Strong winds and bog but an absence of fog make an entertaining Trog
trog
— verb (often followed by along), trogs, trogging, trogged
informal (British) to walk heavily or laboriously, aimlessly or heavily; stroll
And so it was, with a forecast of strong winds and approaching rain, the TAC contingent made their excursion across the border to take on the Trog around Wadsworth Moor. Character building would best describe the events that followed.
If you’ve never visited Wadsworth Moor, take a trip up the Hebden Bridge to Haworth road and take a look to the west. You’ll see tussocks, bog and an expansive Pennine wasteland. Unless it’s been dry for about 6 months, you’re probably best observing from the warmth of your car. Open the window if you must – but let me tell you, those tussocks will trip the unwary, the bog is bottomless and navigational features are hard to come by.
The guys at Calder Valley Fell Runners have set out an excellent, challenging and scenic (Yorkshire) 20 mile course for all to enjoy (and I must say at this point what an excellent job of organising the event Hannah and her team from CVFR had done). The course starts with a lap of Chiserley before beginning the ascent up onto the mood proper via Deer Stones Edge. This early on the race, already the wind had picked up and runners with their hoods up appeared to have balloon heads as many of us queued to cross the stiles onto the moor. The climb up tonto High Brown Knoll was pleasant enough, lulling us into a false sense of security for the trip to follow.
After the trig the bottomless bog began. Runners tumbled like clowns in a slap-stick sketch as the bog opened up and swallowed us, without warning, sometimes waist deep. This took us on a steep descent to Upper Dean Head reservoir before a steep climb back onto the moor proper. Featureless moorland and more runner-swallowing bog led us to a checkpoint at the Howarth road.
From here a pleasant loop took us to Top o’ Stairs and along another wall line, again crossing open moor, to join the Pennine Way and climb to Top Withins. Now the hoolly began – winds whipped up the Pennine Way like a cat-o-nine-tails and runners entered their own personal battles to tackle the good going over flag stones and descend to Walshaw Dean reservoir.
The following section was all fairly runnable and (dare I say?) a pleasant trek over some stunning South Pennine scenery. Past shooting boxes and with long reaching views, as the sun came out I had a timely reminder of why I run. Catching up with Dean and his North-Eastern brother Iain, I even tried to lead them in a chorus of “ten green bottles” as we re-crossed the moor from Walshaw, past a drink station and back to the mast at Cock Hill (swamp! It’s called swamp on the OS map, FFS!). Needless to say, Dean noticeably quickened his pace to escape my singing.
Once back at Cock Hill the fun began. The Met Office had predicted 70 mph winds – but I’m not sure they weren't quite so light. We headed south, across the aforementioned bog, but this time into the howling teeth of a southerly gale. Progress, it should be noted, was slow. Some navigation and bearing-taking across some open fell took us back to High Brown Knoll. By this time I’d grouped up with Kerrie-Anne, so at least there was some company. We deviated slightly off the main path to take in CP13 at a trig-point which was (confusingly) not at the high-point of the moor. The drop off to Wood End was followed by a steep climb back up to the mill chimney and Old Town Cricket Club for a welcome soup and piece of cake.
A hugely enjoyable (if character building) run out in tough conditions, which left me with confidence that I could go further (dare I mention the Hobble?). I will point out, however, that 20 miles is a conservative estimate for this course – but then, they were Yorkshire miles. Hats off to Debbie and Peter, first TACs back, in considerably more respectable times than mine