Apologies, but like the race itself, this report goes on a bit, so brace yourself.
One of my main target races for 2026 was the Northern Traverse. This race starts in St Bees in the Lake District, travels through the Lake District, the Yorkshire Dales and the North York Moors, finishing off in Robin Hoods Bay. Two weeks before the race was due to start the organising company contacted all participants to let them know they were no longer trading and the race was cancelled. As I had been training hard, disappointed was a bit of an understatement.
I initially looked for replacement races, entered a few things but didn’t really feel like I managed to find a suitable or equal challenge to the Northern Traverse. About five days before the original Northern Traverse was due to go ahead, I came across a WhatsApp group where people were organising an unofficial support network for those still planning to run the Northern Traverse route. They called themselves the Community Traverse and, within the space of two weeks, had managed to put a support network in place for anyone keen to run the Wainwright Coast to Coast route. I frantically contacted the organisers of races that I had entered as replacements to see if I could get refunds (which I mostly did) and decided to stick with my original plan of running the coast to coast route. What was even more remarkable was that the organisers didn’t ask for a single penny — only a voluntary donation if people could afford it — while providing full support for the entire event. I joined the WhatsApp group and felt immediately connected to the Community.
On my train journey over to St Bees, I realised that I had two additional changes to make at Whitehaven and Corkickle, so I sent a message to the group to see if anyone else was on the train. I got an immediate response from someone called Les who said he was passing, and he would pick me up and take me to registration. It was a great first introduction to the Community showing how people were there for each other and saved me a bit of messing around.
I was staying at the Seacote hotel, which is where registration took place and where the race was due to start. I met my new two favourite people in the world, the race directors David Keane and Kitty-Leigh Oxley. Kitty was originally planning on running the Northern Traverse but had the amazing idea to support as many people to achieve their goals as possible, and David got on board bringing to the table a host of experience from his business Core Adventures with the slogan “turning impossible ideas into executed realities”. That sounded like exactly what was needed in this set of circumstances.
After registering, I had a meal in the bar and then an early night. I had chosen an 8am time rather than 6am, just to make sure I got a full night sleep, as it would be the last one for a few days. It turned out I was awake at 6am anyway and was able to witness the earlier start from my bedroom window.
I got everything sorted and was downstairs by seven waiting around nervously. I got my tracker, picked up a stone from the beach (to throw in the sea at Robin Hood’s Bay), wet my feet in the sea and at about 7:50am we had the race briefing. At 8 o’clock on the dot, we set off and of course I wasn’t ready, still messing around with maps on my watch etc. The forecast had been for heavy rain from the start and thankfully this really never materialised. In the early stages I ran with a few different people and spent quite a while chatting getting to know all about them and their lives. I ran with Laura Nevill (who led the overall race until an unfortunate injury ended her efforts near the end of the race) up until the first climb where she seemed to put her foot down and left me standing. It was a fairly relaxed pace and we were soon running along Ennerdale then up towards the Black Sail Youth Hostel. We popped our heads in the door as there was quite a buzz and a lot of people around (more than Black Sail is probably accustomed to) filled our water bottles up and headed off quite quickly. On exiting the youth hostel, there was a light flurry of snow but nothing too bad. We started on the first large Lake District climb and the temperature started to drop. There was a bit of hail but other than that the forecasted wet weather really never happened on this day.
I ran with Kieran Bolko for some of this section and heard how he was getting married later in the year so this was the last big event he was able to do. He had rolled his ankle several weeks previously and it was really causing him problems. This eventually led to him dropping out, but fair play, he went a long way on it until it finally ended his race.
I ran through the first night completing the four big Lake District climbs and arrived at Shap the next day where I could access my drop bag. This meant I could change clothes recharge my phone, head torch, and watch from my power bank and get some hot food.
I ran with Andy Clithero over the next section, and one of Andy’s mates from Border Rievers joined us coming out of Kirby Stephen. We headed up Nine Standards and the wind got worse and worse the higher we climbed. The wind speeds reached 60 miles an hour and at times it was coming from the side, meaning staying on your feet was really difficult. Apparently, I was the last runner to go over this high section as everybody behind me was diverted to a slightly longer but lower route. Andy’s friend realised he would be returning to his car at Kirby Stephen having to fight against the wind on the way back so he didn’t stay too long with us. Andy pushed on from here, and I dropped off the pace slightly, so I was on my own all the way into Richmond where the second and final bag drop was.
I knew I was starting to get tired due to the fact that hallucinations had started. I was having auditory hallucinations first, hearing people playing radios in the middle of nowhere. I then started to see various very breed specific dogs, a lot of labradors, several border collies, a standard poodle, a dachshund, a golden retriever, a flat coated retriever and a Pekingese cross.
Next up, standing by a wall, was a group of six donkeys who then started spinning round, followed by an intricate dance performance. At this point I was thinking that maybe it wasn’t real, despite the fantastic donkey choreography. Then coming into Richmond, there was a large group of people waiting at the top of the hill to cheer me in, I nearly started telling them I wasn’t sure if they were real or not because I’ve been hallucinating but didn’t need to bother because they disappeared and became daffodils as soon as I got there.
Richmond checkpoint was a well-earned rest. I got access to my drop bag again and I had decided to sleep for four hours. I was asked what I wanted to eat but as I was feeling sick I tried to decline. The volunteers are great at knowing what you actually need to do (ignoring the rubbish you are talking) and kind of in the same way Mrs Doyle is unable to accept Father Ted refusing a cup of tea, they keep throwing suggestions at you until you finally crumble and I had the best beans on toast I think I’ve ever tasted. “You’ll also be having a cup of tea then father?” so yes, I had a cup of tea realising it was easier just to agree with Mrs Doyle. Seriously, the volunteers at the check points, are probably responsible for far more people completing this type of race, than they ever get credit for, what an absolute bunch of heroes.
As part of his race director duties, David Keane got involved, fetching me a bowl of warm water, washed my feet and dried them for me. He did offer to manipulate them if it may help (bearing in mind, I didn’t want to touch the manky things, and they are my feet), but we decided just to leave things as they were. It did make me think, our race directors might not be doing enough at the Bridges of the Tyne race, and perhaps we should be upping our game on the foot care front for our competitors. Any opinion on that Hannah??
I was escorted to my room, which was the glamorous floor of the disabled toilet of the scout hut. It was technically en-suite and as it turned out was quite a good option as it was away from the main room which was quite busy, and as I needed to do a wee partway through the four hours, it was very useful as someone that kindly left the toilet right beside my head. I was woken up after the four hours of which I probably slept for about 2.5 hours so next time I will definitely have a shorter sleep on the second night of an event like this. One of my eyes was glued shut with some mysterious gunk, the source of which, I never did discover, but a quick spit wash seemed to do the trick (I suppose I could have used the wash hand basin actually in the room, but it’s easy to think of these things after the event). My kit had been completely sorted out, my wet gear had been dried, the volunteers literally thought of everything.
After leaving a 5 star Trip Advisor review, I headed off feeling completely reinvigorated. I started really strongly and it wasn’t long until it was light again. I did end up having a couple of comedy falls, one of which resulted in a snapped running pole and another where I knocked my ribs against a post, but the fall count overall was quite low compared to my usual track record. The next checkpoint was at Ingleby Cross, so I grabbed some supplies at the garage, used the facilities and then Kitty used the Mrs Doyle method to get some electrolytes into me. Kitty then did a Bob a job by helping the elderly across the very busy A19 dual carriageway. To be fair, I’m not sure I could have got across without Kitty’s assistance, so it was much appreciated.
The next section was familiar as I did the Ingleby Cross fell race fairly recently and it pretty much followed the start and some of the middle section of that race. Kitty told me there was a café at Lordstones so I aimed to get there for an unofficial pitstop assuming it would be open until teatime. There was a series of climbs that seemed to be never-ending but eventually I hit Lordstones at 4:05. Arriving at the café, I realised it’s actually closed at 4 o’clock so tentatively knocking on their door, I asked if they would take pity on me and let me have a cup of tea and some crisps. The café kindly obliged and refused to take any money. One of the other Runner’s wife, daughter and fox red lab (the double of one of my dogs) was in the café and was just leaving so she kindly allowed me to go and sit in their camping pod whilst I had my tea and recovered a little bit before heading off again. Just a few more climbs to complete and on the last one I bumped into a guy called John who told me that he had been entered in the Lakes Traverse and didn’t find out about the Community traverse until it was too late, but he decided he’d come along to support the runners after work that day anyway. He accompanied me down the last descent with his son Max (who told me all about him running for Esk Valley fell club) and when we got to the bottom, his wife Steph and two daughters were waiting there at the car with supplies for the Runners. He gave me a cup of tea and some cereal bars and sent me on my way to the final checkpoint. Another example of the community spirit that has been created.
It got dark again and I thought I saw a group of old-fashioned farmworkers working at the side of the road with scythes, billhooks and things like that, but they disappeared as I got closer. I seemed to be travelling along an endless road with a bitterly cold side-wind and I could’ve done with stopping to put more gear on and sort things like my spare head torch out ready just in case, but I didn’t want to stop as I would’ve got too cold. Luckily, someone stopped in a car and asked if I was okay, he said he was from the race (at this point I didn’t care if he told me he was from the national murderers association, I was getting into that car) so I got in whilst I sorted out everything I needed to do. I got back out heading back along the road and then across a path on the moor. My watch map was telling me I needed to be further over to the right so I tried to head over to where I thought the path should be. The hallucinations were back and I was struggling to make out what I was putting my feet into, I really couldn’t tell if it was deep water, grass, heather, or another type of plant. I couldn’t find the other path so assumed the watch was wrong on this occasion, so I decided to turn around and go back to the original path. I had become completely disorientated in the meantime and realised I didn’t actually know which direction the original path was in. All I could focus on was a story I had heard about a lady who left the Appalachian Trail to go to the toilet, became disorientated and never made it back. Very sadly, her body was found months later and she had written a note for her family to let them know what had happened. I may take a pen and paper on my next race in case this happens again, or I suppose I could just text them. Anyway, luckily, I took stock and realised I could find the path again just by using the map on my watch, so after a bit of going around in circles I eventually found the original path and continued. This path seemed to go on forever and I was starting to get fairly cold. The hallucinations were getting worse and worse things like farm machinery was turning into Transformers (which was pretty cool), but there was a fairly creepy 8 foot man who was just stood at the side of the road staring at me (not so cool and a little disconcerting), so I decided I just needed to focus on the path in front and ignore everything else. The soles of my feet were starting to blister badly, making standing on any stones very painful, so I just focussed on keeping moving forward and avoiding any stones obviously.
Thankfully my feet had remained dry (unlike the previous 2 days) and that was helping a bit. I came into Glaisdale thinking it was where the aid station was that I was in desperate need of. I came to a ford and couldn’t work out in the dark, how to get over the stream without getting my feet wet so just had to trudge through it, meaning I now had wet feet for the rest of the race. I was also disappointed to realise it was still a few miles to Egton Bridge, but they passed soon enough and I decided to have another sleep here (just an hour this time).
The hours kip sorted the hallucinations out nicely, and it was light just in time to enjoy the several 33% gradient climbs out of Grosmont. I know this area a bit so it felt familiar and I knew the end was in sight.
Running down the hill from the top of Robin Hoods Bay, all I could think of was that I would have to walk back up it afterwards to catch the bus to Middlesbrough (I wasn’t relishing the idea of either). Finally, I got to the slipway and was greeted by the stars of the show, Kitty and David who walked me to the water so I could dip my feet in and throw the stone in that I had carried from St Bees. Job done. I hadn’t realised she was going to do this, but Emma had driven down to see me finish, which was a nice surprise. I also realised that I wouldn’t have to catch the bus and then a train, but with the car at the top of the hill I’d have to get up that still.
David did his usual job of managing me (taking my backpack off etc.) as I was just not thinking for myself and very kindly summed up how he thought my race had gone.
He told me that he thought I remained mentally strong throughout, “every time I talked to you even when your feet were a mess, you took the information in and then just got on with the job in hand”. I’d say that is probably quite an accurate summation of my approach to a lot of the longer races.
Having been involved in putting races on myself, I know how much work goes into them. I still find it incredible that David and Kitty managed to sort this all out in less than a fortnight. They have created something very special, that I feel will go from strength to strength. I will be volunteering next year to give something back and suspect the level of support for the next events will be really strong.
Just a few stats. The overall distance I managed to cover was just over 195 miles with an elevation of 10,181 meters (I missed turnings and got lost a lot particularly in the dark just for a change).
Of the 37 starters for the full course (there were options to do just one of the 3 National Parks we covered along the route, so there were a lot more participants in total), 29 finished. I ran for 74 hours and had about 3.5 hours actual sleep. I only fell over 3 times, broke a pole, snagged my new OMM waterproof trousers on a barbed wire fence and cracked a rib a little bit, so I’m taking that as a result, speaking of which, here they are :-
5 Responses
If you’d like to volunteer as chief BoTT foot massager Dave you’d be more than welcome! An amazing acheivement and faacinating read. Well done!
Wow, Dave. That is certainly some report and a considerable achievement! I think I went every step of the way with you there with your vivid descriptions – thankfully from the comfort of my own armchair, supping a cappuchino and with my feet well in tact. *Very* impressive!
It has to be done by the Race Director, the only person senior enough to take responsibility, otherwise I’d be there.
Fantastic race report Dave . I think I’ll stick to 800 metres . Your tough as teak
Once again, very much in awe of your superpowers David! May your feet also have someone to massage them…not me sorry, I don’t do hugs nevermind feet massages!