OMM Borrowdale

Race: OMM
Peaks: Base Brown, Dale Head
Area: Borrowdale/Buttermere, Lake District
Time/Position: 3:59:43 / 19th from 136 finishers (400? entrants)
The weekend's events at Borrowdale have already entered into the realms of fell running and mountaineering folklore. Suffice to say it was a memorable experience, with a striking contrast between the calm competence of the competitors and media hyperbole/deliberate lack of context. Partner Paul and I spent a windy Friday night sleeping in the car at Seathwaite, then began the C course at 9.12. Wasn't really the course I wanted to do (would have preferred long score) but nevertheless happy to be there and looking forward to the challenge of what we all knew were forecast to be very bad conditions later on. A bit windy, but dry with a fairly high cloud base as we set off up Styhead gill for the first checkpoint near a stream source below a spur running down from the summit of Base Brown. Began to get quite windy, and rather wet, as we climbed to check one. But then conditions got considerably better as we dropped down into the Sour Milk Gill valley leading down to Raven Crag. Going well at this point, climbing up to the plateau and easily locating the eastern knoll containing checkpoint two. Shortly before the check we had a taste of things to come with a ferocious gust which knocked us sideways. But the wind was at our backs for a fast descent over tussocks to the Honister road. The number of runners was already diminishing, and very few seemed to choose our route up to the third check, which involved contouring the hill to pick up a wall above Seatoller and fence line leading to the plateau above Tongue Gill. At this point, things got really interesting. The rain was now torrential, and stingingly horizontal, with the wind becoming unusually strong: the 110mph gusts forecast hadn't yet materialised, but began to as we ploughed along a series of little spurs very quickly with the wind at our backs. After checkpoint 3, we had to head back the way we'd come, to the col above Tongue gill. But with the wind in our face, this was a real struggle. I was blown over quite a bit, and was blown headlong into Paul at one point. One unavoidable fact now presented itself. The shortened course directed us from check 3 to check 9. But the obvious route was over the Dale Head ridge via the summit! I'd done this ridge a couple of years ago: it was clearly going to be awkward. We forded a stream in spate then began the long climb. My map was ripped from my hands early on, and it was hard to move fast enough to generate enough heat to counter the increasing cold. Impossible to stay dry, and knocked to the ground even on this lee slope. The crossing of Dale Head itself and along the ridge below Hindscarth will stay with me for some time. A biblical struggle, all pairs linking arms for extra stability. I've been knocked down by wind in the mountains before, but never as frequently as this, and I've never been pinned to the ground for such sustained periods of time. We stuck to the windward side of the ridge and made slow progress along the ridge - a real challenge, but I felt fine and warm at this point, and even managed to run some of the ridge which was a very satisfying and enjoyable test of hillcraft. A bellyflop into the wind got us over the fence and down to checkpoint 9 in a shallow gully. An easy run-in to the last checkpoint in heavy rain saw us checked in at the overnight camp in around 3:59, a pleasing 4th place at this point. Got the tent pitched in very bad conditions, changed clothes and we were just about to get the stoves on when somebody shouted that the race had been cancelled. Some disappointment, particularly since this is the second time I've retired from the OMM in circumstances beyond my control! As we took the tent down, a tremendous gust ripped it from the pegs, shearing one of the poles. It took flight with all my gear still inside, landing on barbed wire and tearing the fabric. Still, I've had it for 20 years and it's done me proud. If the trip over Dale Head has already assumed legendary status, the walk back to the car at HQ was equally memorable: wouldn't have missed it for the world. The winds got progressively stronger as we reached the top of the pass, with deep roars preceding the worst gusts and runners knocked over and in some cases pushed back down the road whilst on the ground. I remember looking up at one point into what seemed like a wall of white water as river and hillside merged. Great stuff, and thoroughly enjoyable with the satisfaction of completing the course in trying conditions. The road down to Seathwaite was waist deep as we made our way back to the barn, cars floating and Sour Milk gill an Alpine torrent. Nice spirit of camaraderie as we recovered with soup in the barn, and retired to the car for dry clothes, warm sleeping backs and glenfiddich. Passed a pleasant evening, and pushed the car out of the mud next morning, when the magnitude of the media storm gradually became apparent.