My relationship with the Bob Graham round
Victoria Morris
Ever since I learned about the Bob Graham round – 42 Lake District fells within 24 hours – I have felt the need to give it a go.
Most people will tackle the ‘BG’ by arranging a team of pacers to accompany them on each of the six legs, and support crews to meet them at road crossings with food, drinks, dry shoes, etc. Preferring to do things under my own steam (or perhaps “on top of my own bog” would be a better personal metaphor) I decided that I wanted to go solo and unsupported. The Bob Graham 24 Hour Club, who officiate over such things, don’t recognise solo attempts, on the grounds that they are (a) unsafe and (b) unverifiable. Having ignored this rule, I was therefore at liberty to do things pretty much as I wanted; I didn’t need to confine myself to starting the circuit in Keswick, or to worry too much about coming home within 24 hours.
Here follows the story of my many attempts over the last six or so years:
Attempt 1
I just set out from Keswick on my own to see how far I got. At Dunmail Raise I had a crisis of confidence in myself and began to fear that if I ever made it into Wasdale, I might never get out again. Feeling quite sheepish, I continued as far as High Raise, then headed back south towards Keswick.
Hills: 19
Distance: 30 miles
Attempt 2
I thought I would avoid the fear of being stuck in Wasdale forevermore by starting from Dunmail Raise, thus completing the Dunmail to Wasdale leg first, while my legs were fresh. Although rain had been forecast, it seemed quiet overnight… because the rain had fallen as snow! Freshly-fallen powder snow is not conducive to speedy running, and attempt 2 was over before it even began.
Hills: 3
Distance: 5 miles
Attempt 3: nearly…
Sensing that his life would be easier if he didn’t have to live with someone who was continually planning and failing Bob Graham rounds, my husband Laurence persuaded me to Organise Something Properly. So we set aside a weekend during which my running partner Keith could accompany me through Wasdale, and Laurence could provide road support at Dunmail and Honister.
I started from Keswick early in the morning, and made excellent time to Dunmail, being more than an hour ahead of my (admittedly back-of-the-envelope) schedule by the time I met Laurence and Keith there. I was beginning to feel a bit queasy as Keith and I continued on towards the Langdale Pikes, but I often feel queasy on long-distance runs, and try to ignore it as best I can.
Soon after the Langdales, the weather turned foul: wet, cold, and dark several hours early. Not a problem: Keith is very much like me in that he would prefer to run straight through a puddle rather than worrying about keeping dry. But there were other people out in the hills who were not so accustomed to bad weather as us: we met a group of people who might be described as either “extremely inexperienced”, or “bloody idiots”, depending on how polite you are feeling. These idiots people had somehow ascended Scafell Pike from Wasdale, and were now trying to descend in the vague direction of Langdale. They were ill-equipped, sodden, struggling to move (or even stand up) on rocky ground, and one of them was having a panic attack. Unfortunately, the one having the panic attack was also the one with the map – which was in fact a Google map on his smartphone, which he wasn’t coherent enough to be able to unlock. I started talking him through breathing exercises, while Keith got on the phone to Mountain Rescue to explain that we had a problem. It took a good couple of hours to move the group as far as the Lingmell col, where we could point them at a path and say “follow that until you meet Mountain Rescue coming up the other way”. By this point, I was wearing all of my spare layers, and Keith’s, and was absolutely freezing. We couldn’t stay with the group any longer without becoming casualties ourselves, so pressed on1.
By now more than 2 hours behind schedule, our pace slowed even further because the cloud came down so that we couldn’t actually see the ground. We were very close to the correct route, but were unable to find those secret little fellrunners’ ‘trods’ which sneak their way through the tricky terrain. We stumbled and cursed and tripped and generally made a pig’s ear of the rocky ground on Yewbarrow, Steeple, Pillar, Kirk Fell, Great Gable… at which point I started being sick. Presumably getting really, really cold and then warming up again hadn’t helped. So, we got even slower as I had to stop to throw up at intervals.
Laurence had by now been waiting for us at Honister for more than 6 hours. As we neared the car park, Keith had the sense to turn his head-torch on to full beam in the hope of attracting Laurence’s attention. I am extremely grateful that he had the presence of mind to do this, because, having concluded that something must have gone awry, Laurence had just built a cairn of supplies in the car park, and was on the point of driving off somewhere to find a phone signal when he saw a faint gleam of light coming over the hill. It would have been extremely dispiriting to approach the checkpoint just as the support team drove away.
There was now no chance of completing the round within 24 hours, but we sat in Laurence’s car for a while to decide whether I felt well enough to continue. I tried to think sensibly (not easy when you’ve been out for 20+ hours, much of it in a storm) and decided that if I were advising anyone else, I would not think it sensible to continue. Reluctantly, we called it a day.
Hills: 39
Distance: 55 miles
Attempt 4
Autumn 2021 saw my fourth abortive attempt. This roughly followed the pattern of attempt #2, but with less snow. Laurence agreed to wait on Scoat Fell to provide a food top-up and make sure that I got through Wasdale. Annoyingly, I managed to twist an ankle within about a mile of leaving the van. Working on my usual premise that most pain goes away if you ignore it for long enough, I duly ignored it. By the bouldery section around the Scafells, however, I realised that the pain wasn’t going away, and that if I continued for a further 45 miles I would have a proper injury rather than a minor sprain to contend with. Laurence and I descended to Ennerdale together, so I still had a good long day in the hills, but again didn’t get round the BG.
Hills: 18
Distance: 20 miles
Attempt 5: this is getting ridiculous
Just as I was thinking that maybe the Bob Graham wasn’t for me, and that I should stop wasting time climbing the same hills in the Lake District over and over again, Laurence decided that we should set aside another weekend, and that this time I had to do it Or Else. Or else what? “Or else I’ll bring you back in September and you’ll have to do it then with less daylight and worse weather.” OK, I’ll try. The 14th of May was selected somewhat arbitrarily, and marked on the kitchen calendar to ensure that it was kept free.
Unfortunately (or perhaps with good sense) Keith had to work, so I was back to my plan of running solo and largely unsupported. I decided to start from Dunmail again, with Laurence providing limited road-based support around Keswick and Threlkeld.
I really could not believe my luck with the weather. Not only was it possible to see your own feet – you could actually see all the other hills, allowing me to ‘read the hills’ and work out where I was supposed to be going next. Not being a hot-weather sort of person, the conditions were actually verging on being too good. I dunked my head in just about every stream/puddle that I passed in an effort to keep cool, and would not be surprised to still be finding tadpoles in my hair later this week.
Other people had presumably seen the weather forecast: there were 14 vans parked at Dunmail Raise when I left at 6 am – all providing support for runners starting from the ‘official’ start point in Keswick. Although I met few other people attempting a full round, I did catch up with a trio of recce-runners on the ascent from Rossett Pike towards Bowfell. Navigation can be tricky for this ascent, but for once I managed to find the correct route, avoiding the embarrassment of leading other people up a blind gully.
Most of legs 1 and 2 passed uneventfully, although I tried out a new ascent of Kirk Fell (opting to stay on the shady side of the hill for as long as possible) and was so disorientated when I popped out onto the summit plateau that I nearly headed off in the wrong direction and missed the actual top.
Between Kirk Fell and Great Gable I ran straight through a tarn to cool off, which felt lovely, but made my trainers weigh absurdly heavy.
At Honister, I visited the café – something that ‘paced’ runners would not have the luxury of doing – and sat on a shady bench for a while enjoying a sausage roll with tomato ketchup. This later proved to be a wise move because it was pretty much the last solid food that I was able to get down.
At the end of my third leg, I was met in Kewsick by Alex Staniforth, who accompanied me as far as the Latrigg car park, explaining rather dolefully that having recently recovered from COVID he was forbidden to run more than about 5k.
Meanwhile, Laurence was having an eventful time at his Latrigg ‘check point’’… smoke issuing from the bonnet of his car. The cause was identified as a rag that had somehow found its way under the bonnet, which was removed with the assistance of a passer-by and his barbecue tongs.
Alex had kindly brought me a cinnamon bun from a vegan bakery in Windermere2, which I attempted to tackle, but found it too sweet to get down. Feeling/being sick had been one of my main worries, and I felt decidedly worse after the cinnamon bun than before – perhaps this was a coincidence, or perhaps I should have stuck to my rule of not eating sweet food during long runs. For my final two legs, I managed to consume 2.5 gels and a handful of wine gums – really getting my money’s-worth from the Honister sausage role.
Being about 2 hours ahead of my schedule, I opted for the ‘interesting’ route of Halls Fell ridge to descend from Blencathra, rather than Doddick Fell, which is much more runnable but less exciting (for which, read ‘fewer gullies that you can slide down on your bum’). By now I was feeling quite sick, and wasn’t able to eat anything more in Threlkeld, despite sitting in Laurence’s car for about 15 minutes, staring at a variety of food options. This made the ascent of Clough Head (the start of my final leg) challenging enough in itself… but to add to the fun, I then got hiccups. The ascent must have taken at least an hour, because my head start was down to 8 minutes by the time I finally made it onto the long Helvellyn ridge. Personally I like to have a relaxed schedule so that I can get a bit ahead of myself at the start of things, then have spare time should something untoward (such as hiccups when you’re trying to climb something that feels vertical) happen later on.
For the first four legs, I had been quite a purist and made sure that I touched every summit cairn. By now, I was so tired that I decided that ‘close enough’ was good enough for me, and just waved at each cairn as I plodded on by. In any case, I am sure there are far more bumps on the ridge than there are ‘official’ hills, so I think I must have climbed plenty of ‘spare’ hills.
The sting in the tail of starting from Dunmail is that Fairfield and Seat Sandal rear up right at the end. But on the other hand, you don’t need to take your bag up Fairfield. And Seat Sandal isn’t quite as big as it looks (honestly).
With half an eye on my watch, I pushed myself to keep going until I finally reached the ladder stile at Dunmail Raise after 23 ½ hours. I won’t tell you how long it took me to get over that stile! I collected my sleeping bag from the van, had a quick splash wash in the stream, then went to sleep hoping that I wouldn’t look too much like a dead body.
Hills: 42
Distance: 66 miles
Total hills climbed on BG: 121
Total distance run/walked on BG: 176 miles
Footnotes:
1 Everyone got down the mountain safely, after another 5 hours. We later learnt that there had actually been another three people with the group, who thankfully got themselves down without incident. What really shocked us is that, during the whole time we were with them, nobody thought to say “by the way, we’ve lost three people…”.
2 The internet suggests banillabakery.co.uk