Luib Chonnal

The bothy of Luib Chonnal from the west

In 2016, I had spent an enjoyable evening with an old friend at the Invermallie bothy one snowy January weekend. Our original plan had been a visit to Luib Chonnal at the head of Glen Roy, but heavy snow during the daylight hours of the Saturday meant the single track glen road would become impassable. Fortunately there were a few alternative, lower level bothy options available, and Invermallie was a valid replacement.

In late 2018, we hatched a plan for another attempt to visit Luib Chonnal and pencilled in a date in February 2019. Keeping an eye on the weather, we kept other options open, such as Glen Buck or Staoineag (direct access off the A82) in case of a repeat of the 2016 snows. To our fortune (depending on the outlook), climate change or Global Warming had a severe effect on the Scottish winter of 18/19 so that February was recorded as the warmest month in the UK since records began. There was to be no snow risk to our visit.

Of course, there still had to be some precipitation to endure, and when we parked up at the Brae Roy road end, it was chucking it down. The windscreen wipers on at a steady rate. It was 2pm. After a few minutes of discussion, and eradicating the Plan D of heading back down the glen to a local (dry) hostelry to watch France play Scotland in the Six Nations, we donned boots and full waterproofs to set off.

The start of the walk passes the deserted Brae Roy Lodge, nothing happening other than a generator making a racket in an outbuilding. Thence onto a decent land-rover track over the Turret Bridge, and gradually east.

Turret Bridge in the rain

The rain was intermittent, so hoods were up and down a few times, but it wasn't windy and we made good progress. A couple of rivers were obstacles to cross, but we always found a dry option upstream of the track. Old friend took his time, since he was carrying a 10kg bag of coal in his pack but we were in no hurry. At the high point, the weather had cleared and we could see all the way east towards the Corrieyairick and the Monadhliath.

A couple of hundred metres short of the bothy, the LR track turned south towards the river, and a rough footpath headed directly across some very boggy ground. To the south, across the river the White Falls came into view looking very impressive. Beyond them, the ground rose gently up into the clouds of the Meagaidh massif.

The White Falls

We had a great night in the bothy, the upstairs room with the stove making a very comfortable place to spend the evening. Chilli and rice for dinner, followed by a Double Decker, and then a copious amount of Ballatines blended whisky.

The sun sets in the west, down Glenroy between showers. 

The following morning, with blue skies overhead, the rising sun shone brightly through the excellent Velux rooflights to wake us both. My head was surprisingly clear, perhaps still a bit pished but I was up and out to collect water for the stove soon enough. Porridge down the hatch, we packed up and set off on our separate paths. Old friend straight back out the way we'd come, me to horse over the two Corbetts to the north.

"How long do you think it will take you?" he said, presumably wondering how long he'd be waiting at the car.
After a quick glance of the map I made a guess at least 2.5hours, but depending on the ground conditions it could be much more. We bade goodbye and I set off at a trot up the ATV track to the north that ran parallel to the Allt Chonnal. The path crossed the river at a new bridge after 1km, so I continued over tougher ground. Eventually it was time to leave the river and start the cross-country ascent towards the lower Carn Dearg.

Unfortunately the ground here was the peat-hag wobbling morass that I'd heard of in the book. At one point I was faced with a 5metre wide, 100m long water filled gap of slop. Eventually after 60minutes I reached the summit cairn in a strong westerly wind. I grabbed a quick photo and spied my next summit to the north.

View down Glen Roy from Carn Dearg

I could see a figure on that summit, standing near the cairn. I knew it wasn't a trig pillar, and I could see it moving. I expected it was an early day walker who had come in from Brae Roy so assumed they'd be heading my way next. On my descent to the bealach, I kept an eye on the summit figure, but suddenly they disappeared. I never saw them again, and they definitely didn't come south.

During the descent, I was able to see the Teanga Mor which extends west from the summit of the northern Carn Dearg and was described by the Walkhighlands with "There are some extensive areas of peat hags to cross on the long, steady pull that curves round towards the summit of the northern Carn Dearg". It was clear these peat-hags were confined to the highest part of the shoulder. On the southern slopes it appeared featureless and grassy. I made a note to head that way on the descent. 

Dropping 200m into the bealach was unfortunate but necessary to continue to the second summit, and thirty minutes after the first Corbett, I was on the summit of the 2nd Carn Dearg of the day. The wind was keen here so I didn't hang around long, just enough to stuff a flapjack down my throat and a quick scan of the horizon. There were good views out to the west, Knoydart and Kintail prominent, but east was non-descript. 

West from Carn Dearg(2) between Ben Tee and Sron a Choire Garbh to Knoydart - guess the peak?

I set off jogging on the descent, remembering to keep to the left of the Teanga Mor and aimed for the 650m contour to traverse. As hoped it was very grassy and not a sign of any peat. I made fast progress and soon enough was able to start the knee-bashing, relentlessly steep descent back to Glen Turret, 300m below. I didn't want to repeat that in a hurry. I even slipped onto my arse once, and my ankles started to ache. A heavy pack and fast movement made it tougher than normal. 

I crossed a wooden Argocat bridge over the Allt Eachach and joined a rough ATV track that headed south towards Braeroy. This wee glen felt very remote, but there were lots of ruined shielings and remnants of houses dotted about. It would have been a lovely place to live in its time. 

I hit the tarmac and kept jogging, reaching the car with the waiting old friend after 3hours from the bothy. 

Glasgow University Five Mile Road Race

In January I succumbed to a bout of influenza after we had returned from Norway. It knocked me for six and I hadn't felt so ill for a very long time. I was bed-ridden for almost three days and the only thing that kept me going was the dot watching of the annual suffer-fest also known as The Spine race. Jasmin Paris was such an inspiration to a sniffling sufferer.

After seventeen days, I managed to don the running gear again and venture out. I had entered the fourth Foxtrail Race on 19th January but the kindly let me defer until the 6th race on 2nd March. I needed to find another race in February to enter. It had to be reasonably short, and I'd prefer a road as I was worried about winter.

Some googling led me to this race and I happily plugged my details into Entry Central. At £9 what could be better? I decided to kill two birds with one stone on my visit to Glasgow by dropping in to the recently saved Fopp store on Byres Road after the race.

I arrived in the car park at the Garscube Sports complex at 10am, picked up my race number and returned to the car to get changed and watch my fellow runners arriving. Unsurprisingly, there were lots of club vests and mostly younger competitors. Eventually I trotted down to the start line on the other side of the Kelvin. The weather was good - dry, fairly calm, overcast about 10degrees.

The start was marked by a line of flour across the road, and with a couple of minutes to go, a man started to shout some instructions. I couldn't hear a thing, but just fitted into the middle of the pack, ready to follow the crowd. Off we trotted, but it felt very busy. Almost like the Cramond Parkrun start and I found it difficult to get into a decent pace.

Not long after the start there was a steepish climb out of the park onto the main road which really came as a surprise and I was puffing a bit. There followed some fast downhill and then a gradual climb along the southern perimeter of the park. There were a lot of fast runners in this race. I tried to settle into a group but we were constantly changing positions.

The route was a double loop of the park perimeter so the 2nd one felt easier as I knew what to expect after each turn. The last few hundred metres were downhill off the main road past the main buildings to the finish line. I was in a bunched finish, clearly several minute after the leaders.

It was a well supported race, and seemed well organised. And very cheap! My only criticism would be the actual route itself - not very picturesque.

00:34:20 87/195

Polar Night Half Marathon

The leaders heading out on the Storgata

After Copenhagen in May, which had been a great wee trip to celebrate my birthday, we decided we had to do something special for Sally's 50th in January. Sally has always been fascinated by the Northern Lights so I thought a trip to Tromsø in peak Aurora season might be a good opportunity. Conveniently, her birthday weekend just so happened to coincide with the running of the Polar Night Half Marathon around the city! There was no deliberation required - we were booked up!

Even better was the fact that my good friend Matt lived in the city, and could provide on-sight information and advice. I found a good Air BnB apartment, very close to the centre. If we were taking the kids, we couldn't live in a hotel room for 4days so had to have some personal space. Later in the year, we discovered that Matt's working rota meant he was able to enter the race too.

In November, in a piece on Radio Four's PM programme, we learned that the sun had set in Tromsø for the last time in 2018 and the city would be in darkness until January. How very depressing we thought.

We spent Hogmanay in Fife, staying in a huge detached villa on the beach at Elie. Sally and I took the opportunity for some last minute training and ran from Lower Largo to Pittenweem (18km) along the FCP on the 31st. On New Year's Day, we ran in the Kirkcaldy Parkrun at 9am, and then I made it a double by running at Loch Leven in the 11am race. The weather was perfect.

We had monitored the weather forecast in Tromsø for the week in advance, so were well prepared for the 'warmer' thaw that arrived as our plane left Oslo. Our landing in Tromsø was delayed for 15minutes while they cleared the rotting ice from the runway. Matt kindly met us at the airport and drove us along the rutted roads to our cosy apartment. The conditions looked awful.

On the Friday, we went on an unforgettable husky dog trip on the nearby island of Kvaløya and in the evening were entertained at Matt & Rigmor's house in the south of the city. During the darkness of the afternoon, I went for a recce run around the streets, following a Matt recommendation. I realised I could probably get away without wearing spikes on my shoes, even though some of the ground was pretty icy.

The three of us ready to go, waiting in the lobby of the cinema

Saturday and race day arrived. We collected numbers and pins and then waited at the apartment for 2pm. It was an awkward time for a race, but all part of the experience. At least it wasn't midnight - like the summer race version. Underfoot conditions had worsened since Friday and I was now seriously considering spikes. But I knew the start of the race was on wet tarmac so wanted to keep them off as long as possible. Then I kind of knew I wouldn't be wearing them, as I wouldn't want to stop and lose time whilst putting them on.

At the start line

In the darkness, we gathered in the starting throng, standing behind the 1hr50-2hr marker. The organiser welcomed us all and repeated his hope that we were all wearing spikes. Oops I thought.

Off we went, I dotted between Sally & Matt trying to find their rhythm and then after 3km, with a verbal check that she was ok, she told me to go at my own pace. I did. We left the city and followed the coastal road north towards the airport. The pavement was slick, so we all ran on the wet road tarmac which made the pace much easier. I was able to run at my own speed and was able to consistently overtake all the way until we reached the airport. Leaving the road, the ground became really slippy and I was struggling to keep my position.

Approaching the airport

It was near this point that the leader passed us on his return leg, being heralded by a fast bike with a horn blaring to get us out of the way. I saw and waved at Sally on one of the out-and-back legs before returning into the wind. I managed to hold my position as we skited through underpasses and over roundabouts, before getting back onto the dark tarmac when I was able to up the pace and pick off more runners.

I felt great and was really enjoying myself, oblivious to the turmoils of Matt going on behind. As we arrived back at the city limits and the ice ruts returned, so my pace slowed and I struggled to keep up with a German fella I had been chasing for two or three kms. Finally we hit the Storgata again and I cranked it up, throwing a wee Mobot to the squatting Marathon Photos team.

Once through the finish, I found my way round to the baggage collection, quickly got changed and then returned to the finish to wait for Sally & Matt. At 16:56, Sally came storming in, looking very fresh. We greeeted, posed for selfies with our medals and then settled to wait for Matt. At 17:10 we gave up waiting and headed into the cinema lobby. At the same time, I got a text from him saying he was in the toilet, hadn't finished. Poor Matt!

1hr 40m 59s   103/938

Kirk Craigs Christmas Cracker

Ian from work had mentioned this race as being good fun. I had found an excellent wee video from the 2016 race which gave me a good idea of what to expect. Keeping an eye on the weather all week, I could see it might be a bit soft underfoot with a lot of rain on the Thursday and Friday. But race day itself was forecast to be dry.

As I reached Hamilton Street in Tillicoultry, I spotted the usual suspects walking the streets, with others still gearing up in their parked cars. Ian had warned me that the race organisers were fastidious about the kit check, so I made sure to stuff the bag with everything required. Off I went to the Centenary Hall and joined the queue to register. I paid my £5 (fantastic price), showed my bag contents, got my number and scribbled my name & details on a large sheet of paper.

Back to the car, I togged up and then jogged slowly through the village to the Mill Road and up the steps to the start line. There was a growing group of other runners gathering in the morning sunshine, some chatting, some stretching the legs. I just enjoyed the pre-race atmosphere, listening out for wee nuggets of advice and information from the race veterans. Ian turned up and we greeted each other, before queuing for the count through of runners (similar to Meall nan Tarmachan, to ensure no-one disappeared on the hill).

Finally we were off and running, a little later than the 11am schedule. The first km or so were tough going along a very rutted and muddy field, hugging a wall and fenceline. There were very few opportunities to overtake on the slippy slop, so I just stuck behind the runner in front. Suddenly we reached a marshal who turned us 90deg up the hill and everyone slowed to a walk. This separated the men from the boys (literally) and some people really slowed, whilst others disappeared into the distance.

I was roasting now, in my two layers, so took the walking opportunity to strip off to one layer and put it in my pack. During the ascent, I was able to gain approx 10places, and certainly didn't lose any. As soon as the terrain fell back to grassy plateau we were running again and I picked off three or four more places. We trotted across the hill to another marshal and joined a more established track to descend steeply towards 'The Boulder' which would mark the turning point.

The track stretched off into the distance, and I could see runners all along it, some even returning already. I could tell I was well down the field. All too soon, the leader, Josh Boyle came past. A young lad, looking fresh as a daisy, smiling as I wished him well. A big gap to the next place, and then a tide. Angela Mudge zoomed on through, hands on knees looking menacing.

Turn at the boulder, and back up the track now, walking and jogging when possible. I managed to pass some more of the places that had bettered me on the descent, and kept the pace up all the way to the top of the hill. I wasn't looking forward to the final steep descent, but fortunately was a long way ahead my nearest chasers, so only lost two places on this stage. The two that passed me were professional descenders - disengage brains.

I was dismayed to meet the winner re-ascending the hill at this point. He had obviously finished ages ago and was on his warm down, retracing his steps to make us all feel slow! (36mins 50 secs) At the hill bottom, we turned right and headed back through the slop. My thighs were burning and I struggled to reach a decent pace. I tagged onto the heels of a female (Sarah Sheridan) who had passed me, and just managed to overtake on the final few metres.

00:53:17  51/104



https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hXxRziyfpeY

Foxtrail Series Race#3 (Balgone Estate)

The third race of the 2018 Winter series, but only my second as I couldn't fit the 2nd into my incredibly busy social calendar - not. Having raced in the first one last month, I knew what type of organisation to expect. The second race had been a night run at Foxlake, on an evening that didn't suit so I'd not bothered entering that.

In the reminder email sent a few days before this race, it warned of a muddy quagmire and looking at the route map, I could see it went through a lot of farmland. But as the weekend approached, so did freezing temperatures and the mud warnings turned to rut warnings.

The forecast was correct with a light south easterly breeze chilling the bones at around 3C in the farmyard at Balgone where we had to register. The parking area in a field was well marshalled, but I do wonder what they'd have done if it was muddy. After registering, I returned to the car to tog up, folding and pinning my number to my leg. I didn't want to wear it on my top, since I expected to be unzipping at some stage which wouldn't work behind a pinned number.

At 9am I jogged back to farmyard start area, only to be told in no uncertain words to unfold my number and pin it to my top, otherwise risking disqualification. The guy's attitude wasn't great, but neither was mine. I couldn't really understand his reasoning - "A lot of sponsors have paid to have their names on these numbers so they need to be visible". To who?? I wondered. We were in the middle of nowhere, it wasn't as if there'd be crowds of spectators to be advertised to, and any competitors would already be well aware of the sponsors names through other sources. Even through the event photography - who is going to be looking at that?? I briefly protested, but reluctantly repinned my number as requested.

I set my watch to seek satellites so had to trot about in the farmyard to keep warm, whilst the rest of the smart-phone field sheltered inside the barn. Then we were off. I had positioned myself about 20 back from the front, and could see Roger Peppiette in his luminous yellow top nearer the front.

We horsed along a farm track for a km or so establishing our positions in the pack before changing terrain onto a lochside path. Keeping my eyes on Roger, I slowly gained places on him until I was about three behind. He was going well.

Along the lochside track, the chap to my right wanted to chat

Round the loch, and then along the foot of the Balgone Craigs, a series of small cliffs hidden in the trees. I glanced a few times up at them, all a bit lichenous and north facing for any rock climbing. Then we had a shock of some climbing into woods weaving along a field edge and I was overtaken by a couple of others.

Out of the woods, and across open farmland with hard frozen grass. I upped the pace and got into a good rhythm on this flattish section, but noticed Roger was now in the distance. The 2nd placed female and I played cat and mouse here passing each other at least three times on various sections, but the final big climb to the top of the Balgone Craigs I lost her, and even more on the steep descent.

After the steep descent from Balgone Craigs, I was on my own. Photo by Sandy Wallace

There was a really nasty section of cross-slope running on potholed muddy grass which was much harder than it should have been. Then a good track section back to the finish at the farmyard.

Hardly any other runners were through at this point so I quickly grabbed a drink of freezing Active Root ginger water, got the camera from the car to take some finishers pics and then left.

00:46:35 15/191

Glentress Early Winter Trail Half-Marathon

Saturday 17th November and the running calendar was looking a bit sparse. Either Largo Law Hill race or a return to Glentress. Unfortunately Largo Law entries were closed; I got the impression this was one of those popular iconic races that would be full within hours of entry opening. So back to Glentress it was.

I had previously run the Glentress Half in February 2017 when melting snow had turned the course into a quagmire making it a memorable day. Looking at the route for November 2018, I could see it was different from that race, spending more time to the east of the forest, on more open trails.

The February Half route

The November 2018 route, more time spent in the east

I paid my £25 and headed off down the A703/A72 early on the 17th of November. It was cool, but not too cool. Dry with a light breeze. Unlike 2017, the overflow car park in the farmer's field was open and I parked up in the grid. After trotting up to the Peel to register and get my number, I headed back to the car to change, and eat my flapjack. 

Rather than queue for a portaloo, I found an old oak to pee behind on the edge of the field before heading up to the start. I wore my thermal with my 2017 T-shirt on top, "Here's a veteran!!" 

Up at the start the pre-race briefing was already in progress, but all I could hear was a muffled microphone voice. Everyone had shuffled through the start hoop towards the microphone, but since I was late getting there, when the briefing was over and everyone turned 180, I discovered I was standing near the start. No complaints from me!

Off we went, up the familiar rising vehicle track, everyone settling into a comfortable pace. I passed Jez, Nigel's cousin after a kilometre or so greeting him with "Alright Jez?", he replied "Hi....have a good one!" as I ploughed on. "And you! You'll overtake me I'm sure!" I said. 

On the climb, stripped off the T-shirt not long before

                          

I found myself recognising a lot of the route from 2017, but in reverse and spent time wondering why they had changed it. At 600m we entered the cloud but it was short lived as it was the summit of the climbs. I then spent a good kilometre or so all on my own, or it felt like that, running along the boundary of the forest. It was tricky terrain, very rocky an wet so my pace was reduced. Then a steep, zig-zagging descent to an open vehicle track that was much more level heading back toward the Buzzard's Nest. I took the opportunity for a gel here, and managed to claw back some of the runners that had passed me on the descent. It was clear that was my weakness, descending. 

On the flat, wider trail 4km to go

At the Buzzard's Nest car park, one of the runners I had passed came storming through as if he had a bee in his bonnet. I tried hard to keep up with him, but he was gone through the trees and left me alone again for the familiar descent to the finish. 

I knew what to expect here, having run this section twice before (2016 and 17) and settled into the tree weaving. On the final steepening, I heard shouts and panting behind, two racers came crashing past. Soon enough I was back at the Peel and 'sprinted' up the final rise to the finish hoop. 

Happy to beat Kevin Gemson for the first time, and Jez Edwards for the second time. 

51/441 1hr 51m 03s

Foxtrail Race Series 2018 #1

When I ran the Edinburgh to North Berwick race in May 2017, Roger P had told me about the Winter running series that took place near Dunbar. He had raved about it being a great way to get through the winter. This year, I looked into it and found a usable website for entering. For all six races, it would cost £100 but looking at the dates I knew I couldn't commit to them all. So I selected three that were suitable and entered them individually.

In the run up to the race, the Foxtrail website stubbornly refused to update the 'Route - TBC' page to the extent that I contacted the admins on the Wednesday to ask them for more route detail. It was duly emailed out to participants that day. Examining the map, it looked like a flat route, mixing field boundaries with established tracks. There was one section of a loop around a park in Dunbar, which I wondered about - how would they handle cross-traffic runners here?

On the Saturday the forecast was mild but very windy with the remnants of Hurricane Oscar passing west of the British Isles blowing strong Swesterlies in. Shorts and T-shirt was selected, no more. I drove to Foxlake, and parked up on the grass. After registering to collect my number, I bumped into Nigel M who was on his own way to register. He was carrying a bottle of champagne.

After he'd registered, we sat in my car to chat and get ready. It turned out, he was good friends with the owner of Foxlake, and as it was his birthday today, he thought he'd bring a gift. A 9am, we headed towards the start line for a wee warm up organised by one of the Foxlake staff. All good fun.

Nigel introduced me to his cousin Jez who was also running. We gathered at the start line under an inflatable banner and at 09:15 we were off. Immediately I realised it was going to be a tough old race in the wind as we battled around the shore of the lake in the long grass. I got into my stride and powered past some slower runners and quickly was in more space. The route twisted and turned through some woodland for the first km, quite technical. Ahead I spotted Roger P and noticed I was gaining on him. After 2km I was level with him, and then passed him with ease around 3km. This was looking good.

The course was now more open, following tracks and field boundaries heading east towards Dunbar. The wind was off our starboard quarter which made things slightly easier until we headed due south across a field. The wind was battering to the extent I might've been faster walking. Over a bridge and then left into a park.

After the bridge, Sandy Wallace had positioned himself for action shots

I saw Nigel's cousin ahead and to my surprise was slowly gaining on him too. I passed him and said hello. After a wee circuit of the park, it was back to the bridge and for the next few hundred metres, the worst part of the course. It was basically running into the oncoming back runners, and all the Cani-cross competitors. When this was through a ploughed field boundary, in a gale, it was tough going to not run into someone or a dog. I'm sure the route planner could have adjusted that. 

Anyway, it was out to the estuary now and some coastal running after a wee jaunt through a plantation. It was around now I started to fade, probably 9km in, and when a long-legged Cani-cross pair overtook me, it knocked me back. Looking over my shoulder I could see Nigel gaining, perhaps 100m back. 

The route crossed another bridge, where the owner of Foxlake (can't remember his name), was marshalling. I wished him Happy Birthday to his delight and carried on, then hearing more laughter seconds later when Nigel passed through. The track became very narrow at this point, only a foot wide and typically I managed to roll my chocolate ankle. 

I was slowing up badly now, and 500metres out from the finish, I heard Nigel shout "You're a tough bastard to catch!!" He caught me on the final corner, with 200m to go and we ran in together. Not holding hands!

Looking at watches, we were both under one hour which we were pleased with. I was really impressed by Nigel's race management and pace. The race itself was well organised. The route was varied but well marked. The only downside being the section  mentioned above. 

58m58s 22/215