Cross Borders Drove Road

Hawick to West Linton

29th February to 1st March 2020


Train from Waverley to Gala, bus to Hawick.
Run to Peebles. Hotel.

Run to West Linton.

2020 Races

Date	Race	Dist(km)	Surface	Time	Position	Percent*	Price	Goodies
05/01/20	Run off the Christmas Pudding	13.01	Road/Trail	00:59:34	6/123	4.8	£15	Water. Toilet Roll. Moisturiser.

Run Off The Christmas Pudding Trail Race

Sally called off from this race due to a calf strain so I headed to Melrose alone on a dry Sunday morning to park in the public car park behind the Co-Op opposite the Greenyards. I trotted across to the clubhouse to pick up my number, gazing at the walls adorned with Melrose RFC memorabilia.

At 10 I headed back across for the race briefing. Looking around the other runners, there was an overwhelming female majority and only a few younger males. Interesting field.

After the briefing we all headed for a wee walk up to the old Melrose Station platform next to the A6091 road that bypasses the town. I warmed up with a sprint along the platform gravel before lining up near the start. Off we went at a hurtle along a flat path for a kilometre or so and I quickly foud myself in around 4th position as we hit a road. Frustratingly the marshalls stopped us all to allow a bus to pass - the first three runners were already away which meant we lost ~100m between them.

The next 2km was brutally uphill and the first female in the race overtook me to gradually stretch ahead. I kept my position from the snorter behind me.

After the long climb I was happy to still be in 5th position

Not long before we left the tarmac 

Marshalls directed me off the road onto a grassy track which soon degenerated into a muddy rutted trail. My pace slowed as I worried about turning my ankle and I could hear the snorter getting closer. The track dried out and I cranked up the pace as I approached the first gate of the race - swinging through and slamming it behind me!

Onto the 'red road' - a vehicle track of reddish Eildon earth which ran along the south side of the peaks and eventually downhill to join tarmac for a while. I could just about see the first female in the distance ahead perhaps 200m away as she passed the only water station on the route, manned by some cub scouts. 

I declined their kind cups and headed left for the muddy climb up into the woodland below Eildon Hill North. This climb was really tough and I struggled to keep running. After another marshall with a camera, the route turned sharply right for a long fast descent to the old road near Eildon Mains. I could hear some approaching footsteps behind and reluctantly allowed them to catch me. 

A bloke, not the snorter came alongside and we had a brief chat. 

I slip into 6th place

More mud and gates and then some views of the Abbey through the trees told me the finish line was close. It arrived quicker than expected and I huffed my way across. 

Quite good fun and a challenging route. I'd probably do it again.

00:59:31  6 / 123

Foxtrail Winter Race Series #3

With Sally. Very wet underfoot but dry overhead (just). Also still suffering from hangover from the 11th.

Enjoyed the long beach section.



01:13:58  31/218

Foxtrail Winter Race Series #1

Back for more of this....it was going to be my third running of this route, having done it twice in the 18/19 series. It had been very wet on the Friday, but Saturday was forecast to be showery. Mud had to be expected.

Avoiding the RWC2019 Final that kicked off at 09:00 between England and South Africa, I drove east to Dunbar and was directed along a forest track to a grassy field where some deep wheel ruts were already forming as cars parked up. I hoped there wouldn't be any stuck vehicles after the race. I trotted back along the track to the Foxlake centre to collect my number before returning to the car to tog up. I did have my raingear, but what precipitation there was, was periodic and light. I decided to run in shorts & t-shirt.

Back to the centre and a quick pee, feeling sorry for the massive queue of females. At the event briefing the audio was shocking and I don't think anyone heard much. I just about gleaned there was a slight change in the route where it recrosses the river at Dunbar but there would be no change to distance.

As expected, I saw the usual suspects - Nigel's cousin Jez, Ian Burdett whom I had spoken to at Athelstaneford in May and of course Roger Peppiette. We had a brief chat about his recent trip to California before being ushered to the start line.

My race strategy was to match Roger. Off we went along the deep wet grass around the lake into the woods, at quite a canter. I was blowing hard but found myself losing contact with Roger through the tricky wee copse and down to the track. Once back on the flat, I upped the pace and made sure he was two places ahead.

Passing East Links, there was a Llama at the fence feeling threatened by us and it kept lunging at the wire. A bit mad. Over the bridge and onto the tarmac, I overtook the guy in front and slowly gained on Roger until I was alongside him as we turned right onto the grass to go round the caravan park. I'm not sure if this was his trigger to put the foot down, or I had shot my load, but the gap between us immediately started to open out, and before long the 2nd placed female had nipped past me into the gap.

On the other side of the bridge, it was very wet and muddy and I was soon being overtaken by 2 or 3 blokes. There was now at least 4 between me and Roger, and he seemed to be so steady. We were now approaching the sand dunes which I despise and my pace slowed allowing more people through.

Anyway, the rest of the race continued in that vein, me being overtaken every km as if I was on a travelator going the wrong direction. For the last km, I managed to hold it together and stopped the watch on 57minutes. Suprisingly that was the fastest I had run that route, even in the slop. Roger was at least 2mins ahead of me.

00:57:12 23/242

Minigaig Pass (Kingussie to Blair Atholl)

Ruthven Ponies

 The Minigaig Pass has fascinated me for a long time. I probably first heard of it when reading Ralph Storer's 1994 book "Exploring Scottish Hill Tracks" that I've owned for years. I ventured onto its southern end when cycling from Calvine to Bruar Lodge to climb Beinn Dearg and ran the roughest northern section when doing a round of the Corbetts west of Glen Feshie.

After running the St Cuthbert's Way over two days in August, I realised long day distances were possible and looked for something to do. Measuring the approximate route with mapmyrun, it came in under 50km. Both ends were connected by the A9 and/or the railway. Although none of the route is waymarked, it was mostly on established tracks so all I'd need was a map and compass.

On doing some online research into the route, I found an excellent account  on blogspot from another likeminded runner who travelled the route in 2010. Even better, they had run it N-S which was the same as my plan. Since I would be arriving from the Central Belt, it made sense to leave the car at Blair Atholl and run back to it. I checked the bus and train timetables (and prices) to settle on the 08:55 Scotrail service from Blair Atholl on Saturday 12th October. On Thursday I suddenly remembered I would be crossing gaming estates and there might be stalking happening. I checked the Heading for the Scottish Hills site and called the Bruar Estates answerphone. I also sent an email to their office. Julia replied to confirm there would be stalking happening, but as long as I stayed on the right-of-way, then it would be fine.

I left home too late. Turning on the engine and programming Blair Atholl into the Sat Nav, it told me my ETA was 09:10. Fifteen minutes too late to catch the train. Some inventive driving resulted in me parking in Blair Atholl at 08:54. I sprinted to the station only to discover the train was delayed until 09:00. Phew.

On the train I fuelled up with some more Scott's Porage Oats before disembarking at Kingussie 40minutes later. I had originally planned to stop at Perth M&S to grab a sarnie for lunch, but that didn't happen and I decided the Kingussie Co-Op would have to do. Standing at the war-memorial waiting for the train to roll on north, the Co-Op (and even the thought of a sarnie) was dismissed and I just turned south and went on my way.

Crossing the Spey, some canoeists ready to set off

A mile of tarmac crossing the Spey and then under the A9 I arrived at Ruthven Barracks for a short piece to camera and check of the map. I wanted to follow the true military road route rather than taking the easier tarmac all the way to Tromie Bridge so climbed a gate and set off up a grassy vehicle track into a cow field.

The cows were spooked and ran up the path ahead for a while, stinking of shit. I climbed a stile and crossed a wee ford before following the track up to a high point west of the mast on Beinn Bhuidhe. The track narrowed to a faint trail in the heather and I was glad to reach a substantial cairn that confirmed I was on the right course.

Descending towards Glen Tromie now, I stopped for a pee before climbing a stile over a deer fence into the pinewoods and bracken above Glentromie Lodge. A month ago, this would have been inpenetrable jungle so I was glad for some browning dieback. Of course the vegetation was soaking and soon both my legs and feet were sodden.

The path was very boggy now as it ran parallel to a deer fence heading north instead of south. I could see the LR track not far beyond and even saw a couple of vehicles passing along it. I took the decision to climb the wobbly wires and soon was running at speed again joining the main track south up the glen.

I made good time and the miles beeped past on the watch as the landscape opened out. At the junction of the Gaick and Tromie glens I stopped to look at the map when suddenly a sheepdog appeared. It must have run out from the cottage in the distance and followed me up the track.

At the weir I left the comfort of the LR track and after a gel, set out on the next wild section of the route. I had previously been running nearby in 2014 so knew that the Minigaig route was 'indistinct' to say the least. I wasn't expecting much so just made sure to follow the easiest line until I reached the Allt na Culice. Bizarrely out of the corner of my eye, I spotted two mountain bikers on the left descending through deep heather from the forest. They were pushing/carrying bikes.

I filled up my water bottle and carried on, noting the bikers were heading north. The path was totally crap here and I was just stumbling through deep wet grass and heather, heading for a faint suggestion of a path up on the side of Leathaid an Taobhainn that was glinting in the sun.

The wind was getting up as I gained height, I was now at 600m. Lots of walking. Finally the gradient fell back and I spotted a quartz topped cairn the left of the path. This was obviously the summit at 820m so I stopped to put on another layer, my gloves and buff whilst eating some food.

As I continued south over flatter ground, the sky darkened and then it started raining. I stopped to don the cag making sure to keep the pace up to avoid getting cold. I knew this high section would be shortlived so wanted to make sure I was across it before the weather turned even worse. As expected, there were tiny white quartz cairns placed every 100m or so to help guide me. This place felt very remote and wild. In winter it must be respected.

The Caochan Lub - perfect high level camp spot?

Thankfully it didn't last long and I was able to take my hood down. Of course, my luck had to run out here and I managed to turn my right ankle somewhere here, falling in a heap on the short cropped heather beside the path. Typical. I couldn't get injured here, I was probably the furthest from any civilisation and any rescue would be tough. I stood up and tried it out - still functioning if painful. I carried on, gingerly.

The descent to Glen Bruar came soon and I spotted my salvation in the form of a LR track near a bridge at the head of the glen below me. Once there, I stopped for a protracted break to refuel and return my extra layers to the bag. 500m to the south of the bridge was the dark crag of Creag na h-Iolair Mhor (Cliff of the Big Eagle?)...while filming on the GoPro, I noticed the unmistakable silhouette of an eagle patrolling the air above me.

Although the LR track made for faster running progress, tiredness and a sore ankle slowed me down. I struggled to not stop every kilometre. I passed Bruar Lodge and some parked vehicles that looked like visting guns. Unfortunately the route left the LR track here to follow a damp path over the side of Druim Dubh.

Glen Bruar from the Druim Dubh

Not far from the sanctuary of the bothy ahead and probably distracted by the thought of another break, I managed to roll my ankle a second time. This time it was agony. Oh balls. After some rubbing and swearing, I stood up again and placed weight on it. If I kept it in a neutral position it was usable, but any lateral movement was painful. I limped the last 200m to the bothy and LR track.

There was a dog owner (two dogs) sitting at the picnic bench outside the wee bothy eating his lunch in the showery sun. I stopped to chat and eat my last food. I also signed the damp bothy visitors' book before setting off again for the final 10km to Blair.

Nothing remarkable to note until I reached the woods above Old Blair where the map told me there was a direct route back to my car but I was worried it would pass through the private grounds of Blair Castle. I stopped a dog walker to ask the very question and she gave me a wooly answer in pigeon English tinged with Polish. Fortunately the directions were correct, and soon enough I was slapping the tarmac past the castle, onto the main driveway and up to my car.

45.3km 5h30m

Penicuik House Trail Race

Sparse Runner had first introduced me to the grounds of Penicuik House in 2018 when I was looking for some Mountain Marathon advice as we prepared for the LAMM in Harris. As a member of the Penicuik Harriers running club, he was well aware of plans by the club to organise a 10km trail race in the grounds of the estate and he had previously shared the route online.

Unfortunately by the time he told me the inaugural 2018 race entries were open, it was full. I made a mental note to get in early for the 2019 event.

Over the next year, I made sure to run the course myself and even persuaded Sally along for one of them. Saturday 5th October was dry, but as per usual it had been chucking it down on the Friday and I knew we were in for a mudfest. On the way to Penicuik, I listened to England hump Argentina in the final pool games of the RWC2019 on FiveLive. A red card was awared to an Argentinian player as I parked up to register at Alderbank.

On the start line, nobody wanted to stand at the front, and the race marshall shouted at us. I stood forward. Eventually some stick insects also came forward and we eyed each other up. The race marshall reminded us of the course record - 39mins. I wouldn't be threatening that.

The whistle blew and off we went. Three guys went hurtling off at breakneck pace and were soon out of sight round the twists and turns of the ascending forest track. As expected, the mud was formidable and we sploshed along the top track trying hard not to slip and slide.

Along the top path

I judged the descent to the river well and kept my place and even managed to pass a baldy feller in a luminous yellow top on the way towards the main house.

Onto the tarmac I was going well, but a Westie passed me on the next ascent towards the walled garden. I kept up my pace through the woods turning sharp right back onto the tarmac briefly before passing the tower/doocot and over many slippy tree roots.

The descent to the river was very muddy indeed and a marshall warned us. I took it easy and lost two places to the first female and the guy in yellow. On the flat back to the ROman bridge, I regained those places and crossed the bridge to wave at the bagpiper with them on my heels. We stayed in that formation for the killer climb back to the top path and with 800m to go I was still ahead.

Just exiting the killer climb, first female on my heels

But...

I felt a loosening in one of my shoes and tried to ignore it. It got worse. I looked down and saw a flapping lace. Arrgghhhhhh. I knew the descent to the finish was loose and windy, not a place to be racing with an untied shoe. I could hear the breathing of my chasers behind me. I stepped to the side and stopped as they came flying past. Feck. Quick tying and off I went, I absolutely belted along to catch up the 50m they'd made. I got on their heels, but then the descent began and they stretched away (I'm no good at descending).

00:45:02 7/78  (would have been 5th save for my lace!!!)