Looking down in Coniston water, as I gradually gain elevation
I arrived in Coniston at around 1130 on Friday morning, my aim was to summit the Old Man, bagging as many summits as possible along the way. Starting the run bathed in sun, I could see angry clouds lurking around the summit. Weather in the mountains isn’t something to take lightly, I knew I’d likely have a decision to make, at some point during the run.
The early stages of the run consisted of following a stream uphill, crossing boggy moreland and trying not to aggravate the rams - who were eyeing up my balls for ramming practice.
The higher I climbed, the closer I got to the clouds.
The higher I climbed, the stronger the wind became, the clouds were drawing in and there was an increasing volume of moisture in the air. Knowing I’d be away from any super technical terrain for a while, I made the decision to push on.
I passed Buck Pike and started climbing Dow Crag. This is when conditions worsened.
The final climb to Brown Pike (summit #1) was steep, with a little scrambling at the top. This was proper mountain terrain now, no man made paths, just looking to see where the ground had been worn by footfall. My head was very much in the clouds by now, and the wind was viscous! Originally I’d planned to film at the summit, but this would have been both pointless, and later dangerous. You’d see nothing but dog and hear nothing but wind. Shortly I’d also need my hands to scramble.
At this point, I knew I could easily turn back and retrace by steps, but conditions weren’t that bad. I could still see 50 meters or so in any direction and had good footing to brace against the wind. So, I decided to follow the ridge line past Buck Pike (summit #2) towards Dow Crag (summit #3). I’d soon start to question, both my decision making, and my (rather novice), ability in the mountains.
In the weeks before this run, I’d spent some time studying maps and planning my route. I’d noticed some very rough ground around Dow Crag, the sort of ground that may require a sustained period of scrambling. It also looked like this could be easily avoided, by following a slightly wider line. Maybe it was the fog, maybe it was my map reading. Either way, when I got to the scramble, there was no option but to scramble.
By this point, there was very little margin for error
By this point I was surrounded by fog, visibility was poor and the temperature had dropped significantly. The wind was now starting to assert its authority, and I found myself wondering whether I should have turned back earlier. I was now past the point of no return, going back would be more dangerous than pushing ahead. Reassurance came in the form of strangers, there were plenty of them hiking that day, and I was skipping past them as I traversed the ridge line. The fast there were people there suggests the conditions weren’t that dangerous. The fact I was moving faster than they were, suggest I’m not that incompetent! Still, I took my time and tried not to take any unnecessary risks. Accidentally running off the side of a cliff has never been in my bucket list!
The only way now, is down
I made it to the end of the scramble and was greeted by a few snowflakes (yes you read that correctly!) i quick check of the map and compass, to make sure I was still heading the right direction, and I was back in runnable ground. A short decent, before the final climb to the Old Mans summit. A moment if tranquility greeted me, as I found myself shielded from the wind for a couple of minutes. This didn’t last long, as I headed back to more exposed ground, Thor was waiting to batter me! The final climb was like running into an All Blacks scrum! Head down and drive towards the summit, and after 5-10 minutes, I’d made it!
No tarmac around here!
When it comes to mountain running, the uphills may be hard, but it’s the downhills where things get really spicy! I followed the main tourist path down from the summit. This path is steep! When I say steep, I mean around 30% gradient for the first KM! This isn’t a tarmac path either, this is a technical trail, where any misplaced foot will be punished. I don’t have the skills to simply let gravity take over in these kinds of descents, but I’ll give it a good go. Skipping around rocks and people, trying to limit my use of the breaks - it’s the breaking that’ll turn your quads to jelly! As I dropped out of the clouds and found the mountain sheltering me from the wind, I really started to find a flow. This run was long enough to be challenging, but not so long I was left broken. I was able to enjoy the views and share quicks words, and jokes, with the strangers I was passing along the way.
Dropping below the clouds, the beauty is breathtaking
After a mile or two, I passed the ruins of the old mining structures, then shortly after things levelled out. For a brief period I was able to give it some gas and push myself along the open trails. Around this time I considered pulling out my GoPro again. Frankly though, I was having too much fun on my own, to wasn’t to share the moment with strangers in the internet! After such a sharp descent, this flat section provides an opportunity to look up, to remind yourself of what you’ve actually just done.
The old mining huts are an iconic landmark, on the tourist track.
After a short blast on flatter ground, I arrived at Walna scar car part, base camp for many of the Old Man’s budding conquerors. As tempting as the awaiting ice cream van was, I had a busy afternoon ahead, and no time to stop. Skipping through the gate, I knew it would be a steep tarmac road, downhill, all the way to the finish. It always amazes me, how quickly you can go from wild mountain terrain, to 21st century civilisation. My descent, physically and mentally demanding as it was. Seemed to be over in a heartbeat. Now I’m surrounded by cars, shops and pubs. People are walking the streets, wearing “normal” clothes, with pristine hair. Completely oblivious to the battles ensuing, right now. Between man and nature, just a few hundred meters above them…