Northern Traverse

by Pip Haworth

Grab a brew, and a biscuit, buckle up, it’s going to be another long one.

So this all began a year ago, as it does, on the start line to another race. I had a great time on the Lakes Traverse in 2024, despite a named storm coming through at the same time, I’m no stranger to challenging weather on an event. It was my first bigger ultra back after 2022 the year of Cape Wrath and the Lakeland 100 and I was in the process of deciding if these BIG ultras were for me, or was happy with those two monsters under my belt and no more. But like I said, on the start line to the Lakes Traverse, looking out to sea from St Bees, and imagining myself dipping my pebble ready for another epic, I knew that I would be booking on as soon as I’d finished this 60 miles.

Fast forwards a year and here we are. Training looked very different for me this time round, and I had a lot of doubt about whether it would work. Training for Cape Wrath left me tired, I was doing high milage, strength training and not much else. I was scared of that race, and knew if I didn’t put the effort in, I wouldn’t be making any cut offs. I was right, I had to be running a lot more to get through each day, but then there’s time to rest at camp, re-fuel, be horizontal even if no sleeping happens, and be ready again the next day. For the Northern traverse the cut offs are quite generous, but with it being continuous I knew there would be a lot more walking and a lot less resting. So in training I went for quality, over quantity.

I consistently ran 4-5 times a week alongside strength training, I did more walking, sometimes swapping out a long run for a walk. I was out on the Mountain bike about once a week and occasionally going climbing. I focused on looking at my hours of activity and total milage across all activities rather than just running. All of this alongside the usual stuff, dialing down kit, running with a heavier bag, eating while out (even on short stuff) going out in bad weather and In the dark, and working on that all important head game.

Some of you might read this bit and not give two hoots about what happened in training, “get to the sleep deprivation stories already!” but I’m sure there’s some people who will sigh with relief to know that an ultra, isn’t all about running. All in all, I was happier in training, stronger, and less tired. Spoiler alert, It got me to the finish, so I must have done something right!

The week before the race involved kit faff, procrastinating, not packing until I had to, buying WAY too much food (better too much than not enough) and cutting rolls of KT tape into varying sized strips. I’d taken the Friday off work and spent the day not being able to sit still. I wasn’t actually nervous, it would be what it would be. I was just super excited to be out on the trail having a, very long, adventure.

I headed over to St Bees that afternoon with my partner James in the van, to register. I lugged my big drop back and shopping back full of the kit that was to go in my running bag, into the sports hall and made my way around the carousel of tables and volunteers, meeting faces I already knew wearing volunteer purple, including Kirsty B from our very own club, who i would see again at Kirkby Stephen. For most Ourea events races, you have a mandatory Ortleib dry bag that you have to use as your drop bag. But for some reason they don’t do this on NT so I made the most and packed everything in a big duffel bag so I didn’t have to empty everything out to get to the stuff at the bottom. My drop bag was half a kg overweight, so I fished out a battery pack that could go in my running bag instead and made my way back to the van.

That evening we parked up right by the sea front in the main car park where the race starts. I packed my bag, ate, and got some surprisingly good sleep. The next morning i nipped out to watch the start of the Lakes Traverse and say hi to a friend who was running, and before long I was kitted up, had dipped my pebble and shoes in the Irish sea, and was ready to go. I said goodbye to James and we were off, up the Coast Path.

The weather was forecast to be in our favour, warm, breezy days dipping into cold nights, dry and it was to be there about the same for five days. Seems my bad weather curse has lifted! Although this weather came with its challenges. I’d stripped down to a t-shirt within the first couple of miles, It had been a cold morning in St Bees but was warming up fast and I tried to reign myself in for these first miles while stubbornly ignoring the niggle in my right knee. It had come on a week before the event, I’d been for a sports massage and got some advice from Jacob to apply heat and work on my quad with a tennis ball, which had improved it, but it was still very noticeable every time i went down the stairs at work. This could be a race ender, but all I could do was see how far I got, no use crying about it now.

The start to the water point at Ennerdale Bridge went by smoothly, I’d drunk nearly a litre of water already and filled them both up for the stretch to Borrowdale. I had some nice chats with other participants along the side of Ennerdale, a section which always slows everyone down but I was grateful for, no matter how hard you try, it’s too easy to do those first ten miles at a “faster than I should” pace. I walked and jogged up the forestry track, taking the time to eat and drink plenty before the climb from Black Sail. I filed up a bottle again in Loft Beck before climbing up and over to Honister and down into Rosthwaite and our first checkpoint. The checkpoint was filled with people sat down, with their shoes off and feet up, making the most of the shade, but I wanted to get over Grisedale tarn before it got dark so I filled up bottles, drank a couple of cups of coke and filled an empty wrap packet with sandwiches, slices of pizza and cold veggie sausages. I knew we would be climbing again soon so I was happy to walk and eat. I’d bought a new pole belt because I hate the faff of putting my poles back on the front of my bag but that meant I was just carrying them all the time, which was never a problem as i was using them often on other events anyway, but I needed the option to put them away easily, and have my hands free which makes eating easier. The pole belt was a win (Inov8, picked it up on sale in Kong) and It was also stuffed full of KT tape and spare batteries.

I made my way up to long climb to Greenup Edge, I would argue that this is the hardest climb on the whole event, although not the biggest. Once I finally reached the downhill, I remembered that knee niggle I’d had, and how it was now none existent and didn’t appear again the whole event, I think it was probably just nervous before hand. I had a long chat with a couple of guys that caught me up until they pulled off ahead (although I ended up navigating for one of them to Shap) and before I knew it we were on Lake District climb number three to Grisedale Tarn.

The sun was dipping at this point, lighting up the fell tops in front of me, but the dimming light brought a bitter breeze. I took the chance to cool off from the day before pulling on a jacket and gloves, and moving my head torch into a pocket. I crested the saddle at Grisedale tarn, at this point the previous year, I’d nearly been blown off my feet and had to brace with my poles whenever a stronger gust came through. There were plenty of wild campers around the tarn, they were in for a cold night. As I dropped down I switch on the headtorch and ten minutes later took a look behind me to see the snaking trail of lights which always makes me smile. It reminds me that you’re not alone in the cold and dark.

Patterdale is the first checkpoint where you get your drop bag, and is also set up so that competitors can sleep if they want to. I knew I would still be too awake to sleep here even though it would be all night and into the next day before Kirkby Stephen, where I would see my drop bag again. I planned to stay 45 minutes and did a time check as I entered, time flies in a checkpoint and It’s far too easy to spend a couple of hours there. My drop bag was positioned next to a chair and corner of table for me, and I straight away went off to grab a bowl of chips and a burrito. Before I could sit down again, Helen had come over to greet me. I’d met Helen on Cape Wrath in 2022, I’d set off a couple of mornings with here and sat and chatted over food with her in the evenings. She’d been on Lakes Traverse the previous year but we’d managed to miss each other. I knew she was on the start line this year, but couldn’t spot her in the morning. We had a quick chat about how our race was going before I got on with re-taping feet (preemptively, no issues yet) changing my socks and replacing snacks in my bag. Our next checkpoint was Shap, which provided hot food but no drop bag, so I had to make sure I had everything I needed from here until Kirkby Stephen over 30 miles away, I threw in an extra insulated jacket, as I knew it was going to get very cold. I ate as I went and tried to ignore the man being sick on the floor right in-front of me (we were in a Marquee on the grass) and left, just 5 minutes over my allotted time, not bad.

I felt a bit queasy on the climb out of Patterdale, maybe not helped by a different man being sick behind me, and had a bit of a niggling headache. I continued sipping on electrolytes knowing that it was just the heat of the day making me feel like this, and had a ginger chew, which I now take on every race, they’re great for settling my stomach. Kidsty Pike came by pretty quick and I was grateful for the steep path down to Haweswater as It got me out of the freezing wind very quickly. I’d picked up two followers (they did ask) one of which was the guy from Greenup Edge. They were faster than me but after the long stretch of lakeshore, every time they pulled away I’d find them a couple of minutes later, retracing their steps after taking a wrong turn. After a few of these they resigned to walking behind me until Shap.

The checkpoint at Shap was the home of the walking dead, the school hall was silent, with half a dozen people asleep where they sat, with their heads on tables. I didn’t want to stay and have a nap, I’d rather move on, see a nice sunrise, and sleep at the next one in my sleeping bag. So I ate a bowl of chilli and race, followed by some soup. Helen had been sat in the corner as I arrived and I watched as she tried to lie down on the floor to sleep but got up after two minutes as it was too cold. I but my bag back on and went over to ask what her plan was “I can be ready to leave in two minutes”, perfect, a bit of company for the rest of the night. I helped myself to some peppermint crunch slice (I ate a lot of this over the next few days) and we left, wrapped up in insulated jackets, buffs and my big RAB storm mitts.

We had a good few miles of chatting and catching up. She said she’d set out a bit fast and could feel it in her quads, and we’d both had the plan not to set a Lakes Traverse PB. I’d come into Shap about 2.5 hours after my Lakes Traverse time which I was happy with. The sun came up and we were treated to a frosty wonderland lit up in the golden morning light. I like the stretch from Shap to Kirkby Stephen, but the early morning felt like a bit of a sleep deprivation death march, at least the views were nice.

It didn’t feel like long before we were pulling into Kirkby Stephen. Helen was about five minutes ahead of me by then, we hadn’t actually decided to stick together at this point, but we had had a chat about what each of us were planning for the checkpoint. At the door I was greeted by Kirsty B who gave me a hug and told me I was going great and that paired with lack of sleep made me a bit wobbly and close to bursting out crying. But she sat me down with my drop bag and fetched me a big bowl of mac and cheese. I got down to sorting myself out, there were showers, but they were cold. I went to have a rinse anyway and after a hot morning (it was midday by now), the cool water was actually very welcome. I went for an hours sleep in one of the tents that had been pitched in the school hall (so as to give people some privacy) and slept like a log before getting up and having another bowl of mac and cheese. Helen had asked if I wanted to join her to Richmond. It was a long 32 mile stretch which I’d recced and loved, but I knew it would be lonely in the dark without company. So I said goodbye to Kirsty B and Paul, another volunteers who I’ve met on various races, and set out again into the sunshine.

We made our way up onto Nine Standards and met quite a few people out and about who knew what event we were on, and gave us their congratulations. A man on the summit was very excited for us, he pointed behind us at the view that stretched out to the Lake District and said, ”look how far you’ve come”.

The run along the top and back down into the valley was lovely. It was dry underfoot but lovely and soft, noticeably bouncy after all the hard packed trails we’d been on. We passed another competitor who said his feet were full of blisters and had taken to a steady walk. There are three big climbs in this leg but before the next one is the tan hill road crossing, which marked the halfway point of the race. We had a little celebration and tried not to think about the fact that we still had over 90 miles to go. Then is was our two climbs to Gunnerside Gill (well worth the visit) and Hard Level Gill and we were now fully in the night again and well wrapped up. The stretch to Reeth dragged on and on, I knew it dragged, but Helen hadn’t recced this section, the tireder she got the more annoyed she got at the trail. The two of us began swerving all over the path, half asleep, broken up with Helens grumbling. She mentioned how much she couldn’t walk in a straight line and I got the giggles because I’d been watching her, while swerving myself in the opposite direction. We made it to Reeth and piled on full waterproofs to keep some heat in as we planned to get 10 minutes nap at the Dales bike center and we were both freezing despite already wearing a lot of layers. The bike center had a welcome bench which I passed out on. Helen’s husband had drove over to meet us there and I remember her trying to introduce me but forgetting my name despite having known me for four years. 10 minutes and we were off again, we picked up a straggler, another grumpy, very sleep deprived man and the next nine miles were comical, but ones I don’t wish to repeat. I could not stay awake. The nap helped for a short while, but I fell asleep at any given opportunity. Helen sorting out a blister, quick 3 minute power nap, if Helen needed to stop and faff or I was waiting for her I would lean forwards and rest my head on my poles and sleep for 30 seconds. I definitely fell asleep walking several times, and woke up when my head nodded. Thankfully the hallucinations kept to a minimum but we had managed to convince each other that there were two people stood by a bridge at midnight waiting for us to pass. Turned out to be a boulder with some lichen on, and at Lordstones we found out someone else had the exact same hallucination and I wonder how many other people stopped in their tracks in the middle of the night surprised by a strange couple waiting by a bridge.

Richmond checkpoint was very welcome when it came. We decided to leave at 8:30 in the morning to have minimal night time running on the rest of the route. I ate, slept for about 2.5 hours, ate again, then found a big blister on the end of my little toe. I’d noticed that it had been pressing on the shoes I’d worn in the Lake District and changed them at Kirkby Stephen, but the damage had already been done. I drained it, skinned it (sorry, gross but necessary) and dressed it with gause and tape, I’d got this far and only had one blister, that’s good going. Then we set out again, me and Helen, resigned to the rest of the route in each others company.

I hadn’t recced this section, so from Richmond all the way to Glaisdale was unknown territory. I purposely hadn’t done this section to Lordstones. It’s very flat, lots of crop fields and quiet back roads until crossing the A19. It was another hot day with minimal breeze being down low. Despite having slept we gave ourselves two power naps five miles apart both on the verges of quiet roads, plenty of other participants passed us commenting that they felt the same. I put some music on to help me through a couple of hours, lip syncing helped wake me up, and around 2pm I had a long phone call with James who had a good laugh at my descriptions of the previous night. We walked a lot but still managed a speed of 3 mph. I didn’t get my poles out until the Moors later that day which helped cure a very achy shoulder I’d had the day before due to using poles and carrying a heavy bag. We got a shuffle on so we could make the most of the A19 garage and Its choice of cold drinks and ice cream and cross the road before rush hour. We found a bench in the village of Ingleby Cross to have our garage picnic and feeling brought back to life with chocolate milk a magnum, we headed up onto the moors.

The sunset was incredible, I was up on Carlton Moor when the sun hovered just above the horizon, bright red and casting a golden glow on the surrounding moorland. Suddenly I felt amazing, I ran along the top feeling awake and alive and so privileged to be up here, right now, having this experience. I think at this point, I knew I would finish, the body felt great, I’d had no real lows, no real doubts and I was so proud of myself. This was my top moment of the race and I arrived at Lordstones absolutely buzzing. Me and Helen had decided to stay a while to skip as much of another cold night as possible and be ready for the final 40 miles. It was 9:30pm and we decided to leave at 3am. The usual routine began and we were informed that their were hot showers, but only one worked. No problem. While Helen showered I had two hot chocolates while sitting with my legs raised and giving my calves and ankles a bit of a massage. My feet were achy from the hard ground and my right ankle was a bit niggly on the inside where my gait had altered slightly from the blister on my toe. I’d made a conscious effort to move normally (which always surprisingly helps) but I knew it would be fine for the last stretch until the end. I had the most blissfully hot shower and went straight to bed for about 3 hours before getting ready to leave. I put on a lot of layers even though I knew my bag would be heavier later when I had to carry them all, had another hot chocolate and more peppermint crunch before saying goodbye to the drop bag which I wouldn’t see until the finish, and heading out into the night.

Four climbs until we were up on the flat moor of Blakey Ridge. They passed by easily, overheating on the climbs and cooling off in the breeze on the tops. It wasn’t long before the sleep deprivation kicked in again, it always seems to be worse in the early hours, when the sun has just risen but you don’t wake up properly until about 10:30. We’d seen in the dim light of the morning the cloud looking like it was pouring off on the moors, and we were soon up in that cloud and stayed in it for miles until the Lion Inn. Our soundtrack to our sleep deprived death march the hundreds of black grouse and as we laid down for one of two power naps I had to wave my pole at one that was making a racket right by my head. We didn’t talk much that morning. Tired from the cold and cold from the tired we trudged on, knowing that if we kept moving, we’d get there. We finally reached the ridge that would lead us down into Glaisdale and our final checkpoint. The clag had cleared at this point and the sunshine gave us life again, we couldn’t really talk to each other without one of us getting the giggles and having to pause due to hysterical laughter. The checkpoint was welcome, a volunteer made me a glorious cheese and marmite sandwich and Helen had another nap which saw her through the day. Just before leaving I was told that there was someone outside to see me and I popped out to see James’s parents who had cycled out to find me. They joined us for a little while to chat and we were also joined by someone Helen knew. It was so good to see someone from outside the bubble of the race but they soon left us.

Another up and over, then into the woods to Falling Foss where the cafe there was giving a free drink and cake to race participants (although we managed to get one of the few ice creams they had left) and up and over again with a soft flask full of fanta. Theres a stretch of moorland again before the back roads that get you onto the coast path, and I was slowly nodding off. I told Helen I needed to stop and she sat down and checked some messages while I passed out on the side of the path for the final time. Yes, I did actually sleep on these trail naps, It would take less than 10 seconds to fall asleep and after 10 minutes the alarm would go and we’d be up again. Helen got a cheeky photo of me on the final nap of the race. It was then road through Hawsker and onto the Coast Path.

We had a little chat along the last stretch of moor about the race, we talked about our highs and lows and how it had been great to have company. Neither of us usually band together with anyone on a race. I usually chat to people but leave them behind at checkpoints. A race this length lends itself to having company, banding together to keep each other safe and sane (or insane together) on the long stretches of night. We were both lucky to have someone that we already knew, and was a similar pace, and both relaxed enough that either of us would have been okay if the other wanted to move on alone. I told Helen that my race goal hadn’t been a time, it had been my version of a “successful finish”. To me that meant, eating well, looking after myself well, being bothered to sort myself out rather than leaving things along, making good decisions and remembering that I was privileged to be here and that this was a choice. I achieved all of these things and had a bloody great time to top it off.

The coast path was breezy and cold so we layered up again and before we knew it we were gritting our teeth, leaning back and letting gravity pull us into a painful lurching walk down the steep road to the North Sea where we were presented with a medal. We gave each other a hug, we’d done it. James was there and after dipping our shoes and pebbles in the sea he took some photos of us and carried my bag as we hobbled back up the hill to the village hall to collect our drop bags and eat a couple of much needed, fried egg butties.

 

Kudos to you if you read this far! I hope you all got a laugh, maybe someone got inspired? Just a few years ago I was someone who thought this was too far for me, yet here we are! Never say never ( I made a bet with Dad when I was a teen that I would NEVER run a 50 miles race….) The total distance was 192 miles, and our total time was 82:52 including stops. Slept for about 7 hours including all the trail naps, I’ve made up for that this week as I cannot stay awake. I’m surprisingly mobile, probably due to the large amount of walking, and injury free. The question is always, what next? To which i’ll say, give me a break!! I’m sure something will come up!