Monday 16 March 2015

Don't get lost, get Recced!

The advantage of major races being held nearby to where you live is the sought-after 'local knowledge' which the Fellrunners Association list as desirable in some of the races run under their aegis. The getting of local knowledge comes from the Recce Run, where runners take a morning, afternoon or weekend to familiarise themselves with the race route, its challenges and most of all the optimal lines to take to shave off precious miles, minutes or metres of ascent.

When I first joined Glossopdale Harriers I remember overhearing recces being planned, thinking how dedicated and hardcore the runners were, to be going out (often in winter) to ensure a good performance on the day. Of course, Winter is a time when you don't want to be spending unnecessary time out in a side-wind, falling into freezing bogs or skittering down the wrong hill. So it came to pass that I've found myself on a number of recce trips this winter, firstly for the Trigger race and the fabled Christmas-tree Time Portal across the peaty wastes of the Kinder Plateau, and more lately for the Edale Skyline, a local classic Long race and one where you hear there are great gains to be made by learning some shortcuts.
finding some saucepans at Bleaklow Head whilst recceing the Trigger

This Saturday the Babes (and honorary Babe Mr Stephenson) took a trip to Edale to check the lines on the second half of the race route. The party consisted of Sue, Jude, John, Alison, Milo the dog and myself - we set off up towards Mam Nick with 'raceshy' Sue setting a cracking pace. On reaching the ridge at Rushup we realised that Spring had not yet reached the higher contours of the area and made onwards with caution to the icy puddles. On reaching the path to Brown Knoll we fell into chatter, marvelling at a line of perfect icicles along the side of a peat grough. Having lost a clear path on the ground we reached the crest of a small raise to find we were a bit far off to the right of our goal, the trig point of Brown Knoll. Running over to regain the path we then dicsovered that we'd managed to inadvertently avoid all the Bogs of Doom this hill is famous for. So we found a new, potentially time-saving line by accident! However with nothing to compare it with, it may not get followed come race day.

After suffering some icy winds on the way up towards Pym Chair we had a short break to don jackets and refuel on Pork Pies and butties (mandatory fellrunner foods) On continuing we spied a familiar shorts-wearing figure heading towards us. It was none other than Bob Graham and Cuillin Ridge completer and all-round Glossopdale powerhouse Alasdair Cowell, out for a Saturday jaunt. I grew dizzy and tired just hearing where he'd been and we packed him off on his way in the hopes he'd soon sit down and have a nice cup of tea.

Here is where I must pull over the veil of secrecy in case any Calder Valley runners are reading...we approached Pym Chair and *poof* like magic, ten minutes later, we reappeared on the edge path just near Crowden Brook. Suffice to say we found the line we meant to find, to avoid further Bog of Doom territory at the Woolpacks. Jude then started saying something about going down and up. I though she was crazy till I remembered her pedigree (not Milo's, hers!) so the group split with Jude, Milo and I on an intrepid mission to learn whether dropping down into the valley of Grindsbrook Clough and then climbing steeply back up we could reach the final checkpoint at Ringing Roger before the others.

Jude, Milo and I had tremendous fun, taking a very off-piste line down to the brook, crossing over and then spying another runner with a dog descending through the woods a bit further along, We hurried to the bridge to meet him, keen to know whether he too was practising his lines for race day. He was, and his advice was that it was a good line though only for the hardy climbers as, once the checkpoint is reached, you might be short on 'zing' for the foot-busting descent on a stony track to the finish. We followed him up , scrambling up a stream then popping out on the stony track only to see Alison waving at us from the top. Decision made - stay on the edge path and save our legs for descending.

Descend we did, and over to the Penny Pot cafe for tea, cakes and discussion. No down-and-up, and if we can actually remember where we went - John pointed out that we had gone over a bit of hill called Horsehill Tor - we'll likely take that line on race day. A fun day out both for those intending to race, those not bothered by the race but loving the run, and Milo, who's not allowed to race as he can't pin a number to his chest.

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