 |
| Start of the race from the foot of Cat Bells on a really fine Lakes day. (Thanks to Andy Russell of NFR for th photo). |
For those who
don’t know, the idea for this race was born seventeen years ago out of the
marriage of Steve and Wynn Cliff, which took place in the little church at
Little Town in the Newlands
Valley. They fell in love
with the place so much they decided to do something for the local community and
so they organised this race to raise money for the village hall. The race
already has the reputation as a classic
and a must do early season race for many fell runners.
For a mere £8.00
you get to run 12 miles with 4200 feet of climbing which takes in the summits
of Robinson, Hindscarth, Dalehead, High Spy, Maiden Moor (if you want to) and
last but not least, the fearsome Catbells. During those few miles it manages to
cater for the preferences of most types of runner or even outdoor
enthusiast. There is even free food and
real ale at the finish.
The race is held
just outside the tiny hamlet of Stair in the Newlands Valley
just west of Keswick. It begins with an uphill dash through a field which XC
experts might appreciate. A bottleneck
though a gate leads to a short stretch of road which gives way to two and a
half miles of good running on a gently undulating track that is sure to keep
trail addicts happy. Then the serious stuff starts with a long steep climb up
the first hill, Robinson which will surely be appreciated by any keen fell
walkers in the field. Half way up there is even an optional bit of scrambling
for rock climbers to enjoy.
At the top,
whilst catching your breath, take a moment to savour the views of the broad
sunlit uplands that surround you before you embark on a wonderfully fast grassy
descent on your still fresh legs down Littledale Edge. At the bottom you turn
North for a brief detour to Hindscarth the second summit of the day. Reversing
your route, another fast down hill run leads to another short climb along a
ridge onto the spacious summit of Dalehead, the highest point of the race. This summit can be recognised even in the
thickest mist by its large rather beautiful and finely proportioned cairn.
 |
| If you'd like to skip DJ's route description - then here's the Harvey's map ! |
Now you have a
decision to make before setting off for your next objective, a long descent to
Dalehead Tarn. There are three
possibilities and once again the race gracefully caters for a variety of preferences.
You can head left and go safely down the walker’s path or, if you think your
legs can take the strain, take the direct route down a steep grassy but in
parts rather rocky slope. The third option is strictly for the connoisseur
because you head off in completely the wrong direction and pelt down grass on
an easy gradient before sweeping back left to the tarn. This is the longest way
and it needs either some prior knowledge to find it, or a confident looking
local vest to follow.
Just before the tarn
there are some streams and it can be useful to know that this is your last
chance for some free liquid refreshment until you reach the beer at the finish.
The tarn also
marks the point where you thankfully turn for home, but first you are rather
cruelly forced to go 500 feet up hill. This is actually the second biggest
climb of the day and takes you to the summit of High Spy, another finely
cairned hill.
There is a reward
for your efforts in the form of a gentle descent and a more or less flat section.
There are a few minor route options available hereabouts as you don’t actually
have to go to the top of the next hill, Maiden Moor. Now comes another
exhilarating downhill, if your legs will cooperate, but it’s tempered by the
view of yet another hill that you have to climb. At least Catbells is the last
one and it’s well to have a bit in reserve here because the descent down the
other side is rather steep.
Oh, and there is
one last obstacle to get over here, often literally, as Catbells is usually festooned
with walkers of all ages and all stages of decrepitude. So before you start
going down you may have to push one or two over the edge to clear your way. On
the plus side they can be useful to break your fall should your legs completely
give way.
And now you can
see the finish so you set off on a final madcap rush on legs which will
undoubtedly be screaming out for mercy. Not before time you rejoin the trail
that you started out on a few hours before and the angle eases. Down you go
along the road, turn into the field and career down the same bit of grassy
pasture to collapse in a heap at the finishing line. It’s over, well almost
because now you have to try and stand up again to walk half a mile to the
village hall. There is however the heavenly prospect of free beer and food to
spur you on.
This year, three
Polyfellers, four if you count yours truly who accidentally brought the wrong
colour vest ;-)) (again), (well it was an NFR championship race), took part in
the race. It was a very experienced squad
who lived up to their hardly won reputation by trotting out a variety of
plausible excuses before the start of the race. I was sorely lacking in hill
work this year. Martin had only been
doing an average of fifteen miles a week of late. Trevor had tapered by doing
his usual seventy miles a week and Mal had been out for a long day on the fells
the day before.
As well as the
Poly, there were also squads from several other local clubs, notably Esk Valley,
Saltwell Harriers, NFR and South Shields with
the latter two in particular having some handy runners out.
Conditions were
pretty good and it was a sunny, but slightly cool day. There was a headwind for
the first half of the race which is just what you want when you are mainly
going up hill but at least all the snow and ice had finally melted.
We started on
time at 11am with the traditional cavalry charge for the farm gate. Martin soon
vanished into the distance and Trevor was off like a rocket as well. I tried in
vain to keep up but just succeeded in half wrecking myself and fended up
feeling so bad I almost packed it in. I consoled myself with the thought I'd
get him back on the climb. I noticed Mal was doggedly sticking to my heels.
I saw Trevor take
the direct route to the ridge but I followed the fell running legend that is
Wendy Dodds, on a rising traverse to join the ridge closer to the summit.
I lost sight of
Mal here who may have taken the same route as Trevor. When I reached the top of
Robinson I thought I saw the Poly vest of Martin already starting the climb up
to Hindscarth. I wouldn't see him gain in the race I thought to myself, but
likewise I didn't expect to see Trevor again either. I was confident that I had
sneaked ahead of him on the way up. I enjoyed the blast down Little Dale Edge but
my enjoyment was spoiled and my morale
took a knock when I caught a brief glimpse of Trevor coming down from
Hindscarth and going well, as I was still going up it.
On the way up
Dalehead I caught a lad from Saltwell Harriers and we had a brief natter before
I drew ahead. As usual I opted for the direct route to the tarn and this time
it didn't feel too bad and I was thinking I had managed to keep up a decent
speed until the Saltwell Lad caught me. We briefly resumed our conversation
until he began to pull ahead
Then I saw Trevor
just ahead and I increased my speed and caught him on the start of the climb up
High Spy. He said he was tired, or words to that affect so I offered him the
last of my energy drink which he gratefully accepted. I made a real effort to
get far ahead on the climb because I thought he might catch me on the flatter
terrain that was to come.
As Ia result
I once again caught up with Saltwell Man
and in fact I exchanged places with him twice more before I unexpectedly had
the last laugh and passed him on the way up Catbells. I was sure though that he
would get me on the downhill run in to the finish. Halfway down I heard
footsteps rapidly closing in and I thought, “Here he comes”. But it wasn't him,
it was a long legged lady from Cumberland Fell Runners who was fairly tearing
down the hill. She flew past me and I tried to respond and catch her but failed
dismally, although I did manage to pass a chap from faraway Exmoor Harriers
just before the finish line.
As expected,
Martin Frost was the first Poly runner home in a very creditable 2 hours 18
minutes and with the loss of only two toenails.
I finished some 13 minutes later but with all nails intact, just in time
to see Martin suffer such an attack of cramp that he couldn’t reach to get his
socks off. I was about to offer assistance until I realised the abominable
sight that removing the aforesaid garments would undoubtedly reveal.
Five minutes
later along came Trevor Wakenshaw who with a malicious smirk revealed that just
before he had taken the last of my water, he had drunk his fill from a nearby
stream!! Needless to say several four letter words immediately sprung to mind
when I learned this. Next to finish was
Mal Slater who crossed the line in 2 hours 43 minutes. Hot soup, a freshly
baked roll, a beer and a few words with the great Wendy Dodds completed yet
another excellent day of Lakeland
fell racing
The race was won
by local runner Carl Bell in 1 hour 34 minutes, who has now won the last three Lakeland races. Olivia
Walwyn was first lady only 15 minutes behind him.
Results here :http://www.anniversarywaltz.co.uk/?p=293
David Johnson
