A run which will surely go down in the anals as a "thank f... we survived it!" It started off inauspiciously by pissing down with the sort of rain that gets into every orifice, the path down Doctors Gate was a small fast flowing river, no sign of drought on Bleaklow. At some point we turned right into a clough and then proceeded to scale an "Extreme" cliff, which certainly set the bowels moving. Penny has cause to remember this for some time as she froze on the smallest of slippery ledges with nothing but black void above and below (Quote: "I signed up to do fell running not bloody rock climbing!") The next point was a pond, 'nough said and then up the edge of Dowstone Clough with the sound of a raging torrent that would have swept all before it had we attempted to cross it, well below. Some daft chough (Tom Westgate) decided that Bleaklow Head would be a good place to visit and so we did and it wasn't, but amazingly we did find it in the black void. By this time it was agreed by all but Tom that we had had enough fun and so set off in a southerly direction in the freezing cold, black void. It has to be noted that Messrs Westgate and Holmes, after suggesting that we follow their lead in the void, disappeared and abandoned the rest of the party to their fate. The Safety Officer (had he been available) would have been beside himself with rage at this gross neglect and blatant abandonment of standard procedure but most of us were too knackered to care just wanting to get back to the cars in any direction. So after talking Maurice out of going back north again, we set off south and, praise be, found the path. An interesting "run" and one which was quite nice when it ended!
It made a pleasant change to run in the White Peak. No trudging through heather, without trespassing, needing to climb walls, barbed wire or fences. A trip through the Cressbrook Tunnel was added to the Thornbridge race route where the going was soft, the excrement around the farms deep and the views excellent - it was a bit quieter out there than the traditional August date for that route though. Post race beers were taken at the Monsal Head Stable Bar where the Buxton Blonde and Wincle Undertaker Bitter were on fine form Jim
Some 25 or so finely tuned Dark Peak athletes plus a guest from Kendal AC set out on this mild night. The run started with a wade through the upper reaches of the reservoir, followed by a long drag up to Wet Stones, the navigation to which was impeccable! From here we set off in an optimistic frame of mind to find the picnic tables and tin shack which is somewhere in a clough somewhere in the moor. To our amazement, we found it without any bother and consumed whisk(e)y and sundry snack items at the tables, it has to be said that the service was poor, however. From here, we set off to find the Stirling bomber wreck. Now bear in mind that this is on a featureless bit of moor and that we approached it from a featureless bit of moor, so, being honest, the chances of finding a bit of pipe sticking up in the dark featureless moor were slim! And so it proved to be. Search abandoned we set off for Margery Hill trig which was found with the usual accuracy. From here the group split, those that actually fancied a run went down Cut Gate, the walkers went over Cranberry Clough and arrived back much later! Oh and happy birthday to Jim who enjoyed the perfect 58th birthday treat!
A very pleasant run through the snow via the Dukes Road, Fox Stones, Pike Low and the tram-track bridge. Harmony prevailed all night, and the Belgian Blue slipped down nicely in the Nags thereafter. Good to see Mr Harvey (aka "God") in attendance, and young master Beresford for some of the proceedings. A reet good night all round.
Broomhead access gate being a step too far for some of us, we assembled at Hugh's Hut in Stoney Middleton for a run over to Longstone Moor, ably led by Peter Gorvett. An uneventful run apart from the section on the way home when a cow decided to join in. Fortunately a few sharp words sent it on its way. Excellent refreshment in the Moon inn, where we outnumbered the rest of the customers by 3:1.
A mild night and a good turnout. Moz was to be congratulated for designing a course that even he managed to get lost on, as he (and a number of others) failed to find the pond near Friar's Ridge which those that did find it, did so as a pure fluke!! The going was officially described as "moist" to good which meant that we were wading knee deep through a good portion of this "race" The checkpoints for interests sake where:
Ten hardy souls ventured forth from Midhope led by Capt Harmer and Sergeant Hakes, no safety officer was on show here but with Westgate and Winterburn we knew we were in safe hands. The first point of call was the cabin, from there the wet boggy track ventured higher in the the teeth of a biting wind. The plan was a direct line to the Margary hill however having drifted close to cutgate a quick trip out to inspect the UXB discovered by Russ a few weeks earlier. More on the shells will appear in next Christmas's newsletter ;) The group split slightly as one section went straight at MH and the others taking a less direct route by running up Cutgate. The masses gathered on MH before some discussion by the Capt and Private Westgate on the precise bearing to the Stirling wreck, now I'm not certain how important those 5 degrees were but 10-15 minutes later miraculously we were gathered around the wreck site, A few more photos before we chose to find a bit more shelter to have raspberry whirls from Mr Holmes and our first whisky stop. It was here that the Capt decided to cartwheel down a clough to; first the amusement of the troops then to the concern of the group however he was soon up and off again to Pike Low. Another whisky and with every one signed in and Winterburn led off back to the cars with the Barber hounds in hot pursuit. Brigadier Sanderson had counted them out and counted them back. To his pleasure all were present and correct so a trip round the corner to the Wagon and Horses for a few pints of Timmy Taylor's where Hakes open the market stall and started selling the new DP shirts to any one who promised to pay him later.
A two hour forty minute epic, rumour has it, from the Sportsman to the traditional subterranean traverse of Hathersage. No idea who was there, since I'd been diverted at the last minute to attend my fair daughter's A level choices evening. All being well therefore, a fuller account, and perhaps even a track, might follow in due course. Meanwhile, ten Guerrillas were playing about on Bleaklow, visiting a pond and the odd wreck in the vicinity of James's Thorn. A good time had by all, it is alleged.
The pre-champs potter was distinguished first by the high proportion of women taking part - a good third of our number by my estimation - and second by the quite atrocious line to the Knoll taken by editor-in-chief Holmes. Other local landmarks included the Ruby and Head Stones, Ocean View - this time not quite so direct - and the conduit tunnel. Oh, and to further taint his credibility, young David then produced a flask of cooking rum at the whisky stop. The pressures of publishing to a strict deadline are clearly taking a heavy toll ...
A moderate gathering with even Jim Fulton (whom, more of later) and the Safety Officer, not known for gracing us with his presence away from the guerilla warting sub-sub section outings. The route took us up a new footpath from the dam up towards Holdsworth and then, using a degree of local knowledge, to Kirk Edge and Onesmoor trig where whisky was consumed in the almost tropical conditions. From here, a more or less standard descent into High Bradfield, alongside the reservoir and then up towards the source of the Limpopo. It was around here that Mr Fulton managed to detach himself from the posse (despite us waiting for some length of time for him to appear!!) and probably, although we will never be able to verify this, followed the route of the Dungworth race despite there being a well known short cut. His response upon being asked where he had got to was short and to the point!! ps rumour has it that there will; be some warts garments available for viewing and purchase next Wednesday
A starry starry night and a good turnout for a surprisingly orderly traverse of Houndkirk Moor, down and up to Totley trig, a bit of messing around in tussocks en route to Burbage Edge, and a gentle canter back to the vehicles. Good to see Roy G back in circulation and two or three other new faces.
Somewhat disconcertingly, there was a good deal of talk of maps and the use thereof, which slowed progress markedly in the first half of our jaunt. Fortunately no-one seemed able to spot Bamford stone circle on their bits of dampening paper, so we were left to fall back upon Andy's native cunning soon enough and, to some considerable whooping, our great leader was the first to alight upon this oft bypassed antiquity. Thereafter there was more route marching to Hordron stone circle and thence back via the bus shelter and some quite appalling tussocks and bog (for those foolish enough to follow your correspondent). All in all, quite pleasant in a wet and wind-blown kind of way - and at a little over 9 miles, rather more effort than most of us had anticipated.
A sub tropical night with temperatures more reminiscent of mid summer in the south of France. 27 runners set off on this inaugural 2011/12 warts runs. There was an unusual sense of agreement about the route! Normally we have at least 10 minutes argument prior to any warts run but this time it was agreed that we climb Fairbrook Naze, across the bog to Kinder Gates and then to Redbrook top. A precipitous descent took us to somewhere near, well actually quite a bit above, Mermaid's Pool but, hell, it was near enough. The first whisky of the year and raspberry truffles were consumed in this sub-tropical paradise. After this it was straight back via the other Redbrook with much fragmentation of the group, a worrying portent for future runs!
A small contingent met at Broomhead Hall including an injured Capt. Harmer who opted for a gentle walk. Not content with the usual run, young Berzins decided to take us on a tour of the nether regions of this part of the World. First stop via the girders was the pond, then the ruin below Pike Lowe and then towards a tin shack somewhere under Wet Stones, complete with picnic tables! A stunning little spot and one which is bound to be a checkpoint on the night race! Then a steady jog back via Flint Hill and the gamekeeper track via the Deakin Stone and back to the cars at full sprint. A beautiful night's running
End of another season. Perhaps, after such a spendid Warting last week in the Upper Derwent - mist/bogs and all, the Stepping stones of Bamford would not compete, however a good night in Jarvis clough and environs, even if the 2nd stone circle proved elusive. This year another night race (odin's mine) entered the fray, and climbing up the Ramparts of Mam Tor got everyone going - Rob Moore was so excited he flung himself of the Scree Descent. The Long Cakes returned and offered good sport, and route choice. The Winter began challenging - with thoughts of last years Snow but after the Carols conditions generally were benign. The low point of the season was Thurlstone, good beer - but no Andy Plummer, which was the reason for going; fellow Warts in confusion kept asking me was that the A628, the a616 - or even the M1 ahead as we took in the field and paths of the area. It did get a lot better the following week. Thanks to Farmer Pete we climbed steeply out of his farmyard where 30 runners had parked up and over to Ouseldon to enjoy the crag and rocks, meandered over to Green Clough and to Alport castles. The sight of the string of lights descending steeply of the castles, on a frosty night, was magical. The tensions between running Warts (paths) and HogWarts (heather/tussocks) continued to be played out - and no doubt will again in the year ahead - keeping the spirit alive! New season will start again mid September. As last year a summer programme of occasional Warting will take place, an obvious one being Kings Tree - for those not racing at Bamford. Any suggestions for venues for 2011-12 gratefully received. All the best, Andy (Captain Harmer).
An excellent run, ably led by Bob from Yorkshire Bridge over to Stanage Edge. No clag to contend with, and I don't think anyone got lost, although we managed to not find the second stone circle, which is par for the course. I think Clive may have been heading towards it when we decided to head for home. Cracking descent to Bamford New Road for those who returned via the edge, a much less entertaining route back for the rest by Bamford Clough, mill and railway track. Clocks go forward this weekend so onto the summer timetable!
Thick fog at the Barrel, kudos to Moz for cycling out there. We all knew that the only way to navigate in those conditions was to keep continuous map contact, so in true Warts style the map stayed in the back pocket, apart from a few panics when we really felt we needed to know where we were. The gps plot looks less like a spider had run all over it than I expected, but we made a spectacular 180 degree error on Offerton Moor, and were thrown completely off line by respecting a no access sign on Eyam Moor - that'll teach us.
A swiftish reverse running of the Thornbridge race with a distinctly unscenic whisky stop at the bottom of the steep (de)ascent. Andy M would like it formally recorded that he redeemed his performance of a fortnight ago by producing a Tallisker filled hipflask this week. Star performance of the night however goes to Roy Small, who arrived resplendent in dayglo cycling clobber at the pub, having cycled out from Sheffield. Cap'n Harmer would've been appalled on so many different levels.