Day two began in stark contrast to day one. After an evening spent hiding in the tent from the ceaseless drizzle, Sunday’s morning began crisp and bright, if not a little chilly. The tactic of leaving our clothes on throughout the night to dry off had paid off – no putting horrible cold damp clothes on for us! Getting the stove on, we got the coffee on the go before turning to breakfast. Today’s choice was yesterday’s pudding – and in actual fact much more palatable that the usual porridge we had gone for in the past. Yum. Finally, all was sorted, so we struck the tent and saw to our ablutions, ready for our 9:30 start. I think this was the first time on the OMM that I have been glad of a slow start to day 2, but it has to be said, Cockley Beck was glorious that morning!
The strapping on my left foot had loosened significantly since the beginning of day one, and I approached the running with a little trepidation. Understandably, Chris wanted to push the pace, but my foot was really having none of it over certain terrain. Uphill was generally alright, as was along, but contouring fast was pretty much out of the question.
Picking up our map at the start, we looked at a probable route with a variety of possible quick ways out, or extra loops to add depending on how we (really I) were moving.
The start of the day was familiar as we took the racing line from the Old County Tops up to the saddle between Grey Friar and Great Carrs. The initial plan had been to skirt round Grey Friar to pick up a 10 pointer, but on the way up we decided to ignore it. The effort required to get there just wasn’t worth 10 points, and so we pushed on to Brim Fell before dropping off above Low Water to pick up our first 30 pointer. From there it was a quick double back but on a lower contour to pick up another 30 from the hummock above Gill Cove Crag.
Thus far the day had been sunny, and as soon as we had dropped off the top to the first check point, we’d warmed up considerable, and so it was off with the jackets and down to mesh and a wind shirt for me. I’m not sure if running around the lakes in nothing but a string vest is a good look for anyone – maybe I’ll ask Stu Smith one day for his esteemed view on the matter :).
Wardrobe issues solved, we pushed on toward another check point just above Levers Water. This involved almost a km of contouring which slowed me right down – Chris seemed to be moving very well – no surprises there – but my frustration with my own body was increasing. The sun was well and truly up and it had turned into one of the best autumn days in the Lake District I have ever had the pleasure of enjoying.
Dibbing the next check point, we dropped quickly down on to the Eastern bank of Levers Water and skirted round to hit the saddle point south of Sunlight Crag. Up and over we went, trailing just behind an older team. The descent down to Red Dell Beck was slow going – PhD work and injury was beginning to really starting to punish – but no rest for the wicked; it was straight up the other bank to pick up the check point seated on a picturesque little knoll. A quick sausage roll, minus most of the pastry, and we got moving again to head over the southern tongue of Wetherlam to drop our way down into Crook Beck.
A little more contouring, and a fair amount of descending brought us to the next check point nestled under a boulder just below Red Gill Head. All I remember is enjoying the day, but moving much more slowly than I wanted. Story of 2017’s running really…
The next stretch was a bit boggy; slowish going; soothing on the ankle. Our destination was the disused mines east of Wetherlam, with a stiff pull up the flank of Wetherlam to a fork in the becks. The day was getting along nicely, we were about three and a half hours into our six hour day, and despite the slow movement, I was reasonable happy with how things had gone. I think Chris was understandably a little frustrated, and for that I am sorry, but we both knew I wasn’t fighting fit.
Eventually, the beck hove into sight, and the steepness of the climb suddenly felt very real. Off up Wetherlam we went; there was a team of lads about my age with us at the start, which spurred us on to push the pace. The check point was found without any real problem and the real work began. There is some masochistic joy to be found in the persistent uphill grind and Wetherlam provided that in spades. However, this was likely the last big climb of the day so we pressed on using hands and feet as the gradient increased.
Ah, the summit. Then some cheese and trying to turn the legs back on to run. Our next point to hit was in a small saddle between Wetherlam and Black Sails. This went quickly and we turned back to the path to find our way to the Prison Band. From the base of the Prison Band we turned north to descent toward a large sheep pen. We were back in the wind and into the shade, so it was zips up and sleeves down for a period. Again, my lack of downhill speed was frustrating – thank you Chris for putting up with a slow Johan.
One thing to come from the OMM this year was that we were now visiting little dales I’d never been to before, seeing lesser travelled areas of the Lakes, which was grand. I find great pleasure in leaving the beaten track and this little valley was beautiful. Maybe a spot for a bivvy in the future?
Checking the time and continuing north, we discussed the options for returning to the event centre. Chris was still considering heading around Pike of Blisco to pick up a few control points. I was keen to just hit the road and get back via the end of the Old County Tops via Blea Tarn. “We’ll just see what’s going on with the time when we get back to the top” said Chris. “Yeah, fair enough”…
Summitting onto the ridge above Three Shire’s Stone, we dropped quickly down to Wrynose Pass. As we approached the layby at the top, Chris proclaimed “ah fuck it, lets go home” – “yep, sounds good mate, there’s no way I’ll move fast enough over Pike of Blisco to pick up those controls. Let’s just head on back and enjoy it”.
So off we went.
It was a nice jog down Wrynose Pass, getting out of the way for the usual flock of Sunday drivers from time to time. At the bottom of the pass, it’s a turn to the left to head toward Blea Tarn. My lack of fitness was telling; I should have been moving a little faster given the terrain, but it was nice to enjoy that path without having endured the rest of the OCT just before. We passed a few families who were friendly enough, and kept the pace up as we turned round the tarn. Chris went into some bizarre auto pilot and tried to take us off along the southern bank of Blea Tarn.
At this point we were moving, trying to keep the pace up, but not killing ourselves. We knew we had time to get back and I think both of us were really just enjoying the good weather and company. Not so for a couple of teams we saw – a pair guys came running past, obviously late back to the finish, trying to get back through Wall End Farm to cut the large corner created by the road and track. Oops, not possible, but it did give us a warning as we were thinking of trying that route for ourselves.
A final quick jog past the Old Dungeon Ghyll brought us home. Well dones were given along the track back to the event centre, which was encouraging. Also encouraging was that the parking field the car was in wasn’t a complete quagmire – not quite the same circumstance in the camper’s parking field.
Eventually, we reached the finish line and dibbed in to finish our run. Hot juice and tea was waiting to lubricate our parched throats ready for chatting on with friends and acquaintances inside the marquee, where we joined the queue for bangers and mash. Excellent choice of post-race food this year by the way OMM.
Mooching about, we bumped into Stewie Smith and Barefoot Aleks with whom we had the classic conversation espousing the virtues of Brynje base-layers (they’re awesome by the way). Eventually, Kip and Dan rolled into the tent and we spent a few minutes catching up over food and a beer, before Kip was bundled away by some other Imperial College Mountaineering Club members who he’d caught a lift up with.
Lucy and Jim appeared and so Lucy, Chris and I hobbled back across to the car to start heading home. Yet again, I was glad that we were parked in the not-camping field as it had turned into a quagmire and so escape out of the field was trivial. But then Langdale was completely snarled up! There was a quick conversation as we entered Chapel Stile and stupidly I elected to stay in the valley rather than take the back road to Grassmere. No bother; the company was good and we didn’t have to be anywhere quickly, plus the drive back really wasn’t too far.
A quick stop at Chris’ for a cup of tea was all the weekend had left for us before heading home for a hot shower and a comfy bed. Overall we’d placed just in the top 1/4 of the field and, all things considered, I was very happy with that. There were a couple of mistakes made, but lessons learnt and so all-in-all a very good weekend.
Once again, thanks for reading – we hope you’ve enjoyed the tale.