X-Lakes Competition
The X-Lakes competition was held on the weekend of 4/6 July and it turned out to be a typical weekend in the Summer of 2008, i.e. wet and windy! The pre-comp briefing set the theme for the weekend.
"The X-Lakes will be a sprint version of the X-Alps, a flying, running/walking race around a 54 km Lake District course. Starting from Keswick at 6 a.m. on Saturday 5th July the route will send pilots around the Lake District on a triangular course. Initially to a take off location above Keswick then south to the first turn point of Scafell Pike (at 3206ft, England’s highest peak). Competitors will then turn east and head to the 3116ft summit of Helvellyn, before turning north for the final turn point of Skiddaw standing 3054ft above Keswick. Finally, competitors will descend to the finishing line and the events base at Fitz Park in Keswick. The course is 54km as the crow flies but the actual distance travelled over the ground will be nearer 70km (approx. 44 miles). The route includes approx. 16,000ft of ascent! To walk the whole route (and roughly based on Naismith’s Rule) the time to achieve this would be around 22 hours!"
On 19 June, 19 brave souls had accepted the challenge. As the weekend approached, the numbers didn't increase much as the weather forecast firmed up!
After a very wet and windy weekend, the final places were as follows. Click the link for an account
| Place | Competitor | Time | Pack Weight |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1st | Steve Nash | 10.58 hrs | 9.2 kg |
| 2nd | Roger Fowkes | 11.00 hrs | 14.9 kg |
| 3rd | Nick Ogden | 14.36 hrs | 13.7 kg |
| 4th | Gordie Oliver | 15.10 hrs | 11.3 kg |
| 5th | Chris Little | 15.40 hrs | 10.8 kg |
| 6th | David Lowe | 29.00hrs (night stop) | 8.7 kg |
| 7th | Gordon Allison | 37.50hrs (night stop) | 10.2 kg |
| Other Times | |||
| Peter Logan (missed Skiddaw) | 22.4 hrs (without stopping) | 13.7kg | |
| Mike Hibbit (did not complete) | 29 hrs on course | ||
| Bob Johnston | 11 hrs on course | ||
| Paul Gannon (retired due to twisted angle on Helvellyn) | 6hrs |
Other times
We have some first hand accounts from the competitors
The alarm on my phone woke me at 05:00 on the Saturday morning. As I ate my breakfast of Weetabix and bananas in my tent, even our two dogs considered it was too early to stir just yet. The race start was scheduled for 06:00, so I had more than enough time to check that all the gear that I would need for the day was in my Salomon rucksack. At about 05:45, I emerged from the tent to see a number of my competitors milling around waiting to be weighed in. The paraglider bags generally weighed much less than those carried during the similar X-Scotia event some two months before. I hopped up on the scales to reveal a 9.2kg load, at this point it included a reserve.
As the wind rocked the huge trees in Keswick's Fitz Park, it was almost enough to convince me that the chance of flying any of this course was slim to none. However, the clouds that were skipping over the nearby peak called Catbells were not moving too fast. So this was my first decision of the race, take the reserve or ditch it now; the organiser, Gordie Oliver had stated that the lightweight rule was in place due to the less than promising weather forecast, this meant we could drop the reserve and airbag if we wanted. Five minutes to go the reserve was out of the bag, but with just two minutes to go it was back in.
The race started just after 06:00, with us all departing from the start line in three different directions; some headed back towards Skiddaw (931m), some headed off in the direction is Scafell (977m) and a few went straight for Helvellyn (950m). I had already decided to head for Scafell via the west side of the Derwent Water lake, along the foot of Catbells. This route gave me the option to fly, but as I ran through Portinscale the swaying trees were suggesting that this was unlikely. A little further down the track as I started to climb towards the higher ground of Catbells, I noticed a buzzard that was happily soaring along the steep face. I quickly looked at the map and found a path that went diagonally up this face, thinking it was worth a go! The sky at this point was partially overcast with some clouds touching the top of the mountains; it looked like the forecast rain would materialise pretty soon, so if I was going to fly it was now or never.
I struggled to find a place on the hill that was not covered in ferns, but eventually I laid the tiny IBEX out on a rocky clearing that was just wide enough. The lake in front of me had white trails that indicated the wind was crack east, but on the hill it also had some south in it. I clicked the buckle on my helmet, switched on the mini vario and lifted the wing above my head. At first, I was able to soar the hill just like the buzzard was, so I gained some height then headed to the south end of the lake. I realised that the wind above the tops was moving much quicker than the air I was in just below them, so I pushed into the centre of the valley so as not to gain too much height. Then as I tried to push further south through the gap at Borrowdale, I really noticed the windspeed increasing as it sped through this natural venturi. This gap that hemmed in the bottom of the lake was completely covered in trees, and where there weren't trees there was a road and a river! The closer I got to the gap the nastier the air became, as it rolled sideways off the Castle crags. I moved further into the valley, but this made no difference. Then I looked above my left shoulder to see a buzzard (not sure if it was the same one) with his wings swept back and still not making much progress, second decision made; time to land.
Landing as close as I did to the gap was risky, but eventually I landed without drama and quickly packed the IBEX and was back on the footpath. Another 5km of running brought me to my first liaison point with my Wife Shirl. With the smoothness of a relay runner, I grabbed the two drinks bottles in exchange for a Skylight reserve (as the weather made it impossible to fly on the next leg). I'd already taken the decision to use the Esk House route up Scafell, as I had expected it to clag in and this way was easier to route find. As it happened though route finding was not a problem to the top of Scafell, as it was clear of cloud, my problem was seeing Roger Fowkes coming down from the summit as I was still ascending the last part of the climb. "Eh up Roger, I shouted!" and he replied "see you on Helvellyn"....... I mentally marked the position that we had crossed and by the time that I had got to the trig point on the summit, snapped a couple of photos then got back to the same place I was down 15 minutes. I then spent the run downhill wondering if it was the delay in unpacking / repacking for my 2.5km flight or was Roger that much quicker over the ground. I assumed that his lead had come from him taking the Corridor Route up to the summit and then tried to make ground wherever I could. All the time that I crossed this leg, I was thinking that even the slightest mistake in navigation could cost me dear.
Having run down from the summit of Scafell via High Raise, through to Wythburn in the pouring rain, I was lifted to see Gordie running the other way with his infectious smile. Shirl said I looked rather pale and tired when she met me in the Church car park to fuel me up. Immediately I asked "when did Roger go through?” she estimated 10 minutes. Having taken on board a mouthful of Jelly Babies, I set off up the steep but easy to navigate path to the Helvellyn summit. Before I broke out of the trees, Chris Little raced past the other way, saying how much he was enjoying the weather. About 20 minutes later I glanced up and saw Roger above me in his red-sleeved T-shirt and cut-off pants. At the first opportunity, I clocked him going past a large stone cairn; it was 12:34. I was now reinvigorated and hauled myself up to the same cairn as my watch showed 12:42, eight minutes behind and I knew I was catching him. Shortly after this we both disappeared into the cloud, which was getting thick at about 600 metres. The path on Helvellyn leads directly to the summit, where again a quick photo was followed by as quick a descent as I could muster over the wet and slippy rocks that make up the manufactured paths. Just as I came out of cloud, I made out Roger's bright red T-shirt as he crossed a small bridge lower down. Again I clocked him to the same point and was really boosted to see that it had lowered my deficit further to 6 minutes. In an attempt to claw back any time, I was running the grassy bits as the path twisted down the mountain side, but it wasn’t too long before my pace led me to trip and land face first sliding on the palms of both hands; like a sliding press-up I thought at the time!
Once I reached the bottom it was a short run along a path and onto the main road, where it was now unpleasant to run in the face of cars that were producing plumes of spray. One of the cars that came past was Pete Logan's supporter Noel, he pipped and waved enthusiastically at me. My route to Skiddaw took me off the main road, using small lanes and footpaths that crossed fields. My decision to take this route was to get onto the easier shoulder that leads to Skiddaw via Latrigg and Jenkin, rather than the harder direct path up from Keswick. I had no idea which way Roger had opted for, so I just kept my head down and kept running. As I passed Legburnthwaite, I noticed a long line of green Portaloos in a field with lots of empty cars parked in front of them, it turned out to be the Saunders Mountain Marathon. This explained why there were so many other Gore tex clad runners clasping maps and looking for checkpoints on Helvellyn.
My route was along footpaths that hadn't seen much use recently, as one gate to a farm track was so overgrown with wall-high nettles that I had to do a sideways treading shuffle to beat them into submission to be allowed through. Another couple of kms along small tracks led me to my final meeting point with Shirl, the problem was that I had beaten my estimated time by 75 minutes, so I wondered if she would be there or not. I needn't have doubted, as her grey Polo was waiting on the corner as planned. We exchanged bottles for the last time and I offloaded my Gore tex pants with her. I dived over the embankment down to the main road, crossed a small bridge, and then started my final ascent. It takes a while to readjust from moving along or down to a reasonable pace uphill, I find that if you start off too quick you can suffer half way up. The image of Roger in my mind kept a good stride in my step as I constantly wondered where he was. As I cleared Latrigg, I could see the long path up the side of Jenkin, but there were so many walkers out that even spotting Roger's distinctive T-shirt was not possible. Taking the old path at this point, again to save seconds, I had to play mental games to keep up the pace. I told myself that I could have 3 sips of carb drink at 400 metres, then a carb gel at 500 metres, another 3 sips at 600 metres and so on. By the time that I had cleared 800 metres, I was able to run again, as the terrain flattened right off.
I had got my GPS out of my bag at about 1500 metres away from the summit, this was more to record that I had been there, than for navigation. However, it was good to see the ‘distance to next waypoint’ decreasing all the time. Having slowed my pace, I glanced down at the GPS screen, 650 metres to go, and then I was shocked to see Roger running towards me out of the mist shouting “Geezer”, having already bagged the summit. It felt like I had hit the ‘turbo’ button, sprinting to the trig point like a scalded cat! Out with the camera, holding it in at arms length with the summit behind me, I pressed the button. Nothing happened! I tried again before realising that it had somehow switched to a ’10 second delay’. Damm! After fiddling with the camera settings and hastily taking a couple of photos, I chased after Roger. I was descending as quickly as I could, with him now clearly in my sights. He reached a small saddle, where I had planned to take a left onto a steep scree path, instead Roger continued uphill on the other side. By the time that he had gone out of sight above me, I was already racing down the scree. All the way down I was struggling to concentrate on the constantly moving rocks beneath my feet, as I wondered if he would maybe fly down. The wind had dropped a little, but it was still easterly, which was the same direction that we needed to go in to get back to the finish at Fitz Park. I carried on running as fast as I could, until I reached a grassy track, which became a footpath, which became a small road. This then led to a T-junction where I saw Roger flash past from right to left. I was now less than a minute behind and knew I could catch him, but who would have enough energy left in the tanks?
Having now locked onto Roger like a slow-moving missile, I reeled him in. As much as I was gaining psychologically from this, Roger seemed to fade with repeated over the shoulder glances to see where I was. Eventually, with less than 2 km to go he slowed to a walking pace and I quickly caught up. Roger dejectedly exclaimed “you’ve got me, man, I’ve got nothing left!” Then he asked if I had any water. I handed him my drinks bottle with the last of my carb drink in it. Then I said “come on, there are still others out on the course” and with that I continued to run. I replied to a last shout from Roger about how to get into the park, and then I was on the home straight. I had enough left to run all the way to the tents at the finish line, where the small gathering of organisers and supporters were applauding. I told them to expect Roger in pretty soon. In fact, he ran in less than 2 minutes behind me to make it over the finish line in 11 hours exact.
We then enjoyed sitting still and I was happy to just consume 5 cups of tea before third place man Nick Ogden arrived having completed Skiddaw in a rather frightening thunderstorm. The competing organiser Gordie came in 4th, followed 30 minutes later by Chris Little who made 5th. The rest of the field either continued into the night or returned to Keswick to retire. David Lowe set off up Skiddaw at 07:00 to complete the course. Gordon Allison was the final finisher, walking over the line at 14:30 on Sunday afternoon; he showed a steely determination to complete the course and deservedly received a huge round of applause.
All in all a top effort from all those that took part. Thanks to Gordie and his team for putting the event together and here’s hoping that the weather allows a little bit more flying at next year’s event.
Mental.......... really enjoyed the event every step of the way just like you said. It started for me @ 12.00pm on the Friday when I left work, some 9 hours later we made it to Fitz Park. Due to chaos on the M6 around J19 it was shut. We came up though Windermere and passed Helvellyn that's when I leapt out the van and planted my first stash of food and drink, another food stash along the road to Keswick and I was sorted.
6.15 am we were off. Steve Nash starts legging it out the park in the same direction as me. I thought "hang on a minute we got 70km to go", but I could not resist and stared to run too. Over the bridge out the park, Steve turns right I go left. I don't hardly see any one until the top of Scafell, my route took me down the main road to Rosthwaite, up the Grains Gill; I kept looking around to see if I could see Steve or anyone else but no one. I made the top of Scafell Pike in pretty high spirits knowing that not seeing Steve coming back across from the top towards Helvellyn meant that I was probably ahead.
A couple of minutes later confirmation, after I had descended off the top and started to climb again towards Broad Peak, bang, there he was, a lean mean fighting machine all in black moving pretty rapidly towards me. We were both on a mission and did not hang around to exchange pleasantries. As we passed each other he said did you fly here, I replied you must be joking.....then I knew I had to push hard to stop the attack of the Nash I only had a small lead. The viz was good for the next section (I was worried it was going to be in cloud, making route finding very hard). But I cleared the section before the worst of the weather hit.
After contouring around High Rise just dropping into the valley, I see Nick with his ski poles coming the other way thought blimey, he's going well. Coming down Wythburn Fells and onto the road I was starting to feel knackered. It started to lash it down, I continued on to the car park where I had my stash of goodies. T shirt off, waterproof on, karons cake in my mouth, refill water bottles and grab the Lucozade and I was off again. Exiting the car park I see the main man Gordie; he's refuelling as well. I ask if he's done the Skiddaw and Helvellyn, yes he says - wow that's 2 down, 1 to go, I thought.
The two bottles of Lucozade did the job and I was feeling fairly sharp again. Up the steep path out through the woods and into the open, zigzagging up the hill, I kept looking around to see if the Nash was coming. As nuts are nuts, he was there like a hunter and me being the hunted. I kept pushing up the hill and soon I disappeared into the cloud, out of sight out of mind I thought. Off the top and down to the road, once on the road I pretty much jogged my way back to Keswick.
There was no sign of the hunter and I thought I was safe. Little did I know he had gone a different route. I had chosen to go back through Fitz Park to take on more water then down the A591 to Millbeck, up the steep Allerdale Ramble. The top was in cloud and I was not to sure if I was at the top or not. Come on Rog, keep going until you find the trig point. Got the pics and had just left the summit, when out of the mist jumped the Nash. I waved my finger @ him and thought oh no, you don't. I knew I had to run all the way down the Skiddaw if I was going to keep the Nash off my back. I made it down on to the road, I think I had opened up a small gap. But I was shot to bits. I tried jogging along the flat road back to the park but just could not do it..... I kept looking round to see were he was. He was taken the shortest line through every bend and running. He had me; there was not a drop of juice left in my engine. Steve, what a top bloke, gave me the last of his water and walked with me for a bit until the roundabout just out side Keswick , where he upped the pace and I could no longer stay with him. Legging it back into the park just how we had started 11 hours before was awesome. Making it to the HQ I fell on the floor for a well deserved rest......
11 brave souls turned up to put their minds and bodies on the line in probably one of the maddest races the Lake District has ever seen. With a pretty dismal forecast at 06.15hrs on Saturday the competitors sprinted away in all directions from the start line, excited by the challenge that lay ahead.
I opted to do Skiddaw first and was joined by Chris Little. We summited in just over a hour in gale force winds and had to do the summit ridge on hands and knees; otherwise you would have easily been blown off! In the meantime, other competitors had set out on different routes with Steve Nash heading for Catbells and then managing to fly his small Ibex up to Grange (2.5 km.) Running down Skiddaw, I managed to put a little distance between myself and Chris and got my head down in the direction of Helvellyn.
I fought my way up the Helvellyn path amongst the hordes of runners taking part in the Saunders Mountain Marathon. Getting a real ego boost everytime I past one of them; they looked at me strangely as I was the only one amongst them carrying a largish 10 kg rucksack. They presumed I was one of their fellow competitors. Summitted at 10.50hrs I ran down in a direct line to the carpark at the end of Thirlmere, again passing lots of the Saunders runners who were traversing round Helvellyn, which caused a few to double check their maps as I confidently ran past in a different direction; little did they know what I was doing or how far I was heading.
After a quick fuel up and boot change for the next section I was just setting off as Roger Fowkes ran past, closely followed by Steve Nash in the other direction having already done the Scafell section and 2/3 of the route in distance in 6hrs! I thought I was doing well having done 2 of the 3000ft peaks by now, but these guys were super human.
Setting off on the long slog towards Scafell Pike, the rain finally kicked in bringing low cloud to make navigation over this barren section even harder. After another 4 hrs of hard walking and a slight half hour detour when I got lost I finally summitted Scafell Pike at 16.30hrs. Choosing the "Corridor Route" for descent as another thunderstorm came through, I slogged my way down in the hail and rain passing Sty Head Tarn as it started to clear. As I reached the last 1000ft drop into Borrowdale, the sun was out and even though the wind was quite strong and running across the valleys, down at my level there was very little. I could not resist and even though I only had my speed wing I whipped it out and sprinted off down the hill side. Skimming over the ground the slope was just to shallow to allow me to glide off into the valley and I landed and ran along, unfortunately one of my walking poles then fell out of my glider bag and I had to stop........bollocks, now got a slight tail wind. Well, after retrieving the pole, there was nothing for it and I forward launched the nano running across/ up the slope, then turning it down hill I did probably my fastest ever foot launch (Probably about 25/30 mph) and luckily the ground steepened and I was off. The little flight down into the valley took about 30 seconds and I did not even have enough height to clear the river above Seathwaite, leaving me to call on all my flying skills to land the Nano in the middle of the boulder strewn river bed at over 30mph (Basically this calls on having to come in at full speed and then whip the wing into a stall just before you hit the ground to kill as much momentum as possible). Wiping the sweat from my brow I was applauded by some gob sacked walkers who I think were still looking for the plane I must of jumped out off.
After quickly packing I stomped down to Seathwaite to meet my support crew (Lucy and Jan Little) and after a quick feed and footwear change it was off on the last 8 mile slog down Borrowdale. God, this bit really started to hurt, any uphill bits I felt like a car running on one cylinder and the only way to be slightly comfortable due to my blisters was to walk on the smooth bits of tarmac in the middle of the road making any cars passing me have to go round into the opposite lane. I was still racing though as I knew Chris Little would not be to far behind and that Nick Ogden was still summitting Skiddaw via a different route.
After another 3hrs of walking I dragged myself back into Keswicks Fitz Park to be met by my friends and the 3 competitors that had already finished. The euphoria of what I had achieved hit me at this point and managed to give me the strength to run the last 200 yards to the finish line.
So theres my story, a fantastic event enjoyed by everyone and, you may not believe me, but I loved ever exhaustive step. Only problem is due to the groin strain I picked up during a trip on the Helvellyn section I will be walking like John Wayne for the next week.
X-Lakes – Pain & Pleasure
I always quite fancied my chances at this event, having a done a bit of running before, that is till I caught a glimpse at the size of the packs that some people were carrying.
I’d reduced my weight to a minimum (with much help from S&W) but was soon to discover its more about how that weight is positioned on your back! Ordinary paragliding packs are not designed for running with!!
We had to cover about 40 miles around Skiddaw, Helvellyn & Scafell Pike and could do these in any order. Like Gordie I’d already decided to get Skiddaw out the way with first, so headed off from the start following Gordie at a sprint, out of Fitz Park, with 2 or 3 others who set off walking. Chatting with Gordie on the way up and getting to the summit ridge before him, all was well, until hitting the Easterly gale force winds cutting across the summit ridge; I had to virtually crawl to the trig point clinging to rocks on the way to avoid being blown away. At this point Gordie got passed me again. I also decided I’d change my route plan and go for Helvellyn before Scafell so the wind was on my back on the way up to Scafell. Ran back down Skiddaw with glider bag jumping about on my shoulders just couldn’t get the waist band tight enough. Met Jan at the car park at the bottom of Skiddaw, refuelled and looked at route options as I watched Gordie cross the path along the front of Latrig heading for St Johns in the Vale. I decided then to head down the A591 main road toward Helvellyn winding my way back around Latrigg to Keswick onto the road for more agonising jogging on the 6 mile stretch to Helvellyn in pouring rain.
I met Jan again at the car park at the bottom of the direct route up past Browncove Crags to be told I was about 10 mins. behind Gordie. I set off at a pace up the steep path where I met 2 or 3 groups of walkers all under instructions to trip me up and slow me down!!
As I got near the summit the cloud came down and I lost all visibility entering the white room (just ashame it was still on the ground instead of in the sky) took a bearing to the trig point for the compulsory photo shot, and left behind the multitude of Mountain Marathon runners all over the side of the steep fell. I descended down toward Nethermost Pike an area I’m familiar with from helping out on Bob Graham Rounds. A quick descent down toward Wythburn where I came across Rob Fowkes and Steve Nash coming up through the woods having been over Scafell but still with 2 summits to do, I thought me & Gordie must be going well and could be in with a shout.
The next bit was a nightmare – what looked a doddle on the map along Wyth Burn up to High Raise was just a bog fest of foot sucking mud and water. Oh joy! Combined with lowering cloud and rain and non-existent paths more compass work and bearings eventually got me upto Greenup Edge and High Raise in a complete white out then descended down toward Angle Tarn where I met a fellow competitor about to ascend High Raise – poor bugger, I think he finished the following day !
Onto toward Scafell in more pissing rain and wind, when suddenly at Esk Hause it all cleared the sun came out and I was feeling a happier chappier. Came across multitudes more people with radios and tents and stuff being escorted around Scafell on the 6 peaks challenge (all the highest peaks in the British Isles & Ireland or something) had a chat with them on the summit admired the views then the thunder and lightening flashes as it proceeded to hail as I headed down to the corridor route balancing along the small ledges and exposed precipices below my feet being careful not to slip. I bumped into a group of walkers along this section who were uncertain of the route so I escorted them along the way much to their horror and my amusement!!
Down to Sty head Tarn then along the valley toward Seathwaite car park– flying was the furthest thing from my mind my only thoughts were of finding Jan with food & drinks and clean dry socks and running shoes for the long 8-10 miles of road back to Keswick and my final chance to break into a run and catch the elusive Gordie.
I found Lucy and Jan waiting in the car park informing me Gordie was now atleast a half hour up on me, it was now hot and blue skys again – beautiful ! Got rid of layers of ringing wet tops and waterproofs and bid farewell to them and set off on my way, 5mins later – guess what, thunder and torrential rain which continued for another half an hour, head down and get on with it! Run, run run, but I couldn’t, the weight of the pack drenched in water pounding down on my shoulders was to much to bear. I conceded it was to be walking with poles from here. I tried to convince myself that I could run the downy bits on the road I tried but it was all to much, for my now dishevelled body.
I finally reached Fitz Park at about 9.45pm just before dark to a round of applause from those already there. Collapsed in a seat then fish & chips, bath and bed. Wow !
What a do!!!
A big thank you to Gordie for organising all this and all fellow competitors who were also stupid enough to take part in such an event!
Also many thanks to Steve Giles at the Sick & Wrong for weight minimalisation techniques (trial loan of some fantastic gear as always) and to Gary for the kind borrow of his stuff which didn’t get used or wet
and to the wife for great support throughout
Race Brief.
So here I am standing in Fitz Park listening to Gordie’s pre race brief. G says the forecast has put a few people off, well methinks the forecast has just kept all the sane people away and I'm standing in line with a bunch lunatics, all rubbing there hands together in anticipation of a real good session of prolonged pain and suffering. Anyhow G says the lightweight rule will apply and the 3 peaks can be done in any order, he also mentions the fact that it will almost definitely not be flyable; however there may be a small weather window first thing Saturday and last thing also. G suggests an anticlockwise route taking in Cat bells early for a possible glide down to Borrowdale; however G also mentions that this route will mean the walk from Scafell to Helvellyn would be difficult with the wind in the face. Little old me was just about to come to a decision as he had given me two choices so far; then he says you could do Skidaw first and bag one early, 3 choices Dave cannot compute!
Race Day 1
05:30 Yawwwn, Dad gives me a choice of bacon sarnie or porridge from a plastic tub, it says on the side of the tub ‘wholesome porridge oats gives you a sustained slow release of energy until dinnertime’ well, we will soon find out.
05:55 11 madmen stood in a line. G reminds us all of a few basics and asks us to have a good race, then we are off. 11 splinter off in more than 2 directions; 3 including myself go for the corner towards Station Lane in to town. Nick Ogden has set of jogging his long striding gait sees him pull away immediately, I stick to the plan of walking and taking it easy until I get to the bottom of Helvellyn.
07:00 striding along the A591 about halfway to the bottom of Helvellyn I realise I have made a mistake as my running shoes are rubbing my feet sore only 1 hour in.
07:30 my brother Simon pulls alongside having driven up from Pontefract to join me for a bit of a walk, he gets the first one in ‘- need a lift mate’ - my reply, no thanks mate and I start running as if I could out sprint the car. As Simon passes me he explains he has got to go back home tonight so wants to walk with me straight away. I shout to him to go on ahead and get his boots on.
08:00 Helvellyn Gill car park Dad waiting with comfy chair and hot brew. I ask Dad how long ago Nick went through ‘ ¾ of an hour ago ’ quick change to boots no Simon so I decide to hoof it up Helvellyn quickly.
10:00 Wythburn car park Simon dressed up looking like he could pass as one of them fell-walkers and greets me with a "hurry up, I'm ready to get walking" smiles, I frown and suggest I might sit down and have five and look at my feet as they are starting to sing a bit.
10:15 2 compeeds later and another brew me and our kid are legging it up Wythburn.
11:00 ish a lone figure comes in to view , he is running towards us, he has a large rucksack on his back, he is struggling across the marsh grass at the head of Wythburn feet sinking boots disappearing in to peat, #%&** its Roger Fowkes . A brief exchange of respectful keep it up and well in mate. My mind races he is miles in front of me cos he must have completed Scafell. 5 mins later Steve Nash is chasing after him. Another brief exchange he smiles seemingly not out of breath. I study his form as he passes and he looks more composed.
11:15 Rain cometh down relentless heavy rain. A few mins later we climb up toward Greenup edge in to the cloud. The going starts to become a bit of a serious nav task as the cloud is solid the wind and rain is buffeting of our left shoulder from behind and each waypoint previously entered in to the GPS 60 is only helping in 1000m steps.
14:00 ish we meet Pete Logan coming the opposite way we shake hands 50m below Angle Tarn Pete asks if I know anywhere nearby he can get a full English Breakfast.
15:45 me and our kid Summit the big one after the third lump which should have been the top. Corridor Route takes us out of cloud permanently down toward Styhead Tarn the sun starts to shine all is looking good to get back to Keswick before Dark.
17:30 ish Seathwate we spot Gordie running like a madman to get airborne he glides then lands on a shoulder he runs again and glides out of view in to the bottom of the valley. We meet up with Dad and sit in the comfy chairs again.
21:15 arrived back at Fits Park, Gordie arrives at the same time only he has completed the course. I get straight in to my sleeping bag and almost unable to help myself my legs give a few warning signs of spasms of cramp, Dad attends to my request of half a meal which is gone in seconds and I fall asleep.
Sunday
06:30 haul myself out of the sleeping bag and decide to get kitted up as if to do Skiddaw but not knowing if my legs are able to do it. Get moving around and to my amazement feel 200% better than I feel they should. Malcolm Grout has just finished his nightwatchman duty and kindly offers to walk up with me.
07:00 Do the necessary up and down the same route to complete Skiddaw
11:08 end.
Thanks to Gordie for deciding to lay this challenge down, it has been something to aim for since the beginning of the season and completion of the task within time in the conditions on the day has left me astonished at what is possible. Huge respect has got to go to Roger and Steve who completed a time unimaginable to most of us. I also think the chaps who gave it there all to get round will be back to have another go at whatever Gordie decides to challenge us with next year, I for one am now INSPIRED!
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| Skiddaw | Helvellyn | Scafell |
Sat in the office one February Friday afternoon, dulled to a stupor by the everlasting tedium and boot-kissing compliance of the corporate drone’s existence, an email came through about a new event, the X-Lakes – a paragliding bivouac event around the North Lakes mountains. Paraglide or walk around the course.
“That’s the one for me!” I thought, and excitedly sent off a cheque.
In a couple weeks I bought a mountain paraglider (Gradient Delite), and ordered a combined harness/rucsac (Apco Air Extreme), and planned to start training. Lots more corporate droning later, I arranged to raise sponsorship for Kaliyangile AIDS Orphanage in Zambia. Some people have enough (or not enough) on their plates without adventure events…
Weeks later I tracked down the event organiser: “Had he got my cheque? Was there still enough room for me in the event? Was it still on?” ‘Yes – getting round to replying, still on, 16 entries!’ So I planned to start training in earnest.
Support team? Can always rely on my big sis, even though she’s only little.
I broached the subject of sponsorship money at the Malvern Hang Gliding Club BBQ. ‘Money?? For paragliding??’ “Only if I complete – and it’s for orphans” ‘My wife’s already sponsored you, we’re a team etc, etc’ “Shell out, you old b”. Best get some road miles done, soon.
Skiddaw Helvellyn Scafell
The weekend came and the forecast was dismal, gales and rain. Fitz Park, the event venue in Keswick, was beautiful in the Friday evening light, as Gordie Oliver, the organiser addressed the dozen or so entrants who had still turned up, despite the awful forecast. We were briefed in a friendly fashion: there were plenty there who were casually pretending not to be scheming to get round the 40+ miles first. The rules were friendly too – just take your photo by the trig point to show you were there.
Gordie suggested doing the easy mountains first to avoid being on Scafell when the bad weather came in. The Scafell section was 7 miles of high mountains, remote from the roads; Scafell itself is an unfriendly mountain, like a cake iced with hundreds and thousands the size of TV-sets (and not pink), making it difficult to follow paths.
After a disturbed night (I was worrying about not having done any training), we rose at 5.30 for the weigh-in and start. Everyone was carrying at least 9kgs with their paragliders, helmets, harnesses, food etc. Having gathered everyone for the start, Gordie said ‘One, two, three…’ and then ‘go!’ over his shoulder as he ran towards to the bottom end of the park. Others sprinted off in different directions, just like the 100m Race for People With No Sense of Direction. I turned to the bloke next to me, whose pack towered over his head, “I can’t believe they’re running!”
Mike Hibbit, Bob Johnson and I trailed Gordie up Skiddaw. It was mild and dry, but amazingly windy. So windy that you could make comedy jowls by opening your mouth and letting your cheeks be inflated by the wind. We almost crawled to the summit. Running down hills was my plan, but my pack was too low down on my back to do this in comfort, except on steep sections. Meanwhile, Steve Nash was flying on Cat Bells.
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But it was easy navigating, and I was down in the Park again by 9, bumping into one entrant who had elected to stay in bed with his buxom girl-friend. I left a note for John and Claire – and then bumped into them in Keswick. So we headed down the main road to Helvellyn, then all three up the brutal staircase route from Wythburn at 12.30. It was raining a little, and I was definitely feeling that some preparation would have eased the pain. Feeling pretty dull back down at the bottom, I was refreshed by tea and cakes in the heavy rain, and decided to head over to Seathwaite at the nearest roadhead to Scafell. It was now 4.30, and I didn’t feel fresh enough to do the 5 or 6 hours it would take me to complete the turnpoint and get down to the valley, but I would camp as close as possible to do the mountain in the morning. |
| Jenkin Hill with Scafell in the far distance |
The sun came out on the tramp up the Wythburn valley to cross Greenup Edge, and I bumped into another chap who had come from Scafell. He said his moving-map GPS had given him confidence to do the Scafell section. Booms of thunder came from the clouds rolling in from the south-east, and it rained some more. Up on the pass, I could see the citadel of Scafell clear and in sunlight – but at 6 miles away, with difficult ground in between, and no phone signal, I wasn’t very tempted. The last I’d heard of a weather forecast was sunshine and showers for Sunday, with a south-easterly wind. At least that would allow an easy trip up Scafell and a fly-down from Latrigg to finish in Fitz Park in style.
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I was slowing and slowing and it was after 8.30 before I passed the pub at Rosthwaite and trogged round the road to Seathwaite, in England’s wettest valley. It was nearly dark before I crashed into the tent that John and Claire had put up. I had thought of sleeping in my goretex bivvy bag wrapped in my glider. This probably would have been fine apart from arranging everything in the continuous rain on slushy ground. Soon after dark, three gunshots came from nearby in quick succession. If someone was going postal, they would have to shoot me where I lay, after 31 miles and 15 hours on the go. |
| Wyth Burn as the thunder started |
It rained all night, and I didn’t sleep well for thinking about navigating on Scafell. Getting lost is fine if you have plenty of miles in your legs – soaked through and weary, it’s altogether less amusing. Leaving at 6, past Styhead Tarn, I was bemused to find a group of teenage girls marking the turn up the Corridor Route, and groups of people coming down. I was so delighted to be at the summit before 9, that I carelessly wandered off on the wrong route down in the mist, wasting half an hour, after not believing my compass. It was a long drag down the mountain – the stone steps that they have laid on the paths are brilliant for following but hard on the knees – I was glad I was now using my Tesco Finest* Walking Poles, and spurred to carry on by the fact I was raising some money – I knew everyone would have finished long since. By half two I was walking across the cricket pitch in Fitz Park, and I felt quite emotional as they clapped me in. Steve Nash had won in only 11 hours.
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| Dragging up Borrowdale |
The event could be made less hard-core and attract more people by swapping the inaccessible Scafell for a less hostile mountain, but that might take away the fun.
Next time I’ll do some training, and the weather will be so good we’ll be wafted by gentle winds from Cat Bells to Styhead Tarn, and Whelp Side to Clough Head, to tea on the lawns of Fitz Park.
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| Finished! | Gordie Oliver giving the prizes |
Well, time for my brief story. In the days leading up to the event, I had an excellent back-up crew who was keeping me motivated despite the deteriorating weather forecasts. I had a route planned right up until the change of rules that meant we could take the peaks in any order. At that point I had no idea which route I would take, because I would decide on the morning of day one. So, I cancelled my back-up crew and decided to just amble around taking everything I needed along with me.
I decided to attempt this challenge without going lightweight. Reasons for this - I don't want to buy another glider when mine still works OK, and if there is a chance of flying then I want a glider I am used to. My only sacrifice to light weight was ditching the reserve, but I was hesitating about that because I thought there might be a chance to fly some time late on Saturday, and I chose my route with this in mind. My hastily concocted plan was to do Helvellyn first so that I was approaching Scafell Pike with the wind behind me, timed so that I was in a launchable place somewhere above Seathwaite at the right time and fly towards Cat Bells as the wind dropped later in the day. I knew there was no chance of me winning a "walking/running" event, but if I could fly with my own familiar glider then I stood a chance.
My pack weight was around 16kg, not too bad I thought, but a bit bulky in the standard glider bag. For attempted water-proofing I had a bin bag stuffed over the top of the glider bag.
As we lined up to go and Gordie shouted "off", I couldn't believe that most people set off at a run. I walked casually out of the Fitz Park gates, with Dangerous Dave driving past asking if I wanted a lift! Walking the roads towards Thirlspot car park I was quite pleased with my progress, thankful for choosing my rather worn walking shoes instead of flying boots. At the car park I stopped for a rest and my first sandwich, and took some time to carefully re-do my waterproofing by making holes in the bin bag and threading the straps through; it was looking like rain quite soon, and I made sure my waterproof cycling poncho was handy.
As I climbed higher, the gale force winds coming down the hill made progress extremely difficult, and quite often I had to grab hold of rocks to stop myself being blown over, sometimes waiting for several seconds before letting go to move on and then stopping again with the next gust. Unfortunately, one of these gusts caught me out, and I then wished I had my flying boots instead of old worn out walking shoes! With a little pain in my ankle, I decided to press on towards the Helvellyn summit, but the wind strength made this quite a dangerous ascent. Eventually I got there, a walker took my proof photo using my mobile phone - it's a great shot but I have no idea how to transfer it to PC! Continuing down to Wythburn, the descent was very slow because I was now having to position carefully for each step to reduce the ankle pain, and this was then putting strain on my knee. The black sky soon produced torrential rain, and I decided that to continue beyond Wythburn towards Scafell would just not be sensible. My poncho was blowing around so much that it was not giving any protection from the rain, so I just tied it around my neck (not too tight though!) and got wet. Almost at the car park, and I meet Roger Fowkes on his way up - he's already done Scafell Pike. Shortly afterwards there is Steve Nash, also having done Scafell pike. Arriving at Wythburn car park at about 12.15, having taken as long coming down as it did going up, I am immediately met by Jan Little, who offers hot orange juice; Chris had also just left. With rain pouring down I gratefully accept a lift back to Fitz Park with Jan, where I can change into my flying boots and dry clothes. On opening my pack I also find the waterproof coat I had stuffed in - I should have been wearing that instead of carrying it!
The rest of the day is spent hanging around the event, taking a lift with Chris Field to watch Nick Ogden coming past Seathwaite, then back to Fitz Park to see that Steve and Roger have just finished.
Thanks for organising this Gordie, a fantastic very rewarding and enjoyable event.