Of fools and showers…

Good morning folks

Here is the latest collection of loose ramblings that I call a blog.
Spring doesn’t seem to have sprung, unless the future is just a cold and rainy mess. I am hopeful for warmer days ahead!

St. George’s

The youngster was chosen as flag carrier for her Brownies group at the York St. George’s day parade.

Being the hopeless tourist I am (having lived in Peru for almost 10yrs, I never made it to Macchu Pichu), until last weekend I had never been to York Minster!

I have rectified that now, having been twice in 2 days.

A rehearsal on Saturday night, where the Nipper got her first glimpse of what adults do on a night out. (York was on full Hen Do form with a lot of revellers worse for wear by 7pm!)

On the big day (Sunday), the weather was glorious and the crowds turned out in force. I have never been involved in a parade before, it felt a bit like a really slow race, with nobody trying to win.

All went well, nobody got lost and everyone went home happy 🙂

Time for a decent race?

Ever the optimist, after 4 stinkers, I must surely be due a half decent race.
(Not including Borrowdale last year when I bashed my ribs in 10mins after the start, which would make it 5-in-a-row).

Half Trog – November – Half of “The Beast”. Took a flying fall and almost knocked myself out. Got lost twice but finished.

Tour of Pendle – November – End of season classic. Just had one of those days when my legs didn’t want to move, took about 3hrs to get going, by which time it was almost over.

Blakey Blitz – April – First race of the year, rusty as anything, never got going until final uphill mile.

Eskdale Elevation – April – Hmmm…

After all heading up to Wasdale on the Friday, the shocking forecast proved to be shockingly true. Cold, clag with visibility of 50yds-ish. Wet rain (very wet rain) and strong winds on the tops.

In the club hut where we stayed, we were joined by 2 fellrunners (father and son) who were out to recce part of the Bob Graham Round and Old County Tops route. We were a little sceptical of the weather, but you do just have to get on with things 🙂
We had a good chat about all things mountain related.

A small field of runners (enter on the day maybe swayed a few folk?)

The girls would see me off, jump on “Laal Ratty” and we would all arrive back at the car, around the same time, that was the plan.
The Eskdale Elevation is a relatively new classic AL Lakes race, 4 checkpoints with free route choice, starting at the lovely little hamlet of Boot, heading to CP1 (a gate), up the back of the Screes to Whin Rigg (CP2), a long haul over to and up Scafell (CP3), then a tumbling descent to Eel Tarn (CP4) and home.

I knew the course as far as Scafell pretty well but was worried about the last bit, as that part of Eskdale looks very samey-samey and finding a tarn in the mist could be tricky.

Uphill start, into the gloom, legs slashed to ribbons through the gorse, over the back of the Screes, found a good “trod” to the dip near Burnmoor Tarn and then came across 2 other groups of runners all coming from very different directions!

Upped the pace up Scafell with a bloke from Ambleside AC, with the weather getting wetter, wilder and colder. I really pitied the 2 marshalls on top, as it was GRIM.

I had written some compass bearings down on my map, but in the dash to get off high ground, I misread them. Running into a bitterly cold headwind and with icy horizontal rain in your eyes, it was definitely teetering on the very edge of Type 2 and Type 3 fun.

I also had the added challenge (excuse) of wearing a new-ish pair of shoes which were as grippy on wet rock as roller skates covered in vaseline!
If you don’t have 100% trust in your footwear, you are going backwards.

The few other runners around me had disappeared into the mist and I desperately tried to loose as much height as quickly as possible to get out of the weather. I had most of my kit on by this point and the thought of turning an ankle and having to walk down was simply unthinkable. I laid down behind a rock at one point to take another bearing and then got the hell out of dodge!

One problem with being lost is that you do start to convince yourself that where you are is where you want to be, or you look at features on the map (knolls and streams, of which there were plenty) and mould them into the features you want them to be. I wasn’t exactly lost, but I wasn’t where I thought I was and hoped to be!

So, after 45 minutes of running round in circles, (I wasn’t even close to Eel Tarn) I decided to bail.

(After the race start, the girls had taken the “Laal Ratty” steam train from Boot to the coast at Ravenglass, by this point they would have been back and waiting for me).

I took a bearing due south to hit the road and ended up about 2.5miles away from the finish, necessitating a tarmac path of shame, to report to the finish and declare myself disqualified.

(Apparently a lot of people had issues finding CP4, and either went back to the last checkpoint, or declared themselves DNF).

The Nipper hadn’t seen me at a race since she was a tiddler (Lima Marathon 2017?) She was even more gutted than I was to witness this shambolic run!

My legs felt pretty shot afterwards, so I thought an easier drive (than the A65) would be A590-M6-A66-A1. Which is MILES further, but easier driving, on paper. I had promised Fish & Chips from our outstanding local chippy, which shuts at 8pm. Loads of time…

By this time the afternoon had turned glorious, all the Lakeland fells were basked in sunshine, the Howgills and the Pennines looking equally as enticing. Had I dreamt my bordeline hpothermic race?

After stopping (a bit too long) at Tebay services, where the food smelled amazing, we were on the backfoot for a chippy tea
Then the A66 was at a standstill as it was closed. The whole world and his wife were trying to find an alternative route, which proved to be rather contrived. A forced stop at Scotch Corner services where a high pressure handwash dispenser almost blinded me and then, after paying £1.80 a litre for petrol, it sank in that even with Concorde and a tailwind, the Chippy would be long shut, so we trundled back down the A1 south, where luckily a frozen pizza saved our bacon!

Then I bought a new compass on Monday morning…

Next stop, Jura (hopefully, if my knee doesn’t implode beforehand)

(& just in case you think I am some kind of minority sport madhead, the entries for the Wasdale fell race, in July, sold out in 4 hours, bonkers!)

Raiders round-up.

After impressive wins against Dewsbury Knights and a nail-biting-one-point-win against York Knights, we got trounced against Doncaster.

Missing this guy

Barrow Ladies meanwhile had a one way traffic cricket score win against Salford, then were brought back down to earth with a bump against Wigan.

So in essence, both teams are consistently inconsistent right now!
(We won’t talk about the latest result, a blip, I hope!)

Onwards and upwards!

And finally

Another video!

Time was tight, so a quick out and back (home by noon) was on the cards.

Rishworth Moor, the big TV mast on the side of the M62, near the Yorkshire/Lancashire border is about my nearest stomping ground. Not especially hilly, but always good to get out on.

The forecast gave a good morning, but when I rocked up at 7am, it was down to the ground clag and blowing a hooly. The hooly remained, but the clag eventually lifted so I made another ladfromtad.com vlog.
Still got a lot to learn, (shooting and editing), please bear with me 🙂