Running the length of the Pyrenees – attempt

Rosie Watson

The plan was to run the length of the Pyrenees, following the Haute Route, which was the highest and toughest of the trails which follow the Spanish/French border from the Atlantic to the Mediterranean. It would involve navigation of 800km+ of rough trail and 42,000m ascent. I’d be going solo, bivvying as much of the way as possible, and carrying all of my stuff (up to 8 days food in places). And for the extra challenge, I had just 31 days in order to get back to Leeds in time for my graduation.

It was going to be incredible! I was going to have an amazing mountain experience, be living the dream, then come back a true mountain goat with legs of steel ready to finish of the fell running season for the rest of the summer. I was even fundraising for the Jack Bloor Fund after the suggestion by Hilary, which I was super excited to do as it felt so good to be giving back to an organisation which had helped fund my trip. I promoted it all over social media and was overwhelmed by the support I had within just a few days.

Unfortunately, it didn’t quite go to plan. Day One was forecast for torrential rain the entire day. I set off in good spirits regardless, buzzing to be on Day One of my trip and knowing the forecast was meant to improve each day for the rest of the week. I ran around Hendaye in the pouring rain to find some camping gas, soaked through within minutes. There was no gas to be found, and after 4hrs of searching and half an hour in McDonalds wondering what to do, I set off without, hoping to get some on the way or to rehydrate my cous cous with cold water.

My pack felt ridiculously heavy. I’d done a month’s running trip with almost exactly the same kit a year before in New Zealand, but this time my training hadn’t been good – I’d been running well a few months before, but had been limited to the roads around Leeds due to final year exams and deadlines – no big mountain days. The month before, when I’d planned to get in the longer runs, I’d been hit by exam-season flu, and had felt exhausted and run down for weeks, and as a consequence had done nothing more than short jogs the weeks before leaving in an attempt to get my energy back. A few days before leaving I finally felt like I was back to my ‘normal’ self, but I was definitely not physically prepared. By this point there was nothing I could do other than hope that my body would adapt as I went – something which is possible on a long trip.

Moving on from the lack of camping gas, things continued to just not be in my favour. It was like my guardian angel had gone on holiday and been replaced by an evil wizard. In the torrential rain and mist I took a turning which gradually sent me back around the hill I’d just been over, so I ended up back where I started – wasting another 2hrs. My map disintegrated. Over the next week it continued to rain, and there was still no gas – meaning the food I could buy was limited to tortilla wraps and pâté/Nutella, packets of Uncle Ben’s semi-cooked rice (they are designed to cook the last bit in the microwave), and cold sardines. Every day the forecast said the weather would improve, and every day it didn’t, again saying the next day would be good… There was five days of mist, making navigation difficult – after spending hours lost on a hillside trying to find the road, I realised I was just metres away but the mist had been too thick to see it. After this (and a few other times being lost in the mist), I followed roads round where possible as the Haute Route isn’t a marked trail and is often on very faint paths (and sometimes off-path), so was pretty impossible in bad visibility. This meant long days on hard tarmac in my worn-out trail shoes, which meant more impact on the legs. My ‘breaks’ where short as it was too cold to stop long, and my legs were cold all day from the rain, warming up once per night usually about 3am when the warmth finally made it down to my toes. It was hard to stay positive through days of just me in the mist, with the only company the endless cows just out of sight with their clanging bells, and every person I met didn’t speak English. I felt rude and ignorant for not being able to speak either French or Spanish, and it made the mist even more lonely – something I had been entirely unprepared for as I’ve never felt lonely in mountains before.

My whole body was hurting but usually, I’d wake up the next day to realise the aches had moved to a different place, so it was just my body adapting, and even within a few days it felt more natural carrying a pack. So, when my feet/ankles started really hurting I presumed (hoped) it was another ache that would move on or disappear. But this didn’t happen and within just 5 days I had to have a rest day. My right ankle was double the size, with my left also very painful, with the tendons making creaking sounds when I moved it. I emailed Jim Davies (sports therapist and legendary fell runner) for advice and he warned it didn’t sound good, and I may need some serious rest. Where I’d stopped was a soul-destroying-ly miserable Col which was apparently right on the mist-line – the guy running the café hadn’t seen the sun since November. It wasn’t a good place to be, so I decided to set off slowly again, doing very short days – my feet had improved even in just one day of rest so I felt there was hope. And this time, the forecast said sunshine ALL DAY, even for the top of the first ‘mountain-peak’ of the trip I had the climb.

The next day it rained and was misty – again, all day, the forecast was wrong. By the end of the day I was barely walking and knew I wouldn’t be able to make it, and had to find some way of having some serious rest. Both ankles were very sore and swollen, and my right knee now hurt too. I was devastated and couldn’t believe after all the planning and support from everyone I had only managed 6 days and wouldn’t complete the trip. I limped down to the nearest village the next day and hitched out – and that was the end of my attempt.

Despite what felt like a failure at the time, I believe it was a hugely valuable experience and taught me a lot, and will prove itself to be incredibly useful for future, bigger adventures. Things like keeping the legs warm when running in the wet, not under-estimating the importance of shoes, having enough food – all simple things which everyone knows in theory, but are easy to let slip in reality. Also, more important things like making an effort to learn some of the language in a foreign country – people have different opinions about this but I made myself swear to never neglect this one again as I found it so limiting and lonely, and felt so rude! Making sure training goes well – and changing plan if it doesn’t. Allowing enough time to start with shorter days and build up, without the pressure to do big days every day. Taking a book, taking LOTS more snacks, and not ditching the guidebook.

There were also some incredible moments which I can remember so vividly – mad even better from the fact that the rest of the time it was one misty blur! A huge eagle swooped across the road out of the mist ahead of me, visible for seconds but so close – it had clearly not heard me as the mist made everything so silent. Another time two shepherds dogs sprinted barking out of the mist – I was immediately worried in case they were guard dogs, but they were so lovely and I stood stroking them for a while – appreciating that language barriers didn’t exist with dogs! They then walked with me along the track as I tried to find the tiny path which took me down to the stream. In the end, they were the only reason I found my way – the point they kept pausing at by the track as we walked backwards and forwards marked the start of the path, and when I turned down it they went ahead, basically leading me half an hour down the very steep, rough hillside to the bridge – a ‘path’ which would have been almost impossible to find on my own as it was surrounded by long grass and tussocks.

It took almost 3 weeks to recover – luckily some old family friends let me stay at their house in the Pyrenees so I spent the time with them, helping out with their gardening work. It was great to spend time with them in their beautiful small French village, and at the end of it I was fit enough to do a 5 day trip in the high-mountains – in good weather, finally with some views! Most of the trip was over 2000m, with the first day climbing up to Pic D’Estats at 3143m which was the best mountain day I’ve had in my life, and I had the top completely to myself. Lots of big rocky mountains, snow and beautiful lakes.

I’m hugely grateful for the Jack Bloor Fund for supporting this trip, and despite not going to plan it was invaluable in my development and will help future adventures to be more successful.

World University Orienteering Championships 2018, Finland – Nathan Lawson 

This year’s World University championships were my primary orienteering aim for the season and I was delighted to be selected as part of a strong British team. Having raced in Finland the previous summer at the Junior World Championships in Tampere, I was confident that I could perform well in the challenging Scandinavian terrain whilst a good winter and spring of training and racing had allowed me to develop some good physical shape. With this being my last year of university, I was determined to make the team and channelled a lot of effort in to making this goal a reality. Sheffield provides an ideal environment for students wanting to train for and improve in orienteering and fell running and I was pleased to have put almost 3 years of hard work to good use. As ever, it was a nervous wait for the team to be announced following selection races at the JK and British championships but some strong performances allowed me to be selected alongside 5 others guys and 6 girls to represent GB.

Having travelled up to Edinburgh on Saturday the 14^th July, the team boarded the plane the following day in good spirits as we looked forward to a week of racing. After a short connection in Stockholm we arrived at Vaasa before being whisked through the Finnish countryside by bus to the event centre at Kuortane which was to be out home for the next 7 days. The centre is a Finnish Olympic training facility and so provided a perfect setting to prepare for racing. We spent the following day using the training area that was provided to get our bearings and a feel for the terrain we were to be racing in which was especially useful as it was much vaguer terrain than many other places in Finland. 

I was to be running the sprint, middle and relay disciplines and so was afforded an enjoyable rest day after this to spectate other members of the team in the mixed sprint relay. As fast and furious race was presented to them with the emphasis definitely more on running than navigating and the team performed excellently to take 4^th position, just +1:30mins on an impressive Swiss team.

The middle distance race followed this the next day and it was time to start my own racing for the week. I felt relaxed and ready to take on the challenge that the terrain at Lapua had to offer. I was starting early but in the middle distance I feel that this matters less as fewer trains of runners develop than in the long distance and the forest wouldn’t track up all that much. My race began really well and I caught several runners in front of me, including my 4 minute Swiss man, however once this happened I began to race rather than orienteer and as a result my technique got sloppy. I made a rookie error on number 7 losing a significant amount of time. I then settled but again got caught up in racing later in the course to lose time on 10 and 12 after panicking about lost time before resetting for a better finish. Generally my performance was good and physically I felt very capable, however a few lapses in concentration stopped it being a really good international result instead of coming in 29^th as I did, which was still good, but could have been much better. Other members of the GB team performed really well, notably with Sasha finishing 8^th and Megan 13^th in the women’s. It was time to reset for the sprint the next day.

I’ve always enjoyed sprint orienteering and the fast terrain of Seinajoki looked ideal for putting yesterday’s mistakes behind me. The heat soared in the day meaning hydration and proper preparation was important but I felt that I did this well and hit the start line feeling good. Generally, it was a similar story to the day before. I had a really good start to my race, flowing well and making sure to plan each leg carefully whilst maintaining a high speed. Yet again I became a touch lazy on my planning leading to a small mistake on number 7 and a large one on 11 when I cut in to a side street one to early! Despite this, I was really happy with how I continued to push all the way through the course to finish 35^th in what was a very tightly packed men’s field. Sasha had continued his strong form from the day before to take 5^th in the men’s whilst Katie Reynolds kicked off her week in style to secure 11^th in the women’s. As a team we were running really strongly and were feeling positive about the long distance and relay races to come.

As I wasn’t selected to run the long race (everyone ran 2 individual races out of 3), it was nice to be able to enjoy some downtime with Sasha and a couple of the girls back at base. We followed the progress of the other members of the team on what looked like a brutal race through some physically and technically demanding terrain. It also meant we could take full advantage of the buffet lunch provided by the organisers to feel fully prepared for the following day’s relay. The long distance provided an exciting watch with Megan leading for large portions of the course just to be caught out in the final section and losing a little time to finish an impressive 15^th. It was also good to see Ben and Jonny in the men’s battle it out for 30^th and 31^st respectively, with the rest of the team coping admirably with the difficult conditions that the race presented.

The relay is always the highlight, team-wise, of an international week. I was to run the first leg for the B team with fellow Sheffield University and good friends, Joe Woodley and Matt Elkington. Having trained and raced together for a number of years this was a real bonus for all of us. I ran a stable race, just losing contact to the leading pack at the end as the result of a longer forked leg to hand over in 18^th position, just 2:45 off the lead. Joe ran a clean race to hand over to Matt, just behind a large pack of runners. Matt went on to run his best race of the week, smashing through the competition to bring us up to 10^th but more importantly 7^th nation! This really put the cherry on what was a fantastic week of racing and to do it with some of your best friends was even better.

This week is a fantastic opportunity to race against the best runners in University orienteering, but it was also a great way of meeting and making friends with people from many other countries. For myself, despite not quite performing to the level I had expected of myself, I was pleased with many aspects of my races and it provided some good feedback on what to work on over the coming months before next season. I’m really looking forward to moving in to the senior ranks and working to challenge at the top level in future years, which with hard work should definitely be achievable. 

I would like to thank the BUCS and British Orienteering, as well as the Jack Bloor Fund, Octavian Droobers and Sport Sheffield for all the support leading up to this event. Also, thanks must go to Ed Nicholas, Mark Saunders and Alice Bedwell for the help during it. 

JWOC 2018 Laura King

The Junior World Championships (JWOC) 2018 was held from the 8th – 14th July and it was based in a small city called Kecskemet in the Hungarian countryside.

My main goal for 2018 was to be selected to represent Great Britain at the JWOC. This goal had been far from easy to achieve since I had been suffering from a shin related injury since November, which had severely limited the running and orienteering training I could do. 

By the time selection races came around I wasn’t feeling confident at all. I was nowhere near as fit as I wanted to be and my shins were still not improving. I didn’t have any disasters in selection races but my lack of speed held me back leaving me on the edge of making the team. I didn’t think I had done enough.

I had already been out to Hungary twice in the past six months for two weeks of training camps. I felt technically well prepared for the very unusual terrain, which made me want the opportunity to race there even more.

When I got the phone call to say I’d made the team I couldn’t quite believe it. I had already started to think about what to do with the spare time I would have if I didn’t make it. Luckily my shins became less painful in the weeks leading up to the competition so I got some last minute running and orienteering training in whilst being at home.

We flew out to Hungary four days prior to the first race in order to acclimatise and used the model areas to familiarise ourselves with the unusual terrain.

The first race was the long distance. At 10.2 km, this was the longest women’s race in the history of JWOC due to the speed of the terrain. I wasn’t too nervous on the morning of the race because the long distance wasn’t the race I was focussing on. I knew it was going to be very fast so even if I had a clean run it would be unlikely that I would be up there with the best due to my lack of training All I wanted was to minimise my mistakes.

I started well taking the first control steady, however my performance quickly went downhill. I started to rush and kept making significant time losses at each control. I executed the long leg well but continued to lose time on the shorter legs. I then completely lost contact with the map on the way to control 7 and ran around for a good 10 minutes trying to relocate. At this point I began to panic. I glanced at my watch, which I don’t normally do when racing, and saw that I had taken longer than the estimated winning time already and I wasn’t even half way! This being the first race of 6 I began to think that maybe it would be best to save my energy for the following race which suited me better, instead of carrying on in the 30 degree heat only to get a result I would be disappointed in. Retiring was a very difficult decision to make. I was frustrated that it had been my navigation that let me down rather than my fitness. Looking back, I am still disappointed to not have completed the course well but I think stopping the race was the right decision given the circumstances.

I had to quickly put my disappointment behind me and shift my focus to the next days race, the sprint. I was more confident for this race but I was still nervous after the previous days result. As soon as I picked up the map I saw how technical the area was. They only used a small section of the embargo and had added some artificial barriers to block off obvious route choices. This meant you had to be focussed at all times and there was no time to plan ahead.

My race was going well. I had navigated through the first tricky sections and I was approaching the arena run through. I made a mistake just before entering the arena but held it together. I spotted where I thought the spectator control was at the start of the arena passage. I’m still not sure exactly what happened but I must have started planning ahead, as you should in the passage where you don’t have to navigate. I finished the course, relieved to have a result under my belt… until I checked my splits. I had only gone and run straight past the spectator control without punching!

I was in shock. I couldn’t quite believe how I had started the first two races of JWOC and still not got a single result. I had spent the whole year training and preparing and I had nothing to show for it. After a rather emotional phone call home I pulled myself together to watch my other teammates come in.

Throughout the rest day I did my best to put the past two days behind me a focus on the Middle Distance Qualifier the next day. The middle area consisted of intricate sand dunes covered with a dense network of Juniper bushes which required labyrinth style orienteering and some thick skin to bash through the prickly branches. This was the race I had been focussing on and felt the most prepared for. The terrain suited me more since it was very technical and speed was massively reduced. In the qualifier, the competitors are split into three heats and the top twenty from each heat get through to the A final. I knew I just needed a clean run and I should have a good chance at getting into the A final which was my main aim for the competition.

Initially when I picked up the map, I was a bit worried because there was less in the tricky bushy section than anticipated and more in the fast white forest. I quickly adjusted and tried to pick up the speed when I could. When I finished all I could do was wait until everyone was in. It was close. I was 18th in my heat so I just made it! This was just what I needed to pick myself up again and get some confidence back. I was excited for the final.

I had a good start, taking it steady and safe through the first few controls. I caught the Swedish girl who had started ahead of me – even the best were making mistakes. I lost some time in the middle of the race when I lost contact with the map but I didn’t let it get to me and I refocused. A Swiss girl caught the Swede and I but we kept splitting and regrouping as we worked our way through the bushes. Through the spectator loop they picked up the speed and got away. Unfortunately, I started rushing and then had a big three minute time loss on the penultimate control. This was very frustrating as I know it would have been well within my ability to get a top 40 or even a top 30. Despite this I was still happy that I had given myself the opportunity the race in the A final.

The last day was the relay. Being in the B team there was slightly less pressure but I still wanted to have a clean run and see how well we could do. My first leg runner came in quite far down in positions but not too far down in time. I ended up running on my own for much of the course. I was happy to find out I’d pulled us up 10 places! My last leg runner then continued the good work to bring us home in 20th and 5th B team.

JWOC was far from what I had hoped for but I learnt a lot of lessons all the same. I’m extremely thankful I had the opportunity to compete as it’s given me so much motivation for next year, my last year as a junior. I’m also very relieved that I haven’t had any injury issues since competing and have enjoyed a very packed summer of orienteering including a training camp in Denmark in preparation for JWOC 2019.

I’d like to thank the Jack Bloor Memorial Fund for the support they have given me over the years. I could not have got to where I am without it. It allows me to keep competing and training at a high level in the sport I love.

Liam Rowe, Climbing Wall Instructor

Having Initially applied to the Jack Bloor Fund for funding to help with the cost of completing a Single Pitch Award in order to help the University Mountaineering society, I was delighted to learn that the trust awarded me £50 in order to help pay towards the cost of the single pitch award. I then spoke to the student union , and after multiple dicussions, we decided that a Climbing Wall Award would be more appropriate to suit the ability of the members of the Mountaineering. 

Therefore I used some of the time afterwards to meet the prerequisites which are needed in order to attend the CWA training course, which are 15 lead climbs and visits to 4 different public Climbing Walls.  

Once I had got up to the perquisites required to attend the training course , I booked onto a training course at the Boardroom Climbing Centre in Queensferry, North Wales . In recent months Mountain Training have changed the name of Climbing Wall Award to Climbing Wall Instructor.

The training course I attended was the first course to be under the CWI scheme, on the training course which was over two days we covered the syllabus which incorporated  things such as group management skills, lead belaying, the training course also included the abseil module so on the second day we went through the process of rigging an abseil and how to keep a group safe at the top of an abseil, we also went through tope rope belay techniques and then did some personal abseils and also some problem solving techniques. 

The past few months I have been using as the consolidation period leading up to assessment in order to meet the requirements for the assessment, I am booked onto an assessment on the 30^th July so all being well I should hold the award in time to use with the University Mountaineering society. 

I am very grateful to the Jack Bloor Fund for deciding to award funds to myself as it greatly helped with paying towards the cost of the CWA/CWI scheme.

A broken finger caused a few issues earlier this year . . but not for too long!

Oliver was soon back in business after careful assessment and a recovery program and is now training hard again at full strength.

Main picture: Oliver from the team shoot earlier this year aged 9.

Oliver and I would both like to begin by saying a huge thank you to Alan Manson, Hilary Bloor and the Jack Bloor funding program for helping to make Oliver’s dream of becoming a world class competition climber one step closer to becoming a reality. With the help and generosity of these people, Oliver will shortly have a completed training facility at home so he can train every day for his life’s passion of climbing.

Read the full article here (pdf)

UCPA Intro to Alpine Mountaineering – Chamonix, France

Sophie Walker

Challenging, inspiring and breathtaking… these words can be used to describe both the scenery in Chamonix, in the French Alps, as well as the incredible course that I participated in whilst I was there.

My first experience of mountaineering in the French Alps began on Monday 4^thJune, after a long journey from the UK the previous day. I was in a mixed English and French speaking group, however everyone interacted well, and helped each other out with their languages, which was an added bonus to the trip. We met with our guide and were handed multiple pieces of equipment, ready for a day of sport climbing and rope skills. In the stunning surroundings of the Alps, we were taught and practiced our sport climbing, leading, and abseiling techniques under the watchful eye of our instructor.

On the Tuesday, we headed for the Mer de Glace glacier, a mountain train ride away from Chamonix. This was my first experience of being on a glacier, and it didn’t disappoint! From the viewpoint above (where the train drops you off), the glacier looks gravel covered and slightly unappealing, but after descending many, many ladders to reach the glacier, it was an enchanting network of expanses of ice, caves, hollows and tunnels carved out by glacial rivers, and ice walls soring high above. We were taught how to safely move using crampons and ice axes on the different terrains offered by the glacier. Moving together as a pair or small group, whilst being roped together, is an important part of glacial travel, which we practiced throughout the day. Stood at the top of a glacial ice wall, formed from a river carving its way through the ice, we fixed ice screws into the top and set up a rope system to enable us to safely lower off the ice wall, and then ice climb our way back up. This was a thrilling experience and required a high level of physical fitness. And after a long day of technical work on the glacier, the many, many ladders had to be ascended to get the train back into the valley… an exhausting experience!

One of the most nerve-racking and sickening experiences occurred for me on the Wednesday of my trip… in the form of the Aiguilles du Midi cable car! Rocking backwards and forwards, ascending at a rapid pace, we made our way to the mid-point of the mountain, with only mild travel sickness occurring! Once suitably established on firm ground (or snowy ground as it happened to be, where I felt much happier!), we set off to practice our snow skills. Once again, we were roped together in our pairs, and moved in this way for the entire day. Much of the day involved practicing falling over! Or more specifically, how to stop yourself if you did fall on a snow slope and start sliding down. Once enough sliding penguin impressions had been completed, we made our way up the initial section of the Butterfly ridge, to practice mixed climbing. This involved moving over rocks, either bare or covered in ice, with crampons on throughout. This required precise and agile foot placements to ensure your partners safety as well as your own. Multiple methods of abseiling and belay set ups were practiced once back on the snow, before sliding our way back down to the terrifying cable car!

The day had arrived to put all of our skills into practice. On the Thursday we set off from the small village of Du Tour, to ascend to the Refuge Albert, where we would spend the night before a summit attempt the next morning. From the valley floor, our guide explained where we were heading, to me, it looked like it would take us most of the day. Two very tired legs, multiple out of breath humans and 2 hours 40 minutes later… the guide had rallied us to the refuge at a crazy pace! Expecting the equivalent to a Scottish bothy upon ascending this mountain, I was very surprised to find a beautiful refuge that had a wood burning stove, bean bags, big fluffy rugs, and the most stunning views I have witnessed out of a patio door! A relaxed afternoon followed, re-charging our batteries for the following day. The food provided for us at the refuge was delicious; tasty, hearty meals, preparing you for any mountain day. An early night was in order, ready for our 4am wake-up call the following morning.

Bleary eyed and having not slept overly well at altitude, I hopped out of the bunk bed, picked up my rucksack and headed for the breakfast room for a meal of bread with honey, oranges and bowls of hot chocolate. With crampons on, roped up and head torches illuminating the glistening snow, we set off in the darkness to reach our summit. After around 30 minutes of trudging through the snow, thankfully at a slower pace than yesterday, we were able to turn off the head torches and admire the sun rising over the French Alps, a truly breathtaking view. We continued upwards for around 2 more hours, before we reached the last section of the ascent, where we removed our crampons and climbed the rocky section to the summit. It was an overwhelming experience, reaching the top of my highest ever mountain at 8am that day, having learnt the relevant skills within the past week, in the incredible surroundings of the French Alps. Unfortunately, the view from the summit was one of the very familiar clouds, a view typically associated with a Scottish summit! However, the views on the ascent and descent more than made up for it. Sometimes the descent can be relatively uninspiring and a bit of a trudge, however being surrounded by so many unbelievable mountains, and looking down into the valleys, there was always something to catch your eye and leave you in awe of the natural environment. At our debrief, back in the hostel in Chamonix, our guide was full of praise and acknowledgement of our quick learning, awareness of safety and enthusiasm throughout the week. After such a long and tiring day, I thought I would have the best night’s sleep of my life… how wrong I was! Every wriggle and roll resulted in me awakening due to having exceptionally achy legs, after a tiring but very rewarding week!

The view from Refuge Albert

 

It is with great thanks to the Jack Bloor Foundation for the funding that I received to be able to participate in this training course. I had a very rewarding, challenging and informative week, learning skills that I will continue to use over many years to come, as I travel and climb more mountains over the world. As I am also part of the Leeds University Union Hiking Club, I also hope that some of the skills that I learnt can be passed on to other members of the club, especially for our annual Scottish winter trips, in the forthcoming years.