BGR 27th May Part 3 (final)

Andrew had everything ready, tea, soup, cous cous, hot dog, and my box with spare rations and medical supplies. Someone massaged deep heat into my aching anterior tibialis, both legs (Who was it please? Thank you, it worked). This muscle is prone to tightening, I think due to stiffness in my ankles, which has been the cause of shin splints for me in the past.

How was it that I forgot my food? I remember drinking the tea, it was just right, and trying and failing to drink the soup (it made me feel sick) – but the soup was there to be added to the cous cous to make it nice and sloppy. How did I forget about the cous cous? It was right there with the tea and soup. Idiot girl! The leg two crew had done so well to keep me fed, I let them down here.

I asked about Nigel and was told he was off the hill but that my waterproof trousers he was carrying hadn’t been sent on…..it didn’t occur to me to ask why. I’d been wearing Andrews since Threlkeld but they were too big, did not have an elasticated waist and they’d been falling down. A very funny sight I must’ve made with them tucked into my socks but repeatedly falling down to my knees! After the descent off Fairfield I noticed they’d come untucked from my socks and were half way over my shoes. A stop was needed to beat them back into submission; they seemed to have a life of their own! Bill generously leant me his OMM trousers to continue with. Thanks Bill.

The climb up Steel Fell was a little slow, I had been suffering from mild bouts of cramp and the tight tibialis was still aching. My feet were slipping and I think it was because I was being timid about pushing off on the cramping muscles. I drank Nuun and ate everything that was sent my way including more gels. I must’ve taken an hour to get down a peanut cliff bar and a piece of Yiannis crisp bread. That peanut cliff bar would normally act like rocket fuel, and maybe it did, but if so I didn’t notice and it wasn’t enough.

The aches vanished but I became increasingly fatigued as we made our way straight into the wind and driving rain over ground that was completely waterlogged. I was sinking up to my knees at times. I remember saying to Morgan ‘Why are we in a Bog?’ The reply was that this was the wettest part of the round; it certainly was on this occasion. I had no memory of anything that wet when I’d recced that section at Easter (but then Easter was a scorcher wasn’t it!).

The wind seemed stronger than ever and I was having fearful thoughts about how I’d stay upright on the more exposed rockier sections we were approaching. I’ve been blown off my feet before (during the Borrowdale OMM, the first time being carried by the wind for a frightening distance before diving for the ground to escape) and was only too aware of my vulnerability especially when amongst rocks. I’d almost crawled to the top of one of the Stickles as the wind was howling over it with force, although I did notice Stuart stood up; he’s braver than me!

It was a relief when Morgan and Yiannis gave me the news that I was now just over an hour off schedule, that the weather was showing no sign of improvement, that there were options, and what would I like to do. Morgan took Stuart back to Wasdale where he had family waiting for him, and to alert the road crew of the situation, and Yiannis led me down to Langdale with £25 slightly soggy notes supplied by Morgan.

Reality hit and I shed a tear or two as I followed Yiannis round the back of Rossett Pike and into the sheltered Langdale valley. I now had time to look around and notice how stunning the scenery was with white streaks of water coming off the hills all around, and bright green summer fresh grass contrasted with blood red shiny wet rocks under my feet. It was beautiful. I’d stopped eating and the fatigue increased. I plodded down distracted by chatting with Yiannis, but on heavy legs.

We stumbled into the Old Dungeon Ghyll Hotel reception (well I did, Yiannis of course managed something more dignified than that!) and explained our circumstances as briefly as possible. We were shown down to the drying room and discarded our wet shoes, socks and waterproofs. A breakfast table had been laid for us complete with white cloth. We sat sodden and shivering on the wicker chairs feeling like a freak exhibit for the hotel guests! The hotel staff were wonderful. There was no fuss, they refused to be concerned by our wet state and the effect it might have on the furnishings, and they looked after us as though we were booked in fully paying guests. We had pots of tea and coffee and baked beans on toast and when we’d finished we were shown into the lounge (the lovely smart lounge filled with comfy sofas) and the fire was lit for us. It was there that Andrew and Morgan found us, with socks off sitting on the floor toasting in front of a roaring log fire complete with more fresh tea and coffee. We offered to pay for the service we’d received but only a token amount was accepted. The hospitality and friendliness of the Lakeland people never ceases to warm me.

There is a further sad note to this adventure. Our friend Nigel who became separated from us on the parachute descent had had an accident and it was still not known what condition he was in. Andrew and Trevor (my very able and worthy road crew) had called mountain rescue when he didn’t appear in reasonable time. We knew he’d been air lifted to hospital and we knew he had a broken arm and head injury, but we didn’t know how bad it was. Yiannis gently broke the news over breakfast when I asked again what had had happened to him (meaning to discover how he’d managed to fall behind). My tears had to be suppressed for the sake of public decency but it was a painful moment and my heart was in my socks – cold wet socks hanging limp in the basement drying room. I can shed a few more now whilst I write this; there’s no one here to see.

We know now that Nigel is ok. He’s had an operation on his arm as it was broken quite badly, and has had stitches to the cut on his head. He has a fracture to his skull but makes little of this saying it is minor and will heal. He’d had the sense to put on my waterproof trousers and had managed to keep warm enough to fend off hypothermia, although I know he must have been very cold. Nigel, if you’re reading this, you were incredibly brave, still are, and I hope you recover quickly and fully. Thank you for your help and support. I know your BG plans have been spoilt but I hope that when you do go on and complete it, your victory will be all the sweeter for the suffering you’ve to tolerate.

I would of course like to thank everyone involved, including the mountain rescue team, the hospital staff that treated Nigel, and the hotel staff that welcomed Yiannis and I and made us comfortable in our moment of need. My crew, and all others who have supported me and contributed with advice and encouragement.

I will be back for another attempt, but next time I intend it to be a much quieter affair, and hopefully a dryer less windy one too. Watch this space.

BGR 27th May Part 2

As we made our way from Clough Head over the Dodds the weather became increasingly worse. We were fighting against strong wind with hefty gusts and driving rain. My crew were brilliant. The navigation was excellent in very challenging conditions and the support was undoubtedly the best I could have asked for.

I was struggling to eat and Andrew McC badgered me relentlessly feeding me his own gels at half hour intervals. At some point a banana was produced which went down much easier than I anticipated. It’s hard to describe running and climbing with a stomach that feels like mine did, all I can say is that it felt heavy and ached, and I dearly wished it would settle. It wasn’t going to!

At one point (I think as we climbed White Side) Martyn, Stu and Andrew Mc C (I think, but in the dark it was hard to tell and Tom R was there too) made a human wall to shelter Helen and I. Helen made a comment about the great view which I suspect was the only time I managed a laugh on that leg. Fit men in tights, I will say no more!

When we reached the Helvellyn ridge the wind hit an all time high. I had Andrew McC on one side and Stuart on the other and between them they anchored me down but kept me moving. I remember seeing a dark abyss through the cloud; knowing there was a steep drop straight off the side with the wind blowing over it was a sobering experience. I didn’t see much of Bill and Tom P as they were up ahead navigating, with Bill sweeping for paths and trods.

The peak of Nethermost Pike is notoriously hard to find in the dark, not being particularly well marked and in a widespread sea of pointed rocks. It is even harder to find in low cloud but find it we did with no small amount of stumbling involved.

The descent off Dollywaggon Pike is grassy and very steep. In the wet, despite having the best footwear available, I slipped a few times and was glad to reach the bottom. It was sheltered there and I walked rather than ran to the foot of Fairfield relieved for a bit of respite from the wind.

I’d planned to take the grassy direct route up Fairfield but was feeling the toll of the effort so far and willingly followed the lead up the zig zaggy path. Looking at my times it was a slow climb and I remember being relieved to reach the peak. The return down was straight into driving rain, the sort that stings, making it very difficult to see. My eyes were red raw and stinging the next day.

I like the climb up Seat Sandal as it is a bit of a rocky scramble, steep enough to get my hands on the ground. It was very wet with water running down but it had the benefit of being sheltered.

The drop down to Dunmail Raise was another slippery affair and I found the going a little tricky. I was glad to see the lights below and even more pleased to hear Andrew calling me in.

BGR 27th May part 1

Having been cheated out of my first attempt at a BGR by a random stomach bug, it was with a certain amount of trepidation that I stood outside the Moot Hall waiting for the clock to hit 7pm.

I’d managed to assemble another impressive team for support and knew that I’d done everything possible to prepare for this attempt. I spoke to my pacers at the Moot Hall asking them to let it be known if any of them was falling behind or struggling to keep up; last time my pacer carrying my kit bag had been left behind, I didn’t want anything like that happening again.

I’ve always been a moody eater and any sign of illness or anxiety can switch off my appetite completely. It’s normal for me to struggle to eat on race days, I often forget to eat race day breakfast if I’m busy and distracted, and so far the only breakfast I’ve been able to get down on day two of a mountain marathon is custard (yuck but at least I can drink it). Out of necessity Lucozade gels, Lucozade drink and Nuun have been my primary fuel source. I knew this was not ideal and Andrew has taken pains to encourage me to eat solid food when we’ve been out training, which had gone well, but that was in training, not racing or a bg.

After two days of no appetite and forced meals, I set off with a stomach that felt like it had a rock in it. Here I was again climbing Skiddaw refusing offers of food, kidding myself it was only the first climb on leg one, my stomach would settle and that it didn’t matter I could eat later.

We were moving well despite there being a strong wind particularly on Skiddaw. Gav P lent me an arm and shelter against the gusts. Persistent rain set in and the cloud base was low. Despite the rain, the Caldew was no more than knee deep, but the ground over Mungrisdale Common was wet and my feet were numb. I didn’t notice the sun set but had my headtorch on as we climbed Blencathra. The visibility was poor and as we set off down the parachute all I could see of Yiannis was some reflective strip on the backs of his tights. This improved rapidly as we dropped below cloud level. At some point Nigel became separated from the group and there was much calling and waving of torches. I was getting cold and we continued, trusting he would follow.

I ran into Threlkeld 13 minutes ahead of schedule. I reported that Nigel had been left behind and after a rushed change of clothes I set off with my leg 2 crew.

I couldn’t eat my food at the road stop, but I’d anticipated this and had arranged for Andrew to send my crew with a cut up hot dog for me and to put my cous cous in a plastic mug so I could eat it on my way. Did I eat them? No, my tummy still felt like it had a rock in it, was concave with a cramp and hurt. What was that about? I don’t know but I paid for it climbing Clough Head as I lost 15 minutes.