Bob Graham write-up Part 1 - Bottle

So there we were, the team, in the car park in the centre of Keswick. All that I needed before the start was a wee. I jogged quickly to the public toilets……..to find that they were locked. Never mind. I imagined I’d be able to find a suitable spot to pee in peace somewhere in the next 24 hours of non-stop mountain madness. The weather decided to throw a couple of heavy downpours on us just to add confusion in the form of a big coat verses little coat debate. Knowing the surrounding hills rather well by now, big coat won.

We made our way to the Moot Hall (start and finish point in the market square) to find two other sizable groups of BG contenders having pictures taken. Vin and I lurked inconspicuously nearby. Adam rushed off to buy a suitable coat for his adventure, and returned at 18:03, just as Vin and I had touched the Moot Hall doors and set off towards the first mountain, 930 metre high Skiddaw.

Vin is a fantastic athlete. He has started VLM with the elite runners, and has clocked a 2:43 marathon. I can’t compete with that. But Vin and I are very different animals, (he is the thoroughbred racehorse to my mountain goat) and Vin was terrified. He hadn’t made it to any of the reccie runs, and I had spared no detail putting him in the picture. A successful Bob Graham requires an extremely high level of fitness, which Vin has. But it also requires ‘mountain experience’. And that is a very different thing. It’s a bit like training to wrestle a big dragon. No matter how fit and strong you are if you haven’t wrestled a good few dragons in training the big dragon will gobble you up.

The three groups of BG hopefuls merged together on the long easy climb up Skiddaw (I had my wee on the lower wooded slopes), and we all chatted. The pace was steady – set the rev counter to a little above tickover and plod onwards. There was no point pushing too hard. Don’t wake and anger the dragon if you want to slay it! The rain had eased and clear sky was moving in.

Around 7:15pm we hit the summit, dropped off its north shoulder and turned east down a long steep, soft, easy grassy descent. I was taking it swiftly but carefully. When I looked back Vin had slipped right to the back of the bunch and was clearly not happy with running down mountains. It that point I knew what would happen later on. I just didn’t predict quite how it would happen, or how soon.

The ground was soft, wet and marshy. The tiny path headed straight through ‘Candleseaves Bog’ and to the heather clad slope of Great Calva. I found myself at the front of the procession for the climb. Vin caught me just at the summit, just in time to have to descend again. And the same thing happened. Calva is not an easy mountain to run down. There is no proper path. After my reccie here I decided the best option was to simply head in the direction of the next mountain and beat a way through the heather. Luckily I found a very narrow ‘trod’, and I was running with my lower legs in a thin channel through the heather. I couldn’t see my feet and hoped not to meet anything that would twist an ankle. It was as if I were a scalextric car following the groove.

In the valley bottom flowed the river Caldew, which had to be crossed. No finesse involved here, just wade through. Once across I looked back to see runners scattered across the hillside, with Vin near the back again. “Oh well,” I thought, “He’ll catch me before the top of Blencathra”.

He did, but as he got to me he announced that he didn’t think he would make it round the BG. I had already worked this out. But with less than three mountains conquered and another thirty-nine to go I tried to sound optimistic and just said to continue as best as he could. Vin had fallen descending Calva and had lost his water bottle. I gave him mine and told him to finish it. He was soon to realise what losing his bottle would really mean.

We stood for a few minutes on the summit, 868metres high and stared in wonderment at the view. To the North West we could see across the Solway Firth and to the magnificent range of mountains in Dumfires and Galloway in Scotland. The sun had set behind them and they were silhouetted against a purple and crimson sky. As we took in the evening beauty I said to Vin, “This is why we do it!” He agreed.

Stretching around westwards and south-westwards, the high fells of the Lake District stared darkly and ominously back at us in the fading light. Immediately to our south, and an awfully long way down spread the valley floor; the few moving cars looking like ants. That was where we had to go next. And that was where Vin’s trouble really started.

The descent of Halls Fell ridge is very tricky. Dangerous wouldn’t be an exaggeration. The path clings for all it is worth to a steep, high, exposed knife-edge of rock. This descent was why I decided to bring the BG start two hours earlier than originally planned. I really didn’t want to do it in the dark. I wasn’t totally comfortable with it, but hey, let’s go.

http://www.english-lake-district.info/blencathra/blencathra-images/halls-fell.jpg

I could hear a crescendo of swear words from behind as Vin took his first few steps. He was going slowly and I was easily pulling away. Then he shouted back, “Matt, I can’t do it. I really can’t”. I looked back up and he was frozen to the spot on all fours. The big dragon had swung its tail and slain Vin with the first blow! Mountain experience counts for a lot.

I uttered a few words of encouragement, but he didn’t move. The other teams began to pass us, some scrambling on the ridge path and some in a very steep slightly grassy gulley called ‘Parachute’. Parachute didn’t look any easier.

Vin was terrified, properly scared. He shouted that I should leave him and run ahead. By now all the other runners had passed and we were alone. I told him I couldn’t leave him stuck up a mountain with night falling, and that he had two choices, come down with me or freeze, terrified until mountain rescue came in several hours time. He still didn’t move. Then he said he’d go back the other way. I told him that was impossible. He didn’t know the way and it would be dark very soon.

The shouted discussion continued for several minutes. Vin tried to move but he was clinging on as if to loose his grip would be to lose his life (not a completely impossible scenario). I had no choice but to climb back up to him and help nurse him down. This was painfully slow, and he kept telling me to run on. But to leave him there would have been negligent.

Eventually we reached easier, lower slopes and I knew he would eventually be slowly but safely down to the first checkpoint where MrsRTS and Bondy were waiting. Vin’s Bob Graham was truly over. Mine was still very much on, but I had a massive problem. We had barely started and from now on I would be alone – not at all an easy task. I had been delayed by nearly half an hour. More importantly, to be truly successful I also needed someone to verify me on each summit. I threw caution to the wind and raced off down the mountain towards Threlkeld, the check point and the other teams……….............................................................