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Empower Educate Entertain
Senegal’s Slave Beggar Children Hiking Torres Del Paine, Chile UTMB Week Special
Also including Studying Rubbish In India
Mountain Bike Racing Paddle boarding UK And lots more
Issue10, June 2020 www.adventureshe.com
Price £5.00 for 1 issue or 4 issues for £15
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Adventure She magazine, Issue 10, June 2020
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Welcome From Our Editor Welcome to the June 2020, the 10th issue of Adventure She magazine.
published author, or a blogger, or have zero writing experience, please tell them about the
magazine, ask them to go onto its website www.adventureshe.com and ask them to say hello via the ‘contact us’ page. That’s what Eleanor Hughes did, and she’s in this issue, sharing her gratitude at having successfully hiked the W Walk in Patagonia.
I can’t believe Adventure She has already made it into double digits! Wow!!! There’s more to ‘wow’ about, for what a time I’ve had putting together this issue. It could easily have run to over 200 pages. In fact, just yesterday stories I alas had to edit out a few stories, for there simply wasn’t space for everything. Don’t worry, they’ll now be in the September issue.
The theme for this issue is indeed GRATITUDE. This was inspired by my own experience of developing (suspected) Coronavirus and my gratitude for those who helped me through that time, whether by collecting and delivering medicine and shopping, or by walking my dog. It’s also based on the gratitude I felt for being in a country with decent health care, and the gratitude I felt for my lockdown and quarantine being in a warm, comfortable home, with a small garden where I could enjoy the sunshine.
So how to decide what stayed and what will be in September? The answer is by thinking what’s really important in the world right now. Three issues have of course dominated the news of late – Coronavirus the illness, how to build a ‘new normal’ and the Black Lives Matter movement.
You see, many people in the world don’t have the privilege of a safe place to live. I did. In this issue, award winning photographer Maria Tomas-Rodriguez, writes about some of these people, the Talibé children of Senegal. Her pictures are enough to break one’s heart, for what those poor children have to endure, is unimaginable to me. Reading Maria’s story only emphasised to me, how much I have and how grateful I should be, for what I have.
In setting up this magazine, my aim was to empower, educate and entertain through sharing stories. But I also wanted to give women an opportunity to share their stories, so we can all learn from each other and grow from that learning. So I’ve tried to give an opportunity for writers whether experienced or starting out, to share their stories, regardless of where they live, their colour, or their religion.
Lockdown and masks were things I thought, I would never see, living as I do in a democracy where few wore face coverings. Yet across the globe, democratic governments have persuaded their citizens to stay at home and thousands chose to wear masks in public. By now, masks are even mandatory in many places, including public transport where I am currently situated.
I know there have been too few stories from certain parts of the world, certain colours and certain religions. I have and will continue to approach people from all over the world to try and expand the writer base. But, I can only do so much.
So I thought it would be interesting, to swap stories from around the world, about lockdown experiences. Enter previous contributors Angharad Hodgson, Lucja Leonard, Katie
So if you know someone with a story to share, regardless of their location, colour or religion, and regardless of whether or not they are a a lifetime of body 2
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Wright and Paula Reid, who all turned around the questions I sent them really quickly. Thank you so much for that. Living in Dubai, the USA, New Zealand and the UK, they had very different experiences and also share their learnings from the experience. So what now? True it’s possible to again visit certain countries? But at what risk to our health and will we need to spend time in quarantine on arrival there and / or, on returning home. That’s where local adventures come in. After all, how well do we know our local area? Steph Cooke shares about a long distance one day challenge hike near her, Rhiannon Gunner shares about the joys of mountain biking which, can often be done close to home – though please only mountain bike at your skill level - Rhiannon is a pro. Meanwhile Grace Bovis writes about her gratitude a being able to do a classic day bike ride from near her home in London, the ride to Box Hill and back. But what if adventuring locally isn’t enough? Kat Owens shares a different type of adventure, from her time working in India, complete partner and children in tow. She was there for months, not days or weeks, which meant she could immerse herself in the local scene. Her trip was thanks to a scholarship, for which she is so grateful, for without that scholarship, it would have been impossible for her and her family to experience and immerse themselves in India. Perhaps that’s the near term future of adventure - fewer trips to far flung places, but staying longer and immersing oneself whilst there?
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since I got back last September. Finally, here’s a few to whet your appetite. Truth be told, there’s so many stories, so many interviews and so many photographs that I would love to share, UTMB week really needs its own special issue. I had hoped … alas time precluded. Don’t worry, there will be lots more in the September issue. If you’ve ever wondered what it’s like to do the longest race at UTMB week, namely the PTL, wonder no more as Gitte Sveigaard shares her experience in this issue. Do you remember those seemingly innocent, carefree, pre-lockdown days? Well, there’s also a few stories to remind us of all of the good old times. You know what, all of these adventurers are so grateful for their experiences, be it Isi Oakley hiking in the wilds of the Outer Hebrides, Eleanor Hughes hiking in the cold of Patagonia, Penny Mitchell paddle boarding against the wind and getting a world first for a woman, or Andrea Brookes galloping across the beaches of Spain. There is so much out there in our amazing world. Let’s all vow now, to be grateful for that we can experience, be it locally for now, or at some point, on the other side of an ocean, or a continent, or even the planet. For there are children out there in Senegal and so many other places, who quite possibly would give their right arm, to have what it is that we have and yet so often, forget to appreciate.
Jane
I’ve been promising stories from UTMB week, the world’s biggest trail running festival, ever
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From The
Adventure She is published by TNA Consulting Services Ltd, the address of the registered of which can be obtained from Companies House. The entire contents are protected by copyright and all rights are reserved. Reproduction without prior permission is forbidden. Every care is taken in compiling the contents of the magazine, but the publishers assume no responsibility in the effect arising therefrom, Readers are advised to seek professional advice before acting on any information which is contained in the magazine. Neither TNA Consulting Services Ltd nor Adventure She magazine accept any liability for views 3 expressed, pictures used, or claims made. Copyright © 2020 TNA Consulting Services Ltd. All Rights Reserved.
Adventure She magazine, Issue 10, June 2020
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Page 6 – Senegal’s Forced Beggar Children
Page 16 – Coping With Lockdown
Page 32 –Challenge Walks With The Long Distance Walking Association
Page 40 – Downhill Mountain Biking
Page 48 – A Lockdown Cycling Microadventure
Page 52 – Adventure, Scholarship And Rubbish
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Page 60 – Training For UTMB Week’s OCC & What Is UTMB Week
Page 58 – Book Reviews
Page 78 –Adventure Running – UTMB Week’s PTL
Page 92 – What A Woman
Page 98- Hiking In The Outer Hebrides
Page 110 – Hiking In Torres del Paine
Page 126 – Paddle Boarding Bristol To London
Page 134 – Adventures On Horseback
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Modern Slavery In Senegal By Maria Tomas-Rodriguez
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In this article award winning photographer Maria Tomas-Rodriguez, shares with us a dark side of life in Senegal, that of the children who are forced to beg. Learning about these children has really made the Adventure She team think. Why is it that we in the West complain so much, when the truth is, we have too much? These children have nothing, and yet it is them that has taught us, not the other way around.
As most travellers who have visited off-beaten paths in African countries on several occasions, on my first trip to Senegal I was already familiar with the stunning nature, the endless red sunsets, the buzz of the local villages, the colourful and often not so clean markets with their lively people, the welcoming smiles
of the children and the usual chaos one can find on the local buses garages when travelling as a backpacker. Many African countries (although far from reaching ‘developed country’ standards) have an education system that one way or another reaches 7
some of its population. Very often, children need to walk long distances to go to school. In some other cases, children, especially girls, are required to stay home from a very young age, to help domestic chores or to work on the fields with their parents.
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seemed very curious about me. I tried to communicate with them in English and failed, so I tried with my very poor French, failed again. Soon I realized they couldn’t speak French, the official language in Senegal and I was unable to speak their local dialect, Wolof. They were wearing old rotten football T-Shirts from all sort of European teams, Arsenal, Barcelona, Real Madrid, Liverpool…you name them. I thought that a good way to communicate with them would be to start reading to them the names of their football T-shirt. To my astonishment, they did not know which team their Tshirt was from; neither could they spell their favourite team names or the very universal names “Ronaldo” or “Messi”.
One common characteristic of most African children who have attended school, is they can speak and read the official language of the country, usually English, French or Portuguese. Very often, those who don’t attend school can only speak their local dialect. On this day, we were at Tambacounda bus station
looking for a bus that would take us to the northern areas of the country and whilst my travel companion was dealing with the ticket purchase and fare negotiations, I waited for her on one of the bus station benches. Soon I became the attraction of the bus stations and found myself surrounded by dozens of young boys who 8
I became curious about those boys, who couldn’t read or identify any Latin alphabet character, seemed to be alone, and interestingly all of them were carrying under their arms around metallic tin which in the best of cases had some spared coins, a small plastic bag with sugar inside or some bread. My friend and I jumped on the bus and continued our trip. But I could not stop thinking about these children, they had something “different” from other children I had met on my previous African trips.
Adventure She magazine, Issue 10, June 2020
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These children, they had a different gaze, some sort of sadness in their eyes, which is very unusual as people in Africa tend to smile and show happiness. I wanted to know more about these boys with their sad eyes and tins in their hands.
typically through forced begging on the streets.
Our bus driver told me that these illiterate children, who were alone and beg at the bus station, are known as “Talibés” (“student” in Arabic). Since that day I started investigating the Talibés, and on subsequent trips to Senegal, I have been trying to document these street children. I also let everyone around me know about their difficult lives and lack of rights.
Human Rights Watch (HRW) has documented boys exhibiting scars and
Talibés are required by their marabouts to meet a daily quota of money or basic foods. If the children fail to meet their quota, that can result in all sorts of abuses.
A Talibé is usually a boy (rarely girls, although there are), between 5 and 12 years old, from Western Africa (Senegal, The Gambia, Guinea, GuineaBissau, Mali or Mauritania). They come from poor families that cannot take care of them and which send them to the bigger cities to study the Quran at a “Daara” (equivalent of Madrasa). The families hope and expect the children to receive basic care, education and learn the Quran from a teacher known as “marabout”. Very often, the marabouts, instead of teaching and caring about their tallies, exploit them for labour,
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welts, usually resulting from the application of electric cables, clubs and canes and has considered this to be Modern Slavery. Apart from the abuses they may face at the end of the day in the Daaras, street begging exposes the Talibés to disease, injury, death, physical abuse and sexual abuse.
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In 2005, the Senegalese government adopted a law prohibiting begging and trafficking but has been accused of "inadequate progress" at improving the situation by Human Rights Watch (HRW). In 2006, the UN Committee on the Rights of the Child expressed concerns about the increasing number of children being made to beg for their livelihoods. According to a report published by HRW, more than 100,000 children are forced to beg by their teachers in Koranic schools
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in Senegal, at least 50,000 in the Dakar region alone. The Senegalese government is trying to reduce the problem by creating Koranic schools where children do not have to beg. There are also numerous national and international NGO projects that try to reunite children with their families and help the Marabouts to return to their villages and earn a living by means other than the exploitation of their students.
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Q&A with Maria Tomas-Rodriguez What took you to Senegal the first time and what year was that?
AsociacionBaolar that works in the south of Senegal
Why is it that very few girls become Slave beggars?
One of my closest friends took one year off from work and lived in the south of Senegal whilst doing volunteering work. That summer, 2016, I decided to visit her during her last month in the country and we did travel for 4 weeks around Senegal.
There are Talibé girls too, but they are not visible as usually they stay at the “Daara” helping with the house duties or in some cases they are forced to marry from a very young age to someone much older.
How many times have you been there and in what years?
What happens to the boys once they become too old to beg?
I have been back almost annually since then. I felt in love with the country, the people, and started doing some volunteering too. Visited in 2016 twice, 2017, 2018 and most recently Christmas 2019- New year 2020.
Usually there are three possibilities. They may become Marabouts themselves and replicate the story to other younger children, they will make their living from the money the new young Talibés collect during the day.
I try to come back in December / January every year.
What changes if any have you noticed in Senegal since your first visit?
They may return to their villages with their families, although usually this is not the case.
I have not noticed much change.
The third possibility and the most common one, is they become young adults unable to integrate in the society. They can’t speak or write French (official language) as this is not taught in the Daaras, they are unable to find a job or get married and usually become homeless.
Some other African countries I have visited on consecutive trips I have observed developments in some key areas, but Senegal I’m afraid in this sense is still behind some of its neighbours. I also must say in here that I usually visit rural areas and off the beaten track place.
Anything else you'd like to add about Senegal?
Perhaps if I would visit the capital, or bigger towns, my answer to this question would be different. Perhaps, there has been a slight improvement in the reduction of plastics and waste.
It is a beautiful country with marvellous landscapes and amazing culture. Senegalese people are very warm and welcoming. Definitively worthy to pay a visit.
Why return so much to Senegal?
These days the situation of CodVid19 is not yet clear in Senegal (at the time of writing these questions), there have been already a
Since my first trip I decided to get involved in some of the activities of the charity 13
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few hundred cases and the government is imposing social distance and travel restrictions on the population. I do hope the country doesn’t get badly affected by the Covid 19 crisis.
annual scholarships, and the maintenance of the sports and theatre school (2018, 2019). All these activities have been graphically documented and been used by Baolar in order to create visual campaigns for funds raising and awareness.
What can you tell us about the Baolar Association?
How can we get in touch with and find out more about the Baolar Association?
The Baolar Asociation is a Spanish charity based in both Spain and Ossouye (Cassamance region, south Senegal).
You can contact them on the following social media channels:
Some of its members live permanently in Senegal, and some others visit Senegal for specific projects.
https://www.asociacionbaolar.org/ https://www.facebook.com/AsociacionBaolar/
Its main objective is to promote cooperation actions for social developments (educational, and cultural) that can lead to changes in the people or communities in which they intervene. The work carried out is aimed at satisfying the needs of the most disadvantaged. Baolar seeks to respond to the needs that arise directly from the communities. The main areas of work are the support to the Ossouye Orphanage, provision of annual scholarships for the local schools, organization and promotion of a local sports school and a theatre school. The funds are raised by the members of the association by either organizing charity events or specific fundraising campaigns among friends and relatives. Due to Covid19 outbreak, Baolar is currently focused in supporting sanitary masks manufacturing by local tailors and has initiated an extensive prevention campaign against Covid 19 transmission.
What’s been your role in the Baolar Association? During these years I have contributed in various ways: Organization of a summer camp for children in Ossouye (2016), refurbishing and disinfection of the Ossouye orphanage (2017), funds raising for the 14
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About Maria Tomas-Rodriguez Maria Tomas-Rodriguez is Spanish. She moved to the UK about 20 years ago and is now a university Senior Lecturer in Control Systems Engineering. She started doing photography as a hobby 12 years ago and in the last 5 years, has developed a substantial portfolio on social/documentary photography. She’s particularly interested in documenting ways of living, cultures and social situations in the countries she visits. Like her friend before her, Maria now does volunteer work during her trips.
Awards/Mentions 2019 British Photography Awards, Documentary category. Winner Independent Photographer, Black and White category. Finalist Monochrome Awards, Photojournalism category. Honourable Mention Annual photography Awards, Photojournalism category. Honourable Mention Travel Photographer of The Year, Oceans, Rivers and Lakes category. Finalist
2020 Head on Photo Awards, Portrait category. Semi-finalist
Following Maria on Social Media You can follow Maria on the following social media channel: Instagram: @photomtr
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Coping With Lockdown In Dubai, New Zealand, USA and the UK – Q&A With Angharad Hodgson Katie Wright Lucja Leonard Paula Reid
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E
ach year, the Oxford English Dictionary has a word of the year. We’re going out on a limb and with the year only about half over, suggesting that Covid-19, Coronavirus, and Lockdown, all have a very strong chance of being the word of the year. After all, the Covid-19 virus has impacted probably all of us, in some way, shape or form.
say, ‘a problem shared a problem halved’? We very much hope that at least some of you will benefit from the following candid thoughts and comments from Angharad, Katie, Lucja and Paula. In case you’re wondering: Angharad Hodgson is a former GB age group triathlete who’s training for her debut IRONMAN triathlon.
Some of you may have lost a loved one, in which case we extend our deepest and wholehearted sympathy to you.
Katie Wright is a doctor and the first woman to have won a backyard ultra, an endurance event where participants run a loop each hour, for as many hours as they can. Fail to make it to the start line on the hour, and you’re out. Katie did 201 km in 30 hours, to win the New Zealand back yard ultra in 2019.
Some of you may have been ill yourselves. Some of you will have had to deal with a loved one being ill. Then there’s lockdown, which of course has also, to some extent, probably impacted all of us. The exact nature of that impact depending on which country we live in, the size of our home, our relationship with those we’ve been locked down with (if anybody), what’s happened to our work, any underlying health issues we may have, and for many, a loss or drop in income with related money worries.
Lucja Leonard has gone from being obese, to an incredibly well toned athlete, with an impressive running resume. Last year she participated in and completed the legendary Ultra Tour de Mont Blanc (UTMB) race. Paula Reid has skied to the South Pole and has sailed around the world, both really extreme adventures.
So, we thought, let’s ask some of Adventure She’s contributors from around the world, what lockdown has meant for them. After all, don’t they
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Where do you normally live?
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Dubai’s cycling track pre lockdown
ANGHARAD: Dubai, United Arab Emirates (UAE). KATIE: I'm based in New Zealand at the moment. LUCJA: That's a tough question for me as I was living in Chamonix, France for 18 months until December 2019 after living in the UK for the past 15 years, since then we have moved (Dion my husband, Gobi my dog & Lara my cat) to USA and we have been quite transient until the pandemic hit We'd moved over here to focus on Dion's speaking engagements at schools, libraries and corporate events across the country. PAULA: I normally live on the South Coast in a village called Alverstoke near Portsmouth - it's very refreshing to live near the sea but I do miss the woods, mud and trees of my childhood home. LUCJA: I have been based in Chattanooga, Tennessee.
Where have you been based during Lockdown?
PAULA: For the last 2 1/2 months, with my 87 year old mother in a place called Copthorne near Gatwick, which is my childhood home. My mother has been amazing; she's a stalwart – positive, strong, capable - I hope I'm like her when I grow up!
ANGHARAD: We decided to stay here in Dubai. I have been working from our apartment the whole time delivering lessons to our school students online. KATIE: For the majority of lockdown I was in Blenheim at the top of South Island, as soon as we moved down into level 2, I moved up to the North Island for a new job. I'm a doctor so have still been working through the lockdown.
What exercise could you do in lockdown? ANGHARAD: At the start of March, when schools closed, we were able to continue with normal life, so I carried on cycling, hiking and running outdoors. I was in a recovery phase 18
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Dubai’s cycling track pre lockdown
with a permit. I used my turbo trainer a lot, started the Insanity program, and once ran 5km in my apartment through sheer boredom. We were allowed back outside to train, on our own and within our local community, from around the start of Ramadan, which fell at the end of April. We weren’t allowed to travel for training, so this meant our cycling and running was confined to the compound we live in. There’s an 8km loop which was fine for running, but got a bit tedious for cycling, so I tended to stick to the turbo! Since around the end of May we have been allowed to travel to the cycling track, although the curfew here is still in place, meaning we can´t leave the house before 6am. This makes for some rather toasty mornings as once it hits 9am the temperature is usually around 38 degrees Celsius.
Social distancing guidelines had to be adhered to and initially we had to wear a mask at all times, even when cycling. As an asthmatic, I found it extremely difficult to exercise in a mask given the hot, humid conditions, it was awful. My running pace took a huge hit and my heart rate average shot up during the time we were required to wear one. However, I think it´s actually helped in the long run! I definitely acclimatised to wearing it, so when we could finally take them off around the end of May, my heart rate was lower on average, than pre-mask times!
after a busy February of racing, so I didn't feel the need to be in the gym or swimming so much, just enjoying being active. Pools and gyms closed around the middle of March and shortly afterwards we were put into complete lockdown. After that, we were only allowed to leave the house once every three days, alone, and before leaving we were required to request a 'Move Permit' online. Police could then regulate numbers of people in certain areas and issue permits for quieter times in your area. During this strict lockdown exercise outside was strictly not allowed, not even
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Katie and a friend celebrating being allowed back onto the trails in New Zealand
whilst out in the sea, so for paddle boarding, kayaking etc, but otherwise, we must wear one everywhere. Until recently, even in our car with members of our household! Also masks no longer need to be worn when exercising in gyms. The other thing is, there was also a limit on the amount of time we could spend outside. The limit kept changing but initially, our cars had an electronic permit that was only valid for the time allocated in our application to be outside, so if you got caught by a speed camera after that time, my understanding is that you could face a hefty fine. I think in April/May we could exercise outside for a maximum of two hours, but now the only restriction is the 11pm6am curfew. KATIE: The general guidance was staying local to your area and exercising alone, or within your bubble. I'm very fortunate, in that my house was right next door to a large farm park with about 50 km of trails, so could get as much trail running in as I wanted right from my doorstep! We are about to head into 'level 1' where for the most part local travel and socialising will return to
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near normal, it will be a while before international travel becomes an option again but there's enough in New Zealand to keep me busy exploring for a long time!
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Mount Ngauruhoe, New Zealand after moving to North Island
LUCJA: I was very lucky in the fact that I was able to still get out on the local trails, some of the State parks were closed but there were enough open to ensure I was able to continue running. Gyms however were closed which was frustrating as I had literally just joined the local gym so ended up doing strength and conditioning workouts at home.
My definition of success was just to go out for run. I didn't really mind how long I ran for or how fast. I found that was the best strategy during the pressures of Covid, to just have the aim of going for a run. It meant I enjoyed it and although I've only been running one to three miles most mornings, I have actually kept it up and I’m proud of that.
PAULA: I have been in lockdown in the UK, so exercise was officially limited to once a day for an hour.
How did you cope with lockdown from a mental perspective?
Because of a torn shoulder muscle from falling off my bike on 9 November, and now suffering a frozen shoulder, I took to running again. I'm not keen on running but I forced myself to go gently running most mornings.
ANGHARAD: I didn't find it too bad. I'm lucky in that I live here with my husband and we
New Zealand pre lockdown
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both just settled in and cracked on. Working full time and being able to interact with students and colleagues was a huge plus as well. On the days when the monotony really got to me, I just made sure I gave myself a break, poured a G&T and video called family or friends.
myself and other people, but by and large I think I have coped very well and occasionally flourished too. My business has pivoted from having everything cancelled to now delivering online masterclasses so that has kept me going and given me daily discipline, goals and deadlines.
KATIE: I was in the fortunate position of still being able to see people (from a distance) at work which I think really helped mentally. I'm sure it has been much more difficult for those stuck inside with limited contact to the outside world.
What impact did lockdown have on your plans for March to June, if any? ANGHARAD: We were supposed to travel to Canada to visit my brother in March. We initially planned to go 'when things had died down' this summer, but...well, things haven't really died down! We are now hoping to get to BC in December. I had also arranged a Community Service expedition to Kenya for some of our Year 12 students in June, so this has also of course been cancelled.
LUCJA: I am a very positive and optimistic person naturally, so I have been pretty good most of the time but there have been moments where I've literally broken down. There was one particular day I went for a run and nothing even happened, but I just started crying during the run and cried for a good 60 mins off and on. It was very therapeutic but very odd.
KATIE: My first big race of the year was due to be a backyard ultra in Australia in June which has been postponed, and unfortunately plans to come back for a visit to the UK after that will have to wait until next year.
It's been very stressful mentally as I'm in a new country, with no support financially available from any government and all of our earning opportunities pretty much dried up overnight but the bills don't!
LUCJA: It has impacted me in a number of ways, the biggest impact has been financially which is the stress factor.
It's also been tough to be isolated in isolation if that makes sense as I am away from all of my close friends and family and in an entirely different time zone so even general chats are harder with that difference. I have a few friends in the USA but it’s such a big country that they are also so far away so I have at times felt very alone and that's been tough.
In terms of adventures as with so many other runners I've had my big races for the year, Zion 100 miles April and Mohican 100 June, taken away from me. My husband was due to travel to Australia to run a 200mile race, Irrational South, and that has also been cancelled.
PAULA: I have a Masters’ Degree in Positive Psychology and I have been delivering virtual masterclasses on ‘Adventure Psychology’ which is about how we survive, cope and thrive during times of challenge and uncertainty, so if anyone should be coping mentally during this difficult time it should be me…
PAULA: In the spring of this year I was planning to carry on my ‘50 Good Turns’ campaign which is to cycle across 50 countries and do one good turn in each. I have cycled across 12 and I was hoping to cycle across more before it got too hot in the summer, so from March to June I was really keen to get back on my bike and tick some more countries off my list… this was not to be - obviously.
However, I am human and not perfect! I have had days of difficulty where I have definitely felt stressed and I have been irritable with 22
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Lockdown in Chattanooga Tennessee
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However my husband did manage to fly to Guadeloupe and he is now sailing a 90 foot yacht back from the Caribbean to Majorca so he managed to escape and now he's enjoying the freedom of sailing across the Atlantic without the limitations and politics of Covid.
I feel the need to regroup and consolidate, probably because there has been so much change and challenge and volatility with the current lifestyle we are enduring. I also got married last September and don't feel like I've had much quality time with my husband. Alex has been away a lot sailing and then we had enforced lockdown, neither of which were conducive to being a newly married, adventurous couple!
Have you had to change your plans for July to September and if so, how? ANGHARAD: This summer was supposed to be a big one back in Pembrokeshire, with Ironman Wales training in full swing. However, with the UAE borders still not open and Ironman Wales postponed to 2021, we have decided to stay in the desert for the summer. It's going to mean a lot of heat training, with temperatures already hitting the low forties.
What have you found hardest? ANGHARAD: The not knowing. We are very privileged to be in a position to have had so many trips cancelled, but not knowing when we can next see family is difficult.
KATIE: I'm still waiting to see what happens in the next few weeks before I make changes to plans in September, I'm due to travel to the USA for September / October but have a few local backup plans in place too!
KATIE: The realization that 'home' (the UK) really is far away has been tough. I think with the ease of international flights and Internet communication it's been easy to forget about the distance. Suddenly having the option of travel removed makes the reality that I'm on the other side of the world hit.
LUCJA: Initially we were to be heading to California for Dion to run the inaugural California Untamed 330mile non-stop race from where we had planned to then base ourselves around the area for the start of summer before heading to Cincinnati for a wellness event we are both involved in called Elevate Cincinnati.
LUCJA: The uncertainty. The pandemic has made me realise how much I rely on routine, even though if you looked at my life it is very changeable and adventurous I really find solace in routine, having goals/targets to achieve and places I need to be so without that it has felt very frustrating and very much like groundhog day.
Now we are staying put in Chattanooga and will head to Cincinnati for a few days to speak at the event and then remain in Chattanooga hoping that the schools reopen in September and we can pick up our postponed bookings. PAULA: Generally my plans for the next year or so was to carry on cycling across some countries but also I had my sights set on bigger challenges: One was to row across the Atlantic in the Talisker challenge and the other was possibly to ski to the North Pole. Both of these have been put on hold for now and I need to concentrate on my life closer to home.
PAULA: I think what I have found hardest is the lack of freedom and the limited circle of living. Things seem slow and limited, whereas I enjoy speed and freedom and exploration, so living with my and being confined to a small radius of space without socialising has felt very restricting for me. I am itching to move, travel, go fast, be free
What helped you through lockdown? ANGHARAD: My kindly, my cat, my husband and my friend Bombay Sapphire.
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Lockdown in the UK
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Lockdown in the UK
KATIE: Having platforms to see and chat to friends online has been great, and actually reconnecting with friends I hadn't spoken to for long time had been an unexpected silver lining.
some further study to qualify as a health coach so that's keeping my mind occupied a lot more now too. PAULA: What helped me through lockdown was my own mental attitude and toolkit of coping strategies. I knew when I was feeling antsy or depressed and would acknowledge it and then try and do something about it. I've been enjoying going outside and having the calming effect of nature and the beauty of this gorgeous season that we've been gifted with this year in England. I've also enjoyed connecting quite intimately and joyfully to people through Zoom.
LUCJA: It's has helped greatly that Dion was with me and that this didn't happen during a time that we were traveling apart and potentially getting stuck apart and being stuck in Chattanooga has been a blessing as it is a fabulous place to be as a trail runner, there is an abundance of trails and state parks so there is no end to exploring. It has helped to reach out to friends and have regular chats and I am now missing that as lockdown has eased around the world and people are trying to get back to normal and the contact feels less.
Any tips you can share on dealing with lockdown? ANGHARAD: The phrase 'unprecedented situation' has started to grate on me a bit but it's important to realise that this really is unprecedented. There is no guidebook on how you should cope, how you should feel or what you should be doing. Read lots of books, catch up on all those hours of sleep you missed whilst in the rat race and slow down. It's actually quite nice!
I have found it really helpful to be positive and keep promoting optimism on the outside, as they fake it until you make it, but that has its own cons as I have found that some of my friends think that I'm doing great and don't need support but sometimes social media can be deceiving, I too am struggling but remain optimistic. I've just signed up for
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KATIE: Trying to find alternative ways to keep up a 'normal routine has helped me. For example for strength training I don't have much equipment at home but it's amazing what you can make work, I've now got a variety of weights for workouts using things from wine bottles to 10L bottles of water! Equally not beating myself up if I just didn't feel like training was important!
From the Editor As this issue is about to be published, more countries as easing lockdown restrictions. Alas there is also already talk, about when a second wave of Covid-19 might hit.
LUCJA: Three main things. I think it's important to have a focus and make a routine. Dion and I aren't working every day, but we are keeping up with projects we need to do, to improve our business and we set aside time to do that work.
What will a second wave do to each one of us? Will we be locked down for a second time? So why not save this article by downloading it, so should we be locked down again, we can re-read Angharad, Katie, Lucja and Paula’s experiences and remember the tips they’ve shared with us.
It's been important to me to set my own training plan alongside working with my coaching clients to ensure we have a goal to work towards, even though our races have been cancelled. I've been a big encourager of participating in virtual races. My coaching clients have been accountable to me for their training, by setting a plan and putting it up on a whiteboard at home. I too have been accountable.
You might also want to write down and record, how you’ve felt during this time and in particular, what’s helped you? The Adventure She team’s done exactly that. After all, none of us know when we might need those strategies to help us through tough times in the future, whether for a second wave of Covid-19, or for some other reason. Hopefully there won’t be a second wave, but as they say, forewarned forearmed.
I also think it's also important to just accept where I am at the moment. There are going to be moments where I might be irrationally upset or moody and it might be that I am not getting super fit or coming out of this with a 6 pack of abs, because I am enjoying a few more beers and wines than normal but my situation isn't normal so I am ok, with being ok.
In case you’re wondering, what’s really helped me, is to practice gratitude. To each day remember to say and to write down “I am grateful for …”. Some days, that was as basic as “I am grateful it’s sunny today / I spoke with X and Y over video chat / I have a park nearby / I managed to go for a walk today, so I must be starting to feel better”.
PAULA: I have lots of tips on dealing with lockdown - my business is based on it! A simple but effective one is to consciously remind yourself what is good and right with the world right now - to practice gratitude. A pragmatic way of doing this is to think of three good things you're grateful for before you go to sleep. Another tip is to think of this situation as an endurance event or ultramarathon if you like. It's going to last for a long time and if we can mentally adjust to that then we can physically and psychologically regulate our focus and energy and motivation to last the distance.
For I found by being grateful for the little things in life, it freed my mind and in so doing, left me more capable to dealing with bigger issues. And you know what, on the tougher days, looking back at my gratitude reminded me how lucky I am, and that I have much for which to be thankful.
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About Angharad Hodgson Angharad is a Welsh speaking Welsh woman, who teaches Spanish in Dubai. She’s an avid triathlete, taking to it like a duck takes to water. Her first triathlon was as recent as 2015 and which she did on a hybrid bike. By 2018 she was representing the GB AgeGroup team, at the European Championships, held in Ibiza, pain. in October 2018. She’s currently training in Dubai, for her debut IRONMAN, IRONMAN Wales, which is held in her home county of Pembrokeshire. Whilst she grew up close to where our editor is from, they don’t actually know each other and only ‘met’ via a Facebook group for adventurers etc. Angharad has very kindly volunteered to help out with editing Adventure She, so you can expect to see or hear more of her, or her influences and passions, in future issues.
You can follow Angharad on the following social media channels: Instagram:
@not.a.triathlete
Website:
http://notatriathlete.com/
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About Lucja Leonard Lucja Leonard has previously written twice for Adventure She magazine, namely in our December 2018 issue where she shared her journey from obesity to ultra-running and our June 2019 issue, where she shared tips on handling periods whilst adventuring Lucja now lives in Chattanooga, Tennessee, in the USA, with her husband Dion, Gobi their dog and Lara their cat. There will be more about Gobi in a future issue of Adventure She magazine.
You can follow Lucja on the following social media platforms:
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Instagram:
@runningdutchie
Twitter:
@runningdutchie
Facebook:
@runningdutchie
YouTube:
@runningdutchie
Websites:
Www.runningdutchie.org
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About Katie Wright Katie Wright is a thirty something year-old doctor who claims to have a running addiction and who doesn't know when to stop! She's currently living her dream life out in New Zealand, exploring trails with any free time she has. In May 2019 she won New Zealand’s inaugural 'Riverhead Relaps', a last person standing event, in the process becoming the first woman to win one of these events. Every hour, she ran a 4.17 miles loop. Failure to finish a loop within an hour, and failure to start a loop on the next hour, means you’re out. Katie kept going for 30 hours and completed over 200 kms!!! In October 2019 she took part at the Big Backyard Ultra, the unofficial world championships for that type of race. Katie continued for 36 hours and covered …. Kms. Only three people were left when she stopped.
You can follow Katie Wright on the following social media channels: Instagram:
@do_your_impossible
Facebook:
@katiewrightdoyourimpossible
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About Paula Reid Paula Reid is a specialist in business, adventure and positive psychology. She is a trainer, facilitator and coach as well as a speaker, author and adventurer and has a master’s degree (MSc) in Positive Psychology and Coaching.
You can follow Paula on the following social media channels: Instagram: @ThePaulaReid Twitter:
@ThePaulaReid
Website:
www.paulareid.com/about-me
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Challenge Walks With The LDWA By Steph Cooke
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Have you ever wondered how some people on your hiking holiday can hike for hours on end, with a heavy pack, and make it look easy? Have you ever wondered how could you train up to be a hardcore hiker, despite the fact none of your friends or family are into hiking? Have you ever wondered about those groups of people who once a year, seem to descent upon a tranquil part of the British countryside and all do exactly the same hike? Wonder no more, for the answer could well be that they hike with the Long Distance Walking Association (LDWA). Steph Cooke reveals all. Remember, whilst these events might currently be on hold, depending on the lockdown rules where you live, you could always set yourself your own challenge walk.
As a child I didn’t excel at sports. Being short, chubby and lacking in coordination meant I was always picked last for teams and I spent my school career trying to do as little as possible. A family holiday to the Lake District when I was 14 started my love of walking, and I fell in love with the mountains and the glorious far-reaching views. This was followed by family day trips to the Peak District, but It wasn’t until I was 24, when a work colleague asked me to join her on a charity ascent of Ben Nevis, that I started taking walking seriously. I seriously doubted my ability to do it-
the climb was a tough slogbut as I stood on the misty summit, looking out where the view should have been, something changed in me. A love of adventure had been triggered. I discovered the Long Distance Walkers Association (LDWA) soon afterwards. The LDWA currently has groups in England, the South of Scotland and Wales. The local groups organise group hikes of varying distances, but generally around 15 to 25 miles. In addition, some groups organise challenge walks, which can be as long as 100 kilometres (62 miles). There’s even a 100
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mile event, but you have to qualify for that. A common distance for a challenge walk (yes you can run it, but it’s not a race) is 26 miles. I heard of a 26 mile challenge walk near me. It sounded adventurous, but the thoughts of walking the equivalent of a marathon in one day seemed beyond me. Still I did it. After that first time, I couldn’t walk for three days afterwards! But I persevered and each challenge walk became slightly easier. There is usually a time limit on these challenges, and I check this time limit very
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carefully before entering, as I am a slow walker and usually one of the last to finish. I’ve completed a few multi-day treks since, carrying all my gear with me, but sadly I never seem to get any faster. I don’t arrive at my accommodation until the evening and there’s always a steady trickle of walkers overtaking me throughout the day. I’ve learnt to accept this, to worry less about my speed and to enjoy the journey and the changing landscapes I walk through. Last year my friend Sue persuaded me to enter the
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Dovedale Dipper, a 27-mile challenge event, organised each August by the Matlock Rotary Club. Another friend, Steve, also signed up for it. The Dovedale Dipper starts in the delightful village of Hartington, which is in the Peak District National Park. The residents wake to hordes of walkers and runners clattering through the streets and heading for the hills. This year was to be a particularly poignant event as it was the final year the Rotary Club were running the Dipper, and if nobody was prepared to
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take the event over, it would be the last one. 27 miles is a long way to walk in one day, plus the Dovedale Dipper is a notoriously hilly route. Not being the fastest or the fittest walker, I was having serious doubts about my ability to complete it within the 11-hour time limit. I comforted myself with the thought that they usually allow slower walkers a little extra time, but as I met up with my friends Sue and Steve to register for the 9am start, we were in for a shock.
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The village hall serves as both the start and finish point, so the Rotary Club book it for the whole day. This year though there’d been a mix up and the Women’s Institute (WI) had booked the hall for 8pm. As the WI ladies were unlikely to want a load of sweaty, tired walkers milling around everyone would need to vacate the hall by 8pm sharp. We were told the checkpoints would be very strict on reinforcing closing times. This was followed by an announcement that in order to be able to serve us a meal at the end, we would need to finish by 7:30pm, giving us just 10½ hours to complete. Sue and I exchanged nervous glances. This was going to be tougher than usual - we would have no margin for error.
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Checkpoint number one was on the High Peak Trail cycleway, which meant a couple of easy, flat miles to reach it. I drank a couple of mugs of juice and helped
“I am a slow walker and usually one of the last to finish.”
myself to a custard cream for energy while Sue made friends with a Border Collie. We left the High Peak Trail for more fields and tracks, crossing the attractive Beggars Bridge and
Despite its name, the Dovedale Dipper does not actually pass through Dovedale but rather above it, and thanks to good weather we were treated to stunning views all day. There is quite a bit of climbing in the first section and we were trying to maintain a good pace over the rough ground.
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climbing a steep concrete track to the second checkpoint in the village of Longnor. As usual for me, we were near the back of the pack so couldn’t afford ourselves the luxury of staying for too long. The next section is particularly pretty but always boggy in places, even in August - the ‘Manifold Riverside Trail’ follows the course of the river through grassy flowerfilled meadows. Too soon we had to leave it to climb steeply on a wet, muddy and narrow path through gorse bushes that tore at our clothing. We were looking forward to a lunch stop at checkpoint three at Revidge, where I lost my poorly guarded
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piece of cake to Sally the Hungarian Rizla! More substantial snacks were needed here as we knew that the next section would be the toughest and I was concerned about how long we had taken so far. We had already walked 16 miles in the hilly Peak District. Now as we descended through fields to Warslow, I tried my best to ignore the 369-metre bulk of Ecton Hill looming in wait for us. But we had no choice, to continue with this challenge, meant conquering Ecton Hill.
I felt some of the pressure ease, although a steep descent and another almost as strenuous ascent had to be negotiated, before the next checkpoint at Wetton. We must have looked beaten as we stumbled in we were immediately asked whether we wanted to retire! We three were the last walkers through, and the clock was ticking, but no, we weren’t giving up now.
The last stretch takes in lovely Wolfscote Dale, following a stream running through the steep-sided valley, and is mercifully flat though rather monotonous after 24 miles.
As we walked steeply up the road to the castle-like folly marking the start of the climb, I was already breathless. A steady trickle of sweat dripped from my fringe into my eyes, stinging and blurring my vision. Every step was an effort, for Ecton Hill is a near vertical slope rising straight up from the valley. It is one of the steepest climbs I have ever attempted. Still gasping for breath and now with thigh muscles screaming, we climbed slowly, bent double against the sheer grassy bank.
“We three were the last walkers through, and the clock was ticking, but no, we weren’t giving up now.”
Although my feet were aching and I felt weary, we managed to pick up the pace and as we climbed out of the dale to follow the roads back into Hartington, we even overtook a group of runners. We strode into the village hall with a couple of minutes to spare, eagerly looking forward to the jacket potato and hot cuppa waiting for us. Mission accomplished!
Eventually the gradient started to ease, and we took a breather whilst we admired the view. What a reward for our climb- we could see for miles; rolling hills slashed with white limestone outcrops surrounded us, the sunlight glinting off the windows of tiny toy-like cars on the road far below.
After a brief rest we set off for the next checkpoint at Castern, taking a path which snaked vertiginously high above the deep wooded cleft of the Manifold Valley. We’d been warned that thunderstorms were forecast, but luckily we had little more than a rumble of thunder and a few bloated rain drops which cooled us as we negotiated the narrow, rocky track down towards the hamlet of Milldale. 36
At the last checkpoint we were reminded that we would need to be back at the village hall by 7:30pm so, downing a mug of juice and grabbing a handful of crisps, Sue and I strode off, forcing poor Steve to run after us as he’d settled down for a rest.
Challenge events like the Dovedale Dipper are run most weekends, even in the winter. The idea is to walk a certain distance in a dayusually roughly marathon distance, although most events now offer one or two shorter routes. The events, which have wonderfully alliterative names such as the Baslow Boot Bash, Ponton Plod or Steppingley Step, are run by various charity groups or local groups of the Long Distance Walkers Association, with
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members volunteering their services. The format is roughly the same - a series of checkpoints offer refreshments and first aid if needed, plus transport back to base for retirees. A meal at the finish is usually offered, with a certificate and maybe a cloth badge for successful completers. I did have some worries around taking part as a rather mature, slower walker rapidly approaching fifty, but needn’t have worried- there are always plenty of walkers in their
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50s, 60s and even older taking part. In fact, I’m sure doing these events regularly helps me keep fit and I hope to be fit enough to still be walking them in twenty years. I hope that this article has inspired some of you too, to consider entering. Perhaps I’ll see you at a checkpoint somewhere!
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My tips on getting into long distance walking If you fancy signing up, don’t try to complete a full 26-mile event if you’ve not done anything like this before. Build up over time; get used to walking 10 miles, then gradually increase your distance each week. Don’t do all your walking round the streets- get off road and explore local footpaths. Tackle some hills and get wet and muddy! Consider entering one of the shorter distances first so you know what to expect. Refreshments at challenge walks vary widely from home-made cakes at every checkpoint to biscuits (and if you are slow like me, they’ll all be gone by the time you get there!) Make sure you take some food with you, particularly if you have certain dietary requirements. Carry the correct gear as the route could be quite exposed, and the British weather is always unpredictable. A good set of waterproofs is a must, as well as a headtorch if you are likely to finish in the dark. Footwear is a choice of preference- many people favour walking boots, but they cause me blisters over long distances, so trail shoes work best for me. Some events have a compulsory kit list, so make sure you read this before you turn up. Taking a tin mug for drinks at checkpoints helps reduce waste caused by plastic cups. A blister kit is a good idea as there’s nothing worse than rubbing a blister at mile ten and then having to put up with it for the next sixteen miles! Experiment with what works best for you on your training walks. Although most events give you a route description (or a link to download one) these can be sparse or difficult to interpret and it’s so easy to make things fit! Take a map or GPS with you as a back-up. (Editor’s tip, print off the descriptions in advance and for the walk, keep them in a waterproof map case. Some people laminate printed descriptions, but that’s not environmentally friendly). Know your limitations. Most events have a time limit, with closing times at each checkpoint. If you don’t think you’ll be able to complete the event within the time limit, think carefully about entering. Sometimes it’s possible to switch to a shorter option if you’re struggling, although please do contact the organisers and let them know you’re doing this. Challenge events are becoming increasingly popular, and many fill up fast. Some offer a waiting list, so if you’ve entered and need to drop out, let them know if you can so they can offer your place to someone else. For details of organised challenge events, see the Long Distance Walkers Association’s website (https://www.ldwa.org.uk/ ).
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About Steph Cooke Steph Cooke is a keen long-distance walker who loves to inspire other women to get outside and to show them that you’re never too old for adventure. You can follow her adventures on the follow her on these social media channels: Website:
www.endurance-adventures.co.uk
https://www.facebook.com/enduranceadventures/
https://www.instagram.com/endurance_adventures/
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Downhill Mountain Bike Racing By Rhiannon Gunner
s
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In our June 2019 issue, we encouraged everyone to ‘Seize The Moment’. But what’s the point of encouraging others to ‘seize the moment’, if the Adventure She team doesn’t also ‘seize the moment’. Our editor wants to improve her mountain biking. So, seeing someone post on Facebook (pre Coronavirus lockdown) that they were looking for others to mountain bike with, our editor put her hand up, whilst also explaining she’s rather slow and nervy. On the day in question a third rider, Rhiannon Gunner, age 20, also showed up. Turns out Rhiannon, or Rhi, is a sponsored downhill and endure mountain biker. Well, you can guess what happened next, our editor asked Rhiannon a whole load of questions and also asked her, to share a race day experience with Adventure She’s readers. Here goes.
Race day - Don’t let the pink fool you, I’m fast. It all starts with a quick briefing of the race rules then we’re off. You can feel a buzz in the air of all the excited competitors discussing their plans and race lines to get them the fastest times of the day. The order for the day is friendly banter and many fist bumps. As I wait in nervous anticipation on the start line, I can feel my heart racing. 3...2...1...GO!!! Off I go as fast as my little legs can pedal, my adrenaline is at full throttle. Over the logs, round the corners then straight onto the gnarly section, roots jumping out at every angle. All I want to do, is make it through this section upright on two wheels. Next are berms, pumping the bike into them to gain extra speed without having to pedal. I’m flying out high on the corner, perfect more speed for the jump. Suddenly I’m blinded by photographer’s flashes, trying to remember to smile as I get some serious air. Phew I landed nicely with no dramas. I’m now braking hard into the switch backs, flicking mud out on every corner. I pedal hard to send it over the drop with more flashing lights. The finish line comes into view. Last push, my legs burning, still pedalling as fast as my muscles will allow. Finally finished with a massive grin on my mud splattered face. The stage may be less than 3 minutes long, but WOW it’s exhausting. I wipe the dirt out of my eyes, spit the mud out of my mouth hydrate and head off to another exhilarating stage. An awesome day competing and now all is left is to wash the bike and view all the photographs from the day online. Hope no one caught me sliding down the track on my arse!
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Q&A with Rhiannon Gunner You’ve sent us some amazing photos from various races. Thank you for those. What races were you doing prior to lockdown? The Southern Enduro Series, Root1 Series and UK National Enduro Series
You’re 20, when and how did you get into mountain biking? At 17 years old during the summer, my dad was riding with his friends and was a part of a few different local cycling groups. College left me quite stressed with work and exams, so I started cycling with my dad as a fun form of escapism.
However, I didn’t fall in love with mountain biking until I went on a FMG (Fleet Mountain bike Group) ride and that’s where I found like-minded people with a passion for the sport.
Have you competed in any other sports?
Image courtesy of David Mcfarlane, BigMacPhotography.
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Yes, before mtb became my life I trained in an ice rink 4 or more times a week as a figure skater and competed in figure skating competitions.
an electromagnetic pulse therapy machine to help me heal up faster.
Alongside that I was also big into long distance running and regularly ran 5ks with the occasional 10k or half marathon race.
When I first started riding, I always joked about how I would love to be the first woman to ride the Red Bull Rampage, but that was and still is well out of my depth.
What do you enjoy about MTB? Just the chance to be outside embracing nature and the fresh air is great, but nothing beats the adrenaline rush you get from doing something scary or dangerous. I am constantly trying to work towards goals (which is what keeps me motivated), whether that’s climbing to the top of a steep hill or getting the courage to descend at speed, even attempting to hit a bigger jump or drop.
Is it dangerous? Of course, it is, all sports have their risks and you would be naïve to think mountain biking is any different. Most people I have met in the MTB community have broken at least one bone from doing the sport. Myself, I’ve managed to break my wrists 3 times and each time I get up from the injuries with a burning desire to just get back on the bike and get stronger. As a consequence of all the injuries, I have invested in
What are your goals for the future?
What’s the Rampage? It is the most popular and gnarliest freeride competition that takes place in Utah. Only the most insane riders get a chance to even attempt Rampage. Red Bull describes it as 'mountain biking's truest test of skill and mental toughness. It has evolved over 18 years to become freeride mountain biking's most coveted title.' To this day no female has ever competed. Last year (2019) Casey Brown was the first woman to be invited, but she got injured unfortunately. Casey Brown for this reason (as well as many others) is one of my role models. I dream of getting to the skill level she is at (getting closer to the skill level as professional males) as well as inspiring women in the sport like she does.
So, what are your not quite so far in the distance goals? 43
My goals at the moment are to win National Enduro races and hopefully win the overall someday soon and I’m still aiming not just to be a good rider ‘for a girl’ but a good rider overall and start to be just as fast or faster as the top guys competing in the same races. Bigger rides, bigger races, bigger sponsors.
What are your favourite places to ride? My all-time favourite places to ride are Rogate, Afan and Bike Park Wales. They all have different sized fun jumps from small tables and kickers to big gap jumps and they also all have more natural steep technical trails to really test your riding abilities.
What’s the difference between the various disciplines? Enduro is timed on the descents (stages) and the times for all the stages are added together at the end to give you an overall time. The transitions between each stage aren’t timed, however they are mandatory and sometimes have to be completed within a time-limit. (It normally isn't as steep, rough or have as big features as a downhill). Downhill is one stage that you race down twice and only your fastest time out of the two counts. Riders will start at intervals, normally in
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an order of slowest to fastest. Freeride is completely different to both downhill and enduro, instead of it being based on time it's judged on scores. You get a score for multiple things e.g., speed, style, control and creativity of line choice etc. It’s less based on speed and more focused on trail features and skills.
Which do you prefer, Enduro or Downhill? This is such a hard question for me which is why I’m competing in races of both disciplines.
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In downhill you don’t have to pedal as much as you would in an enduro, however a lot of the tracks are faster and scarier. I think I’m leaning more towards Downhill at the moment just because I love the adrenaline factor and hate pedalling.
Bike Park or Woodland? I think you learn a lot more when riding natural woodland trails especially if they are steep and rooty. However, nothing beats riding fast down a smooth manmade bike park trail where everything flows.
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Hard tail or full suspension bike? For the way I ride I would choose full suspension all day. Hard tail bikes are brilliant to learn with as you can feel everything beneath your bike, so it helps you learn body position and how to handle your bike better. But as soon as you begin hitting bigger stuff like jumps and drops you want a full suspension bike in case your landing goes a bit wrong you’ve got that extra suspension to save you.
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Image courtesy of David Mcfarlane, BigMacPhotography.
What tips do you have for people looking to get into mountain biking? My top tips for getting into mountain biking: 1. Safety first always wear a helmet. 2. Start off riding easy trails that you enjoy. It's definitely not the easiest sport to pick up so don’t be afraid to start slow on some mellow trails then work up to rocketing down some gnarly descents. 3. Ride with friends or join a riding community like I joined Fleet Mtb Group. Filthy Rides MT is another one. 4. Enjoy the fresh air, discover your local woods/bike parks and new locations.
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5. Wear comfortable breathable kit. If you’re out shredding all day you will need kit that will keep you cool and comfy like my Filthy Rides kit. 6. Hydrate, water is your friend. 7. Ride within your capabilities. Remember the pros make it look easy. 8. Lastly mountain biking should be fun, so get out and enjoy!
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So, what about me and my mountain biking I’ll leave the jumps to the likes of Rhiannon and instead keep practising the blue trails that Rhi kindly showed me and which needed all of my wits to get around safely. Hopefully before too long, that bike park (not one of the ones named in this article) will be open again and who knows, perhaps by this time next year, I’ll have graduated onto the reds. For now, though, with many parks closed due to
Image courtesy of David Mcfarlane, BigMacPhotography.
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Coronavirus, I’ll keep to those cycling trails which are both open and well within my ability range. After all, best not to break a bone and put added pressure onto the health service at this particular time.
Adventure She magazine, Issue 10, June 2020
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About Rhiannon Gunner Rhiannon Gunner is an ambassador for Filthy Rides MTB. You can follow her on the following social media channels. Instagram:
mtb.rhi
Youtube:
MtbRhi
About the Rampage and Casey Brown If you want to know more about the RedBull Rampage and Casey Brown, you can do so here: https://www.redbull.com/gb-en/casey-brownway-of-the-wildcard
More About Getting Into Mountain Biking If you want to go mountain biking, why not contact your local trail centre or a qualified mountain bike coach and find out if they have any lessons on offer. Even with Rhiannon there to encourage me, there’s no way scary cat me could have coped even with the blues, had it not been for a 3 hour private lesson I’d previously had with two time contributor to Adventure She magazine, Hannah Marie Attenburrow. Yes mountain biking is very much like skiing in that sense, a lesson or two or lots of them, can be worth their weight in gold.
Image courtesy of David Macfarlane, BigMacPhotography
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Cycling During Lockdown By Grace Bovis
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Quiet roads from less road traffic during lockdown, was for cyclists, a silver lining. Here Grace Bovis shares her experience of cycling out of London, to Box Hill in leafy Surrey, a route made popular, ever since it was used in the 2012 Olympics road race, and subsequent annual Ride London 100 mile charity ride.
I had escaped. Escaped the South London shoebox I call home. The shoebox that had seemed like such a good idea in the pre-pandemic world when homes weren’t for living in. They were just places to rest between long hours in the office and direct the Deliveroo driver to. Close confinement had turned my shoebox into a boiling pot of irritations between my partner and me. I needed to get out. Yet another walk around the crowded common up the road wasn’t going to cut it. I flexed my regained right to unlimited exercise and embarked on a 70km round trip to Box Hill, a mecca for
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the cyclists of Sussex. I dusted off my lycra and cycling gloves purchased for the annual London to Brighton race I had attempted a couple of years back. I now looked the part if nothing else. I loaded up my bike bag with repair kit, jumper and enough food for a week. This would be the furthest I had been from home in months. Self-sufficiency seems more important than ever and with cafes still shut I wouldn’t be able to rely on a mid-ride hot chocolate to fuel me home. I mounted my road bike, usually reserved for purely logistically trips, and set off with a grin. The familiar feeling of adventure bubbled away in my stomach. I hadn’t expected this ride to be so pleasurable. I weaved through London traffic, enjoying swishing past those on heavy Boris bikes. At the lights, I left the serious cyclists in my dust as they struggled to clip in. At least they would be maximising efficiency of their five pumps on the peddles before the next set of lights. Before long, the traffic had thinned out to just drivers that thought better than to pass cyclists so close, they had to dodge the wing mirror. I must be out of London I thought with a relaxed sigh. I hit my first proper hill and zealously got out of the saddle pumping 49
my legs until my thighs burned. The next hill came before I could recover, I dropped down the gears so quickly the chain sprung off. I waited for the sound of horns from driver’s irritated at my slowing pace, but they never came. I wiped the grease from my hands before chomping down a snack bar and carrying on my journey. I slowed as I passed huge country houses just visible above thick hedges and at the end of gravel driveways. What must it be like to live in a house with more bathrooms than occupants, not to mention off-road parking? My former smugness of central London living a distant memory. These people had the right idea. I glided along empty roads sandwiched between green fields occupied by curious cows and serenading birds. I was falling in love with the English countryside all over again; I can’t now remember why I felt the need to jet off to other countries every time I got the chance. Lockdown reset on appreciation had worked its magic on me, although the next rain shower might jog my memory. Mentally, I prepared for myself for the infamous zig zag Box Hill climb, but it never came. I had plodded up the undulating roads until suddenly I was at the top. As if making up for the all the times it had led me
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Box Hill during Ride London
down no through roads throughout the years, Google maps had taken me up the other side. Sparing me an unrelenting slog. The hazy June sun draped over the sweeping hills below which were peppered with families enjoying the freedom of space. Keeping two meters apart has become an Olympic sport in London, involving leaping into vacant patches of pavement or for those crowded sections, resorting to holding your breath until the path clears. Here, however, space was obtained naturally and without effort. I stopped only for a swig of water and to take a picture (proof of mission success). I
Box Hill during Ride London
gave a grateful pat to my thighs in thanks for getting me here after months of neglect before gleefully racing down the switchbacks towards Dorking. I tried not to imagine what would happen if I hit a pothole at this speed. I passed plenty of lycra-clad men doing battle with the climb, receiving an acknowledging nod from each (another countryside thing). I felt reluctant to head back to London so when I spotted a pony and her foal in a field, I took it as a sign to pause once more and breathe in the fresh air. I checked Strava but the numbers didn’t mean much, my usual measure of success had been if I had 50
got to work on time, not been splashed by a disagreeable taxi driver or squashed against the curb by a bus. Although this trip didn’t have quite the magnitude of my privileged past pursuits of adventure, it will go down as one of my favourites for its simplicity and enjoyment factor. I hadn’t had to get on a plane, it had cost me nothing but sweat and taken no more than 15 minutes of planning. I got home with that satisfying feeling of earning an evening of relaxation and good food. By the time I collapsed into bed that night I had already planned my next twowheeled adventure.
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Gratitude is to us Like roots are, to a tree, Let’s nurture our gratitude So like trees We too can flourish And reach for the sky. Jane A Harries
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Adventure, Scholarship And Rubbish By Kat Owens 52
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In these times where travel much beyond our homes is restricted to so many of us, what to do if now was meant to be our time to travel? Whilst there are numerous one day adventures out there, what if that’s just not enough for your soul? What to do if you wanted to spend a long period of time overseas? Have you considered working or studying overseas? True opportunities at this particular moment might be very limited, or in some areas, even near impossible to find. But you know what, if we don’t try, we won’t get. So, what’s the harm in researching opportunities? Katherine Owens knew she wanted to experience living overseas, but with work, husband and children, it wasn’t going to happen unless she did something about it. Katherine applied for and won a Fulbright scholarship. Here she shares her experience of what it was like to live with her family in India, whilst she worked with, exchanged ideas with, and learned from others, on the issue of rubbish. In our September issue, we’ll share Katherine’s tips on applying for a scholarship, just in case her tips might help you too, to live your dream courtesy of such a scholarship..
I like to travel but dread being a tourist. I do not love crowds. I do not like getting the packaged ‘song and dance’ of any place. When someone says, “If you go to (blank) you just have to (blank),” you can count me out. I hope this does not make me sound like a travel snob. It’s not that. It’s just that I would rather meet regular people and talk to them. I
would rather find an unheard of restaurant that serves home cooking. I would rather get lost and discover something that is not necessarily spectacular, but definitely real. And so, I find myself in Varkala, Kerala, India in February. I have brought my somewhat willing family (three children aged 13, 11, 53
5, and one husband aged mid to late 40s) with me to live in India for six months under a Fulbright Nehru grant. They have dropped their American lives and made their way to the other side of the world for me to study marine litter in a new setting. To be sure, the Indian subcontinent does not need me to help them understand marine debris. There are
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thousands of researchers working on this and other kinds of pollution all across this enormous country. But it is an opportunity to crosspollinate with researchers, to teach students, and to learn from the work they are doing. As for my family, for the record, they agreed to come —we discussed it extensively before the event— but I knew that they did not really know what they were agreeing to. We have been living in the sleepy Kazhakootam neighborhood of Thiruvananthapuram for a
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little over a month, trying to acclimate to spicy foods at every meal, drivers for whom staying in the proper lane is unheard of, and a new school. We are managing, and yet we welcome the chance to visit the beach at Varkala and play tourist. Varkala, by Indian tourism standards, is not even that touristy— it is not as crowded as Goa. It is not an enclave of Europeans-only. During our weekend we find as many Indian as Western tourists. That said, Varkala is by far the most interaction we 54
have had with Western tourist crowds since we arrived six weeks ago; with all the baggage that goes along with that. It means we must be wary of our belongings more than is ever needed in Kazhakootam. We see beggars for the first time. There are dozens of feral dogs. People try to sell us tshirts and cheap drums and ice cream and rides to “an elephant festival” and a silk sleeping bag. Those are a no, a yes, a hard yes, a no, and a yes. The silk sleeping bag is as ridiculous as it sounds: a rectangle shaped cloth envelope with the
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tensile strength of a wet paper bag. Of course, we buy three of them. The dye from the cloth transfers to the children’s sweaty bodies in the night, making them pink and blue in odd places the next day. We see no seabirds. Let that sink in. A seashore with no seabirds. But there is an employee of the hotel restaurant whose task is to use a slingshot to keep back the crows that threaten to overtake the open-air dining room. In other words, my son found his dream job.
To be sure, the Indian subcontinent does not need me to help them understand marine debris. There are thousands of researchers working on this and other kinds of pollution all across this enormous country. But it is an opportunity to cross-pollinate with researchers, to teach students, and to learn from the work they are doing.
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“You have to be careful,” the young man tells us, “that you don’t hit the people.” I’d say so. Periodically a small bus stops at the beachside road and vomits out another two dozen tourists. In one batch, backpackers, their lives squashed into enormous packs that tower over their shoulders and threatened teetering over with the next strong wind. Later, a group of yoga enthusiasts with mats, loose-fitting clothing, and tattoos, are ejected-marching like ants toward some destination down the boardwalk. Never have I seen so many man-buns in one setting. Among the crowd are some odd folk. How best to put it… walking around Varkala makes me want to review the FBI’s online most wanted list. You know, just in case I can lend a hand. There are very sketchy Western folks in abundance—and I say this as someone who happily lived on a washed up beach in South Carolina in the 1990s and thought it was grand. I can handle weird, old, kooky, quirky crackpots. But some of these folks… some of these folks look like they are on the run from something terrible. The Indians we meet are nice, but at times the 56
attention becomes overwhelming. We are as friendly as we are at our home base. But we are protected in Kazhakootam, surrounded as we are by our lovely Indian neighbors and colleagues. Yes, if I wait on a corner by the national highway for my oldest son’s bus, people will point, but our friends and neighbors in Kazhakootam treat us like humans and not like a zoo exhibit. At Varkala we become exhausted with the requests for selfies. People form crowds around us, hovering and watching as the children spend time on the beach. I am not exactly sure why. There are certainly other westerners around to observe. We do have fun. The hotel is comfortable, and we love its restaurant. Admittedly, it is a bit of a red flag when they ask how I want my Eggs Benedict cooked. We are close to the beach. The shells are amazing. We enjoy everything we eat— being in a touristy place means a respite from spicy food. Many of the people we meet are friendly and we learn a lot from them. Like the very kind pair of Indian gentlemen who talk to my daughter and me while the gents swim. I point out the clay pots the children have been finding as the tide recedes. We can see them in the shallows, buried in the sand under the water. It is not long before
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the kids fish them up, making a row on the sand. By the point I begin conversing with the men, the children have lined up half a dozen. Several of them are still whole and we cannot believe our luck. We plan to bring them back with us.
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“Oh no, no no no,” I answer, aghast, “but are these sacred, have we destroyed something sacred?”
We see no seabirds. Let that sink in. A seashore with no seabirds.
“What are they for?” I ask, “These pots. Do you use them for baking?” Rajeesh shakes his head, his eyes veering skyward as he searches for the right words, “No, these are for when the people have died, and we burn the bodies.” My jaw drops, “You mean to say, these have been used as urns, for cremated humans?”
Surely this is not what the Fulbright Commission has in mind for fostering mutual understanding through educational and cultural exchange. “No, it’s okay,” he tells me, frowning slightly as he shakes his head, “it’s not sacred.”
“Yes!” he says, smiling that we are communicating, and I understand.
Despite Rajeesh’s assurances we do not bring the clay pots home. In no time at all we have to pack our things, rinse the sand from our feet one last time, and navigate the drum and ice cream salesmen along the boardwalk to the hired car. So, that is Varkala. To us, at least. We meet regular people and talk to them. We find a restaurant that serves someone’s version of Eggs Benedict. We experience the real. That’s something more than spectacular That’s something more than spectacular, right?
About Kat Owens Katherine (Kat) Owens is a faculty member at the University of Hartford in Connecticut, a National Geographic Explorer, and was a Fulbright Nehru Academic and Professional Excellence Scholar in 2018-2019. She lives in central Connecticut with her partner and three children. Her academic work focuses on marine pollution and civic engagement.
Following Kat on social media Instagram:
https://www.instagram.com/katowens2012/
Twitter:
@KO_InsectWrtr
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Books Reviews This time around, we’ve reviewed two very different books, both by people our editor’s met. Ok, she only met Nicole Cooke briefly at a book signing. But she ended up, purely by chance, twice sitting next to Megan Knoyle Lewis at the Royal Geographical Society. Megan is so modest, our editor had to prise out of her what her biggest adventure to date had been. See the page opposite for more of that.
The Breakaway
If you are into watching professional sport, or, if you are into helping raise the profile of women in sport, this is definitely a must read book for you.
By Nicole Cooke
Nicole Cooke is the first British person to win the Tour de France, which she did twice. She’s also the first British person to win a cycling Olympic gold on the road. But have you heard of her?
Reviewed by Jane Harries
In this no holes bared book, she shares her story, including alleged prejudices against her and alleged drug taking within the cycling world. When I first read it, I was shocked, horrified and disgusted, with what she had to endure. I still am. I believe it’s important for all of us to read this book. Because if we read books like this, we educate ourselves as to the world at large and are thereby forewarned as to the hurdles we, or the next generation of women, may face. Forewarned as they say is forearmed. I urge you to persuade the men you know who are into cycling, also to read this book. After all, it’s a terrific book on cycling and cycling culture, plus, it might help persuade them to get on board the fight for talent to be rewarded and encouraged, regardless of gender.
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In the Shadow of the Great Wall By Megan Knoyle Lewis Reviewed by Jane Harries Have you ever wondered how much planning goes into a major expedition? Well now is your time to find out. For in this book Megan Knoyle Lewis doesn’t just share the physical journey of riding a horse across China, she shares her whole journey, including her journey in planning the trip, her journey with bureaucracy, her journey with the team, her journey with postponed dreams - thanks to a major fall and serious injury part way through - and her journey into Chinese history and culture. If you’re planning your own expedition and need some inspiration, or if you need an external stimulus to get you to seize the moment, or if you are a history buff, you’ll get so much out of this book. If history bores you, don’t worry, you can skip those sections as Megan’s thoughtfully included those deeper passages in italics. As for Megan, we very much hope to interview her for an future issue of Adventure She magazine, for she hasn’t just ridden a horse across China, but subsequently kept on riding - in stages - ever heading west, until she made it to the Pacific Ocean in California. Not at all bad for a retiree then in her 60’s!!!!!!!!! This is definitely one inspiring read and full of life lessons for all of us.
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Training for the OCC – Part Of UTMB Week By Jane Harries UTMB is quite probably the closest festival ultra-runners have, to being in the Olympics. It’s kind of an unofficial world championships for trail ultrarunning. A few athletes might be the lucky recipient of an invitation to participate or obtain a charity slot. But most of the runners need to qualify. This involves training up for, participating in and collecting points by finishing certain named qualifying races. Once that’s done, wannabee participants need to apply for a place in a way oversubscribed ballot. (Yes, we know for 2020 onwards, there’s an alternate way to qualify, but as this article focuses on 2019, that’s not relevant to this article). When the ballot results come out in January almost 8 months before the race, ultra-runners can finally book their summer holiday. Those with a place, book Chamonix. For those unlucky in the ballot, it’s time to research a Plan B. In January 2019 and at the first time of trying, our editor’s name came up in the ballot for the OCC, the shortest of the balloted races and which itself is 56km. She couldn’t believe her luck. She was so grateful. Especially grateful, for the reality was with her history of injuries, it was unlikely she’d manage to train up for and do enough qualifying races, to enter the ballot in subsequent years. She couldn’t wait, it was time to get training and to build herself up again, for she was about to become a part of the world’s biggest trail running festival.
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Pre Ballot Excitement 9 January 2019 The results of the ballot are out tomorrow. I kind of entered it on a whim, simply because I could. Now though I can’t believe how nervous I am about the ballot. I realise I really want this. I want this big challenge to train up for and what bigger challenge than to take part in UTMB week? I’m mentally ready for this challenge. After doing the Marathon Des Sables and the IRONMAN 70.3 Word Championships in 2017, I needed a break. Losing my father last year and everything that involved, reinforced my need for that break. Now, I want to be back in the game, back participating, even if it’s towards the back of the pack.
The Ballot Result 10 January 2019 I’m in!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Whooppee. So is Anita who I met at the MDS. She lives not too far away from me which is good, we can catch up do some long runs together. It’ll help keep things interesting. Plus we’re both slow, so we should match up ok speed wise. How do I feel? Lucky of course and very grateful. Scared too. For if I’m to finish within all the cut offs, I’ll need some mega improvement in my fitness.
Training For Real 13 January 2019 Sometimes nature is too beautiful to keep running. Sometimes one needs to stop to appreciate the moment. Today’s run walk involved muddy trails, waterlogged paths and acrobatics in order to keep my feet dry. All ended well though, with the most
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terrific sunset imaginable, a blue sky, firey red clouds and a brilliant orange horizon. 16 January 2019 Yesterday I got talking to a dog walker on the local huge beach. I thought I knew her from somewhere. I didn’t want to seem rude by ignoring her, so I went up to her. Oops, it was a TV presenter!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! How embarrassing. Actually we already know each other via Instagram and she was lovely. She asked me about the local mountain and whether it was possible to run up it. I offered to show her the way. So today was the day I showed Lowri Morgan, the only finisher at the 6633 Ultra Marathon in 2011 (she did the full course of 350 miles and it was freezing, being Canada’s Yukon in March), up the mountain that looms over my home town in Pembrokeshire. Yikes, she is so fit and I am even more unfit than I thought. I almost vomitted and we weren’t even going fast. I sent her ahead, suggesting she do hill reps, whilst I proceeded at my own pace. It was still a blast and we had a great chat, especially on the flattish top and the long steep downhill back to town. The mountain may only be small, a mere hill to some, but it is wild, rugged, exposed, rough underfoot and steep in places. Plus as Lowri says, 10 times up that thing, would be the equivalent to doing the OCC. Well I won’t be doing ten hill reps up there, but it certainly makes for a great training ground. Meeting and running with Lowri has been a great motivator. She really is amazing, very inspirational and super friendly too. A brilliant way to wrap up my extended Christmas and New Year stay in Pembrokeshire. It’s time to get back to London. 2 February 2019 63
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the others for the rowing bit. Glad to say by then I was feeling a lot better. B wasn’t that happy in the boat, a tad apprenhensive when up front on the way to the pub. On the return journey she made herself really useful, choosing to sit behind me and in so doing, providing me with a backrest!
It’s snowed… Not unusal to many, but here in London, still a novelty. Went hiking on Box Hill with a mountaineer, Gemma Smith. She’s going to write about climbing Mont Blanc for the magazine (March 2019 issue). Gemma’s training for the Himalayas, so we were both happy to tackle Box Hill from all sorts of different directions. Makes hill repeats a lot more fun.
Later, after coffee and food with some of the others, we ran along the river. As I’m training more, I really do need to start watching my food intake better. I was starving by the time I got home. Lesson learned. All in all, it was a great day out. The trees in bloom along the river, were an added bonus.
23 Febuary 2019 I’m determined to get out there and do more fun stuff, to stop being so serious. So today, I joined a group for a run in Richmond Park followed by a row in an old fashioned heavy wooden rowing boat, to a pub and back. I took B with me. Problem is, by the time I met the others at Richmond station, I was feeling ill. Was it the pollution? My lungs didn’t want to cooperate run wise. So I headed off to a café - drank coffee, read the paper - and met
2 March 2019 Anita and I met up for a hill repeat session on Box Hill. Anita says I’m a hard task master. In 9.9 miles we did 2,753 feet of elevation gain according to Anita’s watch. Perhaps I
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should have warned her in advance, that I’m a big fan of hill training.
what I can, like sightseeing Reykjavik’s architecture and seashore whilst going out for a run, or should I say jog, for I’m still really slow. Swimming in one of their glorious open air pools made for some wonderful cross training, whilst hiking through fresh snow to see the waterfalls and geysers, made for a good foot placement, balance and core workout.
5 March 2019 Today I was interviewed on national radio about Adventure She magazine. I’m in awe that Radio Cymru - the Welsh language radio broadcaster and the radio station I grew up with - approached me for this interview. Me on the radio! Wow, I’m really honoured.
9 April 2020
Thank you Radio Cymru, Aled Hughes, Angharad Jones and everyone involved with the programme. To be on the radio speaking in my native tongue, is truly special to me, something I still can’t believe has happened.
My dog, B, is officially bored. She wants to know how much longer she has to put up with me having a chest infection and laryngitis. It’s been with me almost since I returned from giving a talk on ‘how to deliver a pitch’ at the Sheffield Adventure Film Festival, way back on 24th March.
17 March 2019 I’m in Iceland with one of my oldest friends, Kate. Despite the holiday, training for the OCC can’t stop. So, I’ve been squeezing in
As for training, well that’s a thing of the past. 22 April 2019
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Whoo-hoo, I’m back onto the long runs. I know, possibly a tad fast after that bug of mine. But I’m feeling so good again and my body and mind are gagging to be outside. Plus, it’s gorgeous weather. I’m so grateful I’ve bounced back from the bug.
I caught up with Anita again. Today we did the 16km Surrey Hills Challenge course. I still have the map from when I did one of the races (organised by SLOW, my old orienteering club), some years ago. The trails may not be that hilly or that steep compared to Box Hill, but they make for good footwork and pace training. What’s really pleasing, is I didn’t feel at all tired afterwards!!!!!!!!!!!
I love training with a focus, not just having a goal to work towards, but having intermediate goals too. So, I’m going to do as much of the North Downs Way as I can in training. It’s part of an ancient pilgrim route, albeit now diverted in places. It’s Easter, so today seemed like an appropriate time to start this journey which I’ll do as day stages.
11 May 2019 Today it was time to test myself in a race, the Preseli Beast Bach. The race was 11 miles (according to my watch), with about 600m of ascent and descend and mostly seriously off road. It took me 2 hours 33 minutes. I know, I’m still slow, but I was happy with that.
Today was part one, Farnham to Guildford. What with sightseeing in Farnham, walking to and from the train stations and hike / jogging to Guildford, B and I did just over 29kms.
It was a brilliant event, superbly organised. 27 April 2019 66
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Many thanks to the organiser Carwyn Phillips of Rhedwyr Preseli, plus the caterers, marshals and all the other volunteers, for their hard work in making this event happen. My first time, but I definitely hope to be back. Funniest part of the day, calling out and exchanging greetings with a woman of my age, who I knew as a child, thanks to Sunday school. That’s the joy of racing back home, you never know who you’ll bump into. 19 June 2019 Another long one today, 30km. A friend joined B and I. Along the way we encountered fields full of poppies, that stretched as far as the eyes could see. It was stunning. 29 June 2019 Today was the not so glamorous side of training for an ultra, for a back of the pack person. It was a super-hot day. In the end I couldn't help myself. Despite carrying lots of liquid and snacks, I detoured down a steep sandy hill - that also involved acrobatics so I could avoid the stinging nettles – plus another kilometre next to a stinking hot tarmac road, so I could raid a tiny local shop. Standing in the air-conditioned room for a few minutes, was absolute bliss. Alas the shop was too small for me to linger inside, so I settled down in the only patch of shade outside – the shadow cast by a commercial size giant rubbish bin! Belly full of freshly purchased junk food, I’d have preferred a siesta over returning to the trail. Still the trail won. Mind you, rather than continuing along the North Downs Way to Dorking train station, as I was now feeling a tad sick after all that sun and junk food, I double backed to Guildford train station. 67
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It was so tough out there today. I hope it’s not like that at OCC. Still, who knows what the weather will be like come race day, so I need to be ready for anything. 6 July 2019 I am shattered after doing 28.5kms in 5 hours with 860m of ascent and a bit more of a descent. I think jelly and blancmange otherwise known as my legs - will be in pain tomorrow. How on earth will I manage twice that distance and over 4 times the elevation gain, in just a few weeks? 7 July 2019 Day off training. Watched Wimbledon tennis on i-player. I had my legs up. Moved slightly, felt something in my left knee. 8 July 2019 My left knee is behaving a tad strangely. It’ll be fine, I’m sure. 9 July 2019 Why is my knee still sore? Did I walk around on it too much yesterday? I can’t believe it’s hurting this much. All I was doing was watching TV with my legs up. I wasn’t even training. How can such a miniscule thing as moving slightly when my leg was up, cause whatever it is, that’s going on in my leg? I don’t get it. Ok, I’ll take a few days off, after all, I’m off to the Brecon Beacons this weekend, I don’t want to miss out on that, so best take it easy now. 12 July 2019 Whoppee, it’s long weekend time with Caroline and Noel in the Brecon Beacons. Enroute, I tested my knee with a walk jog up Sugarloaf. I’m really happy with how it behaved.
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Up top it was WINDY. I simply had to pose for a selfie. 15 July 2019 That was a fabulous weekend of training runs and hikes in the Brecon Beacons. It was, all about testing myself on the ascents and descents. I may still be slow, as evidenced by my coming last in a fell run up Fan y Big on Saturday, but not everyone can be fast. Besides, did anyone else stop to take and pose for photos? Saturday’s race was a 16.83km fell race with over 680m of ascent and descent. Yesterday I backed that up with Corn Du, Pen-Y-Fan, Cribyn, down the ridge, up another path to Bwlch y Fan, Fan y Big, round the back, back up to Cribyn, on to Pen Y Fan and Corn Du, down to Storey Arms, and then along the Taff Trail to the hostel where I’m staying. I arrived just in time for dinner with Caroline and Noel (they’d run their hearts out on Saturday, did brilliantly and chose to take it easier yesterday). On the Taff Trail, I kept myself entertained by singing Welsh folk songs out loud. My apologies to any animal or human who suffered ear damage, as a result, of my screeching renditions. Scary thought is, yesterday was still less, than half of what the OCC will involve. Time is getting short. Will I make the start line and the cut offs? I have no idea. But I can only try and for me, that means a recovery day today. After all yesterday was hard –almost 24kms of a hike / jog, with 1579m of ascent and 1554m of descent (different start and finish). As for the knee, it was fine on Saturday, but I did feel an ‘ouch’ yesterday on a particularly steep and tussock covered off trail bit. After that, I stuck to the paths. More worrying is as today progressed, my knee got worse. Tonight, I’m in pain. There’s no way I can drive back to London tomorrow, I won’t be able to use the clutch to change gears, the knee’s that bad. 69
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It’s time to make a bargain with myself. I’ll take it easy until I head off to Switzerland on the 2nd August, for a test run on the OCC course. 5 August 2019 Wow, wow, wow, wow, wow. I, as founder and editor of Adventure She magazine, have been granted press accreditation for UTMB week!!! Not bad for a former tax advisor / lawyer and trainer, who only set up this online magazine 18 or so months ago. Clearly the organisers believe in the magazine's aim of empowering, educating and entertaining predominantly women through sharing stories of adventure.
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I can’t believe it, me and the magazine in the press corps of UTMB week, the biggest trail running festival in the world!!!!!!!!!!!! Thank you UTMB. It really is a day to celebrate, as today I hiked and jogged from Orsières up to ChampexLac, using the OCC trail. Sure it was steep in places, but I was fine and my knee was fine too. I am so happy. 9 August 2019 First World problem. I am shattered, after voluntarily hiking Orsières to Chamonix with a dodgy knee and carrying a 12kg pack. It was 32 degrees centigrade today – ouch but stunning. According to my watch I climbed 3,540m since starting on Monday. It took me 4 days
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excluding the day I only did 3 kms of downhill from the Col de la Forclaz to Trient. I stopped there as it was pouring. The weather was hideous and with all the rain and low cloud, I wouldn’t have seen a thing. On race day I’ll only have 14 hours 30 minutes to do it. Mind you, I won’t be carrying a big pack and I won’t be stopping off at mountain huts and cafes to eat, sleep and drink. I certainly won’t be stopping to make videos or to take a hundred or so photographs, nor will I be detouring to fit in an extra mountain pass or two.
Today I was once again a guest on Aled Hughes’s radio show on Radio Cymru. This time though I was chatting with Ffion Dafis who was standing in for Aled, about how come women are beating guys at ultradistance events such as the Spine race and the bike race across Europe. Hats off to Jasmin Paris and Fiona Kolbinger, not forgetting Katie Wright, who was outright winner at the Backyard ultra in New Zealand. They really are amazing trailblazers for women, both in respect of their work and their adventuring / racing.
Sitting here now in a restaurant in Chamonix, with a full stomach, I may be shattered, but I am also very happy, and so grateful I got to see the mountains at their finest.
24 August 2019 I’m packing for Chamonix. Heading off there to be part of the press pack, and not as a participant in the OCC.
10 August 2019
Have I really accepted that I won’t be racing? I tell others my season is over, but the truth is, I still want to do it. In fact, I’m struggling with not doing the OCC.
Bother, my knee is really troubling me. Walking around Geneva airport is painful and really slow hard work. On landing back in the UK, instead of walking up the stairs at the airport, I found myself standing on the escalator. This is not good. It is so frustrating, so annoying, why? 16 August 2019
I know I need to remember, that no matter how I feel, the injury is there. I must not let the atmosphere in Chamonix get to me. I must not start. I need to allow the OCC to run without me.
I’ve been going to physio and well, it’s time for me to accept that my season is over, the OCC - my ‘A' race for the year - will happen without me, whilst I start on the knee rehab.
It'll be hard, as I thrive on adrenaline. But I have only one body. I need to respect it. A race is only a race. Life is far far far more, than any race, pole or summit, can ever be.
I have pushed it as far as I can, without causing serious long term issues. Life is more important than any race, no matter how big or prestigious the race.
So, I look at my bag. What shall I pack into it and what shall I leave at home? Will I pack for the race, or won’t I? Epilogue
So, here's to the exercise bike at the gym, swimming and strolling, rather than running and pack carrying over mountains, at least for the next few weeks.
Space precludes me from sharing what I did or did not pack. Though I will tell you this. Being part of the press corps in Chamonix during UTMB week was a phenomenal experience. There’s a little bit about it, plus a story from the PTL on the following pages, but for more, you’ll have to wait until the September issue.
20 August 2019 I may not be doing the OCC but there’s still some good things in life.
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What Is UTMB Week? Q&A With Jane Harries
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What’s it like having a press pass?
Where and when is UTMB week?
It was all go go go. I didn’t stop.
UTMB week is the last week in August. Chamonix France is the race hub and a hive of activity. If wanting to be in Chamonix whether to run or for some other reason during this week, book your accommodation way in advance.
To get a real feel for the magnitude of UTMB week, meant I needed to get out there and talk with as many athletes, supporters, locals, race organisers, journalists, and bloggers, as I could. I even got chatting with the CEO of a film company. At times I was so shattered and my head was spinning so much, I didn’t even remember meeting some people who subsequently got in touch with me!
What’s the atmosphere like?
Mind you, some of those catch ups were in some fabulous coffee shops and yes, I consumed a lot of coffees, plus a few cakes, pastries and ice cream.
It’s a giant cauldron of fit people. Lots of running shops hold events and talks, some even come with a free breakfast.
It wasn’t enough though for me to hang around in Chamonix’s coffee shops. I needed to witness races in progress, to see – on occasion - the pain, suffering and agony of the competitors, other times to witness the joy, happiness and delight, of when they made it to the finish and achieved their goal.
The cafes, bars and restaurant don’t just buzz in the evenings, they buzz all of the time. The only thing I can compare it to, is spectating at the Olympics and the Commonwealth Games, that’s how ‘buzzy’ it is. But it’s better than those events, for here you’re right next to and mingling with the athletes and their family and friends.
Of course, to finish isn’t enough for those gunning for a podium or a win. So, I did see a small number of highly placed athletes who appeared more disappointed and frustrated, rather than joyous.
What races are there? UTMB TDS CCC OCC MCC YCC PTL
There was also the official presentations at a hotel, about the history of the UTMB and its expansion to other continents and places in Europe. Plus there was the presentation of leading contenders in Chamonix’s main ‘square’, though it’s actually a triangle, hence its name Place du Triangle de l'Amitié.
171 km, 10,000m altitude gain 145 km, 9,100m altitude gain 101km, 6,100m altitude gain 56 km, 3500m altitude gain 40 km, 2300m altitude gain Distance aged dependent 290 km 25,000m altitude gain
It was definitely all - go, go, go.
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Did you have a car or if not, how did you travel around? I didn’t have a car. I stayed in Chamonix until the Wednesday afternoon, when I took a bus and two trains to Orsières. That’s where the OCC starts. I’d pre-booked the accommodation ages ago, when I thought I’d be doing the race. The race organisers have buses for the accredited press, so the press can follow the races. In Orsières I joined one of those buses. It was great being driven around, not having to worry about parking or anything else and being there to see the front runners come through. But keeping up with the front runners also meant not seeing the rest of the field. So I only used those buses on the Thursday for the OCC and the Friday evening for the UTMB. On the Saturday and Sunday, I used a combination of public transport and special buses laid on by the race organisers for everyone, and which went to the checkpoints. Having those buses meant support crew didn’t need to use their own cars (though in the OCC, no outside assistance is allowed), minimizing traffic congestion and pollution. I think the race organisers like many others, have become increasingly aware of their impact on the environment and of the importance of minimizing disruption to local communities. Having the buses would certainly have helped in achieving those goals. The one downside of the buses, they were sometimes full and there could be a long wait between them. The race organisers though are really thorough, so if there was a bottleneck anywhere, I’d be surprised if there was a bottleneck in the same place ever again. They are definitely very efficient. Oh and for the record, they haven’t paid me any money and they don’t know I’m writing this, though I might send them a copy.
What was the hardest part? Accepting I couldn’t do the OCC myself. I deliberately left my running clothes and hydration system in London, so I couldn’t accidentally find myself on the start line. Somehow though the atmosphere got to me and I really wanted to do the race. I’d already bought a gorgeous running t-shirt. Then I couldn’t resist a skort I saw. When Camelbak gave me a race vest that fitted me perfectly, I found myself equipped to do the race, for I had my running shoes with me (to walk around in, as they’d be kinder to my knee than high heels would be). You see by this time, my knee was no longer causing me any real pain and I really wanted to run. So I went into a pharmacy to buy strapping for my knee and it was the pharmacist who talked me out of running, emphasising how I don’t get to see the injured runners afterwards, the ones that have pushed way too hard through injury and caused themselves long term damage. Adding her words on top of the speech the physio gave me back in London, finally made me realise I definitely couldn’t run. What’s more, when I woke up the following morning, after all the rushing around of the previous few days, my knee was once again sore and every step I now took hurt. Nabbing my front row spot
It’s a good job I didn’t race for a subsequent MRI showed I’d a torn UTMB meniscus and a for the forthcoming prize giving. Note the hat and sprained medial crucial ligament. long (but cool) sleeves, to shield me from the sun.
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Courtney Dauwalter winner of the women’s UTMB race, stepping on stage o receive her prize
Two time Adventure She contributor Zoe Pye, approaching the finish line of the UTMB race
The volunteers are rightfully much celebrated at the UTMB
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Adventure Running – The PTL By Gitte Sveigaard Photography by Team TejnIF
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About the PTL and us
After 5 days, 18 hours and 40 minutes, with an elevation gain and loss of over 25,000 metres in the mountains and 290km covered, we crossed the finish line in Chamonix in the middle of the night on Sunday 1st of September 2019. A goal both Philip and I had been looking forward to achieving for days, months and years. Nevertheless, the most important part of the PTL race, the longest race at UTMB week, being 290km in 2019, isn’t crossing the finish line; it’s the real and amazing adventure which takes place between the start and finish lines.
PTL is a part of the UTMB week, and this year was the 11th anniversary of the PTL race. Every single year the PTL has a new route, new places, new mountains and paths to explore. It takes place around the impressing Mont Blanc massive. The PTL track is an un-marked route only tracked by GPS and maps. This means all teams hold a GPS tracker, which the PTL headquarters can use to follow the teams, for control and security reasons. During the race there is possibilities to sleep, eat and supplies in the Refuges enroute. The total time allowed is 6 days, 8 hours and 30 minutes. Our Team, TejnIF, is made up of Kim, Philip and me – Gitte.
The Start Monday 26th August we’re in Chamonix for the morning start. With our bags packed full of equipment for the mountains, including helmets, survival shelters and crampons – equipment that is crucial for the success and safety in the remote mountains - we were heading on an expedition.
It’s the path, the whole journey, the adventure, the goal. It’s so much more than crossing the finish line! This was emphasized during the race briefing by the race director, who encouraged us runners to remember to enjoy the race, the adventure, and the many impressions we would have during the experience that lay ahead of us.
The atmosphere at the start is very special amongst us runners, it’s magnified more by the signature music of UTMB week, the “Conquest of Paradise”. I can sense the mixed feelings of honor, humility and gratefulness on the breath of every runner. We set off by running through the streets of Chamonix, to the support of the early birds, family and friends cheering us on our way. At times in the days ahead of us it will be impossible to run, but like the other teams, we run this first section, for its 10kms to the first climb.
In my race report I will do my best to catch at bit of this unforgettable adventure...
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line, there is no more shade for us the pale Danish team.
Shortly after I contact the PTL headquarters and they give us permission for our decision.
During the persistent and hard climbs throughout the day we are hit by bad luck. Unfortunately, our team leader, the grand old man Kim, starts feeling uncomfortable. He’s suffering from way too high a heart rate and increasing dizziness.
We repack the mandatory equipment into our now two backpacks, we kiss goodbye and with teeth bit tight together and eyes focused on the uphill trail ahead, Philip and I continue.
We decrease speed, have long breaks with plenty of cola, water and food, but even with these good investments, Kim is in a bad way. It’s in doubt if it is safe for Kim to continue throughout the night into the mountains.
The day turns into night. We enjoy the lights of all the other runners in the dark. Our mood is good. The ascent is technical accent, a mix of loose minor rocks and huge rocks. We reach the steep mountain slopes, where chains are fastened for hand railing and the mountaineering begins for real.
The first night
In the end the decision is taken, Kim will draw from the race, and let the team continue.
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As we enter the first hut “Mottes”, in the very early hours, we grab a fast meal and sleep for a few hours on benches in the restaurant, as all the bunks in the hut are fully occupied. At the hut we meet one of the many volunteers, a really sweet old lady, totally white haired, who with her hospitality, friendly and empathetic attitude, has the character of a PTL-muse for me. (Every time we met her at the huts during the race, the reunion was lit up by warm smiles and joy, and a salute” See you in Chamonix”).
In the early morning we leave all paths behind us. We traverse the mountain on wet, slippery grass, then climb. It’s like we are climbing up into the sky. We’re on loose slate; it slips under our feet, challenging us with one step down for every two steps up. The team ahead yells “ROCKS” every time rocks break loose and accelerate towards and then on through us. It took us more than an hour to complete this “game” of miss the rocks… At the top we’re met with a new game, a game of courage, for what lies ahead spices up the experience. It’s a ridge – of course still made of loose slate rocks - and with quite an ‘airy passage’ dropping off on both sides. Here we call on and find our courage. We step onto the ridge and stride forward into the abyss. On the other side, we both rejoice and are relieved, it’s that ‘good we made it feeling’!
In the dark night we zig zag upwards to the Col de Soigné. Our way is marked with stone piles. The environment here is harsh and the slope is covered by stones. Our trail spirit is brilliant, as we see the first daylight, the rising sun. A wonderful Japanese team breaks the silence of the mountains with music sounding from their loudspeaker – out there in the middle of nowhere…!
Ahead of us is Morgex, 86km from Chamonix, we’ve promised ourselves a break there and lasagna. We just need to get down to it. We run mile after mile on a long descent, with
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Night 2 – Wet clothes
humid, warm, before thunder, air and lots of small villages by the river. In Morgex we see our drop bags for the first time. In them are the supplies we packed into them prior to the race, food, fresh socks…, all we need and wished for.
For me it is a long walk. I’m not feeling okay and “my engine” complains about the continuous struggle 24/7. Philip does the work of navigating us “…we grab a fast meal and safely across another sleep for a few hours on Kim our lost team mountain pass and member and coach is benches in the restaurant, as all our headlamps do also there. We enjoy their job on the the bunks in the hut are fully his company, his descent, helping us occupied.” advice and everlasting find the route marked mantras about by stone piles. But efficiency in the huts the piles of stone are and economic pace on not easily visible, and the trails. One hour later we aim for the we have to search for them. mountains. It’s our second evening and night out. Last night had been dry. Tonight, as we Spotting lights from the next hut is such a reach the forest thunderclaps and raindrops welcoming feeling. We hang our wet clothes hit. and shoes for drying, while we rest and have
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a long sleep - 3½ hours – as we deserve it and are not pushed by the time barriers / cut offs.
to wear our harnesses and to rope up for a while. Our path has been marked carefully. It’s an exciting and exacting task, one that requires all our attention. Finally, after about 3km we reach the moraine. It’s like a stone desert. We navigate slowly forward. It takes us hours. I see all kind of stones and in all sizes.
The sleep does its job. We’re refreshed as we start out in the dark for the next peak, Mt. Fallere. We reach the top just at sunrise for a stunning view. Mt. Fallere makes a good impression on me, a raw amazing and honest mountain, technical and challenging to pass.
Day 3 – Imodium v Diarrhea
Reaching a simple trail, we celebrate with high fives and “Yeah”, for that moraine made for a demanding passage and extremely difficult navigation. We’re both so happy to be off it.
Downhill again, and again through rain, rain that might release a giant rock fall. (We later learned rocks the size of a van size rolled – luckily for everyone in the PTL, it was far away on another mountainside, but it is a reminder to all of us, how small we are out there in the nature).
Through a small river, over a fence, following a cow path, leading the Filipino team in right direction, and all together we make it to our first hut in Switzerland, our third country on this journey which started in France and has already taken us into Italy. The usual procedure: shoes off, food, self-briefing on the next stage, packing the backpack, and sleep.
It’s day three now and I have a battle, me and Imodium v diarrhea - a battle Imodium finally won after 24 hours. More pleasantly, at one of the huts the PTL’s race director greets us. He praises our team for the ever-smiling approach (and truly speaking we did smile a lot in this adventure), our greetings and smiles, our local Danish trail spirit, our good trail relationships. It gives us lots of good karma, it is simple universal non-verbal bonding and it works!
Our routine is fixed, no wasting of time, no disorders, everything is set as we would like it to be. We are halfway, with 154km behind us, mentally we are “just” heading home to Chamonix now, it is an extremely nice feeling, and we are ready to proceed to Fully (206km from Chamonix) today.
Day three ends at the highest point in the race, the 3,200 metre Col de By.
Day 4 – Teamwork
Night 3 – Roping up
The day starts with an easy walk – but turns into a hot day. My teammate is low on energy and mood on this, day 4. The good news is we are really good at complementing each other, when one is down the other one automatically takes over with an optimistic approach and a caring attitude.
Next, we must proceed over the glacier du Mont Durand in the dark. There’s a team from the Philippines playing Christmas music – the scene was completed, with the wishing of a “merry Christmas”! For the glacier passage we put on our crampons. We test the ice with Bambi like steps. Happy we pick up our speed and shortly after, we are running down the glacier, surprised at the easiness. But then it becomes so technical with severe risk of deep cracks, the mountain guides instruct us
In the afternoon we rest and have a meal at a hut by the most turquoise and beautiful mountain lake.
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Night 4 - The descent
Day 5 – Raw, natural beauty
We proceed, high on soft drinks and ready for a night with only 1396m climb, but a brutal 3166m of decent. We know this descent will be hard, for the Tete des Etablons is marked as a difficult descent on the map.
The descent keeps going. We do the first 1000m downhill in the proper way – but from then on, the last 1400m becomes a nightmare for the knees, feet and legs – the mountain literally eats our legs… In Fully we meet the Filipino team again. All three of them sit in a water fountain to cool down their burning legs and feet. We continue to the checkpoint and to our drop bag, a shower, beds and food. The rest of 3 hours does miracles to the legs. I’d doubts about our legs the night before; would they still work after that descent? Now after the rest, they are more than ready to proceed.
A few meters into the descent, in dense fog and the dark, we realize this is a crazy steep and unfriendly descent, with a very difficult track, and dramatic drop offs on each side of the ridge. We meet a French team. We don’t understand a word the other team says, and they don’t understand us. But we work together and find a way to guide and help each other on this hard descend. It’s even harder because the fog now so dense, the only thing we can see is our own feet.
With the new supplies packed we head off on an ascent of 2488m to Grand Chavalard. It’s slow and continuously uphill, but almost uplifting, as it isn’t downhill.
Later, once into the forest, the fog clears off and humid warm tropic air takes over.
The Grand Charvalard is beautiful mountain. A beautiful mountain is for me a raw, natural mountain, preferably in a harsh environment
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and hard to reach, with limited marked trails. We’re blessed with sunny weather and an adrenalin kick, as the PTL mountain guides have placed special ropes for us on a technical climbing part, which made the route possible and in respect of safety reasons, doable.
keep close together, concentrating on each step, our eyes, feet and hands doing an extraordinary job. It’s a fantastic experience to be on the mountain in this way. It’s very slow pace wise, but we felt enormous lucky – brave like action heroes – and woundable as kids. Our team is from the pancake flat country of Denmark, yet here we are surrounded by the mountains, with nature and its naked rocks and stones stretching in front for us, for as far as we can see. It is an absolutely favourite spot to be – so calm and so wild!
“We don’t understand a word the other team says and they don’t understand us. But we work together and find a way to guide and help each other on this hard descend”
At the small valley hut of Cabane Fenestral we take a short efficient rest, then it’s back on the trails again. Morcles is ahead of us, with more rock climbing in same degree as the Chavaland, or even a step further, and an absolutely special descent through a steep narrow ravine. The navigation is demanding and there’s a high risk of danger from rock falls.
It’s absolutely the hardest and most technical terrain we’ve encountered in the race. We
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For safety, we have to coordinate the descent with the two other teams in the vicinity.
as we can, literally we are flying, our helmets dangling behind us as big raindrops hit the trail ahead.
There’s narrow airy passages here too, that we have to pass through. Some are so narrow; we have to take our backpacks off. It all takes time, and no one wants to be here, for rocks really do fall around us and then accelerate down the slope.
Later as we keep descending the 1900m towards the town of Collonges in a valley deep down below, we slow the pace to save our legs and knees. Due to the very technical and slow passage earlier that day, we haven’t met our intended daily distance. We don’t sleep in Collonges. Instead, we set off up a vertical ascent – no zig-zag – just right up the mountain side, a challenge that makes our speed drop to nearly zero km/hrs.
We have to be careful. This is not just adventure, this could be dangerous, and we feel it, in this place that seems so distant from the rest of the world.
Night 5 – Thunderstorm
We keep going throughout the night – only with a half hour powernap in the forest. We talk all night whilst we walk, to keep ourselves awake…
As day becomes evening, the sky dramatically darkens and the clap of thunder rings through the mountains. We speed up our pace to get down from the heights as fast
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Day 6 – Last day
the atmosphere of a big race. Then ahead of us, the lights of Chamonix.
In the morning 274 km done, we come to Cabane Salanfe. There’s beds there. We jump into them, only to be woken up by a new arrival that snores so loudly, even earplugs don’t work. In the sunny forenoon we meet several runners – all of us excited to get the last part of the race done – for it’s just 43km more to the finish line in Chamonix.
At this time, nearing 3am, the streets are usually empty and silent. So, it’s heart touching and overwhelming to be met by friends who have left their beds to greet us on the finish line just before 3am. There’s another person there breathing in the ambience of a middle of the night finish, for it was right here, right on the spot for great adventures, that I meet Jane the founder of Adventure She magazine.
But talking does not do the job. We jump back to reality and plan our last stage. We still have four more peaks with another 3000m of climbing.
The next day I join the crowds and hang out in the streets of Chamonix. I enjoy the atmosphere and celebrate the honor to be a finisher in this spectacular race. The PTL ceremony where all the runners and volunteers meet, hug and greet each other to the sounds of the traditional finishers cow-bell ringing constantly is particularly special.
Equipped with our usual bought lunch - a simple sandwich and a coke – stuffed into the pockets of our backpacks, we hit the trail. The day goes slowly. We’re excited about getting back, we can’t wait, but we still need to concentrate and work. Our mood goes up and down throughout the day, where laughs and making fun is sometimes challenged with silence and short messages. I know we are now over- sensitive, and with feelings as the outer layer…We are touched though by the cheering from people we come across.
Reflections Looking back, I am so grateful I could be a part of the 290km PTL. Doing the PTL was really a one of a kind experience. To be a part of such an event and to be a part of the scenery, that was special!
Then, on our very last snow passage we it, an ibex. It’s wonderful.
For the statistics: I had the honor to be first Danish woman to finish PTL, and overall, for Danish finishers, we were no. 6 and 7.
After that we hook up with a Finnish team and slowly proceed towards the Chamonix valley and the end. But there is still another obstacle to come, as in the valley we meet a section of trail where we have to climb ladders. Even this late in the PTL, we are still being challenged mentally and physically. The ladders make our hearts beat faster as we climb up them. We don’t want to fall now.
Night 6 – The finish Finally, it’s the last descent. We are no longer alone, all around us there’s headlamps from runners in the UTMB race. As they pass us, they cheer us on. After days alone in the distant mountains, this is a great way to do the last hard descent, for we too get to enjoy 90
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About Gitte Sveigaard Gitte Sveigaard is mid 40’s trail runner and the mother of two teenage sons, who live with her half of the time, at their home by the sea on what she describes as a “tiny” Danish island. Gitte describes herself as an “outdoor girl” who likes all activities such as trail running, sea kayaking, open sea swimming, hiking, mountain biking, outdoor CrossFit, yoga, climbing and camping. Being outside in nature is her favourite thing and is sure to make her “shine and smile!!” She loves to explore and is always eager for a new adventure - even the local micro adventures in her “backyard", which she fits in to a busy week after work. Like many of our writers this time around, Gitte doesn’t’ t really do social media.
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What A Woman Award Beth Pascall You’ve probably realised by now, that when we choose our quarterly ‘What A Woman’ we want more than an ordinary
adventurer, we look for a woman who’s on a mission. Whether that mission is a physical one, or a
self-improvement / development mission, doesn’t matter to us. What does matter, is she has a passion about what she’s doing and why she’s doing it. Enter Beth Pascall, a doctor, who specialises in paediatric medicine. She’s also a sponsored elite ultra-runner. How Beth manages to combine the pressures of working in a hospital with training for and racing at an elite level, is beyond our imagination. After all, many of those at the pointy end of the field in
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Pre-race presentation of the pre-race favourites
events like the UTMB, run for their living. Contrast that with Beth, because for her living, Beth treats and saves the lives of children.
amidst full time runners. A story had circulated that Beth Pascal wouldn’t be there, but she was.
The day prior to the UTMB, the race’s ten leading contenders (I understand based on ranking points), were presented to a packed crowd in Chamonix’s Place Triangle de l’Amitié.
Presentation over, I (Jane’s Adventure She magazine’s editor) followed the press pack to the interview session. Who would I land amongst my interviewees? Well how lucky was I, for amongst them, I got to chat with Beth.
Armed with my press pass, I was in the front row, the stage right in front of me. Beth was called up onto the stage
The reason for the ‘story’ that she wouldn’t be there, was she’d been up at 3 to 4 am, cheering on a friend who was finishing
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the 145 kms, 9100 elevation gain TDS. The TDS may not have the cache of the UTMB’s name, but it is a serious race, going from Courmayeur in Italy, via Bourg Saint Maurice, to Chamonix. Rather than gushing about herself, Beth was talking about her friend. Her friend wasn’t a podium placer or contender, but had still done really well. Beth’s thinking, it’s more impressive to be 36th than to win. You may wonder why would she say that?
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Her theory is the people at the back suffer more than the front runners, for the front runners have the support of the crowds, and external stuff too (we’re guessing here she might have been eluding to sponsorship deals and ranking points) to keep them going. Back of the packers though, they have to rely on their own personal will (and of course in some races like UTMB, TDS and CCC, though not OCC, support crew). Beth figured she owed it to her friend to be there, for her friend had ben there for her in the past, and she wanted to repay
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the support her friend had previously show to her. When you think about it, that’s huge. For here was Beth, a top contender for the UTMB (she was 4th in 2018), up at 3 to 4 in the morning on the Thursday, before the race’s 6pm start on the Friday. I asked Beth about sleep and tiredness. Turns out, she gets more tired from working a 13hour shift, than she does from a 5hour run. As for lack of sleep, she’s suffered more from that at work, than when competing in ultras.
This and facing page – Vallorcine on the Saturday afternoon
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So how did she feel about the UTMB, after all she’d been 4th in Western States 100 mile race in June? (If you haven’t heard, the Western States is in California and is the world’s oldest 100 mile race. It started off as a race between riders on horseback, then one year, a rider whose horse was injured before the event, chose to run it himself). “Excited more than nervous” came back the reply. She figures ultralong races suit her, for she has an endurance mindset and believes her
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endurance personality really matters in long events. She gives an example, sharing how, when much younger, she cycled 100 miles to her grandparents’ house. Why choose the UTMB? Her answer came quick and fast “the competition. Yes, it’s a nice course, but other courses are nice too”. She also emphasises how the support of the crowd also makes UTMB special. I understand, for the atmosphere here is truly phenomenal. So how does she combine training with her work? Turns out her role
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(as at August 2019) is 60% of full time job, though when you include all the extra work she does including reading at home, it still means a 40 hour week. As for her training, she’s never really added up all the hours. When and how she trains, comes down to her shift patterns as a doctor. So, you might be thinking, why award a 4th placer from Western States and a 5th placer from the 2019 UTMB, why not award the first placed woman? The other women are amazing too, in fact I briefly chatted with the winner - Courtney
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Dauwalter - on our way into the interviews, and she was great. It’s that doctor thing that sets Beth apart, for she shows how we can combine a career and adventures. Yes, it might take negotiation with employers, but in some ways isn’t everything in life a negotiation? Besides, good negotiation skills are a trait worth lauding, for so much in life comes down to negotiation. On top of that, when the Covid-19 crisis broke in the UK, Beth returned from a planned work break (taken so she could focus on her running) to work as a doctor.
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Post-race celebrations – the top 10 women
So, with Covid-19 rampaging around so much of the world right now, what better recipient of our June 2020 What A Woman Award, than a medical professional who’s also a world class running adventurer? (I know, Rory Bosio is a nurse and she came 8th in the race, but I didn’t get to meet and talk with Rory, so sorry Rory, but Beth gets it, I think you’re super amazing too). Now you might be thinking, but is Beth really an adventurer? Doesn’t she ‘just’ run trails?
Absolutely not, for together with Damian Hall, she also holds the fastest known time for the Cape Wrath Trail - 230 miles / 368 km from Fort William to Cape Wrath in the extreme NW of Scotland. The route involved bogs, river crossing, moors, mountains, and the occasional pub! Their record, 4 days, 9 hours 43 minutes, knocked 3 days (bars 12 seconds) off the previous best time! Oh, and they did it in December! Beth definitely qualifies as an adventurer.
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So, to Beth and to all the people who’ve been working on the front line during this crisis and without whom, life would have been so much harder, a big huge thank you from Adventure She
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Adventure She Magazine’s June 2020 What A Woman Award
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Hiking In The Outer Hebrides By Isobel Oakley
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NE ridge of Mula Mac Sgiathan
Time is the one commodity we cannot replace. For once time has gone, it is gone forever. So what to do if we don’t have the time to pursue our gaols? The answer is, we either abandon our goals, or we make the time. Isobel (Isi) Oakley, is a summer and winter mountain leader. Her services are in demand, particularly when others want to travel into the mountains. So for Isi to follow her desire to do a particular multiday hike on the Isle of Lewis and Harris, that meant hiking it in the often damp, dark, dreary November. What would Isi encounter?
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etting off from the Abhainn Dearg distillery, in Uig on the Isle of Lewis, was not an easy thing to do last week. We were embarking on a four-day journey through the hills to Harris and the weather forecast was a bit mixed to say the least. Rain was promised and with threatening clouds overhead, leaving the warm bus and donning our heavy packs was not the light-hearted and
expectant beginning I had hoped for. This trip had been on my personal hit list for a long while and a little bit of Hebridean weather was not about to put us off our objective before we had begun. It did however mean, we needed to be sensible about our route choice. So instead of starting our hike with an ascent of Mealaisbhal (the highest peak on Lewis), we walked along the track that ploughs its way between the rocky and wild hills of Uig.
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The hills here are not big, but they are clever, with everything the high mountains of the mainland offer but in a smaller package. Whilst we walked, my mind drifted to sunny days spent exploring on the ridge tops. Then passing underneath the lovely grade 2 scramble up the north-east ridge of Mulla mac Sgiathain, I remembered the rather exciting time I went up it in the rain, wearing my studded fell running shoes.
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As we trekked further along, pausing for a late lunch before the rain began, we spotted caves and gullies to explore on another day. These hillsides are a myriad of complex rock and moraine-like humps, and there is plenty of scope for adventure. But today the hillsides were also full of small burns (creeks) that aren’t usually a feature, even at this wettest time of the
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year. Clearly there had been a lot of rain. My mind strayed to the river crossings that I knew lay ahead, and I wondered if given the current conditions and the forecast rain, our crossings would be thwarted by an unexpected torrential flow? The promised rain came down, blown into our faces by the 40+ mph
Ceann Loch Reasort from Beinisbha
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winds that are so often a feature of the weather in the Hebrides, with nothing to slow them down on their route here from the wild Atlantic. No need for any expensive exfoliating face products when an icy downpour can achieve the same end! The rain continued all the way from the highpoint of the track, to the estate buildings at Tamnabhaigh.
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Sron Uladail from Ceann Loch Reasort
There at Tamnabhaigh we had a brief discussion about whether this whole undertaking was worth it given the conditions, but we pressed on anyway. We camped just after the footbridge that has been installed to cross the abhainn (river) here. This bridge was slippy in the rain, and has no handrails so care was needed, although we were pleased to find it well maintained and solid under our feet. Tent up and hot food inside us, we got a good night of sleep despite the best efforts of the wind.
There was a dusting of fresh snow on the ground, and suddenly this journey was exciting again. We set off to cross the hilly moorland, our objective being to reach
The Tamnabhaigh Track
Morning dawned cold and clear, and the wind had dropped considerably.
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Ceann Loch Reasort that evening to camp. I had camped there once before, and knew we would find some dry ground, and building that
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we could pitch near to for some shelter. This second day was a joy, with light winds, sunshine, and lots of exploring to be had, as there are the ruins of coastal shielings to explore and small summits to pick a way between.
We were intrigued about what the walking along the north shore of Loch Reasort would be like, since the contours are
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packed tight on the map in places. There are lots of deer and sheep trods in this area, but we certainly had to keep an eye on the map at first, to ensure we picked out a good route past the many small lochs and burns. Once we spied the shores of Loch Reasort the navigation was easy though, and we could enjoy ourselves. It was possible to follow the shore for a while, and then when the slopes got too steep, we headed
Bogha Glas Track
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up and over the small summit of Benisbhal. There we managed to find a little mobile reception (there is very little on this route other than at the highest points) and got a weather forecast. It was a good job we did, as the outlook for the following day had changed considerably, with 55mph winds and rain now showing as coming in overnight and throughout the whole of day three. That, we
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thought, might make life interesting! We pitched our tent in what would become the lee side of one of the buildings at the end of the loch and had a very civilised outdoor dinner. Enjoying the early evening rays of sun, it was hard to believe the weather was going to change so much overnight. The views over to the Harris hills from here are stunning, and the evening sunlight was picking out the looming steep face of SronUlladail- site of some of the hardest and most remote rock climbing in the country. The higher hills had a dusting of snow, lending them the feel of much larger peaks. We spotted an eagle circling overhead, clearly making the most of the good conditions too. Reluctantly, we went to bed as the sun set, knowing that these views would likely be the last we saw of the peaks for a day or so. As expected, the wind got up overnight and was pretty brutal the following morning as we made porridge in the porch, putting off the
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Romantic Feel v Real History The Isle of Lewis and Isle of Harris is a name that conjures up romantic images of peace, quiet and tranquillity. The land is also synonymous with tough times. Weather wise, that’s because of its position, with a latitude about a degree below that of the southernmost point of Greenland. To the west of the Isle of Lewis and Harris, there’s no land until the far north of Canada’s Newfoundland and Labrador, only the cold, rough, treacherous North Atlantic Ocean and Labrador Sea. But the island’s tough times isn’t limited to just the weather, for like much of the Highlands and Islands of Scotland, the locals were subjugated by new landlords. One of the reasons why so many Scottish people emigrated to Canada and the United States, is because they could no longer survive, in their homeland, due to the policy of their landlords. In many instances entire villages were decimated, by the actions of the landlords, who didn’t just own a few houses, but huge tracts of land and everything upon it. We know, this might sound political and Adventure She magazine doesn’t do politics. Adventure She magazine does however do history. So, if you should travel to the Highlands and Islands of Scotland, please do read up on the highland clearances. For there is much we can learn from history, if only we studied it properly, from all angles, and not just from the position of the ‘victor’. As Sir Walter Scott wrote in Tales of a Grandfather: “In too many instances the Highlands have been drained, not of their superfluity of population, but of the whole mass of the inhabitants, dispossessed by an unrelenting avarice, which will be one day found to have been as short-sighted as it is selfish and unjust.”
inevitable need to go out into it. These things are seldom as bad as they sound when inside a tent however, and when we
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emerged, we discovered that the wind was strong but manageable, and crucially would be at our back for most of the day.
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The rain was light enough to be tolerable too and having had fairly grim expectations this seemed very positive. We set off to tackle the biggest river crossing and what looked on paper like the wettest moorland of the trip, anticipating detours and added rough miles ahead to make them possible. Surprisingly, the Abhainn a’ ChlàirBhig was easily dispatched without detour, and we were able to cross the peat to the south of it too, allowing us to make better headway than expected towards Loch Bhoisimid. There are some excellent beehive dwellings in the coire above the Abhainn we had crossed, and we considered a visit. Given the weather we decided we would stay low down as long as possible instead, as the wind was assisting our passage with some force! Stopping for lunch in a small fishing hut, we
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considered our options. We hoped to finish our route with a traverse of the Cliseam horseshoe, arguably the best hill day in the North Harris hills. That wasn’t a viable option today, but perhaps would be the following one. So, we decided to camp near the end of Loch Langabhat and see what the morning brought. The path that traverses to the north of Stulabhal is a pleasure, and understandably popular with both walkers and mountain bike enthusiasts. The wind finally began to drop a little, although the rain did its best to compensate, and we found a dry spot to pitch our tent on an island in the Abhainn Langadail. Day four was a bit of a disappointment to wake to - pouring rain, although the winds had dropped now so it fell straight down rather than sideways… we headed to Bealach na h-Uamha in the hope that it might ease. My mind turned to
the last time I traversed the horseshoe- on a rare sunny day in November, moving fast and light and enjoying the mild exposure and runnable terrain in places. Today was nothing like that! At the bealach, with heavy hearts, we decided to take our water-logged packs and continue down the track to BoghaGlas, and a bus back to Stornoway. Sitting by the fire with a dram that evening, I was not disappointed with our decision to opt out of the final ascent. We had completed a traverse from one island to another (sort of!), in very challenging weather. I had enjoyed almost all of it, and the high sections would be there another day for a rematch. Mission accomplished, and perhaps even a second dram earned…!
Loch Reasort
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Q & A with Isobel Oakley Given the remoteness, what’s the best way of getting to the Isle of Lewis and Harris? The Western Isles are a long way from anywhere, but fairly straightforward to travel to, especially in the summertime when the weather is calmer and the ferries more reliable. Trains will take you as far as Inverness, then bus to Ullapool and a mini cruise across to Stornoway on the Calmac ferry service. Booking on the bus to Ullapool, or on the ferry if taking a vehicle across is definitely advised, even at quieter times of year. It is also possible to travel to Harris on the ferry from Skye, but this is best done by car as public transport is trickier to match up, although not impossible if you have plenty of time to play with. Flying is also an option, with twice-daily services direct to Inverness and Glasgow operated by Loganair.
What’s the best way to hike the route you did from Uig to Tarbert?
The best way to complete this linear route is to take the W4 bus to Uig from Stornoway to start and return from Harris to Stornoway on the W10. If you decide to finish on the road to Huisinis, the W12 will take you back to the main road or to Tarbert. Bus timetables are available here: https://www.cnesiar.gov.uk/roads-traveland-parking/publictransport/bus-services/ It’s worth noting that bus services don’t operate on a Sunday on the islands!
Why, given the weather forecast, did you still choose to go? If you only go out when the weather is good here, you never go out! for a longer exped, it’s always hard to find times when you can make it fit. My summer months are usually filled with outdoor instructing and walking tour guiding, so I was always going to need to do this in the off season and hope for the best!
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How do you protect your sleeping bag from the rain? I keep it in an exped dry bag, and if the forecast is wet, make sure my sleeping mat is full length and a good width so not so much contact with base of tent.
Is it a down / synthetic bag? Down, although it could do with a refill these days after some 15 years of abuse!
How do you keep the inside of your tent dry? By being very, very careful. It won’t stay completely dry, but if you can pitch in a dry spell and pack away in a dry spell you’ll be winning. If the tent goes away wet, pitching it and leaving it for a bit before getting in that evening also helps. Inevitably though, things get wet. The important thing to keep dry is a set of sleeping clothes and your sleeping bag. And to be honest, even those will
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An Cliseam (Clisham) horseshoe on a brighter and less windy occasion! We planned to do this on day 4 but didn’t manage to. It’s a brilliant day out for experienced hill walkers. Usually takes 6-8 hours and is pathless for the most part, and rough in places, but spectacular. I guide groups on this a couple of times each year, it’s a popular objective for visitors.
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dry out with body heat overnight!
How do you stay warm in the November Scottish rain and wind, especially when cooking? I cook in my tent porch quite a bit. It’s Ok if you have a stove that isn’t too high up and unbalanced, and you are careful. Temperature is something I have struggled with overnight, so getting a good quality sleeping bag was key for me. Windproof layers are important in the Hebrides - softshell, or dense fleece are good. Whenever I stop moving the first thing I do is layer up and get a hat on. Keeping heat in is most of the battle. I’m a fan of synthetic belay jacket style things, I have an OMM one. And a ridiculously big bobble hat- again, a windproof one! Waterproofs I keep lightweight, and make sure they are easy to take on and off. They dry quicker than thick ones, and the weather can blow in and out quickly here, leaving you wanting to adjust layers a lot.
Any tips on cooking in the Scottish rain and cold?
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Cook in your tent - but practice this first! Make sure you’re totally happy that your stove won’t melt the top of your porch / get tipped over on rough ground/ get the door of the tent blown into it by the wind/ etc. If you have to cook outside in poor weather, do all the prep in your tent, so stove is assembled, food out, etc, and go out just to cook, then back in to eat. If the forecast looks better in the morning / at lunchtime, consider switching meals around as it may be nice to cook a hot meal at lunchtime and stay dry and eat sandwiches later! If you don’t have to wash your pans, don’t! If it’s the last day, or you could do it in the morning in better weather, just give them a quick wipe and do it later.
On a scale of 1 to 10, with 10 being the hardest, how tough is this hike? That’s a tricky one! The ground is rough, so if you’re not used to being off path, probably as much as 8 or 9. But the distances aren’t too big if you split it over a few days like we did.
Any tips for a first-time overnight hiker who's in
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the Scottish Islands for a week's holiday, only to find the weather is atrocious? Look at a localised forecast, xc weather or similar, to find when the weather is likely to have nicer breaks and stay aware of looking out for these. Use them to your advantage! Stop and rest / eat during them, try and time your tent pitching well. And go anyway, but plan a route that you can get out of early if you decide it is too rough- make sure you have headtorch batteries enough for an evening walk out if you get a soaking! But camping in wild weather, if you take care with yourself and your kit, can be a really rewarding experience, so it is worth persevering with and getting the hang of it. Oh, and plenty dry socks!!
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Sron Scourst from near Loch Bhoisimid
WARNING Whilst Isobel discusses using a stove in the porch of a tent, please be very aware this can be dangerous. People have died as a result of using their cooker in a tent, some after a fire, some by carbon monoxide poisoning. It is worth highlighting here that Isobel is not just highly experienced, she’s a qualified summer and mountain leader and a rock climbing instructor. She also as the proper kit and knows how to use it. Whether your adventures are hiking or cycling or kayaking or something totally different, always be aware of where you are going, the conditions, the weather forecast and whether you have the ability and fortitude to deal with them. Whilst Isobel was fine in the conditions she encountered on this trip; many others would not have been ok. So please, adventure within your ability and within your limitations. Remember there are a multitude of ways to extend your capabilities including doing courses and trips with qualified leaders, whether as part of a course, or a holiday or something else. We know warnings like this are boring, but better safe than sorry.
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showers on An Cliseam Adventure She magazine, Issue 10, June 2020
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About Isobel (Isi) Oakley Isobel Oakley is a qualified summer and winter mountain leader. She’s also a rock climbing instructor and a trainee mountain MCI trainee. If you would like to do a trip with Isobel, you can contact her through her social media accounts, listed below, or through Hidden Hebrides who have a page of that name on social media. Bear in mind due to Coronavirus, access to island might be restricted to visitors, including possibly a local only policy on the ferry. So definitely ascertain the latest information, before booking and before travelling. Facebook:
Isi Oakley
Twitter:
@IsiOakley
Instagram:
galopin82
Snow showers on An Cliseam
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Hiking In Patagonia’s Torres Del Paine By Eleanor Hughes
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Eleanor Hughes, a 55 year old travel writer from New Zealand, journeyed around Central and South America for several months. As part of her trip, Eleanor undertook a 34 day group overland journey from Buenos Aires in Argentina, to Santiago in Chile. Here she regales her story of hiking the spectacular 4 day ‘W Walk’ in Chile’s 238,298 hectare, National Park Torres Del Paine, as part of that overland trip. Grab a cup of tea or coffee, sit back in a comfy chair, turn off your social media and enjoy, for we think Eleanor is a fantastic storyteller. Patagonia. I’d seen the images - glaciers, rock towers, picturesque lakes of the W-Walk in Chile’s 238,298-hectare, National Park Torres Del Paine. Trekking for four days, between 5 and 10 hours a day over what sounded like harsh landscape, would be a challenge. Even though I was relatively fit, I hadn’t trekked more than a day at a time for around 40 years! But what better way to see Patagonia’s beauty than on the 80-ish kilometre W-shaped trail, in what 5 million VirtualTourist.com voters named the eighth wonder of the world. Should’ve done more research. Gale-force winds had been battering us. Now on day ten at the end of a long, cold, travel day and amidst rain and incessant wind, we finally arrive at our basic
campsite. I want to stay on the truck and out of the elements… I don’t think I’m the only one given nobody is moving very fast. But sadly, tents need pitching. My tent-mate, Barb, and I pin down our two-man tent with rocks, to keep the wind from taking it away. Hands frozen, my nose dripping, I belt / whack in tent pegs. Keeping the tent poles upright is tricky, as we clutch them with one hand, while trying to get the spikes on top of each through the eyelets of the billowing fly sheet with the other. It’s a team effort as we all help each other. Good old Spaghetti Bolognaise is on the menu, with supplies having been shopped for in the small town of Puerto Natales enroute. I’m on cook team for dinner. We cook under a roofed, open shelter on
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gas burners in pots built for a crowd. Dinner is finally ready around 9p.m. Under another covered, open shelter with the rain whipping those on the edges, we huddle together as we eat. Still I shake from the cold. Today is the low point of five months travelling. A hot shower thaws me slightly, the thought of brain freeze once I get back outside stopping me from washing my hair. A half-hour drive from camp the next morning brings us to where a catamaran ferries passengers across Torres del Paine National Park’s Pehoé Lake. Despite being forty minutes early for the 9a.m. catamaran to Paine Grande, there’s a queue of hikers stretching perhaps seventy-five metres along the open dirt path leading to the jetty. Legs braced, layers on, jacket hoods pulled
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tight, we wait. A chain goes up across the gangway as we finally reach its entrance. The boat is loaded with its maximum of 90 people. We’ll have to wait for the next one. The belting, howling wind, attacks us, as we huddle for another hour, until finally at 10.15a.m., our 30 minute voyage is under way. The boat rises and falls on rough, turquoise waters surrounded by rolling green hills and intermittently jutting mountains. Hardy
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passengers lurch and stagger out onto the deck to view the scenery, I though enjoy the sheltered interior. At least there’s a lodge at Paine Grande Campsite. Sadly, my package to hike the W-Walk doesn’t include a room in a dormitory within it, but at least we can retreat into its four walls for our provided meals. My accommodation is a jerkily dancing dome tent, set up to the side of the lodge. Leaving most of my gear inside it, I fight to get my daypack on over
Trail from the campsite at Paine Grande Lodge to Grey Lookout
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my many layers and by 11.45a.m., my twenty travelling companions and I set out with our guides on the first leg of the W-Walk. Dust swirls as we battle a headwind across a flattish valley before heading uphill through an apocalyptic scene. Tree trunks and branches stand stark, bleached white and splotched with black, victims of a tourist burning toilet paper back in 2011 which engulfed 176km². Brownish-green tussock-like grass, a few pink-flowered shrubs and
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bushes with small, dark red Calafate berries, add the only colour. The sweet berries are delicious. According to Carlos, our guide, those who eat one will be certain to return to Patagonia… for me, it definitely won’t be in the windy season. Blown backwards, sideways and shoved along, it’s pleasant to stop on a sheltered part of the track in stillness to eat lunch. Provided in a brown paper bag, it’s like opening a present -salad roll, apple, muesli bar –
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and the best bit the chocolate! We make it to Grey Lookout. In the distance is Grey Glacier. Between us, Grey Lake or Lago Grey. We marvel at the blue chunks of ice, some the size of a small car, previously part of the glacier and now floating on Grey Lake’s bluishgrey, choppy surface. It’s taken us longer than expected to get here three hours to hike 6 kilometres. There’s still
another five kilometres to walk to the mirador (viewpoint) near the foot of the glacier. Time is against us. Carlos insists only the fittest go on or nobody will make it to dinner, served at 8p.m. Eleven turn back. Carlos sets a fast pace. I run at times to keep up, discarding layers as we go. On rocky ridgelines with glimpses of Grey Glacier, I could do with an anchor as the wind blasts. I worry I may be
Note the trees being hammered hard by the wind
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Lago Grey and the Grey Glacier
blown over onto the rocky ground. Thankfully, there are no steep slopes to tumble down. I make it to the mirador. There, wings spread wide, a condor glides above as I stare in wonder at Grey Glacier, apparently six kilometres wide and 30 metres high, part of the 13,000 year old Southern Ice field. Powdery-blue with ice cliffs, brown vein-like lines run across its surface. Ice-blue, small iceberg-sized chunks of ice float in the below bay surrounded by a
multitude of smaller pieces, like smashed china. On the return journey we spread out, Carlos staying with the slower, younger ones. We oldies, aged 55 and 63, are much fitter! I walk back much of the way on my own as my group of ten spreads out, our levels of fitness differing. Scarily, I’m blown over twice onto rocks and feel lucky that the only injury sustained is a hole in my leggings and a bruised knee.
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I ponder crawling at times so there’s less of me for the wind to hit, at times I’m shoved so strongly by it that my feet barely touch the ground. A boot camp trainer I had used to say, ‘where the mind goes the body will follow’. That wind, it’s the same for everyone. Now’s is the time for a positive mental attitude and a sense of humour. As people pass, we laugh at each other’s struggles. When nobody is around, I break into ‘I’m flying in the air…’ but I may have
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Lago Grey and the Grey Glacier
the words wrong to that song… I’m concerned I’ve gone wrong somewhere when I walk nearby a lakeside, not remembering being so close to it. There is only one trail, I can’t go wrong. But it’s not until I spy Paine Grande Lodge, far in the distance, that I stop worrying. I keep up my pace, one eye on my watch to make sure I’m back in time for dinner. Seven hours after leaving, twenty-two kilometres covered, I
reach Paine Grande with about half an hour to spare. The dining room queue is long, and it takes a while to get in. With a buffet on offer – chicken casserole, hot vegetables, soups and bread, I doubt even latecomers would have gone hungry. I pile my plate, and wearily sink down onto a bench-type seat at a long table with the rest of my group who have all made it back. Despite the din, in the cavernous, tile-floored room, of around 100
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diners dressed in brandnamed active wear or good old trustworthy woollies and fleeces, it’s serene to be inside four solid walls. The view through floor to ceiling windows, as the setting sun enhances the white granite stripe across 2,000-odd metre Cuernos del Paine which tower over us, is spectacular. Still daylight at 10p.m., I’m loathe to go back outside and envy those who get to stay in warm, carpeted dorms.
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View from Britanico Lookout day 2
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Paine Grande camping with view of Cuernos del Paine
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I sleep little, huddled in my sleeping bag listening as the wind howls across the valley and lashes at the tent, which billows and slaps. Morning dawns slightly calmer, the wind having dropped from around 60kph to a forecasted 37kph, according to information at the lodge. And the temperature is supposedly getting up to a balmy 13°C. We set off for our around 7.5 kilometre, about a 3 hour walk, to Italiano Ranger Station, on what Carlos calls Patagonia flat – it undulates.
Frances Valley Trail
By the time we arrive my shoulders ache, even though my backpack probably weighs less than 10kg. I happily dump much of it, but take my lunch, water and a few layers for next part of the hike.
Looking down Frances Valley from Frances Valley trail on way to Britanico Lookout day 3
It’s a short hike up to Francés Glacier. There the slower ones, who are happy with what they’ve seen, turn around. The rest of us keep going, on to Britannico Lookout, a further 5.4 kilometres up Francés Valley. Carlos sets another cracking pace. At a high-point, I view the milky-blue Nordernskjöld Lake contained between low-lying greenish-brown rolling land, with Pehoé
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The towers of Máscara, Hoja and Espada 3
Lake peeping beyond. Valleys splashed with snow on higher ranges backdrop it all. It’s stunning. Then gunshotlike sounds ring out as we trek one side of Francés Valley. The sound isn’t guns, it’s cracking ice. Francés Glacier sits along a ridge top on the opposite side of the Francés Valley. It’s a hanging glacier, with not much ice that I can see. What there is though, is incredibly thick. We scramble up, around,
over rocks and boulders. I occasionally spot snow drifting up, apparently the result of avalanches. There’s also some waterfalls courtesy of melting ice. Ever onwards. Grey and white granite towers with tinges of rust; 2,300 metre Máscara (mask), 2,300 metre Hoja (leaf) and 2500 metre Espada (sword), rise ahead, like deadly cresting waves. Head down and leaning into the wind, like trying to walk against the force of someone pushing against
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you - if only I could have switched the wind off - I reach the calm and shelter of the trees, about a hundred metres away. An hour and a half after leaving Italiano Ranger Station, I reach Británico Lookout, at 970 metres. The views are worth my throbbing feet. It’s a 360° theatre. I lie, feet raised, looking out at a green valley nestled below, granite spires zigzagging and plateauing across the skyline. Indian Head,
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Shark Fin, Fortress and Cathedral tower at around 2,000 to 2,500 metres. That night, the lodge and camping area are camouflaged in bush. We arrive around 7p.m., 24 kilometres covered. The basic lodge, with its wooden floors and openbeamed ceilings, is much smaller than the Paine Grande, apparently only having four dormitories that sleep eight to a room.
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Our dome tents await us, pre-erected on thigh-high wooden platforms, sheltered in a maze of Calafate shrubs. The toilet and shower block, found after wandering narrow dirt paths for around a hundred metres between the shoulderhigh shrubs, looks new and the hot shower is bliss, even though it took energy that I barely had to walk there. In the packed dining room, seating perhaps forty, I enjoy soup, beef stew and crème caramel. We’re certainly well fed.
View from Britanico Lookout day 2
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I sit for a while in the bar where windows look out over forever greenery that gradually disappears into the night. I don’t drink. I don’t want to have to wander dark trails in the middle of the night trying to find the toilets. I discard clothes in the warm, still night, sweating much of it… maybe its menopause. My 1cmthick, foam sleeping mat isn’t particularly soft and from sleeping on my side, I wake with an aching outer thigh.
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Day three’s trekking starts at 10a.m., destination Las Torres Camping zone, 11.6 kilometres away. My shoulders ache. Not long into the walk multi-day tramps -that would require lugging a large pack, tent and food supplies - have been mentally removed from my bucket list. Staying as one group, this time at a slow pace we trek mainly uphill. The views are spectacular, despite the grey clouds, with green hills reflecting in the still waters of Nodenskjöld Lake.
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View from Frances Valley trail returning to Italiano Ranger Station day 2
Nordernskjold Lake
The trail becomes ‘Patagonia flat’, heading away from running parallel above the lake and following the base of Almitante Nieto Mountain. We cross swing bridges and rickety wooden bridges with a two-person limit. White-water rushes below. I fill my drink bottle at a cold stream which tumbles down between white, grey and brown boulders. Carlos assures us the water is pure and requires no purification tablets or filters.
Nordernskjold Lake
Arriving at Torres Norte Camping Zone at 4p.m., it’s luxury to be able to sit and relax in warmish, still conditions outside our
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On trail to Torres Norte camping zone, day 3
tents… although there’s washing to do. Done in a bathroom hand basin, the ingrained dust in my clothes leaves the water dark brown, the second wash, slightly lighter, the third… it’s still light brown. I can’t be bothered doing a fourth or perhaps a needed fifth wash. It begins to spit rain. It’s amazing how much washing you can hang inside a small, twoman dome tent including two occupants! Again, dinner is provided, this time in a huge dome tent that looks like a
monster igloo. It’s been wonderful to have meals cooked for us, I’m not sure I’d have the energy to prepare my own, my body weary and aching. Drizzle sets in the next morning, low cloud obliterating the orangeybrown jagged spires of Torres del Paine. It’s disappointing. The spires are the highlight of the Wwalk… but maybe by the time we get to Base de las Torres lookout where they will be much closer, cloud might have cleared.
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My feet ache before I start, laced back into hiking shoes on their last legs. We leave several people behind, those that have been the slower hikers, who are happy to relax in camp. They’ve had enough of trekking. I wonder why I have to challenge myself and do it all? In wet weather gear, thermals and gloves, we backtrack on the path trekked yesterday for about a kilometre, passing by Las Torres Hotel where cars dot the car park and then take a
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sometimes rock, sometimes dirt, uphill trail. Stopping occasionally, I turn to take in the views behind, peeks of bluehued waters, khaki hills rolling and jutting like a rough sea. During the second hour the sky clears, then it clouds over, then it rains. The cycle repeats. Clothes come off and go on. Two hours after starting we reach Chileno Lodge, another lodge and camping spot. It’s raining again. My layers are
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back on, I breathe out frost. When Carlos declares it’s unlikely, we’ll see Torres del Paine, several decide not to continue. But having walked so far, I decide to carry on – if only to say, ‘I did it’. An undulating dirt track through a beech forest protects me from the rain and the wind. Again, the rain gear comes off. Then it’s back out into the open for the final hour. Up steep scree amongst whitish grey boulders, my head down much of the way as rain blasts into my
face and I can barely see. Thankfully orange posts mark the way, as there’s no evident path. I round a bend, climb a few steps... A brilliant blue lake peeks between boulders, the three orange and bluish Torres Del Paine majestically standing beyond and best of all, momentarily free of cloud cover. Wow! Just, wow! I’ve made it to Base de las Torres lookout. Reaching the lake edge, I brace myself and take the obligatory photo. Wind howls, sleet whips
Returning on scree from Base de las Torres lookout
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Base de las Torres lookout
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around. There are perhaps 100 others here, indistinguishable in wet weather gear. In twos and threes, my group arrive. We gather, huddling in the shelter of a large rock and eat a cold, quinoa salad lunch. Hot soup would be good. Anything you’d like to share about yourself in the “About Eleanor” section. Could put -I'm a New Zealander who wrote children's fiction, then took up travel writing to justify my long overlanding travels through South and Central America. A relaxing holiday is not for me, I enjoy discovering, new adventures and a few challenges along the way. After maybe half an hour, everyone has arrived. I’m frozen and ready to start the return. The rain stops after about three-quarters of an hour and the trail becomes more enjoyable. The younger girls walking with us oldies are impressed at our fitness. They aspire to be like us when they reach our age! At Chileno Lodge I shed wet weather gear and again enjoy glimpses of Torres del Paine and the sun’s warmth. Fifteen minutes later clouds roll over. The youngsters stay for hot chocolate and
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pizza, the oldies press on. We pass bereted gauchos riding horses loaded with coke, beer and other supplies for the lodge – the hiking trail the only way into it. I enjoy the distant lake views that now lies before me. Body weary, dragging aching feet, I reach my red and grey dome tent basking in the sun, at 4.30p.m., with relief. W walk done. Later I reflect on the experience. I remember the tough parts. I hate the cold… and it was so cold! The wind was incessant too. The weather had my skin dry up and both my hands are lips chaffed. But despite the weather and the pack, I still managed to do the W walk, not just a part of it, but the entire walk. The scenery which I had to work for to see, had me gobsmacked with its beauty and the might of nature. Getting away from civilisation has been good to. It all brings a great sense of satisfaction. Perhaps I will after all do another multi-day walk carrying a full pack.
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About Eleanor Hughes Eleanor Hughes is a New Zealander who wrote children's fiction, then took up travel writing to justify my long overlanding travels through South and Central America. A relaxing holiday is not for her. She enjoys discovering, new adventures and a few challenges along the way. Eleanor doesn’t really do social media, so if you would like to get in touch with her, send us a message via our website,
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Paddle Boarding Bristol To London By Penny Mitchell Photographs by Marcus Sampieri
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the tow-path." Even that response did not add to my overall sense of dignity.
“There’s nothing left to explore, there’s no world firsts left” moan some.
Late in the evening by now, the sun was casting its long light towards me, compelling me onwards to our campsite at Teddington Lock.
Not true.
It was day 8 by now. We had paddled all the way from Bristol, along the Kennet and Avon Canal, before joining the River Thames at Reading. From there we headed towards London. Our final intended destination being Putney Bridge.
Yes, much of the world has been explored and yes many world firsts have been achieved. But there’s still a few out there. Penny Mitchell wasn’t even seeking one, when she got herself a first!
I hadn't realised when I signed up, that it was any kind of endurance challenge. I’d pictured a summer’s holiday floating along winding channels of clear water, sipping beer, laughing and chatting, before setting up camp beside the river in the evening light. It was only once I had high-fived Will, Marcus and Neil, whilst celebrating joining the expedition, I actually thought to ask “how long” it was. 165 miles. In 9 days.
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y bare feet were not faring well. The fluid in my legs had pooled around my ankles from 14 hours a day of standing up on my paddleboard. My toenails were thick with grime and a fair amount of goose poo - acquired when clambering out to portage around another lock.
Originally there were six in our group, three women and three men. Unfortunately, the two other women had to drop out, leaving me as the only woman. We divided the planning into different areas of route mapping, provisions, marketing and fundraising and filming. I took the food planning on as a task, bulk ordering dried rations. Turned out we didn’t need much of it, as we mostly ate protein balls and pub meals and ended up unnecessarily hauling several kilos of dehydrated packs. If you ever do use dehydrated meals, read the instructions. At the start of the trip, I’d been keen to keep up my protein intake so one morning opened up a packet of dried farmer’s omelette. But after adding too much water to it, I ended up drinking luke-warm globules of powdery egg! Not recommended.
The tops of my feet had been etched by an allergic reaction to a scratchy plant that had spiked up around our tents one night. My fingers weren’t much better. I had tried to cover the worst of the cracked tips with tape, but a few minutes in these conditions and the white tape was mucky and useless. In all honesty, personal hygiene had gone out of the window - even trees were in short supply on some stretches of canal. I’d had to find a B&B at one point and plea to use their facilities. Their response: "We're just delighted you didn't do it on
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As for the paddle boarding, we hadn’t had much experience of paddle-boarding at all - I had only been three times previously. On my longest training day, two months previously, I had paddled for 11 miles and was aching badly for three days afterwards.
We soon picked up a rhythm though, paddling from dawn to the late dusk of British summer evenings. There was little formalised plan in terms of where we slept – we were lucky, as in some places, canal-side pubs let us camp in their grounds.
The average we needed to paddle each day on this trip was 17 miles. I knew I ought to do more training. The problem was, the more I realised I needed to train, the more my brain went into selfpreservation mode and refused. In the end, I told myself that on the paddle itself, I'd be training in the morning for the afternoon of paddling! Probably not ideal for marathon-length days on the water, not to mention portaging 40kg around the 116 locks along the route. As for the kit, I didn’t even know how to fit my fin onto my board, which is rather embarrassingly caught on video camera.
The morning after one of those nights led to one of my most embarrassing incidents, as I got stuck in the portacabin shower block within a pub’s grounds, when the door locked behind me. The men were
“I hadn't realised when I signed up, that it was any kind of endurance challenge.” already waiting with their boards on the canal, completely out of earshot. I had no means of getting out and had to balance precariously on two sides of a plastic bin with my head leaning out sideways from a small high window, whilst shouting for help.
Our first day was fun though and good for soothing the nerves. After a great send-off from various friends on the quayside, we stopped about 100 metres from our wobbly start, at a harbour side café for a bacon sandwich and coffee! The day continued with a beautiful paddle up the river Avon, with people on the bank or on pleasure boats offering us cups of tea and beer along the way.
I don’t know if you have ever had to shout “help”, but if you try it, you might find it is very embarrassing. I tried different tones of the word, but the only answer I got was from a sheep in the next field. Eventually Marcus realised I’d been gone too long.
We stopped for a long and welcome pub lunch of a Wild Boar burger! Will and I even spent some time swimming in the river (which later haunted us with upset stomachs – for Will this required calling an ambulance one night and his being set up with a saline drip at a pub table).
The Canal & River Trust website says there’s 104 between Bristol and where the Thames meets the Kennet and Avon Canal at Reading and there’s some more locks between there and Putney Bridge in London, our intended end point. So, the sight of the white painted end of a lock gate lever, emerging around a corner, was always met by us with a groan as the process of each portage was tedious and hard work.
When nightfall came on our first day and we were forced to stop, we had only paddled 15 miles. That meant we were already playing catch-up after one day.
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Will: “Ask me a multiplication question. Any”
We had to unload everything, portage around the lock with our 40kg each of kit, and then reload our boards. I couldn’t carry all my stuff around the locks in one go and the guys made no concessions. So that meant for each of the 116 locks, I did two trips. It also meant I got fewer breaks, as by the time I caught up with the men, they were ready to get going again.
Me: “I can’t even think of any questions”. Will: “Penny - think of a film star beginning with B”. Me:
On top of that, at the first lock I fell into the water, when trying to remount my board from a high bank, straight to standing position!
“Will, I can’t think of any film star”.
When days turned to evening, the noises and thoughts of the days changed. We’d hear parties from people enjoying summer evenings on the banks. We’d hear birds roost in trees overhanging the riverbanks. We’d also hear an occasional late evening motor cruiser approaching and then speeding past, their passengers holding beers high in the air and calling out to us, whilst the boat’s wash would push up under the SUPs - stopping our momentum dead in the water.
At least the process got easier, which is good, for at Caen Hill Locks we had to portage 29 locks over 10k. It took us four hours. We then had a further 8k to paddle before setting up camp for the night. Although it's possible to get from Bristol to London by train in a couple of hours, travelling along England's waterways at a speed slower than walking pace meant we had time to appreciate every single detail be it a leaf, bird or wildflower. It also allowed us to chat unhurriedly with those passing along the way.
So back to day 8, where I started this story. The morning of day 8 had us waking up at Windsor. Ahead of us lay a brutal day, a hot day with strong winds. We had to dig deep, using the full force of core, legs and arms, just to maintain a straight course. The pattern of the wind had become frustratingly familiar to us. If, on a given stretch of river, trees covered the banks, we were in for an easier ride. At Windsor Great Park, however, with its wide-open fields, the wind blasted across the river, trying to take us with it, to ram us into the bank.
We had the time to slow down and live, if only for a few days, the life we humans were designed for: continuous exercise, eating only to provide fuel and enjoying the company of friends. We also became masters at dislodging weeds from the back our boards and grew comfortable with walking up and down the boards to take photos and to retrieve snacks or equipment.
The pace we kept up that day was relentless, for we were determined to make it to Teddington lock. Making it to Teddington, would however mean we’d have covered 55 miles in two days. But we were determined to achieve your goal.
In retrospect though, at times we were also exhausted. We’d change paddling positions to relieve pressure on ankles and feet, sometimes sitting, kneeling and even lying down backwards! Occasionally Will and I quizzed each other on how much brain energy we had left.
So, we paddled on, despite the wind and despite the heat.
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I kept up my continual rhythm of paddle in, pull back, paddle in, pull back, swap hands, repeat. The motion was accompanied by the sound of gently splashing water. It had become such an automatic action that in fact, I could have kept it going for so much longer. It was hard to believe that we were approaching the end of the expedition, just one more day to go.
It felt such a great sense of achievement to do the journey, a real sense of pride. Being the first woman to paddle Bristol to Putney Bridge in London on a paddleboard, was a bonus, though it hadn’t been my main motivation, as I'm not actually that motivated by accolades. Taking the train home with all our kit seemed so mundane compared to our journey to London. It certainly helped reinforce how grateful I am, to have the physical health so I could do the journey, and how lucky I am, that I could take the time the time off to, even for a few days, to live a very simple life on the water. .
The following day with my SUP board by now feeling felt like an extension of my feet, as I passed under Putney Bridge, I became the first woman to complete this journey by paddleboard.
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Paddling on waterways With SUPs and sit on top kayaks making padding so accessible, it’s worth noting that different countries have different rules. Please check with the authorities in your country, to ascertain whether you need a license or similar document, to paddle on the water. If padding in the UK, like Penny Mitchell, you will need a waterways license. Penny obtained hers from British Canoeing. Other organisations also issue licenses for waterways they manage, including the Canal & Rivers Trust, the Broads Authority and the Environmental Agency. Please also consider the safety aspect including whether you should us a helmet and / or lifejacket. Also, please consider hygiene. Unfortunately our editor recently saw a lot of discarded toilet paper in woods next to a popular launching point for kayakers and stand up paddlers. It was absolutely disgusting and a health hazard. If you must go, pack out any loo paper you use plus your hard waste, together with any other rubbish. After all, shouldn’t active adventurers including all types of paddlers lead the way by setting an example and that means zero littering.
About Penny Mitchell Penny doesn’t really do social media. So, if you’d like to get in touch, send us a message via our website.
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Adventures On Horseback By Andrea Brookes
Many of us in the Western world ‘want something’ we don’t have. The question is, how do we bring that ‘something’ into our life? In this article London based teacher Andrea Brookes, shares how she manages to bring horses into her life.
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usually teaches teenagers to become the jockeys and stable staff of the future. I had never ridden a racehorse before and was nervously united with my first mount for a ride in the indoor school where our control and balance would be assessed. Luckily all went well and after several trots round, I found out that I had passed and was asked to come back the next day.
There are things in life that we develop a passion for at different stages, as we are introduced to them. Then there are things we seem to be born liking, intuitively. For me that is horses. As a small child I begged my parents to stop the car whenever we drove past a horse in a field, so I could get out and introduce myself.
Some were not so lucky, and their dream ended there. The next day we went out on the gallopsanother level of terrifying after the relative safety of the indoor school! As well as the amazing power of the horses, another new experience was riding with short stirrups, almost perching on top of the horse rather than sitting astride. Reins are held differently too, in what’s called a ‘bridge’ so they can be rested on the horse’s neck. After practising these new techniques on the ‘equiciser’ – a mechanical horse - we set off for the gallops on our retired racehorses.
Despite this, I only started riding lessons at the age of 11 and have never owned my own horse due to work and school commitments. Since then, my riding experiences have been varied. I started with flat and jumping lessons and hacks around the local countryside. I then exercised friends’ horses and worked at a polo yard for a season. It was sometime during the autumn of 2007 that my mum came home with a form in her hand which she had picked up in one of the local shops. It was from the brewing company, John Smith’s, sponsors of the Grand National, saying they were to hold a charity race for amateurs on Grand National day and they were looking for participants to train to take part!
We started gently with a walk and what seemed like endless trotting - very hard on the thighs with short stirrups - before finally moving up to a canter, praying our horses would be kind and not run away with us. Everyone dreaded this happening and I think it happened to most of us at some point during training, but luckily not me, yet…
What an amazing opportunity for a lifelong rider and horse-racing fanatic. They were looking for people who were competent riders but who hadn’t ridden in a race under rules before. The form asked about riding experience and other information. I quickly filled it in and sent it off, not expecting to hear anything else.
We had a few more training days at the College over the next few weeks, a combination of riding, equiciser training and fitness training. You wouldn’t believe how fit you need to be as a jockey; the strength needed in the thighs just to stop yourself falling off and in your arms to control the horse, are phenomenal. Jockeys must be some of the fittest sports people around and all on a diet of a lettuce leaf and glass of water a day!
Amazingly my varied experience; riding lessons, hacks, jumping, working at a polo yard and riding holidays abroad, seemed to be what they were looking for and I was invited as one of thirty to go on an assessment day at the Northern Racing College outside Doncaster, a place which
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At subsequent training days numbers were whittled down until 15 of us were chosen for the next stage- training in a real racing yard for three months. Each of us was paired up with a trainer close to where we lived and my trainer was John Norton, a lovely man who trained in a small yard in a beautiful setting near Barnsley. So, for the next twelve weeks I got up early four or five times a week, to drive to his yard and ride two or three horses on his gallops. I was made to feel very welcome and am still friends with him now. It was a great experience and I learned a lot, with only a few mishaps and falls along the way. After the three months it was judgement day. We returned to the college for a final
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fitness test and were then taken to Southwell Racecourse with a selection of the college’s horses for a riding assessment. This would decide the ten of us that would ride in the race. This was not to be a race, but an opportunity to demonstrate our control and riding technique.
behind another horse, Entertainer, to prevent him going too quickly.
Horses were drawn out of a hat and I was paired with Bodfari Signet or Bod, a chestnut winner of eight races. As we walked round the parade ring, I could feel him begin to get excited, he seemed more agitated than the others, which was a worrying sign.
As everyone else pulled their horses up after one lap, our two were having none of it and it took another lap for us to pull them up. I didn’t feel in danger at any point and it was one of the most exciting things I’ve done, a lot of fun! But it did mean that unfortunately I wasn’t chosen for the race.
It was at that moment that my chance of riding in the race slipped away. Entertainer took off and Bod went with him, much faster than we had been asked to.
We were led out onto the track and asked to complete one lap in a steady canter. Bod was still too keen, so I opted to slot in
At least I’d fulfilled my ambition of riding a racehorse on a real racetrack and we
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were all interviewed by Clare Balding afterwards. I think she felt a bit sorry for me! Plus, as part of the prize I got to go to the Grand National in one of the expensive boxes and watch the lucky ones ride in the race, as well as spending two nights in a very nice hotel, all paid for by John Smith’s. I even made a brief appearance on TV being interviewed and then run away with by Bod!
riding for between 4 and 6 hours a day for 5 or 6 days. I find they’re a great way to combine riding with seeing some of the most beautiful, often inaccessible parts of the world. My favourite of all the trips I’ve done was a week on the edge of the La Brena forest on the Costa de la Luz in Spain. From the selection of well-trained Andalusian and Arabian horses - some calmer others with more spirit - I teamed up with Shukran, a calm, sensible Arabian, who looked after me and did all that I asked of him.
Despite the disappointment of not getting to race in front of a huge crowd on Grand National day, it was still an amazing opportunity, which I would never have experienced, if I hadn’t filled in the form and applied for the competition. I also continued to ride out at John Norton’s yard for years afterwards and look back on it as a true bucket list experience.
Riding was mainly in the forest, a seemingly endless swathe of umbrella pines planted to stabilise the dunes about 100 years ago. It made for excellent riding due to the smooth sandy tracks and wider ‘firebreaks’ which allowed for plentiful cantering and galloping opportunities, particularly the thrilling, undulating rollercoaster gallop we did on the last day.
I work in London now but still ride. Recently, my favourite activity has been participating in riding holidays, usually
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The highlight though were the two days when we rode through the forest down to the beach at Cape Trafalgar for thrilling gallops.
About Andrea Brookes Andrea Brookes is a London based teacher, who makes the most of her holidays, to indulge in her passion of horse riding.
If like me you love everything about riding, but can’t have your own horse, once we’re all allowed to travel again, I really recommend riding holidays as another way of indulging your riding passion. Just be sure to book the right holiday for your level of experience.
Yes, she might not be able to have a horse in London, but she finds a way to make it happen, which is an attitude we love and an attitude we believe is way underrated.
As for me, I may not have ridden in a race, but I’m grateful I had the opportunity to try out for a race.
Every once in a while we have an author who doesn’t really do much social media. So if you need to get in touch with Andrea, instead of contacting her directly, please do send a message to Adventure She magazine instead.
I’m grateful I’ve had the opportunity to indulge my passion for riding with holidays in several countries in Europe. Plus, I’m grateful that on that day in Spain when I galloped right along the water’s edge on that huge beach, there was a professional photographer on hand to take our photographs. Looking back at them I’m reminded of the joy of riding.
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Coming Up In Adventure She Magazine During 2020 Remember, please do send us your stories Applying For An Adventure Scholarship
On The Summit Of Mount Everest
Coronavirus Running The Everest Marathon
Climbing Mount Kenya
Triathlon After An Ileostomy
Exploring Indonesia
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The Grand Canyon - Rim to Rim
Exploring Kakadu National Park Australia’s Kakadu National Park
Tips For Hiking This Winter
New Zealand’s Coast To Coast Race
Cycling In South America
Charity Hiking In The Sahara
Nepal After
Cycling In South America UTMB Week – Part 2 - The Races
Ski Touring The Haute Route
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