Keep on Running

 

Only one who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go. -T.S.Eliot

 

Well it’s done, the big one the Bob Graham Round, or as it’s become know in this house simply the BG. It’s not just Mr Uhdd that’s exhausted, whilst he has more reason to be so than the rest of us, the boys and I are never the less, totally pooped.

How to tell you what it was like, I think we might have to have a guest post from Mr Uhdd for that, I can only tell you what it was like from the bottom of the hill. The weather was bad, out off the 44 peaks climbed, there were no more than a handful that weren’t shrouded in low cloud and whilst we are delighted, relieved that it went so well for Mr Uhdd and ‘Laid Back Runner’ others didn’t have it so good and had to retire, I was a bit of a loss as to what to say to them, you could see they were gutted, I suspect they will regroup and give it another go. And there were a lot of runners out there, the challenge starts at the Moot Hall in the centre of Keswick at midnight on Friday night, and there must have 50-60 people gathered to give them a good send off, in addition to the towns Friday night revelers, who seemed to think we might be the start of a party.

After they had gone and we went back to the climbing club bunk house that was ‘mission control’ I tried very hard not to think of them out on the fells, running in the dark, rain wind and low cloud, but as I heard the pacers come and go through the night, my GCSE geography, from long long ago, came into mind, hanging valleys, truncated spurs, U shaped valleys, scree slopes; which ever way you look at it, bloody big things to fall off and into.  So it was a relief when it came light, it seemed to me like one hazard  out of the way; we went to the second road crossing at Dunmail at about 7am, there were a lot of support vehicles and supporters there, not just from our club.

Looking, waiting with the kettle on, hot food ready, the next pacers ready to take over

 

There were many miss-sightings, ‘here they are, on the ridge, look’ only to realise on closer inspection, the dots were in fact sheep not runners, but on schedule, they came over the ridge

for a the briefest of stops, in the whole event, all 23hrs and 8 min, Mr Uhdd stopped, to eat drink and rest for only 38 min in total.

The running club are poetry in motion, so slick and prepared, everything is done to allow the runner to do just that, to keep on running. I’ve posted more photos on my Flickr site. The willingness and effort by club members, to help other  complete this challenge is impressive, sportsmanship and camaraderie at it’s best.

After we watched them leave Dunmail, there then followed a long drive (for us) around the mountains, to meet them at Wasdale,

they had a rough time on this leg and lost some time, we watched and waited

  

And saw some very nice sheep

When they came in to this check point, Mr Uhdd looked rough, he skin was grey and you could see from his bloodshot eyes he was dog tired

The climb out of this valley is murderous and I wasn’t yet confident he was going to make it, it wasn’t till he got to Honister that I felt, he could, and would do it. As they came towards Honister they decided to split up and ‘Laid Back Runner’ and his pacer went on ahead,

We waited  for them at the finish in Keswick, this time with Saturday nights town centre revelers, they both made the last push, up the main street, accompanied by much cheering from from family, friends, supporters, and anyone else who was around, to slam into the doors of the Moot Hall, job done. There were a few folk swaying around Keswick, who looked ready to slump to the floor on Saturday night,  but some have more reason than others:  ‘Laid Back Runner’ makes it to the Moot Hall

Back at ‘mission control’, the guys had to be assisted out of their running gear, showered and put to bed. The support team on the other hand, had a beer or two, it was very late, or early depending on your perspective, when I found my bunk

Numbers Game

 

Preparations continue for Mr Uhdd’s attempt on the fell running challenge ‘The Bob Graham Round’ and whilst there has been a lot of training on the fells, there has been an awful lot of work in the planning, it’s like a military operation, and Mr Uhdd’s running club are seasoned campaigners. You are not alone in this assault on 42 of Lake District summits, each runner has the fell runners equivalent of a Doula, better known as a pacer, well several in fact for, at least one for each of the 4  legs of the attempt, they keep the runner on track, carry gear, navigate and provide support, company and motivation (it’s is as  much a mental challenge as a physical one.) The attempt is an impressive team effort. As well as the pacers there will be welcome support where the route crosses roads, here preferred food and beverage along with pre-packed bags of spare clothes, back up fell shoes and other goodies will be available.

I am struggling a little with the catering, for one thing I can’t quite get my head round how your guts can cope with eating running  and digesting at the same time (and we have planned for the eventuality that they can’t) and then there is the issue of what your body will crave, under such punishing conditions, my brief is tuna sandwiches (tuna, canned in brine, he’ll need the salt) with extra mayo, to hold the thing together, energy bars and gels, cereal bars. But the feed back we get from those who have ‘been there’, is you might ask your support team to prepare a bowl of hot porridge with honey at the road crossing, a plate of pasta, or a bowl of stew; but when you get there you are likely to want to eat things you normally hate, so I am tasked with going shopping, for thing Mr Uhdd would normally never eat, ‘Cup a Soup’ and ‘Pot Noodle’s’ being my starting point.

And what to drink, well this lot for a start

We don’t as a household, use ’sports cap’ mineral water bottles as a one off disposable item, we refill them with tap water until they are worn out, and as there is no way they are going to get left on the fells, the majority of these bottles will retuning home after the event and will be falling out of the kitchen cupboards with annoying regularity for many moths if not years to come

 

Our PC has been groaning under the strain of keeping up with the barrage of GPS way points, maps, spreadsheets, schedules, emails and attachments. So here are some numbers for the geeky.

24 hours to run and climb;

42, peaks, that means if you spend a  minute at each summit, admiring the view it will add you add 42 minutes to your overall time, you can’t afford to fritter that amount of time away, some of last weekends ‘BG’ runners finished with only 5 min to spare; if you want to look at the view, go back another day and take a picnic on this occasion only running and time matter.

66miles to go, at a guesstimate of two thousand strides to the mile that equals 128,000 strides, that’s an eighth of a million

26,500 feet of ascent, not far short of an Everest, from sea level.

Its not a big job it won’t take long.

All Roads Lead to the Lake District (part III)

Buildings, fixtures and fittings

I suppose the more isolated an area the more vernacular the style of buildings, building were built to a specific style because they worked well, the local workforce knew how to build them and the building materials were readily available, its what gives an area its distinctive look.

Apologies to this family, for posting a photograph of their undergarments on the washing line across the ‘tinternet‘, it’s the house we are supposed to be looking at.

Farm buildings

This is Yew Tree Farm, as well as a working farm, it is a guest house and a cafe, it makes my heart sing, it is a business that is run with such finesse and attention to detail it is a joy to behold.

I went in the cafe for a cup of tea and a sit down, the tea is sold in half or pint mugs, you can see why this establishment has a place in my heart; the ladies in the cafe sold me a pasty, ‘just baked, fresh out of the oven’ I could write a whole blog post on this culinary delight, but a synopsis will have to do. The pastry, firm yet melt in the mouth, the filling, stuffed full of veg; potatoes carrot and marrowfat peas, farm reared lamb, with a hint of mint,served with home made chutney, eat one of these and you will never buy a ‘Gregg’s’ pasty ever again.

Fastened to the wall of the porch of Yew tree farm is the original back door of the farm, dating to C1720

I was going to say that it is it’s simplicity of its construction that appealed to me, but closer inspection shows it to have been, what I imagine for it’s period, to be ‘top of the range’, piece of joinery and a bit ‘posh’ for the average Lakeland farmhouse C1720. The face of the door is three planks of oak wide, studded with oak pegs, through to a second layer of smaller oak boards,

it is carved with a diamond pattern, (not easy to see on the photo) and the original hinges are to match.

Once upon a time some one would have been very proud of such a fine door.

All Roads Lead to the Lake District (part II)

The people

The National trust warden and his handsome dog, the third generation to accompany him in his work

The mountain biker, I told him he was looking rather photogenic, ‘Yes’ he replied you can call the shot, ‘Mountain Biker Lost’ so I did.

The farmer feeding his lambs, the black one being a bit of a maverick

The schoolkids setting out on an adventure, that was going to be wet.

The farmer, dog, sheep and lambs, heading for the fells, I think I’ve photographed him before

And last but least, Joe, doing a little archery in rather a splendid location

Joe got a little impatient waiting his turn, he claims he said he was ‘bored,’ the instructor insisted that Joe said that ‘archery was boring’ and so punished him because it isn’t!

 

It did wash off, in the end.

Plane Spotting

Lancaster fly-past marks Dambuster anniversary

 

Mr Uhdd, has been plane spotting today, so for the aviation buffs amongst you (that’s you flighty) some images; I’ve got to dash out in a moment and I won’t be back on line for a wee while, so if you are not familiar with the historical importance of the ‘Lancaster Bombers’ you had best read this, here’s an excerpt from the Independent Newspaper.

A Lancaster bomber swooped over a Peak District reservoir today to mark the 65th anniversary of the Dambusters raid.

The historic Lancaster - similar to the one used by the RAF’s 617 Squadron to successfully bomb two German dams in 1943 - flew three times along the Derwent valley as the centrepiece of a thrilling flypast.

The Derwent dam was used by the Dambusters to train ahead of their mission to destroy three dams in Germany’s Ruhr valley.

Today Squadron Leader Les Munro, the last surviving pilot from the mission codenamed Operation Chastise, was one of the guests of honour attending the service.

Also taking part in the fly-past were a Spitfire, a Hurricane, two Tornado fighters from the present 617 Squadron, and a Dakota transport plane (there is Lancaster, bottom right in this shot)

 

I must away, my carriage awaits.

He’s Back

Tom is home, he’s been away on a school ski trip

We’ve missed him, the house has been toooooo quiet, (in spite of Joe’s best efforts) when I picked him up from the airport, I wasn’t expecting him to be very lively, they had a long long journey, but he was worse than I feared; all limbs intact, which is good news, but he had but for the last couple of days of his holiday he had ‘flu’ like symptoms,cough, cold, loss of appetite and nausea; I am sure the  there are the tales of what a terrific time he had, up until then, but for now he is tired and ill and is now fast asleep.

Yay for the Lufthansa cabin crew that, noting his cough, checked how he was feeling and offered him some nasal drops to help making his ears less painful coming into land.

On the subject of flying, thank goodness we didn’t have to go any where near Heathrow’s Terminal 5 to get him home, yay for living well north of Watford Gap

Between a rock and a hard place.

Out on my travels I came upon some lovely rock, the sort of thing you have to go and take a look at and if you have a blog to feed, take photographs of for the ‘post pantry’.

I was so entranced by the stones, they’re limestone,

with chunks of fluorite, quartz and fossils in them (but not as many as fossils as this blogger found) that I didn’t hear anyone approach.

‘CAN I HELP?’ came a voice from behind me, I turned to be faced by a some what cross looking lady farmer, one hand on hip and the other holding her up her wet hair in a coiled towel; her body language led me to conclude my interest in these fine lumps of rock was not welcome.

‘I was just admiring these lumps of rock, they are beautiful’ phew, I’ve said the right thing, the lady farmer relaxed a little.

‘Do you like them? they are for my rockery’, she enthused, ‘I was just washing my hair, when I saw you by the gate, I thought you were from the council, I was already to tell you they are on private land and to clear off’

She went on to explain that they had been excavated by a friend who was making some alterations to some farm buildings, (now if I had lumps of rock this big any where near the foundations of my property I would leave them there, especially as the the geology of the area means that it is riddled with old mine workings and huge natural caverns.

We went on to discuss what make a ‘nice’ lump of rock, dry stone walls and parted, despite the initial hostility as friends, by mutual interests.

Worth the Wait

It was worth the wait, for when the sun did drop below the clouds

and behind the hill, it enabled me to bring you a silhouette of a dry stone wall, rather than a tree

Then I walked home,

Beauty and the Beast

Compare and contrast; I try and bring you a few snippets of rural life and it’s usually from a Northern UK perspective,but today I must point you in the direction of a rural pursuit in the US,

I read about it on the Digital Cuttlefish blog it’s about a beauty pageant with a difference, please trust me, it is rural, just not my rural.

In the UK we aren’t big on the whole beauty pageant thing, some villages have May queen festivals I suppose, but it’s in a different league to this; as this pageant combines the young ladies talents of ’strutting her stuff’ on the cat walk and…… wait for it…. skinning muskrats,

The winner of this particular contest was ‘a lovely brunette who skinned two muskrats in one minute, forty-two seconds.’ The combination of the two events looks as bizarre as it sounds, so on the recommendation of the Digital Cuttlefish,

‘go read!(Washington Post article) In addition, there is an audiovisual montage that is wonderfully put together. The last picture features the winner, resplendent in her white evening gown, posing happily with a dead muskrat slung over her shoulder.’

And while you watch, keep in your minds eye an image of Clarissa Dickson Wright and the Country Alliance

Its a world apart.

If you enjoyed the Digital Cuttlefish post poetic stance on life try reading this one, it’s bound to raise a smile

Technorati Tags: Muskrats, Beauty Pageants, Country Alliance, Fox hunting, Hare coursing, Blood sports

First warning

Red in a morning shepherds warning, so the saying goes, more photographs of photogenic clouds, these were taken at 07:00 today

Less photogenic would have been the sight of me dressed in a cyclamen pink fluffy dressing gown and flora print Wellington boots, stood in the middle of the field taking the pictures, I hope the neighbours weren’t looking

(you’ve seen so many photos of theses silhouetted trees, that you will be on first name terms with them soon.)

The departure of the boys (all three of them) this morning was somewhat fraught, so much kit, gear, equipment and general stuff to go with them, the kitchen looked like a baggage handlers strike at Heathrow airport, even the dog who is usually baying to leave with her pack, heaved a sigh of relief as the door shut behind them. I am just as bad, we just don’t seem to manage ‘traveling light’ any more (did we ever, probably not.)

 

Oh and an early warning that it is Mothering Sunday this Sunday, don’t say I didn’t warn you, this years early Easter is bound to catch a few out ( for overseas visitors, Mothering Sunday in the UK is the 4th Sunday in lent and is therefore a movable feast!) More flowery tales later.