The Day the Clouds Put on a Show: The Hexhamshire Hobble 2018
The 25th Hexhamshire Hobble was a great race and one of the most spectacular days I have ever experienced. It just goes to show that you don't need to travel very far to see some of the best mother nature has to offer.
Registration opened at 9:30am and we were a close second into the car park around 10 minutes early. There were four of us in the car; Andy, the driver, not racing but looking forward to enjoying a walk in the hills; Cath, looking forward to her first experience of the Hobble; Russell, ready for his second ever Fell race; and me. Cath and I had sent of postal entries because we were eager beavers but I hadn’t heard anything back and couldn't see the money from the cheque leaving my account. This along with Russell having only decided to enter three days before, after he checked the weather forecast and that he could get a lift, was why we had arrived in good time. Well, that and the promise of a free gift for the first 250 entrants!
We really had been eager beavers as Cath and I were handed numbers 1 & 2 respectively!
This year saw the inclusion of the race in the Tyne Bridge Harriers Presidents Shield. A range of 10 different races are selected at the start of the year and members earn points based on their performance at each race with the best 6 counting for the total. The top three in the standings had all turned out for the last race on the roster (Dave, David and Chris), two of them clutching identical shiny new trail shoes! Also donning the black and white vest were Marc and Jevan, both new to fell running but looking to translate fast road times into the hills, Mairi, continuing to expand her enjoyment of cross country and Neal, fresh from manning a checkpoint on Northumberland's highest peak most of the night for an ultra and rescuing a runner from hypothermia!
It wasn't just TBH with a good turn out however. Before long the school sports hall was buzzing with chatter and excitement. All the usual suspects had good representation: Northumberland Fell Runners; Durham Fell Runners; Low Fell; and North Shields Poly and a good mix of other clubs from the north east along with visitors from Pudsey & Bramley, Eden, and Ilford to name just a few.
The weather over the previous weeks had been wet with an extra dash of soggy so everyone was expecting a mud bath to rival a top class spa weekend by the time we got onto the moorland. The difficulty was the temperature. The morning had broken cold but the low lying cloud and still air had taken the edge off. Around the room the kit choice ranged from full body winter cover to vest and shorts. Whilst we chatted and joked waiting for the 11am race briefing I decided to go for shorts with a t-shirt under my vest. This meant a quick flash for my teammates as I took off my vest to put the shirt on underneath. The temperature wasn’t too cold in the village but that was likely to be a different story out on the course. 10 minutes later it was time to flash again, habit had won over, I always prefer to race in just a vest and shorts unless it’s clearly a bad idea, and I wasn't going to be out done by David and Chris!
After a signature entertaining and informative briefing from race director Brendon we left the comfort of the sports hall, past the endless table of delicious cakes (rewards are earned not given on the fells!) and out into the fresh air. As this was the 25th anniversary the race route was reversed with the opening 20% gradient swapped for a gentler but still uphill 2 mile drag. We gathered on Shilburn road next to the start flag, over 200 strong, waiting for the hooter. After the last few stragglers joined the throng, Brendon stood on the dry stone wall, and with the final announcements swiftly run through, set us away!
As always I had started too far back and on this occasion too far left as well, I had to dodge quickly towards the middle of the road to avoid a marshall, a traffic cone and a parked car all in the first 10 yards (clearly wearing high-vis, being bright orange, and being a big metal object weren’t sufficient warning signs when I was stood looking at them through the people in front of me on the start line!). The first few moments were spent weaving in and out of a rainbow of different coloured vests, looking for gaps between the camelbaks and Pete Bland bum bags to dart through without clipping any ankles. Words of good luck and encouragement were exchanged with a few familiar faces as we passed each other and the handful of locals cheering us on as we left the village.
After around 200m the road turned to the right and I felt like I was starting to settle into my rightful place in the pack. The leaders were already pulling away from the main field, and was pleased, but not surprised, to see two black and white vests amongst them. As we continued to climb on the narrow country road, above me, clearly visible against the rolling green backdrop, was a maroon vest putting daylight between himself and everyone else. A confident start from the Pudsey & Bramley AC runner on the long opening climb and the confidence was well placed. He was to lead the race all the way to the finish!
A mile in, the road ended at a gate and the tarmac was swapped for a rough gravel track as we crunched between the posts. The change of terrain didn't bring with it much of a change in incline though and the 2 mile uphill warm up entered it’s more undulating second half. In recent years this section of the route has been transformed from rough, strength sapping muddy tyre ruts to something akin to badly laid crazy paving...with tyre ruts. In the normal route direction this change, whilst it detracts from the challenge and ethos of fell running, is a welcome break for tired legs. For the clockwise route it seems to be more of an opportunity for some ill advised fast uphill running in the opening miles of the race!
I had a clear view of the heather clad Hexhamshire common, but below was a ribbon of gravel disappearing into the cloud. The steady string of runners getting fainter as they dissolved one by one into the pure white like the memory of a dream fading through the morning. The lowland completely lost under the blanket. I have seen photographs of inversions before, and a few occasional glimpses in far off valleys while in the car, but to be suddenly standing in the upper wisps of the veil of the valley made my heart leap as I skipped gladly into the unseen. (Strava tells me that I was doing close to 5min/mile pace when two high-vis angels popped into view on the bridge at the bottom, no wonder I was enjoying myself!)
The speed was quickly scrubbed hitting the other side of the valley to start climbing up to the common. The ascent was less direct that the drop into the fog, hidden sheep could be heard loudly discussing the progress of the race; apparently the Yorkshireman had increased his lead. Somewhere a collie was chasing the engine note of his farmers quad bike across the field and back on the road the distant vests had all faded to grey, if not faded completely. For a few hundred meters the road turned parallel to the Burn. On my left the dry stone wall held back the clouds as well as the unseen livestock. Ghostly shapes suggesting looming trees the only clue to anything existing on its lower edge. On my right, a crystal clear view once again of the top of the common and the high point of the race still to come.
As I felt the climbing effort bring colour to my cheeks I could see the colour return to the competitors ahead. The road turned again and the climb renewed its vigor, the woodland now guarding against the cloud. As the road crested we were treated to a last grasp of the cloud top through a break in the trees. At the edge of the track sits a bench, normally overlooking the rolling countryside towards Hexham, today the bench itself was just visible on the precipice of pea soup.
Since dropping into the cloud my race position had been steady, not gaining or losing ground on the misty figures in front of me, but on the rougher terrain this all changed. I felt l was hitting my stride again in the clearer air, picking through the mud was taking my mind off my effort or pace. It was all about having fun. On the way up I took a few places and closed in on a few more. There was even a group of mountain bikers trying to make their way through the foliage..definitely rather be running! Starting the descent I had two runners in sight to chase and all too soon we left the heather and joined a sandy gravel track. Thankfully the race markers soon diverted us back onto another trod and the fun could start again.
After a little more hopping between the track and the heather we hit some more rough cobbles. This stretch was freshly re-laid and what used to be a bumpy, partially flooded slog fest was now mini-boulders too fresh to be properly bedded in. There used to be a puddle across the trail that was almost large enough to appear on the OS map, but alas, it’s days of claiming the dignity of unsuspecting runners and cyclists were over. One last leg burning climb to beat, or be beaten by...the only climb steep enough to reduce everyone to a walk. This late in the race it was mercifully short!
1 mile to go, almost all of it down hill. Time to make the push for the line. Ahead of me Emma must have had the same idea. Unfortunately a 20% slope on tired legs does not make for a strong finish, fast, but not strong. My legs didn't have the gas left to realise the speed I was demanding of them but a quick (risky) glance at my watch still showed a pace starting with 4. Entering the village we were directed across the grass and started up (yes up!) the hill back to the school. It was the sort of hill you only really notice after 10 miles and trashing yourself down a big slope, and notice it I did. It was over quickly and I was soon bent double just past the finish funnel gasping for air. I cheered a few clubmates and friends home then decided it was time for cake!
Over a doorstop sized piece of chocolate cake and a restorative cup of tea I swapped stories with the other runners. It’s one of my favourite times of a race, all the smiling faces, still flushed with the thrill of the run and enjoying the post race exhaustion. Mairi was practically bouncing, Marc and Jevan happy with some top individual performances, Dave had thoroughly enjoyed himself as always and David and Chris were in good spirits but almost ready to bin their new trail shoes (I know they loved it really). Not all the stories were good news however, Russell had lost a sentimental bracelet, and a little blood, when he fell in the last two miles, then lost 2 minutes fruitlessly looking for it, but had enjoyed his run nonetheless. Neal had battled through the lack of sleep to have a solid run. Stories swapped, cake eaten, it was time for the pub where a friend was waiting.
A great day in the North Pennines for one of the highlights of North East running. A huge thank you must go to Brendon and the whole team from Allen Valley Striders for putting on a top event as always!
Registration opened at 9:30am and we were a close second into the car park around 10 minutes early. There were four of us in the car; Andy, the driver, not racing but looking forward to enjoying a walk in the hills; Cath, looking forward to her first experience of the Hobble; Russell, ready for his second ever Fell race; and me. Cath and I had sent of postal entries because we were eager beavers but I hadn’t heard anything back and couldn't see the money from the cheque leaving my account. This along with Russell having only decided to enter three days before, after he checked the weather forecast and that he could get a lift, was why we had arrived in good time. Well, that and the promise of a free gift for the first 250 entrants!
We really had been eager beavers as Cath and I were handed numbers 1 & 2 respectively!
 |
| Most of the TBH crew ready for the off (Spot the two pairs of shiny shoes on the left!) |
This year saw the inclusion of the race in the Tyne Bridge Harriers Presidents Shield. A range of 10 different races are selected at the start of the year and members earn points based on their performance at each race with the best 6 counting for the total. The top three in the standings had all turned out for the last race on the roster (Dave, David and Chris), two of them clutching identical shiny new trail shoes! Also donning the black and white vest were Marc and Jevan, both new to fell running but looking to translate fast road times into the hills, Mairi, continuing to expand her enjoyment of cross country and Neal, fresh from manning a checkpoint on Northumberland's highest peak most of the night for an ultra and rescuing a runner from hypothermia!
It wasn't just TBH with a good turn out however. Before long the school sports hall was buzzing with chatter and excitement. All the usual suspects had good representation: Northumberland Fell Runners; Durham Fell Runners; Low Fell; and North Shields Poly and a good mix of other clubs from the north east along with visitors from Pudsey & Bramley, Eden, and Ilford to name just a few.
The weather over the previous weeks had been wet with an extra dash of soggy so everyone was expecting a mud bath to rival a top class spa weekend by the time we got onto the moorland. The difficulty was the temperature. The morning had broken cold but the low lying cloud and still air had taken the edge off. Around the room the kit choice ranged from full body winter cover to vest and shorts. Whilst we chatted and joked waiting for the 11am race briefing I decided to go for shorts with a t-shirt under my vest. This meant a quick flash for my teammates as I took off my vest to put the shirt on underneath. The temperature wasn’t too cold in the village but that was likely to be a different story out on the course. 10 minutes later it was time to flash again, habit had won over, I always prefer to race in just a vest and shorts unless it’s clearly a bad idea, and I wasn't going to be out done by David and Chris!
After a signature entertaining and informative briefing from race director Brendon we left the comfort of the sports hall, past the endless table of delicious cakes (rewards are earned not given on the fells!) and out into the fresh air. As this was the 25th anniversary the race route was reversed with the opening 20% gradient swapped for a gentler but still uphill 2 mile drag. We gathered on Shilburn road next to the start flag, over 200 strong, waiting for the hooter. After the last few stragglers joined the throng, Brendon stood on the dry stone wall, and with the final announcements swiftly run through, set us away!
As always I had started too far back and on this occasion too far left as well, I had to dodge quickly towards the middle of the road to avoid a marshall, a traffic cone and a parked car all in the first 10 yards (clearly wearing high-vis, being bright orange, and being a big metal object weren’t sufficient warning signs when I was stood looking at them through the people in front of me on the start line!). The first few moments were spent weaving in and out of a rainbow of different coloured vests, looking for gaps between the camelbaks and Pete Bland bum bags to dart through without clipping any ankles. Words of good luck and encouragement were exchanged with a few familiar faces as we passed each other and the handful of locals cheering us on as we left the village.
After around 200m the road turned to the right and I felt like I was starting to settle into my rightful place in the pack. The leaders were already pulling away from the main field, and was pleased, but not surprised, to see two black and white vests amongst them. As we continued to climb on the narrow country road, above me, clearly visible against the rolling green backdrop, was a maroon vest putting daylight between himself and everyone else. A confident start from the Pudsey & Bramley AC runner on the long opening climb and the confidence was well placed. He was to lead the race all the way to the finish!
A mile in, the road ended at a gate and the tarmac was swapped for a rough gravel track as we crunched between the posts. The change of terrain didn't bring with it much of a change in incline though and the 2 mile uphill warm up entered it’s more undulating second half. In recent years this section of the route has been transformed from rough, strength sapping muddy tyre ruts to something akin to badly laid crazy paving...with tyre ruts. In the normal route direction this change, whilst it detracts from the challenge and ethos of fell running, is a welcome break for tired legs. For the clockwise route it seems to be more of an opportunity for some ill advised fast uphill running in the opening miles of the race!
Skimming the Tops of the Clouds
The first section of level running was also the first, and certainly not the last, chance to get wet feet. A taste of what was to come as the cobbles ended, the muddy tyre ruts returning briefly before the first big descent. I thanked the marshall manning the gate at the top, tuned down the hill, and lost my breath!I had a clear view of the heather clad Hexhamshire common, but below was a ribbon of gravel disappearing into the cloud. The steady string of runners getting fainter as they dissolved one by one into the pure white like the memory of a dream fading through the morning. The lowland completely lost under the blanket. I have seen photographs of inversions before, and a few occasional glimpses in far off valleys while in the car, but to be suddenly standing in the upper wisps of the veil of the valley made my heart leap as I skipped gladly into the unseen. (Strava tells me that I was doing close to 5min/mile pace when two high-vis angels popped into view on the bridge at the bottom, no wonder I was enjoying myself!)
The speed was quickly scrubbed hitting the other side of the valley to start climbing up to the common. The ascent was less direct that the drop into the fog, hidden sheep could be heard loudly discussing the progress of the race; apparently the Yorkshireman had increased his lead. Somewhere a collie was chasing the engine note of his farmers quad bike across the field and back on the road the distant vests had all faded to grey, if not faded completely. For a few hundred meters the road turned parallel to the Burn. On my left the dry stone wall held back the clouds as well as the unseen livestock. Ghostly shapes suggesting looming trees the only clue to anything existing on its lower edge. On my right, a crystal clear view once again of the top of the common and the high point of the race still to come.
As I felt the climbing effort bring colour to my cheeks I could see the colour return to the competitors ahead. The road turned again and the climb renewed its vigor, the woodland now guarding against the cloud. As the road crested we were treated to a last grasp of the cloud top through a break in the trees. At the edge of the track sits a bench, normally overlooking the rolling countryside towards Hexham, today the bench itself was just visible on the precipice of pea soup.
Fun with Heather
Encouraged by the marshall on the corner, I was directed off the road and into the heather. A narrow trod through the dense shrubbery, formed from countless feet, tyres, and downpours, splintering and rejoining as new routes around the rocks and puddles have been created. This stretch is one long climb, watching for foot placement amongst the stones and potholes. At times the gap through the purple heather so narrow and deep that you have to trust in your ankles that if there is a hidden rock you can clear it without incident. Concentration is important, with the halfway point approaching and most of the climbing done it would have been easy to lose focus. Especially with a view to enjoy from above the cloud...OUCH! Where did that stone come from? Good job heather makes for a spongy landing!Since dropping into the cloud my race position had been steady, not gaining or losing ground on the misty figures in front of me, but on the rougher terrain this all changed. I felt l was hitting my stride again in the clearer air, picking through the mud was taking my mind off my effort or pace. It was all about having fun. On the way up I took a few places and closed in on a few more. There was even a group of mountain bikers trying to make their way through the foliage..definitely rather be running! Starting the descent I had two runners in sight to chase and all too soon we left the heather and joined a sandy gravel track. Thankfully the race markers soon diverted us back onto another trod and the fun could start again.
After a little more hopping between the track and the heather we hit some more rough cobbles. This stretch was freshly re-laid and what used to be a bumpy, partially flooded slog fest was now mini-boulders too fresh to be properly bedded in. There used to be a puddle across the trail that was almost large enough to appear on the OS map, but alas, it’s days of claiming the dignity of unsuspecting runners and cyclists were over. One last leg burning climb to beat, or be beaten by...the only climb steep enough to reduce everyone to a walk. This late in the race it was mercifully short!
Somewhere over the Rainbow
From here it was all downhill, almost a mirror of the starting terrain, a mile along fun and fast tyre ruts, with one last hurrah of a big puddle, then through a gate onto another gravel track with some welcome support from some friendly faces. I was still trying to close on Morpeth's Emma Holt, having been trying to chase her down since the top of the common. When the marshalls cheered us onto the road the clouds had one last word. Turning to face Allendale a rainbow arched across the sky. A volunteer had told me a few miles back I was in 23rd but that didn't mean I couldn’t still push for the pot of gold!1 mile to go, almost all of it down hill. Time to make the push for the line. Ahead of me Emma must have had the same idea. Unfortunately a 20% slope on tired legs does not make for a strong finish, fast, but not strong. My legs didn't have the gas left to realise the speed I was demanding of them but a quick (risky) glance at my watch still showed a pace starting with 4. Entering the village we were directed across the grass and started up (yes up!) the hill back to the school. It was the sort of hill you only really notice after 10 miles and trashing yourself down a big slope, and notice it I did. It was over quickly and I was soon bent double just past the finish funnel gasping for air. I cheered a few clubmates and friends home then decided it was time for cake!
 |
| Elevation plot taken from Strava, it almost does the steepness of the descents justice! |
Over a doorstop sized piece of chocolate cake and a restorative cup of tea I swapped stories with the other runners. It’s one of my favourite times of a race, all the smiling faces, still flushed with the thrill of the run and enjoying the post race exhaustion. Mairi was practically bouncing, Marc and Jevan happy with some top individual performances, Dave had thoroughly enjoyed himself as always and David and Chris were in good spirits but almost ready to bin their new trail shoes (I know they loved it really). Not all the stories were good news however, Russell had lost a sentimental bracelet, and a little blood, when he fell in the last two miles, then lost 2 minutes fruitlessly looking for it, but had enjoyed his run nonetheless. Neal had battled through the lack of sleep to have a solid run. Stories swapped, cake eaten, it was time for the pub where a friend was waiting.
Good New Comes in Pubs
Catching up with fellow clubmate and Allendale resident (“fresh” from victory at the previous week’s Hardwolds 80) over a pint in the Golden Lion was a great way to round of one of the best days of running I have had. I was delighted to run almost 9 minutes quicker than the previous year, albeit on a reversed route, and crossed the line in 21st. Having stayed for the post race presentation most of the TBH crew started to arrive and brought with them a string of good news. Russell had been reunited with his bracelet after another runner had picked it up (it had even been cleaned), Marc had collected the prize for 3rd and Jevan’s debut fell race finish in 5th had set us up for the senior men’s team prize, me and Dave finishing 3rd and 4th counters. My first ever team prize! |
| Post race kit pic including the free gift. The cleanliness of the vest and shoes really doesn't do the race justice! |
Thanks Matt for a fantastic report (& cartoon) and a terrific reminder of a great day out.
ReplyDeleteHopefully there'll be plenty more team prizes for you & TBH in the future.