Background

The Spine Race is a mid-winter traverse of the Pennine Way from Edale to Kirk Yetholm – masterfully marketed as Britain’s Most Brutal. I feel I’ve left it too late in life to contemplate that but luckily they also put on what I think of as the Fun Run from Edale to Hawes – 175km (110 miles) and 5100m. That sounded sort of conceivable, although the only vaguely similar challenge I’d done – the Bob Graham had been 35 years ago. At least the Spine Challenger South had a more reasonable time limit of 60 hours

I’d tried to get an entry to the wonderfully subsidised 2023 Spine Challenger South MRT (for mountain rescue team members) but was too slow off the mark (there are only 30 places for MRT members) so got into full Glastonbury ticket mode for the 2024 race and got a place along with 2 others from CRO. As soon as Loz heard of this, there was no way he was going to be left out and he shelled out the eye-watering fee for an unsubsidised place. It’s an individual event but the plan was always for Loz and me to run it as a pair.

The summer came and went without us managing to do the ‘proper training’ required for the usual excuses of injury, illness and life. But at the end of September we started reccying the Pennine Way from Edale to Hawes. As well as becoming familiar with the route, the objective was to test our kit and mettle in ‘Spiney’ conditions. Unluckily, many of our recces coincided with sunny, calm but cool weather, leading us to joke about undertaking #britainsmostbenign. As Steph pointed out on one of my Strava activities, “You’re playing with fire there, Oxley”.

By mid-December we’d run over all the route and some of it in suitably grim conditions. The Spine mandatory kit list at first seems rather OTT, especially when you’ve loaded it all up and you’re realising you’ll be running with at least 8kg. But after a few excursions on the moors in a winter gale we started thinking “this might not be enough” and progressively upgraded our clothing to heavier, warmer choices. The kit list is also highly prescriptive, with specific brands and model listed on the ‘unacceptable’ schedule. The Spine Equipment Officer is a legendary guy called Lindley with whom you can negotiate your way through this minefield. At one stage he made me contact my sleeping bag manufacturer to get a sworn affidavit that I hadn’t requested they miss out a few feathers out to save weight.

Early January 2024 brought some very wild and wet weather but the forecast indicated the temperature was going to drop and a bit of high pressure would get established just before the start on 13th Jan. This turned out to be right and the conditions looked to be ideal, if very cold.

Hilary drove us to the start for registration on the Friday afternoon where we got subjected to the rigours of the Kit Check. There are stories of this resulting in competitors being sent packing to scour the outdoor shops of the Hope Valley when their stove/goggles/maps/whatever were found to not survive Lindsey’s scrutiny. The first thing I was asked to demonstrate was my spork. I was reminded of the bit in Hitchhikers’ Guide to the Galaxy where it’s reckoned the most important bit of kit to have is a towel – because if you know where your towel is, people will assume you have everything else and will happily lend you stuff you’ve temporarily misplaced. A spork might also be useful for fending off the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal. Am I digressing?

Anyway, Lindley was highly efficient at his job – you’d only need to reveal a corner of an item at the bottom of your pack and he’d be like “Ah that’s the Alpkit Hunka. I see you have the blue one. Upgraded in 2022 from the earlier yellow version…”. Loz was having a similar trial by Show and Tell next door but ultimately we both passed and moved on to our next task – urgent carboloading. We were staying with a friend just down the road from Edale and were treated to massive portions of pasta followed by pineapple upside down cake and custard.

Despite being a bit concerned I’d be awake most of the night anxiously going over the route in my mind, I slept very well and in fact overslept. So when I woke bacon rolls were in full flow in John and Anna’s kitchen and I had to wrestle my share from Loz. Hilary drove us to the start and we dropped off our enormous kit bags that would follow us up the route to CP1 while she cruised the car park trying to find somewhere to squeeze our van in.

Although Loz and I were running together, we had to get over the minor technicality that he was starting 30 minutes ahead of me, as the Open and MRT versions of the event are separated. This actually worked fine as Loz’s recently diagnosed heart condition meant he wanted to warm up via a slow start. I wasn’t sure that I needed a sprint start myself but I pushed along fast enough to catch him at the bottom of Jacob’s Ladder – just as the Pennine Way starts to climb onto the Kinder plateau.

You might wonder at this stage why Loz was undertaking Britain’s Most Brutal with a dodgy ticker, but hey!

The traverse of Kinder and Bleaklow was fairly uneventful as we slotted into what seemed like a reasonable rhythm for a 100 mile effort. This really meant walking anything that was vaguely uphill and jogging the flats. It was nice to reach Torside reservoir (25km) where the first MRT (Glossop team, I think) aid station was handing out tea and sympathy. From Torside it’s a pretty grim section over the well named Black Hill (think man-eating peat bogs) and, true to form, we encountered the only really unpleasant weather of the trip – mist and driving rain. It was somewhere around here that Rupert Allison came lolloping past us on his way to setting a new record for the Spine Sprint (46 miles Edale to Hebden Bridge). We’d had a 3.5 hour head start on him!

More bleakness (and to be fair, tedium) follows over the next 20km or so past Wessenden reservoirs and Standedge, alleviated mainly by the Oldham MRT aid station at Standedge. It was dark by now and our nighttime recce of this section really helped psychologically. A real highlight just after White Hill (hard to distinguish really from Black Hill) is Nicky’s snack bar just before the M62 crossing. It’s a bit of a surreal experience to come staggering out of the dank mist into a brightly lit shipping container in the middle of nowhere. Nicky’s is an iconic Spine landmark, open 24/7 during the race and serving an all-you-can-eat Spine special for about £15. It was fantastic to meet Steph and Mike there – seemingly they’d just come for the craic.

We were now mentally ticking off the landmarks from our recces: the White House pub, the never-ending Warland reservoirs and eventually Stoodly Pike monument appearing against the dark sky. Loz had a famous rant once about how he hated this place – I think due to some epic experience on the Haworth Hobble which comes this way – but it was a bit of a lift for me because it signals Hebden Bridge is a downhill jog away, and just beyond is Checkpoint 1, where we’d planned to have our first stop for more than a few minutes.

I say ‘just beyond’ but there’s first a massive climb up out of Hebden Bridge, weaving through farms and a steep descent again to the checkpoint at Hebden Hey Scout Hut, which we reached at about 1am. This is 75km into the route and is the only place that provides somewhere to sleep that isn’t a public toilet/hedge/bus shelter. This isn’t even half way though – it’s another 100km to the finish and a lot of people don’t stop here beyond the mandatory welfare check and some food. Our strategy though had always been to grab a few hours sleep here and bounce back onto the trail refreshed and bushy tailed.

It didn’t quite pan out that way though because coming in from a 75km run in the freezing night into the stifling heat of the checkpoint gave Loz a bit of a wobbly and the Spine medics were swiftly on the scene after he almost fainted. Once he fessed up to being under investigation for a potential heart issue they probably had no option but to pull him from the event. After all the training, recces and other preparation, this was a great disappointment to both of us but it didn’t seem sensible to argue and we had a meal together while we made plans for parting company. For my part I had to readjust mentally from what had always been a ‘pairs’ event to pushing on solo. I stuck with the plan to get what was about 2-3 hour’s sleep and set off again in a very cold and dark morning at about 6am. Ruth Smith from the Upper Wharfedale MRT was preparing to leave at the same time and we teamed up for the first hour or so. This was welcome company at this stage in the event – thanks, Ruth!

Hilary had camped in the van near the Packhorse pub and it was great to meet her briefly before she went off to collect Loz. Heather from CRO was also there, having had to drop out of the event herself around Wessenden.

The stop at Hebden meant quite a lot of slower people snuck past but the rest I’d had there worked well for me and it seemed like I was regularly passing other competitors all the way from here to the finish. There were a few walkers out now and one woman I passed near Widdop gave me a boost by saying I looked to be going stronger than most other runners she’d met. The section around here towards Haworth is pretty familiar from the various races that crisscross the moors and the flags were out for what I assume was the Stanbury Splash. It was still icy underfoot after a very night and one Spiner I passed around Top Withens had slipped and broken his walking pole. He seemed ok though and was getting some attention from walkers.

I quite like the section from Top Withens to Lothersdale. Although it has quite a lot of up and down, it seems quite varied compared with what has come before and a lot of road crossings that give a sense of progress. Lothersdale itself at 100km has another legendary aid station where the Craven Energy triathlon club have a tent boudoir just outside the pub equipped with sofas and bacon rolls. It’s difficult not to stay there longer than sensible.

I pressed on though over Pinhaw Beacon where Loz and I had tested the mandatory Spine goggles in a hurricane during an earlier recce. Today though it was certainly more benign than brutal and I enjoyed the descent down to the A56. Hilary and Gill met me here and sent me off along the flat canal section into Gargrave. I came across a pair of runners here who’d decided to go for a curry at the Bollywood restaurant but I opted for a supermarket sweep in the Coop, gathering armloads of sausage rolls and chocolate milk that I demolished sitting on the wall outside.

Gargrave marks a psychological milestone for me. Still nearly 60km to go but this is home ground now. I often run from Gargrave to home and it’s a real advantage knowing the terrain well. The section to Malham can be a bit of a mud fest but I’d seen it worse and Roger joined me for a km or two along here.

If you’re fast enough on this route you can away with enduring only one night. For me it was getting dark for the second time around somewhere around Airton and the last 12 hours were a night run. I really loved this experience – I was on home turf and felt pretty strong, steadily overtaking people although most of the time I was on my own in a little bubble. I came across a guy in Malham who had his boots off and was messing with his feet. “I think I’ve degloved a toe”, he said. That didn’t sound too nice! Blisters are one of the main causes of drop outs on this event and I’d taped up my toes at Hebden as a preventative measure and changed shoes there. This lasted me to the finish with no foot problems.

Once over Malham Cove and up to the tarn there’s a mini checkpoint in a small room at the Field Centre. Here they were enforcing a maximum stay of 30 minutes but were providing hot water, so I made up a freeze dried meal I’d been carrying and ate that along with more stuff to fuel the hilliest section of the route just ahead over Fountains Fell and Penyghent. It was getting cold outside now, with clearing skies and the four of five of us at the checkpoint agreed it was time to ‘go nuclear’ with the clothing. So when I left I was wearing virtually everything I was carrying for the plod up over Fountains. This was a great section with a bright starry sky and the ground starting to freeze. Excellent conditions for night walking. The main problem I had was that the tube from my water bladder was tending to freeze up and I had to work hard to keep my water supply going.

It was great to meet up with Loz again at Dale Head. After Hebden he’d gone home, had some sleep and then driven up to intercept me. He’d been feeding people with cups of tea and I think one guy even had a lie down in his van!

Penyghent was a grind but it came and went and conditions were still beautifully cold. At Horton the public toilet was packed with people trying to brew up or even get a kip. Neither seemed very appealing and I didn’t feel the need to stop in any case. It’s about 22km (14 miles) from here to the finish. That sort of feels like the last leg and I was keen to get it underway so I just refilled my water and headed out. After the initial section of the PW out of Horton I was rather dreading the slog up the Cam High Road. It goes on for ever and I could see the occasional light ahead that seemed to be climbing way above me. Lionel had walked along with me for a while but I’d then dispatched him as I was getting some sort of strength from being in my own private world formed by the beam of my head torch and some music on the AirPods. At one point though I started to feel a bit weird and disoriented. I had to take the AirPods out and sit on a rock for five minutes to recuperate. People often report hallucinations around this section brought on by sleep deprivation. I can’t claim to have seen any pink elephants but my blip was probably related to being out for over 40 hours with virtually no sleep.

Eventually I passed the high point of the Cam High Road and from there it’s just 8km more or less downhill to the finish in Hawes. The only time we’d recced this it had been awful with boggy ground and slippery mud and I had expected to hate this section. Today though the frightful cold had frozen all the bogs and I ran down the last few km really enjoying myself, especially when I sped past a final pair I recognised as MR team members more or less on the outskirts of Hawes. Hilary and Loz were at the finish and bundled me into the building for post race ‘decompression’ just after 6am.

My time was 46 hours 5 minutes. Not exactly an elite performance but my aim had never been to race but rather just to finish the thing. I was the 4th MRT member back, although the previous guy was nearly eleven hours ahead of me! Overall I was 57th out of 98 finishers with 59 retiring.

There had been a few low points but I can barely remember them now and my overall experience was fantastic. Moving through the Pennines for nearly 2 days on only three hours sleep is a surreal experience. We were very lucky with the weather this year and it probably could have been more brutal. I can see why people come back to this event year after year. I don’t think I’m up for the full Spine (250 miles), but there is the northern half to think about…

Thanks to Hilary for all the taxiing around for the recces and for the support during the event. Thanks obviously to Loz with whom I did most of the training/recces/gear testing and for getting me to CP1. I’m sure I’ll be returning the favour soon. Thanks to the Harriers and other friends who came out to cheer me along on the route. And finally, thanks to everyone who donated to our JustGiving page in aid of the Cave Rescue Organisation – we raised £2,881, which is fantastic!

Simon Oxley