in the Howgills

Chris Branford writes:

The weekend of 27-28th Oct was also the Mountain Marathon in the Lake District and a number of local members and ex members were competing in this.

Best result went to Jon Brooke (WSX) who was 9th in the elite.  Tim Britton (ex WIM) and Keith Agnem (BOK) were 10th in A, Mark Bentley (WIM) and Jamie Ransom (ex WIM and Kerno) were 5th in B, Steve Mallison and Jo Pickering (both WIM) were 114th in Medium Score, Keith Henderson and John Walmesley (both WIM) were 68th in Short Score and Karen French and Jane Smith (both WIM) 82nd in Short Score.  Many of the classes had up to 300 teams running and I believe there were more than 3000 runners in all.  Well done to everyone- outstanding results.

  

And now, a strangely arachnoidal perspective from John Walmsley...

We flew round the last 5 controls in under an hour, descending out of the mist as we did so.  At the day 1 finish was an old friend who commented “you two look like you could go round again!”  I turned to Keith and said “do you know, I think we could!” It was a great run and we were lying 21st overnight.  Except…….

…..that was the KIMM 1990, and now we are 22 years older.  A tad wiser perhaps, but distinctly slower and more decrepit.  On top of that Keith has kept the medical profession rather busier in the last 18 months than anyone would have wished, and my excuse is that I have been out of running for over 2 months with tendonitis.  But we are just as keen as we were 22 years ago, and think that a womble round the Short Score class in this year’s OMM (the successor to the KIMM) is a realistic prospect.  So we both start training again with a bare 3 weeks to go.  In my case this involves walking up and down the scarp slope of Watership Down (yes that Watership Down) three times, turning my legs to jelly in the process.  Keith has a more innovative training regime which involves going on a Mediterranean cruise and eating as much as possible.  Thus suitably tuned up we find ourselves on a bright and frosty morning on the southern slopes of the Howgill Fells awaiting our start time.

Immediately we get the map we realise there is a big strategic decision to make.  At some point we have to cross the road in the valley that divides the West and East Howgills from one another.  Because of extensive out of bounds markings this is only possible in 3 places, of which 2 are just too far away to be viable in the 5 hour limit.  I spot a conservative route that can be extended slightly to pick up an extra control if we are going well.  Keith has his eyes on an extra 2 controls, but only time will tell.  Straight from the start 400m of unrelenting ascent nets us 25 points and takes us over the summit of Arrant Haw.  It is very cold, and the strong wind makes it feel positively arctic.  We are fully togged up, hats, gloves and gortex jackets, yet in no danger of overheating despite the rapid expenditure of calories.  With his balaclava and running tights Keith looks rather like a comic book superhero, Spiderman perhaps.

A severe down and up to collect a 20 pointer is the trigger for Keith to start making dying noises.  Being an unsympathetic sort, I have for many years regarded these sounds merely as evidence of activity, and I know I only really have to worry if he falls silent.    The next down and up is even bigger, but necessary if we want the 30 pointer on a ruined sheepfold.  Get it we do, but it convinces Keith that going for an outlying control to the north is not on, and that we have to start heading over to the other side of the range.  On the ascent Spiderman seems to be having trouble producing his sticky web stuff that enabled him to swing majestically from peak to peak in years gone by, and for a while it looks like we will be very tight for time.  However we manage to jog most of the way down from The Calf to the 40 pointer just north of Cautley Spout, and by the time we have crossed the road and started the ascent up the fell on the other side I have become more confident of avoiding time penalties.   In the end we stroll into camp with a comfortable 13 minutes to spare.

Before too long the ladies team (Karen and Jane) make their arrival, and we are soon also joined by the mixed team (Jo and Steve) to make a rather sociable corral of WIM tents on the camping field.   As usual it is a long night and my feet are never quite warm enough, but despite that I get my quota of sleep.  In fact the outside temperature goes up a few degrees, but the rain has started and the mist is well down by dawn.

Straight out of the day 2 start Spiderman is back in form, hurtling down the first descent and leaving me in his webby wake.  He is keen to go for a detour to net an extra 10 pointer early on, but I want to get nearer the finish before taking even the slightest risk.  I feel somewhat justified as I start to get my own back on the other side of the valley, but Spidey hurls a web 250m up the hill to snare a control on a small crag and slowly we haul it in.  Up on the main ridge conditions are very testing in the rain and strong wind.   This encourages us into a jog more often than yesterday, a good way to keep warm even if we are now distinctly damp. Things are looking hopeful that we may be able to diverge from a straight line route to the finish, in order to grab one extra control.  To do this though, we need to identify a rather vague spur in the mist.  It seems to crop up too early, but we convince ourselves that our better speed today accounts for its premature appearance.  Down we go and, hey presto, the right sort of lumps and bumps materialise out of the mist and we spike the control perfectly.

 Not many minutes later we arrive at the compulsory last control, and from here it is just a kilometre to coast straight down the hill on good grassy terrain.  Such is our speed now that Spidey actually has to throw a web out backwards, and use its threads for braking effect.  At the finish is a man with a camera and, even better, cups of hot tea and soup. 

Over the next few hours Spiderman morphs back into his human alter ego as mild mannered Keith Henderson, and goes for a celebratory beer and a pub meal with his trusty assistant.  The results come through by text.  We are right in the middle of the field overall (69th overall) and 15th on veterans handicap, not bad at all.  The rest of the pub seem unaware of the superhero in their midst, but a keen observer might realise that Spiderman and Keith have exactly the same grin.  That’s a dead giveaway if you ask me, as is the fact that Keith will soon be travelling home to “Webbs Close” in Ringwood. 

But you won’t tell the world will you?