It was Andy’s 77th running and organising of his classic, midsummer, midwinter Crookestone Crashout which originally started as a there-and-back race from Rowlee Bridge to the Blackden trig. Wanting to liven up the race, Andy later changed the format from the standard course to a different one each time but always including a visit to Crookestone Knoll even when the start had to be moved to Fairholmes because of snow and ice on the road to the bridge. This race, Andy’s last summer one before handing over to Tom (S), was no exception and, to entice runners, he had announced that it was one of the shortest Crashouts. Indeed, we were never further than a mile from the start, unless, of course, we’d indulged in a walk/runabout. And indeed, judging by the discussions and debates before and after the race, it was quite possible to do so.
Uncharacteristically, the start was along the road from the bridge, so sprinting, if you could manage to, was allowed even for we early (6.15 and 6.30) mainly Slow Warts starters. This was the most straightforward bit of route finding in the race, the rest of it was, thankfully, riddled with choices. There is no easy way to reach the south east end of the Kinder plateau but, at least, there was a quad track leading up to the shooting butts to a very vague wall junction (CP 1) near number 3 butt. The route from here to the cairn on Nether Moor (CP 2) was indeed a riddle; continue up the butts towards but not to Madwoman’s Stones and across the moor to Jaggers Clough or, around to the Knoll and along the path to JC or contouring lower, round JC. A more direct line of vegetation bashing across the moor was good enough for Andy and I, leading us to the rather fast mown heather descent to Nether Moor. Every fast bit seems to have an associated slow bit and, even a previous glance at the burnt patches on Google Earth, did not prevent more subsequent heather and reed wading. However, fell running is not known as much of a spectator sport so it was a pleasure to have been encouraged by John D on the Moor as he was sensibly having a leisurely wander around the course. I tried to force a smile for him but it may have turned into a sort of grimace, an indication of my enjoyment at that point.
Graham heading to the cairn/spot height? Photo John
Here’s a confession which John may have witnessed. CP 2 was a small cairn, not spot height 444, however, I visited neither but since the RO also did the same, I felt it was alright to continue. I think we came within about 20 m from the cairn, there was no advantage gained and, if anything, there was some disadvantage. A previous recce of the route from CP 2 to CP 3 (a wall stream junction in JC) had revealed some all-devouring heather on the descent into Jaggers Clough so an alternative line taken by a re-entrant and small stream to the Clough (CP 3), seemed more successful. It also gave a view of the way out of the Clough up a bracken free but swampy line which Tom W and Moz were climbing up.
Apart from the start and a bit of the first climb, hardly any other runners had been seen and this quietness continued as Andy and I battled it out up a trod from JC, amazingly, most of the way up, via an old quarry to the edge path and to the Knoll (CP 4). On the descent from it, the sound of delicate footsteps behind and then well in front became apparent. They were from Olly (J) who had started at 7.00 so had caught up over 30 minutes, wow! He was closely followed by Tom (S) taking a different line, so, even from the Knoll to the finish, there was route choice. It was a close finish for them with Olly being 1 second in front.
There had been 20 starters, not the most there’s been for this race but they covered a wide range of abilities and ages from the likes of young ones like Tom and Olly to older ones in their seventies. Having accounted for all but one of them at the finish, there was a bit of concern for Willy who took a wider descent than most of us but he was fortunately seen a bit later, mainly because of his bright green shorts.
At the debriefing at the Yorkshire Bridge Inn, where else, we all agreed it was a splendid race, challenging, Harmerian, of course, short and packed into a small area, multum in parvo.
An absolute classic!
Graham
Clive’s route
