Unfortunately race information was fairly light online and I wasn't the only one who felt the need to contact the organiser in the preceding week to request info. How difficult can it be to post something online, or email the participants?
Nevertheless, I decided to print out maps of the route, aswell as studying it in order to familiarise myself with what to expect. I also packed my OMM sack taking the camelbak as I didn't want to rely on race provided water stations. (There was a suggestion on Facebook of one at 5miles but that was all.)
I headed down to Wooler along the A697, parking in the free car park near the Information Centre. Then wandered along the wee High Street, a mixture of closed down shops and antique/bookshops just managing to survive. In the entrance to bus station was a green gazebo where I registered and collected my number. It was a bit disorganised which underlined my experience of the race organisation to that point already.
Back to the car to tog up, lots of other runners starting to arrive. Almost all had some sort of pack or water carrier with them so I was glad to not feel overdressed. But I'm past that stage - I know for a half-marathon distance I need some water and fuel. I think anything above 16km I'd be taking water at least.
At 10am three coaches pulled in to the station and we all climbed aboard. I woman from Chester Le Street sat beside me and we had a good chat as the bus squeezed its way to Kirk Yetholm 20minutes away. I was pleased to finally see the Border Hotel, and the wall corner made 'famous' by the Spine Race that we've been entranced by every January. It marks the end of the Pennine Way which is run in one loooong event, won by Scot Jasmin Paris in 2019 in a time which will probably never be beaten.
The advertised race start time of 10:30am had passed, so the organiser, Glen just did a very quick briefing and set us off. No recognised start line or direction pointed. Like sheep we all set off up the road which was a proper hill start. I'd not done one of these since the Scurry to the Sea in 2018 and it was a good way to sort out the pace. The road reaches a high point at 190m, suddenly revealing the hills ahead, but then drops steeply back down to 130m and the first section of trail.
At this point I was following a young lad who appeared to be wearing cycling shorts and a blue cag. He had a strange bouncy gait and had passed me on the road, but as soon as we were on the trail climb, I was able to get past him. Up we went, the field really spreading out. At about 290m one of the St Cuthbert's Way finger posts directed us off the main route and across the hillside towards the English Border on the summit of the 'ridge' (though I didn't notice it!).
By now the people I was following were out of sight so I was having to scan for route markers and junctions. In the distance I spotted them, some were almost a kilometre distant at this point and we'd only covered 4km! Soon enough I was into one of the forestry plantations I had seen on the YouTube run throughs of the St Cuthbert's Way. Thankfully it had been chopped and was just stumps. No navigational problems except for a few walkers to step round.
I was descending now and realised I was catching the guy in front (Jamie Entwistle). I caught up and passed him just short of the farm of Elsdonburn. I grunted a greeting but got nothing back. Onto the tarmac and then there was a long section of single track road (3km). Although this was punctuated by the 'basic' water station at 6.5km (not 5miles!), I found this tough. But looking at stats, I was keeping up a good pace of ~4.10km/min and trying to chase down the guy in red in the distance.
Thankfully I was watching him when he suddenly took a sharp right towards Hethpool. I would likely have missed that turning as the fingerpost wasn't crystal clear. At the top of the slight rise the red guy had disappeared but a bloke standing beside a car sent me off the road along the next trail section. At this point I was starting to need a pee and when passing through some gorse bushes, thought about taking a break.
The trail was difficult to follow here as it took a few unexpected turns. I really wanted a pee now and thought I could try a 'walking wee' that I'd once managed in the Lomonds. Sadly or perhaps fortunately, when I was ready, I looked over my shoulder and realised I was quickly losing my lead with the faffing. I decided to ignore the urge and get on with the race.
At 9.8km on another gentle climb, I decided to eat a gel and sup some water. Over yet another stile but this time into a field with no obvious direction marked. In the distance I could see runners and a large group of walkers heading uphill. I knew from studying the map, there had to be another steep climb about now so assumed this was the right way. But the track disappeared. I stopped, and Jamie was on my tail. "I don't know which way to go!" I shouted. "I can't remember!" he said. At the same time the girl from the Durham Fell Runners (Dawn Metcalfe) behind him shouted something but at that stage I had decided to crow-fly it and head direct to the next stile.
Fortunately it was the correct decision and soon I was on the trail again climbing up to the 335m high point. Jamie caught me and overtook at a walking pace as we passed a couple of stiles/gates held open by large groups of ramblers. At the summit, and on flatter terrain I was able to claw back any distance that Jamie had gained and I followed on his heels and finally at 15km I got in a position to pass him.
We hadn't seen anyone in front of us for miles and I commented on it as I passed him "Its a lonely old race this - where is everyone??!". He replied after a few metres "Maybe we're the only ones that have gone the right way". Or something. I was on my own now and enjoyed the gradual descent until there were a couple of turns at 18km. I panicked as I approached a forest where the gate only had a yellow arrow marker, no St Cuthbert's Way. I groaned. Not lost again??? Suddenly I saw the SCW marker on the other side of the gate and skipped through.
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| The forest felt darker than this but I was reassured I was on the right route when I saw the camera |
Dawn was now my chaser and I hammered hard down through the forest, smiling at the cameraman. The trail jinked into a small car park as it left the forest and I felt a bit disorentated looking right and left for the next marker. I was glad of the drop in pace here as I was starting to pech. I could hear Dawn behind asking for directions in the car park so I knew she was closing me down.
I kind of accepted defeat at this point and expected her to overtake me as we skirted the edge of the next forest at Kenterdale Hill but I reached the high point with 50m to spare. I upped the pace on the downhill and got through the next gate out of sight. The next section was really tricky without knowing the route as we descended fast through a grassy area of gorse and thistles, paths going in all directions. Without signage, I chose the path most travelled and fortunately it was right. One final gate, with Dawn behind me I left it open for her. Then a rocky LR track descending fast to tarmac and the village of Wooler.
Slapping tarmac down down down, dodging cars and looking out for signs. Listening for Dawn on my heels and any other last minute chargers. Into the high street and a reception committee clapping our arrival back at the bus station.
I enjoyed that!
I grabbed a chocolate bar and tried to get some water from the urn. Then visited the bus station toilets. On returning, I asked the timers my position:
9th
01:53:17
Dawn was 17seconds behind me, Jamie was 01:55:02.
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