienced later on. This blog may possibly read like a catalogue of errors, to be honest.<br />
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A not-great night's sleep and a 5am start kicked the suffering off nicely. I was on site at the Coed y Brenin centre by half-past and sorting out remaindered signage by quarter-to, and a couple of cereal bars and a coffee served as breakfast (probably Mistake #1). Registration kicked off in a typically laid back fashion and we gradually got people through, sorted and ready for the off, while slowly kitting up and nibbling bits of food ourselves. Just after 9am, Kevin and I rolled down to the start line to get briefed by Chez and set off as the backmarks, he for the Long and I for the Short.<br />
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Mistake 2 was probably going out a bit too hard. The first section of the MinorTaur trail is nice, swoopy, Blue-grade singletrack, and easy to push hard and carry a lot of speed through, especially on a CX bike. We cracked along, probably a wee bit quicker than we really should have, out through the early berms and little whoops and drop-offs, enjoying the easy speed, something you don't quite get on 2-inch-plus MTB tyres. Having caught the last two riders, we tucked in behind and settles in for the relatively easy spin down to Dolgellau, chatting away as we bimbled along, punctuated only by one slow puncture on my front tyre (pumped it up and kept going) and one fast puncture for a rider (changed tube quickly and kept going). So far, so funky.<br />
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The gentle spinning continued, after I'd taken a couple of minutes at Dolgellau to chat to one of the event medics and change the tube in my front tyre - the slow puncture was getting quicker. A nice spin along the Mawddach Trail, down the river side, and caught up with Kevin and the previously punctured rider sat with yet another puncture. We wandered back to a nearby car park to RV with Gav in one of the support vans to grab a spare tyre, and while waiting and stripping the rear tyre in anticipation we found the issue, a small shard of glass embedded in the casing, which had pushed through as the rider crossed a cattle grid. We managed to scrat it out of the tyre, loaded the spare tyre and tube from Gav into my pack as a backup, tweaked the gents V-brakes for good measure as one was binding, and set off again along the old railway line, towards the sea and the wooden toll bridge at Penmaenpool, across the bridge and a nice roll along to the main road crossing at Pen-y-Bryn.<br />
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From here, the pain began. The backroad up to Taicynhaeaf is steep and twisty, and the forestry road above it climbs pretty much endlessly. The next 7km climbed 365m, and my legs ran out of steam trying to wrench a 34-32 low gear up it. The only small mercy was that the track was dry and relatively smooth, so there was less technical thrutching and more sat-down grinding going on. Graham O'Hanlon, an acquaintance from way, way back, was waiting with the event medic at the top marshalling point and we shot the breeze while I stuffed Jelly Babies and electrolyte down my neck to try and recoup some of the energy and salt deficit from the climb. We then powered on, through a wee bit more climb, Graham waiting for me at the summit proper (this became a very much a theme for the day, he's in better shape than me and was on an MTB) and then straight into a fairly raucous 10km of descending.<br />
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Another mistake: Maybe the descents were something I hadn't factored into my energy levels. To keep my backside from getting hammered into next week by the saddle, I had to 'hover' over the bike and let it buck around underneath me on the rough sections. I underestimated in a few places how much doing that for a prolonged period takes out of your thighs. I tried to stay loose and not death-grip the bars either, but balancing the available speed with the desire to float over stuff and not pinch flat the 35mm tyres is a skill I'm going to have to get used to, 14+ stone of rider and 'floating' are not things that go together easily, so not only were the climbs beating me up, so were the descents. So much for a 'gentle spin'.<br />
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We rolled back into Coed y Brenin, through the underpass from where the old trail centre used to be, the roughest bit of the course so far and too narrow to carry any speed to 'float' over the sharp pointy cobbles. Back into the start/finish/feed station area for water, Jaffa Cakes and Flapjack, a quick natter with Chez to sort out some bits and we were off again. Again, probably a bit too fast along MinorTaur, enjoying the singletrack far too much, and then onto the tarmac and forest road drag up, and up, and up, and up...<br />
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If the first major climb was 'endless', I don't know how I'd categorise the second one. There were a few short downs, but the whole thing was mainly up: 8km of pretty much continual climb, average 3% gradient, steepest section at 11% gradient. I ground away on the pedals as much as I could, and occasionally admitted temporary defeat and walked. At which point a blister started developing on my right heel, so when that got too painful I got back on and tried to ride again. A brief stint on tarmac, even a little bit of downhill, and we met up with Gav and the support van, marshalling the point where the two routes crossed each other. I toddled in looking a bit punch-drunk, I suspect, and Gav delivered on his earlier promise of saving me a Breakaway biscuit. In fact, he saved me three. I guess he (rightly) assumed I needed the sugar. I'm not sure whether 'Breakaway' was a cycling-related pun or not.<br />
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I was hoping for a gentle cruise from here but it wasn't to be. There was another major climb to be conquered. From the crossing point we got a brief descent and a gentle meander along the upper reaches of the Afon Gain, then turned right and up again, towards the saddle between Foel Boeth and Moel y Feidiog, across the former Trawsfynydd Artillery Range. Signs still tell you to keep off the moors, the National Parks rushed through an exemption to the CROW Act to stop people getting their legs blown off by previously unexploded ordnance. I don't blame them. I fell into an almost military forced march as I trudged my way towards the high point of the ride, pushing more and more as my legs got worse and worse and the gradient cranked up and up. The last kilometre, a nasty little sting in the tail, nearly finished me off. I finally reached the top, Graham far, far ahead of me and waiting. I’d sucked down an energy gel on the way, and it hadn’t helped at all, I was running on fumes. The majority of the remainder was descent and flat, but there were a few climbs left to go, and they weren’t going to be pleasant.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ngbb-nbCwHk/U8ZSmmhLhbI/AAAAAAAACJ0/sGB6D6PwJ8c/s1600/Raptor+Elev.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" closure_lm_532963="null" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ngbb-nbCwHk/U8ZSmmhLhbI/AAAAAAAACJ0/sGB6D6PwJ8c/s1600/Raptor+Elev.png" height="252" vua="true" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Many, many sections of 'up'.</td></tr>
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The descent down through the forestry road was great, again, giving my thighs a malleting, but good to get some distance in with gravity assist. Far too soon we got spat out at the re-join of the two routes and had a quick chat with the guys marshalling there. Down into the valley, over the Mawddach again, and one last major climb, one I’d probably despatch fairly easily if it came earlier in the ride, but yet again, one that had me grovelling. We eventually summited it, soft pedalling onto the forest road above Capel Hermon and into the final stretches. I started sucking down my emergency packets of Haribo to keep me rolling, and just tried to focus on getting to the line. One little descent finally proved my lack of ability to ‘float’ the bike when tired, and I pinch flatted the rear tyre. We stopped, I stripped the wheel off, sat down and could feel my thighs cramping. I was out of electrolyte so I’d just have to suck it up. New tube in the tyre, CO2 inflator applied, back in the frame and we were off again.<br />
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I can’t remember much of the last few kilometres. I soft pedalled, walked, plodded, sucked back Haribo and listened to Graham tell me about the history of Coed y Brenin and the stories behind some of the trail names. My responses were probably reduced to grunts. Eventually, the line hove into sight and I used the last bits of a failing reserve to put in a cheeky little burst past Graham. He swore loudly, kicked again and pulled level with me. We crossed the line side by side in formation. I just about fell off my bike, was presented with a finisher’s medal, and went in search of cake.<br />
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So much of that story reads like I didn’t enjoy the day; that would be wrong, I had a fantastic day out. The ride route, while brutally hard for me, was as beautiful as it was painful. I’d ridden at Coed y Brenin before, but only ever on the waymarked trails in the forest itself. To escape that, to see amazing sights like the Penmaenpool toll bridge, to climb out of the forest onto the wild moorland of the Artillery Range, to learn a bit about the area history, to catch up on gossip and reminisce with an old acquaintance; all superb moments of a superb day. Yes, I re-learned what suffering on a bike is like, and I feel like I’m still paying for it 3 days later. But I did it in a beautiful place, on a fantastic event, with a lovely group of people. Definitely worth the pain, definitely worth the somewhat arduous drive home, even worth the huge quantity of coffee and junk food I had to shovel down my neck at a motorway services to get me through that drive home. Another relatively big adventure, and a cracking weekend. <br />
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Many, many thanks to all of the event crew, especially Chez and Gav for inviting me over and Graham for looking after me!Carrick 'Pyro' Armerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08705410588749063217noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7020678.post-76646711025898007012014-05-26T08:54:00.003-07:002014-05-26T09:23:37.636-07:00Jennings Rivers Ride 2014I've never done a 'sportive' before. I'm not really a road rider, to be honest. I own a road bike - well, a cyclocross bike with slick tyres - and ride it occasionally for commuting and pottering around, but aside from road stages in multisport races I don't really ride on the road. Same reason as not running on the road a lot, I think: I find it dull. I like the technical challenge of mountain biking, the variance in surface and skill level required keeps it interesting. Road biking doesn't really have that, for me. <br />
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So, there was a bit of trepidation in getting ready for the <a href="http://www.cumbriafoundation.org/riversride/"> Jennings Rivers Ride</a>. I'm not particularly fit at the moment - I'm a couple of stone heavier than I should be, and while I'm still kayaking a fair amount I'm not getting out to run or bike as much as I should do. I'd been entered to ride with my Dad, but hip and leg problems meant he was out, and I'd not managed to find anyone to take his place. The route I was booked onto was a 38 miler (map below) from Keswick, out to Cockermouth, over Whinlatter and then round the top of Derwentwater, which gives some lovely back roads to ride but one sod of a climb in the middle. I've had my road/CX bike - the Cotic X frame I bought from Wayne at <a href="http://www.edsbikes.co.uk/">EDS Bikes</a> a while back - built up for a while but not done any longer rdes on it, just the odd bit of commuting. I'm running a compact double cyclocross chainset, but knowing the problems with gearing I had on the road stage of the Scottish C2C (not having a low enough climbing gear), I was hoping the 11-32 MTB cassette would be enough for me. Not that there would be much sense blaming the gearing, the simpler solution would just have been to be fitter...<br />
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I dropped in to Keswick on my way up from Leeds on Saturday to register and pick up my number and timing chip, had a quick chat with Chez (the organiser) and got myself sorted out. I was staying at home for the weekend and Mum was away up in Glasgow so Dad and I adjourned to the local for dinner and a couple of pints. After a bit of kit faff, a decent night's sleep (and a slight over-sleep in fact. I'd set my alarm for 6:30 and actually woke up about 7... oops), a light breakfast and a bit more kit faff, I was off towards Keswick to to set up and get going.<br />
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The weather forecast was good for the morning but set to deteriorate badly after lunch, so most of the kit faff was around what I needed to both wear and to be carrying. I set off just before 8:30 with bib shorts, jersey, arm warmers, windproof gilet and a Buff on, and with a waterproof jacket shoved in my jersey pocket. The run through to Castle Inn was smooth enough, undulating rather than hilly, and a road I know well enough, having been along it pretty much every day of my secondary school life. The few short climbs on that stretch and along the back of Setmurthy towards Cockermouth were hurting my thighs a touch, so it seemed like I'd dropped my seat a bit low when I was tweaking the bike. The descent towards Cockermouth Hospital was a welcome break and we soon turned up towards the school and the first feed station - 16 miles out of the way in about 1:10, not too bad. <br />
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I opted not to hang around too long at the feed stations, Adventure Racer mentality I guess. A lot of people seemed to be spending a chunk of time there, whereas I think I was in and out in under 5 minutes at both stops. Cockermouth was a case of refill my water bottle, strip the gilet, Buff and arm warmers off since the day had warmed up, chuck a couple of chunks of flapjack down my neck and tweak by saddle height, then head off. The next stage was the daunting part, the meandering roll out of Cockermouth to Lorton then onto Whinlatter itself. I've ridden up the pass this way before, on the Solstice Triangle route many years ago, but that was on an MTB. I stuck a gel down my neck at the base and toiled up the first bit of the climb, but was forced to get off and push 50yds of the steepest section. A quick water fill/empty stop when the gradient eased off a bit and I was back on a trogging away towards the top. I managed to ride the rest, which surprised me a bit. A pleasant surprise though!<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fHXox4H5WRk/U4NqCPpKn-I/AAAAAAAACHA/c2iWvdH_u78/s1600/JRR1_0405_sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fHXox4H5WRk/U4NqCPpKn-I/AAAAAAAACHA/c2iWvdH_u78/s1600/JRR1_0405_sm.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Pic courtesy of Sport Sunday</i></td></tr>
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One of <a href="http://www.sportsunday.co.uk/">Sport Sunday</a>'s photographers was lurking at the top, just to get you when you're at your slowest and sweatiest, and just beyond him a big bunch of people were stopped, eating, drinking and celebrating conquering the climb... Which they hadn't finished. The road dips just after their meeting point, then climbs steeply up to the main road, and continues a gradual grind up to the Whinlatter visitor centre itself. I decided not to stop, just pushed on while I was warm. The short jab to the junction was a sod, but I was soon cranking steadily on towards the true summit. <br />
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At the visitor centre I decided it was a good time to have a quick break. A couple of mouthfuls of a Mule Bar and some water, a minute's breather to take in the fact that I'd done the hardest bit of the ride, and I was off again. The descent was fast and furious, and it's testament to the bike build that I was confident enough to get down into the drops and crank it all the way down the steepest bits of the pass. Descending it on the Solstice ride, on a slick-tyred MTB, I'd been hesitant to get the bike leaned over in the corners, but the Cotic felt awesome. I wish I'd had my bike computer on to see my speed stats, but I'd forgotten to pick it up when I left Leeds. I was certainly going fast enough that the disc brakes on the Cotic were getting a good workout, even more so when a very hesitant Volvo driver appeared as we hit Braithwaite and held myself and a couple of other riders up through the narrow section before the second feed stop.<br />
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Dad had come out to give me a bit of support, and having missed me at Castle Inn he'd driven to Braithwaite and was waiting at the turnoff to the feed stop. We had a quick natter while I was refilling my bottle and stuffing a flapjack down my neck, but again, I'd decided not to stand still too long. The weather was looking good, though it was clouding over a touch, so I left my waterproof with him and rolled out for the last 10 miles. There was one short sharp shock climb, up the hairpins by Hawes End onto the end of Catbells, but that out of the way, the roll along the hillside towards Manesty was beautiful, sun out and a fantastic view across Derwent Water. Soon, I was at Grange and, just over the bridge, the sign said "Keswick 4 miles": A sight for sore eyes. <br />
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I'd been riding fairly close to two guys wearing Iggesund jerseys, Iggesund being the paperboard factory I worked at over summers when I was a student. I hooked into a group with them and a lady who'd been ahead of us and we picked up the pace back down the valley, past Lodore and Shepherds Cafe, having a quick chat about the factory and a couple of characters I'd worked with. Just beyond the Great Wood car park they gapped me on a short climb and I dropped off, looking behind to realise we'd dropped the lady as well, I kep the pace I was at, passing a small group as we came towards the Lake Road roundabout and swept round the corner by Booths onto the main street. The last stretch was in sight, stopped at the traffic lights first, but soon round onto Bank Street for the final short pull up to County Corner, onto Station Street and down to the finish by the Fitz Park gates. <br />
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I walked down over the timing mats, stopping the clock at 3:16:47, much quicker than the 4hrs I'd estimated. I'm not saying I'm fitter than I thought I was, but it's nice to know I've still got the legs to get round a ride like that in a respectable time. Dad was waiting at the finish, so I handed my chip in, picked my time ticket up, and we wandered over to get my complimentary tea and cake first, then a quick change and into town itself for a well needed lunch. The weather had held off, and while it had clouded over, the much-feared rain had never hit, although the road back to Torpenhow was showing signs of some heavy showers as we drove back home.<br />
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All in all a cracking day. The route was fantastic, well waymarked and planned. All the marshals were great, happy and helpful, whether signposting a split, managing traffic and rider flow or manning a feed stop, and there was a great atmosphere in amongst the riders. We were also very lucky with the weather, which always helps! It's definitely an event I'd happily ride again, not to try and beat a time or go for a longer course on necessarily, but just for a hard-but-enjoyable day's riding. I don't think it'll tempt me to go full Roadie, but I should really get more miles in for my own good, and maybe the road bikes a good way to do that occasionally... Hmmm...<br />
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<br />Carrick 'Pyro' Armerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08705410588749063217noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7020678.post-75041154475244184212014-03-24T07:20:00.001-07:002014-03-24T07:20:53.704-07:00On Progress'Progress' is a bit of a funny one. Business can talk about 'SMART' aims <i>(Specific, Measurable, Achievable, Relevant, Time-linked)</i>, but in the world of the Outdoors, we don't really do those. We don't normally set aims, we don't really closely monitor our progress, we don't have personal development plans, we don't do increments. So what do we do when we recognise a problem and want a long-term, hardwired, resilient solution to that issue? <br><br>
The root of my paddling issues I've covered at length on here, so you know the problem. Obviously I needed to improve my technical skills and my confidence, so I started keeping a live log of my river days and making notes: What went well, what went not so well, how I felt on the river, what I think I need to work on. That's coupled with one of my <a href=http://pyrosyard.blogspot.co.uk/2013/01/the-long-and-winding-river.html>3 aims</a> from a while back, to pass my 4*, and I have a 4* profiling sheet, so I can look at my progress against the things I need to do. I've still got Kelvin, the coach's, notes from my training, back in December '12, and they're a useful guide of what someone else thought of my paddling, at a time when I was probably beating myself up about it a lot.<br><br>
My log is into it's fourth year of boating now. What's noticeable? Progression, physically and mentally. It's kind of heartening to see it spread out the way it is, and to look at the issues I had back in 2011. Going from notes like <i>"Generally okay, silly swim on Dog Leg (weight balance wrong, stuck on boil line)"</i> to <i>"Great fun. Chilled out run, nice surfing and steady work on eddies and ferries."</i> The root of it was the club's Wales weekend back in 2011, that seemed to be the time I first sort of pushed myself back into boating and maybe realised how much I'd dropped away. And, perhaps, how much I wanted to get back into it.<br><br>
One of the interesting things is the number of days paddling I have done over the past few years. 2011, when this all started, I only got 12 sections of river in 11 days paddling over a year. I was training for the Grand Raid des Pyrenees and, while I still did a lot of pool sessions and polo, my river boating days were utterly minimal. 2012 was better, 22 sections over 21 days. Still not exactly a royal flush, but a massively better hand than the year before, but it did include my 4* training which started the next phase of recovery. After that, 2013 was kind of my breakthrough year, 37 sections over 30 days paddling, and probably the biggest single progression impact, <a href=http://pyrosyard.blogspot.co.uk/2013/07/2013-alpine-odyssey.html>the Alps trip</a>. As I said at the time, you can almost *feel* the progression when you can run similar sections day-on-day for a fortnight. The three sections that we ran twice, Upper Guisane, Gyronde and the Briancon Gorge, I felt noticeably better and happier on on our second run even though the two runs were only 5 days apart at most. Partially because of that, I'm going back to the Alps this year and I'll be interested to see what my log says for this time round.<br><br>
The general gist of the whole thing, if I were to plot 'how things went' on a graph, is a nice upwards trend. Things have been gradually getting better, and that's awesome. It's interesting, though, to look at the outliers and blips too, the days when I've felt bad, when I've not bothered, when I've paddled badly. In some cases, like the Tyne Tour and at least one day on the Washburn, it's been beer-related - paddling with a hangover was never my forte in the past, and it continues not to be. In a couple of cases bad days have been kit-related - forgetting the hip wedges for my boat, having a bust drysuit zip. But mentally my worst days have been when I've felt I was the weakest paddler in a group, and when I was paddling new sections. The days, like Sunday just gone on the Lune, when I'm coaching or leading on a section I know well, I'm invincible (well, not quite, but you get the idea). New sections where I'm following, like the Gloy over New year, I struggle. Everything about that river put the shakies up me, even though it was the kind of low-ish volume, fast, micro-eddied technical beck paddling that I quite like. I paddled with Mike and Duncan as a trio, two people I haven't paddled with regularly, if that makes any difference. I paddled at the back, worried, fretted and inevitably made a couple of cockups - nothing major, no swims, no rolls - and generally felt a bit out of my depth. I got down the river but there was nothing stylish or smooth about it, I felt like a complete numpty.<br><br>
Those are the type of days I said I wanted to avoid, so what could I have done: Not got on the river? I did enough no-boat days over the New Year trip, the levels were ridiculously high and I wasn't happy in my own abilities on flows like that, that's something to work on though. Paddled at the front more? That's a possibility, forcing myself to up my game and lead more might have helped. Paddled with a different group? That shouldn't matter, I shouldn't be deriving my own worth from my perception of others. I've said this for a while, other people's skill levels might define the order we paddle but shouldn't define *how* we paddle. <br><br>
Why a river within my skill level should affect me so much based on the company I've kept I'm really not sure. I've no definitive answer for that one yet, and I'm not really sure there is one. I'll keep logging my days, looking at my data and, judging by the progress I've made in the past 3 years, I'm sure I'll work it out sometime.
Carrick 'Pyro' Armerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08705410588749063217noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7020678.post-68536228525814296202014-03-17T10:01:00.000-07:002014-03-17T10:26:05.665-07:00Response & Responsibility<br />
It's been a while since I posted up on here, but some stuff from the past few weeks got me thinking.<br />
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'Responsibility' is a bit of a funny word in the world at the moment. There's so many situations where it's both a good word and a bad word, a blessing or a curse. It would be too broad-brush to say that people don't like responsibility, but you do seem to see so many stories in the gutter press where '<i>responsibility</i>' equals '<i>liability</i>', equals '<i>fault</i>', equals '<b>blame</b>'. Unfortunate things happen, and people look for someone else to shoulder their burden for them, financially at least. Teams of no-win-no-fee lawyers wrangle and twist people's testimony to wring out every last penny, scrying for that tiny chink in the armour/crack in the pavement/missed paragraph in the training document to prod and jemmy until coins fall out. Okay, that's an over-the-top view, and I'd like to believe that the world isn't as full of rabid ambulance chasing lawyers as TV and the papers seem to say, but sometimes it's hard to hold on to that belief.<br />
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These thoughts all spring to mind because I'm often in a position where I am, effectively, taking some responsibility for other people. Whether that's as one of the Safety team organisers for the National Student Rodeo, as a coach and river leader with the Leeds Uni Canoe Club, or as a safety and sweep marshal for Rat Race, in some capacity I take some responsibility for other people's wellbeing, as well as my own. Frankly, that responsibility isn't something that crosses my mind very often, because 95% of the time that assumed responsibility never rears it's head. People I come into contact with in the world of outdoor sports are usually very cogniscent of their own responsibilities, they prepare properly, they have the right kit, they are aware of their fitness to take part in whatever event or sport. So my responsibility only arises when something goes wrong, and when that person is, in some capacity, less able to take sole responsibility for their own wellbeing. When zemblanity occurs. When, as they say, shit happens.<br />
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So why do I do it?<br />
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Frankly, I put myself in that position willingly because, like almost everyone else in the world, I am capable of assessing and judging the risks around me and making a personal judgement on whether I'm happy to accept those risks or not. Because, like most other people again, I'm capable of either mitigating those risks or simply removing myself from the situation if I'm not happy to accept them. Not necessarily because of qualifications or certificates I have (though they have helped), but because of knowledge I have and because of the confidence I have in my own skills and the kit I'm carrying, whether I'm carrying that kit for my benefit or someone else's. It's only a small step up from assessing those risks for myself to assessing those risks on behalf of myself and someone else, assuming that I'm there for a reason and that they're no longer in a position to mitigate those risks entirely on their own.<br />
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I don't do it for the buzz, for any kind of power trip or acclaim, though a 'thank you' and a 'well done' at the end of the day is always gratefully received. I sometimes sit at my post on these events and feel genuinely worried for some of the participants. I can manage my own fears and be confident I've mitigated and managed any risks to myself, I can hope they've done the same - contrary to some evidence, in a few cases - and I can hope they get a day of fun, either Type 1 or Type 2*, and feel happy and satisfied afterwards without ever needing my input. If I've spent a day bored, that's kind of fine.<br />
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If you're ever a participant in an event and you see the marshals and safety team around, give them a smile, and remember that for them it's often managed boredom. They are sitting doing nothing knowing that if they have to get up and do something, it's because some poor sod's in trouble. If they have to work, it's because bad things have happened, and if bad things have happened to a participant there, bad things could happen to the safety team there as well. They want to be busy, but wouldn't ever want to wish ill on anyone so they can actually do something, because that means maybe putting themselves at the same risk as the first person did. The second mouse isn't always after the cheese, sometimes it's trying to extricate the first one.<br />
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And they often do have to extricate that mouse, because a big part of adventure is taking risks. Doing something that scares you is often down to doing something where you're not sure whether you can mitigate every hazard out there, where there is a real fear that shit might, quite possibly, happen. Without the chance of shit happening there is no danger, there is no adrenaline response, there is no excitement. And that is, quite honestly, what a lot of us do these particular sports for. The feeling and the knowledge that we've pushed ourselves, because we've felt that adrenaline response, is what we're after, whether that's at the summit of a mountain, the bottom of a deep gorge, the landing of a jump.<br />
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But this isn't a treatise on risk management, irrational fear and adrenaline junkie-ism. It isn't comparing what we do in the outdoors to crossing the road in a 'safe' urban area. It isn't a lecture on kit choice and backups. It certainly isn't trying to convice people to turn to me when the excrement hits the air conditioning. It's just a rambling way of saying that, if you see me in the hills or on the river, I don't want to have to take responsibility on your behalf.<br />
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But I will do if I have to.<br />
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<i>*Type 1 fun - fun. </i><i>Type 2 fun - fun in hindsight. Type 3 fun - not really fun at all.</i><br />
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Carrick 'Pyro' Armerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08705410588749063217noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7020678.post-62006336442903398232013-07-09T16:03:00.000-07:002013-07-09T16:03:32.997-07:002013: An Alpine Odyssey<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is how it feels</td></tr>
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I've been meaning to write this up for a couple of weeks but hadn't got round to it. In all the hubbub since I got back, I've been gradually filtering through some of the stuff that I worked on and trying to process all the learning in amongst the fun. A bit like my camera taking a long time to process a long-exposure shot, it's taken me a while.<br />
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So, I went out to the Alps for a couple of weeks. It's not only the first time I had a 'holiday' holiday (as opposed to a working-on-events holiday) in a good few years, it's the first time I'd been away for a prolonged bout of boating in even longer. We headed out for the first two weeks in June, which also meant that, because of event work over most weekends, it was the first time I'd been in a boat in a couple of months. Plus, I was paddling with a bunch of (as I've phrased it before) 'gung-ho kiddies' all a good ten years my junior. Yes, I'm the old man of the group. But hey, it didn't cost anything to put me on the car insurance, did it? Age has its advantages...<br />
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I'm not going to go into the usual minute detail of each day and river, those are down in my river log and I've already picked them apart to see what I can learn. But some bits really stick out, at least to me!<br />
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The first day was nerve-wracking for me. While Oli, Tom and Simon had had a quick play on the Slalom course next to the campsite on the Saturday evening, Tash, Will and I were all pretty shot-at after the full day drive down from Calais so we'd left it. Sunday morning I had to keep reminding myself that the first run doesn't count, I was that shaky. Alpine rivers are fast, I knew that. Maybe it was the speed, the time off, etc etc. But I was excreting sizeable chunks of masonry either way. It took a while to adjust, but I started getting there - less moments of having my weight on the back of the boat, more controlled carving, faster ferries etc. Nothing revolutionary, but bit-by-bit improvements. All pretty good so far.<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0YaHkmQGaz0/UdyT8T-kXaI/AAAAAAAAB8Q/IgYHpi6eVWc/s1600/Blog-9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0YaHkmQGaz0/UdyT8T-kXaI/AAAAAAAAB8Q/IgYHpi6eVWc/s320/Blog-9.jpg" width="320" /></a>We'd talked as a group about what kind of stuff we were going to run, and the 'classics' were definitely on the register. A lot of grad 3/3+, though in comparison to the usual UK grade 3 that's a pretty meaningless number, few grade 3s in the UK have that much volume of water firing down them. The Lower Guil (Mont Dauphine Gorge) was a lovely cruising river, the Sunshine Run on the Durance was a great fun, if gentle, run with the sting in the tail - the Rabioux wave - that caught Tash out. I couldn't have been happier to make it through that one the right way up, knowing my roll was still a bit shaky.<br />
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We had a few moments of clashing and confusion on the Guisane - after spending an hour cutting a fallen tree out of it - when the whole 'eddy-hop' concept bypassed a couple of people - but it was a good run anyway. I portaged the S-Bend section, it looked like a lot of pinning potential for not a lot of gain. Though Oli and Will ran it and enjoyed it, my head wasn't there for it, and the walk-round was fine. The Gyronde had me going for every tiny micro-eddy and jet-cross with a massive grin on my face - what all those <a href="http://pyrosyard.blogspot.co.uk/2012/09/sunset-summer-sessions.html">nights on the Washburn</a> were training for, it seems. After we'd paddled down the lower-volume rock-dodge, the confluence with the Durance and the extra volume coming down the Slalom course was a wake-up call in itself. Lots of work on active blades and paddling aggressively needed to keep the boat running forward and the nose down. The group order had just kind of worked itself out - Tom led, usually Will seconding, Tash and Simon in the middle, then Oli or I bringing up the rear. Everyone seemed happy with that arrangement, and it worked well.<br />
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I took Wednesday off - tired old bones, I'm afraid - on the Wednesday and drove shuttle while watching the others run the Upper Guil. I guess that was the day where the group dynamic became visible to me, as I watched it from high up on the gorge wall, looking down at what looked like it could be a tricky, sticky little drop and seeing the guys come down, inspect, set up safety, probe, then run down as an amazingly well organised group. I felt proud, though I'd done little to influence any of it. Maybe it's just the 'being old' thing, feeling happy when the little'uns do a good job. Who knows.<br />
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Beth, Jamie and Rhi joined us on the Thursday night, along with Sarah, who's coming to Leeds Uni next year. They offered to run some slightly pushier stuff with us, so the next day we set off for the Briancon Gorge. I'd love to say that this was an awesome hit with me, but in the immediate aftermath it wasn't: It had pushed me, hard. I ran a lot of it right on the outer edge of my confidence and control, sometime a bit too reactively. I came out unscathed, no rolls, no swims, but it had pushed me right to the departure lounge of the comfort zone. Stood in the get-out layby I admitted as much, and felt a touch of relief flood over me, but also a wave of contentment: That was hard, but I did well, let's take from this what we can and keep learning.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beard wins race.</td></tr>
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We headed to the Onde after that, which honestly I don't remember too much of. It was a good run, I'm fairly sure, but tree hazards leading to a walk-off kind of marred it. Such is early-season Alpine boating I'm told. Saturday's run of the lower Claree was the much the same, fun but ended with a walk-off. Somewhere amongst this we did an Inflata-Cross race, paddling rubber rings, kids dinghies and a paddling pool down the Slalom course, which somehow I won, with a bunch of beers as a prize. Another day we drove over to the Souloise, Drac Blanc and Severaisse. I didn't paddle for head and body reasons: it was cold, I was tired and mentally not with it. I half wish I had, but wouldn't have wanted to be a liability and wasn't feeling right.<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tgseDSb-xJw/UdyT5vCQrPI/AAAAAAAAB8A/GaLE11ksfks/s1600/Blog-17.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tgseDSb-xJw/UdyT5vCQrPI/AAAAAAAAB8A/GaLE11ksfks/s200/Blog-17.jpg" width="133" /></a>The second week we started by heading back to some of the runs we'd done already, things we'd enjoyed and, since the levels were coming up a fair bit with the warm weather. A second run of the Gyronde (just in case there was a tiny micro-eddy I'd happened to miss somewhere) was a cracker, including boofing the weir we'd had to portage on the first go. The second run of the Upper Guisane was my kind of 'Bingo!' moment, nailing the S-Bend just perfectly, hitting a nice flare/boof at the bottom. I'd been hesitant at the top - though the extra water meant less of a pinning problem and it looked a lot nicer - but following Tom into the steep lead-in ramp, getting the first two or three moves out of the way, and then the instinct kicks in and everything just flowed, down to that bottom move, time the stroke just right and we're through. The words don't really express the feelings, but take my word for it, it felt awesome.<br />
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The Wednesday was another 'revisit something with a shedload more water in it'. Back to the Briancon gorge. Hmmm. The mindgames started running again: It had pushed me first time round, what would it be like with more water? I was on the edge of control last time, is it too much now? It took some fighting, mentally, but I got on, promptly missed the first eddy (as I had done last time round) and thought "oh Christ, here we go again..." How wrong I was.<br />
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Second time round it was an absolute blast. We ran as two groups of 4, and both groups went for the 'minimal eddy hop' option. The slide round the weir was good fun for a little kick of airtime, the landing a lot less bony than our first run. The crux section, where the river steepens and drops around a blind left-hand bend came up quickly, Oli skipped the eddy just above the curve and left me sitting higher up, on my own. Oh well, now for that gut check, then, I guess. I set off down, just trying to drive the boat through the waves and rocks, set up for the turn and the drops, and carve into the eddy at the bottom grinning like a crazy loon. Well worth getting on, well happy with the day, with a tangible feeling of progression. Not often you get that when your paddling days are weeks apart.<br />
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We had a rest day on the Thursday and went to do some bits of Via Ferrata and climbing at the crag below the clock tower in Argentiere. Climbing when it's 30+ degrees is a little silly. We spent the rest of the afternoon throwing fluids down our necks desperately trying to fight the dehydration. Still managed to do the small VF and second a couple of excellent shortish 5a graded climbs. But the initial plan to go do a bigger Via Ferrata in the Durance gorge was thwarted, just too damn hot. I did get on the Slalom course to work on some rolling in the current, though, thinking sticking my head into the raging waters of the Durance might help cool me down. It definitely did, and I got in my only rolls of the holiday. Since they were deliberate, they definitely don't count.<br />
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Friday was the last day, and the Ubaye was on the hitlist. The levels had been chugging up slowly all week and were headed off the charts, so we headed to the Upper and got on for a big, bouncy, massively high blast down to Jausiers. It turned out to be the grand finale of the week as the Racecourse section was far too high for any margin of safety, but all of us walked away from it with a big smile and pretty satisfied that we'd had an awesome fortnight.<br />
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For me, the whole thing was a big confidence boost, a new appreciation of just how good and how pushy some grade 3/3+ paddling can be, and a real boost on both a practical and a psychological level. Hopefully I can keep working on things over the summer, whether that's at the Washburn, Teesside, Tryweryn or, if it ever rains, on some real river. I know there's still plenty to play with, and there's still my <a href="http://pyrosyard.blogspot.co.uk/2013/01/the-long-and-winding-river.html">3 aims</a> to work towards. And come the Autumn, there'll be a new bunch of freshers to work with and plenty of paddling opportunities to look for.
For now, it's all good...<br />
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Cheers!<br />
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PyroCarrick 'Pyro' Armerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08705410588749063217noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7020678.post-75665625322509294272013-05-16T15:15:00.000-07:002013-05-16T15:15:04.607-07:00Pretending to be a Roman, part IIAfter a fitful nights sleep, punctuated by one of our room's occupants getting up to go to the loo, one snoring, one farting and one making the bunk creak every time he rolled over, we got up. At this juncture I should probably point out that we were sharing a 3-bed family room, and let you try and figure out to whom each of those four categories applies.<br />
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YHA breakfasts are as they were way back when I worked in the YHA - basic, stodgy, cheap and very much worth it. Geoffrey and I split the last bit of Black Pudding, since apparently the lady booking the breakfasts at reception had got the numbers a bit wrong. Ross got extra veggie sausage, and declined the black pudding - strange that. And there was plenty of cereals and toast available to plug the gaps around the fryup, if so required. We so required, plugged said gaps, donned our best <i>(or second-best)</i> lycra and got the bikes ready for the off. Before we offed, we also donned our best waterproofs, since the morning was, frankly, a bit miserable. Leaving Once Brewed was easy, down the hill into a big dip. Climbing the other side was a bit of a stretch, and led to a wee bit of frantic thrutching, grinding and crunching gears to get up and over and then turn left onto the Stangate towards Vindolanda. This turn marked the start of a long, straight, smooth downhill, which again ended abruptly in a big dip. I think the Romans needed to work on their engineering: They'd mastered straight roads, but they still went down and through some nasty dips. More bridges needed next time, Romans. <br />
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The dip at Vindolanda was also particularly rough. It's a shame, as there's good tarmac in one side, a horribly washed out, chopped up, pitted crap bit in the middle, then good tarmac out the other side again. Being the only one with drop bars, I clung grimly on down the rough bit. That said, being the only one with disc brakes, at least I knew I could stop a bit quicker if needed. Anyway, more thrutching and grinding and we were soon up the other side and up to the high point of the ride at Crindledykes. Since it was still precipitating upon us, a continuous heavy drizzle with additional road spray, we didn't stop to take a picture, but plodded on, knowing full well that about 5 miles of continuous downhill was to come. A steady trod alongside Grindon Lough and then the gradient started to decline, and we rolled downwards with ever increasing pace, swiping at the glasses every now and again to clear the spray, and in my case wishing I had brought my waterproof shorts, since through a single layer of lycra my thighs were completely frozen. We finally bottomed out at Newbrough, and tried to ease some life back into frozen fingers, toes, legs and backsides as we started having to pedal again through the backroad to Fourstones, and through another 'Navigator's Choice' route, direct along the South Tyne, rather than loop north-east and come down the North Tyne from Warden. At least it had stopped raining, and once along here, we were back into familiar territory for me, cruising under the A69 into Hexham and across Tyne Green, which doesn't look quite the same when it's not covered in tents, gazebos, and mildly inebriated kayakers.<br />
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The first appointed coffee-and-dry-out stop was Tesco cafe. We left the bikes locked up and under the watchful eye of the carwash blokes, in a bike park apparently built to house the entire Tour de France peloton. Ours, oddly enough, were the only bikes in it. The place was just what we needed: cheap, cheerful, has toilets and hand dryers and perhaps most importantly, wipe-clean chairs <i>("I feel sorry for whoever sits down on these after us" was Dad's considered opinion)</i>. After the gap-filling and cooked breakfast, none of us was in need of cake, but a large mug of coffee certainly hit the spot. We trooped to the bathrooms one-at-a-time to try and get some bits dried off and warmed up, then finished up and rolled back out of town.<br />
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The next stage of the route was a gentle, undulating roll along easy and well surfaced back roads, via Corbridge <i>(a little bit confusing, signage could be a touch better/more frequent)</i>, Bywell <i>(Ross: "I recognise this bit: Last time I drove along here we had to wait for the floodwater to drop")</i> and then absolutely parallel to the river to the first of the 'Tyne Crossings' at Ovingham. Unsure of the signage at the narrow Ovingham bridge <i>(there's a "Pedestrians Only, No Horses" sign on the footbridge, and the vehicle bridge is only just a single car width)</i> we fired across the vehicle bridge and waved to the nice man who'd stopped to let us across. A sharp right just after the bridge and we were into car-less trail in the Tyne Riverside Country Park. Nothing exceptional to reports from here, a couple of short-steep climbs of the 'where the hell did that appear from?!' ilk, then over a lovely old metal railway bridge and along the old lines through and beyond Wylam, birthplace of George Stephenson. That probably explained the railway, then.<br />
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After a little navigational dispute <i>("The pub's thataway!" "Yes, but the NCN Signs says thataway!")</i>, a bit more riverside gravel track and our first bit of dog-dodging since Carlisle we arrived at Feed Station 6, otherwise known as the Keelman Inn, Newburn, home of the Big Lamp Brewery. Dad had been raving about this place since we left Hexham, and he's a fan of both his food and his beer, so we assumed it'd be alright. Credit to the staff, they didn't bat an eyelid at a trio of grubby blokes in lycra standing at the bar on a busy Sunday lunchtime, though they did look relieved when told we were sitting outside. Two stotties full of meat (with chips) and one Mediterranean veggie wrap (with chips) and a pint each and we sat in the sun, enjoying the day and watching the lady in front of us's dog chew its way through a half pack of paracetamol it had found. We obviously weren't the only ones getting anaesthetised. <br />
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The Keelman was a bit of a turning point, in a way: We knew that at the YHA, most of the weekend's climbing was done with; we knew that, from Hexham, we had no more big descents; and from Newburn, we were more-or-less off the pleasant, leafy backroads and gravel tracks, and into the urban streets and concrete. After Newburn you start hitting the industrial estates that line the Tyne, and while a good effort effort has been made to put cycle lanes in, make dual-duty pavements, make crossings easy, like a lot of urban cycle infrastructure it's very stop-start. Riding along the dual carriageway through Scotswood might be intimidating and dodgy, but it's more flowing than having to skip backwards-and-forwards across at the traffic lights to follow a cycle path that isn't sure which side of the road it's supposed to be. Things got better as we got closer to the centre, and the Quayside path started, taking us off the busy main roads, and rounding the long corner to the famous view up the Tyne, past the famous bridges - Redheugh bridge, Edward VII rail bridge, Elizabeth II Metro bridge, High Level, Swing bridge, Tyne bridge and the Gateshead Millenium 'blinking eye' - gave a fantastic view. The traditional Quayside Sunday Market was just starting to close, a tradition that even the old restrictions on Sunday trading couldn't stop, and it's been going since the 1700's. There's a temporary restriction on cycling through the market, but instead of following the proscribed detour signs we just dismounted and walked through the crowds. <br />
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Beyond the market was the place <b>I'd</b> been raving about since the Keelman - The Cycle Hub at Ouseburn. I first came up here for a 'bike jumble' a while back, and thought it was a cracking little place, part bike shop, part hire joint, part cafe. It seemed to be well timed on our route for the afternoon coffee stop, so stop we did. We locked the bikes up outside and wandered in, ordered coffees and cakes, had a bit of banter with the staff, Dad wanted to know "who do I see about a pot of arse lard?"; Ross, settling into the sofa just asked "I wonder how much they charge for an hours sleep here". I spotted the three-person bike suspended up above the doors and wondered if that would be a good solution for our next tour. We re-sorted ourselves eventually, gathered our belongings and wits about us, and set off once more. We were all wincing at getting back on the bikes at this point, bums a bit sore from the previous miles, but onwards we wandered. This final leg was actually one of the least pretty of the whole ride, a mix of industrial estate, housing estate, glass-strewn cycle path and urban pavement, with a short stretch that looked like it had been the scene of this year's annual 'burn-out-a-car festival'. Not quite the same as the big views and open sky up on the Wall itself, but a necessary evil, and probably better in general than trying to ride along the main roads would have been.<br />
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Soon we were at another landmark on our ride, albeit a not-very-scenic one: The Tyne Pedestrian and Cycle Tunnel. The escalators were closed, so we looped round to the lifts, and wheeled our way through the deceptivel short tunnel to the far side of the river and into Jarrow, then through more urban streetwork, though a bit better signed, through old terraces of housing and around the port area into South Shields. One more obstacle, though, a split in the signage, two different cycle routes, and obviously, we took the wrong one. Rather than follow the signs for the Tyne Ferry <i>(since, y'know, we'd just used the tunnel)</i> we followed the Route 1 signs, which took us up and over the ridge upon which South Shields sits, then started to turn Southbound. Knowing that that wasn't quite right, we stopped to ask a couple of people if the knew where Arbeia, the famous (or at least, fairly well know) Roman fort was. The first one: not a clue. While I know we all take our own locality for granted to an extent, not knowing that there's this whacking great Roman fort in the middle of your home town? Crazy. Fortunately, the second one did, and it wasn't that far away. For future reference, it's on Fort Street, surprisingly enough.<br />
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We wearily climbed the last hill, having failed to spot a certain Blue octavia pulling across the junction just ahead of us, and spotted the Fort Street sign. Turning the corner, I spotted Mum climbing out of the car, camera in hand: Time to pose as a team. Geoffrey arrived at the summit, we formed a rolling roadblock, and cycled slowly in to the finish. <br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oRXJ5PQU2Sg/UZVZ5WfW04I/AAAAAAAAB6c/eTq1zaL_Jc4/s1600/904854_10152794737100511_1848946174_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oRXJ5PQU2Sg/UZVZ5WfW04I/AAAAAAAAB6c/eTq1zaL_Jc4/s640/904854_10152794737100511_1848946174_o.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The end - Centurions Armer (Jr), Armer (Jr) and Hendry</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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All in all, we had a fantastic weekend of riding. Nothing majorly taxing, around 90 miles total (42 on Day 1, 49 on Day 2), plenty of coffee and cake stops (no need for energy gels and bars on this one!), lots of chat, and excellent company. We weren't racing, just enjoying a couple of days of pushing ourselves a little bit, and getting in some lovely scenery on the way. Thanks to Ross and Dad for planning, sorting and being part of the ride, and to Mum for dropping us off, picking us up, and providing the pink fizzy stuff to rehydrate with at the end. I've my eye on a very different coast-to-coast next, but Hadrian's Cycleway was a (mostly) lovely way to get one under the belt.<br />
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Thanks for reading!<br />
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PyroCarrick 'Pyro' Armerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08705410588749063217noreply@blogger.com1