Rob Roy Challenge – 21st June 2008

Midges everywhere. We had arrived early to get near to the front of the narrow start and were keen to get moving. There was no need to indulge in warm-up exercises, as you were continually moving trying to escape clouds of midges. It was a real relief to be underway at 7.00am and at least provide a moving target for our little biting friends.

We had already completed the first section of the route twice in training and were confident we could jog most of the way. Ahead of us lay 17 miles of the Rob Roy way from Drymen to Callander. About a mile in we had a bit of a scare, as Ross felt particularly unwell. I guess the sight of so many people in lycra could turn anyone’s stomach. He managed to soldier on and soon found his form. Once again we had been blessed with dry weather, which made life all the more pleasurable. When we reached the first checkpoint at Aberfoyle we were making good progress and were well ahead of our target time of around 8 hours for the event.

After the scare we received on the Maggie’s Monster Bike and Hike we were all fitter and better prepared for this challenge. Confidence was high, despite what lay ahead. We made the transition at Callander in 2 hours 45 minutes. Once again LJV was there as support team along with Grant’s wife Lindsay. A quick change and a bite to eat and we were off again, this time on bikes for the 38 miles to Kenmore.

Things started reasonably well until one by one the team members started to struggle with cramp. We tried to cycle as a team but with midges biting each time we stopped to regroup and the continual stopping and starting causing muscles to cool, the group splintered into two. By the time we reached the checkpoint at Killin, Grant was suffering very badly with cramp and tried to relieve the problem with a massage. This provided only temporary relief and as we left the checkpoint Grant stopped. After much discussion he decided that he would call in the support team and the rest of us would continue. The final 16 miles presented a challenging hilly section along the shores of Loch Tay. Ross and Mark were still suffering from cramp and continued to work together whilst Alun pushed on.

Alun crossed the line in 6 hours 51 minutes with Ross and Mark only 9 minutes behind. Surprisingly Grant arrived only a few minutes later. Somehow he had managed to push through the pain and complete the course. The mystery remains to this day exactly how he achieved this…

With the entire team across the line in less than 7 hours 10 minutes we had smashed our projected time. What made it particularly nice was to find our families at the finish line to welcome us. We had been thrown off the scent when an earlier text message said the lure of T K Maxx was too strong and they would not be at the finish line.

Maggie’s Monster Bike and Hike – 3rd May 2008

It was to be an early start on the Saturday morning so we had agreed to an overnight stay 3 miles from the start at Fort William. We all met around 6pm in good spirits to register for the event and get some food. As we left registration the grey clouds hanging over Fort William confirmed the weather report. Prepare for rain for the next 24 hours. We were prepared, with a change of clothes for each checkpoint, but the prospect of 18 – 24 hour of biking and walking in the rain was not one to look forward to.

Mark had come-good with the new team gear and we sat in the local pub in our Cringe and Hackett t-shirts and jackets, (we thought) we looked the part. As we discussed tactics for the event it was clear things were getting serious. Eating chips was called ‘carb loading’ and there was much discussion on the nutritional value of beer.

Saturday, 5.45am, time to get up for the big day. We had an 8.00am start time so we needed to be at the start and ready to go for around 7.30am. Not to get the front of the pack, but to make sure we got the free bacon roll on offer. More ‘carb loading’. The first section of the 30-mile cycle route was along a canal path. I have ridden canal paths for years without incident, but when you see a safety boat with divers following you have this constant fear of an accident waiting to happen.

My white bike has been the subject of many jokes since I bought it earlier this year. Mark particularly enjoyed the high-pitched squeak the front brake developed over the first ten miles. It at least provided a topic of conversation as we rode along wide cycle tracks. It was clearly going to be a long day. It was a welcome surprise to come across some muddy single-track paths. You at least had to concentrate on where you were placing your wheels. Single-track (as the name suggests) means room for only one bike, which made life difficult as we caught up on slower cyclists from the earlier start. Most of the slower cyclists moved out the way, the rest inadvertently did their best to force you into the trees.

The final stage of the cycle to Fort Augustus was another canal path run. We regrouped and travelled in formation like a team for once. About a mile in we spotted an upturned bike and a cyclist in distress. In the spirit of the event we all skidded to a halt and performed an inner tube replacement that would have put a formula 1 pit-crew to shame. As quickly as we arrived we disappeared into the distance with the lucky recipient realising that they had been saved by Cringe and Hackett. Well, we fixed his bike and he gave us a couple of wine gums for our trouble.

At Fort Augustus it was time to meet our support team, get some food and change for the walking stages. After a little confusion we finally met up with our man Scott (Little Johnny Vegas or LJV to his friends. No time for an explanation here), and we set about changing into our walking gear in the middle of a public car park. In the meantime LJV cracked on with cooking up rolls and sausage for the team. More ‘carb loading’. It all seemed pretty normal to us but a few tourists were a little confused by our behaviour. At this stage the rain had stayed away and nobody dared mention it and tempt fate.

43 miles to walk, full stomachs and feeling good, we set off for Inverness. Mile by mile little twinges grew into aches. As we made our way through some spectacular scenery we realised we had overlooked one thing in our preparation. We were regularly climbing and descending rather than the expected walk along the foot of the Great Glen. We later discovered that there is around 9,000 feet of climb in the walking stage. Trust me, this takes its toll on the knees and ankles.

We clocked up the miles chatting to others we met on the way, passing the time and taking our minds of all the parts of our bodies that were screaming “enough!” As we descended to the final big check point at Drumnadrochit, Grant tried to tempt us and our latest ‘new friends’ into jogging the last mile or so. Despite no takers he decided to run on anyway and catch up with the next group and try his over-enthusiastic Labrador impression on them. We could still hear him as he rounded the corner ahead. A few seconds later we heard him shout again. One of the guys walking with us suggested that it would not be a total disaster if that was the sound of Grant disappearing under the wheels of a large commercial vehicle. It was clear we were all tired and irritable. Thank god it hadn’t rained yet.

With 16 miles to go Drumnadrochit appeared like an oasis in the dessert. We had a hot meal, a change of clothes and a massage. This was the finish point for the ‘Silver Challenge’ and the opportunity to collect a medal and stop there was very tempting. We left around 8.00pm feeling a little better, ready to face the final six or so hours through the night. This was to be the hardest shift. It was now sheer determination that drove us all. Even the Grant was quiet. His over-enthusiasm had been rewarded by huge blisters and as annoying as it was at the time, we were all missing the Labrador.

It was 1.55am on Sunday 4th June when we all arrived together at the finish line in Inverness. The organisers had done a splendid job to ensure that a noisy and supportive crowd greeted every person crossing the line. Looking around the team it was clear that we were finished in more ways than one. We had some breakfast and limped our way back to the cars for the long drive home. We were all too tired to celebrate but we all felt proud of what we had achieved. At least it never rained.

Spring Training – Isle of Arran April 2008

At last some sunshine. We had planned a testing ridge walk between Glen Rosa and Goatfell. The day started well and we were on the hill for 09:00, feeling fit (sort of) and ready. As we gained altitude the views over Broddick Bay were stunning, but the wind was picking up speed. The early climb was over marshland, much to our disgust. Still, motivated by lunch at the top we pushed on through and eventually made it on to more solid ground. By this time the wind was pretty strong and remaining upright was beginning to be more of a challenge. Staggering around trying to stay on your feet may be fine after a good night out, but did not make for pleasurable walking. Within 50 metres of the summit we turned to push for the top and were immediately flattened by the wind. Lying on our stomachs clinging on to the ground to avoid the swiftest descent of Glen Rosa in history, we decided our climb was over for the day. Not even the might of Mark’s packed lunch would steady us if we continued to climb. From that point on the day was transformed into a distance rather than climbing challenge. We descended back to Broddick Bay, took on sustenance (I do love Magnum ‘lollies) and took the scenic coastal route to Lamlash.

Sunday is traditionally reserved for biking and we set off for the trails. With the sunlight glinting through the trees we picked up some excellent trails around Whiting Bay. The kind of morning you can really enjoy. Tree felling soon brought us back to earth with a bump. Almost literally. Stuck in woods trying to pick your way over felled trees only leads to frustration and scratched legs. After half-an-hour of this accompanied by Alun’s winging we emerged and pushed on to Clauchlin’s Point. Here we enjoyed a blast for home down this cliff side path, always wary of the sheer drop to the Atlantic on our left hand side. Bliss. It was time for a well-earned beer (or two).