The Championship, Saturday 16th Dec 2017

The official, complete, honest, unexaggerated and totally truthful report of the Club Championship.              With added photographs.

The start time had been brought forward to 2 o’clock for our annual Championship from the Boars Head at Higher Poynton. So we turned up in good time with the exception of a couple who had missed the change of time.

The cloud was low and the temperature hovered above freezing making conditions underfoot far from ideal. It was a very good turnout, some 23 people of whom 20 competed.

We assembled at the start awaiting the starter, but were held back for a short while to accommodate the latecomers.

Pre-run pose

(Photo by D. Winterbone)

A photo was taken and then Ridings got us under orders and set us off. The reaction from the runners was almost instantaneous, but the front runners were off at a canter and the rest followed up the hill over the canal bridge and up into Lyme Park.

Doggie Burston and Old Markham had set off earlier to scatter sawdust to indicate the direction we should go in, but for most it was a familiar route, albeit with a couple of new wrinkles.

As we entered the Park, past a recently opened shop, we headed off across the fields but bypassed the usual run through the sharp gully, presumably due to the trees that had been planted in the way. At this point I could see the frontrunners silhouetted against the skyline and making fast progress. A line of lesser lights stretched back, and there were a few behind me.

Approaching the Trail-layers

Now it was down to a few groups competing against each other. In twos or threes we struggled to get the upper hand as we progressed round the course. A brief handshake as we passed the trail layers before entering the woods with the warning of ice at the exit ringing in our ears. It was slippy, but nearly all of us negotiated it safely.

We were headed home, each of us trying to pull on the runner ahead and afraid to look over our shoulder in case we saw someone catching up. The park was relatively quiet but occasionally we got encouragement from walkers as were struggled on. At last the top of the final track and the run down to the finish. The lucky ones had won, or lost, their individual battles but some had to fight to the end.

There was a small group still at the finish when I arrived, and we quickly set off for the shower. This was done in batches, with the water getting cooler with each batch. Some of us went back to the finish to welcome back the final competitors whilst others took shelter in the warmth of the pub. Eventually all got back, including the trail layers and we headed for the pub.

Of course the early start meant we were in the pub pretty early. The beer was good and we could relax and recover and tell each other why it all went right/wrong. And compare moustaches.

The food arrived in good time. Turkey, stuffing and trimmings followed by Christmas pud. But then it was time for the awards.

Silence fell and Whitworth announced the winner. Colin Goulder had raced round and pipped Shotgun for the title of Champion. President Park handed over the trophy and glassware.

The handicap was won by Wells, thanks to the generosity of the handicapping committee. President Park again did the duty.

Finally Biker Eastwood was declared to have produced the best moustache, with Old Markham runner up. They both received a bottle of something they kept to themselves. A goodly sum was raised for the charity.

A cheery group left in ones and twos, some headed home to shave and others to celebrate/commiserate with their mates.

More photographs of this momentous day:

Christmas 2017

At the risk of upsetting folk - something I seem to do with consummate ease (it's a talent), I won't be doing the Christmas card thingy.

Instead I've decided to donate a lump of dosh to the Manchester charity: The Booth Centre http://www.boothcentre.org.uk

There are too many disadvantaged folk out there who are REALLY struggling and our 'caring' government clearly don't give a damn, it's just not right.

Anyroadup, I just wanted to do a little something to help and I hope my donation helps.

Have a lovely Christmas folks!

A Right Royal Run .

Trotting around Tockholes

The day before Bonfire Night saw the Club’s annual gathering at the very fine Royal Arms at Tockholes near Darwen where 17(?) members met for a run over some of the lumpier bits of the West Pennine Moors.

(Photo: Hon Prez Park)

Rick Ridings and I set off from the pub at 11am to lay a sawdust & shredded paper trail along a route that had been (mostly) recced the previous day with another Rick – the Long Suffering one.

On the recce: Long Suffering Rick is NOT a fairy

We trotted north(ish) via the familiarly bovine excrement-perfumed Ryal Fold, splodging across fields to pick up The Witton Bloody Weavers Way….and some mud. Hours of persistent heavy rain the previous night had ensured we we would enjoy some rather squelchy ground.

Old Markham leading Eastwood and the Hon Sec through the fragrant Ryal Fold

(Photo: J. Wilson)

It was dry when we recced it. Honest.

Cobbles

(Photo: Ian Brown)

It was a slimy cobbled descent to Earnshaw Reservoir dam, although the dam-top path offered temporary respite from the slutch. The sun shone intermittently and was only a bit chilly.

Earnshaw Reservoir, the Jubilee Tower on the skyline.

Early starters Goulder & Lesser Ruddock

(Photo: Ian Brown)

A mix of uphill concrete tracks, diverted and concessionary paths led us south, up the eastern side of Darwen Hill and Darwen Moor, tantalisingly close to the Jubilee Tower.

Jubilee Tower. So near yet so far.

(Photo: J Wilson)

(Photo: Ian Brown)

The route so far had been generally runnable…..well some bits were generally runnable, the other bits were generally, er, interesting. And a bit wet.

Dramatic clouds scudded overhead whilst a couple of light showers kept the puddles and fetid bogs up to Lancashire’s usual high standard.

A footpath…or a stream

Rick Ridings at rest

The descent from Darwen Moor led us to a short section of uphill tarmac at Duckshaw Brook. This short dry bit provided only fleeting relief from the tough terrain of the previous couple of miles before once again returning us to the rough ground of the Witton Bloody Weavers Way. For a few hundred yards anyway.

Not So Fast Taylor going across the rough bit of path

(Photo: J Wilson)

Then the route became slightly more difficulter (that’s Timperley dialect is that) as we left the Witton Bloody Weavers Way. Turning right (SW) at a rotted signpost (the rot was probably down to the gound being slightly more moist than the surrounding terrain) we trotted cheerily and muddily across an incredibly lumpy footpath that was quite unrunnable in parts. Well actually it was completely unrunnably along quite a lot of it’s length. That length seemed to go on for miles but in reality it was less than a mile.

There’s a path there – somewhere

(Photo: J. Wilson)

The path was mostly obscured by waist-high rushes and sedge grasses, consequently some runners disappeared into hidden holes in the ground – one may still yet be lost, there was definitely one runner missing when we sat down to dinner later. 

Winter Hill

(Photo: Ian Brown)

The wind was getting up on this exposed section and care had to be taken laying trail. It wouldn’t do for the runners to lose trail and go astray….they might end up getting back too late to enjoy the delights of the tin bath. Worse still, they might miss their tea.

   Wells & Eastwood relieved to be back on the DWWW

(Photo: J. Wilson)

Suitably soaked, muddied and bruised we rejoined that Damned Witton Weavers Way – at least the ground became more runnable. Wislon J had tumbled a grand total of five times on the rough section – surely a Club record. There are rumours that he’s going to receive the award of the Club’s Official Fell Fall Runner.

We were now on the return leg although it would be a while before Darwen’s Jublilee Tower would become visible.

Only slight dampness on the WBWW

(Photo: J. Wilson)

What DID become visible were two of the Club’s runners coming up behind us. They were still a good distance away but they were moving quickly – obviously Fast Pack Runners. Rick and I, er, picked up speed to keep ahead of them for as long as we could. It’s frowned upon for Hounds to catch the Hares. Apart from anything else, the Hounds wouldn’t be able to follow the trail – because, as Trail Layers, we Hares hadn’t completed laying the trail.

On final approach to Jubilee Tower

(Photo: J. Wilson)

We managed to keep ahead of the Fast Pack until they caught us up on Darwen Moor, just to the south of the Jubilee Tower. It turned out that the fast guys, Goulder and Lesser Ruddock, had set out at 1pm – rather earlier than even the Slow Pack. In fairness to them they both had to beat a hasty retreat after the run – not even stopping for dinner.

The route zig-zagged a little, now on more familiar ground. The Tower came into full view and it was a quite straight-forward matter of following clearly marked paths across the heather moorland.

More runners, including the Hon Prez, hove into view. They knew the route back down to the pub so after pleasanties were exchanged they continued their way back to the warmth and comfort of the Royal Arms.

At Jubilee Tower we littered our way south-westish for half a mile or so on a very good and flat path. The views over Sunnyhurst Hey Reservoir out to Blackburn and Preston were excellent – on a clearer day you would be able to see THE tower, the one at Blackpool.

Then it began to rain, fortunately it didn’t last long. A steep and rocky descent was the last of the difficulties for the runners, in the wet it was a bit hairy. All survived and were back at the pub by around 4pm – in good time for tea.

Doggy Burston at the finish

(Photo: J. Wilson)

The pub, as always, really looked after us and made us very welcome. We were served with really excellent food: a very tasty lamb hotpot followed by apple crumble and custard. The beer, as ever, was superb.

The Apple Crumble Demolition Squad in action

The Royal at Tockholes.

(Photo: J Wilson)

The Royal is probably my favourite pub – anywhere. I feel very fortunate being able to lay trail from here every year. It’s a great venue set in really rugged running country.

Thanks to Long Suffering Rick for helping with the recce of the route, and to Rick Ridings for letting me have one of his bananas – and helping to lay trail so very well. Hardly anyone got really lost – and that can’t be bad. 

8.5 miles and 1300ft of ascent and wetness

More photographs are here

Most of the photographs were by Ian Brown or John Wislon Wilson.

Other photographs were taken by me using my old but very weatherproof Olympus mju410. This camera is okay but doesn’t perform at all well in anything like low light. It also takes a long time to boot-up from ‘switch-on’  - especially when the memory card has a couple of hundred images stored on it.

Midgebite Ceilidh Band…test post

Testing 1 – 2 - 3

18 miles Roundabout Ringheye

An East Lancashire LDWA production…

Ringheye – the old name for Ringway, the site of Manchester Airport

.I collected fellow East Lancashire LDWA member and fellow ceilidh band musician Rick, AKA Long Suffering Rick, at 8.30am and we trundled off to meet fellow members of the LDWA in darkest, deepest Hale.

This was my turn to lead a walk for the East Lancs LDWA. I’ve done very little with the LDWA over the last couple of years and the Roundabout Ringheye walk was my mea-culpa.

Eleven LDWA members gathered at the appointed time to endure my idea of fun….well, one of them. My absence from the LDWA scene was made very apparent (to me) – I only recognised 5 of the walkers. I need to get out more.

The weather forecast wasn’t brilliant: gloom followed by deeper gloom. At the least the gloom was forecast to be dry.

How wrong the forecasters were, we enjoyed warm sunshine virtually all day – I was more than glad I’d decided on wearing shorts.

The route was based on the ‘Jump in the Lake’ walk from a few years back – although there were some significant differences.

The walk coincided with the Manchester Half Marathon, held just a few miles north. Rather than setting off at bang on 9am we waited 5 minutes for any latecomers who may have been delayed by the road closures.

So, at 9.05am we wandered off, westwards, crossing the River Bollin (that river keeps cropping up on this blog) and then following the very well-surfaced farm track to Ryecroft Farm, adjacent to the M56.

By Ryecroft Farm: Preparations for ToughMudder continue

Here they come

It was here that we turned South-West, crossing the M56 and following a mix of tarmac and footpaths to the very pretty village of Rostherne.

There they go…heading towards Rostherne

At Rostherne we followed a concessionary path (not marked on the OS map) that took us close by Rostherne Mere. This was as close as it’s possible to get to the mere, it’s situated in a nature reserve with very restricted access.

Rostherne Mere (photo taken on a recce)

Autumn colours in Rostherne

St Mary’s Church, Rostherne – much photographed by me

From Rostherne we headed directly to the Home Farm entrance of Tatton Park by way of the dead-straight church path.

This was a leisurely 18 miler so we stopped for a good 20 – 25 minutes at Tatton Hall….where they serve rather nice coffee and cake. Rather nicely expensive too.

Rostherne’s church has strong links with the Parachute Regiment. Tatton Park was used extensively in WW2 for parachute training, the nearby RAF Ringway, now Manchester Airport, was home to No1 Parachute Training School. It only seemed right to include a visit to the training school’s monument, close to the landing zone in the park.

Long Suffering Rick and I had been at Tatton Hall on the previous Friday evening, playing a ceilidh. We’d noticed signs warning of the rutting – deer might not take kindly to us marching past their love nests. Care was to be taken.

As it happened the deer were generally away from our route so there wasn’t a problem. Even for Alma.

Leaving the monument, we walked south, keeping to the western shore of Tatton Mere to exit the park at Knutsford.

No apostrophe problem – but the spelling ain’t quite right.

A gentle wander through Knutsford, home to General Patton’s HQ in WW2, is always a pleasant experience.

Perhaps Joe Holt’s poshest pub

Our lunch stop was in Knutsford’s park. Conveniently vacant benches overlooked the lake – filled with Canada Geese and other birdies.

 

Rick has been suffering from a poorly foot so he’d chosen this point to bale out. A train would whisk him back from Knutsford to Timperley in double-quick time. Rick went one way and we went t’other, north-east towards Mobberley.

This next section was made up of a mix of tarmac and soggy fields.

Splodging through muddy fields

North towards the airport’s Runway 2 in hot sunshine

Double Decker to Dubai

The Plan was to follow quiet lanes to the east of the airport rather than following the unofficial and clarty, slutchy footpath that runs (?) alongside Runway 2. A last-minute change of plan was made after a lengthy (about 20 seconds) discussion with Frank – we would follow the runway mudbath. This shortened the route slightly but had the advantages of a) testing the grippiness and waterproof qualities of our footwear, b) allowing us very good views of aircraft taking off.

Leaving the side of the runway we joined the Bollin Valley Way as it took us UNDER the runway and west-ish on the final leg of the walk.

The River Bollin culvert under Runway 2

For those that complain that this area is flat – here’s proof that it just ain’t so:

60m A.S.L.

The last couple of miles were very gentle indeed (they probably needed to be after visiting that trig-point), a pleasant riverside walk back into Hale and our cars.

The survivors were encouraged to pose before we finished:

I count two smiles…not sure about the others

We were done, dusted and finished by 4pm = a 7 hour bimble. We took 3 very leisurely breaks – this was a gentle 18 miler, not an eyeballs-out race. It was good.

Thanks to everyone who turned up, I hope you enjoyed it – I certainly did. I almost enjoyed Michael’s jokes….well maybe not.

 

Where we went (anticlockwise):

18 miles with 960’ of ascent + lots of sunshine and laughs.