Montane Spine Challenger North 2025 - race report
Tis the season to watch dots! Whether you’re a competitor on the start line, or a seasoned ‘dot watcher’ January is always the silly season for Spine Race fans (June also nowadays). As the last few hardy souls make their way towards the end of their epic challenges, I’m feet up and recovering from all the training and the race itself. My adventure was cut short sadly once I arrived at Alston, some 75 miles into the event. Another feckin DNF and my second on this event in particular. But as I’m writing, I feel at ease with my attempt and I did all I could to get ready and the race plan was going well.
Manky feet and comfy socks
As you will be aware if you have read my previous blog covering my adventures in Austria, I managed to finish the epic event but my feet were trashed, think trench foot on steroids! I’ll spare you any images but the sight of them even made me feel nauseous. The skin on both soles basically peeled off…
Anyway, once I’d fully recovered I began training, nothing structured, just getting back into some sort of routine. I started planning some reccie days on the northern section of the Pennine Way which the Challenger North route uses. I already had most of the kit I’d need for the event, but I was determined to get the issue with my feet sorted, I couldn’t go through the pain of macerated feet again. I bought a copy of ‘fixing your feet’ and got some tips on things to try. I’d also noticed some waterproof socks being advertised on the usual channels, they had really good reviews so I had to buy a pair and was looking forward to taking them on a test run on the local sections of the Pennine Way. They worked a treat and were actually waterproof! Well done to Hemy Socks, give them a go. I bought a further two pairs. I thought that wearing a thin liner sock and those on top would be perfect. One major issue sorted. On some following training sessions, I put the socks through their paces and the results were good. I even poured talc into the liner socks to help keep my feet dry. Finishing off the foot kit, I bought a pair of Scarpa Spin ST shoes after a recommendation from the wise Owl Mr Tim Pigott. Those of you that aren’t up to speed, Tim is a good friend and a splendid coach, one I can highly recommend. The shoes were spot on, great grip in the muddy stuff and comfy. So, training went well for the next few months. The usual mix of running, cycling (zwift) and lots of gym work to strengthen the legs.
Herriot Way and the banging door!
I also managed to go out training with a few mates, we covered the Herriot Way in the Yorkshire Dales during one weekend. It’s a 50 ish mile loop course which takes in a section of the Pennine Way so it was perfect. Setting off on our adventure, the weather was decent but soon deteriorated into mist and drizzle. Good opportunity to test the kit, especially the sock set up. We were moving well though so the miles ticked by and it was soon dark. We’d planned to stop in a bothy for a few hours to rest and get a brew etc. Another good chance to test out kit, especially the sleeping bag. As the night wore on, the weather got worse. The wind began to pick up which made the drizzle come sideways. The planned bothy stop was still a few miles away, but we had to just plod along. Eventually, we noticed a building appearing out of the murk and I thought, balls to this, let’s give the door a try..it creaked open and i was relieved to see it was a bothy, not the one we’d planned but sod that, we’re staying here for a bit! We got comfy, made some brews and hot meals and then got our heads down for a couple of hours while the wind and rain battered the wooden door as if trying to get in…indeed, the door wasn’t locked properly and just when I was nodding off, the feckin thing flew open with a bang! There were some loud expletives, someone found the episode hilarious, which spread around the room and we all started giggling.
After about three hours, we got our stuff together as sleeping was out of the window now. It was still dark but the wind had eased and was no longer trying to get in the bothy. Some fresh layers on, a good feed and some rest, we headed out into the murk. We only had about 20 miles left so we’d soon be done and back to the cars in time for brekkie. Heading home in the car, I had to stop for some brekkie and a quick nap as I could feel my eyes closing. Not ideal for driving!
The final few weeks of training went well, I felt fit and I was happy with my kit choices and I got one or two final bits from Father Christmas. I was ready for the race. Heck, I didn’t even feel the urge to faff with my kit arrangement in the final week before the race…well, just a bit.
IKEA bag and race registration
As ever, the day before was kit check and registration time. I was staying at the pub overnight that was the venue for registration so that saved me some stress and faff. Walking over to the checking tables, I hoisted my trusty Ikea bag onto the table and basically said check what you want. There were the usual people milling about and kit strewn all about the place. Lindley was there, fielding the usual daft questions regarding the kit and helping out where he could. The event volunteers did a good job though of getting us through the process and I had my mug shot taken with my race number after making sure my hair was tidy etc…standards my dear 👌
After that, I checked into my rather plush room with a comfy bed, a rather large TV and my own personal Cafeteria, I was glad to dump all the kit I’d been lugging around. I assembled my race pack, as above (rather neat eh) and decided to chill out for the rest of the day. Dinner was booked for 18:00, I’d have that and get an early night. I knew it was gonna be a long night because I knew full well I’d hardly get any sleep. I was also a bit miffed when I realised I wouldn’t be around for breakfast as the race would have started before then. I made sure I had the appropriate scowl on my face to display my disappointment.
Once more unto the breech!
My alarm sounded the next morning but I was already awake as expected. I looked out of the window and it was still dark but I could see the snow still lying on the ground. Packing everything up, I went downstairs to have my race tracker fitted and then waited for the race start. On the way to the line, I decided to start pissing about attempting to attach my Yaktrax ice spike thingies to my shoes, turned out to be a good decision. The chap began the countdown from ten, then we were off. However, some nob behind me stood on my feckin trekking poles causing me to drop one of them. Narrowly avoiding being trampled, I retrieved said pole and got back to the front of the pack. A great feckin start I thought!
Immediately from the start was one of the longest and steepest climbs on the whole course, Shunner Fell. No time to ease into the pace with a runnable flat section, I quickly settled into a fast hike using my trekking poles. I noticed I was right at the front of the runners, but I was moving well, not pushing, so I continued at the pace. The conditions quickly deteriorated, we reached the snow line on the hill and the path was icy, thanks to the Yaktrax I could continue without slipping. Further up the path, we hit the lying snow proper which made me adjust my pace as it was pointless pushing hard up the first hill through snow drifts. I settled into the front pack of runners letting the first few cut the trail through the snow. Let them do all the hard work I thought. Part of my race plan had swung into action very quickly. It was hard work going onwards up and over the summit of Shunner Fell. The wind was blowing and it was effing freezing! I was keen to get off the summit and descend the other side, but the going was still tough wading through the snowdrifts and I knew that a decent pace was out of the window, this was gonna be a tough couple of days, very energy sapping. Thanks feck I wasn’t doing the full Spine Race!
We had some relief from the snowdrifts once we descended into Thwaite, but it didn’t last long as we were soon climbing again and heading up to the first intermediate checkpoint of Tan Hill, that famous pub in the middle of nowhere. No time to stop to avail myself of the hospitality sadly. I pressed on past the checkpoint and headed into the looooong boggy moor of doom and despair that lay behind the pub where the next section of the Pennine Way meandered. I knew full well what I was in for on this section as I’d crossed it a couple of times. It was indeed hard going in the combination of bog and snow, we passed a warning sign that warned of ‘deep mud, keep right’ if I fell in there then it would surely be race over..
Eventually, we reached firmer ground in the form of a track and I was able to get into something of a running rhythm however, my legs were already feeling the hard going, so I decided to ease off the pace and get something to eat from my race pack. The group of runners I was with were thinning out now and I was alone once or twice, but that’s normal and I’m happy in my own company during these things so I trotted on and settled down. After a couple more hours, ish, I reached the Oasis that is Clove Lodge which is a pop up checkpoint, hosted by a very nice and generous couple of Ladies that greeted us with brew facilities and a buffet of goodies. I was also pleased to see the large black Cat that lives in the barn. He’s very friendly! I could have stayed there for a long time, but this was a race after all, so saying my goodbyes I trotted off while drinking my lovely cup of hot tea, determined not to spill any as I moved along. I was in high spirits after that brief stop, so I pushed on as the daylight began to fade. I’d like to make it to Middleton in Teesdale before it got dark, but I didn’t rush and we’ll what happens I thought. Another boost was the fact that the snowdrifts had gone and there was scope to do a bit of running here and there however, a new problem began to arise. The snow was turning into cold slush which after a while, began to make my feet feel cold. At a road crossing, I arrived at another pop up checkpoint where a very friendly couple had another hot drink and buffet set up. Fantastic I thought, I found it amazing that there were people out there who were prepared to do this for us and I’d like to make sure that if they are reading this, then thank you once again, what you do is really appreciated by all us lunatics who do these daft races! After a mince pie and another drink, I headed up the final hill before the long decent into Middleton. It had got dark on the way up, so the head torch came out as I summited the hill and jogged down the other side trying not to slip in the slush. Reaching the road at the bottom, I ate something else and turned off the road where the Pennine Way turns off just before the bridge. I knew the next section well and hoped that it was gonna be runnable as it was in a valley and out of the worst conditions higher up the hillsides. The first major checkpoint of Langdon Beck wasn’t too far away and I was looking forward to a change of clothing and some fresh socks, my feet were becoming numb from the cold snow and slush which was rather worrying. A case of frostbite was not a pleasant thought, I became very keen to arrive at the checkpoint. Eventually, I reached the short diversion along a track which lead to the checkpoint and I was greeted by the fabulous checkpoint volunteers, one of which guided me to my drop bag and a seat in the warm building where I could regroup. I was feeling good generally, but my legs and feet were feeling the efforts of the day.
Sitting down, I did a Jonny Ulett and removed the contents of my drop bag and deposited them around my feet in order to stare at the items for a sec. I scanned the room and others were busy stuffing their faces or pissin about with their kit. The room smelt funny.. I noticed Nicky Spinks tucked into a corner and looking calm and professional and Eugeni Rosello Sole shovelling a plate of food in his gob. He got up out of his seat and was limping, must be in a bad way I thought. It made me notice that my feet were still numb from the snow and freezing water on the route. I rubbed them both in some vain attempt in warming them up. Switch on Andy and stop wasting time I said to myself, I hurried to change my tops and socks while stuffing my face in the process. How’s that for multi tasking eh! After re packing my drop bag, eating and having a brew, I stood up, went to have a kit check, then headed out into the dark to take on the next section, Langdon to Dufton via the rather impressive High Cup Nick.
Where the eff is Nick!
There was a short diversion in place after the checkpoint as it was deemed too dangerous to use the usual route along the boulder field and up the side of Cauldron Snout, I was glad to be honest as that section can be dodgy at the best of times. I knew this next section pretty well, good job because it was dark, cold, the ground was boggy and full of melting snow so the off track sections were difficult to navigate, only helped by the footprints of other racers that had gone before. Not a totally foolproof way of correct navigation. I was quite pleased however when I caught up to a couple of other runners and thought it might be prudent to continue in a small group, safety in numbers and all that. As we progressed, the weather got worse and the wind picked up, I took this as a sign that we were getting close to High Cup and it’s exposed cliff ledges. A blanket of mist came down and covered us, making direction finding more…interesting! Eventually, we reached the small rectangular stone cairn that signifies the area of High Cup and I knew we had to bear right but I couldn’t see a feckin thing in the dark and mist. The light from my head torch wasn’t really helping as the mist was simply reflecting the light. It was quite treacherous moving along the cliff ledges around the crater that made the area what it was. Basically a huge gouge in the landscape, carved out during the last ice age apparently. The actual path wasn’t visible as a safe guide, so we had to keep our wits about us and not drift towards the cliff ledge. I knew the ledge was nearby though as the wind was howling by this point and giving us a bit of a battering, it was coming straight up the valley and was concentrated at the top.
High Cup Nick in clearer conditions
Skirting around the valley, we began the long descent towards the village of Dufton and some relief from the conditions ‘proper Spine weather’ I thought. We caught up to another racer and I realised it was Ian, a friend of mine. He’d suffered a fall earlier apparently and was not moving very well. We all had a quick chat and moved on. Reaching the bottom of the track in a loose group, we headed into Dufton and the next intermediate checkpoint. We had a maximum of thirty minutes at this stop, so I quickly sat down and took my shoes n socks off to inspect and defrost my feet yet again. They were still worryingly numb but on the plus side, no maceration of the soles. The sock combo was working in that respect. I just hadn’t anticipated the possibility of running through bog and frozen snow/slush for nearly twenty hours. I accepted a brew from the marshals, but could only manage a few crisps at this point, owing to the fact it was around midnight and my mind was saying ‘you’re usually in bed by now you plank’. The thirty minutes went quick and Ian seemed to be in some discomfort so he stopped for a bit of extra time after consultation with the checkpoint staff. I got my stuff together, said my goodbyes and headed out into the darkness once again. This time it was to tackle the highest point on the course, Cross Fell.
Thank heavens for Greg’s!
Heading onto the track that is the start of the loooong climb up towards the Cross Fell ridge, I caught up with the two lads I’d been running with earlier and once again, decided to stick with them. I was warm at the early part of the climb, but as we climbed, I got colder and the weather once again began to turn for the worse and it was still gonna be dark for a few more hours. It was a three mile ish climb up towards the first summit cairn and I had to batten down the hatches as I progressed. By the time we’d reach the first summit, I had my layers on, my coat zipped up, hood up, woollen hat and waterproof gloves on. The weather once again began the top was awful, sideways rain, strong winds and freezing cold and low cloud/fog. The weather forecast for Cross Fell that I checked earlier was way out. I was dreading actually summiting Cross Fell itself. I knew it was going to be horrendous. I was fully aware that this was a winter ultramarathon and to expect shite weather, but this had to be some of the worst weather conditions I’ve experienced and I was not really expecting it after checking the mountain weather forecast earlier. But, no excuses, I’m just conveying my experience. I was relieved to run along the lee side of the hill along Great Dun Fell and the giant golf ball thingy which is part of the air traffic control system for the area. The lull didn’t last and we were back into the elements between Dun Fell and Cross Fell. The weather got even worse, I began to feel cold and I was actually getting a bit nervous, something that has only happened once before during all the events and adventures I’ve been on. Thank god I was running in a group, if I was on my own up there and something serious happened, it could be very nasty. I was carrying my emergency layers, sleeping bag and bivvy bag, but I still dread to think what might have happened. We all moved along at pace, probably all thinking the same things, but very mindful and cautious of the frozen and icy paths and bogs. I was very pleased to begin descending as I knew we’d be out of the worst weather and into the shelter of Greg’s Hut and the famous Chilli Noodles. I will not forget the last few miles for a long time. Thank heavens for Gregs!
Cracking the door open into Gregs Hut, I was hit with the warm air inside. I immediately felt better, took my jacket off to dry and went through to the main room. It was rather busy with some other runners sat on the bench thingy, scoffing noodles. The legendary John Bamber busy over the gas stove preparing his famous chilli noodles and hot water for brews. I ordered a serving, a hot chocolate and sat down. I began shivering, probably due to the last couple of miles and then sitting down. There were some foil blankets available, so I wrapped myself up in one while I ate and drank my brew. The shivering wouldn’t stop and I realised I would have to stop for a bit longer than planned until it subsided. After a while, I took the foil blanket off and a cloud of steam escaped from beneath the tin foil burrito that I now looked like. The shivering stopped, eventually, and I decided that it was time to get moving again. My legs were seizing up and my feet were sore, but actually defrosting. Small victories! After some discussion with one of the SST regarding my layers and keeping safe, I put my extra fleece layer on under my jacket and immediately felt warm and cosy.
It’s all downhill from here..
I was quite pleased to find that the rain and wind had dropped outside to a more comfortable level. There was still some ice and snow on the ground but the track was more exposed and I could begin jogging, I noticed the signs of first light was appearing on the horizon to my right. I was running along with Ian again at this point. We ran together down towards Garrgill along the rather mundane track that goes on for around six miles. Occasionally chatting, but we were both a bit knackered by this point and were looking forward to reaching Alston where we could rest. My original plan was to possibly make it to Bellingham before stopping for an extended period, that was a tad ambitious given the conditions!
On the final steep decent into Garrgill, I noticed my legs were seizing and a pain developing in my foot, just below my right ankle. I wasn’t too worried at this point as we were not far from Alston now. By now, the sun was well rising and it looked like it was going to be a good day. That lifted the spirits for the prospect of the second day, I had checked the general forecast and it did say that the weather would improve during the course of the week. The next section to Alston seemed to takes ages, it was only four miles but we both were reduced to a walk, I noticed I was limping slightly. It was alarming how quickly my physical state and pace reduced in that time. I had to pull my legs up with my hands to climb over the tops of fence Stiles..it was very frustrating to find myself in this position. I was ‘only’ at the seventy five ish mile mark, something that I’ve experienced many times during events. But very rarely felt this bad. I just focused on reaching Alston and then I could have a good rest. Don’t panic I thought, you’ll feel better after a few hours rest and hopefully a bit of sleep. I had plenty of time in the bank in terms of cut off’s etc. On the final bit before the checkpoint, I had a chat with a member of the media team who was filming the racers. I even made it onto the media posts on the event updates! I actually didn’t look too bad and wasn’t talking cobblers (no comments please)! Shuffling up the steps aided by the CP staff, I entered Alston CP, sat down and took my shoes off before finding my drop bag and seat at a table to begin more kit faffing. Yep, I was a bit disheveled but that was to be expected. I was gonna give myself a good few hours here and then push on, still focused on finishing the event this time.
After some kit faffing and two helpings of Lasagne (an Alston CP delicacy), I thought, let’s go and have a shower and some sleep. As soon as I stood up my legs froze and there was a very sharp pain in my right ankle where I’d noticed it earlier. Only this time, the pain was awful. I was getting worried and shuffled over to the stairs which led to the bunks and showers. The CP staff looked concerned and offered me some help. It took me a while to ascend the stairs, I had to take each step very slowly, oh shite I thought! After a shower, I shuffled to a bunk to try and sleep. Once I’d lay down, the pain in my ankle got worse, it was excruciating. I tried to relax, but the pain was terrible and that was it, I decided to stop there and then. My race was over. I messaged my wife that I was in trouble, once again, and I wanted her to come and get me. In the interim, I managed to fall asleep with my ankle throbbing with pain. After a while, I woke and managed to see a couple of medics in the CP after handing my GPS tracker to the nearest CP staff to confirm my race was at an end.
After some inspection, it was determined that I’d done some ligament damage in my foot, but fortunately no breaks. My wife soon arrived not long after to collect the wounded soldier (she actually said some rather more disparaging once she saw me)! I was pleased to see her, said my goodbyes, collected my kit and shuffled off to the waiting car. Did I DNF too soon? Nope, I couldn’t walk and I was happy with the decision. It is rather frustrating to have once again put a shed load of training in preparation only to have pulled out though injury..again, but it happens to even the best of us. Just look at Kim Collison for example and his efforts to achieve great things on the Winter Spine Race. I wish I could smile as much as him on these effing stupid events!
Back down to earth
In the immediate few days post the event, I was still sore but happy with my decision to stop. But then it began to hit me again. A wave of post race blues, as some of you know, I suffer from depression so that only served to concentrate the wave. The term ‘wave’ is very appropriate for how you feel in bouts of depression, the waves come out of nowhere and some are larger than others and the big ones hurt. Leaving you feeling empty and welling up. I have learned however that talking about it helps, I still need to work on that aspect but I find that writing things down assists with calming my mind.
Fortunately, my wife is very understanding (she needs to be to be with me) and I’m always very grateful when she rescues me when things haven’t gone to plan. To make amends, I took her out for a nice meal and I even paid!! How’s that for gratitude. She found it highly amusing by the way when I had to crawl on hands and knees to the kitchen, in order to make a brew! It was simply quicker to crawl than attempt to walk. I’ll not discuss climbing Everest that was the stairs, but I’m sure you’ll form a picture for yourself.
Where do I go from here? Well, I’m having a good break from structured running, my ankle is ensuring that. I’m turning my main focus to getting ready for a cycling trip to Calpe in Spain, this coming April. I do actually enjoy a bit of cycling and ‘Zwifting’ can be very addictive. After that, I’ll be doing my Mountain Leader training course and then, getting ready proper for my next big race, the Swiss Peaks 100k in September. I didn’t get a place in the UTMB CCC, but balls to them! I’ll do something else. I’m really looking forward to getting back out in the Mountains, sounds cheesy, but I do feel at home there. Very therapeutic. As for the Winter Spine Races, that’s it, I’ve had enough. Race wise, I’m only entering Summer events and there’s not that many that tickle my fancy these days…..
Kit list
For those that are interested, below is the kit and nutrition I used (apart from the mandatory kit).Shoes - Scarpa Spin ST, very good shoe for muddy fell and trail running.
Jacket - Inov8 Stormshell, good jacket that served me well.
Gloves - Montane
Leggings - Montane
Race pack - Montane Gecko, brilliant bit of kit that had lots of room and my go to pack.
Socks - Hemy waterproof socks with a liner, good choice apart from frozen feet!
Trekking poles - Black Diamond, trusty.
My usual Mountain Fuel gels and powders, been using them for years, the muts nuts!
Supernatural Fuel food pouches, great taste and easy to get down when you can’t be arsed eating!
Voom Nutrition pocket rockets, energy bars that really give you a kick (work very well for Mark Derbyshire too).
Hula Hoops - perfect long distance running companion, beef or ready salted 👌
Yaktrax ice/snow traction aids, worked well until I snagged and broke one of them while climbing over a fence….tit!
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