OMM 2026 - Storm Boelo stops play

Dumfries and Galloway isn't a terrible journey for us, so we just took the afternoon off to get up there. We left about 1300 and got to the event centre at about 6, to find a large swampy mud-pond just in front of the gate. We've had trouble getting out of fields before, but rarely getting in. Taking a run up and revving hard got us through the swamp and we were soon parked up.

We'd picked up some buffet food at Morrisons in Dumfries for dinner, so I picked up my bag and we went over to registration to get tracker/dibber. While we were there we did a bit of shopping in the event shop, and bumped into Mandy & Shirl.

After a chat we went back to the van to have some food & get some sleep. Our start time was 8.45, with a half hour walk to the start we needed to leave at 8.15.

In the morning we had a brew, finished putting a few last bits in the bags and set off walking to the start. The weather was OK so far, and the track was easy to walk on.

At the start we dibbed then started planning. 

I always start with the run in - I want to know how we're getting to the finish when we're in a rush to avoid penalties. There was a clear track to the finish with a few controls along it (although it wasn't as quick as it looked - nice sting in the tail from the planner, more on that later). That gave us the direction we wanted to come in. There was an area close to the start with a couple of 30s, so we headed out that way with the intention of replanning once we'd got some way in.

First of all we had to wade through a river, so our feet were nice and wet from the beginning. It was only about ankle deep on me though, so not too bad yet.

Then we started fighting our way through the tussocks. Deep, dense tussocks and a steady climb up to the first control. The control was the top of a reentrant and fairly easy to find. Then on to the next, which was at a lochan close to a wall corner. I drifted off to the right on the descent of the nose through many many bogs, until Claire pulled us back on the bearing and straight onto the control.

We set off to cross the hard boundary and, having looked down into the valley, decided to cut straight across what looked like an appalling bog on the map but was OK on the ground. The river crossing was easy enough, and we got to the wall crossing.

We weren't completely sure of our plan at this point. There was a 50 point on a hill to our north, and a clear path for a good part of the way, but I was second guessing whether we'd be over-committing. In the end I decided to just give it a go and we got moving down through a very very boggy path onto the forestry track. The track was really easy going and gave us chance to warm our feet up, until we cut off the path to start heading up to the control.

This was where we made an embarrassing but ultimately not serious mistake. To aging eyes with contact lenses in, AO and AQ look very similar. One was a boulder, the other a lochan. So off we went, in search of a lochan. Straight past a boulder. Eventually we reached a point where Claire thought we'd gone way too far. I checked and agreed, and resected where we were from some features in the valley below us. Sure enough we'd overshot, and were approaching our 2nd control on this leg, a 30 pointer. We followed a bearing up to the lochan that was actually our second target on this leg, dibbed and turned to return to the first target, the boulder 50 pointer below. Any further into the tussocks northwards was out of the question for the time we had, so it wasn't a big deal as this would have to be an out and back leg anyway.

This was when the weather, which had so far just been a bit poor, started to get worse. Claire was being severely buffeted and we were both being hit by horizontal sleet in 40-50mph gusts. Heavy waterproofs on over the Paramo smocks, gloves on, and on we battled. Dropping back the way we came, we soon found the boulder and the control under it.

On towards the track down into the valley and I was getting cold. My feet were numb and I was just above shivering level. I added a thick buff around my neck and another on my head, ate some food and kept on towards relative shelter on the track. Through a gate full of ankle deep cowshit - nice.

Once on the track, there was a constant stream of people heading toward the finish. We picked up a few controls along the way, but kept the pace up as we only just had enough time to get in, with ten minutes or so leeway.

The track (that clear run in I'd seen when planning) turned out to be very up and down. If we were slower on the climbs that might have properly caught us out, but climbing is our thing so we were fine and got in with 6 minutes in hand.

Mid camp - unaccustomed luxury, and the arrival of storm Boelo.

As we came into mid camp, there was an obvious area that was sheltered by trees on our left. We quickly got finished, picked up the splits printout and headed for the area we'd spotted.

The whole field was weirdly flat and sheltered, not like an OMM mid camp at all. This was great, I'd been worrying about a camp as exposed as Glen Arten 24 all day, given the forecast. We got the tent pitched, fetched water and got inside to warm up with a cupasoup and some dry clothes. Claire went over to talk to Mandy who was pitched nearby, then the weather turned and we took refuge. We had a couple of cups of tea, experimented with using survival bags to keep the foot ends of our sleeping bags warm and eventually used them to build a kind of windproof barrier around the bottom of the tent (inside) which cut the wind and warmed us up a lot.

After a couple of cups of wine and some chocolate, we settled in to go to sleep. The site was mostly quiet, although as the wind and torrential rain picked up you could have had the Black Dyke Band playing and we wouldn't have heard them.

I kept waking up through the night, worried about the wind and rain and whether it'd bring the tent down, scatter the stuff in the porch or just rain into the tent. In the event, apart from one peg needing redoing before we'd zipped up for the night, we were secure and stable all night. I'd pitched just slightly at an angle to the wind, so we didn't get it blowing straight through and it worked a treat.

Day 2 - a disappointing but understandable evacuation, a cold wet queue, and a lot of hardworking Scouts

The piper played at 6 and we dragged ourselves awake. I'd had maybe 4-5 hours, not bad for a mountain marathon. Claire about the same. We lay in our tent as the tannoy announcement came that day 2 was being rerouted onto the valley bottom bail-out route, then started to pack up. 2 guy lines came loose around this point - I think someone fell over them rather than them coming out, but that meant that the tent was a lot less stable.

Eventually we got the tent down, got everything packed and joined the huge queue to pick up day 2 maps/instructions.

We chatted with an OMM / mountain marathon veteran (Brian Layton) while we queued, then Ellie Salisbury passed by and joined in - she'd had a rough day with equipment failures the day before.

Finally after about an hour of queuing we reached the front, picked up maps and marked them up with the mandatory controls for the evacuation route. It was exactly what I thought - the path we'd used the day before, only more of it. Day 2 had some controls (and the outbound leg) in the plantation, which probably helped the organisers decision as the forest would not have been very safe in that wind.

We got going in a hurry, wanting to warm up but also to get back and get the van out of the muddy field. As usual in groups of runners they'd overtake us on the flat/downhill, then we'd overtake them on the climbs. Rinse (literally in that weather) and repeat.

Once we left the forestry area and started to climb the col, the ground got really wet underfoot. The wind and rain got harder as we climbed, then eased off as we dropped down into the valley beyond, and finally the sun came out.

The valley along the Pulnee Burn was pretty swampy, but we were keeping up a pace to keep our feet warm. A lot of people seemed to be struggling with the terrain and we overtook constantly.

Coming back onto the forestry track where we'd started the previous day meant the same river crossing in reverse. Only now it was a lot more than ankle deep. Just above my knee, which means a lot deeper on Claire. There was a rope on the crossing so it was fine, just cold and wet.

It took us 3:20 to do the 17km back, fairly good going and good training. We picked up some tea and food and listened to Wendy Dodds being interviewed on her 50 years of OMMs. Once done we headed back to the van to get changed and get the van clear of the mud. Just as we were about to leave a camper got wedged in front of us and had to be towed out. Once our turn came I once again gave the throttle some welly and we were straight through and out.

Looking at the day 2 map, it would have been a good day in better weather, and it's disappointing to miss out on that. I worry a lot about the way the climate is changing, and the inevitable impact that will have on our activities. Obviously the impact of climate change is a lot more serious than just what happens to our fun weekends, but it's a very visible example. And obviously Talnotry was a 400 mile round trip for a single weekend, which is pushing what I'm comfortable self-justifying a bit. It wasn't the best weekend of mountain marathoning we've had, but no one could have planned for such a major storm to hit just at the wrong time.

Talnotry 2026 will live on in OMM legend in the same way as '08 (although not quite as dramatic). As always the organisers did an amazing job - even more so than usual in the tough conditions. Bonus thanks to the Scouts who were amazing and cheerful throughout.

The controversy

It seems the OMM organisers have come in for some flak from Facebook keyboard warriors in the wake of the MRT call out.

A few facts:

• The linear courses were reduced in scope because of the weather.
• The score courses weren't, but that's because they're strictly limited to time anyway.
• At the time that the incident happened, Claire and I were a couple of km away near the top of Milfore. At that time the weather was very benign - a bit wet and foggy but we've seen far worse on bad summer days. The Saunders 2023 comes to mind.
• At the time the weather turned bad it still wasn't that bad on Saturday. It was gusting pretty high and there was hail and rain but just normal 'shit day up high in October' level. Enough that you didn't really want to be up there if you could avoid it, and a lot of people chose to drop down at that point (including us). That was the weather when the rescue team went up Curleywee.
• The weather did indeed turn completely to shit, at which point it would have been dangerous on the summits. That was around 1am, by which time we were all back at mid camp.
• The terrain around there is, admittedly, awful. That's the point. It would still be awful on a sunny midsummer day. It's just tussocky hell. That will have made the extraction difficult, and the chopper could only have landed nearby in much better (i.e. "not October") weather. It was worth trying, but it was probably always going to be a non-starter.
• There were half a dozen people with the casualty. She was surrounded by people with warm clothes, tents, survival bags, food, torches, more warm clothes, did I mention warm clothes yet?
• The rescue team knew to within 10m exactly where the casualty was. Compare that with your average MRT call out.

MRT have studiously not criticised the organisers, and rightly so. The loud-mouthed criticism comes from people who simply don't know what they're talking about. MRT is voluntary and donation funded, and made up of outdoor people like fell runners, walkers, mountain bikers, cavers - to a large extent it's the outdoor community's own self support, which as an added bonus also helps sheep, stranded motorists and inexperienced noobs. Social media users who aren't active members of the outdoor community really aren't entitled to an opinion.

Fell Relays 2026

Claire and I are not particularly active in the club at the moment. I've always been a bit 'arms length' with any kinds of clubs - I'm not very gregarious and people who are tend not to understand that; and Claire is still unable to run after years of one injury after another.

We do almost always turn out to volunteer though, and the Fell Relays needed a lot of volunteers. At the last minute it turned out I'd been missed off the roster, but Darren Tweed had too many jobs to do so I picked up a few. Claire was planned to be marshalling out on the course, but ended up on the finish funnel for most of the day.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. We figured we should get to the park for 10.30, which should give me enough time to get out to CP1A at the minor summit north east of the road near Sourhall. It turned out to be about ten minutes too little, once I'd found the first aid tent and picked up my kit.

The spectacle in the park was extraordinary. I've never done the relays, although I've dropped Claire off for them (at Appletreewick 2 years ago). The number of people, tents and the bustle was quite overwhelming. I picked up my two SI controls and the ground spikes and set off out of the park.

I don't know Tod park very well, but I thought I knew a cut through out onto the road behind the park. It turned out to be bramble and nettle choked and even now on Monday I'm covered in scratches and stings. I didn't have time to search out an alternative route though, so just had to force my way through.

Up the track towards Tod Edge and Parkin Lane, passing runners doing a spot of reccying. Once I got to Parkin Lane I caned it (absolutely sweating buckets in base layer, fleece gilet and Paramo) up to CP1A. Dave Woodhead was already there camera in hand and had a good chuckle at my expense, which was fair enough.

I got my CP set up with about ten minutes to spare, then faffed with layers as I rapidly cooled and dried off in the cold wind. It took about 30 minutes between the first and last teams coming through, followed by Helen and Nick sweeping.

Helen wasn't sure if she was supposed to be pulling flags, and hadn't brought her phone, so once they'd gone I dropped down to the red route then worked my way back pulling flags & signs until I reached the junction and a steady stream of leg 2 runners heading for Flower Scar.

Then back down to Tod Edge to take over from Finn at the gate above the woods on shepherding duty. Literal shepherding - there were sheep in the field and we didn't want them getting into the woods while runners were coming through.

Finn was comfortably settled in a deckchair and dry robe, but a bit cold so he headed off home while I settled in to watch out for sheep and cheered on runners. In fact with the number of people bustling around the sheep had scarpered for the other side of the field, but it was as well to have someone there and it was a pretty good place to spectate.

I was there from 12.30 to 3.15, so I was a bit chilly and my bum was a bit numb by the end. From CP1A I could hear the tannoy, but not what was said. From the gate I could hear every word. I didn't realise until I got down to the field that it was Doni Clarke on the mic (more about that later), but I could hear someone massacring the pronunciation of 'Hebog'. I made an effort to spot the Welsh runners and say 'Da Iawn!' as they came through to try and make up for it.

At one point the quicker leg 3 teams started to come through and one runner spotted me, grinned and shouted my name. It was Barney Nikolich - I haven't seen Barney since we worked together in about 2018 so that was a nice surprise.

Finally the mass start for leg 4 kicked off and a huge stream of people came through. I started to pack up, chatting with Julian who was out supporting his club.

Sweepers Darren and Katy came through, Darren didn't have clippers for the cable ties but I had a knife in my first aid kit so I clipped off the signage, gathered up my many flags and signs and headed down to the park.

At the park I delivered all my burdens and went to find Claire. She was on the finish funnel and hadn't been able to get away for hours, so I went to find her a coffee. A bit later on as things wound down I hopped over the fence to stand in while she went to find the loo, and while I was there Doni clad in vivid pink suit was winding things up on stage. Thanking various people he called out his co-host Johnny Parsons from Pudsey. Later on I managed to locate Johnny - we'd been friends at school but I hadn't seen him since about 1989!

Finally we had a bit of a worry with a team missing on leg 3 - they came in tired but happy, and we started packing up. We were all done by half six, and the park was back to normal apart from some muddy marks that will soon heal (in spite of the snotty opinions of a passing dog walker).

The Harriers did an amazing job of the relays. I was reminded of a medieval tourney - whoever thought of putting the individual club tents along the side of the run in, that was a stroke of genius. The huge screen was a real focus, and Doni and Johnny's commentary & interviews brought a TV coverage style gloss to the whole thing, with a distinctly Todmorden flavour. An amazing job, well done to all!

The Long Mynd Hike - never again

The Long Mynd is the last of the 3 (Fellsman, Bullock, Long Mynd) longstanding 50 mile scouts events that I hadn't done. It clashes with the RRR so I never did it when Runfurther was still going. It's a hundred qualifier so is quite popular, but this year I put a reminder in the calendar to enter as soon as it opened. With hindsight I maybe shouldn't have bothered.

The start is at 1pm so on the day we set off about 8.30 and arrived in plenty of time. Registration was quick and easy although the hall was very busy. We went back to the van parked in a field behind the school to get our kit sorted out.

Around 12.10 it seemed like everyone had vanished. We quickly shouldered our bags and set off following the few who were still filtering out of the field, on what turned out to be a 20 minute walk to the start. Claire had been here before (both the school and the start field) for a couple of fell races.

At the field the sun was getting hot. We stood around in our queues waiting to exchange cards for tallies. At 1245 or so the tallies were handed out and everyone headed up to the top of the field for the start. Someone said something more or less inaudible over a tannoy and we were off.

The first couple of km we were fairly closely packed together. Once we started climbing up Caer Caradoc the crowds started to disperse and we were soon on the top in the sunshine, enjoying the spectacular views out towards the Wrekin.

The descent was steep and gravelly, and a lot of people were slipping. We were OK, but glad we were wearing grippy shoes.

At the bottom of the hill we crossed over to the short out and back up The Lawley, another interesting little hill with a pole on top. At the bottom we had a route debate - whether to follow everyone else, or take the road. The organisers had suggested the road and bridge over the railway, rather than the level crossing but no one seemed to be going that way and since we weren't carrying football boots the level crossing held no fears, so we kept going with the rest.

Looking forward from Caer Caradoc

Across the other side and the climb up to the CP at High Park. Greeted by a very enthusiastic scout who seemed to be having as much fun as we were, we beeped the fell track and filled up with water.

There was a portaloo at the CP, so we availed ourselves then carried on up towards Pole Bank, inhaling cheese pittas as we went. We got chatting with another walker who told us about several other events locally, and a bit about the history of the event.

Pole Bank didn't have a pole, but it did have a trig point and some cheery volunteers. It also had a turf zone (Claire had forgotten to stop turf earlier in the day). It was an out and back, so we turned back on our tracks. This was another route choice - OS Maps snap-to-path had chosen a route via Medlicott but a quick glance at the map suggested the better route was straight down to Coates Farm. I was really glad we took the latter option as the farm included an absolutely adorable and very friendly little black cat.

From Coates Farm we were on the road to Bridges, where lots of people were enjoying the sunshine outside the pub and cheering us on. More road up to Stiperstones, where Joe Faulkner was lurking in the car park for surprise kit check. Joe was asking to see head torches, and seemed to be enjoying kit-nerding out on the different torches people were carrying. 

The route over Stiperstones is rough underfoot, but nothing we're not used to and we made good time. We skipped climbing up to the trig, but decided that would be where we'd go for Claire's birthday later in the year as it's a really striking place.

The route followed the top of the ridge all the way along, then dropped sharply towards Habberley. Claire fell on the muddy path & lost a water bottle, but wasn't hurt beyond a bruised elbow.

At the bottom we opted to cross the fields instead of gaining height on the road, and came into Habberley where we met an enthusiastic crowd outside the pub.

The climb up Earls Hill was short and steep. Someone was running with a bluetooth speaker playing music, which pissed me off, and a loud voiced bloke was telling anecdotes to his friend. The anecdotes were quite funny, but we were glad to leave him behind on the climb as he was very loud indeed.

More happy scouts at the top, and we turned around for the descent, stopping just before the woods to put on windproofs and dig out head torches.

Back through Habberley where it was now fully dark, and up the road to Bank Farm and a cup of tea.

Sidequest - the history of the grouping rule

Grouping is a bit of a holdover from the days before trail running became a big thing in the UK. Fifteen plus years ago, the Scouts events (and the LDWA) were the main ultra distance events here. The assumption was that walking was the default (although many fell runners took part), and everyone would slow down at roughly the same rate.

Everyone hated the grouping rules. The Bullock Smithy never enforced it particularly strictly, although they retain the option in the rules and still encourage participants to group up. The Fellsman enforced it strictly, and got a lot stricter after a serious safety issue in 2012. They stopped enforcing the rule post covid when they brought in GPS tracking to pretty much universal sighs of relief, although it's still an option they can invoke if the conditions call for it.

Everyone had at least one grouping horror story, whether it was being grouped with someone who was  a complete arsehole; or someone completely irresponsible or inept. My own grouping experience from the 2011 Fellsman had been positive - I'd entered in a group of three, and when we lost someone to injury at Stonehouse we picked up 2 more who were well matched for speed, and good company.

So Claire and I weren't sure how strictly grouping would be enforced. We've done several mountain marathons together, walked thousands of miles through the night in all weathers and seasons, completed 2 LDWA Hundreds as a pair, walked and run the Fellsman together. We really hoped the grouping rule would be lightly enforced like the Bullock, and we'd be OK as a pair.

Long Mynd Hike part 2 - night time

By the time we reached Bank Farm it was apparent that we were going to get grouped. I'd overheard an conversation among volunteers about grouping. At Bridges CP the system for controlling groups had been in place and visible, and I started to feel uneasy.

We were eyeballing people in the hope of finding someone quiet we could get along with. Once we were ready to leave there was someone waiting, and we'd seen him running the descents during the day. He was on his own, not a member of a big rowdy group so we thought we'd be fine.

I won't give a detailed account of the rest of the event. Our companion was pleasant, chatty but not noisy. But he'd run hard to the mid point and burned out. He wasn't used to climbing, and the Long Mynd has 3000m of climb. Claire and I train specifically for hard sustained climbing.

We did the first 25 miles in 6 hours. The remaining 24 miles took 12 hours. The last 5km alone took 2 hours.

The unplanned sunrise

We weren't interested in our finish time - we're well past being precious about that by now, especially when walking rather than running. But the experience of dragging along at half your comfortable speed for many hours is excruciating, and what could have been a lovely walk through the night became an exercise in patience and forbearance.

There are multiple failures here. Anyone who works with me will tell you I'm not afraid to be assertive. But I don't like to punch down, and when someone is struggling I'm going to put my own feelings aside and try to help, even to my own detriment. Our companion probably should have recognised that we were struggling to go as slow as him, and hung on at a CP to regroup with someone else. The state he was in by the finish, perhaps he should have DNF'd. It didn't help that whenever I asked "are you OK" he was always really chirpy and upbeat, and likewise in  CPs, so there wasn't really an opening for "would you like to stop here for a rest and group up with a slower party?". Nevertheless, I should have said something at the time.

But in my view the retention of the grouping rule in 2026 is the bigger problem. There are many things wrong with the grouping rule as a safety system.

• It assumes a more or less consistent pace throughout. While that might be true for walkers, it's very much not true for runners, especially now when many more people are entering events that are stretching their capability to breaking point. We see an awful lot of runners who run the first part of an event then burn out and slowly plod the rest. Or, more often, runners who can't climb at any pace, so we catch them on every climb, then they catch us on the descents.
• You'd hope that marshals would be careful about gender mixes in groups (although looking at some of the groupings I'm not convinced). But how does a woman say "no, I don't want to be grouped with this creepy bloke I've been ignoring for the last twenty miles, even if you group me with him and another woman"? More difficult still, how does someone break a group when they feel uncomfortable but the social pressure is to continue? Far more men than women enter long distance events and I've heard quite a few women talk about being worried by the grouping rules.
• Even beyond immediate safety and practicality concerns, grouping assumes that people are gregarious and happy to be with others. Being grouped with a loud extrovert (or god help us some idiot with a bluetooth speaker) would completely ruin the whole event for us, and others like us.
• In benign weather, with hundreds of other people on the route, you're never alone for long anyway. Being grouped is completely disproportionate to risk under those circumstances.
• Where a group isn't working, as ours wasn't, it relies on tired participants to force the issue and overcome cultural/social pressure to deal with it themselves. It lets the organisers off the hook at the expense of participants.
• Mandatory grouping is probably discriminatory under the Equality Act (2010). The threat of it is likely to deter some people from entering at all (ADHDers for example).

Grouping was a "best we can do" sticking plaster for safety at a time when there wasn't an alternative. It probably wasn't a particularly appropriate solution on the LMH from the start - a more light touch implementation like that of the BSH would have made more sense.

Overall, the Long Mynd is a weird event. The Scouts love a night hike, but starting at 1pm means missing most of the beautiful scenery because you're walking in the dark from quite early on. At 50 miles an 8 or 9am start would force all but the very fastest into the night and give the rest more opportunity to enjoy the Shropshire Hills.

On the plus side everyone was absolutely lovely, the weather was fantastic and it was great to see so many scouts really getting involved. The organisation was more or less flawless. Food was limited to biscuits, sweets, crisps and hot drinks, but that suits me perfectly.

The LMH models itself on the Fellsman, but little resembles it. Even in the dirtiest of weather, the Shropshire Hills are never going to be as bleak and inhospitable as the tops of Buckden Pike and Great Whernside, and although the area isn't densely populated there are plenty of villages in the valley bottom. It doesn't seem to attract huge numbers of competitive runners (although the entry is enormous), and is more of a social event for groups of friends to enter. Entering in a group of 3 or more, if that's your thing, is probably great fun.

I'm glad to have ticked it off the list, but I won't be going back.

Kit

• OS 216, 217, 241 maps.
• Montane Prism hat
• Montane Fireball primaloft
• Columbia waterproof coat
• Kalenji waterproof trousers
• Patagonia nanopuff gilet
• buffalo mittens
• 2 fluo yellow buffs
• another buff
• UD Fastpack 20 bag
• screw top mug
• Saunders T shirt
• Patagonia mid length shorts
• Patagonia full length leggings
• Bridgedale socks
• Waterproof socks (on at the evening stop)
• Montane windproof
• ME wide brimmed hat
• Altra King MT 2.0 shoes
• compass
• printed map
• first aid kit
• SOL survival bag
• Zebralight H600fw torch & spare 18650 battery
• Small anker charger & watch cable
• small patches of retroreflective tape
• UD soft bottle
• Spare (empty) bottle

Food

• 2 cheese pittas
• 1 peanut butter pitta
• 2 cheese scones
• mixed nuts
• a few crisps at CPs.

The 50th Bullock Smithy

 This is Claire's favourite event, and the 50th anniversary was definitely one to enter. For the route, I prefer the Fellsman but the Bullock still has the feel of a Scouts event in a way that the Fellsman has started to lose in recent years. Of everything I do, the Bullock has the traditions and community atmosphere that I value highly.

We set off a bit late - 9.30 - and time was getting on by the time we reached Hazel Grove. Frustratingly the "part of the car park will be in use by NHS" turned out to be "almost the entire carpark will be inaccessible", and everything was a bit chaotic. We eventually found a spot in the nearby industrial estate, where I faffed for a while trying to make sure I didn't block the gate into the (closed and semi-derelict) CarpetRight site.

Eventually we got sorted and headed up to registration. Found ourselves in the queue next to Imtiaz so we chatted about this year's hundred and the unbelievable heat. Picked up our Felltrack bracelets & numbers, coasters and t-shirts, and finished off the various little bits of kit adjustment needed. There were lots of people around we knew to some or other degree but it was all very busy.

As usual we started to walk out to the park around 11.30. I was just debating fetching the scones that were in the van, but it was a bit too late. We picked up our tallies in the park and stood around waiting for the start.

Rob Massey started the announcements about ten to, and ran through the usual stuff about the route etc, then talked a little about George Matuszewski, who'd passed away over the last year. Lots of people knew George to some degree, he was a fun and friendly character who always seemed to be popping up somewhere. I think he'd done every Bullock since the start. Various hikers were scattering his ashes around the course, so he'll be there for every subsequent Bullock too.

We got started just after 12, and I walked with Claire until we left the housing estate then picked it up a bit. It was a warm day and I soon started to feel quite hot. Coming through Lyme and then climbing up to Bowstones I caught up with Nick chatting with Tony Wimbush and said hi, then Francis Wooff just in front of them. Dropping down the road after Bowstones I was struck by how much further the road route is than turning off down the hill - Claire took the field route and said she thought it was better.

Over the next km or so I thought my pace was picking up a bit high (I was around 7min/km) and eased off. I think this was a mistake with hindsight, as I was definitely slower during the day than I usually would be.

At Chinley there were hoards of cars on the road, making the crossing difficult. I caught up with Julian Brown for the first time as I crossed the road, and we chatted for a while on the way over to the Edale Cross track.

I pushed on up the track, dodging out of the way of a tractor and muck spreader, and made reasonable time up the hill. Down the other side, dodging day trippers all the way down, and onto the road in the Hope valley. This was somewhere I could probably have moved quicker.

At Edale I quickly scoffed down some rice pudding. I'd been sipping intermittently at the peanut butter so far, but I was keen to avoid the belching and nausea that sometimes causes me problems (spoiler - I didn't, but did postpone it).

Over Hollins Cross, just as I reached the top a familiar runner (his name is Nigel, it turned out at the prize giving) came in from the right. He evidently has a different route up from Edale (and I always catch him up here). Looking at the map I'd guess he avoids the road and comes up the track opposite the community centre, which looks like a decent route.

Pausing to eat a bit of cheese scone, I dropped down towards Castleton, being careful with the gate that has bitten me multiple times.

At Castleton I paused for a water refill - I was going through the water today - and on up the field behind the Devils Arse. This is a tough climb but went OK. Onto the Limestone Way, noticing some bell pits near the medieval lead mines that I'd never noticed before.

George on the back of this year's tally.

Descending towards Peak Forest I was feeling a little ropey and held my pace down again. Through the fields after the farm track everyone seemed to have followed a wrong line through the fields.

At Peak Forest I stopped for a few minutes to regroup. As I arrived I discovered Kate who I've met a couple of times on the Fellsman, who commented that she "didn't really think of you existing outside the Fellsman", which gave me a chuckle.

I munched through a couple of boiled potatoes with salt and a few crisps, then got going up the road. Peak Forest seemed to have more to offer this year, the boiled potatoes were a new thing and very welcome.

From here to Millers Dale I was running continuously, if not fast. That was a general theme for the whole day. Kate came storming past looking strong, although I was to see her again much later.

At Millers Dale I was feeling slightly below par. Mood dropping and some cold sweats. I've struggled badly just after Millers Dale before, so I decided to head it off and have some food and a cup of tea. Half a cheese scone, some nuts and a brew, and I was ready to get going again.

I was still low dropping into the village, but I gradually rallied until, by the time I hit the track I was feeling a lot stronger. A couple of people went up the road, but I pushed on up the steep climb and by the time I reached the main road crossing I was feeling OK. As I crossed the road a girl in the window of the house opposite was waving with her dogs paw, which cheered me up quite a bit.

Over the top of the hill and on to Chelmorton. The light was fading, which meant I was a bit behind schedule. The scouts at Chelmorton were a jolly bunch having a great time, and very helpful.

After Chelmorton always feels like I'm on top of things again, and I ran in fairly briskly to Earl Sterndale. It was fully dark by the time I reached Earl Sterndale which was an unwelcome surprise as it meant I was very behind schedule. I didn't stop long there, just enough to get my torch out of my bag, and got going again.

I caught up another runner on the moor top, and as we dropped off the other side I warned him to be careful - for the first time ever I didn't fall on my arse, probably because this time I was wearing fell shoes.

The lane was busier than I've ever seen it, 3 or 4 vehicles passed me on the way up. Claire said there were a lot more when she got there. A moments hesitation over the unclear path after the cattle grid, then down to barking dog farm.

Here, we were supposed to follow event signage to avoid the pop up campsite. I couldn't find anything except the new footpath signage which may have been what was meant. Across the other side I was with a couple of people who went off to the right at the pond. I straightened us out with a glance at my handheld, and on up to Brand Top.

As I climbed the steep slope I could see a torch looking down, which was puzzling. As I reached the top, it was a couple of supporters ringing a cow bell - a strange and remote place to be supporting, but quite a nice surprise. There were lots of supporters out on the course this year - a result of the record entry I guess.

At Brand Top I was reminded to stick with another runner, which I completely ignored as everyone else there wanted a hot dog. I forgot to fill my water bottle which was a bad mistake as this is a long leg.

Back out into the night and up to 3 Shires Head. I was making good progress now and feeling pretty happy. Into Wildboarclough and down the road to the usual enthusiastic welcome from Clough House. I was feeling just slightly queasy so I ate a few nuts and gulped down a quick coffee. There were quite a few people here and shortly after I arrived Julian arrived with a few others.

I was pushing along OK after Clough House, and caught up with a group ahead of me just as we got to Macc Forest. Kate was among them, and we talked about things Fellsman and events more generally. Her dad who's usually along had dropped out of the Bullock early on with what sounded like a painful achilles tweak.

By the time we reached Walker Barn the 3 behind had slowed a bit and we were 2 groups of 3. One of our party took us a nice route through the fields to Rainow, which seems to be shorter but slightly slower than the road (Julian later confirmed there's very little in it), although I may have been holding us up a bit. It's certainly nicer, and unless I was challenging my PB I think I'd use it again in future. At Rainow I felt really sick and stopped for a few minutes while the others cracked on.

I'd eaten a bit of cheese before arriving in the hope of easing my nausea. At the CP I was eyeballing the milk they were putting in tea and wondering about asking for just the milk with no tea, then I saw the lemon cordial. That sounded perfect - "no added sugar" gave me a little reassurance (although it was a risk, if there was any fructose in it I was buggered but I wasn't thinking that clearly) and seemed to settle my stomach down almost instantly (although it could have been the cheese).

I got going down the hill and onto the final stretch. Running as hard as I could manage (except for a moment fussing a lovely long haired cat in the village) through Bollington and along the canal.

At the CP I checked in and immediately got going. I ran the whole Middleton way section, resisting the temptation to check my distance as much as possible, and minutely varying my pace to avoid burning out. Off at bridge 12, and there was only 5km to go.

With 1km to go I pushed hard, and finished the last km in about 6:30, a little faster than I normally would. I came through the door with a few minutes to spare before 14 hours. Not a brilliant time for me, but not bad and I'd mostly had a nice day out.

I succumbed to the shakes, twitches and shivers as usual. Someone kindly put a foil blanket on me as I lay on the floor, and I eventually started feeling a bit better and was able to have something to eat. I was there a while chatting (not sure how much sense I was making, I was still quite hypoglycaemic), then headed back to the van for a sleep before Claire came in.

Claire arrived back at the van about 5am, which woke me up with a start. We were both a bit cold but slept OK for a few hours. Around 8.30 I got up and limped to the petrol station to get us some coffee and pastry. Lots of walkers were coming in, to applause from supporters along the road.

We walked across to the scout hut around 10 for the prize giving which was fun as always. Lots of regulars around, and a real feel of the community of the event. Rory had finished in around nine and a half hours, a slow time for him but still impressive. Nick had completed his 22nd, Julian and another guy their 27th. Tony had done the very first in 1976 - I didn't hear whether he'd done any others in the 50 years since.

Over time I come to like the Bullock Smithy more. The whole long distance running landscape has changed beyond recognition in recent years, and a lot has been lost. The Bullock preserves a feeling of community and low key rivalry rather than outright competition, a culture that I'm much happier with than the modern sport feel of many events. A topic for another day.

Things that worked

• My legs felt a lot better throughout, no tightness in my quads. Could be yoga, could be hill reps (probably both)
• I treated us both to the Mountain Equipment bags in the sale. The aim for me was to have something with better front pockets, a little smaller and less bouncy than my UD 15-20. It worked really well, although I do need to decide on what goes where a bit better. And shorten the tube for my water bottle. Handy pocket for tally (although it won't work for the big round Fellsman tally. Mind you, who knows if I'll get Fellsman kit in a 14l bag!)
• Lemon cordial seemed to sort the nausea out really quickly. Just needed something sharp I think. Ginger is supposed to work, so maybe I need to carry a couple of boiled lemon sweets or chocolate gingers.
• The alternative Walker Barn to Rainow route was much nicer than the road, but not quite as quick.
• Slowing my pace a little allowed me to carry on running when I otherwise might have walked. I think I just erred a bit too much on the side of caution.
• Altra King MTs were the ideal shoes. Grippy, comfortable, just enough support

Things that didn't

• Obviously I slowed down a bit too much. Although I did have a nice time.
• Set off from home too late.
• I was a bit too hot in the T-shirt I was wearing. I could have done with a lighter one.
• That might also help to gauge my glucose. Cold sweats are an indicator of something going wrong, but can be masked by a sweat soaked T-shirt and the temperature dropping. A Brynje shirt could possibly help. Must try a CGM at some point.

Kit list

• Awdis t shirt
• patagonia shorts
• drymax socks
• Altra King MT 2.0 shoes
• ME Tupilak 14 bag
• Zebralight H600fw head torch & spare battery
• Montane Minimus waterproof
• Kalenji waterproof trousers
• Inov8 primaloft
• First aid kit
• compass
• map printed from OSMaps
• Garmin eTrex
• spare socks
• buffs * 3
• glasses
• buff hat
• OMM gloves
• Montane windproof gilet
• screw top beaker
• survival bag
• spare batteries for Garmin

Food

from my bag

• 2 cheese scones
• 1 tube peanut butter
• 1 cereal bar
• some nuts

CP food

• crisps
• boiled potatoes
• one custard cream

Bag weight

4.5kg

Saunders 2026

After missing out last year, it was great to be back on the Saunders this year. The week before was the second extreme heatwave of 2026, but by the time the Saunders weekend came along it was pissing down, at least in the north of England.

We left home about 5, picking our club mate Mandy up on the way and got to St Johns in the Vale about 8pm. Friday hadn't gone to plan - Claire had been out all day and had just thrown everything into a washing basket. I'd packed on Thursday night but there were a few bits to add. We'd picked up some buffet food for dinner in the services, so once we'd registered I helped Mandy with her tent while Claire packed her race bag, then we settled down with wine & food.

Our start time on Saturday was 8:54, so at 8:25 we set off walking the 1km/100m up to the start, arriving with ten minutes to spare. We passed through the start gate bang on our official time, and found a spot to plan our day.

Looking at the map, I reckoned we could get as far south as Fisher Gill then start working our way in. There was a big area of OOB channeling us into the mid camp, so the aim was to loop as far south as possible to leave maximum scope for day 2. We can count on 3km/h walking, so we wanted about 21km in total.

After lots of last minute kit faffing with the changeable weather, I'd set off in my old Paramo windproof. Climbing up Clough Head I soon put my waterproof over the top of it. The Montane waterproof isn't that resistant to driven rain, but it's very breathable and in combination with the windproof I was comfortable all weekend. I use that combination quite a lot and it works well, regardless of which layer is on top. 

The first control was by a small pond next to the path at about 550m and would have been easy to find even without the cluster of people around it. Following that we took a path most of the way to the next (a reentrant) then crossed the col to a sheepfold, then a longish contour on not-too-steep ground to a small hill top, then crossed a deep reentrant and contoured on a long way, past Stanah Gill to a small reentrant. All the way down this side of the Dodds we were below the cloud. The worst weather was the occasional blast of rain & wind, but we could see controls surrounded by people from some distance. We were mostly contouring on gentle slopes, just above the steeper ground that descends sharply into the Thirlmere valley.

Crossing Fisher Gill we climbed steeply to a spur, close by a footpath, then turned east and climbed up the gill to a sheep fold by a re-entrant. 

From here our climb up to Raise at 884m took us into the cloud, and with no one around the next control under a boulder was a bit more interesting, but still fairly straightforward. Then down the hill through a lot of bog and reeds to a sheepfold hidden in a reentrant. That was quite a nice control - the sheepfold wasn't obvious until you were practically on top of it.

Following what seemed like a catchwater drain from there (and saying hi to Claire's friend Ali who passed by with her daughter on the Bedafell course) we dropped off the contour to a hill top control below. Then down to the old quarry workings, picking our way through the heather and rocks.

The bridge in the quarry workings was a little inexplicable. We went to it thinking the stream might be impassible any other way as it's quite significant on the map, but it just seemed a bit pointless and we could have saved a couple of minutes by skipping it and crossing to the col 100m further east. 

Up to the col, then down the other side to take a control in a steep reentrant, then a long slog back up and up Green Side in growing cloud. At the top we went on past the summit to a control on a small pond, then cut across to a clear path heading towards Hart Side (a new Wainwright for both of us). We dropped off to a control at a stream junction that was a bit deeper than it looked (and seemed to be foxing people a bit), then back up to the summit of Hart Side and on to a control on Birkett Fell.

From here we were dropping gradually in to mid camp via 3 controls. The first, a ruin in a bog, the second, a stream junction, then contouring round to a hill top control where we could clearly see the mid camp. Claire's knee was starting to bother her, but we made it down to Dockray (and back up the steep road to mid camp - cruel!) with 15 minutes or so in hand. Looking back at our path I can't improve on it, so a really good day with 300 points in hand.

Day one total: 22.74km/1452m - 6hrs 47min - 300 points

From a distance, mid camp looked very sloped indeed. Once we'd picked up our beer (only ordered one each, idiot that I am) and milk, I looked around and spotted a really flat area at the top of the site that no one had opted to pitch on. It was a fair way from the loos and water, but that's no big deal for us and we like the quiet, so we pitched up on a nice flat spot.

No one else pitched up there for ages so it was really quiet. Windy, but probably no more so than further down the hill. We sat around drinking cup-a-soup, then tea, and eventually a couple of teams pitched nearby and it wasn't quiet after that.

There were intermittent rain showers all evening, but I managed to dodge them all. I'd realised during the day that I had my watch on "walk" mode, which doesn't include altitude, so I created a new screen with just altitude and elapsed time, which helped with nav in the clag on day 2.

One mixed pair nearby were sharing a tiny single person bivi tent, which must have been extremely snug. On our other side two young men were having a conversation that regularly veered into the surreal...

"Shall we have custard with the cake?"

"Yes, but maybe we should save half the cake so we have cake tomorrow."

"OK. Shall I put electrolytes in the custard?"

"Electrolyte custard? Why not?"

"OK, are you ready for pudding?"

"Oh yes sir, I can pudding. Pudding pudding." (to the tune of "Yes sir, I can boogie", rather an oldie for two 20 somethings).

I decided on the spot to adopt that last line.

We woke up at about 6am - my snoring had bothered Claire a bit but she'd eventually got to sleep. We started packing while we ate choc-chip brioche for breakfast and made a cup of tea.

The rain held off while we were getting ready and packing the tent up. My shoes were horribly cold and wet, and my waterproof socks unusable. I'd dried out my insoles though, which made my shoes slightly nicer. With the extra water saturating everything my bag felt really heavy (I later measured it at 8.5kg).

We dropped down the field with 5 minutes to spare for our start time, but everyone was just queuing and going out ad hoc. By the time we left it was probably 8:05.

Up the field, and out onto the road. We followed the road for a km or so, then went straight ahead onto the fell where the road turned. Claire had worked out an optimum route for the day that should allow us to take almost every control we'd left available for day 2, leaving just a couple of easter eggs that we could get if we were lucky.

Lots of people were heading for this control, so it was easy enough. Then the next was a sort-of-reentrant at the other side of a massive bog. We encountered Jackie Scarf coming the opposite way and waved hello.

After the reentrant we got onto a main path that took us all the way up to a control at the top of Randerside, then we contoured round to a hill top on the east side of Great Dodd. This feature was hard to see until we were very close as the cloud had come down, and lots of people were wandering the hillside looking perplexed.

We dropped down to Browndale beck and picked up a steep reentrant that took us up to the next control, spotting Mandy and Helen just above us. From there we carried on climbing up Stybarrow. We had a spot of confusion here and took a couple of minutes to re-orient ourselves (details below in "lessons"). It was pissing down and really windy at this point.

Down to a nice clear reentrant (although it was a fair slog down to the control), then right down the reentrant to meet Stanah Gill, then a long steady spiral traverse to a sheepfold under Little Dodd. Claire read this one more efficiently than me - I was going to climb further up the reentrant to the right height then cut back, but she took a neat shortcut straight up the valley side that saved a couple of minutes. Then on to a hilltop by a stream that I should have read better (it was clearer when I looked at the map later without contact lenses).

Dropping down towards Mosedale Beck we followed a succession of sheep/runner trods through the tussocks almost all the way to the next control - a sheepfold under a nose near Wolf Crags. At some point Claire tripped, wrenching her knee, but she kept marching along almost faster than I could match.

We reached the bridge at what looks like "Marier" on my rather wind and rain battered map, then followed a wide track towards the finish, briefly climbing out and back to a metal hut on the side of Clough Head for a bonus control. We debated dropping off to the right within a km of the finish for one more 10 pointer, but decided we couldn't quite afford the time. That turned out to be right as we finished within 5 hours... by about 20 seconds.

Once we'd dibbed at the final/clock stopping control, we walked back in and downloaded, got changed, had some of the usual delicious veg chilli and headed home to clean and dry kit. The tent is currently hanging off a clothes airer in the bath, sleeping bags over doors and everything else scattered around waiting to be dry enough to put away. 

Day 2 total: 20km/1062m - 4hrs 59mins - 180 points

So that was our best ever Saunders result, without running a step (well, maybe a gentle trot in the last 100m of day 2 when we were about to get a penalty time!). 5th mixed pair, 9th vets, 26th overall. The big lesson was that moving slower allowed us to navigate and plan better.

Lessons Learned

Somewhat by accident we landed on a very successful division of labour. Claire is really good at micro-navigation but struggles with the "how far can we go in 7 hours?" bit. So during the day Claire keeps the next couple of controls in mind and does the bulk of the precise nav, while I look at the whole map and keep us to plan, just occasionally taking over the nav when she needs a break.

Walking is mostly just as fast as running on this kind of terrain if you climb fast. We could reserve running for the very definitely runnable bits (like the run-in) when Claire's injuries finally abate.

We had a bit of confusion on Stybarrow Dodd. We thought we were on the blue line so were expecting to turn left along the path, then right. Actually as we'd climbed up the featureless S->N slope in the fog, we'd veered round to keep climbing, as you can see from the red line, so we were facing more east than west, and needed to turn right then right. That threw us completely for 2 minutes while we relocated ourselves - we were startled by the compass reading 180 degrees from what we expected!

With hindsight it should have been easy - I could see that (broken) wall going off to the left, but didn't make sense of that at the time.

There were lots of places with controls in neighbouring reentrants (between the series of noses that characterises the western side of the Dodds). Spiral traversing up/down is a lot easier than contouring, provided you keep a close eye on the altimeter to arrive at the right height on the other side.

We carried both titanium pans (Claire's alpkit and my MSR 850ml), but I can't quite remember why. Something to do with the amount of water needed for Tent Meals. We didn't really need the Alpkit, the MSR is a bit bigger which gives us enough water for the food.

We had a bit more food than we really needed - a couple of brioche and a couple of pancakes were left over, plus half a dozen bars and half a bag of nuts.

Kit list

• UD Fastpack 40 rucksack
• Nordisk Halland 2 LW tent
• Rab Neutrino 200 down bag
• Alpkit air mat
• MSR Ti mug
• MSR Ti kettle
• Long Ti spoon
• Montane Element stretch waterproof
• Rab grid fleece hoodie
• Patagonia primaloft gilet (used by Claire when her primaloft turned out to be drenched)
• patagonia t shirt
• OMM 3/4 tights (on)
• Waterproof socks (on)
• Paramo Fuera windproof (on)
• Altra King MT 2.0 shoes (on)
• Bridgedale trail socks (for day 2)
• patagonia leggings
• t shirt mid camp/day 2
• montane coda cap
• Evadict waterproof trousers
• compass
• Couple of chinagraph pencils
• Boil bags for food (2 + spare)
• First aid kit & multitool
• 230g gas cylinder
• Buffs * 2 (one round wrist to guard SI card)
• Emergency glasses
• Smidge
• OMM gloves
• ZL HL600fw torch
• Hydrapak bottle with Pure Clear filter
• 2l water bottle
• midge net
• phone
• SOL survival bag
• contact lenses
• Coros Apex Pro watch (set up to just show height/time and no distance alerts)

Food

• Some mini cheeses
• Scotch pancakes * 6
• Choc chip brioche (breakfast)
• G&B Chocolate
• 4 Kind nut bars
• tea bags
• 250g bag of salted peanuts
• cup a soups
• 1 large & 1 small tent meal

Hunnypot Hundred

This year Claire and I decided to do the hundred together. We finished the Speyside together having intended to run/walk independently. The Flower of Suffolk didn't go so swimmingly, and I think we both missed the support the other provides.

We started looking ahead at the Hunnypot while we were walking the St Cuthbert's Way a couple of weeks earlier (although I'd sorted out hotel bookings and looked at the kit list etc already). 

"Bloody hell, that's a lot more climb than I expected!"

Turns out the North Downs are quite up and down. In reality that plays to our strengths so we were quite happy about it.

We travelled down on the Friday and stayed in Gravesend, then drove to the start Saturday morning. We'd planned kit etc pretty thoroughly and made last minute adjustments for the forecast heatwave. Registration and kit check didn't take long for the 12 o'clock start, so we were sitting around drinking tea for a while. We said hi to Steve Jones, who we know from many Runfurther and Craggrunner events. 

It was getting properly hot by the time we set out. Just before 12 we were led out to the start in the housing estate across the road, then on the dot we set off.

Everyone immediately ran off. Not many walkers on the 12 o'clock.

We set off at a steadier pace, but still fairly brisk. We were aiming to stick to around 5-6kph for as long as possible. We know we can sustain that pace comfortably.

It was pretty warm, and I was glad I'd dressed lightly and not overloaded my pack. I was carrying mandatory kit plus a few bits I liked to have or 'needed' (watch charger, some snacks, sun shirt).

The first few miles took us through vineyards on the Weald Way, then up alongside a wood:

"Over a stile, up path to st above. so... what's a 'st'?"

"stream? no. street? obvs no. standpipe? stoat maybe? it's a stile, but it said 'stile to st'. Maybe there's a stoat on the stile".

This only got worse as the weekend wore on.

Just before Addington & CP1 we had the first motorway crossing, under the M20. A quick stop for water. I was carrying a litre for the first leg, and used it all.

We had barely got underway again, climbing up through some woodland, when Claire's GPS beeped a couple of times then switched itself off. This was particularly annoying, because we only had one spare set of batteries. 

Then we popped out onto the road and there was a petrol station directly opposite. Winning! Claire popped in for batteries and came back with bonus crisps.

Some suburban bits, some woodland, and we seemed to be at Ightham CP2 quite quickly. It. was. hot. There was an ice cream van outside, and bowls of water to dip hats in had been deployed. We didn't hang around long as we were making good progress.

At Sevenoaks Weald we had one of several level crossings, prompting dark jokes about football boots (for anyone who remembers 1970s Public Information Films).

At Weald Memorial Hall (CP3) we paused for a little while. I ate a few cheese wraps and an egg wrap, some crisps, filled up with water and then bumped into Kieran. Sadly Dianne had already retired after a few weeks of intermittent illness. Kieran had kept going though. Nick Ham was there too, he was also retiring.

We got going again, along the road to the busy dual carriageway.

Over the road bridge and along the lane into the woods. Oldbury Wood was absolutely beautiful, and we encountered the media team here. I was guzzling my now-cool-enough-to-drink tea from Weald as Simon Pipe popped up with his film camera.

TEA! (Photo courtesy of Simon Pipe)

Bitchett Green gave us some childish hilarity.

At Knole Park and the Chestnut Walk we had a couple of km of dead straight parkland avenue, which seemed to go on forever. The local dog walkers must have wondered what was going on as large numbers of walkers passed by. At this point first finisher Lisa Joanne Walbridge came past looking very relaxed.

Under the A20, playing around with the echoes. I expected the tunnel to be cooler, but no.

By Cowden we'd lost the daylight, although it was still warm. We followed the RD but couldn't see the GPS as we hadn't got torches out yet. I'd forgotten my small backup torch, which usually lives in an accessible pocket.

Kit check at Cowden. Once we found the CP. (Photo courtesy of Simon Pipe)

It turned out there was an ambiguous bit in the RD, which assumed you could see the road as you approached through a horse field. We couldn't, because it was dark. We ended up coming in on the wrong path, which meant it then gave completely wrong instructions to the CP. We eventually tracked the CP down and arrived for kit check. I found a few places in the RD where it said "TL" instead of "TR", but this was the most problematic issue we found. It seemed like a few others made the same mistake.

I had a toasted cheese sandwich here, and it was delicious. Now it was night we didn't need to carry so much water so I just took a half litre.

At Crowborough we both felt pretty rough. I had a lie down for a few minutes and that helped. I was feeling a bit out of it. There were quite a few of the West Yorks LDWA group here, and they were finding it hard going too.

The approach to Pooh Sticks Bridge was a bit weird - barbed wire, a high fence along the back of a house: really quite unwelcoming. With hindsight we were approaching from the opposite side to the way tourists normally come in. 

"wow, did you see that?"

"no, what was it?"

"it was long with a long tail, brown."

"how big, small or tiny?"

"small."

"Probably a stoat"

Pooh sticks

At the bridge we dropped in the sticks we'd been carrying a couple of miles, then watched them through the bridge.

The climb up from the bridge took a while - it's mostly not that steep but very drawn out. There were lots of people just ahead of us as we climbed up the moor towards Marl Pits. We train all the time on hills, so as usual we were overtaking fairly often. By god they were noisy though. I think most people get a bit nervous at night, and that makes them talk louder. Voices carry further at night, and the combination makes for noisy walkers.

At the top I could hear nightjars chirring. It was a bit noisy with chatter from the groups of people walking, but we heard the birds in brief lulls.

Down the hill to Eeyore's Gloomy Place and on towards the CP.

I had a couple of muller rice pots at Nutley CP, and just tried not to eat the jam. Think it worked, didn't zonk out. We got going quick before the noisy people left. As we left it was getting light, and we didn't need torches any more. It still felt pretty warm.

Horsted Keynes and pizza, plus some quiche. I was suddenly hungry. We tried not to stay too long though, and got on into the increasingly warm day.

At Fellbridge we picked up drop bags and went to our respective changing rooms. The gents changing room had one sink, but a reasonable supply of cat litter trays. I filled up a tray with hot water, stripped off and had a flannel wash. Reapplied Skinsosoft (with some hooting - it stung quite a bit) on my chafe-y regions,  and finally rejoined Claire for some breakfast. Fried egg, veggie sausage, hash browns and some yoghurt and granola, charged up my watch a bit, and I was ready to move on. I considered leaving my sun shirt in my mid bag, but it weighs next to nothing and may come in useful (it did).

Felbridge to Edenbridge was a long long leg with a lot of climb, and tough going.

Edenbridge was hot as the very gates of hell. Volunteers on a well earned break had their feet in a paddling pool. Others were wetting towels to stick on us. I had a crumpet with cheese, and some rice pudding, and tea. Then more tea. And iced water. We stayed here quite a while, just to cool down.

Idle Hill was a nice place, topologically complicated with hills, woodland and small valleys all over the place. I tried to fix my own toe blister while Claire's back chafing was being seen to by first aider Sara. Small world - Sara had been just in front of Claire on the EBB for several hours, and I remember meeting her on the Pendle in 2021. Eventually I gave up and Sara put an incredibly sticky plaster on for me. I resolved to get some of these as they were so effective at staying stuck on - I think they're Dependaplast brand. I swapped my fairly heavy Tea Round t-shirt for my sun shirt to try and keep cooler.

Off we went again, up the hill, between houses, through fields and into woodland. I was so much more comfortable in the sun shirt, definitely a good move. We chatted briefly to a supporter who told us over 200 people had already retired from the event.

Sundridge, and a long long stretch of road past Radnor School and over the M25, then on up the hill. The road kept getting steeper. That's fine, I like a steep hill. It kept being road though, and that I'm less keen on. At the top we doubled back and started dropping, which Claire was even less keen on. We were both having mood issues, so we stopped for a few minutes on a bench at the top and got our brains back under control.

Chain gates - shadows of the Speyside

Round the corner, and Chevening House came into view. We did a bit of a wiggle around the edge of it, and climbed a rather nice grassy valley to some woodland. 

Soon after we reached Halstead and the cricket pavilion, which was a pleasant stop. We were getting into the evening now, with seventeen miles left to go, and starting to get tired.

By this point we were thinking checkpoint to checkpoint, but it was only 5 miles to Kemsing so that didn't seem too bad. Climbing up we crossed the M25 again - this time a full ten lanes, with 4 lanes per carriageway plus slip roads. The noise was unbelievable, saturating and disorienting.

We caught up with a large group on the road near the end of this leg and were behind them in the woods, but soon squeezed past as they seemed to be struggling a bit with the navigation. Not surprising to be honest, the RD was extremely sketchy here. We'd been using the RD and GPX together throughout, with Claire using the GPS and me following the RD. The map showed a single coherent route through the woods, but it was a maze of different intersecting paths. Someone had marked out the right route with reflectives, which made it a bit easier although very often at path forks they were in the middle of the fork with no indication which to take!

We dropped down through a largely unmarked field, then down a ginnel and were greeted by some familiar faces - the Irregulars!

We didn't plan to stay too long, I ate some crisps and a biscuit and we had some tea, then got going.

Out of the CP and into the recreation ground, and the RD & GPX conflicted with each other. The RD told us to pass to the left of the copse of trees, the GPX went to the right. We encountered another couple here who'd recced part of it, they took the left and we took the right and both came out onto the road together. Then up a driveway and up through the woods. We were still able to push hard on the climbs and that felt like we were making good progress. Through the virtual self clip, and back down to the valley bottom through a dense rape field with plants up to my chest (they must have been above Claire's head). We stopped at the bottom while I removed something from my shoe, which took a long time as my feet were hard to reach.

At this point I was confused by (I think) multiple big antennae with red lights and was sure we'd just turned back on ourselves. I was cursing the route planner for sending us round in pointless circles (although in reality the whole thing is a pointless circle, isn't it?). I was pretty tired and fighting brain fog. In fact my mind was starting to play tricks on me. Unlike Claire I didn't get visual hallucinations through the second night, but I spent the entire night fighting with the feeling that everything was familiar because we'd done this route before.

A long, long, long gravel track, then up a road and back into the woods. Confusingly straight through a campsite. The shape of the hills ahead didn't make sense and I was trying to work out if we were crossing from one valley to another.

My left foot was increasingly painful - the arch was really sore with every step, and I now had a painful blister on the fourth toe of my right foot. I got slower and slower, and felt like I was slowing Claire down so eventually stopped (in what smelled like a fairly recently mucked field) and strapped my ankle with crepe bandage. I put an elastoplast on my right toe which, while not brilliant, held long enough to get to the finish. All this seemed to take ages and involve a lot of first aid kit faffing - one of the after-event jobs is to make my first aid kit better. Finally I was on my feet again and we moved on another mile or so to Hodsoll Street checkpoint.

Everyone knows the last CP of the Hundred - Dave, Merrien and friends sadly didn't include Jack Cooper this year - she had other things to do this time. But we had a lovely surprise to find Ken and Jenny Wyles there. They sat us down and fed us tea and rice pudding and we chatted for a while, but needed to get to the finish.

And so to the final leg. 5-ish miles, little climb. Mostly road, not my favourite but it gets the job done.

We got into Knole Park and followed the main park track to the very end. The sky was just starting to lighten a bit. Then finally onto the cycle way that seemed to go on forever. At some point we passed a car park and a supporter called "nearly there, just stick to the path". Claire and I went off on "and beware the moon" for a few minutes. My feet were painful again, and we were just plodding along in a straight line trying to keep up a decent pace. The dawn chorus was absolutely saturating. We could see mist covered fields to our right and no obvious sign of habitation. At last we came out in the village, head torches weren't needed any more and we limped all the way round the school and into the finish. Our final time was 40:39 - rather slower than our estimates, but most of that was spent cooling off in checkpoints.

We were both ravenous which is unusual for the finish of an event (Claire usually gets nauseous), and ate straight away before collapsing into the van for a few hours. Claire got up before me and went for a shower, while I opted to be a stinky git all the way home before lazing in a hot bath.

So that's it for another year. How soon can we enter the Jurassic?