Jen & Jim on the Fellsman

Kit check in Threshfield the night before had been exciting, a chance to look at the field and relieve a little tension. We got there early and were first to be checked. This is no formality, every aspect of your kit is examined. We'd passed the first test and were back home by 8pm.

After 16 weeks of training the countdown was over. It's 05:00 and my alarm went off on Fellsman morning. I was feeling 75% excitement, 25% scared or was it vice versa? Kerrie and I had talked so much about what to do, when to eat, what to set off in. So many questions unanswered.

We were both untested at the 100km distance. How would our stomachs handle food when we were really tired? Having witnessed first-hand just how much the Fellsman can take out of you seeing Stobbsy, Jim and Paul finishing in 2012 in that horrendous weather, you'd think I'd be scarred for life. Instead I was relishing the idea.

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The Haworth Hobble and Calderdale Hike had been mere stepping stones en route to our final goal to complete the formidable Fellsman event. We brushed those two events aside without a second’s thought when really they are brilliantly difficult events that I'm proud to have finished.

I'd read my Fellsman handbook cover to cover, studied the maps packed and re-packed my 10lb back pack then finally, enough talk let’s get it on.

We arrived at 07:30 courtesy of Kerrie’s husband Max who'd very kindly offered to chauffeur us about. All we had to do now was pick up the famous Fellsman tally and go to the toilet. No queue, ladies rule!

Standing on the field in Ingleton was a little surreal. Was I really ready? My fellow Fellsman competitors were a hardy looking bunch, weathered and well equipped. I'd say the average age was between 35 and 55. Most of them looked like they lived on the fells. Gulp! My mother and father in law and two girls had driven up to wish me good luck which was a great send off for me.

Our group was already formed, the "TAC Bogtrotters" included Kerrie, myself, Jim and Matt. Jim had offered to stick with us to take any navigational dilemmas away from the start, leaving us to run and try enjoy the day.

I walked down through the control gate and got the easiest clip of the day. Once you step onto the starting field and are clipped you cannot leave the field for anything. I got carried away hugging everyone for a while wishing my fellow TAC members good luck. At 08:30 (new FM time) we had a 24-hour weather report and were off. The leaders set off at pace! Blimey surely they don't run that way for 62 miles?

It's a tough start to the day, you climb up and over Ingleborough to Hill Inn where we saw Andrea and San cheering us on. Then it's on to Whernside before reaching Kingsdale. On the run in across the stream we were greeted by a young lad about sux and as Yorkshire as they come shouting "Ay up, keep goin' only 48 to go!" Mmmmmm, not too motivational bless him. I was asked to show my gloves, hat and head torch here for a random kit check. I filled my bottles and treated myself to some of the legendary flapjack that everyone talks about. It didn't disappoint.

The next challenge is Gragareth. At just over 2000ft it's not the highest point but probably the steepest climb of the day. It’s a scramble on all fours near the top. From the trig point it's a boggy run along the tops to Great Coum. The next 5 miles to Flinters Gill was tough for me. Kerrie, Matt and Jim could relax and recover on the descent to Dent but I really struggled on the rocky trails and was glad to get off that section.

As we approached Dent the young Yorkshire lad turned up again. This time with a better speech "Ay up, if tha turns right at that land rover it'll teck thi on a reet good short cut to Dent, don't worry am tellin' everyone!" I was glad to get to Dent. It's only 20 miles in but you've already done about 5000ft of ascent. We stopped and took our packs off and sat to enjoy the sun and sausage rolls.

Setting off from Dent I knew the next section was tough. You have a mile or two on road before snaking your way up and up and up to Blea Moor checkpoint. I was beginning to feel it by this point which was worrying me a little as I still had a potential 40 miles to go. From Blea Moor to Stonehouse is an easy run cross country and downhill. It's still tussocky and hard under foot but it's so picturesque the scenery takes your mind off running.

We reached Stonehouse 27 miles in and stopped for pasta and tomatoes. Jim had his kit checked whilst I enjoyed the array of food on offer. I could have stayed here longer but Jim was keeping a close eye on our stops and after 15 mins was keen for us to get moving. We later found out he was eager to get over Fleet Moss before nightfall.

The next clip was Great Knoutberry. Blimey, what a climb! It was beginning to feel like every climb we did was longer and tougher than the previous one. We made good time from the trig across to Redshaw where we stopped for another 10 minutes, but cracks were appearing in our group a little now. The jollies and jokes had subsided and everyone looked a touch more focused.

Matt was suffering with sickness, thinking something he ate disagreed with him. Jim was busy looking at the map and contemplating the best way across the next section, whilst Kerrie and I helped ourselves to hotdogs.

They say the Fellsman is split into three halves! The hilly half, the boggy half and the dark half. We were now at the start of the boggy half and were introduced to it by a fellow runner sinking up to his knees in wet marsh land. Oh great!

The most noticeable change at Redshaw was that for the first time in the race we couldn't see runners in front or behind us. We had to navigate at a time in the race where I was just starting to switch off a little. From Redshaw to Dodd Fell was hard going, both under foot and on the climbs. The hotdogs I'd shovelled down were repeating on me and making me feel queasy.

We caught another group but decided we weren't sure which way they were going. We decided to stick to what looked like the most obvious route along the walls edge to Fleet Moss. The other noticeable point was the lack of any sort of path.

From Ingleborough to Hill Inn to Whernside as we all know are easy, well-trodden footpaths. But from the minute you branch off Whernside at about 9 miles it starts to get harder under foot. By Blea Moor you're really struggling for any sort of path and by Redshaw all trails have pretty much gone.

Fleet Moss! Okay here we go! The infamous, dreaded Fleet Moss. Everyone talks about how hard it is and how rough the terrain is. It helped that we were greeted here by Matt Wilcock. It was great to see a friendly face, it lifted our spirits a lot. The food looked great but I still had the taste of hotdogs in my mouth and couldn't stomach eating anything.

Cutting off the road it was obvious immediately that Fleet Moss was gonna be tough. We were running on the slope of the fell and as far as the eye could see it was covered in large tussocks. Jim had a pre-loaded route across Fleet Moss courtesy of Stobbsy. It was the route he'd run last year and had said it was 95% runnable. This was true, if you were a gazelle or if you were being chased by the American werewolf. It was far from runnable for me.

Fleet Moss is a seven mile stretch, which doesn't sound too bad, but the size of the tussocks really drains you. It was really hard graft. We were at best 45 mins from sunset and we had yet to find Middle Tongue checkpoint. Jim was slightly concerned and busy following his GPS line whilst comparing it to the map. He'd decided to disregard the GPS, not that it was wrong but because it was so different to his previous two years across this section and he reckoned we should have reached Middle Tongue by now!

After what seemed like an age, we stopped to take a bearing and put our waterproofs on and decided we were too close to the fell edge. Jim tripped face first into a bog which made us all chuckle. Funnily Jim didn't laugh. We ran up and across the moor for about 1km before much to our relief we spotted the CP tent amongst the tussocks. And breathe...

Head torches on. I'd trained plenty with Kerrie running at night and with my super-dooper Hope R4 on was confident enough to move at pace whilst out training on Boulsworth. But this was no Boulsworth! We were STILL caught up deep in tussock-land and walking was hard enough. Jim dropped us down to a fence line which we followed without incident to the rocky track leading to Hell Gap. I was very pleased to finally get off Fleet Moss. We clipped at Hell Gap and I dared to take a look at my tally. It started to look like we were getting somewhere now.

Suddenly without any sort of warning I was suffering. Looking back now it could have just been the fact I'd run 45 miles but I knew I still had more to give. Yes I was tired but far from exhausted. But boy did I feel sick. Nothing I thought of or did took the feeling away, was it something I'd eaten or was this just how it felt to run this long? We'd been moving for 14 hours now and I think it was just that fact, my body didn't like it. We stopped for 15 minutes at Cray so I could try to eat something. It only made matters worse, so we decided to use our additional layers and head out into the night for the big push up Buckden Pike.

It was at that point a marshal placed a friendly hand on my shoulder and asked if I was okay. As soon as he asked I realised I wasn't. I was ushered back into the tent, covered in blankets and given a cup of tea and choccy biscuits. Yes I was cold, yes I was tired and the weight of my back pack was really starting to take its toll, but I still felt I could go on yet disappointingly knew my race was over. The thought of another 17 hard hilly miles was daunting and I was also worried about holding the group up.

I was aware that the doctor was listening to everything I said to Jim and I doubt he'd have let me go on even if I'd have said I was fine. They took my tally off me and as quickly as that I was out. My FM was over. Gutted! :-(

The rest of the group had to wait to be regrouped. Rules stipulate a minimum of four per group at night. Kerrie wasn't for continuing, she was more concerned about me and wanted to stop to make sure I was okay. After a wait the remaining three TAC Bogtrotters were married up with more runners and they were gone. The last thing I heard them say was "Do we have a navigator amongst us?!" Poor Jim :-)

Luckily the event organisers John and Sue were in the area in their awesome luxury VW camper van. Normally you'd have to wait for the body bus to do the rounds but John and Sue offered to take me back to Threshfield themselves. They wrapped me in an all in one fleecy zip up sleeping bag which was very comforting. Sue gave me a huge piece of flapjack which tasted great. They are both lovely people and I really appreciated them looking after me.

I started to feel much better travelling back to Threshfield and wondered if I could have gone on. Once back at Threshfield Sue made me a hot chocy whilst I waited for my father in law to pick me up. As I wondered about the remaining TAC Bogtrotters, my thoughts were already turning to next year’s event, even though my whole body ached. I will be back and I WILL finish!

JIM COVERS THE FINAL MILES…

My legs didn't like running again after being stationary for an hour. We'd been grouped with what seemed like a good set of runners. They were keen to get going which suited us. Kerrie set the pace as we headed off into the fog. We stuck to the left-hand side of the ravine and started climbing through the fields parallel to the footpath to the trig. It didn't take long for us to reach the Buckden Pike CP.

While we waited to be checked we all introduced ourselves. The three guys were from Manchester and were first timers on the Fellsman. We didn't hang about here, it was starting to get quite cold. Kerrie decided to perform a triple twist with pike into a bog which took her breath away. I don't know why we laugh at other people's misfortune but I couldn't help it. Kerrie didn't share the joke. Sorry!

We headed off to Top Mere stopping only for a history lesson at the war memorial from me. Not sure they really cared at that time in the morning. It's tricky finding any sort of path from Top Mere on to Park Rash but that didn't stop Kerrie. She was moving really well and if anything was running stronger now than at the start.

As we made our way into the tent at Park Rash I was surprised when she told us she was dropping out! Part of me thinks I should of tried lifting her spirits but I was still feeling rough myself. She was cold and wet and I think losing her "wingman" had knocked the wind out of her sails. I didn't push the matter.

Kerrie handed in her tally (almost fully clipped) and we pushed on. I was gutted for the ladies. On a positive note I don't think it was fitness that let them down, maybe just not quite mentally prepared for those last miles.

We left the tent and began what I think is the worse climb of the route, Great Whernside. It's a horrendously boggy mess of a climb that seems to go on and on. To add to the fact that I didn't feel too good by this point, there seemed to be a new fence up there. We reached the CP in some serious fog. We had at best 10 feet of visibility. I was convinced the tent was different to last year too. (Was I just tired?)
I took time out on one knee just to try focus and get my bearings.

After a quick look at the map we took a bearing from the checkpoint to the fence line and aiming off a little started running. Once we started descending I could picture in my mind where we were and knew even if we didn't come to the fence line, Starbotton Lane was below us and we were almost home from there. We reached Capplestone Gate through the bogs without incident. Our group was in good spirits and with six miles to go we were confident we could enjoy the last few clips.

Matt's sickness had passed and he was running strong now. Soon enough we spotted the flashing beacons leading us home for the last three. Thoughts of how we were gonna get home started to enter our minds. Surely Kerrie and Max would be back home now. It was 03:30.

We ran well to Yarnbury and checked in for our penultimate clip. Matt and I ran to Threshfield happy. For Matt this was the end of a journey that started two years ago. He picked up a horrendous injury on the Heptonstall Fell Race that plagued him for 12 months so he'd put the FM to the back of his mind. It must have been a great feeling to finally finish it.

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We arrived back tired and cold at 04:15 to find Kerrie and Max had waited for us to take us home. We were so grateful. I don't know if everyone would have done that. It's the TAC way though isn't it? I shouldn't have been surprised.

Another tally fully clipped for me. I did say after the first it was once only but I've already promised to run with the girls again next year. Roll on 2015.

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