Welcome to the blog of my little run along the Pennine Way on the Summer Spine 2024. I’ve waited just over 2 weeks since the start of the race to begin writing this (and a lot longer still to finish it!) because I wanted to give time for some of it to sink in, so you’ll have to forgive me if I’ve forgotten anything important or anything has become jumbled as a result!
This blog is formatted to cover the race in chronological order, followed by a few key lessons that I learned along the way and that I’ve written down for both my future reference and to hopefully help anyone else looking to take on a similar adventure. I’ve then included some details of the kit I used during the event, in case this is of use to anyone considering an event like the Spine.
I have also done a ‘little’ video blog, but if you’re thinking that will be less hard work for you, I warn you that it is also an hour long! Link here: https://youtu.be/bhtd7MeVjVE?si=CKNxEe5e9woDghir
Leg 0 - Kit Check & Registration
I am in the very fortunate position that my sisters-in-law live in Whaley Bridge, not far from the Spine’s start line in Edale. This meant that I was able to drive down on Friday evening with the kids and meet my wife Clare there, with her having arrived earlier in the day. Having somewhere that I am comfortable and knew I could sort my own food etc. in the lead-up to an event as big as this was a huge weight off my mind, and meant that I could get reasonable sleep over the two nights before the start.
Late on Saturday morning, I drove over to Edale through absolutely torrential rain for registration. I had planned on going over earlier to watch my brother-in-law (other side of the family) start the Summer Spine Sprint race, but unfortunately he was struck down by food poisoning the night before, and had to miss his opportunity to take part.
Driving over to Edale Village Hall, I witnessed the sheer volume of water that was falling on the hills of the Peak District, and saw it flowing down the roads from the moors and fields in a way that made it clear just how water-logged the ground already was.
Having parked up and got my bag out of the car, I was complimented on having thought of an umbrella as I wandered over to get my kit checked before registration. This was completed with very little fanfare or concern, and I was pleased to be able to quickly pull out each of the items to be inspected, knowing that I therefore knew my packing system well enough to have confidence for the event.
Having completed this test that Spiners seemed to be more worried about than the race itself, I stepped inside and went through the registration process - again, painlessly thanks to the efficiency of the setup in the hall.
With my photo taken for the tracker website, I headed off back to the family, to relax for the afternoon (well, sit in a trampoline park while the kids bounced themselves silly) and get some more calories in ready for the big day.
Leg 1 - Edale to Hebden Hey
Having arrived at the start early (ok, very early… sorry Clare for getting you up so early unnecessarily!) I got my drop bag deposited and my tracker fitted to my pack. There was still around 90 minutes before the start, so we hung around the village hall a bit and caught up with some friends from previous events and elsewhere (Jason Stobbs, who I worked with back in the early 2000’s and who ran with Clare and I along Hadrian’s Wall back in 2010, and Simon Franklin, who I ran the vast majority of the Northern Traverse with in 2022). However, there’s only so much pre-race chat you can have before it starts to make you more tense than relaxed, and I felt myself on the verge of that when Jason was talking about his sock choice and the need to take care of your feet on the wet ground. This spoke to a niggling doubt that I’d had in my head since the day previously about my own sock choice, but I put it out of my mind briefly while Clare and I waited for the Cafe by the station to open, which it did around half an hour before our start time. A cup of tea for Clare and an opportunity for me to use their toilet was well worth the wait, but looking up at the low cloud over the hills again I had that nagging doubt about my socks emerge again. As we walked back to the car, I made the decision to change out of my Injinji Ultra toe socks and put on my Dexshell waterproof socks instead.
A quick goodbye hug and a kiss from Clare set me on my way to the start line, and I stood alongside Simon as we waited for 8am and the start. A short last-minute bit of chat from the organisers about the fact that the conditions underfoot were very wet and that some of the slabs appeared to be missing near Snake Pass, and we were ready for the off. “Result,” I thought “definitely the right thing to do, putting these waterproof socks on.”
As the countdown finished and we set off, I gave Clare a wave as we headed out through Edale and up to the official start of the Pennine Way. Simon and I fell into step with one another pretty quickly, but agreed that we wouldn’t attempt to complete the run together, but would just each run our own event and not wait for one another if either needed to stop, or similar. We briefly ran alongside John Boothman, who Simon knew from previous runs on the circuit and who ended up finishing third. John was saying how out of shape he was, and that he was doing this one just to see how it went… oh how humble this turned out to be, given his finish!
After around 3 miles, we reached the bottom of Jacob’s Ladder and my infamous “first 3 miles wee” was needed (don’t get Clare started on this phenomenon, it is a pet peeve when we run together!) I stopped at the foot of the steps to find somewhere private to relieve myself and get my poles out for the climb, while Simon headed on and up. As I took out my poles, I came across my first problem of the event; one of them wouldn’t open. I have been using these poles without any issues whatsoever for around 7 years, and have always loved how bulletproof they have been, but here I was at the time I knew I would need them more than ever and one had failed.
Fortunately, I have had a lot of time thinking about this event, and a fair amount of experience on ultramarathons, and I know that mindset is what often makes the biggest difference, so I had a bit of a laugh about my pole malfunction, and decided to make the best I could of the situation with my remaining functioning pole. I figured that walkers used to use one pole rather than two up until pretty recently, so I should be fine until I made it to CP1, where I would be able to get my spare poles out (yes readers, I had somehow foreseen this possibility and so packed some spares!)
I made my way up Jacob’s Ladder and onto the top of Kinder, enjoying running on paths that I was familiar with from the time when I lived in South Manchester and used to run in this area. The cloud was well and truly down though, and I wore my waterproof jacket as I trotted along the gritty, stony, boggy and uneven paths.
After a little while, I caught up with Simon and we ran together for a while, laughing about the ridiculously changeable weather (taking off and putting on our jackets seemingly every 15 minutes!) At one point, we had taken the time to take off our jackets and put our bags back on, when Simon joked that he expected it to be 10 minutes before the rain came again. He was wrong in two ways; one, it was only 5 minutes, and two, it was hail rather than rain! As the massive hail stones bounced off our hoods and shoulders, I was not only glad of the high quality of my Montane Phase Nano jacket, but was suddenly wishing I had packed my OMM waterproof shorts, because my bottom half was soaked to the skin. I didn’t realise it at the time, but that included my feet… inside my waterproof socks.
At the end of the next climb, as the sun came back out, I suddenly had the feeling like when you come out of the sea in wetsuit boots and the water is slopping around inside them. I knew that this would quickly lead to my feet shrivelling in the water, which would be bound to lead to maceration and blisters, so I told Simon to go on while I sorted my feet out. I sat by the side of the trail and took off my shoes and socks, at which point I was able to physically pour water out of the socks before wringing them out. I used a spare buff to dry my feet, applied a thick layer of Trench cream and pulled on a clean, dry pair of Injinji socks (the ones I had originally been planning to start in). These immediately felt fantastic and, although I knew that my socks and feet would get wet on the coming bogs and puddles, I reasoned they would still have opportunities to dry, and that this would be better in the long run.
By this time, Simon was a good distance ahead, so I ploughed on alone, occasionally falling in step with another runner for a while and having a chat, and then working on as our paces varied. I was feeling strong at this stage and enjoying running the flat sections and downhills wherever possible, but the terrain was much more technical underfoot than I had anticipated, so I made sure to watch my footing pretty carefully.
As I approached Snake Pass, I came upon a runner sat by the side of the track, with a Spine volunteer and fellow runner alongside him. I slowed to ask if he was ok, and was informed that he had put his foot into the hole where the missing slab was that had been mentioned at the start line, and had broken his leg. The missing slab was hidden under one of the many underwater sections of the path at the point, and the poor runner had sunk into the bog beneath, apparently striking his leg onto the leading edge of the next slab. I was told that Mountain Rescue were on their way, and so continued on my way as it was clear that I couldn’t help.
Arriving at Snake Pass, I stopped at the butty van there and grabbed a bacon butty and a can of coke. I devoured the butty, but the fizziness of the coke was something that I’d known I didn’t really want even as I bought it, so I only had a couple of swigs of that before deciding to bin it.
At this point, I also saw Ben, who I had connected with briefly on Facebook before the event. He was on the phone to his wife, arranging a pickup. When he came off the phone, I asked if he was ok and if he was able to get help. Unfortunately, Ben had also fallen on some of the loose slabs and had landed on his wrist. He thought he had broken it, so was having to pull out. I checked that he was happy getting to his lift, and he assured me that he was before I headed off again, heading towards the famous Nicky’s Foodbar - a Spine landmark of the course. Arriving at Nicky’s, I found Simon amongst a group of Spiners sitting enjoying a break from the wind in the warmth, while tucking in to a vast array of foods. I followed Simon’s advice and grabbed a vegetarian sausage sandwich, which I accompanied with a cup of tea and followed up by grabbing a banana and a packet of Haribo for my journey. The next section included a few cheeky dips and climbs, and I was left wishing I had my second pole, but overall I was moving well and enjoying being out in the improving weather.
Simon had already left by the time I finished stuffing myself, and I set out over the bridge over the M62 alone and into the final stage towards CP1 in Hebden Hey. I ran alone for a while, but as I came across some reservoirs further on, Raj Mahapatra caught up with me and we ran together towards Hebden Bridge. Raj has run multiple Summer Spines before, and it was great to run with someone with such experience and with such an interesting back-story and reason for doing the event. We spoke about his job, his charity work, his family, and all of the same things for me as well. It is amazing how much good company helps to make the miles pass, and we made our way along the path, sometimes together and sometimes separated all the way in to Hebden Bridge, passing the Manchester skyline and Stoodley Pike along the way.
Raj had warned me about the climb out of Hebden Bridge to Hebden Hey, and I was glad that he had, because it felt near-vertical as we made our way up. It was fun though, and I even found it hilarious to be running between two dry-stone walls on a single-track section of the path with undergrowth covering the entire thing from view, so that every step was a gamble. It was so ridiculous at this stage of a multi-day ultramarathon that I could do nothing but laugh as I made my way along. I wasn’t laughing when I realised how far it was still to Hebden Hey Scout Hut though, as the journey seemed to take forever. I made it into the CP around 14 hours after the start, however, and was pleased to find that Simon had only been in around 15 minutes ahead of me. It seemed that our expectations of running at similar paces were well-founded, and we decided that we would head out on the next leg together. We knew that it would be dark when we set off, and I have found that it is always better to run with someone else in the dark.
We agreed to spend around 90 minutes in the checkpoint, so focused on cleaning and drying our feet, getting our sliders on, grabbing some food, and then getting ourselves set to head out again. A couple of cups of tea, a serving of vegetarian bolognese and a few biscuits later, and I was ready to get back on the trail again. I put on another coating of Trench, a clean pair of socks, changed over the food in my pack, went through a final kit check and then we headed out onto the trail. We left at the same time as Sean Nickell and Mael Jouan, and decided to go out together.
Leg 2 - Hebden Hey to Hardraw
As soon as we got up out of Hebden Hey and onto the tops again, we realised that the wind had really picked up and with it the rain started to fall hard. At this point, we each entered our own world to an extent; conversation faltered due to the hard smacking of the rain drops driving onto our hoods and the wind whipping at our waterproof trousers and jackets. I was feeling strong physically and grateful to have two poles at last, but I know that night-times aren’t my best on an ultra, so I concentrated on working with the others to ensure our navigation didn’t drop off too much, and that we kept moving forward. As the night wore on, Simon started to suffer with some nausea, and it was clear that Mael was struggling with the sleep deprivation as well. I have so much respect for someone coming over to the UK to run an event when English isn’t your first language. When you’re already exhausted, the last thing you probably want is to listen to two Englishmen and a Northern Irishman prattling on about absolute crap while they try to keep themselves awake and their spirits up, but Mael stuck with it, using the group to help keep moving forward.
The stand-out memory from this section, other than the wind and the rain, was the frogs. It was way too early for them to be hallucinations, and all of us were seeing them, so they must have been there, but I honestly wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it; the whole path across the moorland was littered with frogs. I have no idea whether they were attracted to the stone slabs of the path because of warmth trapped in them, or whether there were an equal number of these amphibious hoppers scattered across the whole area, but there were absolutely hundreds of them!
By the time we reached the Cowling Triathlon unofficial CP, both Sean and Simon were feeling nauseous. I was feeling ok, but was glad to get into a tent and out of the wind and rain, as both were making it cold out on the course.
However, none of us had really experienced the cold like poor Stuart Humber, who was resting under a space blanket when we arrived. As we found out later, Stuart had slipped on a flagstone and fallen face-first into a deep bog in the night, filling his waterproof jacket with freezing water and soaking all of his clothes through. The cold had hit him hard, and by the time we arrived he had been asleep for a period with hot water bottles, blankets and space blankets over him to try and warm up his core temperature. While we tucked into bacon sandwiches (minus the sandwich in Simon’s case, as he was still slowly testing out his stomach again), Stuart was taken through his paces by the volunteers and a member of the Spine medical team, to ensure he was good to carry on.
As we readied ourselves to go, the Gary from the tri club asked Simon and I if we would be willing to go with Stuart down to the next village, just to check that he was moving ok and the coldness had left his body. We agreed, although it’s safe to say that we were nervous about what we would do if we had concerns about his health. At this point though, there was really nothing to worry us, as Stuart quickly proved that he was moving more quickly than us and moved off as we stopped for a jacket removal stop as the sun came out.
I was definitely happy to have the night over and to be moving again, and Simon and I moved on quite well for the next hour or so, falling back into step with Mael who had definitely also recovered with the sunrise and the food from the triathlon stop. As we came over another hill however, we recognised the runner standing to the side of the track, trying to sort things from his pack. It was Stuart, who told us that he was cold, had no further dry clothes to put on (he was wearing his spares, since his others were soaked and in his bag) and felt too sick to eat to try and get his metabolism going. Stuart is a veteran of Arctic races, and for us to see in him what seemed to us to be signs of some form of hyperthermia was concerning. We spoke with Stuart and told him to accompany us to the next village, where we would help him get warmer and make some decisions about his race. I hope Stuart won’t mind me saying here, but at times he wasn’t making a lot of sense; he was repeating things that he’d said previously, asking the same question a number of times, and struggling to choose a good path through the boggy ground. Simon and I were quite concerned about him, but agreed that the best bet was to get him to a decent extraction point while he was still moving forward at a reasonable pace. I broke open one of my self-heating packs that I was carrying for heating a dehydrated meal, and once it had cooled enough to be handleable, I stuffed it inside Stuart’s jacket to try and warm him up a little.
Eventually we arrived at the next village and Stuart sat on a wall while Simon and I looked for the best place to get him warm while he waited. As it turned out, the little wall in the sun that Stuart had found was probably the best spot and he got his bevy bag out and got on his phone to Race HQ to arrange to pull out, telling Simon and I to carry on. Once we were around the corner, Simon also called Race HQ just to confirm the situation and let them know where Stuart was, at which point we figured we had probably done all that we could. We later bumped into Stuart at the bus stop in Gargrave, where he was waiting in the back of one of the Spine team’s cars. He came over and shook my hand and thanked me for our help. I could see how gutted he was to have to pull out, and I felt bad for him, but was pleased to see him warm and looking ok again.
The journey into Gargrave itself was fairly slow, because the low-lying ground was saturated. After slowing down to try to pick our way around the first few of these, eventually Simon and I simply decided that we were going to have wet feet anyway, so we just ploughed through them in the end.
Gargrave is a picturesque little village alongside a small river, but is most famous among Spiners because it has a CoOp where you can pick up treats and supplies for the big push on towards Hardraw. For me though, it was all about getting to the large bus shelter and taking a seat, doing a bit of foot care, and maybe closing my eyes for 10 minutes. I had been mentally running on fumes a little for the past couple of miles, so it was a big relief to sit there with the Spine team volunteer, have a quick chat and take a look at my feet. They seemed to be holding up really well despite the continual soaking they were getting, so I went through my routine of applying more Trench cream and a clean pair of socks - it was a small thing, but it felt like that moment when you get out of bed and put your feet down onto a new, plush carpet; pure heaven. I managed to close my eyes while sitting in the bus stop for about 10 minutes while Simon went to the CoOp to buy himself a sandwich, some crisps and a coffee (they even had the exact sandwich he had been fantasising about on our journey in to the village, so he was over the moon, and it was great to see that his nausea seemed to have completely passed now). Clare often takes the mick out of me for my ability to take a nap just about anywhere, but in this case it was a definite bonus, and although I was never really asleep, it made a difference psychologically and then we were ready to head off again.
Leaving Gargrave, our sights were firmly set on the cliffs and limestone pavement of Malham Cove, and the mini-CP at Malham Tarn beyond. As I had been told to expect, Malham Cove was busy when we arrived, with lots of tourists and school parties enjoying the sights and heading down to the nearby cafes for refreshments. Simon and I were feeling strong though, and pushed on, climbing the steps comfortably up to the top of the limestone, having allowed a large (and very polite) school party down before we headed up. On reaching the top, I was glad to have made it in daylight, because the limestone pavement was fun and exciting for us to cross, but would have been a potential injury hazard for anyone up there in the dark.
As we rounded a corner away from the cove and began to head up a narrow valley towards the high ground that Malham Tarn sits on, we spotted one of the Spine photographers, and enjoyed a quick chat with him before heading on. We were both a little jealous of his vantage point sat in a large cave overlooking the valley, but pushed on up the slope towards the tarn, where we had both agreed to use the full 1/2 hour stopping time allowed to get a dehydrated meal made up and inside us, as it was approaching evening.
We pushed on up to Malham Tarn, stopping briefly to tell a family that it was maybe not wise to try and stroke or chase the cows or their calves in a field we were walking through (well, I say ‘tell’, when in fact I mean ‘shouted at them to stop’). As we approached the woods near the tarn itself, with the stately home visible on the far side, we came across a friend of Simon’s who works for the National Trust and who had been working at the site that afternoon. It was nice to walk alongside him and have a change of conversation as we headed towards the mini-CP, where he said his goodbye and headed home. We were welcomed into the mini-CP by the team there, quickly provided with cups of tea and they then kindly made up our dehydrated meals for us. I quickly wolfed down my 500 calorie pulled pork offering from Real Turmat (highly recommended, if you’re looking at this kind of food, it was delicious) and Simon tucked into his vegetable chilli before we were ushered out of the door as the half-hour time limit approached. As we left the mini-CP, I knew that we were about to head into the evening and the second night, with all of its demons, but I was happy to have had a ‘main meal’ and the warmth and energy that that provided.
Our next big target was Fountains Fell, and Simon warned that it had a number of false summits on the way up. I was ok with this, but felt that the lack of sleep was definitely starting to creep in now to create a bit of lethargy in me. At this point, we were leapfrogging back and forth with another Spiner (Phillip) as we approached the foot of Fountains Fell. Passing a farm with Phillip in front of us, I noticed that he seemed to have a new companion who was jogging along ahead of him and encouraging him to follow. Wondering if this was a hallucination, I mentioned Phillip’s new friend (a Jack Russell cross of some description) to Simon, to see if he was seeing the same as me. Simon’s response was one of pure relief that I was seeing it as well, because he had assumed it was his own hallucination!
Over the next few miles, as we leapfrogged with Phillip on our way up Fountains Fell, the dog continued to do the same for whichever group was in front - jogging ahead along the Pennine Way and looking back to make sure we were following, before then heading on further again. Our new little guide was fantastic, providing the clearest and driest route along the path and always enthusiastically showing us the way. We kept waiting for it to turn back and head home, but for mile after mile it kept going on ahead of us.
As we came off the back of Fountains Fell, Simon and I stopped for a brief sit down and a snack, and the dog came back for a quick stroke and a fuss. It was incredibly friendly and well behaved, and we assumed it would now head back over to the farm we had first seen it near. But as we waited, Phillip overtook us again, and the dog took off again as his guide down towards the road, beyond which Pen-Y-Ghent loomed in the background.
Having rested, we cracked on again and start the walk towards the base of Pen-Y-Ghent. By this time, I was really suffering from the lack of sleep, and the sheer amount of time spent on my feet since the previous morning’s race start. I told Simon that I didn’t think I could make it all the way to Hardraw without some form of rest stop, and we discussed whether we were best to do this before or after conquering the steep climb and descent of Pen-Y-Ghent. Somehow, the clear stages of getting to the base of the climb, getting up it, getting across the top, and then getting down the descent into Horton in Ribblesdale really helped with my mindset, as they were not just a single long slog, and so we decided to push on.
Around 2/3 of the way up the steep climb towards the summit, our friend the dog guide suddenly appeared again. We had assumed it had headed back to the farm, but here it was around 5 miles from where we first picked it up, happily bounding along the Pennine Way as it made its way up the steep slopes and bouldering sections. At this point, we learned that the dog’s name was Bob (from a dog-walker who was out with her two children and had had the common sense to actually look on his tag, which we hadn’t done!), but that actually he seemingly wasn’t from the farm at all, but from another nearby village. She kindly agreed to take him and call his owners with the number on his tag and try to get him home, while we ploughed on across the top and down towards Horton in Ribblesdale, where we had decided we were going to take our rest before the final push into Hardraw.
Now, I don’t know exactly what I was expecting to find in Horton as a place to take our rest - perhaps some 5* hotel that had laid open one or two of its suites for Spiners to take a short rest from their travels, or just a bus stop that had a bench that we could lay on, or even just a dry public toilet floor that we could lay down on for 15 minutes. Unfortunately, Horton had none of these to offer us on our arrival, and instead Simon and I resigned ourselves to each sitting on a toilet in a cubicle in the public toilets, with our bags resting on the baby changing table outside and our poles leaned against the wall, as we tried to get some rest.
There followed around 20 of the most bizarre minutes of my life, as the motion-sensor lighting in the toilet block switched itself off, plunging us into what should have been a restful darkness, only for the plumbing to start making noises that would make a horror movie director wince. This was soon followed by the lights coming back on again as a fellow Spiner entered to use the urinals, while seemingly listening to a strange podcast and whistling a little tune. As you might imagine, all of this blended into some very weird half-awake-half-asleep dreams/thoughts, and when I finally gave up on getting proper rest and walked out of the toilets, I was feeling about as rested as if I’d just gone 9 rounds with Mike Tyson.
Rested or not, there was really no alternative than to push on, so Simon and I grabbed a quick snack from the kind volunteers in Horton and headed on into the night towards Cam End and the dreaded Cam High Road. I say the ‘dreaded’ Cam High Road, although at the time I didn’t know enough to dread it, and was actually quite looking forward to a path with firm footing. What I didn’t really realise was just how long the 16 miles along that path and down into Hawes would take, how much the focus on just the area in front of me lit by my chest and head torches would demoralise me, and how each mile would feel like ten.
All I wanted was to be done with this section. I was approaching 42 hours without any sleep, and having been almost continually on the move, and my body and mind were both now telling me that they were very unhappy about it. The path kept working its way upwards, and every time we thought we had reached the crest and would start our descent into Hawes, we would find a new section that we needed to climb. At one point, Simon and I sat down for a break on a large rock at the side of the track and admitted to one another how little we were enjoying this section. We agreed at that point that neither of us enjoyed the night sections, and so I did some rapid mental maths over the next section of the endless track (well, it felt rapid, but it probably took quite a while and helped to pass some time). At the end of all my mental calculations, I broached the subject with Simon; if we started as close to dawn as possible each day going forward, I figured that we could finish each leg not long after sunset on the same day, allowing us to maximise the daylight, minimise our time running in the dark, and even allow us around 3 hours of sleep a night. Simon did some mental maths of his own over the next section and came to the same conclusion, and we agreed to this as our Plan A going forward.
This new plan lifted my spirits a bit, which got us to the top of the descent to Hawes a little more quickly (and without any real hallucinations for me, which was a bonus - although Simon later said he was having quite a few!)
The descent into Hawes was what I would imagine the Somme would have been like if it had been placed on an angle of approximately 45 degrees. The mud was unbelievable, the visibility incredibly low, the bogs constant, and the resulting half-walk, half-slide to the bottom was accompanied by some of the most colourful language you can possibly imagine from both of us. Somehow I managed to keep my feet during the slippery descent, but Simon was less lucky, falling a couple of times and only saved from injury by a combination of the soft ground and his backpack breaking his fall.
As we entered Hawes, we caught up with Peter Hemings-Bagguley, who seemed to be suffering the effects of sleep deprivation as well. Peter assured us that 48 hours without sleep was ‘fine’, but it was when you got to 72 that is got really messy. Judging from some of the other random things Peter was saying at this point, Simon and I decided that we might not take his word for this, as 46 hours definitely seemed to be doing some weird things to his brain just like it was to ours! We pushed on together and, as I started to feel strong again (a pattern that would repeat itself immediately before each CP from then onwards), I eventually caught up with our friend Phillip, although obviously now without his guide, Bob the dog. Phillip had done this section before and knew the way into Hardraw, so it was nice to fall into step with him and close out what had without doubt been the longest night of my life by walking into the CP and into the reception area tent.
I have never been so happy to see a plastic chair and to be offered a bowl of warm water for my feet and a cup of tea! Simon and I had decided to avoid eating anything big before getting some sleep, so both of us got our recovery shakes into us, cleaned up our feet, got our kit together and asked to be shown where we could sleep. My feet were in remarkably good shape, but I was a little worried that the wrinkles in them may develop into something more serious in time, so was keen to get as much air to them as possible during our time in the CP.
The accommodation at Hardraw turned out to be one-person tents, each of which had a sizeable porch for you to put your drop bag in while you were inside the sleeping section. After two nights without sleep, this was like someone showing me into a suite at the Ritz. I rolled out and pumped up my air mat, threw my sleeping bag on top, set my alarm for 3 hours, and was asleep before my head had hit my improvised pillow (some of my spare clothes stuffed into a dry bag).
I woke with my alarm to find it fully daylight outside, made a few changes to the kit in my pack (this was a huge advantage of having the drop bag in the porch of the tent) and made my way to the main admin tent to grab some food and take a good look at my feet.
I was amazed by what just 3 hours’ sleep had achieved for them, with the deepest wrinkles now just surface marks on the sole of my foot, no blisters or signs of rubbing, and nothing else to really give me any worries. I thanked my lucky stars (and my tube to Trench cream, Injinji socks and my trusty Inov8 Trialfly G270s), went through my pre-start ritual of sorting my feet ahead of getting a couple of bowls of delicious porridge and another cup of tea inside me ready for the day ahead.
Leg 3 - Hardraw to Middleton-in-Teesdale
Simon and I left Hardraw together and immediately turned towards the long, slow climb up Great Shunner Fell. Both of us were feeling fully refreshed after our rest though, and were really happy with how our legs and feet had recovered ready for the shortest leg of the event. Our plan was now to get into CP3 outside Middleton in the quickest time possible, to minimise the amount of time we would have to spend moving in the dark, and to give us the greatest chance to enjoy the sights during the daylight.
We met a number of tourists on our way up Great Shunner Fell and all commented on the madness of the Spine event, and wished us well on our journey.
One of these conversations actually ended up happening twice, as we passed a young guy walking with two friends as we made our way off the back of Great Shunner Fell. A little further down the hill, we stopped to change layers, as the sun was getting warmer, and then moved on before the three had caught us up. About ten minutes later, however, hey had a good chance to catch us up for a chat, because Simon realised he had put down his Garmin eTrex GPS during our brief stop, and had left it on a rock! He dropped his pack and I waited while he jogged back up the hill to retrieve it. By the time he jogged back (marvelling at how light he felt without his pack on), the three had caught us up and I was able to have a nice chat with them. It turned out that the lad was walking the full length of the Pennine Way while carrying his full kit (tent, sleeping bag etc included) and that on this day his friends had joined him to walk a section. Again, they were shocked by what The Spine race involved and we had a brief chat before Simon and I pushed on again. Little conversations like this really help to break up the long days, and having a few people on this section in the daylight really reassured me that we had made the right decision to switch to concentrating on daytime travel wherever possible.
The journey from here up to Tan Hill dragged a bit, and I could feel myself flagging, so got some guarana caffeine chews into me to try and perk me up. The ground was wet and boggy on this section, and we were relieved to see the Tan Hill Inn coming into view when it appeared on the road crossing ahead. Simon assured me that the section beyond here was notoriously the most boggy on the whole course, so I was looking forward to getting a bit of a break, some food and then kicking on for the next section.
As we arrived into the inn, we were greeted by two volunteers, one of whom seemed unduly pleased to see me. “You’re Alex Morley, right?” she asked. “Er, yes” was about all I could muster as a reply, wondering how she might know me and if my usually terrible memory for names was about to come into full flow again. “You’re the spreadsheet guy! I was hoping I could see you to say thank you for your race spreadsheet - I’ve found it so useful.” I think if my face wasn’t already wind and sun-battered from 56 hours outside, my blushing would have been more obvious, but I felt my sun-dried cheeks crack into a wide grin from knowing that my sheet had been useful to someone.
Simon and I were a bit disappointed to find that the inn stopped serving food for the hour that we had arrived (4-5pm, in case anyone needs to know for future reference) but this disappointment was short-lived once we tried the delicious lentil soup that they had laid on for the Spiners. I have no idea what they put in that soup (I am still thinking of asking them for the recipe), but I have never seen a group of people so unanimously complimentary of a bowl of soup as the Spiners we sat with and spoke with later in the day.
While I sat and ate my soup and bread, and drank my pint of fresh orange and lemonade, I had a brief chat with Pete, the guy who Simon and I had caught up with in Hawes the night before. He had set off quite a while before us that morning, but it was clear from how he sat there without his shoes and socks on that his feet were suffering. It later transpired that Pete had decided to change his shoes at Hardraw from the ones he’d been wearing on Legs 1 & 2, as he wanted to put something dry on. Unfortunately, something about his new shoe and sock combination had obviously not worked for him, and his feet had taken a real battering between Hardraw and Tan Hill. By the time Pete reached CP3 at Middleton in Teesdale, they were absolutely ruined, he had de-gloved his little toe on one foot and had an enormous flap of skin hanging off the heel. Unfortunately, this was game over for Pete and he had to pull out there.
For me, something about the combination of the caffeine chews, the incredible soup, the lemonade and the chocolate bar I ate at Tan Hill lit a fire under me, and as Simon and I left the inn, I couldn’t have felt stronger (well, for someone who had covered 125 miles or so, anyway!)
We pushed on over the boggy moorland, making a conscious decision not to try and keep our feet dry, but just to avoid the deepest and most dangerous looking bogs. This tactic worked well, and we moved well as we headed into the evening.
Just as the sugar hit was starting to wear off and we were flagging a bit, we arrived at a farm with a full barn area set aside for travellers along the Pennine Way. They had a microwave, kettle, chairs and every food stuff you could possibly want, from dried noodles and tea bags through to packets of crisps and some absolute classic chocolate bars. They had a box for donations, but there were no prices on anything - it was just left to you to give what you thought was reasonable.
We decided a 15-minute stop would be well spent here, and grabbed some supplies, while I put £10 in the donations box. These kinds of places along the route really are something else, and we were hugely appreciative of the people who put it all together.
While we were stopped here, we shared the space with a number of Spiners who we would end up leapfrogging throughout the rest of the race; Jan Nouwens, James Holloway, Jen Wilson, Dave Ellis and Sean Higgins. We all marvelled at the array of foods and drinks on offer and had a good chat about how we were all doing, before setting off again in dribs and drabs into the growing dusk.
The section from here down to the river Tees was largely over farmland and some more boggy moorland, but a few highlights stand out in my memory - particularly moving through fields of wild flowers and the beautiful evening light.
As we made our way alongside the river Tees, two checkpoint volunteers came out to meet us and guide us in the last 1/2 mile or so. This was great, as again it changed up the conversation and reminded me of how strong I was feeling still. Here is was, the best part of 150 miles in, and I was still moving well without any specific aches or pains.
The CP at Middleton was probably my favourite. Everyone always talks about Alston and the lasagne, but for me Middleton was a real highlight. I was greeted with a big hug from Jill Cooper, who is a member of the same online running community as me, and who had been for watching me, hoping to be on shift when I arrived.I’m not sure she knew how bad I no doubt smelled as she leaned in, but she also probably doesn’t know how much some physical contact from another human meant after three days on my feet. We were then treated to cups of tea and food as we dried off our feet, checked for any blisters, and generally planned for getting some sleep. While we did this, Jan, James, Jen, Dave and Sean all arrived as well, and the laughter and chat increased immediately. It was at this point that CP volunteer Jen O’Neill accused Simon and I of behaving like an old married couple with how much we were taking the p*ss out of each other and making jokes at each other’s expense. It was worth it though, because the atmosphere in the CP was almost of a party, which I think was partly because we were all feeling that a finish was now feasible, despite there being nearly 120 miles to go to Kirk Yetholm.
At this stage, I also spotted that James had arrived using just one pole, and asked him if this was his preference or if he was missing a pole. James explained that his other pole had been broken, like mine, and so he had had to make do with just one. This felt like fate to me, as I had my drop bag open at my feet, with my one working spare pole staring up at me. Even more fortuitous was that I was about the same height as James, so he happily accepted my replacement pole, which he used for the next three days all the way to the finish line.
At Middleton, you have the option of either sleeping in a bed within one of the bunk rooms or in a tent outside. Both Simon and I opted for a tent (though we did confirm to Jen that we wanted separate tents!) and once we’d filled up on food and drinks, we were accompanied by two more CP volunteers who kindly carried our drop bags out to the tents.
As it was already quite late and the camp site wasn’t exclusively for Spine use, I felt it would be bad form to run my electric pump to put up my air bed, so decided to just sleep in my sleeping bag on the tent floor. As it happened, I regretted this when I woke up a bit cold in the middle of my planned 3 hours of sleep, but it didn’t massively impact my sleep quality, as I was exhausted!
Leg 4: Middleton in Teesdale to Alston
Simon and I each grabbed a quick breakfast and another cup or two of tea before heading out into the growing light as we left Middleton CP, receiving a wave off again from Jill, after a bit more abuse and banter from the CP team.
This section starts alongside the river Tees, and quickly climbs alongside the Low Force and High Force waterfalls.
The sun was shining down on us by this point, in a sign of how it was going to be for the rest of the day, and we moved quickly alongside the river, enjoying the views along the valley and the changing landscape. From the industrial backdrop of the old quarry to the peaceful shallows where fly fishermen stood on their waders while we crossed the foot bridge and made our way along the river banks, it was a beautiful landscape to travel through on a sunny day. It was incredible how much this contrasted with the first day’s weather!
After passing through a field of belted cows, we quickly came upon the boulder fields we had heard about being on this section and the poles went away for the first time since Day 1 - trying to scramble over these big boulders alongside the river was tricky enough without adding the peril of spearing one another or ourselves with a piece of sharpened aluminium! The boulders actually made for a nice change from the rolling grasslands alongside the river, and before long they led us to the foot of Cauldron Snout.
Around the foot of the climb, we were met by Paul Nelson, a veteran of multiple Spine races and a friend of Simon’s. Paul was volunteering on this year’s Spine, and had happened to be nearby when he saw our trackers showing us approaching, so popped out to say hi. Paul skipped up the climb along a route that he preferred, while Simon and I took the more conventional route up to where one of the official photographers was waiting to capture a shot of us with the dramatic background of the falls. Apparently, a day earlier the falls were raging with the huge volume of water from the past few days, but it was still moving with some noise as we climbed past it, enjoying the dramatic views as we moved upstream and past the huge dam above.
Paul walked with us for a short while as we passed Birkdale, leaving us as we started to climb the next section and set our sights on High Cup Nick. Simon was quite excited about this part, and I will admit that my lack of any kind of recceing or real research of the route showed in my naivety around this, as I didn’t really know what to expect. As we arrived at the edge of the huge array of cliffs though, I was really happy that we’d made it there in good weather and in the daylight, so we could really enjoy the view for all it was. We took a couple of selfies and posing tourist shots before moving on, enjoying the route as it made its way around the edge of the valley and then headed down towards Dufton. Both of us were feeling pretty good at this point, and weren’t sure how long we would spend in Dufton, but we were both looking forward to a brief sit down and maybe a treat from the Post Box Pantry.
Arriving into Dufton, we were greeted with the kind of scene that I think both of us had imagined when we signed up to the Summer Spine; a beautiful village green was bathed in sunshine, the Spine volunteers walked over to meet us from their seats by the Post Box Pantry, where they were surrounded by other Spiners enjoying snacks, drinks and a rest in the sun, while laughing and joking together. This wasn’t something we could pass up taking part in, and as we got closer and saw that Dan Orford and David Larkham were about to tuck into two cheeseburgers each, we both knew we had to have some of the same medicine!
And so it came to be that we spent a little bit of time in Dufton, eating cheeseburgers, scones with jam and clotted cream, and drinking a pot of tea each. We chatted with our fellow runners as they came in and those who were there at our arrival headed out, sharing stories of the morning and what we were looking forward to on the next section - even sharing supplies, including Simon’s bucket of Vaseline being raided by a walker who asked if he could borrow some. Quite how he planned to give it back after borrowing it, I don’t know, but Simon graciously handed over the large pot as the walker hobbled inside through obvious chafing pain!
To say that this experience was like a little slice of heaven would be no exaggeration, but somehow we managed to pull ourselves away and made our way up the road towards the three big climbs that we knew were coming. I had eaten some more of my guarana chews just before we headed towards the Post Box Pantry, and these kicked in as we made our way uphill to the first of what must have been around 50 false summits of Knock Fell.
The effect of Guarana on me (or more likely the caffeine in it) seems to be one of a real mood lift, and this translates into a feeling of being able to move more easily and of strength. This was brilliant as we climbed Knock Fell and I powered on up, waiting briefly for Simon at the top before we pushed on again up towards Great Dun Fell, the second in the trilogy of fells for the afternoon.
Great Dun Fell has a large radar station on the top of it. Apparently it’s used by the Civil Aviation Authority, but it was much more exciting to think it was some sort of secret military installation (well, as secret as three massive golf balls on top of a hill can be, anyway), and Simon and I decided to pause alongside it out of the wind to grab a quick snack to fuel us up Cross Fell. As we sat there enjoying the views and the sugary treats from our bags (Simon had found some Rowntrees Randoms in his bag, which seemed to have a similar effect on him as Guarana had on me… or maybe just similar to what happens if you give a whole pack of randoms to a 7-year-old!), Jan and James came up behind us and passed us with a bit of a chat. They were both moving really strongly and I did joke that I might have to take my spare pole back from James if he was going to use it to beat me to the finish!
After our short break, Simon and I pushed on across to Little Dun Fell, then up again to the summit of Cross Fell, where we revelled briefly in the moment of having submitted the highest point on the Pennine Way. We knew it was largely downhill from here to CP4 at Alston, but we had a little errand to do before then. When we had stopped at Malham Tarn, we had got chatting to John Bamber, who had said that he needed to know whether the cable he’d run into Greg’s Hut in January to plug into some solar panels was still in the correct place. We pointed out that, all being well, we would be going that way, so we could take a look for him. There was a lot of joking from the other Spine team volunteers that there was absolutely no chance we would remember, but Simon was determined, so we headed in to Greg’s Hut as we descended off the back of Cross Fell.
To be honest, we probably would have stopped here anyway, because it’s such an icon of the Spine races, but as the sun was out and just dropping a little in the sky, the scene was absolutely idyllic as I sat on the wall outside the hut and looked over the valley and Ousby Fell while Simon used his Nokia brick phone to take a photo of the cables for John, as promised. I have to say, the hut looks a lot prettier from the outside than the inside, but I can definitely see how attractive it must be when there is a howling winter gale outside and John has got a stove lit and his famous noodles on!
As we made our way on from Greg’s Hut towards Garrigill, we were both starting to feel the effort of the day, and our speed dropped a bit, but as we approached the village we were met again by Paul, who had seen us approaching and thought he’d say hi. We also passed a couple who lived nearby and knew Simon from previous runs, so it was nice to have a couple of new faces to greet as we headed through the village, up along the diverted path and onto the fields towards Alston.
The sun was setting now, and as Simon and I followed alongside the South Tyne river, over the wet grassy fields and through the various hedge-lined areas and copses of trees, we were treated to a beautiful sky and even saw a barn owl heading out to hunt and a couple of bats swooping overhead.
Unfortunately, these things couldn’t lift Simon’s mood and it was clear that he had started to get what we later heard called ‘checkpoint fever’; where you’re so close to your next stop, but it somehow never seems to get any closer. Simon was flagging, so I decided to take the lead and put my chest torch on to push on ahead, making sure I could then hold gates for him if I got to them first, and generally just hopefully make the journey pass more quickly for him. As we got closer still, I decided to use a tactic that my wife once used on a training run with me when I first started running. She was considerably fitter and faster than me at the time and for the whole of our first training run together, she stayed about 2 steps ahead of me, making me feel like I had to catch up. With me, this was a terrible motivation technique (which she later realised and has fortunately never tried since!) but I still thought a bit of anger might help pull Simon along to Alston anyway, so I forged on slightly, arriving at the CP only a couple of minutes ahead of him, so that he always had my light to aim for. After we both arrived, Simon said that my approach hadn’t upset him too much, but that he had felt a little like he was dying and the light was moving away from him rather than towards him! I hadn’t meant to create quite such a morbid analogy for him, but we’d made it to the CP, which was the main thing.
Alston was very busy as we arrived, with a large number of Spiners having arrived not long before us and heading for their beds, or heading out after having had some food and rest. We had decided to get some food, a shower (again, not together) and then try and grab another 3 hours’ sleep before heading out just ahead of dawn for the next leg.
We sat and ate a couple of portions of Alston’s famous lasagne (not as many as Dan ‘two cheeseburgers’ Orford, obviously, but enough to fill us up) and chatted with the other Spiners about how they were getting on. Simon also chatted with the lead volunteer for the CP who was looking to run the Cape Wrath Ultra, which Simon had completed before. As we finished our food, some others came in from completing their leg, and so Simon and I asked about what we needed to do to get somewhere to sleep. As the CP was so busy, we were told to grab our showers first and then they’d try and find us a spot once we were done.
Now, I’m sure the showers at Alston YHA aren’t quite as luxurious as my memory now has them, but the one I was in was large, hot and powerful, and as an added bonus someone had left a bottle of Radox shower gel in there for everyone to feel even more luxurious. A good scrub down in there left me feeling a world better and I checked myself over for any rubs, blisters or other things to worry about. Incredibly, I still seemed to be doing ok, with just the two tiny blisters on my little toes, both of which seemed to be holding up well after my treatment of them at the end of Leg 2.
As I came downstairs, I found Simon was there as well and we were shown to a bunk room to get some sleep. We were told to keep as quiet as possible, because due to the overcrowding in the other rooms, we were going to bunk in with the one woman who was currently sleeping in the CP. this turned out to be Linn Davies Sahlstrom, who would go on to finish as 3rd female. She must have been sound asleep as Simon and I crawled into our sleeping bags on our bunks and set our alarms for 3 hours. I got quite hot during the night and tossed and turned a little as a result, but overall I get a good amount of sleep (well, relatively speaking obviously!) Simon wasn’t quite as fortunate, and didn’t get quite such good quality sleep, apparently, but we both had enough to feel fairly refreshed the next morning as we then grabbed some breakfast and sorted our kit for the leg ahead.
Somehow, the infamous checkpoint time vortex kicked in at this point and suddenly we found ourselves being told that we were approaching our time limit in the CP… where had 6 hours gone to?! Well, I guess they went into eating lasagne, chatting, showering, sleeping, eating breakfast… well, you get the picture. We rushed through grabbing our stuff for the leg ahead and were then quickly into kit check, which was without any drama before we headed out into the dawn for the next leg to Bellingham.
Leg 5: Alston to Bellingham
Having headed rapidly out of the CP at Alston, I was hoping that the garage in the village might be open and provide an opportunity to buy some lip salve. I had been suffering from chapped lips since somewhere before Middleton, and they had got progressively drier and more cracked since. Unfortunately, we were up and out too early for the garage to be open, so my needs weren’t to be met, but it did instead afford us the opportunity to watch the sunrise and the beautiful sky over Alston itself.
The first section of Leg 5 wasn’t one that I knew at all well, and what I’d heard about it didn’t fill me with joy - I’d heard that it was wet, boggy, and over lots of fields with stiles on the various boundaries. Having started the day with lovely dry feet, this wasn’t exactly what either Simon or I were looking for, and we tried to skirt the bogs at the start of the day, but within very little time we had given up on this and returned to our previous practice of just ploughing through and then enjoying each time we got a dry spot.
Despite its reputation, this section actually had some quite pretty sections, and I enjoyed the sections down by the river and weaving through some small sections of woodland. Before too long though, I was starting to flag a little - not physically, particularly, but mentally, as I was really looking forward to the sections where Hadrian’s Wall started, and I knew there was still a fair way to go before then. This was when I broke out my secret nutritional (and motivational) weapon; Maynards Wine Gums. Now, it’s not that Wine Gums are a particular favourite of mine - in fact, I can pretty much take them or leave them when comparing with other sweets - but there is a history here. My brother Iain was Mr Maynard’s greatest wine vintage sampler; he loved Wine Gums and always got them instead of an Easter Egg and every Christmas from our mum. When he got really sick with cancer, there was a period where he was unable to eat solid foods, but he was still able to suck on a Wine Gum and enjoy the flavour and texture of it (plus, no doubt the sugar!) So for me, these always create a bit of a connection with Iain, and opening them up and sharing a few with Simon as we walked along paths that I know Iain would have enjoyed hiking, I felt that more than ever. This really lifted my mood (also probably helped by the sugar hit) and we powered on a bit more.
Unfortunately, I was only as generous to Simon with my Wine Gums as he had been to me with his Randoms the day before, so he didn’t get quite the same lift as me from this, and it was clear not long afterwards that he was in a bit of a low spot mood-wise. I opened up my phone and looked to try and message his wife Carol to see if she could give him a call to raise his mood. Unfortunately, Carol and I didn’t have any connections on Facebook or similar, so this wasn’t a possibility, but I did find a very funny status from a mutual contact that I decided to read to Simon to see if it would help. Within minutes, we were both crying with laughter, in the way that only truly exhausted people can do when sharing a number of jokes, and this good mood powered us on our way towards Thirlwall Castle and the promise of the car park not far beyond where there is a small shop.
The shop in question turned out to be a little slice of heaven, serving all of the essentials needed by a weary ultra-runner; coffees, cold drinks, chocolate bars, crisps, sandwiches (the kind lady even offering to give up her own lunch when the sandwiches had run out), ice creams, and (best of all) lip salve!
We weren’t the only ones partaking in the pleasures of the car park shop (probably not its official name!) as it seemed to be a mini Spine break area, with a few of us enjoying a sit at the picnic benches in the sun and recharging before heading onto the section of the path with Hadrian’s Wall and its associated short, sharp climbs and descents.
I had been looking forward to this section of the run ever since I signed up for the event. When I ran my 100-miler along Hadrian’s Wall and home to Tynemouth back in 2020, I had crossed paths with Sabrina Verjee as she headed down the Pennine Way as she headed for her Women’s FKT, so I knew the paths were shared for a way. I love this part of the country, with its mixture of rolling greenery, rugged outcrops, history and aggressive little hills. As Simon and I started to make our way over it, I was therefore in fantastic spirits (helped by the sugar rush from the ice cream and the soothing effect of the lip salve!)
We powered along this section, with it really appealing to my own preference of visual goals; it is easy to set your sights on the top of the next climb, or the bottom of the next mini-valley, and then head for that and achieve it before setting your next goal. At one point we bumped into Simon’s wife Carol, who was out walking their two dogs with a couple of friends. This was another welcome boost for morale, as was the spectator who had their boot open as we arrived, filled with treats that they told us to help ourselves to.
We picked up a bit of extra water from one of the Spine volunteers along the route, who warned us about a TV crew who seemed to be trying to do some filming in Sycamore Gap and who might ask us to wait while they flew their drone, and then we pushed on, determined to go through the gap at our own pace and enjoy this part of the route no matter who was trying to film what!
As we made our way along this next section, we found ourselves leapfrogging with a couple of other pairs of runners; Jan and James, Dave and Dan, and Mael and Linn. It was funny how we each had our strengths and weaknesses in terms of climbing and descending, scrabbling, hiking and running. Somehow it seemed to pretty much even out across us all, but when each of the other groups stopped for a short nap or break, Simon and I felt strong and kept pushing onwards.
When we got to Sycamore Gap, we were almost disappointed not to have to argue with the TV crew, but instead we’re just warned that there might be a low flying drone about. We walked through the mini-valley and I took a quick photo of the stump; a sorry comparison to the photo I have of me under the beautiful tree back in the dusk in 2020.
As you leave the wall behind and turn left to climb up through some fields, you come across the edge of some forestry land and have to make your way through the trees and tree stumps of this managed forest area. Needless to say, after our nice break on the firm paths of Hadrian’s Wall, this took us back to boggy ground pretty quickly. I’m not sure if it was this or just how long we had been up and about, but Simon and I definitely started to flag at this point, and it wasn’t long before Jan and James passed us again.
I took on some of my trusty Veloforte caffeine chews and waited for the miracle energy to hit, but I knew it would take a while, so we trudged on towards Hornystead Farm, where we knew the kind farmer laid on food and drinks for weary Pennine Way travellers and dot-watched throughout the Spine events.
Arriving at Hornystead, we were greeted by not only Jan and James, but the owner who offered us tea and coffee, before then producing fruit cake and other options as Dave and Dan followed us in.
By the time Mael and Linn arrived, we were already sat on camping and picnic chairs, tucking in and enjoying a laugh together while we prepared for the last push of the day. I have a huge soft spot for fruit cake (and huge soft spots around my sides as a direct result of it!) so this was heaven for me, but before we could get too comfortable, enormous swarms of midges arrived to encourage us on our way. Jan, James and Linn decided to stay a little longer, and Dave, Dan and Mael were sorting out their gear as Simon and I set off into the evening sun, keen to get moving away from the midges.
We moved well over this next section and I felt the combination of a little rest, the fruit cake and the caffeine kicking in as my mood lifted and my legs felt strong again. After a minor navigational error where we found ourselves looking at crossing a thigh-deep river and decided maybe we were meant to use the bridge around 200 yards to our left, we were joined by Dan, Dave and Mael and moved forward as a 5-some as we approached Shitlington Crags.
I was feeling incredibly strong now, jogging small sections and feeling like the end of the day was in sight and then knowing we only had one more day to get through to the finish. The conversation with the new members of the group really helped as well, lifting our energy further and putting us all in a brilliant mood with loads of laughs and shared stories and histories between us.
Some particular highlights included discussing our motivations for doing something crazy like the Spine, and then a discussion about hobbies outside of running. This all sounds very banal, but I honestly don’t remember the last time I laughed as hard as when I found out that one of Dan’s favourite pastimes was making glazed ring donuts… for a man whose chafing had resulted in him ‘glazing’ his own ‘donut’ liberally with Sudocrem every hour or so since the end of Day 1, this just seemed too perfect a hobby! As a result of this kind of childish humour and camaraderie, this section was probably the most enjoyable of all for me - I was feeling strong, I was in good company, the sun was setting to create a beautiful scene as we created the crags, and I really believed I was going to get to the finish of this adventure.
I almost jogged into Bellingham (well, this is doubtless an exaggeration, but I moved strongly at least) and was a little ahead of the group as we were met by the CP volunteers and shown to the reception tent where I was immediately given a chair, a bowl for my feet, a cup of tea, and then was being spoken to by one of the kind volunteers talking me through the menu options by the time Simon arrived. I was getting such close attention that Simon worried I was hurt or feeling unwell, but I was just the lucky one who arrived first!
Once I’d had my delicious vegetable stew with jacket potato, I was ready to get into a tent and away from the infamous Bellingham midges.
Simon and I agreed to get another 3 hours’ sleep, and that we would set off at a time the next morning to try and get to the finish line by around 9pm, to hopefully grab a drink at the hotel before last orders.
I was shown to my tent and sorted myself out, checking over my feet, changing into some different clothes for sleep and getting my mat pumped up and sleeping bag out.
As I lay there in my bag, I was still buzzing from the combination of the caffeine and the fun of the last 4 miles of the day, so sent a few messages to friends and family to pass the time as I chilled out, before settling down to another deep and comfortable sleep.
Waking up the next morning, I went about sorting my kit for the day and was pleased to see that my feet had recovered really well again from the little rest.
Simon and I each grabbed a quick breakfast, got our bottles filled by the ever-attentive CP volunteers, got a quick kit-check done, and then set out into the dark to start moving before the sunrise on this final leg of the adventure.
Leg 6: Bellingham to Kirk Yetholm
Leaving Bellingham, Simon and I quickly settled into our normal pace and dropped down beside the river before climbing up towards some more of the dreaded boggy moorland that seemed to be the basic surface of the Pennine Way this summer. Making our way across one moor, we were caught up by Dave and Dan, who had left Bellingham just after us. We travelled together with them for a bit, which was great to pick up on conversations from the night before and learn a bit more about one another.
Dave was having some knee issues at one point, so Dan and I did a bit of Dr YouTube searching to find an appropriate taping strategy and stopped together to help him out. I used this as a chance to take my insoles out of my shoes and empty the entire garden-worth of soil that seemed to have become trapped underneath it from the various bogs of the morning.
We pushed on together up some steep climbs towards where we knew the path entered the edge of Kielder Forest. As we came to a minor road just before the start of the forest, Simon and I stopped to grab some food and a drink, while Dave and Dan pushed on. This would be the last time we saw either of them until the finish line, as they both stayed just ahead of us until then.
The section between here and CP5.5 is a bit of a blur, as we climbed and dropped various sections of forest track and navigated the interesting differences between my GPX file for the whole route and Simon’s which was only for this leg. His was invariably right, and fortunately the navigation was pretty easy as we headed down the hill to the camp site at Blakehope which forms CP5.5.
I was feeling good again as we came into the campsite and were greeted by John Bamber and 3 medics from the Spine team. I think the medics were almost disappointed that there were three of them and we literally needed nothing tending to. Fortunately, they were happy to take care of our dehydrated meals for us, and it turns out that the 30 minutes allowed at this CP is exactly right to make a dehydrated pasta bolognese, go to the toilet, eat said pasta bolognese, refill drinks, have a bit of a chat (including Simon showing John the photos from Greg’s Hut that confirmed his solar panel cables were still in place) and then get on your way again!
While we were in the mini-CP, Jan and James came in and we had a brief chat with them again. Both were in good spirits and we left by saying that we would no doubt see them later on the trail. As it happened, this didn’t happen and this was the last time we would see any of our fellow Spiners until very close to the finish.
We made our way to Byrness and stopped briefly at the church there just to take a look around another Spine landmark before the big climbs started up into the Cheviots.
After crossing the road in Byrness we began the climb in earnest. It starts less steep as it works through some woodland and then approaches a track before the real climbing starts. As we got to the track, we saw a car there and quickly realised that it was Ryan, the official Spine videographer, with his wife and daughter. As Ryan climbed with us and took some videos (not easy for him in the heat while carrying his camera gear after some very long days and nights of his own already during the week) he explained that Chelsey had chosen the two of us to be part of the featured runners group on the daily video and driven to meet us. We chatted with him and played up to the camera about how we weren’t telling our wives about various things on the event (not easy for Simon, given Carol’s history on the race!)
As we reached the top of the climb, Ryan headed back down to pick up his next victims (Jan and James, I believe) and we pushed on for the leg towards Hut 1.
This whole section dragged incredibly for both me and Simon, and I started to worry about how long it was taking us and how much water I had. I have suffered from dehydration only once in my life, but it’s not something I am keen to repeat and, as a heavy sweater, I was worried by the heat of the afternoon. I was also flagging because I had stupidly felt that the 500 calories from the pasta bolognese would keep me going, but hadn’t factored on just how many calories we were burning and my energy was rapidly depleting.
Simon was the first to spot my error and provided a quick fix the short term by opening his pack of Rowntrees Safari Mix (seriously, our event should have been sponsored by Mr Rowntree!)
We decided to fix both issues in the longer term at the same time by stopping at a small brook to use filter bottles to top up our water levels while also throwing in some more food.
Within half an hour, I was a new man and had a strength and confidence that I’d not felt in hours. We stopped briefly at Hut 1 to have a bit more food, and then pushed on for the 6 miles or so towards Hut 2. I could tell that Simon was flagging a bit, and while I was enjoying feeling strong, I was very aware how hard it can be to watch someone disappearing over the horizon, so I made an effort to have a sit down at the top of a couple of longer climbs and get some food and drink into me while Simon caught up. On one of these we both heard the buzzing of Ryan’s drone above us and put in an extra spurt of speed to look good for the video as we each approached the trig point at the top. This sort of thing is just what you need to give you a little boost and a change from the monotony of one foot in front of the other, and as Simon came down from the trig point we bumped fists and powered on our way again towards Hut 2.
There is a particularly steep and long climb immediately before a sharp drop down to Hut 2. I pushed up to the top and waited at a stile at the top for Simon. We had a brief chat and pushed on together, but I could tell he was at a really low ebb at this point. Dropping down the far side towards Hut 2, we were met by Kate, a friend of Simon’s who I also know from the Northern Traverse in 2022, and who has had her fair share of adventures on the Spine route as well. Kate was volunteering at Hut 2 and had seen our dogs approaching, so came out to see us. I told her that I felt Simon was suffering and needed to take on some food, and as we approached the hut, she all but told him to eat something to get him through the last few miles and the last big climb before the finish. This was great, because after he had been so helpful to me earlier in the day and I had spent the late afternoon urging him onwards, I was worried that if I had suggested this, it might have sounded patronising. Simon duly got some food in and we pressed on again after a fairly short stop (not before the question was asked by Kate of the medic at the hut which he preferred treating; feet or genitals!)
The last big pull uphill out of Hut 2 is a long one, and the wind was blowing hard as we crested the summit and started to descend off the back and down towards the valley that would lead us around to Kirk Yetholm. At this point my watch decided to play up for the first time in the whole event (I must have pressed a button for too long or something by accident) and it went through a bit of a period of being frozen and then doing a mini-reboot. I was worried that it would have lost all of the run data, but ten minutes later it was back to normal, having lost none of the data and still recording the run - I love my Fenix!!
Simon and I had agreed to aim for a 9pm finish (I wanted a chance to speak to my daughter Isla before her bed time if at all possible) and I had been trying to tell Simon that we would run the last few miles in once the conditions underfoot allowed it. I had been met by a very skeptical look from him each time I had said this, but I knew from our last 3 miles of the Northern Traverse that our bodies would actually be capable of something since we had been running “within ourselves” to this point to preserve them.
And so it was that we ran every flat or downhill section of the final 4 miles or so into Kirk Yetholm, pushing our legs to give whatever they had as we looked for run able routes along the paths. We passed Rachel Price on the way and I stopped briefly to ask if she was ok as she sat by the side of the track. She responded that she had had a really tough day but that she was ok and that she was determined to make it in. She thanked me for stopping to check on her and I was pleased to see later that she had finished as 2nd woman.
It later transpired that one of our fellow runners Sean, who we had spent the first night with and had seen briefly in Bellingham that morning, was around half a mile ahead of us and saw us start running. This was enough motivation to get him shifting as well, and he pushed on to finish strongly (if slightly sleep-deprived, based on our chats afterwards!)
As we crested the last tarmac hill and could see Kirk Yetholm in front of us, we heard the church bells ringing for 9pm and Simon apologised for us not making it in time for my planned call to Isla. I think I just laughed and said something cheesy like that the bells were the most beautiful sound I had heard and that it was totally worth it to finish together.
We had agreed that I would kiss the wall before Simon, as he had accidentally got tagged as finishing the Northern Traverse one place ahead of me two years previously, so after we ran across the finish line together at about 9:05pm, I pulled my pewter pebble with Iain’s name on it from my pocket and pressed it to the wall ahead of me before placing my lips on it and finishing my adventure. As it happened, Simon somehow still managed to get the place ahead of me in the race record, but I honestly couldn’t care less - this was an adventure that we completed together and helped each other get through pretty much every step of.
The rest of the finish line process is a bit of a blur for me, but I remember a member of the Spine team trying to get some sort of answers in an interview style from me and Simon, but I was a little too emotional to respond much, and Simon seemed confused about why people were talking to him when all he wanted to do was hug his wife and hold his dogs!
I do, however, remember the big hug I got from Jill, the Lonely Goat who I had last seen at Middleton. It was fantastic to have someone there at the finish who understood a bit of my back story and she promised me that there would be time to find somewhere to leave Iain’s pewter pebble near the finish line once I had had a sit down and got myself together.
And so it was that I firstly found myself inside the hotel, sitting down and waiting for my drop bag to arrive, proudly wearing my medal and discussing elements of the finish and feelings with fellow finishers, then on the phone to Clare, where I blubbed some incredibly emotional gratitude to her for being the most amazing and supportive partner I could ever hope for, then drinking a second cup of tea and changing into my Oofo recovery sandals before heading out with Simon and Carol to get a lift to their AirB&B, which they had kindly offered to let me borrow the spare room of for the night until Clare and Isla could collect me the next day.
On the way to the car, I stopped briefly to place Iain’s pebble at the foot of the wall of the Border Hotel, where it can mark the end of my adventure, like the pebble with his name written on it now sits somewhere at the bottom of the North Sea from where I did the same at the end of the Northern Traverse.
What followed that late evening was a short drive to Simon and Carol’s AirB&B, a shower, a beer, a pizza, some (no doubt mindless) chat, and then a fabulous night’s sleep in a luxurious double bed. I obviously knew Simon from two years ago, and had met Carol briefly then as well, but their generosity in this was slightly overwhelming. You make connections on runs like this in a way that you never would in ‘normal’ life. Simon and I discussed everything from work through grief, stress and anxiety, family, weddings, our hopes and dreams for ourselves and our children, and seemingly everything in between. There is a connection there that I will value forever and was a huge part of the adventure itself for me.
The next day, Clare and Isla drove up from Tynemouth to collect me and we pootled home to see our son Joe, who had been playing at a friend’s house, before taking a short walk and enjoying some ice cream in the sun by the beach. It really didn’t sink in what had happened over the past 6 days, but the longer it has gone on, the more proud I have become of what I achieved over those 268 miles - this was an adventure I will never forget.
Lessons Learned / What Went Badly & What Went Well
Ok, having made the blog an absolute behemoth of literary boredom for you, I will try and keep this next section as punchy and to the point as possible:
What Went Badly / Lessons to Learn From
The first thing to say here is ‘very little’. This year’s Summer Spine race had approximately a 55% dropout / DNF rate; apparently the highest of any Summer Spine. As such, a lot of things obviously went wrong for a lot of people and I was very lucky not to be one of them. However, some small elements that I learned from during the race were:
- Waterproof socks really aren’t always all that waterproof. When it is chucking it down and the bogs and puddles are everywhere, it is a lot better to just get wet feet in socks that will jettison the water again afterwards.
- It is easy to forget to eat enough. Even when you think you’re eating enough, you probably aren’t. I lost 2.5kg between the start line and the finish line, and that was once I was fully rehydrated again. My lowest points on the run (excluding the very late night section on night 2 before we got into Hardraw, when I’d been awake for 43 hours or more) were always when I hadn’t eaten enough. Fixing this was remarkably easy, but if I’d not realised the cause early enough, it could have led to a downward spiral.
- Running at night is mentally terrible. If I’m going to enter another long event in the future with shorter cut-offs, I won’t be able to adopt the tactic that Simon and I put in place to maximise daylight by trying to get a ‘decent’ 3 hours of sleep per night. Instead, I will need to get used to the mental side of running at night and find strategies to cope with this and how demoralising it is.
- Whatever food you bring, you will want other things. I felt like I had tested my nutrition pretty well and I’ve been running long enough to know what works for me to keep me moving. However, what I was craving throughout the run changed from day to day and certainly wasn’t always matched by what I had available. Fortunately, I was able to buy some extra bits along the way, but a few things I will make sure I have more of next time are; varieties of sweets and chocolate bars (I had a few of these, but had to buy a few more, as I found myself craving them at times), dried fruit options (I had some great honeyed / maple syrup coasted nuts with some dried fruit, but could have eaten twice as much as I brought), and savoury snacks (I had a few packets of crisps, but I will probably bring some cheddars, Tuc biscuits, Twiglets and other similar options).
What Went Well / Lessons to Repeat
Well, in contrast to the things that went badly, this obviously implies a lot went well, which it would be easy to just shrug off as luck, but a lot of work went into making these things go well, so it’s worth me acknowledging them to remember to do them again on the next adventure:
- Training. Having worked with Marcus Scotney as my coach in 2022 for the Northern Traverse, it made perfect sense to reconnect with him again for this event. Marcus and I get on well and I find his approach to coaching really works well for me. He sets out a clear set of plans for the 4-weekly meso-cycle, and then we work through each one of those with a call during each cycle to check on progress and discuss plans for the next stage and how plans are going for the event itself. Marcus is flexible in his setup of the sessions and fully understands that life sometimes gets in the way of a perfect training plan, working with me to adjust it as necessary as things crop up. I find a lot of my calls with Marcus end up with us talking more about philosophy and psychology than about specific training details, but as you’ll see from my other things that went well, I think this is time very well spent. Over the 7 months of training that Marcus ran for me in the buildup to the Spine, I had a total of two weeks off training; one because of a nasty cold that I picked up on a flight, and one because of a calf niggle that I was struggling to shake. Again, this could be put down to good luck, or more likely down to a well designed training plan that didn’t go too hard too soon, but acclimatised me to the training load again in just the right way to get me in the right shape at the right time for the event. There is no doubt in my mind that I will work with Marcus again when I’m training for my next big challenge.
- Planning. This is something that Simon has laughed with/at me about, but even he admits that a lot of those jokes are because he sees elements of himself in what I do in my planning of an event. For the Spine, I took my race planning/prediction sheet that I had developed for the Northern Traverse and expanded upon it, to make it cover even more elements that I felt I would need to understand and take account of. My new sheet now included details of the checkpoints, my projected times into each of them (that it predicted based on a number of variables), my nutrition calculator and resulting food and hydration needs/plans, my infamous timing tags for each leg, my kit list, food bag labels including nutritional values, and my multi-point checkpoint checklist. This may sound ridiculous, but having this all in one place really helped me to visualise the event and what I would be trying to achieve at each stage. In the end, I stuck to large elements of the plan and finished within 5% of my projected finish time, which I was very happy with. My CP checklist may also have been a bit over the top at 33 points to do each time, but it really did take all of the thinking and worrying out for me and meant I could just look at the sheet, check that I was happy that everything had been ticked, and then move on. My planning extended to trying out my kit and nutrition choices ahead of time, which also get a mention below, but may not have gone so well if I’d not planned and tested them beforehand.
- Kit. This is linked to the planning, and is covered in a lot more detail in the section below, but with the exception of my waterproof socks on Day 1, there wasn’t a single bit of my kit that didn’t perform exactly as I needed and intended it to. I had no chafing, no blisters worth writing home about, I wasn’t ever cold, rarely felt too hot, I didn’t slip any more than I feel I would have in any other shoe choice, didn’t feel that my pack was unduly heavy. Basically, my kit did exactly what it was supposed to, and got me to the finish.
- Pre-Taping. On the Northern Traverse, I found that after a couple of days my pack rubbed along the centre of my spine. Then on some of my training runs with my new pack combo for the Spine, I found that I was getting some rubs around my sides (on my muffin top). Before the race, I covered these each with some K-Tape (double-width for over my spine, normal for my sides), and these stayed on throughout the whole race. I changed the side pieces after my shower at Alston, but the piece running all the way down my spine stayed on unchanged for the duration of the event. I had no rubs or chafing at all, thanks to these. I did have a perfect imprint of the patterning of the tape’s glue on my spine for two full weeks after the event, but that’s a small sacrifice, I think!
- Nutrition and Hydration. Although there were some other bits I would have liked to have with me for variety, the food and drinks I brought all worked brilliantly for me. I made sure I had a For Goodness Shakes recovery shake at every CP, which was something that I actively looked forward to on the approach and that I think really helped to get the right nutrients back into my body quickly. I used Precision Hydration PH1000 in my soft flasks each time I refilled them, and this helped to make sure I had a good balance of minerals along with the water I took in my main bladder in my pack. The ready to eat foods I had gave me energy without being too heavy, so were easy to carry. Finally, the two dehydrated meals I had (in the evening of Day 2 and at lunch time on the final day) were both delicious and full of energy. I used the Real Turmat meals following a recommendation from a friend who does a lot of bike packing and I would highly recommend them to anyone; they are genuinely delicious.
- Decision Making. After my first decision to put on waterproof socks at the last minute turned out to be a mistake, the rest of my decision making on this event really did work pretty well - quite a lot of that is probably down to the next two points of what went well, but we’ll get to that. From the decision early on to run with Simon when we were moving at the same pace but to make no promises to stay together, through the decision early on to change my soaking waterproof socks for my Injinji’s, the decision not to go into any night sections of running alone, the decision not to sleep on night 1 (as per my plan, see above), the decision to try and eat foods that coincided with my body’s expectations for that time of day (see ‘circadian rhythms’ below), the decision to switch to a ‘multi-day event’ approach to getting my sleep at night and do my running during the day, all the way to my decision to work with Simon through to the finish, each and every one seemed to work out in my favour.
- Teamwork. I am a huge believer in teamwork. For someone who gets such joy from such an individual pursuit as ultra running, I am actually a surprisingly awful person at doing things on my own. As a kid, I always preferred team sports, and I still prefer them as a spectator. I therefore like to take opportunities on ultra marathons to link up with others and take advantage of the situations where two or more minds can be better than one - especially one that is very tired! On the Spine, this worked out brilliantly with Simon, and I hope that it worked as well for him as it did for me. We found that when one of us was flagging, the other was often feeling strong, which helped to keep our momentum up. We also talked through a lot of decisions while making them, which I believe made a huge difference in the quality of choices we each made. We prompted each other to eat and drink regularly, agreed on route choices when there was any lack of clarity, and our discussion and agreement to shift to the plan to maximise daylight travel and to sleep 3 hours a night in darkness transformed my enjoyment of the event. This level of alignment and success is obviously not something you can guarantee on something as long and gruelling as the Spine, but it was no surprise to me to see so many of the people around our pace in the mid-pack operating in pairs.
- Attitude / Mindset. Back in 2018, when I ran my first 100k+ race, I made a conscious decision to be the most positive person in every conversation that I had during the event. I found that this approach helped in my enjoyment and therefore my success on the run, and I carried that approach forward to all of my subsequent major challenges. On the Spine, I knew that this alone wouldn’t be enough (although the ability to always be the person cracking jokes and being positive was definitely helpful and made sections of the journey very good fun). Alongside this, I knew that I would need to have a strong mindset for dealing with the various issues and low spots that would arrive throughout the event. This is where experience comes into play, in my opinion, and may also be one of the reasons why so few of the field of runners in an event of this length are below 30; it takes time to build a bank of knowledge and experience around how an event like this might unfold, and how it might unravel if you let it. I am fortunate that I have gathered that experience in the 12 years or so that I have been running ultras, which helped me to keep perspective when my pole wouldn’t open at the foot of Jacob’s Ladder, when I was looking desperately at every farm building on the evening of day two, dreaming that one would be open and I could catch 20 minutes’ sleep. In these situations, I was able to trust my training, my conditioning, my planning and my equipment, and keep perspective and a positive, growth mindset about the challenges I was facing, knowing that the hard times always pass on challenges like this. I was also then able to think more logically about the situations I was facing and put plans in place to deal with them. For me, this is the difference between endurance and resilience; good planning, mindset and equipment can improve your resilience, meaning you don’t have to endure suffering as a result of the run that you have chosen to spend your time and money on.
- Harnessing Familiar Body Rhythms. This is a bit of an odd one, and not something I had thought much about before the Spine, but it occurred to me to try it once Simon and I had decided to try to get our sleep at night times and to maximise our daytime running. After this, I decided to try and make everything feel as familiar as possible for my body, to maximise its natural body rhythms. As such, I made sure I had porridge for ‘breakfast’ at the start of each leg (something I eat almost every day at home), had a sandwich and crisps around the middle of each leg to simulate a normal lunch, and then had a more substantial meal on entering the CP each evening. Between these, I ate pretty much what I wanted and had with me, but keeping this discipline around ‘3 square meals’ really helped to make each leg feel like a ‘normal’ day and helped me psychologically, whether it helped physically or not.
Kit Review
Now to the bit most future Spine runners will no doubt be most interested in - what kit did I use, did it pass kit check, and was it any good?!
So firstly, all of my kit was purchased in line with the mandatory kit requirements. Although it wasn’t all inspected before or during the run, everything that was checked was fine and all of it was purchased to meet the minimum performance requirements for the 2024 Summer Spine. Therefore, barring the kit list being changed (which it no doubt will be), I would hope it will be suitable for others to use as a guide for future races.
Secondly, I have broken my kit review down into sub-sections to hopefully help others to find things more easily.
Thirdly, this is my personal opinion about equipment that I purchased with my own money and involves no incentives for my review (I wish someone cared enough about my opinion to pay me, but they don’t!) What works for me may not work for you, and vice versa.
On My Feet
Trench: The first thing I had on my feet was Trench cream, which I applied liberally each time I changed my socks to set out for a new leg. I got through a full stick of Trench on the run (maybe because I have size 12 feet) and will now use it for all future events. I’m not sure whether the cream made a huge difference or not, but as I have said above, my feet survived remarkably well despite being submerged in water regularly every single day.
Socks: Having started in a pair of Dexshell waterproof socks, I quickly switched to Injinji Ultra Run Mini-Crew socks. I then switched between these and Injinji Run Lightweight Mini-Crew socks for the rest of the event. I found these socks to be incredibly comfortable and surprisingly good at jettisoning water once they had got wet. My feet ended up wrinkled by the constantly wet conditions underfoot, but I had only two tiny blisters (one on each little toe) from the whole run, so would now use these socks every time.
Shoes: I wore a single pair of Inov8 Trailfly G270 V2 for the whole run. I wore the same type of shoe for 90% of the Northern Traverse and have worn them on multiple long training runs and ultras in the past (although under their original name of the TerraUltra G). I love this shoe and am gutted that Inov8 are stopping producing them. They have a very wide toe box, zero drop, and a very slight padding to the tongue in important spots to stop them from pinching the top of your foot when worn for long periods. The soles and insoles provide a good level of cushioning against harder surfaces, but they are also low enough to the ground to provide reasonable proprioception. They have enough grip for most summer conditions and didn’t struggle with the bogs at all. On the second night, as we descended the mudslide into Hawes, I slid quite a few times, but I think even my MudClaws would have struggled on that surface! As I say, I love these shoes and if it was possible to get them re-soled, I think they would last forever!
Gaiters: I wore a pair of Montane Via running gaiters for the whole run. I had stuck on some Velcro to the backs of my shoes to attach them to, which held up to the first couple of days of bogs without any issue. After that, the glue gave way and the gaiters weren’t as firmly attached to the back anymore, but I never got anything inside my socks or down through the mouth of the shoe opening, so they must have still done a pretty good job! They are also very lightweight, which makes them ideal for warmer weather running.
On My Body
Run Guard: I have used the Ronhill Run Guard running lubricant since around 2012, and I have never had a problem with it. It comes in stick form and I rubbed it liberally on all of the usual chafing spots before setting out on each leg. I didn’t have a single bit of chafing throughout the whole event, and I know that I chafe fairly easily, so this is one product that I would recommend highly.
Boxers: I continue to swear by Start Fitness’ More Mile running boxers that they made up until about 2018. Unfortunately they don’t make these anymore, so soon I will have to seek out an alternative, but I wore these throughout the event without any issues with rubbing or chafing, thanks to the boxers in combination with Run Guard.
Shorts: I never had to use either of my pairs of long running tights during the course of the run, so wore my Salomon Agile 2 in 1 running shorts throughout. I bought three pairs of these back in 2021, and they have been on rotation for pretty much every training run and event since. The undershirts aren’t as compressive as some others available, but they are tight enough to hold firm on your legs and not ride up, while the top layer is lightweight without being so flimsy that they get damaged too easily, like some of the other Salomon kit I’ve had in the past. The waistband is also fairly wide, which stops them from cutting in over long periods of running. The fact that most of the time I forget I’m wearing them is probably the best endorsement I can give for these on an ultra run.
Tops: Having got a couple of rubs around my shoulders from the straps of my pack on longer training runs, I decided to opt for a two-top strategy for the Spine; one tight fitted compression under-top and one looser top over it. For the event, I opted for an X-Bionic Twyce G2 base layer as the under top. This is actually quite thick for a compression top, but I found that I didn’t overheat in it during training runs due to the various vents perforated into it. It did ride up a lot though, which is really annoying, so I sewed a strip of silicon-lined elastic around the bottom hem to grip it in place. Ok, that’s actually a lie; instead I, as. 42-year-old married father of two, posted it down to my mum to sew that on for me, because my hand-sewing efforts had failed miserably! Over this, I wore a Montane Dart quarter-zip shirt, which has a very slight collar to protect your neck from sun / strap rubs. This combination was fantastic for me. I never got too hot, only put on an insulating layer a couple of times, and the tops somehow managed not to get particularly smelly throughout the whole event. I also didn’t get any rubs or chafing at all, so will definitely use this combination again jn future. The warmer top that I wore occasionally was my OMM Core hoodie. This is the most versatile insulated top I have ever had; if you don’t wear anything over it, it lets air through its loose weave and doesn’t make you overheat. However, if you put a wind proof or waterproof jacket over it, it traps a layer of air in that weave and immediately keeps you incredibly warm. I used this top a lot on the Northern Traverse where the nights were quite cold and was really glad I had it with me again on the Spine.
On My Head: I wore my Salomon running cap for the Spine, which has been my ‘go to’ hat since I bought it in about 2015. It has an attachable neck protector, but I didn’t get this out in the end on the Spine. Again, this hat just does what it says on the tin; it protects from the sun going in your eyes, has vents to help release some of the heat, and helps keep the sweat out of your eyes. I had a Salomon warm hat with me as well, but I only used it on the first night in the end, as the second night was fairly mild and we didn’t spend much time outside in the dark after that, so I was generally pretty warm.
On My Hands: I had a pair of Raidlight fingerless gloves specifically designed for running with poles, but once they got soaked on the first day, I didn’t fancy putting them back on, so didn’t use them again. For warmth, I had a pair of Montane full-finger insulated gloves that I wore on the first night, but then didn’t need again. For waterproofing, I had a pair of Montane Minimus waterproof over-mitts that I wore occasionally in the heavier rain of the first night, but again didn’t need after this. All of my gloves were incredibly lightweight and packed down very small, so carrying them with me was easy. They were all also very comfortable and effective at doing their respective jobs, so I will use these again in future.
Waterproofs
Jacket: Living close to the Montane Factory Shop can be both a blessing and a curse. After having loved my Montane Spine jacket on the Northern Traverse, I felt like it might be good to have a size up in case of cold nights on the Spine when I may need more layers underneath. At the factory shop, I found a Montane Phase Nano (the replacement for the Spine jacket) in the smock style (pull-over, rather than full zip) for a bargain price, and this is what I wore for the run. This jacket was absolutely brilliant during the times I needed it either for keeping out the hail(!) or rain, or for when I just wanted to keep off the wind to be a bit warmer. It is lightweight, compresses really small, is fantastically reliable against the weather conditions I’ve tested it in, and has a great hood design with stiffened peak and adjustable elastics in two directions. I’m a huge fan of these jackets and would recommend them to anyone, either in smock or full zip form.
Trousers: I stuck with my OMM Kamleika trousers for this event, which I’ve had since around 2018. These trousers are brilliantly comfortable, with a stretchy material finish that means it really doesn’t feel like you’re wearing waterproofs at all. I didn’t find them overly sweaty while I was using them on the Spine (something that is always a risk when you’re wearing shorts rather than something full length) and they kept me both warm and dry. They don’t pack down as small as some of the really super-light waterproofs like the Inov8 ones and similar, but I think it’s worth the sacrifice for comfort and robustness.
On My Back (and Front)
Backpack: I stuck with my Salomon XA25 from my Northern Traverse run for the Spine, because I had found it so comfortable for that event and I love how waterproof it is. I have raved about this pack on multiple occasions in the past to just about anyone who will listen, because I really do love it. The pack has space for two 500ml soft flasks on the vest-like front, a 2L bladder in a separate section in the back. The bladder section has a slot in the bottom to pass the tube out of, but personally I don’t like this approach, so sewed a small piece of silicon-lined elastic onto the top of one shoulder strap (yes, me this time, not my mum) and brought the tube over my shoulder for easier access and control. The main body of the pack has a roll-top style, which really helps with keeping it water-tight, and a small internal zip pocket within the single main body section. It has a stretchy outer pocket on the back to stuff things like a waterproof jacket or similar into between uses, and both a zipped pocket and stretchy pocket on each strap (though these are fairly small). As I say, the pack really is as close as you can get to a Salomon vest but in 25L capacity, and I love wearing it.
Front Pack: Because I knew I would probably need more kit with me on the Spine than the Northern Traverse (thanks to the extensive mandatory kit list and the fact that it is a lot further between CPs, so more food was needed), I decided I ought to try a chest pack. I did some research of options, and ended up opting for the Geeky Hiker pack. The pack has a number of pockets, each with a waterproof zip, and the pack itself is water-resistant (though not totally waterproof, so I always used a dry bag inside it). It has a number of attachment loops on it to hook your kit to so that you can’t drop it (or leave it on a rock… Simon!) a mesh front pocket to stuff your GPS device or similar into, loops on the bottom for your poles, and then clips and straps to either wear it on its own harness or to attach to your backpack. I opted to attach it to my backpack, as I like the straps of the Salomon so much and didn’t want to risk another set of straps that might rub or cut into my shoulders or sides. I made a couple of minor modifications to my pack, including adding some loops to attach my chest torch to (see below for details on this) and adding some padding from a baby’s car seat to the straps that ran over my muffin top. With these minor modifications, this pack was absolutely brilliant for me. I didn’t use the pole attachments, because I had my poles out 95% of the time and I like the attachments for those on the Salomon pack anyway, but I used pretty much every other feature and never found it wanting. It was so useful to have my phone, food and GPS in easy access at all times, and being able to look down into the main pack section and see all of my food, rather than fudging around in side pockets to try and find the thing I wanted was really helpful.
Lighting
Head Torch: In line with mandatory kit requirements, I had a head torch in my backpack, which I did use each night. The torch I chose for the Spine was the same one I had used on the Northern Traverse and the Hadrian’s Centurion challenge before that; an LEDLenser H8r. This really is a bulletproof headtorch that does exactly what it says on the tin. It is water resistant (I’ve had it on in biblical weather before without it missing a beat), has 3 brightness settings (from ‘anti-aircraft search beam’, through ‘car headlight’ to ‘normal headtorch’ brightnesses!), a replaceable battery mounted on the back of your head and… nope, that really is just about it actually. This is a great torch, and I love how basic but effective it is, with its very loving battery life and high brightness.
Chest Torch: This was a new thing for me, having never run with one before. However, when on one of my training runs in the dark and in really heavy rain, I noticed how the head torch’s beam bounced straight back at me off the rain, making it really hard to see. I also know form previous experience how the ‘tunnel of light’ effect that you can get from a head torch’s circular beam can really set off hallucinations and how it can make your world seem very limited. As such, I wanted to try something different and plumped for an UltrAspire Lumen 850 Duo head/waist torch. This thing has an incredibly wide angle to its beam, which spreads it across the path and combines with its high brightness to make the terrain easy to read and to reduce the feeling of running in a tunnel. The torch comes with two attachments; a strap and detachable clip for your head, and a waist strap. Each of these has a plastic clip mechanism on it that allows you to attach the torch and then angle it up and down as required. I simply unthreaded the elastic head strap and attached the clip to my chest pack, making for a really convenient place to have the torch without having to add any more straps to my body. It also had the added bonus of using the same rechargeable battery as my head torch, so I was able to carry one spare battery to cover both. This torch was an absolute game changer for me, and will be with me on any future adventures with the possibility of night running/walking. I would highly recommend this torch to anyone looking at overnight runs.
Navigation
Watch: As I mentioned before, I absolutely love my watch. I have had Garmin Fenix watches since the Fenix 3 came out, and am not sure I could move away from them now. My current watch is the Fenix 7X Pro Solar Sapphire, which I got from eBay about 6 months ago. The watch handled loading the entire GPX of the route without an issue, provided a clear navigation screen with all of the data I wanted around the edge, and barring once weird glitch on the final day (when I’m sure I pressed a button for too long or similar) never missed a beat. I charged it at each CP, despite always having at least 60% battery left, and therefore never had to think about charging it on the move, but I had a power bank and cable with me in case I needed that. I cannot recommend this watch highly enough.
Handheld GPS: I bought my Garmin eTrex 32X from eBay back in 2021 and used it briefly on the Northern Traverse, but have never really used it much in anger. I installed TalkyToaster maps on it and downloaded the GPX for the Spine onto it for the event as well. This is a pretty simple but effective GPS device, and one I would recommend if you just want the basic functions and for following a trail line like on an event like this. It takes AA batteries, so it’s easy to carry spares, and the functionality is relatively intuitive (although I would definitely recommend a bit of practice with it before the event).
Shelter
Bivy Bag: I originally bought a Rab bivy for the Spine, as I had seen it on a really good offer, but it was a bit more chunky when packed than I had wanted. I therefore plumped for a Terra Nova Moonlite Bivi when I saw it on a good offer closer to the event. This is just about the smallest and lightest bivi that you can get that meets the kit requirements for the Spine. I didn’t have to use it on the event, but was glad that it was small and light when it was stuffed at the bottom of my backpack.
Sleeping Bag: I bought my Rab Neutrino 200 down sleeping bag for the Northern Traverse and found it to be perfectly warm enough on even the chilly nights there. I brought it along again for the Spine, where once again I found it to be perfect. I decided not to carry it with me in my backpack, but was very happy that it was as small and light as it was when in my drop bag.
Other Bits Worth Noting
Drop Bag: After my experience on Northern Traverse of having to take everything out of my vertical duffel drop bag to get to the things I wanted, I decided to invest in a horizontal drop bag for the Spine. I picked one at relative random from Amazon and it turned out to be a great choice; the Wild Heart 100l waterproof duffel. By having a side opening, I was able to access all of my bits in the CP without having to fudge through everything to get to what I wanted. Although Simon would no doubt say I still took ages to get ready in the CP, I would argue it would have been exponentially worse if not for this bag!
Mug, Whistle, Knife, Needles, and all that other stuff: I went for the lightest but most effective kit I could find for these. A titanium mug with lid doubled as a holder for my small bag of first aid bits (including the famous green needles). My Victorionox Swiss Card was perfect for the short blade requirement, while also providing a small pair of scissors to help with tape etc. if needed out on the trail. I took a hurricane whistle in with my first aid kit, as it’s basically the loudest available and is pretty small and light still.
