The Dragon's Back Race, May 2019
The Dragon’s Back Race,
May 2019
The
legendary Dragon's Back Race follows the mountainous
spine of Wales from North to South, covering 195 miles and having over 50,000
feet of total ascent. It is the toughest 5 day mountain running race in the
world ....
Struggling
along in the dark with a very painful ankle I had just badly twisted, willing
the miles to go by as easily as the dark hedges slipped past into the night
behind me, I wondered how long this injury would take to repair and how it
might affect my immediate running future. This was my challenge, my hill to climb,
me own personal battle. No, not the rugged trackless mountains of Wales but the
pavements of central England. It was late December, five months before my
A-race for 2019, and I had just turned my stupid ankle on flat tarmac.
Fortunately
I am not prone to injuries but this ankle sprain put me out for the best part
of two months, meant I did not start the Fan Dance ultra in the Brecon Beacons
in January or the Arc of Attrition 100 mile coastal run in Cornwall in
February, both great events in themselves but also important preparation for
the Dragon’s Back. I also missed the first of four planned recce weekends on
the Dragon’s Back route itself. Not the best preparation! So I rested sensibly,
began running gradually when I could, and then had three recce weekends with a great
new group of friends in March and April.
These were excellent: not just good
fun but based from interesting hostels and cottages, giving access to remote
parts of the course with a reassuring group, and a good chance to talk
endlessly with like-minded souls about kit, food, running, navigating and the
like. I made little attempt to memorise intricate route details on these trips,
concentrating instead on soaking up the experience of the difficult terrain and
long days on my feet. This would prove invaluable. As I approached the event,
confidence levels were at roughly 50/50 as to whether I thought I could finish.
Never confuse preparation for certainty: I was as ready as I could be, yet
there are so many factors which affect such an undertaking. I would just have to respond as best I could.
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| First look at Conwy Castle (Photo: Tim Walker) |
And so to the race. I borrowed a camper van from
our wonderful best friends Paul and Helen and my brother and sister in law Tim
and Maz were along as chauffeurs and cheerleaders. Vicki my wife had to stay
home recuperating from a foot operation. We drove to the race start in Conwy
North Wales, I registered and attended the compulsory briefing, then headed off
to eat with Tim and Maz, a lovely Chinese meal in what can only be described as
an unusual setting. Our camp for the night was equally so, a pub car park!
However, we were fed, rested and prepared by the morning as we entered Conwy
Castle for the start of the race.
A wonderful arena, rich in the history of bravery and the warrior spirit
(and no doubt dodgier things besides but we’ll ignore those for present
purposes!) and of course very fitting for yours truly, a Knight, before I set
forth on my quest to slay the dragon! A stirring speech from a past winner
about daring greatly, a rousing Welsh male voice choir, a countdown, and we
were off. Along the town walls, out into the fields and soon to our first hill,
Conwy Mountain, the first and probably lowest of our many peaks to come in the
next week as we traversed the whole of Wales to Llandeilo in the South.
402
competitors gathered in the castle keep (photo: Tim Walker)
Day 1, Conwy
to Nant Gwynant: Carnedds, Glyders and Snowdon horseshoe
33 miles,
3,800m (12,467ft) ascent, 12 hours 14 minutes
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Negotiating the Crib Goch ridge,
Pen Y Pass in the distance
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On day one,
everyone left at the same time, 7am, and of course there were the most people
still in the race. This meant we formed a long straggly line across the tracks
and tussocks and even though the weather was cool and visibility average, we
were never in danger of losing touch with fellow competitors or the route. Soon
we were at Foel Fras, the first of the Welsh 3000 peaks route which we would
now roughly follow for most of the day, only missing two of those 15 highest
mountains. Next up were the Carnedds. Most check points on the route
consisted of a box tethered to a cairn which we had to contact with an
electronic connector or ‘dibber’ on our wrist. However major check points had
race volunteers and cut-off times.
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| First sight of Tryfan from Pen Yr Ol WeI |
I reached the first of these at Llyn Ogwen in plenty of time, bright sunshine, and was
pleased to see Tim and Maz to greet me. Apparantly I looked great, but the race
was young! I fed and replenished supplies from my drop bag and headed up the
seemingly endless steep track to Tryfan summit. I’ve been up this mountain a
few times but usually with plenty of time, banter, stopping and recovery, but
today I kept on going and it was knackering! Off the top, we headed on
technical rocky ground to the Glyders and another strength sapping climb, rocky
traverse and tricky descent to Pen y Pass, a second cut-off check point, where
I met Tim and Maz again for welcome encouragement, before the beginning of the
Snowdon horseshoe.
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| That's the way! (photo: Tim Walker |
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Crib Goch with Snowdon behind
(photo: Carmine de Grandis)
|
The route then dropped down to complete the
horseshoe and then an outlying peak before doubling back for the long way down
to the camp at Nant Gwynant (sadly no time to stop at the wonderful café
there!). Tim and Maz were staying at a nearby camp site and had walked along to
see me finish which was so good of them. Day 1 done in 12 hours something, I
felt really chuffed with that and set about settling in my tent for the week,
sorting my admin, eating and looking after my feet before bed. My tent for the
week contained friends Mark Z, Mark K, Phil, Keri and Lisa (whom I didn’t
know). Lisa unfortunately did not finish Day 1, so we were a tent of five.
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Llyn Llydaw from Snowdon (photo:
Carmine de Grandis)
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Day 2, Nant Gwynant to Dolgellau: Moelwyns and Rhinogs
36
miles, 3,600m (11,811ft ascent), 13 hours 35 minutes
Cumulative 69 miles, 7,400m (24,278ft) ascent, 25 hours 49 minutes
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| On Cnicht summit |
Day 2 dawned and by 5am I was up and packing. Although organised from
the night before, it was not until around 630am I was ready to leave camp
although my aim was 6am, the breakfast queue was just too long and those who
know me will understand I was not going to miss breakfast!
Day 2 is generally seen by the event’s completers as even harder than
day 1, whether that’s because it really is or because you have day 1 in your
legs already I don’t know, but it didn’t bode well! The day’s mountain groups
were principally the Moelwyns and the Rhinnogs but we began with a yomp up
Cnicht. By the top I was quite hot but the skies, views and scenery were
glorious, so I was having an amazing time.
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| The Moelwyns (photo: Giles Thurston) |
We descended down very steep scree and grass to a reservoir before
heading across to climb the mighty Moelwyns. These are not at all so visited as
the better known hills of Snowdonia but in spite of the less trodden tracks I
did not find the terrain too bad. I had recced these in snow with Phil and
Amanda so I only vaguely recognised the landscapes. From Moelwyn Bach we
dropped down to the Ffestiniog narrow gauge railway and after running parallel
with this we came to a road at Maentwrog where I’d arranged to see Tim and Maz
who were whooping and positive as ever and were enjoying clapping everyone
through and not just me.
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Descending to day 2 support
point (photo: Giles Thurston)
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Having seen them at around the 10 mile point I now left them for a very
remote stretch of the route and wouldn’t see them until the end some 26 miles
further. Some lowland farm areas followed before we skirted the edge of Llyn
Trawsfynydd and covered some pleasant country, then some tussocky heathery
nonsense, and came to the day’s main check point at Llyn Cwm Bychan, I was
thankfully well ahead of the cut-off time so I could relax to have my lunch and
a change of shoes as my feet hurt.
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The lovely runnable Rhinogs!
(photo: Giles Thurston)
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Leaving the check point, we walked up the Roman Steps and eventually
climbed the unrunnable Rhinnogs. These are really gnarly areas with unforgiving
steep tracks covered in heather and lurking rocks. The going was slow and very
tiring and the descent from Rhinnog Fawr to the valley was horrible, over
unstable rocks and mature twiggy heather. We were on the organisers’
recommended route but there must be a better line surely! Next time
maybe.
There was then the last climb of the day, the not insignificant out and
back to Diffys and then a scrambly descent to a forest where the trail grew
larger and then came to a road which took us down to Dolgellau and the day’s
camp. Tim and Maz were camping on the same site as us but for once they were
not around when I came in even though I trotted right past their campervan,
they had chosen that moment to go for a short walk! However once I had changed
I saw them and spent some time chatting and catching up while I queued for a
shower which was to be my only shower for the whole week - shtinky!
The race was taking its toll, with over 40 quitting, being timed out or
being otherwise unable to continue on each of the first two days. Amongst these
were in my tent Mark K, Keri, and Phil who broke his thumb on rocks in the
Rhinnogs, patched it up and finished the day, but spent so long in the medical
tent and hospital that night he couldn’t do the full course the next day.
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The enormous moving camp for the
week (photo: Tim Walker)
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Day 3, Dolgellau to Ceredigion: Cadair Idris and Pumlumon Fawr
44 miles,
3,500m (11,482ft) ascent, 14 hours 36 minutes
Cumulative 113 miles, 10,900m (35,760ft) ascent, 40 hours 25 minutes
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Another day dawns (photo: Giles
Thurston)
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Day 3: I awoke before my alarm sounded, I think because the night had
been very cold, it must have been only around 2°C and I’d worn my hat all night.
I drifted in and out of sleep before getting up, deflating and rolling up my
air mat, stuffing my sleeping bag in its bag, and cramming everything into my
large dry bag, checking I had everything stowed as I needed in my mid-point
drop bag and my hill pack, then heading off to breakfast; the routine had now
become practised and quick. I learned by day 2 that the breakfast queue was for
beans and as I don’t like beans I jumped to the table with cereal, asked for
tea, boiled egg and sausage (veggie, like everything) and headed to a table to
eat quickly. I then washed my things, made a large marmalade sandwich and ate
this on my way back to the tent to fetch my things. One last task; my morning
loo and teeth cleaning, and I was ready to head off. Kit check done, I hiked
out of camp for day 3: Cadair Idris and the first section of the Cambrian
Mountains.
The support point today was at a whopping 28 miles, which felt like the
huge distance it was. I met with Tim Cox soon after leaving camp whilst still
on the lanes approaching Cadair Idris. We paced along together, catching up.
I’d first met Tim when we shared a room before and after the Arc of Attrition
100 mile coastal run in Cornwall and he’s great company. Tim wasn’t running as
well as usual and we soon parted company, as is the way of these encounters on
long events; he didn't complete day 3 but stayed for the week running half
days. I tramped with my trekking poles to spur me, passing an early check point
and eventually summitted Cadair Idris. It was cold and windy, just under zero
with the wind chill, and I pushed on over jagged rocks over the undulating
gradual descent of the next few miles. The weather slowly improved and my body
warmed, so the jacket came off.
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Buzzed by a Hercules (photo:
Giles Thurston)
|
I met Tim and Maz again at a short road crossing, they were so
encouraging and gave me a much needed boost as I then carried on. A heritage
narrow gauge railway crossed once more, we climbed steeply towards the next
high ground of Tarrenhendre. It was sometime along this section that we were
swooped by a Hercules transport plane of a training flight, passing extremely
low overhead. I later learned from Tim and Maz they had spoken to a woman
supporting her husband running the event who was a Hercules pilot from Brize
Norton in Oxfordshire; his friends decided to surprise him by adapting their
training flight to pay him a visit and pass low overhead where they knew he
would be, having found him on the event’s electronic tracking system: how cool!
I was also passed on this section by the swift running of the event’s previous
winner Jim Mann, who soon disappeared up the hill. The slog of a hill passed
slowly, followed by another very steep ascent and descent of the out-and-back
Taren Y Gesail.
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Steep drop from Taren Y Gesail,
Machynlleth
in the distance (photo: Giles
Thurston)
|
We then came to Machynllyth and the support point. I stopped at the
first garage I saw for a coke and sandwich, such a welcome change from my
normal food, and walked along to the clock tower at the centre of town and met
Tim and Maz. It was great to walk along through town with them and out to the support
point. As I had every day, I reached this point well ahead of the cut-off time,
so had the opportunity to slow down and enjoy myself a bit. I fed well and
recovered, taking around 15 minutes more before heading off again. They later
told me they had seen lots of people bumbling along in town slowly with their
shopping and told them to hurry up to the support point just outside town so
they were not cut off!
The afternoon was shorter but no less tiring at around 16 miles. Today
and tomorrow were both over 40 miles in total as well as the inevitable hills.
Oh well, no one ever said this event would be easy!
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Climbing from Machylleth
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There were a lot of forest tracks and I was grateful to be with others
who knew the route as although visibility continued to be excellent there were
tricky route choices and I may well not have taken the right ways if I was on
my own, or else taken considerable time map reading. I caught up on this
section with Dan Milton, another friend I had made on the Arc of Attrition
event when we both stayed with Roger and Bridget. Dan and I are roughly the
same pace, so we trotted along happily together on the approach to Pumlumon
Fawr the last challenge of the day. We decided on different routes on the early
slopes and separated for the day, Dan’s turned out to be the best line but I
chose mine based on most likely dry paths to keep my foot tape intact. We
dropped down to the day 3 camp and a much needed rest, food, and bed. Tim and
Maz met me at the camp with my laptop so I could download the runs I had so far
recorded on my watch that week. Supper was a fantastic lasagne and I had plenty
to fill up before bed. I attended to my feet but managed to be quite efficient
so I was glad to have an extra hour of sleep. Although I had my headphones with
me I didn’t need these to lull me to sleep, I went out like a light.
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My feet by the end of the week,
but serious taping began day 3!
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Day 4, Ceredigion to Rhandirmwyn: Elan Valley and Drygarn Fawr
42 miles,
2,400m (7,874ft) ascent, 14 hours 17 minutes
Cumulative 155 miles, 13,300m (43,634ft) ascent, 54 hours 42 minutes
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Elan Valley (photo: Giles
Thurston)
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And so to Day 4, another long day at 42 miles, with increasingly painful
feet and facing the vast open spaces of the Elan Valley and the second section
of the Cambrian Mountains. Before I started I had to deal with a small drama in
that I had mislaid my compass yesterday and as this is a mandatory piece of kit
I had to sort this out. No one in my tent had a spare, neither did any of the
organisers, so I had to try to find someone who was withdrawing from the event
to borrow theirs. Although I was ready to start at 6:15am this took around 20
annoying minutes to resolve but I did find a wonderful Australian lady who gave
me her compass and did not even want me to post it back to her afterwards as
she’d be back in Australia. Wonderful.
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Lovely woodland trails (photo:
Robin Kinsbergen)
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We began with a section through woodland on forest trails and then
cutting down very steeply amongst the trees, slipping sideways as we followed
each other in a procession. I slipped here, my only injury inducing fall of the
whole event, and grazed my arm, but got straight back up and carried on in our
line of hikers and runners. In these woods I heard cuckoos, which are not so
common back home but do like the peripheral woods between farmland and fell. We
heard many throughout the week.
We emerged from the trees and then ran along dirt access roads through a
large wind farm, weaving beneath the gigantic turbines. There were to be
several miles of this so I ran almost all of it, wanting this more mundane
section to pass quickly. We then had two short road sections separated by a
higher level area of tussocks. It was hard to find a trod through some of this
and when the trods disappeared the tussocks threatened to turn an ankle every
step, especially when tired. My mind went back to the moment in late December
when I’d twisted my right ankle so badly. I carried an ankle strap in my pack
every day in case of just such an accident but amazingly I got through with no
mishap at all.
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Beneath the turbines (photo:
Giles Thurston)
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At the end of the second road section and parched in the heat, I gladly
filled up my bottles at a stream. I thought this was a bit low lying and with
some sheep around so I used my water filter, not wanting to get any nasty,
race-ending bugs. I finished this last section to the support point at Elan,
threading down between rocks on a technical trail. Just before the support
point there was a pub where I stopped for a bacon roll, pint of iced coke and a
loo stop.
I saw Tim and Maz at the support point and had a good catch up. They
were enjoying the brilliant sunshine and it was nice to chat with them for a
while. Again, thankfully, I had plenty of time in hand so I could relax, eat,
check my feet and replenish supplies before carrying on.
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Large cairns at Drygarn Fawr
(photo Giles Thurston)
|
I walked with a New Zealander called Dave on the road out of the
checkpoint but he was going more slowly than I wanted so I pushed on. I
remembered this part from a weekend recce with friends a few months ago; the
weather had been awful: rain, clag, wind and cold; thank goodness it wasn’t
like that today! We climbed gradually toward Drygarn Fawr, the high point of
the day. I could see a large cairn from miles away and it seemed to take an
interminable time to draw near, but at long last it did.
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Approaching Aberdwesyn
Bridge
(photo: Tim Walker)
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I ran on and came to a crossing into a wooded section and then found
myself with a group of runners. We helped each other navigate through the
woods, along the side of a valley, before coming to Abergwesyn Bridge and
another check point, just by some noisy farm dogs I recalled from my recce. The
hillsides in this area were absolutely smothered with bluebells and Tim,
attracted by photo opportunities, had walked up some way and now ran down with
me to Maz. I have never seen such a mass of bluebells, like a purple haze.
I then hiked and ran the closing stage of the day down towards the River
Towy and to Rhandirmwyn Bridge near Llanwrtyd Wells, some three-quarters of the
way down the length of Wales. The last hour or so I ran and walked with Bill, a
friend from my recces, and we were both glad of the company.
I got into camp as usual at around 9pm, tired but very happy to have
achieved another day on this immense foot journey. Having got to my tent,
changed and started back across to the catering tent, I couldn’t believe how
sore my feet were, I could barely walk! How I had been running and hiking
strongly just a short while ago I had no idea. It is amazing how you can just
keep going once your body is used to whatever discomforts there may be. I got
to bed as quickly as I could after eating, to patch, pad, tape and pamper my
feet as best I could. Tape and plasters I had applied days ago were still there
as I had not got wet feet and all the protection was still doing a good job. I
simply added more on top and hoped for the best!
Day 5, Rhandirmwyn to Llandeilo: Camarthenshire and the Black Mountain
40 miles, 2,200m (7,217ft) ascent, 14 hours 12 minutes;
Cumulative 195 miles, 15,500m (50,851ft) ascent, 68 hours 54 minutes
The last day! I had made it this far and I awoke with the daring thought
I may finish this event after all. I was up and ready, breakfasted, packed and
on the way out of camp by 6:30am, roughly the same time as I had left every
morning. I took a good half an hour, maybe more, to get my feet used to the
idea of moving, they were so painful. The patching and padding I had applied
last night was good, including thick moleskin across the balls of my feet, but
I was in difficulty. I knew people failed to finish this event owing to foot
problems and I didn’t want to fall at the last hurdle, so I soldiered on. I
bagged the first hill top check point and dropped down the steep grass to a
farm track.
I found I was able to run a little and so I alternated running and
walking along the tracks and then a lane. I saw Tim and Maz and stopped for
encouragement, they were so good at lifting my spirits particularly at this
stage of the race.
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Usk Reservoir with support point
appearing
(photo: Giles Thurston)
|
I ran quite a bit of the road section into Llandovery where I knew there
was an opportunity for culinary treats. I stopped at a bakery and bought a
pasty and coke, then sat on a pub bench opposite to devour them slowly, they
were heavenly! There then followed a long, long, such a long uphill slog of a
lane which eventually gave way to a track and a drop down to Usk Reservoir and
the support point. Just as I got to the reservoir I saw Simon Franklin and
Carol Morgan (2017 winner) which was a lovely surprise and I stopped to talk to
them. Carol was giving the trophies to completers in the evening so I said I
hoped to see her then! I trotted into the check point in high spirits to see
Tim and Maz, refill with supplies, eat lunch, and rest. Most of the week I had
been eating packets of steak and veg which were easy and very tasty to eat, with
a fruit pot for pud, and today was the same, stoking me up for the second half
of the day.
I left, with time in hand and feeling great, yet in a good deal of
discomfort with my feet. Oh well, they’d just have to see me through somehow. I
was now making for the Black Mountain, which is a spectacular escarpment made
up of several peaks rather than just one as the name implies, the first being
Fan Brycheiniog.
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The Black Mountain (photo: Robin
Kinsbergen)
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The last hill top of the journey
(photo: Giles Thurston)
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I trudged my way up in the company of various people, some of whom I’d
run with before during the week. The terrain was starting to pass more slowly
as my pace became more laboured. Partly I did not mind as my timing was still
good, but partly I now badly wanted to reach the end to claim my prize and rest
my feet. My pain was not helped by a long ridge of loose jagged rocks which
jarred my blisters before we descended to a road and the last cut-off check
point of the day and the whole event. It was during this time that we had our
only rain of the whole week, a moderate shower of around an hour, enough to put
on waterproofs but we couldn’t complain given the fabulous weather we’d had
otherwise. At the check point, mercifully we were well ahead of the deadline.
Tim and Maz had hiked up to the last hill top to meet me which was a lovely
surprise and accompanied me down. The next time I saw them would be at the end!
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| Finished at last! (photo: Tim
Walker) |
We were now on the very last fold of the map. I was once again in the
company of my friend Bill as well as a Canadian woman and a Chinese woman on
her third attempt at the event. We encouraged each other over these final few
miles. We came to the final hill, Tair Carn Isaf, took a triumphant photo of
ourselves which later looked disappointing, and headed down to the farmland and
lanes of the very last part of the run into Llandeilo. We passed the impressive
Carreg Cennen Castle, through about a dozen fields with awkward styles and
gates and came to a lane. We worked out we had around a mile and a half to go
and I immediately compared that to routes and distances I knew back home to
give myself some sort of countdown. I began striding along, pacing with the
rhythmic metallic stabbing of my poles on the tarmac. I was so close now and as
I rounded a corner I saw people in hi-viz jackets: marshals! Hallelujah! In
spite of the pain in my feet I ran the final straight over the grass of the
finish, under the banners and registered my wrist dibber for a last time.
I had finished. I was so, so elated. The hardest race I'd ever done, but
a beautiful, memorable journey down the entire length of Wales, and I could
claim my dragon. Tim and Maz, of course, were there for a hug and I called
Vicki straight away who of course was also delighted.
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| Dragon slayers! (photo: Tim Walker) |
There was then a wonderful finishers’ meal, where I feasted and drank a
couple of beers, the first for a week. From 9 o’clock, the presentations began
where all finishers received their dragons. It was also a chance to share the
week’s experience with many friends, both finishers and those who had not
completed this time. At some point around 10:30 I grew tired and we drove off
to our camp site where I soon rolled into bed, one very weary but satisfied
dragon slayer.
Somewhat remarkably, my fatigue levels were not that bad and my legs
felt fine after their ordeal. After just a few days even my feet had recovered.
This was such an immense undertaking I am extremely glad I finished so I don’t
feel the need to return. I have wonderful memories of the event and its
build-up and I am more than happy to leave it at that, support others in
preparing to do the same, and move on to other challenges.
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The dragon sleeps ….
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