New York Appalachian Trail

Location: Appalachian Trail, New York

Total distance: 88 Miles
Notable features: Point to point course with lots of ascent and descent and scrambling over rocks and tree roots.
Weather: 55º at the start, going down to 37º during the night and then back up to 60’s during the day.
Cutoff Target: 24 hours
Total Elevation Gain: 17,000’
Total Elevation Loss: 18,000’
Average Elevation: 1000’
Max Elevation: 1500’
Min Elevation: 120’
Total runners who started: 2 (not including crew)
Total runners who finished: 0
Goal Time: finish under 24 hours
Distance covered: 71 miles

What started with a random cold and mid winter sunrise run back in January snowballed to the concept of running the New York Appalachian trail. Looking back the unexpected situation with Covid shaking up everyone’s calendar certainly helped convince Greg and myself to look differently at our options for running related challenges in 2020. 

From that initial wintery run there had been a variety of running trips throughout New York and New Hampshire. My summer training plans briefly interrupted by an injury I picked up in June/ July, which along with gyms being shut hampered my progress. It’s safe to say it was tough being patient and letting the healing take its course. Nonetheless I was managing to keep my fitness ticking over with some cycling and strength exercises. Fast forward and we were suddenly in September and counting down the weekends till our inaugural FKT attempt. We had planned out some longer training runs which my incredibly supportive wife, Laura, came out to drive between aid stations. Her supporting was a massive help for my training as well as helping us to fine tune what we would need on the actual day of the run. There is one thing running for 5+ hours but it takes a whole different level of dedication to drive between random spots for 5+ hours and camp up waiting for the 5 - 15 min stops we would take to pass through in.

I spent the last couple of weeks tapering with a mix of yoga, mobility work and making sure I was eating, sleeping and drinking well (I probably should have been doing all of these more often throughout my training) . The final supplies were ordered as I settled on a selection of food and drinks for the run. For drinking I used tailwind the flavourless variety, energy gels by spring energy then I mixed in some solid foods of Lara bars, hummus wraps, beef jerky and a selection of waffles. At the aid station I was able to add in some pedialyte, water and an assortment of cake we were planning on rustling up closer to the day of the run.

Aid Station supplies

The jars were pre-filled tailwind

The plan was to start at 6pm at the edge of the New York and New Jersey border where we would complete the slowest and overall more technical section in the dark whilst we had fresh legs. With the thinking we could catch up some speed on the “smoother” sections during the daylight the following day. The day of the run was spent with the final small pieces of preparation and making sure we had everything. It was certainly different to the Pine to Palm 100 miler (you can read about that here) I did where we were limited by what I could physically fly with to the event. Laura between helping me organise a few bits was busy baking treats for the runners and crew. Driving out to the start line my nerves and excitement were starting to build. Meeting up with the rest of the team we transferred kit and food between the cars, took some photos of us looking clean and fresh before hiking up to the start line. The sun was beginning to set, flooding the area with a golden hue. We could not have asked for better conditions! No rain was forecasted, the days were due to be cool. The night was looking to be a cold one!

Greg and myself posed for a few final pictures whilst we tried to look relaxed and fresh. Standing at the line painted on the rock marking the border of New Jersey and New York we were finally ready to set off. After months of training, planning and preparation, all those hours had built up to what we hoped would be the next 24 hours of running. With no fan fare other than just the four of us we did our own count down, started our watches and headed off down the trail. Having run it a few times previously we felt the familiarity as we jogged along. Pausing briefly on top of a ridge line close to the beginning to admire the sun setting across the surrounding area. It was a beautiful sight! Before heading back into the forest and being plunged into growing darkness. As the light died the forest started coming alive with noise from all the bugs, birds and what sounded like a pack of dogs howling as the day came to a close. The odd crashing through the forest with a flashing white tail of deer as they bounded away from us. Not too surprisingly through the early stages of the run we hardly met anyone along the first couple of sections.

Arriving at the second aid station and we picked up the pacers joining us, Dan, Dan and Mike for an extra set of eyes in the dark. Unfortunately Greg’s foot was beginning to cause him some issues and in the midst of it I managed to have a trip hitting my knee and bashing my hand. The skin ripped on my hand with blood beginning to drip down my fingers. Not a great start given we were so early in the milage and the night. We met the crew at a road junction where they helped clean me up. Patched up and we were back on the trail.

During the night we lost time with our pace not being quite what we hoped or expected. We were at third aid station and we had already lost a decent amount of time but there was still the potential to catch up some of the lost time. It was also during this stage where we bumped into a number of camp sites, with dogs barking and growling to the sound of our foot steps. Despite being a dog owner the sound of a dog growling and barking angrily in the darkness wasn’t exactly reassuring, particularly as it became louder and closer. In parts people had set up camp almost immediately off the trail. We past one man asleep in his chair outside of his tent and I am pretty sure his eyes were open, at least it wasn’t halloween….

An extract from Greg’s experience:

“If Nikki can endure great pain daily, I can do it for one day" This is what ran through my head at 1am on the Appalachian Trail on Sunday morning. I was 25 miles into our 88-mile trek to be the first to do the New York Appalachian Trail in a day. My foot had hurt all week (long-time plantar fasciitis), including on a short walk the day before. It was hurting badly by mile 15 of the run, and by mile 25 at our 3rd aid station, I pulled Becca aside who was crewing us throughout the night and said "This is the worst it's ever been. What should I do?" "Greg, all you can do is listen to your body.", she responded. I threw every treatment I could at my foot at the aid station - massage, yoga, CBD cream, new shoes. But none of it really seemed to do too much. I just listened to my brain and my heart instead (those are part of my body, right?) and took it one painful step at a time.“

At the third night stop we ended up pausing for a while with Greg’s foot causing some issues. After sorting out some of the essentials and feeling the temperature plummeting as our bodies cooled in the cold night air, myself and some of the pacers wrapped ourselves in towels round our legs and wore puffy jackets up top. The night had cooled down substantially and by the time we left my teeth chattered away despite being wrapped up with a jacket, gloves and hat on, it was time to get going. Thankfully the immediate uphill helped with warming up quickly and soon we were stripping off the extra layers. The extended break had done Greg a wonder of good. Our pace improved and we were making better progress as we headed towards Bear Mountain. As we headed on up the mountain the sun was beginning to rise. Despite all the extra eyes on the trail we some how cut a section off the trail ending up at the summit prematurely. Realising our error we doubled back before finding the right trail that took us in a long sweeping loop back to the summit of Bear Mountain. We paused briefly along the trail to see a full moon lighting up the valley along with a cloud inversion siting beneath us. The sun was beginning to rise with the dark night sky beginning to turn a blue grey as we made it down the steps of the mountain. The whole area was still and quiet in the early morning hours, a change from the normally full parking lot and bustling paths. There was even a family heading up for sunrise. Unfortunately because of it being early in the morning we were not able to take the route through the zoo. That will have to wait for another day! We were met near the base by the next round of running pacers, Dave and Chris, who had headed out to meet us, they had been there quite a while unfortunately due to us being pretty behind schedule by this stage.

Heading over the bridge and the Hudson river at the fastest we had travelled for quite a while we arrived for breakfast at the aid station at the base of Anthony’s nose. We grabbed a bunch of supplies for our packs and the next stage of the run and most importantly breakfast along with a much needed coffee. It’s amazing how much difference a new day and sunrise makes.

With headlights off we could finally run and see where we were running, which felt like a luxury after the hours of darkness. With the sun up it felt like we were back on familiar ground again as we made our way along the second half of the route. With new pacers the time passed quickly chatting away. Despite already completing one ultra and being about halfway I felt pretty good. Over time we split into two groups with the differing paces. I was looking forward to the next stop where Laura was going to greet me, amazingly she met me mid stage at a road crossing with another cup of coffee. Perfect. I sipped some down as we chatted briefly before crossing the road. Myself and Dave headed off back into the woods on and up the trail. The forest was a beautiful temperature in the morning as we made progress along the trail. Not long later and we arrived at the official aid station. Laura had picked up on the fact that I had misjudged my previous stage on both water and food, so started filling up my running vest with extra goodies for the next stage. We waited around a bit and not long after Greg turned up. He decided to take a bit of a longer stop at this aid station so after getting ready I decided to head on. Dave kindly joined along for the ride (of the running kind). Passing the time talking about his time spent filming in Bhutan and visiting far flung monasteries. Passing along the trails in their full fall colours was an incredible experience. It was mid morning as we came to the point I would not longer have a pacer for a few hours. It had been awesome but I was equally looking forward to a period of just being by myself on the trail.

it also coincided with me beginning to not feel on top form. I just wasn’t feeling particularly hungry or thirsty and was having to try pretty hard to remember to do either. My mouth felt and tasted consistently sweet. I arrived at one of the unplanned aid stations. Laura had decided it would be a great point for a pick me up. Resting under the bridge trying to smile and to get some calories in. I felt ruined. Describing it to Laura with a few choice words on how I felt. Some coffee and a load of water helped kick start me. The next section was uphill for a few a while. I grabbed my running poles and loaded up my pack with a bunch of wraps and some delicious cake Laura had baked up. Feeling slightly sorry for myself I jumped off the back of the car and made my way up the hill. I started to feel better bit by bit as I munched down some food. It wouldn’t be long till I would be joined by Mark who had agreed to come down from Massachusetts to pace for me towards the end of the run. We were massively behind time by this point and after doing the maths I realised it would be a night time finish at the rate I was going. I needed to make up even more time. There were yet more miles of running flowing through the trees as the day progressed I felt stronger and stronger again. Fortunately it was just part of the ebb and flow of these longer runs and the highs and lows that accompany it. I had been a bit worried that it was potentially the same wall I hit of Pine to Palm at mile 80 where everything slowed right down and basically the wheels fell off the cart. Between the running and some force feeding at the aid stations the come back was on.

Soon enough I was joined by Mark for the final sections, he provided the boost to my speed with a huge amount of energy and a definite mental boost. We caught up on how the year had been and of course how the run had shaped up. All in all it seriously helped pass the time. It also gave me the opportunity to reflect on the experience and ultimately what I wanted to do. When I met him there was still about 23 or so miles to go. I did the maths and realised it wasn’t just going to be a late finish but with where we were finishing would likely mean finishing up at home in the early hours of the morning. The FKT by this stage was well and truly not on the cards, it just had not been our time on this occasion. After much discussion over the couple of hours I made my decision on what would happen at the next checkpoint. In many ways it made the rest of the run time to relax and really enjoy the beauty of what we were running through. The scenery was spectacular with flowing trails through the forest and the area covered in fallen leaves. The cherry on top came with the setting sun and yet another gorgeous evening of golden light flooding the forest it was incredible to run through. Some might debate how my “running” looked by this stage but it was still my slow version after almost 24 hours of running and 36 hours of being awake. Mark pulled out one last surprise of swedish fish sweets.

As we came into the final miles we picked up the pace with the prospect of stopping being so close. Coming round the corner to cheers from the crowd of the support crew and the run was over.

We had not completed the planned run or achieved the FKT we envisaged months earlier but I finished after 24 hours of running feeling great. Sure I could have continued and aimed to finish the full distance but I felt the balance of risk and reward for me had shifted. Instead I finished short, I was happy with how the day had shaped up, the overall experience and rather than finishing late into the evening I enjoyed the moment with Laura, Mark and some of the support crew all washed down with a small dram of whisky.

Have you done something which did not go to plan? Or changed plans to enjoy the moment rather than the finish line?

A massive thanks to all the team who supported us, Greg for pulling it all together. Elizabeth for supporting Greg. Mike for your organising of the pacers. John, Becca and family for the night crewing. Dan, Dan, Dave, Chris, Mike and Mark for the pacing! Rachel & Katie for inspiring the Big Run and Nikki’s cause. And of course Laura and Onyx who supported me throughout the training and the run!! The experience was made by the people along the journey.

A Big Run

THE NEW YORK APPALACHIAN TRAIL

October is Domestic Violence Awareness Month. Domestic violence is a global epidemic that continues to quietly plague our homes, getting lost in the noise of the daily news cycle, especially during the COVID-19 crisis. Greg (Benno’s trail running partner) felt that he had a responsibility to raise awareness and discuss domestic violence issues, just as the white populous has an increased awareness to discuss racial issues.

A BIG RUN - RAISING AWARENESS FOR DOMESTIC VIOLENCE

Text donation: You can also text (202) 858-1233 and enter “abigrun” to pay via Venmo, Paypal, or credit card.

Some details about the route, and if you wish to follow along our journey on instagram @bennorawlinson or on the trackamap link below

https://trackamap.com/bennosadventures/

Whilst you are out on the trails this weekend use the hashtag to support #NYabigrun

• 88 miles on rocky hiking trails

• 17,000’ of ascent and 18,000’ of descent

• Crosses the Hudson River at the Bear Mountain Bridge, right after snaking through the Bear Mountain Zoo

New York to Montauk

It was a month since I had run a 100 miles when I received a message asking if I fancied joining a ride from New York to Montauk out on Long Island, NY. Making for a second 100 miler in as many months. Of course I was interested. I just didn’t know quite how my legs would feel having very much taken a break since the race. Equally in the build up to the running race I hadn’t been out on my bike much. All thoughts of logic to one side the route was one I had wanted to do for a while. Trumping any other thought process. I quickly text back to say I was in.

The planned route

After much deliberating about which weekend we finally settled on one.  Our first attempt ended up being delayed with people being away and a strong headwind of gale force proportions to be exact. So the official first attempt finally came round.

Early morning traffic

The night before the ride I spent a happy evening preparing as the light faded for the evening my bike was ready and packed in the car along with all my equipment, clothing and snacks for the ride, ready for the next days adventure. I set my alarm for early on Saturday morning.  It felt like I had hardly been asleep when the alarm rang. I snuck out of bed. In the process disturbing our dog Onyx who thinking it was time to get up got particularly excited with his tail wagging and banging into everything. Bouncing round the house I tried and failed to settle him as I kissed my wife before leaving. This was followed by a lick first to mine and the to her face by our over excited dog. Dog slobber removed I jumped into the car. The sun had only just started to rise as I drove out of New Jersey and under the southern end of Manhattan, the sun began to peak beneath a blanket of clouds. The roads were fortunately generally quiet and we were all on track to meet at our starting point just outside Manhattan in a place called Babylon. I rocked up just as the others pulled into the station. Despite it being the weekend trying to find a parking spot which allowed me to stay most of the day without costing a fortunate proved challenging. Parked up, bike unpacked and wheels back on and it was time to get going. Thoughts of trying to get a pre-cycle coffee had well and truly gone out the window. 

The first section of the journey was through the suburbs of long island sprawling out from Manhattan. The roads seemed to be either needing some serious repairs or under repair. As we bounced down the road. It felt like our bones were being rattled to the core. It reached the point where my water bottle popped out of my cage as it rolled across the road. The last time that happened to me I heard the pop of my bottle as a car drove over the top of it. For a 100 mile ride I didn’t want that to happen quite so early on! Fortunately I quickly nipped round picked it up and was on my way again and managed to catch up with the others at the next traffic lights. We continued on winding amongst the sea side towns of Long Island. One of which was starting to setup for a fall fete, including a bunch of farm animals from chickens to lambs, where we weaved in and out of the various fences blocking the roads, tents, people, animals and then back out onto the main road. It seemed that towns were taking advantage of the fall/ winter down time. The next town we arrived with the road being completely pulled up, leaving just the pavement (side walk) to cycle along.

Caffeine & Sugar hit time!!

After some fairly bumpy miles we finally made it out of the sprawling suburbs of Manhattan and Long Island. We were on the open road. After cranking out the miles in the morning it was time for a coffee. Spotting a place on the side of the road we pulled over bundling into the shop in search of coffee and cakes that were on offer. Loaded up with a piping hot coffee and a blueberry muffin for myself we sat down outside munching on our mid morning snack and trying to strike a balance between getting our coffee down without burning our lips whilst not waiting too long before we froze in the autumnal cool air. At this point I wished I had one brought something to go over my relative thin short sleeve top and two had put some milk in my coffee so I could drink it that little bit quicker. Caffeine and sugar hit done and it was time to hit the road again. Now that we were out of suburbia the roads were quieter as we passed through a mixture of fam land, riding stables and past some of the further out beach escapes for city folk. 

Perfect stop off at La Fondita, for a perfect round of burritos , https://lafondita.net/

Our route took us down to the coast finally on a little peninsular of land. However the road sign post suggested that the route ahead was flooded. We hadn’t appreciated that there had been so much rain or such high tides given how low the land was to cause any serious flooding. Despite the possible warning we opted to continue on. Thinking that at worst we turn around and cycle back the way we had come. Skirting past the sign we made our way along the coast. Compared to the summer it was eerily quiet; beach access parking lots (car parks) and houses stood empty. The only sign of life was the odd place with a work van parked out front for winter maintenance. After a bit of time we came across a mass of water across the road. Unless there was a big and unexpected dip in the road the water depth didn’t look too deep. Nonetheless we spread out in case one of us fell or more likely we didn’t get a mouth and face full of spray from the person in fronts rear tire. As we cycled through it became clear pretty quickly that it wasn’t going to get too deep, despite the relatively low depth our socks and shoes were now soaked through. As we headed a long it turned out that this was the first of a few water crossings. By the time we reached the end of the road we were soaked! Stopping on the top of the bridge before heading back onto the mainland we could admire the views, watch some local fisherman and most importantly wring out our socks. The bridge provided the only “hill” of the day so far and the elation of free wheeling down the other side at full speed was elating. Back onto the flats we headed out along the coast past more and more beach houses. 

It was time to find some lunch! After most of the day on the bike we were starving. The downside and certainly a first world problem was the lack of phone reception to find somewhere nearby for a bite to eat. After trying for a bit whilst meandering the lanes, we finally managed to find a Mexican place to get some food and it was pretty much on route, plus a personal favourite. Bikes racked, we pilled into La Fondita ordering burrito’s and nachos, once they came out they were positively inhaled and certainly went down a treat. Loaded up on energy we headed on towards our final point Montauk. We were heading a long the now busy roads, through some of the beachside towns bustling with a few more people than the rest of the cycle so far. The sun had finally come out a bit more. I wasn’t freezing any more. The road meandered right along the coastline, as we went cycled we debated whether or not to head to the light house and back or not. It was a close call with us being able to get all the way out to the point, back to Montauk and onto the train. Otherwise we were going to have to wait for quite a while. After a decent ride we arrived into Montauk and decided to head to the Montauk Brewery for a quick drink before the train back rather than heading to the lighthouse. Despite cutting the ride slightly short we didn’t have that much time to wait around before dashing to the train. Boarding we watched the landscape fly by as we headed back the way we came.   

Finding Mt Ascutney

I was up in Vermont for the Martin Luther King weekend and it was turning out to be an epic weekend to be up north. Saturday had been a skimo race. Then overnight there had been about a foot of snow in some places of some fairly wet and heavy powder. The first day post snow dump turned into a fairly heavy day of moguls with a touch of powder up at Killington. As the day wore on the it slowly became mission impossible to find some clean untouched pow. A lot of the area had been tracked out by the time we got to the mountain.

I had Monday off for Martin Luther King day. After asking around as to where to go and looking at the various options I decided on checking out a place called Mt Ascutney. That morning I was not feeling my freshest the after an evening fuelled by chicken wings and beer. This is not my normal go to post ski day food. Due to the restaurant we being overwhelmed (we think because of the lingering bad weather) we ended up eating whatever was on offer which turned out to be some guests food who had left due to an inexplicably long wait. Slowly but surely I dug my car out with snow pilled high up the wheels, over the roof and it was bitterly cold. I hadn’t managed to get into the car or seen a thermometer to know how cold it was. I could feel the cold stinging my face particularly when the wind blew, whipping up the snow in great swirls. Even with some thick gloves on my hands were chilling pretty quickly when I paused between a few shovel loads. It brought back memories of decamping up in the Arctic.

One of the buses carting skiers up to the mountain pulled up and informed me Killington was delaying opening due to the high winds and low temperatures. All skiers and boarders apparently would need full facial cover as it was getting down to -40F (-40C) with windchill on top. Given the delay I was pretty happy to be going and checking out a new ski area.

Mt Ascutney is an old ski resort that shut down in 2010 after running for 80 years. Since then most of the infrastructure that supports a ski mountain from the lifts to the buildings have been stripped away. The woodland has begun to regenerate the once stripped slopes as it slowly returns to it more wild state. That was until it was recognised as a great spot for some back country skiing. With the trees already cleared for the most part it  just needed the relatively recent growth to be slightly more controlled. Since then a whole bunch of volunteers have been banding together to help maintain the trails during the summer which also helps make it a perfect playground for hikers, runners and mountain bikers. As the snow begins to fall and the trails fill up with snow its become a little back country haven. Since the early days where it was just a bunch of cleared trails there is now a seriously impressive warming hut at the base. Which given the temperatures  had risen a bit and were in the range of -10F to -15F (-23C to -26C) before wind chill made for a fantastic starting point before heading up the mountain. Check them out on the link below:

I didn’t realise there was a warming hut prior to arriving as I got my skins on outside my car in the freezing temperatures whilst they flapped around sticking to anything apart from where I wanted them to. Trudging up the slope to the base I spotted the hut at the base and meandered in. I was welcomed to a whole bunch of skiers and split boarders chatting away and getting ready for a days in the mountains. Having not been to the mountain before and looking for some good trails to ski I asked if I could tag along. It was a complete mix of guys and girls, skiers and split boarders and ages which was awesome to see. It also transpired that a bunch of them had been on a bachelor party/ stag do that had made it through various news channels local and national including BBC world service online. You can read about that below:

The first few strides up the mountain I could already feel the effects of the past few days mileage that I had put my legs through. They had certainly felt fresher. The hike up actually felt pretty warm as we were in amongst the tree line with a spot of sunshine and what ever breeze there was was on our backs helping keep us cool on the ascent. As we headed up you could still make out some of the structures used by the ski mountain before. The cut trails being the most obvious and then the occasional building or piece of metal work. A couple of the guys had skied the area when they were smaller and could remember and discussed the various cut throughs and secret ski spots that only the locals would know. As we got closer to the summit we could feel the wind picking up through the tree line. Coming out at the top we immediately felt the full force of the wind blasting our backs. Fortunately there was the remains of what I assume was the old mountain patrol building at the summit which we hid on the lee ward side of whilst removing skins and preparing to head back down. Having trekked up it was definitely time to get a whole bunch of layers on for the downward journey. 

Heading down and we picked our way through powder snow and some small undergrowth. It was this first lap when I began to wish for some fatter skis. Occasionally my backcountry days have involved powder but the vast majority has been more like hard pack with a splash of ice and rocks. In some of the less steep terrain I was just sinking in the heavy snow and occasionally being driven to an almost an immediate stop on other sections. Which certainly added to the odd fall or ski loss. Nevertheless getting in a bunch of powder day turns was great. Having seen photos and videos from friends up north getting midweek morning powder sessions before heading to work it was great to have a shot at it myself. 

Previous days summit photo

After warming up at the base in the hut to let some of the facial hair icicles melt it was time for lap two. The hike up went surprisingly quickly once I knew the route, meandering our way back up the mountain. Arriving at the summit and with a bit of a larger group we bundled into the open basement of the old ski patrollers building to remove our skins. The temperature had dropped a bit so we made the most we could from what remained of the building whilst the bitingly cold winds roared on. It was a touch of luxury sheltered from the elements whilst having a quick bite and getting some layers on.

For this lap we chose a different trail in search of more powder. It is safe to say the combined factor of the previous days skiing and the prior lap I could definitely feel my legs burning on the descent. I think before next season I need to spend a lot more time on the bike and doing some leg weights to get into a better ski shape but I wasn’t about to change my ski fitness over night or mid lap. Coming round the corner and hitting a slightly flatter section I suddenly ejected from one of my skis. Fortunately after a short hunt I found it buried beneath the snow. Clipping back in and I was back on my way down the mountain to join the rest of the group. It made me think about the old ski tracers we used to use years a go for powder days back in Europe with my family. A bit old school but maybe worth bringing out for the next season either that or some new fatter skis….

Reaching the end of the run my legs felt done. Back in the hut and grabbing a seat I decided it was time to hit the road. After a chat with the guys I was told about a great spot for some post ski grub down at the Brownsville Butcher & Pantry. If you are in the area I would definitely recommend making a stop with delicious food it made for the perfect pit stop. They also have a fantastic beer selection, perfect for post drive when I finally managed to get home.

Photo courtesy of the Brownsville Butcher & Pantry, Vermont

Find local businesses, view maps and get driving directions in Google Maps.

Catamount Trail Skimo Camp

Thank you Aaron Rice for letting me use your photos in this post. On a complete side note he is an awesome guy who climbed and skied 2.5 million feet in a year. Check him out at

https://airandrice.com/

I’m a bit behind writing up about this but back in December I found out about the Catamount Trail Association who not only organised a skimo and backcountry ski camp but also hold a number of ski touring days. There is still plenty of snow out on the trails and trips going on this season. If you are interested in ski touring, backcountry skiing or even for the summer there are options for various tours and routes to check out.

http://catamounttrail.org/

Anyway we headed up late on a friday night. It’s safe to say between work taking slightly longer than expected, as did the drive we arrived and got to sleep a bit after midnight. An ideal bedtime prior to a 5 am wake up to get over to the ski area for a morning tour up the mountain. I rose the next morning trying to be as quiet as possible before Laura my wife kindly drove me over to the venue before heading back for some much needed sleep. The excitement of the day a head certainly helped overcome the tiredness of minimal sleep. As did a spot of a sugar rush as I grabbed a cereal bar to eat on the drive over. 

After a quick briefing in the morning twilight with the other skiers and a few split boarders before we got underway in the blue light of the morning. Although it was just light enough a few people opted probably more sensibly to bring out a head torch as beams of light cut across the trail as we started to hike up. It felt great being out on the skis for the first time of the season. I had unfortunately not been able to make the most of THE snow dump that happened back in November. Many of the skiers regaled tales of some of the best snow and powder days they had seen in seasons. Despite the crisp cold conditions we all soon heated up as we picked up pace heading on up the mountain at Bolton Valley. Having never been there it was a great spot to see with some dedicated uphill trail routes to skin up. This was the warm up of the day and for me a great re-introduction into ski touring, everything kind of felt a bit familiar yet rusty. We headed up past a mountain hut that you can stay in overnight during the winter which looked like an awesome spot for another day! The trail took us further up the mountain weaving between trees and over frozen streams as the sun began to rise. It was a cloudy morning unfortunately, so there was to be no golden sunrise. Rather an overcast blue grey glow. The group slowly spread out up the mountain as micro groups found their rhythm heading up the trail. 

Starting off in the morning twilight

Reaching the top and it was time to strip the skins from the base of our skis and ski down. Helmets on, skins off and we were flying down the mountain side. Having mainly done skimo races where you don’t necessarily take in how everyone else is performing their transitions it was great to start seeing the varying levels of efficiency and proficiency at the top. As we got closer to the base we began passing a number of other ski tourers heading up for their own first lines of the day. Arriving back at base camp we came through the doors of the classroom area to a row of donuts and coffee. Despite the earlier breakfast in the car the caffeine and sugar hit was exactly what was required. This was not to be the breakfast of athletes or champions I expect but it was certainly a welcome treat. 

It was then time for class.

The day was broken down into 2 sections, the morning for some indoor teaching, Here there were a couple of options. Essentially 2 sessions were more focussed on an intro to ski touring and backcountry. Then another 2 which were orientated on performance and race perspective within a ski touring setting. A lot of the principles are completely transferrable to a backcountry setting. I opted for the two focussed on performance. 

First up was transitions. Regardless of the mountain being able to switch from boot packing, skinning or skiing in any combination as quickly as possible it’s hugely beneficial. In a race it allows you to not loose precious and non valued adding time. When you are not in a race it is safer and allows you to stay warm as you keep moving. For those that might like to take photographs, grab a quick summit bite to eat or something this time saving buys you some additional time whilst your mates are faffing to get ready. 

The biggest and most memorable point I came away with was the mantra of boots, bindings then skins. And always doing it in that order. That in itself has made my transitions more organised, deliberate and smoother. 

There were also some tricks of the trade for removing skins as quickly as possible. Below are some examples of some great transitions.

The second part of the morning was more into discussing training and nutrition as part of your training or race day program. There is loads of nutrition advice out on the web and with there being so much I often find the information contradicts one another when it comes to which is the best diet to perform on. Regardless of diets during any activity staying fuelled and hydrated is key and this came through in the presentation also. I haven’t always been that great with specific evening and pre-race nutrition regimes but when I have eaten properly the night before, drank a load of water or sports drink the morning of and then continued to fuel through the race. Unsurprisingly I have felt and performed better.  This presentation was quite fitting though as my evening meal had been grabbed on the go and wasn’t exactly nutritious while breakfast had been a cereal bar, coffee and a couple of donuts. 

If you are interested here are some resources (i am not affiliated with them nor an expert, if its something you would be interested in me doing more about nutrition then let me know!)

https://www.uphillathlete.com/high-fat-low-carb-diet-ultra-endurance-performance/

https://feedzonecookbook.com/

The afternoon was spent testing out equipment and putting into practise what we had been discussing in the morning around up hill technique and transitions. Having the day structured like this so we could hear about how to do it in the warmth and partly see some demonstrations before practising outside was fantastic for really practising good technique. I managed to borrow some Salomon s-lab skis. The comparison to my all mountain skis with a particularly heavy touring setup made a huge difference. I also learnt some key points. Such as them not having brakes to save weight. It is great but when transitioning on a slope you need to keep hold of your skis. In the event of running after them grabbing new skis by the edge is equally not a great plan. I ended up cutting a finger which was a pain but fine. It however then bled everywhere and on everything I touched. The conditions were really quite warm on the day so I had opted to not wear gloves the whole time. So if in doubt always try to wear gloves even if they are incredibly lightweight ones. And always hold onto your skis!

We finished up for the day with a raffle and some epic prizes! I cam away with some gloves and managed along the way to pick up some second hand skimo skis. Missing bindings but I will come onto them later.

All in all I would highly recommend this workshop. I will definitely be checking it out next season. You cant ask much more than to meet a load of super friendly ski touring buddies along with learning some tips and tricks.

Thanks Aaron Rice for letting me use your photos!!

1000km Ride Across Canada

Last year I was at a work event when a presentation came up about a bunch of colleagues who cycled 700km from Montreal to Toronto, in Canada. With them using the ride to raise money for Save the Children. I sat there listening, thinking about one of my last cycling adventures and how it would be a great way of seeing part of Canada. Fast forward a year and I was up visiting my Canadian colleagues when one of them mentioned in passing that a similar ride was happening this year and that I should drop the team a note. Not long after that I soon found myself signed up for a 1000km cycle from Quebec to Toronto via Montreal where we would visit three of our offices and manufacturing sites in Canada. 

Admittedly I was a bit late to the game and on top of this between other commitments and post running race recovery I didn't quite fit in the number of training rides that I had wanted to fit in. 

One key thing I did manage to do pre-event was to get my bike properly fitted at Hilltop Bicycles. It is safe to say that if I hadn’t done this the ride would have been significantly less pleasant. Pre-fitting I would get on my bike and after an hour cycling it felt like someone had severely kicked my rear end. Even on a short cycle into work, the return leg had become pretty uncomfortable. I ended up spending a happy evening in the bike shop being measured and fitted to my bike. My bikes is now over 10 years old and apart from when I first got the bike where the focus was mainly related to my height vs the bike, this was the first time that I had everything checked and adjusted to fit me. Everything from where my cleats on my shoes sat all the way up. The crucial element for me came with measuring my bottom. I sat down on this slightly squidgy seat and after a few minutes got up to see 2 little dimples marking where my sit bones were. Immediately I was informed my seat was the wrong size, good to know as it explained a lot. From here it was a quick exercise choosing the seat to fit my width. It was such a difference from what seemed like a fairly random exercise selecting a wider, narrower, shorter seat etc in the hope that at the end of the day it felt better. After a few further alterations the job was done. My wallet a bit lighter but certainly a lot better than a whole new bike. The next day I took it out for a ride and the difference was immediate. I was more comfortable on it than I had ever been and felt a lot more efficient in the process. All that needed to be done closer to the event was to take it all apart to fly up to Canada in a way that doesn’t wreck all these adjustments. 

The rough Route

It was the day before I was due to fly, and I was breaking down my bike so it could fit in a bike box when I became stuck removing the peddles. They just wouldn’t budge. Not wanting to spend too much time on it, I took it to a local mechanic to see if they had better tools for the job. The first peddle came off quickly enough. The second was stuck and needed to soak over night. Not really the answer I wanted but at least there was some progress. Having ridden in all sorts of weather and conditions it turned out that the grease I had put in over a year ago had finally all oozed out creating a pretty solid seal. The next day I turned up and the peddle was finally off. I quickly got back to the house to finish off the job and get it packed up for the flight to Quebec. Soon enough I found myself sitting relaxing on the plane as we taxied to take off. It felt like we had only just taken off when we were on our approach. The first surprise when arriving into Quebec was the fact that the dead pan immigration officer did not seem surprised or interested in the fact that my reason for being in CanadaI was that I was about to cycle from Quebec to Toronto. He clearly hears far more interesting stories through the day. It was a quick stamp and called out "Next!!”. 

It was great to finally meet the rest of the team who I would be cycling with for the coming seven days. It was a pretty impressive group with a mix of nationalities and backgrounds from national level kayakers to head ski patrollers and everything in between. We even had one guy who had committed to complete the 1000km on a fat bike. Riding by yourself or with other fat bikers is one challenge but as I was about to be reminded doing this on a fat bike in a peloton of road bikes is something else. Equally being in a peloton for the journey meant we could chat with one another and given that this was the first time i was meeting everyone meant listening to some great stories along the way.

The route itself followed the St Lawrence river from the outskirts of Quebec City up river to Montreal and the mouth of Lake Ontario then on towards Toronto. Going up river there was a marginal incline as well as being in the direction of the prevailing winds. 

The first couple of days were to be the easiest with ride distances in the 85 - 140km range making for a good warm up, allowing us to break into our stride. There was of course the odd coffee stop. Occasionally we came across a good caffeine stop shortly after starting the days ride.  

The distances then started to crank up as we left Montreal for the leg to Mississauga, Toronto. The first of these coming in at 171km (106 miles) and although not massively hilly the temperature was in the range of  30 - 35C (above 90F). Making the middle part of the day excruciatingly hot. It was not the conditions I was expecting. I had left the Carolina’s only the previous week as hurricane Florence had started its approach with the rain beginning to fall and the temperature dropping. We drove out fo the state in increasingly wet conditions. Then whilst doing final preparations in New Jersey the aftermath of this storm had started to drift north causing it to become much cooler and wetter in the process. I had just assumed those same conditions would slowly drift north. Fortunately not! A high pressure engulfed the part of Canada we were cycling through with cloudless skies and one seriously burning hot sun. There was already some interesting tan lines with various bits of cycling apparel. The mornings ride took us through corn country with significant sections that were as straight and flat as an arrow with only the odd pothole providing a slight deviation in our route. Later on we ended up stopping by the riverside and after admiring how clear the water looked and how tempting it was for a swim we finally broke. After one of the team dove in, the rest of us quickly followed, most of us diving straight in with our cycling kit on. They may have padded shorts but we were fairly certain this heat would dry them out in no time. It turned out to be a fairly long and hard day but filled with some luxuries.  On the outskirts of Montreal we spotted an ice cream and chocolate shop called Talie Chocolat, quickly pulling over and were soon spoiled by the taste and selection of treats. An ice cream and some of their home made cold chocolate milk hit the spot after a hot days cycle! Getting back on our bikes, we had hardly ridden at all when we overshot our destination. After some road and traffic negotiations we made it to our final stop of the day. 

This marked the start of some challenging days a head with the distances increasing. This meant there was to be less rest in the evenings, our days would start as the sun began to rise. Meandering out of the towns as the commuter traffic began to start up. The mornings were glorious. Sunrise provided some beautiful sites across open fields and forests, silhouetting the riders a head. It was my favourite part of the day, picturesque and the temperature at its best. Not to cold or too hot. I felt like I could ride for hours during those early morning sections and in many ways it reminded me of the conditions riding in the UK. The first of these was a 210km day. Our route taking us a long the St Lawrence river in the region of the Thousand Islands. The flat meandering road provided the odd opportunity for a bit of a sprint mid cycle ride to break up the monotony with a mixture of thrill and dread given the distance still to ride. I ended up making the decisions late in the process as some of them had broken away making catching them and then continuing on all the more difficult.  The bursts of speed along with the spectacular views made for a long but epic day. Although some of the team went for a dip I didn’t feel quite as overcome by the heat as the previous day so held off. We did however find ourselves at a vineyard. Like the original Tour de France fuelled by wine we pulled over for a small glass. Sitting there looking out over the vines and having a few sips of wine. The remainder of the day cycling through Prince Edward County. With some incredible views and great roads to cycle along. 

At the end of our 210km day it really felt like we had broken the back on the ride with the longest distance day over. 

As we edged ever closer to Toronto the route began to meander away from the city in a bid to get as little traffic as possible. This resulted in us taking a few dirt tracks, which on our road bikes was a fun little challenge. One of the team however was on a fat bike (and had been for the entirety of the bike ride so far) who was now in his element storming up the dirt road hills as we tried desperately to avoid getting a puncher. Just before the finish we even had time for a stop at a skate board park where some of the riders tested out their skills down stairs and around the park. We finished the penultimate night with a team BBQ. A perfect way for brining the ride to a finish before we arrived at the finish to be dragged in multiple directions as friends, family and colleagues were expected to be at the finish line the following day.

The final day arrived all too soon, thinking back to hours in the saddle to reach this point. All the sites, sounds and experiences we had over the last week as we cycled across part of Canada. It had been a great experience that was coming to an end all too soon.  Although the final days distance was only just over a 100km we needed to be done by midday and we did not want to be late. WE rolled out of the hotel car park very much in the commuter traffic for the first couple of hours as we weaved about the roads, past traffic and picking up a few last punctures for the trip. It was also due to be the hilliest of the days. A perfect way to finish the ride. We set off at a steady pace. But as the day progresses the excitement of finishing built up. There were a few more direct road sections to complete and then a final coffee and cake break where we met up with some of the other riders before hitting the hills. The hills provided a chance to see some of the training area for some of the riders compared to a lot of the relatively flat riding around central New Jersey. With it being the final day we let loose a bit of the hills chasing one another up and up the switch backs to the summit. This was a glimpse of what was to come. Its safe to say the last miles were very much a sprint finish. It started with some decent chases between stopping points, where I found the limit of my gears where some of the group were able to keep peddling downhill mine had reached the limit as I effectively free wheeled down until i could start getting some purchase on the gears. Once we re-grouped into our now tight knit peloton we entered the final 20 - 30km to the finish for a brief lunch stop prior to the final km’s for the finish. Our speed cranked right up, our heads were down and fortunately the cooler weather fo the final day helping with this final speed burst. It certainly made me appreciate the level pro riders operate at as i think our speeds still paled into insignificance to their coasting riding speeds. Reaching the outskirts of suburbia it was time to start winding down the speed whilst we worked our way through the streets and suddenly we were at the final stop of the ride. The place was to try and ride into the finish as one huge group. There were two groups of multi-day riders then another 50 or so riders who had gone out for day rides. Unfortunately with punchers and mechanical issues slowing up some of the groups we had to make the final miles before all groups could make it as apparently there was quite the crowd building at the finish. Cycling the final few kilometres to the finish as a group of maybe 30 - 40 riders we came round the final corner to roaring crowd of supporters.

We had cycled from Quebec City to Toronto over 7 days with single and multi day riders. The team had overcome challenges from punchers, mechanical issues and a couple of unfortunate crashes. After just over 1000km we all managed to cross the finish line safe, sound and up for more cycling!! 

All that was left was to disassemble my bike for the return journey back to the US.  

Mt Mitchell - North Carolina

This was the first long holiday of the year and after much debate we had settled on exploring Asheville and the Black Mountain area in North Carolina. Renowned for outdoor activities and a lot of breweries! The first task was for a casual 11 hour drive down to the area from New Jersey. With a car full of people and kit. Loaded up with snacks for the drive we began making our way south.

One of the first spots we visited was a natural slide. Hidden in Pisgah National forest we braved the slightly cooler weather for the chance for a wild swim. By the time we got there their were only a few people milling about and sliding down the rock face into the plunge pool at the bottom. With it being the end of the season we had definitely avoided the crowds which you could imagine being the norm in the heat of the summer. After spending some time sliding down and hiking up it was time to head on back to our base for the next few days. 

Sliding Rock

After checking out the weather that evening and various trails available we settled on heading up Mt Mitchell. Mt Mitchell itself was high on the wish list for our time there. Partly because its the highest peak east of the Mississippi and eastern North America (when you exclude some of the Arctic region) standing at 2,037m or 6,684 feet. Making it about 400ft taller than Mt Washington up in New Hampshire or roughly 2,200 feet taller than Ben Nevis in Scotland. The mountain and surrounding area have an interesting history as well. Originally the Cherokee tribe were one of the more prominent in the Black Mountain region until settlers took over the region. Since then it was first climbed by a French Botanist and Explore named Andre Michaux (who commenced quite a few expeditions from New Jersey & New York). Making a climb to the top all the more relevant having travelled from New Jersey albeit far easier to get there compared to his travels. A Professor from the University of North Carolina, Elisha Mitchell, explored and studied the height of the mountain before confirming it as the highest mountain in the East of the US. He later unfortunately went on to die on the mountain after an accident. 

The trail up Mt Mitchell

In the 1940’s a road was created along a ridge that runs 469 miles between Virginia and North Carolina, with a stop off at the summit of Mt Mitchell, creating the Blue Ridge Parkway. However since then the environment has had a tough time. A mixture of effects have been damaging the eco system. From logging and fires through to foreign invading plants and animals. The more recent effect has been acid rain, which is still to this day severely affecting the forest and killing many of the trees. In 1993 it was declared an International Biosphere by UNESCO. Despite the challenges it still has a rich environment. Its not surprising that its one of the most visited national parks in the US. Due to its popularity there are a variety of options to reach the summit including a drive almost to the summit or horseback ride. We opted to hike from the base starting at the Black Mountain campsite.

Blue Ridge Parkway meandering below us

The adventure started with the drive over there. Plugging the campsite in as the start point for our hike we soon found ourselves driving up a rough track road with ever tighter switch backs. Higher and higher we headed up the mountain. What we had not appreciated when going with the route the GPS suggested was that this would take us the off road route. It showed the importance of having a road map of the local area! It was quite the experience driving up with sheer drops to one side and some fairly impressive pot holes amongst other parts. It turned out the road should have already been closed for the season. We had managed to sneak through for a final ascent whilst they were conducting some maintenance. As we climbed our expected time of arrival got later and later. It felt like we had driven to the top of the mountain as we emerged onto the main and perfectly tarmacked road. Trying to find the second segment for the onward journey, which unfortunately had been closed for the season, we began searching for alternative routes. After trying a few different ones we were finally heading in the right direction on the only remaining route to get to the start of the trail head. The trail started from the Black Mountain camp ground. We soon enough arrived far later than expected but there nonetheless . The campground is tucked in beneath the mountain. Parking up we crossed over a bubbling river to get into the camp group which was filled with campers and surrounded by towering trees. 

Some wooden signs directed us towards the start of the trail, with a fairly flat section to warm us up into the hike a head of us. This however did not last long. We soon found ourselves in amongst the trees and working our way up wards. The cooler weather making for some perfect conditions for hiking. 

One of the plants of interest for the day was poison ivy having spoken to a few people about the various poisonous plants in the US. We had spent some time over breakfast reading a few warnings and articles about poisoned ivy, oak and a few other plants as well as how to spot them. We were on the look out for these plants in a bid to avoid them. Not being your flora expert anything that looked remotely similar suddenly became a hurdle to overcome. Not wanting to be covered in the resin that these plants secrete which waits up to 48 hours before revealing the blisters of the infected area. Unfortunately you can spread it around during this time so in the event of getting it on your hands imagine all the places you might touch during a 48 hour time period….

Slowly but surely we made our way further and further up wards. With most of the mountainside covered in forest we did not have much of an opportunity to take in the views around us. Until we reached a small clearing which had been carved out to make way for a electricity pylon that was strung up the side of the mountain and also headed for the top albeit in a much more direct fashion. Straight up. This gave us a small glimpse into what we would see from the summit and it was already pretty spectacular. 

I find it fascinating seeing how the environment changes as we meandered our way along and higher up the mountain. We passed through thick groves of rhododendron’s as we climbed and the scenery slowly changed from chestnuts and oak trees to fir trees as we made our way higher and higher. Unfortunately we didn’t see any flying squirrels or local black bears. Admittedly not seeing a bear up close although an amazing experience would have been a bit nerve racking for the group and the bear. 
You can read about my last bear experience in the link below

We were not disappointed on reaching the summit. The 360 degree views were pretty awe-inspiring. We even met some cyclist that had made a bid for the summit under their own power as well. Munching away of some snacks before the second leg of the journey we watched large grey clouds moving in on the area. With the weather on the turn and due to it taking longer than expected to reach our actual starting point we made the decision to make a dash for the bottom rather than continue along the ridge to some other nearby peaks. Part the way down the first rain drops started to make their way through the foliage. We stopped briefly for an attempt at some easy bouldering before pressing on quickly to the bottom. We got back down in pretty quick time, with the rest of the evening to explore the nearby town and its array of Breweries and Bars. 

The Weather Turning

If you are interested in reading a bit more on Mt Mitchell and the surrounding area the link below has a bunch of info.
https://www.ncparks.gov/mount-mitchell-state-park/ecology

Views from the Summit

Trail Run Racing North East USA

I recently took part in my first running trail race in just over a year and prior to that one it has been a couple of years. It also happened to be my first since arriving in the USA.

The race was along the Shawangunk ridge in the state of New York. It's a beautiful part of the state as well as being a tree covered ridge line with enough hills to add to the difficulty. The event had 4 choices of race lengths; 70, 50, 30 miles and half marathon distances. Each followed the same route you just jumped onto the course at different stages along the way. The beauty of it being point to point is the added interest along the trail. When looking out for races I managed to find a large number of them in the northeast of the US that did laps of a trail circuit. Both options have different benefits. But for my first one back in a while a point to point was perfect. You can check out the race details on the link below

https://www.longpathraces.com/shawangunk-ridge-trail-run

I had opted for the half marathon, having not had a suitable amount of time to train up for some longer I was thinking of using it to get me used to races run in the US as well as a good stepping stone to some longer events later in the year. 

Turning up to the event early on a cloudy and cool Saturday morning I had estimated my finishing time. Not on many hard facts for this one just rough estimates based on the distance. As I got chatting to people at the start line it transpired that my estimation was probably off, a quick time for the half marathon and winning time the previous year was just over the 2 hour mark. Along with this a number of people mentioned various points in the course where it was difficult finding the route. There are route markers but they are intermittent and are just the normal Shawangunk ridge trail markers, rather than any additional ones being used other than at the end where some occasional additional red strings of tape had been used. I picked up the map which being for the full length of the course (70 miles long) didn't provide great detail on a side of A4 to really navigate by. With the route on my gps I thought this would suffice. But after speaking to the fellow runners I decided to try to download the route map onto my phone as a back up. Being out in the middle of  nowhere with limited reception this took until part the way through the race to download fully. Better late than never. 

My first yellow bus journey

Boarding a couple of yellow school buses at the finish line we headed to where the half marathon started. It was my first time on one of these American icons. Boarding the buses made me realise the vast array of runners from whippets at the front to experienced runners right through to those who fancied the challenge for a weekend. Arriving at the start line we all bundled out and did our final preparations before the race started. This along with the race briefing where getting lost was mentioned again. I hoped this would not be me...

We were set off in waves according to our running numbers and I quickly got into a rhythm following behind a few people. We were making good progress along the trail and had made the transition from the little tributary of a trail the half marathon started on to the main trail. It followed beneath pine trees on a hard packed trail as the day began to heat up. Well above the temperatures I was expecting. Rather than being in the mid teens (60F range as I get into the US metric) it was well into the high 20's ( high 70F low 80's).

All was going well till we passed another runner but he was heading in the other direction. It turned out the girl who I was following was his wife. They had a brief chat and she carried on. Now I assumed that he had come out to meet his wife on the trail and as she had continued on we must be heading on the right direction. Turned out this wasn't the case he was doing the 70 miler and we were going the wrong way. About 15 to 20 of us spread out along this part of the trail. Checking and re-checking the maps we turned around and headed promptly back in the reverse direction. We had travelled about 30 mins round trip in the wrong direction. Not ideal on a race that was already due to be a tough half marathon.

Turning around and it was back the way we had come. Sweat already soaking through my top. I met up with a runner who it turned out spent a lot of time of the years running in the area and knew some of  the tougher sections of the course. It was great way of passing the time chatting away as well as getting some local insight on the course or at least pointing out some cool looking areas which I may have otherwise just run past without looking up. Despite being hard packed trail we had already passed one guy limping the other way having gone over on his ankle on one of a number of roots, which I had almost slipped on as well. The trail meandered along a spectacular ridge line with views up into the Catskills. The odd tree hinted at the transition to autumn or fall with the colours beginning to change but there was still a way to go for the real show to begin.

Views from a clearing

Making it to the second a final check point marked the start of a long ish up hill section. As well as a short scramble through a boulder field to reach the top. A definite possibility for some scrambling or potentially some bouldering at a later date. I had heard the area was famous for roped up climbing as well. 

Making it to the top and my legs still felt pretty good I bid farewell to my running buddy for the morning and headed off. The trail flattened out and was beginning to descend towards the finish I passed by one of the 70 mile racers who was running in sandals although he was doing incredibly time wise looked to be struggling a bit. Think I would have looked distinctly worst at that stage of a 70 mile run! The heat of the day had clearly had an impact on me as I could feel the odd twinge of cramp setting in. I just hoped a random movement wouldn't set it off. Easing up on the pace for a bit I was trying to minimise the risk of it happening before picking up again. The course by this stage was a gentle descent through cool and damp under growth. With old pine needles littering the floor making for a soft cushioning feeling for the body. 

Warm conditions out on the course

I came across a few more runners not really knowing which course they were on I greeted them as I passed them by on route to the finish. Coming round the corner and I was greeted to the bridge I had driven under earlier in the day. By now the day had well and truely cleared from the initial clouds of the early morning to reveal the view across the valley. I quickly stopped to admire the view before the final few hundred metres to the finish line. 

Crossing the finish line and being welcomed to cold drinks, a toast with a very small beer and a slice of pizza was a perfect finish for the race. Before making a rather sweaty journey back south again. 

16th place in 3hrs 10mins. Shouldn't have got lost for 30 mins! 1st place was completed in 2hrs 8mins. I think i will be back for one of these events next year.

Blinded by the sun a great shot...

Got any race recommendations? Or have any questions about trail run racing? 

Catskills 3500

Not long after moving to the US I came across the Appalachian mountain club in my search for some backcountry skiing. After chatting with some fellow skiers they introduced me to the Catskills 3500 club. It's a group who wish to climb the highest 35 peaks in the state of New York. To "officially complete" the 35 peaks you have to repeat 4 specific ones in winter as well. Since spending more time with the guys  and girls in the group many have finished their first round and are now well into multiple rounds. More on that later.

the 35 peaks within the Catskills

Every Saturday and Sunday throughout the year they have a selection of hikes. One free weekend earlier I got in touch with the groups leader. Not long later we got a reply saying we were all good to join them. These guys volunteer their personal time to take other folk up the mountains. There are of course safety briefings and waivers to be signed but none the less a cool experience just being able to rock up and meet someone who knows the mountains, surrounding areas and of course where to get some great food and drink afterwards. 

First up was a couple of mountains called Vly and Bearpen. It was described as a bush wack. Sounding much more like an exploration through the Australian outback than some mountains in the north east of the USA. Which a bit like "mountains in Scotland" are not quite the alps but some brilliant playgrounds nonetheless.

Waking at the crack of dawn we made our way up north on what has become a standard weekend route. Coming across an ideally placed Starbucks on route for a coffee boost before the walk. This was also to become part of our Catskills hiking routine as long as we hadn't overslept the 5 or 5.30 am alarm on a Saturday or Sunday morning.  

Rocking up we met up with a whole variety of people who had travelled from near and relatively far to hike these mountains. Unlike the vast majority of the UK version of 3000+ ft's these mountains turned out to be coated in a landscape of trees. Making it difficult to see or in some cases know when you have reached the summit. 

We made our way up a muddy track past some go kart like off road vehicles making our way steadily up the mountain. The canopy of trees above us shading us from the increase heat of the sun as it began to rise above us. We soon reached the point where the "bushwack" began. A cross road and the saddle between the two peaks. Turning off the main path we wondered along what looked like a sheep track heading in a meandering fashion upwards. The odd tree marked with a blue splosh which turned out to indicate the boundary of a local land owner. The false summits came across even more bizarre as with all the trees in the way it was seriously challenging to work out whether the peak had been reached with no visual clues to go by. We passed a sign marking the crossing of 3500ft and the start of the no camping zone. Rounding the corner we came to a clearing with a can suspended high up on one of the trees. It turned out this small area marked the summit. Opening the can up we signed our names to show we had completed the hike to the top before turning back round and heading down to the saddle of the mountain. It was still mid morning as we reached the saddle. Being out in the hills in a new environment felt like an incredible experience and with it still being mid morning by the time we reached the saddle where we had cut off the main track very satisfying to think we had seized the day to get up here so early. 

Vly down and on wards and up wards to Bear pen.

One of the cool aspects of these mountains is how visible the changes in flora are as the altitude and direction of the slope change. From dark and damp corners with lush vegetation dripping with droplets of water to the upper slopes covered in pines which look stunted in growth. We also witnessed areas on a number of summits showing what happens when the trees are cleared. Although revealing gorgeous views over the valley the irony is the scar left on this lookout point of a treeless, dry, bare patch of soil and rock on what otherwise from above looks like a pristine environment.

We meandered our way past a closed up cottage which made me think of the books I read on cabins in the far flung reaches of Canada and Alaska such as in call of the wild. 

Heading up the hill we soon made it to the top. I was thinking it would be more like the alps with treeless summits and potentially the chance for some paragliding. Instead the narrow passages back down the mountain between trees Im sure would make for a daunting if not virtually impossible take off point. We came across another group who had a 70 and 80 year old in their group. I very much hope I'm still hiking up mountains at that age!! As we got chatting to the group it transpires one of them had once owned a now long gone ski slope that was once situated on the mountain. Some remnants of the lift we still evident on the hill side. 

A quick bite to eat we headed back down the way we had come and out to the cars at the base of the hill. Our first two US 3500 footers. The day was still pretty early so we opted for searching out a good place to eat. We came across a place called the gunk house. Recommended in an awesome wee book called 36 hrs in New York and the east coast. Serving up wholesome German inspired food food overlooking mountains and apple orchards. 

Now just 33 summits to complete....

Since then we have knocked off a few more and are almost half way at 23 to go.

If you are in the north east of the US check out:

http://catskill-3500-club.org/ - for the catskills 3500 club

http://www.outdoors.org/ - for the Appalachian mountain club

And for those in the UK why not set the challenge of the munros, corbetts or wainwrights 

https://www.themountainguide.co.uk/highest/

Kite Skiing - In the White Mountains

For the last couple of years I have been playing around with kites trying to get into kite surfing and although I haven’t done masses it is something i have really enjoyed. 

Back in the winter months I met up with Jamie from our Baffin Island expedition with the idea of heading to the white mountains for a spot of kite skiing and any other mountain activities we could squeeze into the time up there. 

A couple of weeks out and the conditions were looking great. We were then hit by a heat wave as I watched the snow quickly melt. It was February and instead of spending the weekend skiing I was down on jersey shore in shorts and a t-shirt flying a kite instead. 

Despite hoping for a final dump of snow it never came as we hit the road for the drive north. Conditions in Quebec looked marginally better but the additional day spent in the car wasn't going to be worthwhile. We soon found ourselves reaching our destination of Conway. A wee town with mountains on its door step. 

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The following day we met up with our instructor Zeb who has amassed an amazing breadth of experience in kiting and any activity that involves the mountains to the ocean. The conditions for the week were quite mixed which provided a perfect balance of classroom time going through theory of kite flying as well as working through everything kite related from setting it up to taking it down quickly and under control. All in the warmth of the mountain store. 

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Indoor Kiting Skills

As conditions improved we headed out to a nearby frozen potato field. Patches of ice shone turquoise blues in the sunshine. Pulling out the kites we laid them on the ground. Stretching out the lines as we had done been practising, it was certainly a different sensation doing it with large mitts on rather than board shorts . The final part of hooking ourselves in and putting our skis on. 

One of the biggest differences of kite skiing vs kite surfing is you don't have the same challenges of the water start and that initial period of having to get just the right amount of pull to get yourself out of the water. Instead you are standing as we launch the kites and as soon as they pick up enough power we are soon gliding across the snow and ice. 

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Kiting Conway

As we got more used to the kites and conditions are confidence grew. We were soon zooming across the ice. We would occasionally hit patches of hardened ice where our skis would skip and skid as we tried to find some grip and purchase on our edges. 

The next step was heading up wind. This involved digging our edges in even harder  and working the kite in the wind to start tacking in the direction we wanted to head in. Bit by bit we began to get the hang of it making it slightly further up wind with each attempt. There were of course mistakes along the way as we got to grips with the setup. Factoring in trees, the large overhead watering system, the odd pipe and the occasional patch of solid ice was certainly different to kite surfing. And a bit like how I was told there are either paraglider who have hit a tree or those who will the same seems to hold true with kite skiing. As we got one of the kites spectacularly held up in one of the trees. Fortunately there was no spectacular crashes of being lifted into the air and ceremoniously dumped onto the ground.  

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Working our way up wind

As the week wore on our confidence grew along with our skills we were soon making it up to ends of the field we had been looking at all week. To continue spicing things up we also started including drills to take them down quickly in an emergency. 

It had been a fantastic week with a huge amount to absorb but we both certainly wanted more time playing about with kites in the snow. Packing up we were sad to see the mountains grow small in the mirrors as we made our way south to warmer less mountainous areas. 

Of course only a couple of weeks later the snow finally came and temperatures plummeted.

Windiest Place on Earth

Mount Washington The chance to ski on the windiest place on earth. Why wouldn’t I turn that option down.

Not long after moving to the North east I found out about an organisation called the Appalachian mountain club who were organising a ski tour up the Cog railway on mount Washington. Situated in an incredible area known as the white mountains in New Hampshire. Mount Washington I quickly discovered once had (only relatively recently beaten into second place) the highest recorded surface wind speed outside of a tropical storm coming in at 231mph.

It isn’t the closest ski area but with the warmer than usual temperatures in the north east it was always going to be about travelling further north to get the best snow possible. Unlike the previous weekend, the temperatures had certainly begun to cool down. As I started to make the drive north the weather began to change and by the end of the night it was snowing. I was seriously looking forward to getting out the car after a fairly brutal 7 hour drive after a full days work. As much as I wanted the snow I didn’t really fancy the slowing down of the journey.

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Arriving at the lodge I crashed out as soon as I hit the mattress, it didn’t feel like many hours later than the first people began to stir, all trying to get the best conditions for the day. Munching a quick breakfast all washed down with large mugs of coffee, I made my way to the meeting point. Now despite it once having the highest recorded wind speed on earth there is still a railway to the summit along with an access road. Our plan was to follow the train tracks up the mountain and once out of the tree line see what the conditions were like. Summiting was highly unlikely with forecasts of high winds and a thick layer of cloud covering it.

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I had enjoyed the ski mountaineering racing but this was a completely different experience again. The pace obviously much more sedate with the emphasis being on efficiency and trying not to sweat. Compared to my race strategy of trying to go as fast and efficiently as possible. Which was more of a brute strength and endurance exercise. And certainly less care for the amount of sweating going on. It was however a lot colder, hovering around the -5 to -15F , a balmy -20 to -26C and the  wind chill on top. Despite this it still felt quite warm as we meandered up hill surrounded by trees which looked incredible. Like frozen statues dotted all the way up the mountain side. Pausing occasionally to have a drink and admire the views behind and in front of us, despite the large bank of clouds hiding the summit. It wasn’t the blue bird day we had all hoped for but still fantastic being out on the mountain.

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Arriving at the first split point and we soon bundled up as the temperature plummeted. We had come out of the trees and the wind now had us in its sights. The rail line had clearly taken the full force of this onslaught for quite a while as its frozen structure looked like something from another planet. Not even in the arctic had I seen buildings covered in ice to this extent.

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A few of us opted to continue slightly further up the mountainside. It is safe to say we needn’t have bothered. All that proceed was some skating around on an icy surface of wind stripped mountainside. We tried to get purchase on what little friction we could get but despite this effort we hardly made it any further up for a lot more huffing and puffing. With the wind battering our faces and bodies it was only sensible to head back down. There was no chance of a summit today and the possibility of some better powder round the corner was never going to happen without some more hardware of ice axes and crampons. Even then we were not convinced there would be any great powder.

It was a quick turn around to get out the wind. I say quick but the ice and strong winds made it tough work wrapping up our ski skins to get them put away. Its like trying to roll loose duck tape up in a strong gale into a neat organised bundle.

And then the bit we had built up for, the ski down. Despite the odd patch of ice there were some great stretches of powder. The three of us who had tried to go a bit higher made the most of the descent getting in as many tight wee turns to float on the powder. In the hunt for some I managed to find a fairly lightly covered rock. Skiing over it I stopped almost instantly, trying to recover my balance from the forward momentum only to finally pop out of my bindings. Unfortunately one of the guys saw the whole thing unfold in a particularly slow and  inelegant fashion.

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We made it down to the bottom and back to the lodge for a well deserved hot shower and drink.

The next day I headed up to the in famous tuckermanns ravine. You can check out a couple of pro skiers hitting this on the link below:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CM7YknhIKeU

It isn’t recommended generally to ski it until later in the season but whilst in the area I at least wanted to have a peek at what it was all about. I followed the trail up which is incredibly well marked. Past people snow shoeing up and a number of groups up for the weekend as part of a nearby ice festival learning about avalanche rescue techniques. The wind certainly felt less strong and it was definitely a warmer day than the previous one. Snow occasionally fell from the trees. It was a pretty magical sight.

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Slowly but surely the ravine revealed itself. Each glimpse between the trees showing a bit more until I came round the corner and caught sight of the whole area. With clear views of the summit of mount washington in the background. There in front the huge tuckermanns ravine and the steepest ski descents in the north east, or at least one of the better known ones.

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Arriving at a small cabin and there were groups continuing up as part of their avalanche course as well as some skiers who despite the now windy conditions had opted to try a few routes. It looked pretty incredible and in places pretty intimidating even from a distance. I headed on up the mountain as I wanted to see the full face of it. Some of the slopes are up at 40 - 50 degree range. The wind had certainly picked up though and I was now taking a bit of a beating even if it was warmer than the previous day. Arriving at the bottom of tuckermanns and I could finally take it it. I definitely want to return to the slopes here and take on some of these descents.

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Heading back down the mountain and my legs could finally enjoy a bit of a down hill ski. After trekking up it made for a nice change. Despite this I still had to walk a few bits at the top due to not being able to find a decent route to ski down as well as the path I walked up being really quite tight between rocks, trees and a small stream that with the warmer conditions wasn’t completely covered in snow.

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I soon found myself down the bottom  of the mountain just in time to munch a load of food in the car and before the return journey back down south to new jersey.

A long day in the Ben Lawers

With a waterproof map case at the ready this time we headed back to where we had started he previous day. It was a bit of a déjà vu. The weather hadn't really improved but we set our sights on the Ben Lawers and the first summit of Beinn Ghlas opposite the previous day's attempt. All being well we would continue on peak by peak and see how we got on with the aim of doing a wee circuit.

The first part of the walk took a route through a protected part of the hill. It was amazing to see how diverse the wildlife was there compared to the normal heather covered hills. Would be awesome to see those areas increased!

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Heading on up we were in the shelter from the wind heading up switch backs towards the summit. We soon arrived, feeling good and the weather not being too bad despite being wet, windy and very cloudy we continued on.

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Heading up Ben Lawers was equally quick. With no spectacular views to be distracted by we headed on to An Stuc. The route up was fine then coming over the summit the track leads down a crumbling, rocky and steep path. Fortunately it was in the lee side of the wind, it was certainly an interesting route down and one I would say was much more challenging than some of the ridge scrambles I have done in the past. Making our way down we soon reached the next shoulder to make out way a long.

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Our route then slowly took us back up to the top of Meall Garbh. The temperature had begun to drop and the wind picked up. We huddled just beyond the summit having a munch to eat and a check of the map for our route. Following a fence line almost all the way to the summit of the final rolling mounds of the last Munro of the day. This section of the route was one of the wetter and muddier parts of the day. With our boots sinking into the thick peattie mud. Some areas previous people had dropped leftover planks and fence posts into some of the more boggy areas in an attempt to create a basic bridge across. These made for a fun balancing act mid walk. Marching on up the final ascent we reached the top where we were finally below the cloud level and could admire the route we had take along the ridge line. A quick bite to eat before dashing down the hillside to a small track servicing a number of mini dams along the hillside. It was an interesting network of mini dams spread across the all the main tributaries and redirecting the water back to a few main dammed up areas. It was pretty impressive. Trekking along and soon the heavens opened. After being dry most of the day we were soon walking a long hoods up and very much looking forward to a hearty evening meal.

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We had been using a cicerone guide to the region which suggested taking a beeline traversing around the hillside along a back to the car park. In principle it was a good idea. It was the most direct route. However once we started it proved to be slow going. With a number of small ravines to negotiate along with the sodden ground our boots and clothing were soon clean of any mud. My ankle still recovering from the previous event didn't appreciate the unevenness of the ground and despite the drop in height we opted to get into the road as soon as possible before regaining the height. In retrospect it might have been quicker heading all the way down to the loch side before heading back along to the turn off.

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Making back to the car we were one of the last out of the car park. It had been a fantastic day. Although we weren't initially sure about heading round the full ridge it was certainly worthwhile.

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 Munro's:

An Stuc

Beinn Ghlas

Ben Lawers

Meall Garbh

Meall Greigh

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Although the week hadn't gone quite as we had planned we had achieved between us the total of 30 munros in a week as part of a celebration for our 30th this year. Made me really appreciate the effort that it would take to take on something like the bob graham or the Ramsey round.

Weather is on the Change

Looking at the mountain weather forecast for the coming days was not great reading. Cloud free summits at between 10% and 30%, rain heavy at times and wind speeds hitting gale force levels as the days went on. Perfect Scottish walking conditions.

The plan was to go for 4 munros for the day. Heading up the valley we soon spotted a vey clear path on the opposite side of the river to the part we were walking on. Our track soon came to an end as we trudged back to the start.

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Finding our way through yet more wet sticky bog to reach the path we had seen became an interesting challenge in itself with elements of the route feeling more like a series of small streams. We finally made it onto the path and route up the valley we had spotted previously. It was also at this point that we spotted the route we could have taken if we had continued slightly further a long our original route on the other side of the river.

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All about us small streams trickled off the mountain side allowing us to stop for an occasional drink from these whilst basking in the sunshine. It was starting out to be a glorious day. Heading up the onto the saddle between a few hills the wind hit us. Clearly we had been sheltered by this in the lower valley.

A head of us lay a large swathe of boggy ground before the initial ascent of ciste dubh. The start of the route zig zagged its way up through soft, thick brown sludge. As we came over a crest of the main ridge taking us too the top lay in front of us. It was a spectacular sight.

Overhead the clouds were beginning to build and the wind pick up. We continued trudging on up with a shear drop to one side and a steep slope to the other and views over the nearby lochs it was building up to be the favourite summit of the tour. The thought of these being snow covered and skiing down these slopes would be incredible with the right conditions.

The final part of the ridge was marked by a series of false summits. Each once getting our hopes up before another peaked its head above again. Finally reaching the top, the views were spectacular. After spending the previous day on a ridge line being on a single Munro surrounded by the other peaks was incredible despite meaning we had to go all the way back down before making another ascent.

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Despite some of the challenges on the way up, the down was remarkably quick. And we were soon heading up the other side, a steep grassy slope towards the next summit. The winds were really beginning to build up and we only stopped briefly at the top before heading up toward the next summit. As we dropped onto the saddle the winds would increase until we were back into the shade of the ascent. Each time we got buffeted by the wind the temperature would plummet.

We were on a role but as we made our way towards the third summit of the day the wind was beginning to be a considerable force which with a considerable drop on the down wind side was certainly less than welcome. The winds were due to pick up to around 50mph. With this beginning to occur and a natural route down off the hills we made the decision to call it a day and head down.

The route off was initially a lot better than the previous day with a gentle decent back into the valley. This became less than ideal as we hit a fenced off wood land. Skirting round this was definitely possible but the ground was sodden and despite the wet weather a number of bugs and beetles sought refuge in our clothing, faces and hair. You could feeling them crawling all over us. Each one raising a number of expletives as we were attacked from all angles and our feet sank deep into muddy puddles.Hitting the main road was a delight.

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Despite our delight it was short lived as we became shocked at the amount of rubbish that lay just next to the roadside amongst the beautiful highlands.

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Don't leave a trace.

Munro's

Ciste Dhubh

Aonach Meadhoin

Visiting far places and cycling Great Glens

After a day of enforced rest due to yet more high winds. We opted for a tour to the furthest westerly point in mainland UK. Ardnamurchan.

This gorgeous peninsular involved a short ferry trip before creeping along the roads that meandered along the coastline. It was gorgeous particularly as the colours were changing as autumn approached. Behind us lay a bank of cloud while the sun shone down on this peninsular.

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We finally arrived at the end point. A lighthouse perched on a rocky outcrop and protected on all sides by stone built walls. We even became aquatinted to the local goat population. Before heading to a nearby beach to enjoy the white sandy beaches of Scotland. Almost like Barbados just a tad on the cooler side of things.

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The next day we woke early from our cosy glamping hut at wigwam. Our sights set on some nearby hills. Coming to our first option the wind began to increase and so we adapted our plan to a nearby summit. Later we found out this one was renowned for being windy. Making our way up the wind was increasing dramatically and the cloud level dropping. As we got closer to the top and with and the wind increasing substantially I thought it wiser to come down rather than to keep slogging for the sake of it. We managed it a few days later under slightly calmer conditions. The route up would have been ok particularly as the slightly more technical part of the route was in the lee of the wind.

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We made up for it with a fantastic cycle from Killin to Lochearnhead along a fantastic cycle route. The going was great heading quickly through the valley past streams and squeezing over cattle grids. We came across a Canadian cycling round Europe and was looking to head further north before it became too cold we headed our separate ways wishing him luck. With only an occasional shower and with the sun poking its head out we could enjoy the change of pace. Turning round we realised it had been a bit more of a downhill than we realised and the wind had been behind us. It was going to be tight with the bike hire place shutting. The last mile we lost our luck with the weather and it chucked it down.

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Finishing up we headed to our accommodation for the night. With views over the loch it was a gorgeous setting despite the clouds.

We certainly felt fresher for the more relaxed day and the cosy accommodation.

Munro Bagging

We started the week with an ambitious plan of routes, with the aim of bagging as many munro's as we could whilst meandering our way through the Scottish highlands. We had slight trepidation with the weather set to change for the worst. After a couple of weeks of good weather and the bank holiday on the horizon it was a big ask for a further week of dry weather.

Setting off for the most northerly point on our quest in our trusty Landy towards Glen Shiel and the gateway to the Isle of Skye. Arriving to a glorious evening where we ate at the nearby pub over looking Loch Duich before preparing for the next days long outing.

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We woke the next morning to an autumnal feel. Dew glistened on the grass and leaves whilst the colours looked like they were changing to slight hues of reds, oranges and yellows. It was looking to be a perfect day for a walk. Arriving at the start point we noticed a few other walkers covered from head to toe as if it was a freezing day. Getting out of the car we soon realised why they were covered as the Scottish midges were out and descended on us as fresh targets. I was nibbled within the few minutes I left my arms exposed.

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To escape the midges we quickly departed the car park and headed the meandering path towards the foot of the first munro. With hardly a breathe of wind we could hardly enjoy the view for a moment before they descended on us again, trying to nibble any exposed skin. The path began to zig zagging its way  up onto the ridge line where we were to follow for the day.

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Seven munro's stood before us on the South Glen Shiel ridge. Each hidden by the one before preventing us from seeing our finish point, which we were very thankful of in many ways. The day turned out to be a scorcher as our water began to run low and we certainly heated up.  Each summit was a mixture of rounded tops to the odd scramble. Despite this we met a few other walkers including a group on very good form despite not liking the occasional element of exposure.

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After a day of relatively good weather the final summit clouded over. With the guide book advising on a more direct route down to the main road we made a bid in this direction and soon picked up the start of a rough path. This however disappeared clearly at a point where people either turned back or everyone took on the ethos of "everyone for themselves". Making our down steep boggy ground with no signs of it finishing. Until we came across a sheep track that meander alongside a beautiful stream where we could top up on some more water. Not without its challenges as the bottle top fell off and floated down stream before securing it with a walking pole before it descended the next small water fall. The final section finished with a small detour through woodland. Slipping and sliding our way down through the wet under growth before arriving at the road side. We had been joined by a couple from Edinburgh for the final descent who we had a quick celebration with before attempting to hitch hike back to the cars to finish the evening.

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The pint of coke in the bar never tasted so good.

7 munro's down:

• Creag a' Mhaim,

• Druim Shionnach

• Anoach Air Chrith

• Maol Chinn-dearg

• Sgurr an Doire Leathain

• Sgurr an Lochain

• Creag nan Damh

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AN INTERLUDE IN CLYDE RIVER

(a blog from Jamie) As the wind smashed into the side of the first vehicle we had seen in thirty days, the driver wound down the window, winced at the force of the storm, and said cheerfully "welcome to Clyde River", thankfully pointing us in the direction of the RCMP detachment. We had made it. The last two days had seen us cover over 56km in dense fog, buffeted by withering winds that had steadily built to gusts of 40mph as a we crossed a seemingly endless succession of broken ice.

Clyde is a natural mid-point on our journey and the knowledge that this was such a key objective for us along with the incentives of walls, heating and possibly a hot shower meant we were willing to push hard to reach it. The journey up the last section of coastline has been long and windy; with extended days of hauling on broken ice making the trip physically hard work and meaning we needed to be extra vigilant to the risks of cold and fatigue. Our sleds however have been steadily lightened and as the daylight hours have increased as has our fitness and ability to push ourselves harder than before whilst staying at safe level of knackered and on the right side of exhaustion. With this has come the satisfaction of seeing our daily mileage start to climb and our spirits rise as the distances to Clyde began to become feasible measurements and no longer unobtainable distances that only existed in the realms of dreamers or those with motorised transport.

The final two days to Clyde were a bit of a crux for us. Two carrots were dangling; the first a hut at the edge of the peninsular which would be a welcome relief after the last seven days of windswept tundra and the second, Clyde, sitting out of sight but within touching distance, we could almost smell the fruit and vegetables in the Northern Store. We kicked off for the hut with a strong headwind that gradually faded away to leave us bathed in sunshine and enjoying the sight of the first big icebergs we had seen for weeks on the horizon. Like container ships gone astray and stranded against the frozen sea line, these mammoth blocks of floating water grow larger and taller as the sun distorts and stretches them into a mirage of illusions often to staggering proportions. These ice bergs often sit on the horizon for two or three days looming majestically over the flat ice like cathedrals of electric blue gracefully decaying in the Arctic sunshine. However, as you get closer they start to shrink rather than grow until as you reach and pass the block of freshwater you have been endlessly looking at it is no bigger than a decent sized church. Still impressive but not quite the Salisbury or Winchester-sized Gothic monument you were expecting.

We had a tough time over the rough ice surrounding the point and as we rounded the Cape and turned west the freshening breeze gave us cause to eagerly scan the horizon for the hut. As we have been disappointed so many times before this time we were ready for the lack of any human-made shelters and a good thing too. No visible hut. After a brief search we tucked into the headland and found the most sheltered spot we could, comforting ourselves in the knowledge that with a big effort the next day we would be in Clyde and hut or not, without today's slog those bright lights would still be out of reach.

Colin, who had been given bail the day before had steadfastly refused to be caught at night, even forgoing his dinner, stubborn little git and was duly caught that morning - his growling tummy overcoming his usual razor sharp wit and cunning. Similar to a slightly demented dribbling drunk, convinced that a dirty kebab is a good idea and that he can make a run for it from the large, knife-wielding owner without paying, not realising the glass door to the shop is closed - running straight into it and knocking himself out. Colin sulked for the rest of the day.

Despite securing Colin, we had awoken to a world of white. The fog had descended and enclosed us making the days difficult task even harder. As we set out we realised what a great camp spot we had chosen and the wind began to get stronger and stronger as we moved away from the sheltering coast line, battering us in the backs, pushing and urging us forward. The final blow came when after an hour we hit a patch of very rough ice that slowed us down to a crawl for the next two hours. Needing to make a lot of ground, we grunted and crunched our way through the blocks of broken sea, never seeing more than twenty yards ahead so never knowing when it might end. Thankfully it did end, and as we headed into flatter ice the clouds began drifting higher, and the land we were heading for came into focus giving us the shot of motivation we needed to believe there might still be a radiator at the end of the day. We continued slogging until finally the GPS said less than 1km to Clyde and with baited breath we scanned the horizon. When we were supposedly 300m away from a town of 1500 people and yet couldn't see an aerial, a post-box, even a skidoo trail we began to think something might be up. It turns out the Garmin coordinates for Clyde are 4.2k to the East of the town and with the wind now gusting above 35mph this was an extra few kms we didn't really need. Eventually however, out of the mist appeared a collection of man-made objects, first barely distinguishable then growing more solid and become the buildings, street lights and boats of an Arctic coastal town in the grip of winter.

As we dragged our pulks through town, too exhausted to realise fully that we had arrived, Clyde RCMP Detachment Commander Chris Moreau opened the front door of his house and said "you must be the British explorers", we both smiled and thought well I suppose we are now aren't we?

GINGERLOCKS AND THE THREE BEARS

(Jamie) It is northwards to Clyde and so northwards we went, leaving a warm and comfortable hut for the sea ice and our trusty tent once more. In good spirits and now both showing signs of good beard growth, things were looking up.

Growing facial hair has always been an issue for Benno so he has been delighted to start to show the signs of some serious progress on his chin and chops and I have been happy to see that his barb is also decidedly gingery in colour. It's an odd phenomenon that neither of has another ginger hair on our body, we have thoroughly checked, apart from the area between clavicle and nose. So leaving the hut, with a dash of the fox about us, we were determined to make a coastal point some 20km away but with our now reloaded sleds weighing in at around 50kgs heavier, life moved at a slower rate. We were both taken by surprise at quite how much more effort we were now putting in to move the sleds and our dream destination for the evening seemed sure to elude us. That is until we saw the bears- it's amazing what adrenaline will do for your daily mileage!

We had seen lots of tracks at the hut and criss-crossing our path for the past 6 hours, confidently announcing to each other that this was a male or here you could see a young mother and cub and that this track is clearly weeks old when Benno stopped and squinted at the horizon. “It's a bear” I replied as soon as I followed his finger and saw a mother and two cubs around 600m away, ambling along towards us very bear like and pausing occasionally to stand on hind legs to smell us and get a better view. Having rapidly dumped harnesses and grabbed shotguns, we secured Tala, hid the marmalade and loaded our bear bangers. As we watched the mother trundle closer who should we suddenly see bolting towards the bear at full pelt but Tala, having slipped her lead and seeing this as a wonderful opportunity to get aquatinted with her polar cousin. As the queen bee of Battersea Park and used to lording it over the Cockapoos and French Bulldogs, Tala is not lacking in self confidence and despite us shouting and swearing at her, she wasn't coming back for anyone. Benno and I watched in horrified silence both thinking this was going to end in one of two ways, neither happy. Tala would either get mauled or killed by the bear, very bad news meaning we would be left with only Colin who was trying his hardest to look in the other direction and pretend he couldn't see the bear, or Tala would get close enough to severely piss the bear off and when she realised this wasn't the big husky from the park and that maybe a play fight was out of the question she would run back towards us bringing an angry and irate mother bear with her. Tala however proved us wrong, she fully charged the bear, ears up, legs galloping, taking entirely airborne strides until the bear turned and with her cubs ran as fast as they could in the opposite direction. Tala chased her for around 600/700m, barked at the bear quite a lot as if to say " and don't come back" then turned round and strutted back to us looking very pleased with herself. Needless to say we weren't shouting at her anymore and she received lots of attention and praise once she had sauntered back to our position, head held high and in expectation of some flapjack for her bravery.

As the light faded and we watched the bear and Cubs saunter off into the dusk we decided to push on to put some distance between us and this large and powerful creature. It is a strange experience being separated from a large, hungry, predator by only an open stretch of flat sea ice and in some ways it felt as if we were watching the whole experience on the most vivid wide screen imaginable, which I suppose in some ways we were. Still it's nice to have a shotgun and a dog like Tala just in case you can't find the remote to change channel fast enough when things get a bit too real.

So we made the Point that evening and set off for our next destination, Cape Henry Kater. Having poured over maps looking at this area for many weeks it is always gratifying to arrive at a large, much anticipated check point as it helps validate the miles you have already completed and allows you to settle on your next objective. Having followed our neatly marked map exactly (EXACTLY) to the spot where the Inuit hunters had told us to cross the Cape, we were a little taken aback by the scale of the river valley running down the land. We had been told to expect a ‘steep bit’ at the beginning but the ravine slicing its way down a considerable Munro sized peak was not what we expected. Optimistic as ever we assumed the valley must level out behind and so began the bastard task of lifting the sleds over the 100ms or so of rocky beach and dragging them uphill. After one particular stint of shuttling the sleds up an increasingly steep slope we decided that a quick recce was in order to scout the terrain ahead and if this was a feasible or ludicrous undertaking. After 30 minutes it became obvious that getting a skidoo up this slope, let alone a 140kg man powered sled, would be a tough task and that turning round was the only feasible option. We walked back down to the sleds, which from our new perspective were resting on a slope resembling a challenging red run and we both marveled that we managed to get them that far uphill without realising maybe this was not the right route. We needed some help and when you are pissed off, shattered and confused on Baffin Island the only people to call are the Qik RCMP. We spoke to Chris and John first assuring them that we were fine and hadn't injured ourselves and asked that they tracked down Jaipotte for us, whose line on the map we had been diligently following. Thirty minutes later Jai was explaining to us that there is a hut to look for right by the valleys entrance and we were about 8km to the west of the position we needed and that our map was very hard to draw accurate lines on. We headed back down the slope as the sun began to fade, frustrated to have wasted a day, a huge amount of energy and our moods only briefly brightened when Colin managed to wrap Benno's legs up and send him down the slope head first as we were descending. Well it brightened my day although I daren’t laugh as B looked like he was about to skin Colin on the spot. That night was definitely a brownie night and we gratefully ate the last of Celine’s excellent treats and enjoyed her final quote which was, once again, oddly fitting.

The next day we found the hut and valley and with the river frozen our progress and morale increased as the day brightened up with the sleds skimming lightly over the still river despite going uphill. This was not to last. After 7k the river poured into a large frozen lake which was also easy to cross, however with the fog creeping in and an alarming uphill section in front of us we call it a day and camped in a shallow saddle. The next morning was bright and clear which revealed to us in all its glory the task that lay ahead; an undulating hillside, reminiscent of the Scottish highlands, dotted with incalculable rocks which poked menacingly through the snow. Jai's sage advice to "just follow the land" seemed a little optimistic now and so we headed North as best we could, aiming for the lowest saddle on the horizon and hoping to find a path through. The going was harder than either of us thought possible and always tinged with the knowledge that we didn't know if this was best course, having no map of a small enough scale to be of use for detailed navigation. The horrible small rocks sticking through the thin snow cover meant that we zigzagged constantly, often pulling for 5 or 6 metres for only 1 metre forward gained, all the while heading uphill. After 5 Hours of this we were both exhausted and beginning to feel cold despite the heavy work load, a sure sign we were running low on energy. Finally we crested the top of the saddle with the glorious sight of a flattish landscape ahead and in the distance the exit valley on the other side of the Cape clearly visible. Benno summed it up perfectly when he said "I feel a bit emotional".

Not only could we see that the land beyond was tolerably flat we also had a direction to aim for in the form of a topographical feature large enough to be clear on our maps, which put an end to those nagging doubts we were heading into a range of mountains. We trudged off down the hill exhausted and feeling depressed by the reading on the GPS telling us that despite all of our back breaking hard work we had only covered 6km in a straight line. The next day showed no sign of a letup in work load. Pulling pulks on anything other than flat terrain is horrible, any change in gradient is instantly noticeable and made painfully obvious by the biting of the harness into your back and yet we covered some good ground so slept thinking we would be back on the sea ice tomorrow evening. Oh what fools! Those last 16km proved to be every bit as difficult as the first section, constant ups and downs, rocks everywhere and the previously very obvious valley and river system slowly becoming a large drainage area for the surrounding marshes with many false exits and non -draining lakes meaning finding the actual watercourse was sometimes impossible. Both knackered from the previous 3 days our paced slowed and despite eventually finding he main river channel we both realised that this Cape was going to be the gift that kept on giving as night and the temperature dropped. Waking the next morning to a fresh breeze and -38 on the thermometer did little to lift our spirits and we packed in silence and headed back to the river channel. The sea ice was tantalisingly close now, less than 3km away and yet we weren't counting any chickens this time. The river had steepened into a ravine, obviously a powerful white water rapid during the spring melt, unlike the lovely little river we had pottered up on the other side this was steep, dotted with huge boulders and filled with deep snow. Despite going downhill we had to pull the sleds almost as hard as if we had been going uphill and on three occasions 20ft snow drifts filled the valley forcing us to do shuttle runs to get the sleds over the top. Finally we turned a meander in the river and there, spread before us was the ice, flat and inviting like a massive rink ready to be skated happily across.

I can now fully sympathise with a female turtle desperately hauling herself slowly and painfully up a beach to lay her eggs. Some things are meant to be on land, some things are not. Pulks, and the silly ginger bearded Brits pulling them, are definitely sea mammals and the relief and accomplishment we felt as we crossed the tide gap back onto the ice must be the same as the turtle as she slips gratefully back into the ocean. I do doubt that the turtle turns round to the land, gives it the finger and tells it to go f*$k itself, but it's nice to think that maybe in her own way she does and after all, who could blame her.

So off we went again, ignoring the map and the drawn line that pointed us towards the next Cape and the recommended over-land crossing, instead heading belligerently for the sea ice and a coastal route beyond where we belong.

"Whatever you think you can do, or believe you can do, begin it. Action has magic, power and grace." *Thanks Celine!!!

Nearly at the start line

Thanks to everyone for your messages over the last few days. Our launch date at the start of the week has been knocked back a little for a couple of reasons - firstly due to what we assumed was a minor airport-caused sniffle, but developing into full-blown respiratory infections for first Alex and Jamie soon after. Benno has miraculously side-stepped the biological onslaught. Secondly, our freight was nigh on destroyed by the carrier, so a half-day repack became three days of painstaking re-organisation and finding lost items. The weather has been stable at around -30 to -35 degrees and with a little wind, settling at around -40. It looks to be staying that way so it's really only our frustration that has suffered from the delay. It's been vital for Jamie and me to recover fully, otherwise we'd be sure to take another health dive after the toil begins. We think we're more or less there now and so, packed, we're looking to move north soon. A final factor is that the snowfall here so far this winter has been huge. Even skidoo-powered hunters are returning with news of tough surfaces. This means that we have taken the decision to ship some of our supplies up the coast to pick up later in the journey. In the interests of full disclosure, this means that although we will travel man-powered (what some still refer to as unassisted or unsupported), our status with now be 'with resupplies'.

The hiccup in preparations have allowed us to integrate into the community here in Qikiqtarjuaq and our heartfelt thanks go to Louis, the guesthouse host and enormously so to Chris, Glen and Halie from the Royal Canadian Mounted Police who have taken us into their home and offered every help possible.

So, with a brief show of the northern lights, hour on hour of repacking and wistful looks towards the headland we want to aim for first, we'll get going as soon as possible. We need to ensure we are all able to sleep fully the night without wheezing and major signs of illness and without any elevated temperature first though. Being impatient will only end in tears after all and we have time. The ice ahead appears to be 'okay'. A couple of broken sections which we'll avoid due to the bears that will congregate and the tough navigation they'll cause. Stay tuned to Twitter, the tracker and the blog all! Cheers.

Food for Thought

A lot of people ask how the trip works, what we will be taking with us and especially what food we will be eating.The expedition aims to be unsupported and unassisted. The unassisted part means we have to do it under our own power; no kites, dogs or any other method of assistance is allowed. Our dogs are being used solely for warning against possible risks from polar bears. The unsupported means that we carry everything with us from start to finish that we might need.

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To achieve this we are taking a huge amount of equipment, fuel and food. Each person will be pulling around the 250kg mark. This is the equivalent of 3 average sized adult blokes on a sled being dragged along. Or to put this into numbers 260 freeze dried meals 650 maxi nutrition protein bars, black friar flapjack and cake 70 large packs of chocolate buttons 60 packs of Wild West jerky Then a couple of treats like mixed nuts, wine gums or saucisson. Drinks include hot chocolate, tea and maxi nutrition shakes. These do vary between each team member but it gives you an idea of the quantity and volume of the food alone. This all results in us having 2 rather plump and considerably heavy pulks (sleds) to pull each.

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This is heavy on a flat icy surface but when it come to having any fresh powder or the gentlest of slopes then it's more like a rugby scrummage session. More of either can result in us having to shuttle our pulks along 1 at a time. Let the pulling commence!

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Preparation for going North

Preparation, preparation preparation Even more so compared to my previous races and expeditions this adventure has required far more planning and preparation. It's remoteness, environmental conditions where temperatures drop to -40C as well as the 1800 mile distance to be skied make our decisions and actions critical long before we reach the start line. This has meant there has been a huge amount to learn and understand from the route, kit, nutrition and climate factors. As well as how all these will change as there is a huge shift in temperatures through the season of winter into spring. On top of this we have the physical and mental aspects.

To conquer this we have spent many a sunny and rainy evening sitting round a table covered in an array of maps, kit, food, electronics and other assorted goodies going through it all. This has resulted in a few odd looks as we tried out some face masks whilst in a warm london pub. Many aspects to the trip are very similar to any other race, trip or expedition, the biggest difference is that a bit like in my Atlantic row there are no shops and the volume of kit is far higher. We will each be man hauling around 250kg worth of equipment at the start with everything we need for the entirety of the trip. For the 3 of us that is almost as much as the weight of our entire boat.

Getting ready to pull this has meant for all of us a large part of our time being spent doing exercise and more recently eating to gain the necessary weight to be in the best possible shape to pull this. I still enjoy being able to do a mixture of sports so my training has mixed cycling, running and the gym with climbing and whilst it was warmer stand up paddle boarding. All of this will come together for the expedition as we begin our traverse across the frozen arctic sea.