The Joss Naylor Lakeland Challenge or The Crossing, as Joss always referred to it, is a significant part of his legacy and will continue, much as before. We all appreciate it won't be quite the same without Joss waiting at Greendale Bridge but nevertheless, everyone involved hopes Contenders will still have a great day out on the fells, just as Joss intended.
I am continuing as the recorder to help ensure the Joss Naylor Lakeland Challenge continues for many years to come.
It was Joss' wish that his funeral should be a colourful celebration of his life and attending fell runners should dress in their club colours. Also that those who are able should run over any of the passes into Wasdale Head. More details to follow.
St Olaf's at Wasdale Head is the smallest parish church in England and admission will be by invitation only. There will be a public address system to relay the service to those outside. Nearby parking is extremely limited so if you are not running to St Olaf's please car share, park considerately or use public transport.
The Naylor family invite all fellrunners to join them at Wasdale Head on Friday 19th July and to form a colourful guard of honour as Joss takes his short journey to his final resting place.
Donations, if desired, to the Stroke Ward, West Cumberland Hospital. To donate, please see: All enquiries, please contact us on 01946 810241 or at
Joss Naylor running in Wasdale, Cumbria, in 2004. He was born in the hamlet of Wasdale Head, where he lived for most of his life.
Towering figure in the world of fell-running admired for his charisma, tenacity and the domination of his sport
Joss Naylor was a colossus in the world of fell-running who in the final third of the 20th century not only dominated his sport but, through sheer charisma, put it on the map.
His greatest feats of endurance, in the 1970s and 80s, were accomplished far from the public gaze in the clouded hills of . But the unprecedented extremity of his achievements, and the hardiness that made them possible, captured the imagination of mountain lovers everywhere.
A Lakeland sheep-farmer who lived for most of his life in the hamlet of Wasdale Head, Naylor, who has died aged 88, ran his first fell event in September 1960, in the Mountain Trail – despite medical advice to avoid strenuous activity following injury in his teens.
Over the next few years, he began to race regularly, honing his technique and focusing his ambitions. He was not the fastest, and, after taking over the tenancy of his father’s farm in 1962, he had little time for systematic training. But he felt comfortable moving at speed over even the roughest terrain – he said that his experience with dry-stone walls helped him “read” the rocks – and his resilience seemed superhuman.
By the late 60s, he had begun a purple patch that would last almost 20 years: he won the Mountain Trial 10 times and the Ennerdale Horseshoe nine times in a row (1968-76), along with repeated victories in such gruelling events as the Wasdale, the Duddon Valley, the Welsh 1,000m Peaks, the Manx Mountain Marathon and the Karrimor Mountain Marathon (now the ).
What he really excelled at, however, were individual ultra-distance challenges. In 1971, he became only the sixth person to complete the , a notorious 66-mile circuit of 42 Lake District peaks, to be completed in 24 hours, which had once been considered as unattainable as the four-minute mile. Then he set out to extend that circuit.
In 1972 he completed 63 peaks within the 24-hour time limit, in the midst of an atrocious storm. , who paced him for part of the route, described this as “a memory equal to any of the greatest Olympic races that I have ever seen”. Three years later, Naylor upped his total to 72 peaks: the equivalent of going up and down Everest, Ben Nevis, Snowdon and Kinder Scout in a single day, all in a blistering heatwave.
No challenge was too extreme. He ran the 268-mile Pennine Way in just over three days (1974), the 190 miles of the Coast-to-Coast path from St Bees to Robin Hood’s Bay in 41 hours (1976), Hadrian’s Wall in just under 11 hours (1980), and a route linking all 26 of the Lake District’s “lakes, meres and waters” in 19 hours 15 minutes (1983). When he took off his shoes at the end of the Coast-to-Coast, the skin from the bottom of his feet came off, along with all his toenails.
Naylor was born in Wasdale Head, the youngest child of Joe, a shepherd who had moved there in 1927, and his wife, Ella (nee Wilson). It was not a comfortable upbringing: the valley did not even have electricity until 1977. But Joss, who helped out with farm work from the age of seven, grew used to long, hard, outdoor days, and developed a tolerance for physical discomfort which – combined with his love of nature – would fuel his subsequent achievements.
At 15, he left school (in nearby Gosforth) to work on the farm full time. But his teens were marred by the after-effects of two seemingly minor accidents that left him with chronic back pain. By his early 20s, the medical profession had all but given up on him. His right knee had lost all its cartilage; two discs had been taken from his spine; he wore a special corset to prevent further damage. He was pronounced unfit for national service and urged to avoid strenuous activity.
He listened, but not for long. Other young men his age were getting involved in long-distance fell-running, and Naylor, whose home was overlooked by Scafell Pike, Yewbarrow and Great Gable, had a ringside seat. When the Mountain Trail event started in Wasdale in 1960 Naylor could not resist. He threw away his corset, cut off his work trousers at the knee, and ran along with the official competitors in his heavy work boots. He seized up with cramp near the end, but did well enough to know that he had found his calling.
In 1977, after many years of running and record-setting, he was warned that if he did not stop farm-work he risked having to use a wheelchair for the rest of his life. So he took an indoor job, mentoring apprentices, at the nearby Windscale (now Sellafield) nuclear plant. Yet he hung on to his 1,000-strong flock of Herdwick sheep, which thereafter he tended “as a hobby”. And his fell-running became, if anything, more extreme.
In June 1986, aged 50, he attempted a continuous traverse of all 214 peaks in ’s seven-volume Pictorial Guide to the Lakeland Fells, in the midst of another heatwave. It took him seven days, one hour and 25 minutes – a record that stood until 2014 – and required him to “dig deeper within … than I have ever had to reach”. By the end, the flesh on both ankles was rubbed through to the nerve, and his throat and tongue were so swollen that he could barely speak, let alone eat or drink.
To admirers, such ugly details capture the essence of “Iron Joss”. Naylor’s achievements owed less to genetic good fortune than to his indomitable spirit. He suffered no less than other runners. His greatness came from his refusal to surrender.
In an age when elite sport is increasingly seen as a science or a business, he ran with his heart, not his head. His favoured fuels were rock-cakes and apple pie, washed down with Guinness or salted blackcurrant juice or, occasionally, cod liver oil (swigged straight from the bottle, “like whisky”). And he would not hesitate to interrupt a record attempt to rescue a lamb in distress.
He was appoiinted MBE in 1976, yet remained startlingly modest about his achievements. Lesser fell-runners were amazed and inspired by the interest he took in their endeavours, and he would offer advice or encouragement to anyone who shared his love of the fells. The Joss Naylor Lakeland Challenge – a 48-mile route for runners over 50 that he set up in 1990 – reflects this generous outlook.
He also used his fame to raise money for charity, which he did enthusiastically for many years – not least by scaling 60 peaks at the age of 60 (in 36 hours) and 70 rather smaller peaks at 70 (in 21 hours).
Naylor was still active on the fells in his 80s, until a stroke in 2021 set off his final decline.
He is survived by his wife, Mary (nee Downie), whom he married in 1963, and three children, Paul, Susan and Gillian.
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| Pooley Bridge |
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| Dunmail Raise |
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| Approaching Great End |
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| Middle Fell |
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| Greendale Bridge |
Tom Brunt (Dark Peak Fell Runners, V50) – Joss Naylor Lakeland Challenge, September 2, 2023
It was a warm and hazy late summer afternoon on the wonderful limestone hill of Arnside Knott. The Arnside bore had just raced up the estuary flooding the sandbanks and mudflats in a matter of minutes. But my focus was on the skyline of the Lakeland fells - working from right to left I picked out High Street, Stony Cove Pike, Red Screes, Fairfield and Seat Sandal. It is one of my favourite views and today it held a special significance today as just 24 hours earlier I had been running across the rocks, scree and squelching bogs of those peaks in a race against the clock. Stiff and aching legs were a constant reminder of that fact.
24 hours earlier…
I set off from Pooley Bridge at 8:03 (the stray 3 minutes due to some last-minute watch faffing) with Bill Stewart for company. The weather forecast is glorious, perhaps a little too glorious. Even at 8am the sun is strong, and it is clearly going to be a hot day. The first peak, Arthur’s Pike passes without incident and exactly on schedule. The pace feels brisk but manageable as we ascend onto the broad ridge heading south towards High Street. Minor (in some cases very minor) peaks come and go. Below Kidsty Pike early morning mist bubbles up from valleys to the east burning off quickly in the sun. Down into Threshthwaite Mouth and the relief of a walking climb. Up until this point it has been 2 hours of continuous running – the MV50 schedule for the first leg is a stern taskmaster. A good descent into Kirkstone sees us arrive at the carpark to be greeted by Paula (my wife and chief road support) and Rainer Burchett (JNLC reception committee). Apologies to Rainer if we were rather brusque! This was meant to be a two minute stop – in reality it stretched to seven.
Refuelled and doused in water we head off up Red Screes. Bill is on support duties for this next leg too. More food, more drinks and noticeably less chat; instead, we focus on the task at hand. The next climb up to Hart Crag drags – even with the patented Borrowdale Fell Runners Hodgson Relays leg 3 line we only manage to equal the split time. The sun is relentless and any hint of a breeze has disappeared. Up and over Fairfield and then my legs object to the sudden change from steep descending to climbing up Seat Sandal. A twinge of cramp shoots up the inside of my leg – this was not part of the plan. On the summit of Seat Sandal I glance round to check on Bill. A mistake… I catch my foot on a stone and crash unceremoniously to the ground. Every muscle group in my right leg seems to go into some sort of spasm. My left knee is bleeding. I feel nauseous. Gingerly I get back up and walk / jog / trot down to Dunmail not feeling on top form. Time to re-group.
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| Preparing to leave Dunmail Raise (Swatts, Jack and myself) |
Bill’s work is done for the day and his final selfless act is to give me his two ice-cold cans of coke. They are accompanied with fresh peaches (delicious), and I try to eat, drink and get organised for the next leg as efficiently as possible. Minutes disappear at an alarming rate. Support from here to the finish comes from Stephen Watts (aka SWatts of Pennine Fell Runners – himself a successful JNLC V50 man) and my own Dark Peak clubmate Jack Foxall. The youngest member of the team, BilI’s daughter Tilly (13), is joining us for Steel Fell – she sets off ahead and is soon marching up the fellside looking as though she could carry on to Wasdale. Normally I relish steep walking climbs like Steel Fell but instead I feel lethargic– we are not catching Tilly up. Things take a turn for the worse heading to High Raise negotiating the bogs and knolls along the undulating ridge. Jumping over a boggy area my legs cramp up again. I have no idea how to stretch out my inner thigh. I seem to vaguely remember a technique called the “Naylor Shake” for dealing with cramp, but unfortunately none of us have the faintest idea how to administer a “Naylor Shake”. Instead, I opt for lots of liquid and electrolyte. This section is a low point. It feels as though we are moving through treacle, the air is hot, the ground is wet and boggy and I have taken my eye off the ball with the navigation so we end up (needlessly) on Calf Crag. The final drag to High Raise, descent to Stake Pass and the gentle ascent to Rossett Pike are little better. Mercifully clouds fill in and we are granted some respite from the sun – not a moment too soon. The food and drink start to kick in climbing up Bowfell. Leaving the boggy terrain behind and getting onto the rocky peaks which constitute the most dramatic section of the route – Bowfell to Steeple – is also a boost for morale. This is familiar territory, we get the direct descent line off Great End spot on and meet SWatts’ wife Mel at Sty Head with additional supplies. More peaches (tinned this time) really hit the spot. Mel and SWatts have devoted their wedding anniversary to this run – impressive commitment to the cause. Similarly, Jack has rearranged his weekend plans at short notice to support and travelled up from Sheffield this morning. I feel a strong sense of obligation not to let the support crew down.
Leaving Sty Head I am about 30 minutes down on my 11:40 schedule so I need to claw back at least 10 minutes, preferably a bit more to avoid an anxious final descent to Greendale Bridge. The best place to start is the long slog up Great Gable. We gain 3 minutes which is a real morale booster. The sun comes back out but doesn’t have the intensity of earlier in the day; the air feels cooler. The cramps seem to have gone – touch wood the salts and drinks have worked, and although my legs are feeling wooden on the descents I am still climbing strongly. SWatts and Jack are having to work hard to keep up on the climbs – I take this to be another encouraging sign. A few more minutes are gained against the schedule on both Kirk Fell and Pillar. Little by little my confidence is rising. I keep pushing hard on the climbs. Scoat Fell comes and goes, Steeple too – a wonderful spot in the evening sunlight. Grassier terrain leads up to Haycock and then the delightful trod across to Seatallan. The mental arithmetic of times and schedules and splits has been proving difficult, but I arrive at the trig point after exactly 11 hours. Even in its current fuzzy state my brain can work out that leaves me 1 hour (well, 59 minutes) to make it to the finish. For the first time I feel pretty much certain that I’m going to make it. Legs complain down the steep drop off Seatallan, and then just Middle Fell, an understated gem of a hill, is all that remains. I can see two figures on the summit. I know SWatts is one and realise that the other is Paula who has spent the day doing all the unsung road support tasks. It’s great to see her on the final hill. We take a minute to admire the view in stunning evening light and all trot down together.
I reach Greendale Bridge 11 hours and 47 minutes after leaving Pooley Bridge. Hard work; it had been in the balance for much of the way, but that made the eventual success all the sweeter.
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| Seatallan and Haycock from Middle Fell – Jack and I are just about visible… |
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| Jack and I reaching the top of Middle Fell. |
Many thanks to:
Bill Stewart (Borrowdale Fell Runners) – Legs 1 and 2
Stephen Watts (SWatts, Pennine Fell Runners) – Legs 3 and 4
Jack Foxall (Dark Peak Fell Runners) -Legs 3 and 4
Paula Gould (chief road support and Middle Fell)
Mel Watts (additional road support and Sty Head)
Tilly Stewart (Steel Fell)
Louise Stewart (additional road support)
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| The obligatory team photo on Greendale Bridge – Swatts, myself, Jack and Mel |
