The Lakeland 50, 25 July 2015

In the moment

This was my third Lakeland 50 and I really should know the way by now.  When Andreas mentioned he was running in the Lakeland 50 a few years ago, it sounded impossible and way beyond my ability. I had some really nice days and weekends reccying the route before the first year I did this race, in 2013, including a night time reccie in high temperatures of Ambleside to Coniston.

So I decided to run the Lakeland 50 without a watch, just to enjoy every second, minute, hour, step, yard and mile.  I don’t really care for time, I care that I enjoy the journey and if my time is good then fine.  

My time in 2013 was 13h 56m, 40s, in 2014 it was 12h 44m 34s, so this year I would like to improve on that but that’s by the bye for me.

The luck and luxury of having such good health that I can even make the start let alone the finish of such an event is not lost on me.  The build up to race day guarantees to lift my mood.  On the train from Manchester I had hoped to sleep but had to stand, still, cycling from Windermere to Coniston was the usual treat, the ferry across Windermere now a much loved fixture for me and my bike.

Excited to be in the Lakes I fly down the hill to Coniston and register, catch up with Andreas and Amanda who are marshalling this year, and Jenny who is here to support Steve on his L100 attempt; I pitch my tent and say hello to people who I have made friends with over the last few years.  

I land next to my friends who are new recruits to this event, Izabela and Jason who I met in Snowdonia nearly a year ago.  They had been camping near Chapel Stile last year and having watched the parade of L50 and L100 runners staggering through the campsite towards Chapel Stile last July they entered and trained to be in it.

At the briefing on Saturday morning we were told we were creating tomorrow’s memories, and to live in the moment.  

"Life moves pretty fast.  If you don't stop and look around once in a while you could miss it" (Ferris Bueller)

is staring down at us from the big screen. 

  

which put me on mind of 

“And I urge you to please notice when you are happy, and exclaim or murmur or think at some point, 'If this isn't nice, I don't know what is.' ” (Kurt Vonnegut)

Heaven for me is a day with no eye on the time.  Most days I am clocking the passing of time and wonder where it has gone as I work my way through my to do list, run for trains and every time I press snooze is time I could be on the foam roller or doing things that don’t get done.  And so this measure of time governs my life each day and time accelerates each year.  I have seen it all before as night turns to day, summer turns to autumn then winter turns to spring.  Another year.  What once lasted half my life and lasted for what seems forever now lasts for just one fiftieth of my life and it flashes past so quickly that I savour the days when I can forget the seconds minutes and hours and live in the moment and if I am covered in sweat and mud with the big hunk of fire burning the back of my neck while I hurtle across horizons what more could I want?

So, we are off, and once we have circled the Dalemain estate, then it’s through busy Pooley Bridge, up and above and along Ullswater then down to Howtown Bobbin Mill, a lively checkpoint, always a hive of activity.     

Sadly no marker pen motivational nuggets on cardboard placards this year leaving HTBM and it’s a harder push up long hot Fusedale.  And this year those micro sized fudge pieces in the goody bag from Howtown Bobbin Mill pushed me up Fusedale so well that I was tempted to turn round when I got to the top of Fusedale to go back for more.I love this splendid climb and with its amazing views it is simply spectacular. 

Up and over across the top over Wether Hill along the bouncy boggty top and then down from High Kop to Low Kop, down to Haweswater, where it is a lonely furrow to plough along the long stoney path to Mardale Head, some toe banging and tripping but I am practised in stopping myself to near perfection, I can avert a fall and right myself and do so many times. 

I see Steve (Mad Dog Dixon) in his 70^th or so mile of the L100 as I approach Mardale Head checkpoint, and spare him a minute or so of my timeless run to see how he is, take a photo of him so he can see how he is for himself later, and I move on.  At the checkpoint I enjoy some soup and say hello to Steve Linda and Nick, and leap onward heading for Gatesgarth Pass, down Longsleddale to Sadgill with amazing views.  I run out of the Mardale Head checkpoint feeling refreshed and invigorated but after a few paces the incline checks my pace and slows my run to a long slow climb up.  While I am having a fantastic day out, it is hot and the path is stony. 

At Kentmere village hall, the pasta and the smoothies are a welcome treat, the man next to me was enjoying the experience as a Christmas present from his sister, lucky man, nice sister.

From Kentmere to Troutbeck to Ambleside to Chapel Stile, onward I head greeted by the mighty Langdale Pikes lit up by a blazing sunset, I have run throughout the day without knowing what time it is.  What matters is getting as far as I can before day turns to night and daylight to darkness and now I am almost there.  

Headtorch on as I climb to Blea Tarn then switched off as the dark is nicer.  Now and then some headtorches appear ahead like beacons, I follow the heather line to the road, to the self-clip checkpoint and then I run along the road in the dark to the turn to the rocky path to Tilberthwaite. 

Last orders at Tilberthwaite rings in the close of the day it’s my last chance to sup, I climb the stairway to heaven which gets easier each year and move silently in the dark across the paths on the moors, cross the beck at the tree and move on to the top, then it’s down to the end picking my way through the stones then a jog along the track, the road and I am home.

12h 45 minutes, a minute slower than last year or an extra minute of joy. 

1st male      Jayson Cavill    8h  4m 24s

1st female   Sally Fawcett   8h 43m 43s

215             Sarah Smith    12h 45m 57s

615 started 

585 finished

The Timeless Way from Eriskay to Heillanish, Vatersay

Thursday 2 July 2015, day 10

So, here I am, almost at the end, my last day in the Outer Hebrides.  I needed to be on the 7 am ferry the following morning, from Castlebay, Barra, to Oban.

I had read Peter's route across Barra and I didn't think I had the time to follow his route, make it to the southern most point of the inhabited islands of the Outer Hebrides, Heillanish on Vatersay and make it back to Castlebay in time to pitch my tent before it became too dark.  His route looked interesting and I was sad I could not follow it.

The ferry from Eriskay was full of men setting off to work on Barra.  I pored over my map and decided to follow the most direct route across Barra to Castlebay which involved crossing some moorland and going over the summit of Heaval.

I left the road just past a hotel, and after walking across heather and bogs for a while, came across some way markers, but no visible path.  

I climbed Hartaval and by the time I was at the trig point on Heaval the clag was down and there was no visibility.  I sat down and waited for the cloud to pass which it did, then took some photos.  

A group of people ran up whilst I was waiting, and asked me how many I had done today?

I replied none, this was the most direct way to Castlebay from the ferry for me.

I went over the top and down the side of the hill, past the statue of Our Lady holding baby Jesus.

Castlebay and Kisimul castle looked so beautiful as I descended Heaval, I had looked forward to this moment for my entire journey.   

In Castlebay I was pleased to bump into the 3 cyclists I had met at the ferry in Leverburgh, they were just about to get on a ferry, it was great to see them again.

After a pint in the Castlebay Hotel bar, I set off for Vatersay the last island on my route.

I walked over three hills rather than round them, and as I approached the inevitable end of my journey at the end of this day, time was suspended.  This was one of those moments in time you want to last for ever.  Like a summer's evening in the Yorkshire Dales when the stillness is slowly eclipsed only by the slow coming of darkness and the moment could last forever.  I descended a hill and joined the road at the old school house, then walked along the most beautiful beach I have come across.  It was a still evening, this really was a place you would call heaven.

I knew from the map in my hand I was nearly at the end of the land.  I left the beach and came to a lush green, grassy, hilly stretch, between this beach and the next.  

There I came across hundreds of cows, many were calves, basking in the evening sun.  Beyond them was another beach and beyond there, the southern most point of Vatersay. 

I made my way through the cows to the southern most point, Heillanish.  I would like to say I spent some time there and had profound thoughts and here they are.  

After a brief pause, and thoughts of a dear friend who had inspired me to make these journeys, I turned to return to Castlebay; it was nearly 7.30 pm and I had a long way to go to get back to where I needed to be.  

The road between Castlebay and Vatersay was deserted.  I would gladly hitch a lift now my walk was over; I doubted there would be a lift to hitch at this hour in this place at the end of the road of the far flung place that I was now.

After I had walked for about an hour, a car did come and did stop for me - a friendly kayaker from London - he dropped me off near Castlebay, I walked to the hotel, enjoyed a pint in the bar then pitched my tent overlooking the harbour.  

The sun set most beautifully on a still sea, tomorrow's ferry, the Lord of the Islands, slipped into the ferry terminal and the sky turned dark, lit only by the moon.

The Timeless Way, from Howmore to Eriskay

Day 9 Thursday 2 July 2015

I set off from the Gatliff hostel and spent some time in the chapel, church and burial grounds, together with Commonwealth war graves which are literally next to the hostel.

I decided to follow the beach as much as possible so most of the day was spent striding along the coast, detouring inland at a few red 'danger areas'.

I moved from North to South enjoying amazing views of the sea and the as always luminescent sky to my right and mountains to my left.

I bumped into a family from Milngavie I had met at the hostel, after a few hours, and as I approached the causeway to Eriskay many hours later a car behind me slowed down and offered me a lift, it was the Milngavie family, I politely declined and laughed!

Between West and East Kilbride as I made my way round the bottom of South Uist a storm came towards me and as it reached me, then headed north.

I crossed the causeway and arrived on Eriskay.  I climbed up and over a hill to escape from the road, and turned inland to find the pub marked on the map.

I had tea in the Am Politician, then pitched my tent above the Prince's beach where Bonny Prince Charlie first set foot in the Outer Hebrides.  There were a few wild campers along this stretch of coastline, all perfectly content with the views and the stillness of the evening.

I had a paddle in the blue sea to wash and soothe my feet and slept well listening to the waves.

The Timeless Way, from Carinish, North Uist to Howmore, South Uist

Day 8, 30 June 2015

I felt much better after a long sleep and a lazy morning at the bunk barn.  Setting off from the bunk after noon I decided not to hitch back to the junction where I could cover the off road stretch described by Peter.  I wasn't sure I had enough time to make it to the end of the Timeless Way, and having come this far I was keen to make it to the end.

I walked along the road and knew that I was missing out some exciting off road sections.  In particular in his book Peter explains about the North Ford and South Ford stretches of sand he crossed as he did with Tong Sands at Stornoway.

I did not have the Stornoway Gazette for the tidal charts, nor did I have the benefit of the guidance of the local guide Mr Ewen Nicholson of Grimsay, which Peter had had before he attempted this on his own, and I did not have anyone to wonder where I was if I encountered problems.  I would love to cross these fords but today was not the day, Peter's description of the crossings and of finding the waymarkers is fascinating to read.

I headed west as directed by the highlighted line on my map, west of Ruabhal.  I found myself on a very boggy section to Church Hill and could not find a path to the township, for quite a while.  When I did reach the houses, I had a chat with some locals and then headed south along a track through fields to Torlum, from there another track south to Lionacleit and came across a.... hotel!  I had a baked potato with chili and a pint and set off feeling totally refreshed and refuelled.

At the Coop at Gramsdale I stocked up on food and drink and then turned off the main road, following the line which headed for the coast.  The road came to an end, so I followed a rough track through fields.  I could see the MoD buildings ahead and made my way round the MoD base, worried about cows but bravely made progress.  Boggy and muddy fields gave way to sandy fields.

The day was coming to an end; it was now around 8 pm and didn't get dark till around 10 pm, those last two hours of daylight in the Outer Hebrides are usually quite special, the sky is often bright.  At last I was running, with mountains to my left, the sea to my right, a luminescent sky and thirty birds accompanying me above, a surreal last few miles to the Gatliff hostel at Howmore and hours of my life I will never forget.

I arrived at the Gatliff hostel at Howmore after 10 pm, chattered to some Dutch cycle tourists, pitched my tent and slept well.

The hostel is in a black house with thatched roof and again, in such a splendid location.