*The Northern Traverse – a 300km ultra following Wainwright’s coast to coast route from St Bees to Robin Hood’s Bay. The event has a strong adventurous ethos and culture of self-sufficiency.
As I stood on the start-line in St Bees I wasn’t sure what the next 4-5 days would hold, but I was immensely grateful to be there – but this isn’t where the story begins. Roll back a few years.
Dave and I entered it in 2021 and it pleased both of us as the route is a logical progression through the Lakes from North to South, through Ambleside (Home turf) – initially designed by James Thurlow of open-tracking; and at this time still run by him. It gave me a taste for longer events with mountainous terrain and a degree of self-sufficiency, but the security of being tracked and regular support points. This still lives on in memory as a favourite event.
Ourea
Dave had volunteered with Ourea events to support on Dragon’s Back and Cape Wrath Ultra. He had used some of his race credits and encouraged me to join him on Great Lakeland 3 Days (GL3D) in 2022, an event that facilitated runners to ‘build their own adventure’, I liked the ethos and it was an event that was women friendly and was trying to mitigate its carbon footprint. Loose alliances were made and some long-distance running friendships endured.
As a female runner there is a constant balance to be struck, between personal safety and acceptable risk. Personally, like many women I would rather choose ‘the bear’ and in my day-to-day running this is one of the reasons I prefer trails to roads – no fox has ever cat-called, and trail runners look out for each other.
After GL3D I felt confident enough in my navigation and mountain skills to take the next step and entered the Lakes Traverse, which crosses the lakes from West to East, this happened to be in ‘Storm Kathleen’ and the song that kept looping through my head was ‘Joleen’ by Dolly Parton. Some lessons were learnt – don’t take a membrane running jacket to a named storm… despite it being rated to 20,000HH it had developed micro holes that the rain pretty much poured through, I arrived at Patterdale and promptly put on every layer I had, by the time I reached Shap I had properly reached the limit of my endurance – no way would I have made it across the rest of the country.
Dave then had his Cape Wrath Ultra adventure – which appealed, but the dates don’t work for me and then the iconic Dragon’s Back Race – which I don’t have the speed to complete. The Northern Traverse seemed a more achievable challenge, started in home turf of the Lakes and crossed through to Yorkshire, past where I went to school and did most of my D of E expeditions.
Northern Traverse – Getting to the start Line
Having helped at a GL3D event I had some race credits towards the entry, so on Friday 15th of August I went all in and entered the Northern Traverse. Parkrun on 16th August and something went ‘ping’ in my calf, and I could only walk the last km. Training delayed! Was it race over before it began? Over the next two weeks I did some gentle heel raises and booked gait analysis and physio with the wonderful duo of Katie and Sophie, and after taking their advice was able to progress with increasing my distance.
I won’t bore you with a full breakdown of training, but most weekends were then taken up with back to back long runs/hikes, until I realised that working in Bristol gave me the ideal opportunity to do a day’s work then after a relatively early finish a mere 24 mile trot home to finish around midnight, long run the next day and a Sunday off! Wish I’d thought to do this much earlier in the training plan!
As training was going well, half term gave me the opportunity to recce some parts of the route, touch base with a school friend Jo in Richmond, who said she’d come and cheer me on my way as I passed through, along with Charlotte – another friend who lives in York and set up my ‘midlife crisis support group’. Everything is holding up, I do 26+ miles regularly and feel able to go on… everything is going to plan. I’d promised to be tail runner for Imber Ultra at the start of March – the last long run before tapering starts.
I ‘confess’ to my up-coming adventure at work, confident I will be on the start-line and we start the fund-raising process, flyers with QR codes printed to support the associated charity… tracking details, still no Ourea updates, but time yet. After an unpromising start with my injury it looks like the gods are smiling on me.
Not on Friday 13th, as it happens – but Thursday 12th March chatting to my final two students of the week and a message pings through from Dave at 5:07pm ‘Ourea events ceased trading’…initially complete shock. Whilst keeping my best poker face by 5:20pm another text from Dave – ‘We’ve got some accommodation we can hang a plan around…’
By end of play on Friday Dave had a tracker booked, we’d accommodation through to Richmond and a loose plan. Frank Wainwright who’d I ‘inspired’ ?! to join was feeling a little despondent so I said let’s meet Sunday – I’ll share my plans and you’re welcome to join in. Over the next few days the ‘Community Traverse’ popped up on my feed and Frank joined in with the Centurian Running stripped back “Sea to Sea” race, but for me a cut-off time of 100 hours that felt taut, especially if you had to carry all your kit.
Phoenix from the ashes – ‘Community Traverse’ is born.
The wonderful Kitty-Leigh and David Keane gave up their own races and started building a support network; Kieran was another runner who was managing events in the background and planned on toeing the start line. Each hour another hurdle was overcome – trackers… ‘We’ve got sponsorship for that from SunGod sunglasses’; ‘we have a bag drop system in play’; ‘accommodation’…Shap, Kirkby Stephen, Richmond… The maddest most positive WhatsApp group and a community is born. Yes, it is really going to happen. Donate what you can. We’ll see you at the start line. I can’t emphasise the amount of logistics required to move people and kit 300km across the country, with up to 100km between the front and back markers. An event that would normally be months in the planning, seemed to be coming together in days.
Final week at work, not sure how it’s all going to play out, Dave has joined the supporter’s group and final logistics, food bought, bag packed and legs that feel ready for the challenge. A drive to mum’s in Ambleside ready for an early start to St Bees and finally meet the people who have had a similar emotional rollercoaster to me over the last ten days.
St Bees – The Start
A brisk wind is blowing along the coast at St Bees and we enter the hotel lobby, and finally get to meet the team and James Thurlow – who would have been doing the tracking for Ourea, as we’re there early – a bit of chat – I hadn’t realise that the Northern Traverse was another one of James’ excellent conceptions. The 6am starters are well clear. I go to the beach to choose small pebble; it will be my companion to Robin Hoods Bay. Normal nervous loo relay, right collect your trackers… 20 minutes to start… David Keanne – some inspirational words… and we’re off.
The start is familiar, apart from the fact we have a shorter route due to a cliff fall at St Bees. The weather is pretty perfect, and we all start to spread out along the course. Chasing me, following a later 9am start, will be Frank Wainwright and the other Centurian comeptitors – I know I’ll see him along the course at some point and fully expect him to catch-up before I start the climb up Black Sail. Dave’s advice eat/drink every 20 minutes (I often do a long run on little more than 500ml of water and a couple of cereal bars). My target for today is Patterdale and a 30 minute drive from there back home for a couple of hours sleep before getting to Kirkby Stephen the next day. Dave has said he’ll see me at Ennerdale Bridge with the dogs.
There is a chap in an orange top just ahead who passes a turning – I holler him back; Eric from Canada, we’ll be on/off companions for the rest of the event. The route briefly shares a track with Whitehaven parkrun – where I intersect with Dave and Myrtle. All good. Already I am feeling more comfortable. Not long after I see Dave I stop for a quick pic, wishing Frank (Wainwright) had caught me at this point for a photo op.
Just before Ennerdale, around Cleator Moor area, Sabrina Verjee, the first Centurian runner passes me on her way to setting a new female C2C record after knee reconstruction last year.
‘Alright?’
‘Yes thanks – enjoy!’
She moves past effortlessly, seeming to float past. Another group of guys are on her heels. This is the joy of ultras – you can be on the same journey as a world class athlete, but there is a lack of ego, we are all out experiencing the same conditions and challenges.
Dave hands me a tea and bacon butty at Ennerdale Bridge and says he’ll come along the side of Ennerdale with me – it is a lovely part of the trail. I struggle to eat much of the (salty) bacon butty, but the tea is perfect. I decide to take a more scenic approach to Ennerdale and meet up with Dave along the side of the water. This is a stunning part of the course.
Still quite a lot of runners are visible through this part and we split company; I continue along to Black Sail Youth Hostel. No drama this time around; unlike the Lakes Traverse in 2024, the wind is behind and not so fearsome. More route markers make the navigation easy. Over the top and down into the Slate Mine at Honister, where Frank catches me up and my brother is waiting for me with more tea and a sandwich. I sit for a few minutes and then continue.
I head off down the hill to the first official checkpoint at Rosthwaite, where Frank catches me again and we both enter the aid station. Eric is already there and has pretty much stripped off. I grab a hot chocolate to mix with the Complan**, a piece of flapjack and move on.
** Complan is a dietary supplement, specifically designed to provide easily digested balanced nourishment and many other benefits; it’s a cheaper, more readily available alternative / adjunct to gels, drink powders etc on long adventures.
It’s a steep climb out of Rosthwaite, and on my way up I fall into step with a guy who is back-packing the Coast to Coast (C2C) over 7 days and is planning to wild camp at Greenup Edge. He is a keen paraglider and takes part in festivals that happen in Borrowdale. I stop to admire the sunset behind us. He asks why I do ultras, and I reply that I enjoy the training and recceing as much the events – it gets me to explore new places. He then admits to a similar reason for ‘doing the Wainwrights’, it gets him to fells he probably wouldn’t go to otherwise, and we both like the solitude and lack of phone signal. It’s starting to get dark, but there is an almost full moon and he peels off. I follow the gpx, but curse myself as there is now a slabbed footway, which I eschew for a boggy trod.
Headtorch on and back on track and down into Grasmere to have a romantic dinner date with Dave. Pasta forced down by 8pm and another 10k over to Patterdale before bed. Eric leaves just ahead of me, but I pass him on the uphill and an easy trot down the side of Grisedale Tarn and beck, with my brother coming up the track to accompany me into Patterdale. Another volunteer coming up the hill checks we’re ok and asks if I have knowledge of Eric – I say I’ve spotted his headtorch and he’s inbound. A quick check-in with the support crew – I’ve already okayed with race-HQ that I’ll be leaving the course here for a bed for a few hours in Ambleside, and the only request is to let them know when I plan on re-joining via WhatsApp. Day 1 done. No dramas.
A drive home, more food (Complan and banana) forced down on the drive home. Watch/Phone/Headtorch onto charge. Sort feet. Bed. Sleep for a couple of hours. Alarm. Up. Breakfast (Complan/Oat Gruel Mix) Retrieve bag. Fill bottles. Get electrical stuff. Make sure drop bag is ready to go. Legs stiff but working, drive to Patterdale. Text to say I’m back on course.
Dave and dogs join me out of Patterdale, no Kidsty this time, bad weather route has been invoked. Askham Fell and I have a less than positive history. It’s fine over and along Boredale Beck – beautiful even; then the rain and wind start. Ah familiar territory. Three pairs of gloves on, the wind and rain are both lazy – going through rather than round you. The upside is at least this time it’s daylight. At Bampton I stop in the phonebox made famous in the film Withnail and I to get some food down and put on another layer. 10 minutes and I’m off. Along a road for a bit… a car draws behind me; it’s Dave and mum with offer of tea and dry gloves. I am really pleased to see them, a definite lift after the incessant rain. I reflect that I am lucky that my Mum is here to cheer me on.
I continue to Shap, navigation made easier by daylight and posts showing the route through the mire. It took me many hours to navigate this section on the Lakes Traverse – so easy this time.
Into the checkpoint at Shap around 1:30pm; lovely volunteers waiting to dry gloves on radiators – Eric just rising from his sleep and another couple of people taking the opportunity to sleep out the storm. Brother, Mum and Dave and dogs all there to see me. I felt a whole heap better than two years ago. Next target Kirkby Stephen before midnight. This would be the furthest I’d been in an event. I’d recced most of this next section recently over half term and knew the target was realistic.
The sheep, once you cross the motorway, change from the Lake’s Herdwicks to the Dale’s Swaledales. This is a relatively flat section and as the bad weather route was still in play more road than I enjoy. Past the quarry with ‘ Deep Active Sludge’ signs, and into Orton. Dave was waiting with the best millionaire’s shortbread and … a cup of tea. Our next RV was Ravenstonedale for romantic re-hydrated meal – with a side of Complan. The shepherds were busy, peak lambing season and cold, wet , windy weather meant they had a lot of work to do to keep the new and rapidly arriving lambs from perishing overnight. Dave had bought ME a pair of waterproof gauntlets with an entire duvet inside – I decided now was time for those bad boys.
As dusk fell, curfews of Curlews, and their haunting calls, were my companions; they are a bird in significant decline and it was great to know they were here in good numbers at least. They are the sound of spring nights in moorland areas and I first got to experience them during the ‘Fellsman’ event the year before. I found my way across the moor without difficulty, however in the dark there was an abandoned house that looked like a witch had been painted on the side, so I was inspired to move past quickly… rational brain convincing me it was just mould in a weird shape. I have enough of an imagination to terrify myself – fortunately it’s the wrong time of year for the screaming of foxes, which is eerily like a baby’s scream.
A delightful, cobbled bridge with a beck running along one side of it before cascading into the river below was followed by an ascent and then meander into Kirkby Stephen across field margins where I resorted to following the walls round the field edges. I kept hearing the curlews, and turning round mistakenly thinking someone was calling my name. I visit the Community Traverse checkpoint and get directions to the night’s hostel accommodation.
Dave in the interim had managed to drop the room key when shuffling dogs, bags etc into our room, but fortunately found them and was there to guide me into the room.
Watch/Phone/Headtorch on to charge. Sort feet. A few bits of rubbing on the tops of my toes, not helped by my error of swapping to synthetic inner socks today and water going over the tops of my outer waterproof socks. Decide to rinse my feet off, and Dave suggests why not a shower – great idea. I grab some soap and turn on the shower, suddenly I’m on my arse and blood is pouring from my big toe. F**k. Is it this that will stop me continuing?
‘You alright?’
‘Think so’
Try again, it’s like a fecking ice-rink! Is this what happens when your proprioception goes. I’m hanging onto the shower for dear life and quickly finish and slide into bed. I add sudocrem to rubs and scratches and figure I’ll see what my toe looks like in the morning.
Bed. Sleep for several hours. Alarm. Up. Breakfast (Complan/Oat Gruel Mix) Retrieve bag. Dave patches the cut, wool sock inner sock selection. Fill bottles. Get electrical stuff. Make sure drop bag is ready to go. Downstairs to put shoes back on. Stare at the sign opposite the stair I’m sat on: ‘Our showers can be very slippy – take a mat!’ No s**t. I start laughing.
Today is the day I’m most looking forward to, I pass the half-way mark and will catch-up with school friends – in one way I’m walking home. Swaledale is beautiful, I pass Marrick (That was our house at school) and Richmond was where I lived for ten years. We walk out together with dogs and through Kirkby Stephen and out over Frank’s Bridge (no sign of him though; he’s now far ahead of me). As the weather has improved, I decide to take the high-level route up over Nine Standards Rigg. I’m not quite going to make sunrise at its summit, but a glorious sunrise nonetheless after yesterday’s unremitting rain. I share a picture of it on the Community Traverse WhatsApp group, and a load more pop up. It’s great to feel that you are not alone.
A WhatsApp from David Keane (Community Traverse Race Director) pings – ‘Sue be aware there is nobody else on Nine Standard Rigg. Everyone has dropped down onto the road’
I reply with ‘Ok, Recce done in Snow and Ice in Feb and have microspikes – it’s glorious and super benign…’
‘Spot on Sue enjoy your day’ is his positive reply. I am grateful and reassured that there is someone actively “watching my back” remotely 24/7.
The route over Nine Standards is indeed less icy than in February (Pics for comparison).
I make good progress along the now slabbed route all the way to the ‘Yorkshire Shepherdesses’ house at Ravenseat and into the outskirts of Keld, where at almost the same point I met Dave on my recce, there he is with my brother and sister-in-law who have come to join me for part of my adventure, with Coco their dog. We pause for some food at the half-way point marker and obligatory picture. Dave said that the Community Traverse’s Richmond checkpoint was short of volunteers, so he and Rich would come along for a bit, then drive the cars to meet Lorraine and I around Surrender Bridge, then Dave would head off to do a stint in the checkpoint.
We passed Eric (again) on the route along to Gunnerside and continued to put the world to rights. Walking even briskly, with someone, allows you to have full conversations ; and Lorraine and I (and later Rich and I) were able to have conversations that would have ended up being curtailed, or may not have had the opportunity to start, in our normal gatherings. If I had been in the Ourea event that I had signed up for meetings would have been limited to road crossings and outside checkpoints. Before we knew it, we were at Surrender Bridge – with a cup of soup waiting (not sure what rocket fuel it contained, but it was just what thed octor ordered). A further surprise was that Rich was being handed the baton (me) and would carry me (figuratively) all the way to Reeth! The miles flew past and another cup of tea in Reeth saw me safely on my way into Richmond.
There used to be a challenge for 6th formers at my school to walk from Reeth to Richmond, which back in the day felt like an epic achievement but today was but a fairly short step saw me past Marrick priory and up the nuns steps (ignoring the gpx) and down into Marske, much sooner than anticipated ready for an 8pm finish in Richmond. Dave was coming up the hill and opened with ‘I have a suggestion…’
‘OK’
‘How about getting food in Richmond, then continuing on further for a bit?’
‘Ok then’
‘One more thing; I’ve hit a pothole and punctured a tyre on the car’
The inherently selfish nature of the event saw me take the proffered provisions and continue onwards, leaving Dave to juggle dogs and a roadside wheel change. By the time I reached Richmond the Old Girls’ network had roared into action, and Dave had some additional support and was rolling on four inflated wheels again. I waved at school as I passed, and took a photo.
A comment from one old school friend liked that ‘the glove on a post seemed to flicking the ‘v’ at school’ – I’d like to say it was deliberate! I got to the next amazing checkpoint to see two school friends; one a local Richmond girl (Jo) who I have known for a mere 46 years, and the other (Chalrlie) I first met nearly 50 years ago as a seven-year-old… I may have reverted to my childhood self – sorry if we woke anyone coming into the checkpoint with our chatter! Waiting for me was a foil covered dish, which I unwrapped….
Salmon Lasagne with a side of asparagus, feta and walnuts…
I hadn’t realised until this point that that was precisely what I needed.
More tea and out the door, as I was walking through the square to the river a lady called across ‘You doing the Northern Traverse?’
”Yes’
‘Keep on going!’
I love Richmond.
After navigating myself to a bit of a dead end (We didn’t venture that side of the river from school unless escorted) I passed multiple ‘Stay on the footpath, troops exercising’ signs but successfully navigated Catterick without incident and finished the day in Bolton on Swale. We drove back and I returned to Charlie and Jo:
‘How was it round Catterick?’
‘Yup, at least I wasn’t murdered and there weren’t any troops on exercise’
Now is probably the time to admit I was raised by nuns, so not much scares me. But it is still a consideration that male athletes seldom have to make when heading out on a run, ‘What route will I take?’, ‘Are there any dodgy areas I should avoid?’ ‘Have I done this route multiple times?’ ‘Is my endpoint visible on Strava.’ ‘ Where’s a ‘safe place if I need to escape?’ Guys have these conversations with your female friends – you may be surprised what precautions we all take just to leave on a run, especially in the winter.
Watch/Phone/Headtorch onto charge. Sort feet. Bed. Sleep for several hours. Alarm. Up. Breakfast (Complan/Oat Gruel Mix) Retrieve bag. Fill bottles. Get electrical stuff. Make sure drop bag is ready to go. Getting ready to leave and Charlie and Jo are up to wave me off – both have work later.
‘Killing me softly….with his love’
‘F’ing hell Jo is that your alarm, you’re a psychopath…’
‘I like it, gets me up in the morning.’
Drive to Bolton-on-Swlae, last night’s finish point. Text to say I’m back on course. Dave has the tyre to sort in Richmond, so Charlotte will sort me out at Danby Wiske, but I’m quicker than expected so she reroutes to Oaktree hill and sees me with a choice of pasties, an iced coffee (not tea!!!) and a packet of pickled onion Monster Munch, a reminder of our school days. The sun is out and sunburn starts to look a possibility in the ‘Vale’. After a brief stop and catch-up, I’m on my way again and a text from Dave confirms he’s managed to sort a new tyre, and wrangle dogs, and will see me at the A19 crossing.
The A19 crossing sees Dave and the girls approaching and it’s great to feel like a lot of progress has been made, as we get closer to the services the Community Traverse team come to beckon us into the services. A stop there and onwards. Crossing the A19 feels like the most hazardous part of the journey. The marshals give me the nod to cross and I discover I have another pace! Four lane dual carriageways will do that for you. Dave caught me up through Arncliffe Wood and then peeled off to catch me up later. I come across ‘the group of four’ who had started the adventure together and planned on finishing it together just topping up at an ‘aid van’ before heading up towards Lordstones. We continue along for a bit together and they pull past.
I look up and I see signs of burning heather on the valley across from me and have the dilemma of calling the fire-brigade; surely recent weather makes an outbreak unlikely? I remembered the images of an out-of-control fire which had devastated the moors near Whitby a year earlier. After continuing along up towards the viewpoint I decide a phone call was better sooner rather than later.
‘999 – which service?’
‘Fire’
‘Ok putting you through’
‘Where is the fire?’
‘Um well I’m on the coast-to-coast path, heading East towards Lordstones and it’s South of me, a couple of valleys away. It might be a controlled burn?’
‘They normally notify us and there haven’t been any notifications, We’ll send a crew to investigate.’
I continue my journey that is now punctuated by sirens ahead of me, the smoke is still billowing, but the flames are less visible. I stop at the top and my phone rings.
‘Its ..fre sv’
I give a slightly more coherent description of the fire direction using the cairn to give a bearing from and the fact that there is a mast visible in the distance.
As I come down to the road at Lordstones there are a couple of firemen in high-viz and just beyond them Dave and the dogs. I start to run towards them – Dave thinks I’m really pleased to see him (I am) but more intent on explaining to the firemen what I saw and show them the video I’d taken. I obviously start by apologising and they say they’d much rather be alerted sooner rather than later; they’ve sent someone off on a quad bike to investigate, Excitement over, food imbibed I continue onwards.
On the way up to Wainstones I see a beautiful Barn Owl swooping with something in its claws, a reminder of why I love these events. As I reach the top a chap stops and asks if I’m doing the Northern Traverse; he’s out supporting his wife who is tackling it. We chat for a while and just before I move on again the Barn Owl swoops past again and I point it out – two of us have seen it, so it’s not a mirage.
Dave is waiting with supper before a relatively long stretch along a cinder track all the way to the Lion Inn. We travel up together to a trig point, where Dasve returns to the car, and I continue past the group of four, who didn’t fancy the trig point detour. Now it is a march in the dusk, there are curlews and grouse, and I eventually put on my headtorch, but as the moon is so bright it almost feels unneeded.
I am aware of a headtorch approaching from behind and assume ‘the group of four’ are catching up, but it is Helen, whose husband I had pointed the barn owl to. She is super quick, but I can keep up and we are chatting about our supportive ‘other-halves’ and get onto loving OS maps.
‘What are those lights?’
‘Oh shit, we’ve missed our turning to the Lion Inn’
The irony that we passed it as we were extolling the virtues of OS maps was not lost on us.
A broken phone call with David almost saw us miss each other, but a quick catch-up and I continue along a bit further than planned to a non-descript road junction ready for the final day, with around 40km left. I start to believe it is possible.
A drive to the shepherds hut accommodation, more food (Complan and banana) forced down on drive. Watch/Phone/Headtorch onto charge. Sort feet. Bed. Sleep for a few hours. Alarm. Up. Breakfast (Complan/Oat Gruel Mix) Retrieve bag. Fill bottles. Get electrical stuff. Make sure drop bag is ready to go. Legs stiff but working, Drive to start point .Text to say I’m back on course.
Easy navigation to Glaisdale and pass two runners asleep on the verge, I step round them, one wakes and smiles and I smile back and continue. A couple of exchanged texts with a friend Lizzy over the course and she confirms she got married in the church at Egton Bridge and I promise to wave as I go past. Her parents live in Grosmont and she warns me about the hill.
I get to the final checkpoint before Robin Hood’s Bay and Eric is just about to leave, having started his day with a pint of beer – I decline the offer of beer and we both head off together – I ignore the gpx route across the bridge and elect for the stepping stones option and Eric gamely follows me across. I hope the beer doesn’t affect his balance. I expect not.
It’s relatively quick along the track and up the hill, a chap is out on a run and asks if I’m doing the Northern Traverse.
‘Yes’
‘You’ve only got about 12-14 miles left and one climb and a bit of a bump, I had sleet this time last year and stopped off at home for a bacon butty. Crack on’
Dave and the girls accompany me up and over the hill and then return to meet me at Falling Foss, a delightful deciduous valley that will be full of bluebells in a few weeks, but not today. I sit down by the car and take stock, the packet of monster munch from the day before is calling my name.
Up and onto the moor. This is sobering. Fylingdales moors was devastated by fire last year and it looks post-apocalyptic. Any lingering doubt about calling the fire-brigade is dispelled.
A message pings through to Frank Wainwright, now long finished, ‘How are you feeling today?’
Frank ‘My right foot is huge and blistered. Brain is slow. But appetite has returned’
Me ‘No change as far as the brain then?’
Frank ‘Get to Robin Hoods Bay’
Dave ‘Don’t worry Frank she can still multi-task after 175 miles’
Frank ‘Tiredness improves her wit’
Dave ‘I can’t multi-task so I am very much focused on this:’ Picture of beer
There then followed a game of on-line beer snap and chat as I continued as instructed.
Just before I reached the road a lady said ‘Sue?’
I replied ‘Yes?’
‘It’s Eric’s wife – I’ve heard so much about you! I’m just going out to meet him.’
Round the corner and Kieran, the third instigator-enabler of the Community Traverse, and who had completed his own crossing the day before, and his wife Sarah, are with their van. They pass on congratulations; they wanted to see everyone but can’t wait at the finish as they have their kids to collect. I thank them for their amazing work and light touch enabling that has allowed this phoenix of an event to arise gracefully.
It’s easy route finding and once I hit the coast, I take stock of the past few days and reflect on the journey, both emotional and physical. Eight months ago I signed up for an event that would have challenged me in different ways. Two weeks ago it was cancelled. Dave immediately stepped up to provide the best support and allowed me to keep progressing without incident, all whilst juggling 2 dogs, route-finding and managing incidents without missing a step. While I’ll never know, I think this journey ended up more enjoyable as a consequence; I was able to have company, the positivity and inclusivity of the Community Traverse permeated through, we were gently supported but given the space and agency to adapt the support to interlock with plans we had already made.
I continue along the final undulations along to Robin Hood Bay and trot through the village. I start on the steps down, but quickly move onto the road, the number of people ambling around seems insane after the relative solitude of the past few days. The road through is interminable and all I can contemplate is coming back up the hill at the end. Finally, a cheer as I round the corner (as I’m typing this ‘There she goes is on the radio, and Kitty-Leigh chose this as the Instagram reel music for my finishing highlights – synchronicity!) a small, perfectly formed crowd of well-wishers and I reach the end!
Hugs from Vicki, Frank, Dave, Kitty and Sarah.
I remember the stone I chose in St Bees and I plan to try skimming it. I get everybody to make sure they’re videoing me – I’ll only get one attempt…
It fails. Ah well, given the way things have played out, it really isn’t a disaster.
We all adjourn to the pub basement for a well-earned cup of tea and a pint. Some exchanging of stories and I wander out to see Eric complete, my on/off companion for the whole event.
What an outstanding few days. I have donated to next year’s event, but plan on being there as a supporter next time around. I can highly recommend. People who know me know I am not a naturally talented athlete in terms of speed; but I have huge amounts of dogged determination and a belief that in the words of some guy from my uni ‘Things can only get better…’ (although on Sunday that was wetter). Hopefully my adventure can inspire someone else to believe and achieve.
I have currently raised £1960 as well. I work with (mostly) 8-18 year old students and every day with them is a joy. They all have some form of neurodiversity (dyslexia, dyspraxia, ASC) and are my daily inspiration, and reason for positivity. Hiuge thanks to everyone who has donated and supported my endeavour.
If I ever look at what is going on in the world and feel despair, I look at the young people I work with and feel positive about the future. I hope they will be inspired by my journey, as I am by theirs.
To Summarise:
Essentially a long picnic, with all the weather, amazing scenery and the opportunity to catch-up with friends, and make new ones. The selflessness of Kitty-Leigh and David Keane to give up their races, and the coming together with Kieran, has turned this into a unique event that has shown that ‘community’ still exists.
Finally, my own hero – Dave, who made my adventure not only possible, but probable. Without him there is every possibility that I may not have finished, let alone had the enjoyment that every moment of this event provided. His belief in my ability to manage independently is empowering and he was and is always there to support me.
Love you XXX
P.S. The Community Traverse WhatsApp is still alive and well, and we get to have our own post-race support group.
Footnote:
Feet and things: Apart from the cut on my big toe, my feet are undamaged. Below is Dave’s foot care regime, which I largely followed too:
- Daily moisturising – I use O’Keeffe’s to keep my feet soft and supple; there are many, many alternatives. The goal is smooth, resilient skin, not dry, cracked, calloused. I haven’t used pedicures or pumice stones, but others do – either way, look after your peg-ends like you’re preparing for a foot modelling career.
- Barrier cream before runs – applied to reduce the impact of friction and moisture. I use Musher’s Secret (See below for details on ingredients etc.)—originally bought for protecting our dogs’ paw pads out in the hills. Occasionally I bark after application, but honestly, it’s been very effective on my pads too. Trenchfoot cream is a popular alternative if you don’t have a dog and Mushers Secret in the house. It’s specifically formulated in the South West for running humans, and has a vegan version too.
- Nail care – Keep them neat, well trimmed, and healthy.
- Socks and shoes – Crucial. I use:
- A thin merino wool liner
- A thicker waterproof outer (Dexshell, in my case—but many good options exist)
- This combo typically requires my daps to be half a size bigger; and for multi-day efforts, a full size up to allow for swelling.
- Shoe fit is key: close-fitting but not tight. It’s a balance between avoiding pressure points and limiting foot movement inside the shoe—especially when descending or traversing rough terrain. Finding your ideal lacing tension and fit will take trial and error, and vary depending on terrain, weather, route length etc.
- Gaiters – Help keep debris out, protect socks, and improve comfort.
- Post-run care on multi-day events – At the end of each day, I strip off socks, moisturise again, and slip on dry, oversized Dexshells and a pair of gardening clogs. Overnight I sleep barefoot. And so far, without fail, my feet have been ready to go again the next morning; unlike the rest of my body!
The result? No blisters, maceration, or lost nails for the past two years since adopting this routine. However, I’ve spent a fair bit on moisturiser and socks…
Footnote to the footnote:
Musher’s Secret is made from 100% pure, natural, food-grade waxes—white and yellow beeswax, carnauba, and candelilla—blended with vegetable oils and vitamin E. It’s non-toxic, non-GMO, gluten-free, and creates a breathable barrier that protects against snow, salt, hot pavement, and rough terrain.
