Last time (24 days before) everything was right except the weather: 60 mph winds for a retreat from Hart Crag the first (in June 2022) my fitness wasn't good enough and I was 14 minutes over the 24 hours. This time it had to work I would not be enticed into a fourth attempt! Not even by my keen band of 4 who have helped me to refocus my life after Barbara died in 2020: Jane Meeks, Gary Baum, Helene and Jonny Whitaker. All younger, fitter, and more talented than me. All lovely people. Would their kindness stretch to the slow pace of a 70-year-old with a gammy knee?
It did! Although my lack of bravery on the descents (I have osteoporosis) must have exasperated them. You who read this will know that the JNLC has 17,000 feet of descent and it's 49 miles (the most rough and steep bits coming after half-time, when quads are turning to jelly and knee joints to wood) descending anything more than 20° slope has not been a joy for me for the last 30 years, but I will not describe my tribulations of this challenge’s descents - slippery rock on Gable and Kirk Fell gave me a tumble several times - or this account will become a lament instead of a swansong. My team managed magnificently and had done their homework thoroughly. Thank you Jane, Helene, Gary, Jonny. It was an honour to be supported by you and a wonderful 23 hours 46 minutes for me.
Serenaded by fighter jets, Jonny takes me fast along High Street, every split time gaining on the schedule, so that we arrive at Kirkstone 36 minutes up. Glorious Summer afternoon becomes sombre evening as cloud creeps in from the west and we get a few spots of rain on Pike How. Two more minutes are gained as Gary unerringly leads me across Beckstones Moss, He’s recce’d this section so many times that he doesn’t need to look at the map. His third time pf pacing me here but first in daylight (which is rapidly dying as cloud envelops the tops).
From being 38 minutes up on Fairfield my descending inability and darkness reduce this lead. By the time we arrive at Dunmail, alive with insect life attracted by head-torches, I’m exactly on the 22.5 hour schedule. This is fine by me because I don’t expect to finish anywhere near 22.5 hours, but the ladies are worried, which gives them reason to divest me of all gear, including compass & map. The men at least allowed me my bumbag with nibbles and water: I never imagined these nice women could be so severe! Apparently, I will not have the option of lying down in, or even on, my survival bag; of taking photos; of stopping to have the occasional peek at the map. This no-nonsense approach is right of course, they know how I procrastinate with legs as well as brain….
I do as I am told and move steadily up the beast of Steel Fell, into the cloud which will keep us wet, or very wet, for the next 11 hours. Up here a breeze keeps the insects at bay but with darkness had come a dreadful lethargy and “steadily” isn’t enough to prevent me from losing time (I lose 4 minutes on Steel Fell). I don’t want to disappoint my team, so I stride manfully onward through marsh & tussock to High Raise (31 minutes lost). But “manfully” isn’t enough either either, and by Rossett Pike (a further 28 minutes lost) I’ve slipped over a 23:30 estimate. I can hear the concern in their voices as they confer, but all they will say is “Every second counts, Glynn”. It’s fully light as we top out of the Bowfell Traverse. Light enough now to see the worry etched on their faces. Although Jane beams her radiant smile at me, this dims when I say I can’t face the direct line off Great End. Last year this took 58 minutes; a recce of the long route took 39 minutes; today I take 48 minutes ….
[Postmortem of times revealed at at Styhead Pass I had tipped so far into the red that I was then 4 minutes over the 23:55 estimate! No wonder team morale dwindled]
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| Greendale Bridge |
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