Race: Wirral Multi Terrain Series (Arrowe Park 7k: Race 4)
Time/Position: 28.14 (32nd from 196)
I find it hard to believe I won the V45 category in this series in 2015. The standard of competition is now frighteningly high: even if I had better form I think I'd be struggling to place well. The 4th or 5th time I've done this particular fixture, and perhaps the muddiest after a day of rain. Wore my old shoes, which wasn't a good idea, sliding around on the fields in places. I always enjoy it though, as the light fades through the woods on the second lap.
Tuesday, September 24, 2019
Saturday, September 21, 2019
Wepre parkrun
'Race': Wepre Parkrun
Time/Position: 20.20 (4th from 136)
Not quite as slow as I was last time (a full 5 seconds quicker!) but still my second slowest 5k ever. After the Collie run yesterday, and with the Caucasus still in my legs, it all felt a bit of a struggle on the second lap.
Time/Position: 20.20 (4th from 136)
Not quite as slow as I was last time (a full 5 seconds quicker!) but still my second slowest 5k ever. After the Collie run yesterday, and with the Caucasus still in my legs, it all felt a bit of a struggle on the second lap.
Monday, September 16, 2019
Chkuthi and Zuruldi
Peaks: Kakhri (1952m), Zuruldi (2463m), Mentashi (2455m)
Area: Caucasus, Svaneti, Georgia
The sheer scale of the vertical intervals, combined with the altitude, had taken it out of me a bit. Shame, because I quite fancied trying to get up Pik Komsomol today, which I could see from my balcony. After another mammoth breakfast, courtesy of Nana at the guesthouse (chatting to two Spanish climbers this morning - they hadn't got up a single mountain in the two weeks they'd spent in Svaneti). The morning was stunning: crystal clear, and the air was cool as I took the tracks east of Mestia. The start of this route is shared with the famous Mestia-Ushguli four day trek, so several couples with ludicrously huge rucsacks were struggling upwards as I skipped past in my running shoes. Why anybody would do this these days is completely beyond me, with accommodation options everywhere and no obvious need for much equipment, but you see it all the time - I haven't a clue what they deem necessary. Anyway, the track gave way to delightful meadows and apple orchards, and the views up to the Chalaadi glacier and Ushba were predictably breath-taking, a wonderful backdrop which constantly stayed in view. After a steep section through forest, the path diverged, and I guessed the route to Chkuthi took a narrow path across a meadow to a lovely little ridge poised above a ridiculously scenic side valley. This led up towards Banguriani peak and was like something from a fantasy novel: autumnal colours in the woodland, little fields, some Svan farmers hay-baling with wooden sledges, rushing torrents. I continued upwards, not entirely sure of the onward route, and stopped to admire the view to Ushba. Round a corner to the end of the Chkuthi ridge at Kakhri, which guards the entrance to the Adishi valley. After gaining the ridge and views east, I descended all the way back to Mestia and took the cable car up to Hatsivali. Sadly the continuation chairlift up Zuruldi was broken, so a horrible track through the woods was in order. This was the lowpoint of the trip as I was tired and, unlike everything else I'd done, it was tedious and pointless. It just felt like an Alpine ski resort. At the top, however, was a ridge with low woodland and more delightful meadows. I walked eastwards to the highpoint (which is clearly not the mast
Area: Caucasus, Svaneti, Georgia
The sheer scale of the vertical intervals, combined with the altitude, had taken it out of me a bit. Shame, because I quite fancied trying to get up Pik Komsomol today, which I could see from my balcony. After another mammoth breakfast, courtesy of Nana at the guesthouse (chatting to two Spanish climbers this morning - they hadn't got up a single mountain in the two weeks they'd spent in Svaneti). The morning was stunning: crystal clear, and the air was cool as I took the tracks east of Mestia. The start of this route is shared with the famous Mestia-Ushguli four day trek, so several couples with ludicrously huge rucsacks were struggling upwards as I skipped past in my running shoes. Why anybody would do this these days is completely beyond me, with accommodation options everywhere and no obvious need for much equipment, but you see it all the time - I haven't a clue what they deem necessary. Anyway, the track gave way to delightful meadows and apple orchards, and the views up to the Chalaadi glacier and Ushba were predictably breath-taking, a wonderful backdrop which constantly stayed in view. After a steep section through forest, the path diverged, and I guessed the route to Chkuthi took a narrow path across a meadow to a lovely little ridge poised above a ridiculously scenic side valley. This led up towards Banguriani peak and was like something from a fantasy novel: autumnal colours in the woodland, little fields, some Svan farmers hay-baling with wooden sledges, rushing torrents. I continued upwards, not entirely sure of the onward route, and stopped to admire the view to Ushba. Round a corner to the end of the Chkuthi ridge at Kakhri, which guards the entrance to the Adishi valley. After gaining the ridge and views east, I descended all the way back to Mestia and took the cable car up to Hatsivali. Sadly the continuation chairlift up Zuruldi was broken, so a horrible track through the woods was in order. This was the lowpoint of the trip as I was tired and, unlike everything else I'd done, it was tedious and pointless. It just felt like an Alpine ski resort. At the top, however, was a ridge with low woodland and more delightful meadows. I walked eastwards to the highpoint (which is clearly not the mast
Sunday, September 15, 2019
Chubedishi
Peaks: Chubedishi (3015m)
Area: Ushguli, Caucasus, Svaneti, Georgia
Ushguli is off the scale, a truly stunning location - Europe's highest settlement (if you think this is Europe, that is). Points of comparison in my own experience are the remoter parts of Nepal, or perhaps the Atlas Mountains: ancient organic stone buildings, narrow muddy alleys, livestock, high peaks, and of course the medieval Svan towers that reach their apogee here. I didn't think I'd be able to get up here, but it was relatively simple - a two hour mashrutka journey through stunning villages and landscapes until the road gives way to a bone-shaking dirt track above the Enguri gorge. I'd watched the film 'Dede' (set in Ushguli) the night before, so it was all rather exciting as we drove up the higher valley with the stupendous 5100m wall of Shkhara (Georgia's highest peak) just emerging from the mist at the valley's end. On either side of the upper village (there are four tiny hamlets up here) were two peaks. The driver then told us we had longer in the village than I'd expected, so suddenly an enormous potential bonus presented itself - perhaps I could get up a peak in this stunning location. I had no details but the right-hand (northerly) mountain looked the most feasible, with a ridge leading to the summit (unlike the enormously bulky mountain opposite). I walked through the atmospheric alleys of the upper village (although this is the most touristy of the four), and spied a path off to the right. This did indeed lead up the obvious forepeak, and after a steep haul, to my delight it seemed to continue up to the grassy ridge. It was perfect: a notable peak, very obvious from the village, in the most wonderful imaginable location - an excellent addition to the '50@50'. I trotted up the ridge, with wild views down to the right, Zeshko, and the Russian border - completely wild and uninhabited. To the left, the trekkers valley up to the Shkhara glacier. The peak itself kept emerging then disappearing, as well (perhaps) as Dykh-Tau beyond. Once or twice, it peeked through a hole in dark clouds - absolutely stunning, reminding me of the cinematography in 'Dede'. I left my sac below the much steeper summit cone (still grassy). This necessitated a detour contouring right to gain the final summit ridge, which was broad and led to a large cairn. Fabulous views, despite the cloud and mist, with grassy ridges in the foreground and savage ice peaks beyond. On the descent, which was quick and easy, wonderful views over Ushguli and its valley. I then had plenty of time to wander round all the villages - the bottom two are entirely undeveloped, still in their original medieval state. The top one has some modest cafes, at one of which I enjoyed a beer with ojakhuri (pork, chicken, chilli, butter, potatoes). Later, I had ostri and chvistari after the bumpy return to Mestia.
Ushguli is off the scale, a truly stunning location - Europe's highest settlement (if you think this is Europe, that is). Points of comparison in my own experience are the remoter parts of Nepal, or perhaps the Atlas Mountains: ancient organic stone buildings, narrow muddy alleys, livestock, high peaks, and of course the medieval Svan towers that reach their apogee here. I didn't think I'd be able to get up here, but it was relatively simple - a two hour mashrutka journey through stunning villages and landscapes until the road gives way to a bone-shaking dirt track above the Enguri gorge. I'd watched the film 'Dede' (set in Ushguli) the night before, so it was all rather exciting as we drove up the higher valley with the stupendous 5100m wall of Shkhara (Georgia's highest peak) just emerging from the mist at the valley's end. On either side of the upper village (there are four tiny hamlets up here) were two peaks. The driver then told us we had longer in the village than I'd expected, so suddenly an enormous potential bonus presented itself - perhaps I could get up a peak in this stunning location. I had no details but the right-hand (northerly) mountain looked the most feasible, with a ridge leading to the summit (unlike the enormously bulky mountain opposite). I walked through the atmospheric alleys of the upper village (although this is the most touristy of the four), and spied a path off to the right. This did indeed lead up the obvious forepeak, and after a steep haul, to my delight it seemed to continue up to the grassy ridge. It was perfect: a notable peak, very obvious from the village, in the most wonderful imaginable location - an excellent addition to the '50@50'. I trotted up the ridge, with wild views down to the right, Zeshko, and the Russian border - completely wild and uninhabited. To the left, the trekkers valley up to the Shkhara glacier. The peak itself kept emerging then disappearing, as well (perhaps) as Dykh-Tau beyond. Once or twice, it peeked through a hole in dark clouds - absolutely stunning, reminding me of the cinematography in 'Dede'. I left my sac below the much steeper summit cone (still grassy). This necessitated a detour contouring right to gain the final summit ridge, which was broad and led to a large cairn. Fabulous views, despite the cloud and mist, with grassy ridges in the foreground and savage ice peaks beyond. On the descent, which was quick and easy, wonderful views over Ushguli and its valley. I then had plenty of time to wander round all the villages - the bottom two are entirely undeveloped, still in their original medieval state. The top one has some modest cafes, at one of which I enjoyed a beer with ojakhuri (pork, chicken, chilli, butter, potatoes). Later, I had ostri and chvistari after the bumpy return to Mestia.
Saturday, September 14, 2019
Koruldi to Guli Pass
Peaks: Tskhakvzagari (2359m), Koruldi (3328m)
Area: Caucasus, Svaneti, Georgia
I have wanted to visit Svaneti for many years: it has always seemed the archetypal hidden mountain land, high up in the Caucasus. It's a fascinating region more generally, which I scratched the surface of in previous brief trips: 2011 and 2012. After a night in Kutaisi, I took the long Mashrutka journey through Zugdidi along the Abkhazian border to the Engudi gorge. Above here, eventually, the characteristic medieval towers of Svaneti mark the entrance to this magical environment - fields and fertile valleys, huge peaks. I stayed in a guesthouse in Mestia with fabulous views to Banguriani - it had a nice, albeit basic, 'mountain hut' atmosphere which I quite liked. This morning dawned superbly clear, and the village was deserted as I walked through it at 7.30am, buying a huge freshly cooked shota puri (tandoor) bread - too big to fit in my sac - for a few pence and climbing the cobbled streets towards the path up to the giant cross visible from most parts of the village. The route up was surprisingly steep in places, through thick woods with views to the magnificent pyramidal snow peak of Tetnuldi at the head of the valley. The leaves were just beginning to turn in the autumnal cool, and it really was a magnificent place to be. After an hour of solid effort, taking all the direct variations, I emerged on the undulating plateau above - infuriatingly, next to a jeep track. The views were stunning, however: directly across to the peaks of Kabardino-Balkaria, the Russian republic across the border, with the white dome of Elbrus immediately obvious. Closer to hand, Latraldashi, Tikhtengen and Banguriani towered above the Chalaadi valley to the right. Ushba, however, was hidden in some very localised mist. I walked to the giant cross which marks the 'summit' of Tskhakvzagari at 2359m, although in reality this is just the end of a long spur. It looks like a peak from Mestia, though, which I suppose is the reason it is a named peak. I sat on the grass for a few glorious minutes, enjoying the perfect temperatures and looking down to the Svan villages in the valley and the summits of Mekhnazi and Lahili. The light remained wonderful as I climbed the broad ridge above - this was a little tedious, but I reached the side path to the Guli Pass fairly quickly. This looked good, but my plan to climb Guli on the left seemed a little underambitious - it was just a spur on the ridge, not much of a peak given the magnificent surroundings. Instead, high above, was another peak. It looked red and shattered, but there was an obvious path up it, and it seemed certain to provide close-up views of Ushba - which at this point was still draped in cloud. I thought I'd take the chance, as the steep climb gave access to the famous Koruldi Lakes. These are shallow pools, but they provide a stunning foreground to the jagged peaks of the Russian border. They are popular, but I had it all to myself. Above, a little ridge led to a vague gravel track zig-zagging upwards. The altitude really kicked in now, at 3000m, and I had at least 1500m of climbing in my legs. I nibbled on my tonis puri, and left the track at the steep scree slope that was so obvious from below. There was a vague path up this, but it took some finding to make this negotiable. The cloud was peeling away from the red ridge above, however, and I began to feel that views of Ushba might be imminent. Nothing could prepare me for the sight that greeted me as I emerged, however. A loose scramble, distinctly unpleasant, led steeply up the final shattered cone of rock to the ridge, and then a stunning, instant view straight across to Ushba, one of the world's most dramatic, recognisable, dangerous and beautiful mountains. Its twin peaks were redolent of Pedraforca in Catalonia, or Pic du Midi in the Pyrenees, but twice as big. I have seen a lot of amazing sights in many mountain ranges over many years all over the world, but this was up there with the best of them: absolutely incredible, with tendrils of mist peeling away from the twin spires and plunging icefalls on either side. There are no obvious lines of weakness from this side. My more modest peak (Koruldi) lay up to the left, and a nice ridge led to a broader col before a final scrambly ridge up red, bouldery, shattered rock led to a small summit cross and cairn a little higher up. The view of Ushba from the true summit was even better, breath-taking and incredibly close. Of all my '50 at 50' special overseas mountains this year (46 done so far), I think this view exceeded that of Teide from Guajara, and the many, many others, as the finest of all. Both Ushba peaks were now visible, and as I descended I took some time to examine the peaks further east - stunning in every direction, just a little overshadowed by the mighty Ushba. The descent was far easier than the ascent, scree running in places, and I decided to extend the day by contouring the wonderful hillside directly across to the Guli Pass. This was wonderful - springy meadows, steppe buzzards overhead, water pipits below. There was no path (I was above the normal route) but it looked initially like I might be able to contour directly across. Sadly, however, I reached a broad river valley which was very steep, almost a gorge, and meant I had to descend to the normal path - steep and tiring. From here, I crossed the stream (awkward) and headed up to Guli before abandoning the attempt just below the pass when I realised I would be too late back if I carried on. The descent was steep but the weather stayed glorious - and I refuelled on the carb-heavy Lobiani (bean pie) in Lushqu Qor beer garden.
I have wanted to visit Svaneti for many years: it has always seemed the archetypal hidden mountain land, high up in the Caucasus. It's a fascinating region more generally, which I scratched the surface of in previous brief trips: 2011 and 2012. After a night in Kutaisi, I took the long Mashrutka journey through Zugdidi along the Abkhazian border to the Engudi gorge. Above here, eventually, the characteristic medieval towers of Svaneti mark the entrance to this magical environment - fields and fertile valleys, huge peaks. I stayed in a guesthouse in Mestia with fabulous views to Banguriani - it had a nice, albeit basic, 'mountain hut' atmosphere which I quite liked. This morning dawned superbly clear, and the village was deserted as I walked through it at 7.30am, buying a huge freshly cooked shota puri (tandoor) bread - too big to fit in my sac - for a few pence and climbing the cobbled streets towards the path up to the giant cross visible from most parts of the village. The route up was surprisingly steep in places, through thick woods with views to the magnificent pyramidal snow peak of Tetnuldi at the head of the valley. The leaves were just beginning to turn in the autumnal cool, and it really was a magnificent place to be. After an hour of solid effort, taking all the direct variations, I emerged on the undulating plateau above - infuriatingly, next to a jeep track. The views were stunning, however: directly across to the peaks of Kabardino-Balkaria, the Russian republic across the border, with the white dome of Elbrus immediately obvious. Closer to hand, Latraldashi, Tikhtengen and Banguriani towered above the Chalaadi valley to the right. Ushba, however, was hidden in some very localised mist. I walked to the giant cross which marks the 'summit' of Tskhakvzagari at 2359m, although in reality this is just the end of a long spur. It looks like a peak from Mestia, though, which I suppose is the reason it is a named peak. I sat on the grass for a few glorious minutes, enjoying the perfect temperatures and looking down to the Svan villages in the valley and the summits of Mekhnazi and Lahili. The light remained wonderful as I climbed the broad ridge above - this was a little tedious, but I reached the side path to the Guli Pass fairly quickly. This looked good, but my plan to climb Guli on the left seemed a little underambitious - it was just a spur on the ridge, not much of a peak given the magnificent surroundings. Instead, high above, was another peak. It looked red and shattered, but there was an obvious path up it, and it seemed certain to provide close-up views of Ushba - which at this point was still draped in cloud. I thought I'd take the chance, as the steep climb gave access to the famous Koruldi Lakes. These are shallow pools, but they provide a stunning foreground to the jagged peaks of the Russian border. They are popular, but I had it all to myself. Above, a little ridge led to a vague gravel track zig-zagging upwards. The altitude really kicked in now, at 3000m, and I had at least 1500m of climbing in my legs. I nibbled on my tonis puri, and left the track at the steep scree slope that was so obvious from below. There was a vague path up this, but it took some finding to make this negotiable. The cloud was peeling away from the red ridge above, however, and I began to feel that views of Ushba might be imminent. Nothing could prepare me for the sight that greeted me as I emerged, however. A loose scramble, distinctly unpleasant, led steeply up the final shattered cone of rock to the ridge, and then a stunning, instant view straight across to Ushba, one of the world's most dramatic, recognisable, dangerous and beautiful mountains. Its twin peaks were redolent of Pedraforca in Catalonia, or Pic du Midi in the Pyrenees, but twice as big. I have seen a lot of amazing sights in many mountain ranges over many years all over the world, but this was up there with the best of them: absolutely incredible, with tendrils of mist peeling away from the twin spires and plunging icefalls on either side. There are no obvious lines of weakness from this side. My more modest peak (Koruldi) lay up to the left, and a nice ridge led to a broader col before a final scrambly ridge up red, bouldery, shattered rock led to a small summit cross and cairn a little higher up. The view of Ushba from the true summit was even better, breath-taking and incredibly close. Of all my '50 at 50' special overseas mountains this year (46 done so far), I think this view exceeded that of Teide from Guajara, and the many, many others, as the finest of all. Both Ushba peaks were now visible, and as I descended I took some time to examine the peaks further east - stunning in every direction, just a little overshadowed by the mighty Ushba. The descent was far easier than the ascent, scree running in places, and I decided to extend the day by contouring the wonderful hillside directly across to the Guli Pass. This was wonderful - springy meadows, steppe buzzards overhead, water pipits below. There was no path (I was above the normal route) but it looked initially like I might be able to contour directly across. Sadly, however, I reached a broad river valley which was very steep, almost a gorge, and meant I had to descend to the normal path - steep and tiring. From here, I crossed the stream (awkward) and headed up to Guli before abandoning the attempt just below the pass when I realised I would be too late back if I carried on. The descent was steep but the weather stayed glorious - and I refuelled on the carb-heavy Lobiani (bean pie) in Lushqu Qor beer garden.
Tuesday, September 10, 2019
Wirral MT Series, Thurstaston
Race: Wirral Multi-Terrain Series (Race 2: Thurstaston 5m)
Time/Position: 30.30 (28th from 245)
Exactly the same position as last week although I felt a little better for this race, which is possibly my favourite of the four Wirral fixtures. It is another two-lap affair, dropping down to the beach with its big skies and views across the estuary. On the first lap, I tripped on an errant boulder, of which there are a few, cutting my knee. This knocked me back temporarily, but as the field opened out I began to pick up a few places and sustained the same modest speed on the second lap. The run-in along the cycle track always takes much longer than you might reasonably expect, and the finish is now next to the visitor centre up a little hill.
Time/Position: 30.30 (28th from 245)
Exactly the same position as last week although I felt a little better for this race, which is possibly my favourite of the four Wirral fixtures. It is another two-lap affair, dropping down to the beach with its big skies and views across the estuary. On the first lap, I tripped on an errant boulder, of which there are a few, cutting my knee. This knocked me back temporarily, but as the field opened out I began to pick up a few places and sustained the same modest speed on the second lap. The run-in along the cycle track always takes much longer than you might reasonably expect, and the finish is now next to the visitor centre up a little hill.
Sunday, September 08, 2019
Ras Cyrn y Brain
Race: Cyrn y Brain fell race (7m/1300ft)
Time/Position: 52.44 (6th from 62)
Like an extended version of the Ponderosa hill race, this took in some very familiar ground and is an excellent runnable route. This is the third year it's been run, I think, but a first for me. I took it steady for the concrete climb up to Cyrn y Brain, with some fairly big gaps opening out between runners. This joins the long OD descent across the open moor on duck boards and heathery paths down to the World's End road: I was disappointingly slow on this section, and also for the mile or so down the tarmac to World's End. The race then takes the long contouring climb back up Cyrn y Brain, which eventually joins the narrow Ponderosa descent route (I remember doing this climb on a long run from Llandegla a couple of years ago). I made up some ground here, but couldn't catch Simon in front and he finished 30 second ahead after the quick dash down the rather painful concrete path to the finish near the Ponderosa. Nice weather throughout, relatively cool and clear, with fluffy clouds and views across to Snowdonia.
Time/Position: 52.44 (6th from 62)
Like an extended version of the Ponderosa hill race, this took in some very familiar ground and is an excellent runnable route. This is the third year it's been run, I think, but a first for me. I took it steady for the concrete climb up to Cyrn y Brain, with some fairly big gaps opening out between runners. This joins the long OD descent across the open moor on duck boards and heathery paths down to the World's End road: I was disappointingly slow on this section, and also for the mile or so down the tarmac to World's End. The race then takes the long contouring climb back up Cyrn y Brain, which eventually joins the narrow Ponderosa descent route (I remember doing this climb on a long run from Llandegla a couple of years ago). I made up some ground here, but couldn't catch Simon in front and he finished 30 second ahead after the quick dash down the rather painful concrete path to the finish near the Ponderosa. Nice weather throughout, relatively cool and clear, with fluffy clouds and views across to Snowdonia.
Tuesday, September 03, 2019
Wirral MT Series, Royden Park
Race: Wirral Multi-Terrain Series (Race 1: Royden Park 5m)
Time/Position: 31.22 (28th from 243)
Last time I did this race, in 2015, I had the Ben Nevis race descent in my legs and still remember a monstrous case of the DOMS as I hobbled round. No such excuses tonight, yet I was still two minutes slower! Still, I felt better than I have recently and did feel a tiny bit of speed returning at times. A huge field set off for a lap round the first field, so it was very crowded for the long lap which takes some narrow paths through the woods to gain the edge of the sandstone escarpment with views over the Dee to north Wales. Quite frustrating at times, especially on the rocky, sandy descent from the trigpoint on the miniature hill that marks the end of the climb. I made up some ground on the second lap but it was all a bit too late, with me a bit too slow, and struggling with the pace towards the end. Still, it feels really good to be back racing again, even if there is a lot of work to do. With luck, I'll be able to do three of this always excellent series this September.
Time/Position: 31.22 (28th from 243)
Last time I did this race, in 2015, I had the Ben Nevis race descent in my legs and still remember a monstrous case of the DOMS as I hobbled round. No such excuses tonight, yet I was still two minutes slower! Still, I felt better than I have recently and did feel a tiny bit of speed returning at times. A huge field set off for a lap round the first field, so it was very crowded for the long lap which takes some narrow paths through the woods to gain the edge of the sandstone escarpment with views over the Dee to north Wales. Quite frustrating at times, especially on the rocky, sandy descent from the trigpoint on the miniature hill that marks the end of the climb. I made up some ground on the second lap but it was all a bit too late, with me a bit too slow, and struggling with the pace towards the end. Still, it feels really good to be back racing again, even if there is a lot of work to do. With luck, I'll be able to do three of this always excellent series this September.
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