I’m lying face down in the snow …. again.

This time it is not deep snow, I am not trapped by my pulk and it is not -30 degrees.

It is however my pulk that is the cause of my current predicament. And it’s not the first time I’ve been in this situation in the race, I’ve fallen down maybe 100 times. Its death by a thousand pulk hits.

Pre-race excitement

I’m back in Sweden to once again take on the Arctic Spine, 293 miles on the Kungsleden trail, this time over 9.5 days.

I’m lying face down on the ground under 3 feet of snow, it’s -30 degrees Celsius and I’m unable to move.

Moments before I had been descending from the Tjäktja Pass on cross country ski’s pulling a pulk behind me. I was fully in control and everything was going well .. until it wasn’t. Until I built up to a speed I wasn’t able to control, lost control and fell face forward into the deep snow.

For a while now I’ve been drawn to adventures in the polar climes, having followed races such as the Yukon Arctic Ultra and Iditarod and read a number of books and accounts.

When I heard the Spine team were going to be launching a race based in Arctic Sweden I was immediately interested but also very apprehensive. I have spent many a day and night in some pretty horrendous conditions in the UK but nothing like surviving in temperatures as low as -40 degrees C, strong winds and limited daylight hours.

I’m lying face down in the snow …. again.

This time it is not deep snow, I am not trapped by my pulk and it is not -30 degrees.

It is however my pulk that is the cause of my current predicament. And it’s not the first time I’ve been in this situation in the race, I’ve fallen down maybe 100 times. Its death by a thousand pulk hits.

Pre-race excitement

I’m back in Sweden to once again take on the Arctic Spine, 293 miles on the Kungsleden trail, this time over 9.5 days.

I’m lying face down on the ground under 3 feet of snow, it’s -30 degrees Celsius and I’m unable to move.

Moments before I had been descending from the Tjäktja Pass on cross country ski’s pulling a pulk behind me. I was fully in control and everything was going well .. until it wasn’t. Until I built up to a speed I wasn’t able to control, lost control and fell face forward into the deep snow.

The late cancellation of the Arctic Spine race in which I was due to participate provided an opportunity to put myself on the start line of the UK edition once again. Training had gone well and I was looking forward to toe-ing the line without the chest infection and broken ribs which had accompanied me during last year’s race.

My brother Alan very kindly drove me down to Edale for the statuary pre-race registration which consisted of preparing the runners for race conditions by making them queue outside the registration venue for over an hour in freezing conditions.

So what it all this Spine malarky all about then?

I’ve known about the Spine Race for a very long time now and have spent countless years watching the steady progress of dots moving northwards over the course of a week in January.

It’s always been a race that has terrified me.

The route follows the 268 miles of the Pennine Way over generally high exposed ground from Edale in the Peak District to Kirk Yetholm in the Scottish borders with few opportunities for shelter.

Pre-race

I’d considered entering the inaugural running of this event last year but it sold out before I’d made the decision. For those unfamiliar with the event the following description is taken from the website :

“The Montane Cheviot Goat Winter Ultra will test even the most experienced ultra runner. 55 miles of the harshest winter trails, 9500 ft of lung-bursting ascent including the highest summit, The Cheviot, standing at 2,674 ft. Throw into the mix the unpredictable Northumberland weather that includes everything from deep snow, ice, gale force winds and torrential rain and you’ll be tested physically and mentally.”

For a while now I’ve been drawn to adventures in the polar climes, having followed races such as the Yukon Arctic Ultra and Iditarod and read a number of books and accounts.

When I heard the Spine team were going to be launching a race based in Arctic Sweden I was immediately interested but also very apprehensive. I have spent many a day and night in some pretty horrendous conditions in the UK but nothing like surviving in temperatures as low as -40 degrees C, strong winds and limited daylight hours.

I’m on the top of Snowdon - its dark, raining and very cold. I’m soaked to the skin and the wind feels like its blowing right through me. I’ve lost the path and my headtorch is failing. I feel like I’m on the brink of hypothermia.

This is how my first attempt at a Paddy Buckley Round ended 6 years ago (you can read about it here )).

I’d always intended to return for another go (I’d fast packed the round over 3 days with Katherine Davis a few years back which was a great experience), but for one reason or another I never have. Until now.

“If you could take one source of pain away what would it be? And you can’t just say your feet it needs to be a specific part of a foot”

Danny thinks for a while before responding.

“The inside of my right foot where I have a bunion and its pressing against my shoe – what about you?”

There’s lots to choose from. First thing in the day it would have been the outside of my left foot (I thought I might have broken it at one point) but this has now been superseded by pain on the balls of my feet mainly caused by swelling. If I was forced to choose it would be the right.

The late cancellation of the Arctic Spine race in which I was due to participate provided an opportunity to put myself on the start line of the UK edition once again. Training had gone well and I was looking forward to toe-ing the line without the chest infection and broken ribs which had accompanied me during last year’s race.

My brother Alan very kindly drove me down to Edale for the statuary pre-race registration which consisted of preparing the runners for race conditions by making them queue outside the registration venue for over an hour in freezing conditions.

The late cancellation of the Arctic Spine race in which I was due to participate provided an opportunity to put myself on the start line of the UK edition once again. Training had gone well and I was looking forward to toe-ing the line without the chest infection and broken ribs which had accompanied me during last year’s race.

My brother Alan very kindly drove me down to Edale for the statuary pre-race registration which consisted of preparing the runners for race conditions by making them queue outside the registration venue for over an hour in freezing conditions.

So what it all this Spine malarky all about then?

I’ve known about the Spine Race for a very long time now and have spent countless years watching the steady progress of dots moving northwards over the course of a week in January.

It’s always been a race that has terrified me.

The route follows the 268 miles of the Pennine Way over generally high exposed ground from Edale in the Peak District to Kirk Yetholm in the Scottish borders with few opportunities for shelter.

So what it all this Spine malarky all about then?

I’ve known about the Spine Race for a very long time now and have spent countless years watching the steady progress of dots moving northwards over the course of a week in January.

It’s always been a race that has terrified me.

The route follows the 268 miles of the Pennine Way over generally high exposed ground from Edale in the Peak District to Kirk Yetholm in the Scottish borders with few opportunities for shelter.

So I didn’t complete the Dragon’s Back Race this year. My main concern going into the race was my knee as I’ve been suffering from tendonitis which has curtailed my training, I barely ran for the four weeks preceding the race although I did manage to do some hiking with help of poles on the descents.

Ultimately though what stopped me was the heat and cramp.

At the start line

The cramp started kicking in after around six hours on the descent coming down to the checkpoint at Ogwen but other than that I was feeling okay.

Day -1, The Calm Before the Storm

Lots of races badge themselves as the hardest in the world. It’s very subjective and impossible to compare something like the Spine to The Marathon Des Sables or Badwater they all have different challenges. The Dragons Back goes for a specific niche “The toughest mountain race in the world”- it’s a hard statement to argue against. For me the toughest element was the multi day nature of the event. I’ve done lots of long events, back to back long training days and completed a Bob Graham Round in just over 21 hours but nothing on this scale. 195 miles over rugged mountainous terrain climbing (and descending) around 52,000 feet (almost twice the height of Everest from sea level).

Pre-race

I’d considered entering the inaugural running of this event last year but it sold out before I’d made the decision. For those unfamiliar with the event the following description is taken from the website :

“The Montane Cheviot Goat Winter Ultra will test even the most experienced ultra runner. 55 miles of the harshest winter trails, 9500 ft of lung-bursting ascent including the highest summit, The Cheviot, standing at 2,674 ft. Throw into the mix the unpredictable Northumberland weather that includes everything from deep snow, ice, gale force winds and torrential rain and you’ll be tested physically and mentally.”

Even before I had completed my Bob Graham Round last year I had decided that my next big challenge was going to be a Paddy Buckley Round. It is similar in terms of ascent and distance but widely considered much tougher because of the roughness of the terrain and lack of trods/footpaths.

Given the reccying I had done I definitely agreed with this and knew that it was going to be a challenge to complete in under 24 hours which was my goal and my schedule. I hadn’t done as much training as I did for my BGR last year and had a few annoying niggles which I hadn’t been able to shift, mainly a sore left glute and right angle which I’d twisted about 6 times during my training. I hadn’t been feeling well in myself either and considered cancelling the attempt a number of times.

Well all good things must come to an end and my Bob Graham journey came to an end when I climbed the stairs and touched the door of the Moot Hall in Keswick at 7:19pm Saturday 24th June.

It was the culmination of 7 months of training and around 5 years of planning, procrastinating, talking and preparation – to say I was happy is an understatement.

I was working on a 22 hour schedule and my training had went well so I was confident going into round.

The West Highland Way has long tickled my fancy - I had ran the first 53 miles of it back in 2010 in the Highland Fling Race (my firrst ultra) so I was familiar with some of the route, although the more interesting sections lie north of Tyndrum. What better an adventure to have over the long bank holiday jubilee weekend.

When planning the trip I thought I’d be able to cover the 96 miles in 3 days relatively comfortably. The route is well graded, apart from a short section along Loch Lomond isn’t technical and generally sticks to low ground. However taking travel into consideration this would make very long days and I didn’t particularly relish the long drive back afterwards. I decided instead to give myself 4 days, starting from Fort William and heading south. Not many people do the route in this direction but it meant I got most of the travelling out of the way on the first day and wasn’t restricted by train times on the return.

I made an unsucessful attempt at a Paddy Buckley Round bak in 2018 (see write up https://robbrooks.run/running/paddybuckly2018/) and it’s been on my radar to have another go ever since but for a number of reasons I’ve never had the chance to go back.

A free long weekend in April presented the opportunity to fastpack the route over 3 days - the forecast was dry and relatively warm but windy. Katherine was wanting to do some big miles in preparation for her upcoming Bob Graham Round (which she stormed round in 21 hours 42 mins) so I asked her if she wanted tto come along. She thought about it for about 2 seconds and jumped at the chance.

The Cleveland Way

https://www.strava.com/activities/6146623708