Rombalds
Stride 2nd February 2013
Weather – sunny/ mild NW breeze/ 0oC
The Rombalds
Stride is a long-distance walking event.
It is a great spectacle. Boots,
gaiters, thermos flasks and enough silly hats to put Millets out of, erm, I
mean challenge Go Outdoors! And, for some time now, the event has been gate-crashed
by runners. Not just any runners,
though: fell-runners - a strange breed of athlete who would appear to also
enjoy the fells although at speed and not always able to take in the fine views
on offer. At this event, walkers would
also be able to enjoy at various checkpoints and at a bit more leisure the
selection of cakes, bakes and hot drinks on offer! As one of the runners, though, I would get
first dibs on the hot pie, potatoes and peas at the end…
The official
start area for the race is basically the public land between bungalows adjacent
to the A65. Entrants were busy fiddling
straps, nervously swigging from drinks bottles or adjusting footwear. I had just started talking to friends not
seen in years when a loud signal alerted entrants to commence. And like a flock of starlings the massed
group filtered towards a gap in the wall.
Some brave (and pointless really) athletes vaulted the 3 foot stone wall
while others sensibly appreciated the enormity of the race ahead. I quickly calculated that the race could not
be completed in the first 50 metres, but it easily could have ended.
Before
entering Esholt Woods I passed on brief best wishes to other runners, including
Dave Maguire (Hyde Park Harriers) and Steve Pattinson (fellow Pudsey Pacer). Then spent a few moments trying to evade
walkers with poles on the residential streets of Guiseley! I guess they were possibly trying for a wee
spurt to give them a little advantage over others in walking boots? Down the field and safely navigated under the
rail bridge then the race split into two: the main group filing left of the
beck across the footbridge and up the steep track and a splinter group turning
right immediately after the underpass.
Again at this early stage I’m not sure if there was much to gain. At the top of this first small climb the race
route cut straight ahead – ignoring the muddy tracks left and right – over
fallen leaves and small becks. I gave a
final good wish to Mark Nolan (fellow PP) as he skipped past with a small
rucksack firmly affixed to his back. I would again next meet Mark at Menston,
some 18 miles further on.
Sunshine blinded
the field as it descended across copper leaves and out into Esholt village. From
the soft envelope of the woods the tarmac surface sent a quick shock up through
my body and reminded me of my mantra for the first section – go steady and
identify other runners with whom to pace.
I glanced across the valley to the north-west and tried to identify the
leaders already rounding the War Memorial above Hollins Lane. Quickly it seemed, the route turned right off
the tarmac lane and cut across a pasture field to reach Hollins Lane. Surprisingly, a group of walkers (each with
tally cards for checkpoints) had already reached this point. Incidentally, the leading group of runners
passed some walkers who had apparently set off at 8.00am further on at Weecher Reservoir! This wouldn’t affect the runners but may
alter a fair record for the completed walkers.
I removed my
227 coin to deposit in the bucket drop and received a warm support from DJB and
Tina. While others slowly plotted their
way up and across a sticky field I felt strong and ferreted up towards the left
of the Old Chapel. The stile has been
helpfully altered to allow pedestrian access and the snicket behind was
overgrown, hiding the route ahead. More
early starters were passed as the runners snaked up and along a lane, and down across
a half-step stile to the track, left of the War Memorial. The route turns sharp left and a line of
runners stretched out up over the moor ahead.
Beyond the first 500m of semi-frozen, sticky mud the field then received
the first blast of winter breeze as it crossed wet grass up towards Moorside
Farm. Another PP, Steve Boom (Boom,
Shake The Room!), commented on my pedestrian approach up towards the second
checkpoint and sarcastically the lack of prizes for walking; I wonder what the
nearby walkers made of this comment?!
I decided to
miss the offer of cake and drinks; my race plan was to hopefully get to Weecher
in approximately 60 minutes and then take on supplies. Steve Boom shortly passed me again with a
HUGE chunk of sponge cake in hand and whilst munching away he splurted
something to me (later confirmed as (a) did I miss the cake on offer and (b) how
much he loved this race). The ground
around the northern fringes of Baildon was coincidentally very spongey, with
soft peat turf covered by lots of recently fallen rain and surface water. The slow rise up Baildon Moor displayed some
ice and evidence of things to come. I
again conserved energy and preserved the leg muscles as the route steepened up
the Moor. The wind again showed some
teeth on the top; much like the altercation between the two dogs whose owners
were struggling to keep them apart. I
again removed my tally card inside my clothing and clipped at the third
checkpoint.
In full blast
of the cold wind I peered north and briefly saw runners already darting up and
over towards Lanshaw Lad. Tears fell
down my face – the cold wind not feeling dispirited. Honest!
I followed a runner in shorts and a hi-viz orange jacket who was
carrying only a water bottle. I would
again see, lose and then see again this runner over the next 2-3 miles. The route sharply fell off Baildon Moor into
the shade and ground cover of frozen bracken.
After crossing the tarmac road I quickly clipped at the fourth
checkpoint titled Baildon Moor 2. The
path then crossed largely frozen ground and the only thing I remember was
saying good morning to a female runner who was having a wee in long grass. The route then ran on pleasant soft grass
adjacent to the grit of the horse tracks and then onto a tarmac road. Hi-Viz Orange again passed me. After a brief zig-zag the route reached the
fifth checkpoint and I clipped with Lord Davies of Guiseley. I reached the end my first section in just
over my estimate target; I therefore only consumed 4 jelly babies and a glass
of orange!
I’d prior
identified my next section from Weecher to Piper’s Gate and estimated it would
likely take me 50mins. Other runners walked up past Weecher Reservoir as they
consumed cakes and took on energy gels.
I felt strong and didn’t want to get cold especially with the open
section of Ilkely Moor to tackle next. I
eased up the incline and went passed 4-5 runners, including Hi-Viz Orange. A small section of busy road was safely
navigated and a further bolster of support from two good folk who resembled DJB
and Tina D! Again, Hi-Viz passed me at
speed on an early moorland stretch of Bingley Moor. The stiffening breeze was certainly a
test. As was the shadows cast from the
sun behind to the south. Either runners following
would cast their shadow over my striding path or I would do similar with my
own. I decided to keep my head down and
focus on only 4-5 strides ahead. This
was partly not to feel overly fazed by the route up ahead and also because I
was cautious of losing my contact lenses in the head wind. Through a boggy undulating section I passed Hi-Viz
Orange for the final time. I wouldn’t
again see his unorthodox style of sprint/ walk/ sprint/ walk. I hope he finished ok and didn’t get injured
and/ or cold. I don’t think the water
bottle was offer much warmth or insulation.
The route
opened out into deep, boggy terrain with burnt heather on one side after crossing
through a large, steel gate with stone walls on either side. I recalled my mantra again and identified two
female runners who seemed to be adopting a similar pace. Moreover, they both displayed an efficient
running gait on this difficult ground.
And one of them presented a shapely rear that is helpful to follow! The boggy ground soon gave way to a firmer and
smoother track which gently began to rise in gradient. Whetstone Gate mast was in view to the
left. I soon passed the Twelve Apostles
to the right and skipped on to the recently laid flagstones across the top of
Ilkley Moor.
I promptly
clipped my tally card at the sixth checkpoint titled Lanshaw Lad and followed a
male runner on the flags. Although the
firm stone should – in theory – offer a kinder and quicker surface, this was
not the case. The flags are positioned
primarily for walkers and, as such, each slab is generally designed to the full
stride of an adult rambler; when running one has to adjust every 3-4 strides to
ensure a foot is not placed on or near the small and uneven gap between two
slabs. Also, there were sections that
were frozen and – especially for those wearing studded fell shoes – this presented
additional challenges. In fact, it was
so cold on the tops that the refreshments were all semi-frozen at the Whetstone
Gate checkpoint. Lastly, there were a
plethora of paparazzi along the track towards the mast. The only time I remember lifting my head was
to spot the next photographer and then wipe saliva off my face
accordingly. I can’t remember enjoying
the view from the highest point on the route which seems a bit of shame,
really.
I departed
from the seventh checkpoint with a spring in my step. This may have been the orange juice consumed
or the handful of sweets that were inside my mouth. The reality however was that I’d realised a
gap had been created between me/ others and the next runner, some 500m ahead. Unfortunately, I set off too enthusiastically
and as I skipped between an open field gate and the fence post I caught my hip
on the gate bolt. Ouch! I also nearly
choked on those jelly babies! Boggy
ground to the left of the stone wall quickly gave way to a wooden stile and
descending down a rocky outcrop and heading to the right of the forest on Rombalds
Moor. I surprisingly caught up with the
runners ahead before beginning the descent down heather fields to Piper’s
Gate. Like most other runners, I found
myself turning 90o west as other runners passed in the opposite
direction. Verbal instruction soon
established the next checkpoint was two fields over and then required a return
run. Steve Pattinson (fellow PP) passed
approximately 90 seconds ahead having already reached the eighth checkpoint
titled Piper’s Gate. We shared eyed
contact and then he was gone. I would
next see Steve heading towards Guiseley after the Chevin. A quick glance at my watch indicated that my
second race section had taken nearly 60 minutes and a little over my estimation.
Dodging past
other runners I then crossed through a gate and the view of the day was before
me. Looking east along Ilkley Moor,
beyond the Cow and Calf and then in the distance, the forested Otley Chevin. Gulp… such a long way to go! My penultimate
race section was from here to Burley Woodhead.
I expected this to take 60mins. Occasionally,
I did glance up at the majestic Wharfedale valley. And this was an amazing view!
Sun cast shadows from the ridge to the
south and beyond tree lines. The
moorland to the north was crisp and in clear focus. The next 2 miles however were more technical
than anticipated; I didn’t get a chance to relax and at least temporarily switch
off mentally. The gradient on the
stretch to Ilkley is generally down and should have been a fine recovery
section. However, large parts were dissected
by frozen surface water run-off and each runner had to keep their eyes ahead to
plot a safe passage. This was once
further complicated by two chocolate Labradors who were ignored by their owner
and keen to play with anything that moved.
I veered off
the hardcore path to the right and headed for the ninth checkpoint at Ilkley
Bottom. A few young Scouts were in
charge of administering the check. A
handful of sweets and a slab of chocolate flapjack and off up over the road
bridge and down the tarmac road. As a
runner returned to reclaim a dropped glove, I took a bite of the flapjack and
nearly lost a few teeth – the slice was well frozen in the cold air (or perhaps
the Ilkley WI needs to improve on their produce!). The route turned right some 250 metres down
the road. I sucked on the sweet for a
bit then as the gradient rose I had to spit it out. I would’ve needed a fine brew to wash it
down. As the steep, cobbled climb to
White Wells approached I did however offer a jelly baby to a fellow
competitor. He was so happy that for
moment I thought he was about to give me an embrace - mud, sweat and dried
saliva! I then received a bit of morale
support from Dr D, Mama D and Mr. Dog who’d kindly waited in the cold. I shared a brief chat and little drink then
hugged all (including Mr Dog) before heading further up to the ridge above.
I soon passed
through Rocky Valley with its technical steps and ankle-turning stones. Back into the sunshine and a few runners
ahead appeared to take a lower route towards the next target of Coldstone
Ghyll. Big thanks to the Coopers for
showing me the more efficient route. As
I passed the Pancaske Stone I seemed to – metaphorically – fall off a cliff. My energy levels suddenly depleted and I had
little or no fuel in the tank. My legs
were quickly heavy as I tried to focus on the route ahead and keep other
runners in sight. Nobody passed me;
although I lost complete sight of the two runners ahead (one of whom was the
wee lady from near Weecher). I somehow
managed to plod one muddy foot in front of the other. A brief stop and some rations at the next
checkpoint was my only focus. I easily
traversed Coldstone Ghyll and on rising up the far bank I began to unclip my
waist pack. The checkpoint was 50 metres
ahead. Without warning I was on my
side. Crash! This was not the time for complex equations, but
put simply: Hard fall = Conditions (Fell-studs + Ice) x Lack of concentration. A kind runner picked up my discarded waist
pack and made sure I was ok. Dozy sod,
he likely thought. Some energy consumed in the form of sugar sweets, energy gel
and water and I headed off from the tenth checkpoint. Soon, I was heading down a frozen grass
hillside and through the gates to the eleventh checkpoint at Burley Woodhead.
The previous
section had taken 75 minutes; including brief stops and falls. I was now on the final section. I adjusted my
waist bag over my left shoulder as it was starting to hurt my stomach. A sharp sound of a car horn was followed by
an request for a condition update from DJB and Tina. I tried to sound jovial, but was honest to
say that I felt knackered! Turning right
up the main road, the route then went left down the lane and through the metal
kissing gate at the end. I could see
runners just lurching over the grassed fields towards Menston. I safely negotiated the few stiles and gates,
and paddled through a very muddy, wet snicket that led out on to Bleach Mill
Lane. The gentle hill on the approach to
the village was much harder than I recall during the reccie. The sun hit my face again as I turned left
down towards the centre of the village.
Just after turning left at Burley Road and right on to Fairfax Road I
joined up with half a dozen other runners.
I recognized some of their clothing; I even remembered a few faces. The back of a runner was definitely familiar
as was his clear limp down one side.
Mark Nolan (fellow PP) was suffering and still had 5 hard miles to
conquer. He gritted his face as I asked
if he was ok. A fall and a twisted knee
had curtailed his race. I wouldn’t see
him again until the finish, but with more grit and likely some cursing he did
finish.
After
crossing the rail bridge, main road and guiding others down the snicket by the
waste bin, I actually started to enjoy the race again. I knew I hadn’t yet tackled the hard slog up
and over the Chevin. But, again I
replayed the overall race mantra: enjoy the day! I followed a few other runners up and along
the Gill Brow; I even managed to pull clear of some of them before the route
descended down West Chevin Road. Perhaps
unwisely – given the number of cars - I decided to run on the road; I wanted to
conserve my leg muscles and preserve whatever I had left for the Chevin. A
family skipped down the grass slope - all happy and laughing - as I hurled my
bulk up against the hillside. I walked
immediately but wanted to keep moving; as much to take on the challenge and
also because the north side of the hill was cold in the shade. I glanced up and saw other runners approximately
250 metres ahead, just disappearing into the wooded area. From then on I counted in steps of 25 and
didn’t look any further ahead than the next stride in front of me. A bearded male and a spritely female both
eased past me. Instinctively, I tried to increase my pace and lengthen the
stride to keep with them however an immediate warning of possible hamstring
cramp restored my approach to something more economical.
I quickly
clipped at the twelfth checkpoint - ambiguously titled Above Stile - and
progressed to the large wooden steps.
Shortly on, the route then crossed through soft ground with a covering
copper beech leaves. I glanced back and
could see one or two runners some 200 metres back. At the crest of the hill, among conifers and
sheltered from the wind, I tried to engage body into a light run. Those first dozen strides suggested that my
legs belonged to someone else. I soon
got the feeling back and, just before the thirteenth checkpoint at Yorkgate Quarry,
was shot by the Pudsey Pacer Paparazzi! I turned right on to the tarmac road and the
Aire Valley swept out in front of me. I
was soon turning left on to a broken, muddy and very soft lane towards
Guiseley. I safely navigated the deep
muddy puddles with broken ice and turned on to Moor Lane. I could see two runners already on the road
for home. I gained great strength in the
final stretch and even caught one of the two runners ahead. Steve Pattinson (fellow PP) had given his all
and I ushered him to work with me past the church to the finish. As we approached the school a finish sign
directed us to the reception area. I’d
successfully completed in 4hrs 13 and was equally chuffed not to endure cramp
at any time. A great day, excellent race
and will definitely be back in 2014… hopefully breaking 4 just before 40!
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