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The 2004 West Highland Way Race |
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A Midsummer Adventure...Again!
Photos of Bob throughout the 2004 race - click here
It
was Friday evening, the 18th of June 2004. After months hiding out in a
mountain cave of unknown location, trying to resist the jam piece
cravings, the long training runs and avoiding sending in the entry form,
I now somehow found myself a passenger in a designated race support
vehicle heading for Milngavie…again! The
car park was busy with runners, supporters and marshals as we arrived to
register at the train station ticket office. "A
ticket to Fort William please". "All
the trains have left sonny, just sign this disclaimer and you can join
the other mad nutters who are going to run there." The
adventure challenge that you are about to embark upon is quite a
thought. Milngavie to Fort William, 95 miles up the West Highland Way… As
I walked back to the car, now attached to my handy hospital friendly
race number wrist tag, I surveyed the assembled gathering thinking,
there are probably only a handful of days in my life as extraordinary as
this. I
was performing some last minute race rituals when my friend and fellow
entrant Russell Adams approached my support vehicle. I was in a
contorted position in the front seat, leggings down at half-mast,
applying cream to my tender bits. He laughed loudly and so did I - a
welcome break to the tension that we all felt. After the customary
shaking of hands and the exchange of good luck remarks I noticed time
was almost upon us. 12:45am and Dario's pre-race briefing contained a
thought provoking assortment of words like "snow forecast on the
hills" and "bivvy bags required from Bridge of Orchy
onwards!" Derek
Jablonski, who was an invaluable support to me last year, had decided to
have a go this year. The event has that sort of influence. We both
headed towards the underpass ready for the off and assembled with Dave
Muir and Jez Tomlinson near the back of the enormous field of 90
runners. I felt the cool night air even with my hat, gloves and rain
jacket on. A few of us from Fife who had done some training together
intended to accompany each other as far as we felt the pace comfortable
then go our own ways. I fidgeted with my backpack straps and chatted
apprehensively. A few cameras flashed from the road banking then a
reserved cheer as everyone suddenly began moving through the tunnel. The
2004 WHW race had begun. We
made our way past the late night revellers in the town centre and off
into the blackness of Mugdock wood. During these early miles the trick
of the night blunts the concept of distance travelled. It's a time to
relax and enjoy, pondering what lay ahead. Even though I had previously
passed this part of the Way a few times, I wasn't confident of
recognising the route at night. I also thought the runners in front of
us were too excitedly chatting away to really notice. I suggested to
Derek that we slow up further from our already slow pace and drop back
to give a clear view ahead. I had my map and compass but didn't want to
have to use them. Now warming up, we also decided to remove our jackets. My
suspicions were confirmed as we approached Arlevan cottage. A row of
torchlight's had continued down the landrover track and way off the
trail. They were obliviously bobbing around in the darkness towards
Ardoch, shining like a landing strip for a close encounter UFO. We
called to the nearest runner in front as we turned left on the trail and
looking back, saw that the message had filtered down and all the lights
were now dancing back towards the route. Derek,
Dave, Jez and I chatted intermittently among ourselves and other runners
as we made our steady way to my first arranged fuel stop at Drymen.
Entering the approach field I remembered to switch on the flashing
armband so supporters Jean and Gus Bowman could see my imminent
approach. Molly their friendly Spaniel looked on, thinking, "That
looks like my flashing collar?" Yes Molly, it was and thanks,
that's a chew bar I owe you. With
the first fluid fill successfully undertaken using my new giant formula
one style plastic filler (thanks to Malcolm) and a jam piece eaten, it
was on towards Garadhban Forrest. Here I met Phyllis Lemoncello a fellow
Fife member and begun the gradual climb up and over Conic Hill. I kept
my head torch with me but the morning light soon began to filter through
and it was unnecessary. The summit was clear of cloud and offered a
stunning early view of Loch Lomond; it's many islands and the
surrounding hills. Passing a few runners we carefully made the brisk
descent down to the Balmaha car park and checkpoint number one. A
queue had formed to sign in with the marshal and for the first time
today I was aware that the dreaded midges were biting me. As soon as
possible I hurriedly progressed over to where Gus and Jean had parked
the car. I perused my 2003 WHW race menu and it said, "rice pudding
and tuna piece at Balmaha". That'll do for me. Stick to the
blueprint. More water and sports drink then out along the road for the
lochside jog to Rowardennan. I
had begun to feel bloated prior to arriving at Balmaha and as I left, I
felt even worse. I jog walked through the woods steadily realising that
I was now unable to keep pace with my friends and began drifting off the
back. It's a long race I thought and tried to move forward as best as I
could with an exploded airbag slowly deflating in my stomach. I met up
with Craig Liddle and Richard Shaw also from Fife and we chatted about
how things were going. I began to compare how I felt this year with last
year and I wasn't too optimistic. I had breathing problems and felt
light-headed, nauseous and the stomach pain and discomfort had
increased. They say prepare for the low points of the race. Well I was
certainly having one here. I carried on trying to convince myself I had
felt just as bad last year. It will pass; just keep moving, even slowly.
Surprisingly I soon began to see Derek, Dave and Jez a short distance in
front and managed to catch them up. Together we headed along the road
past the hotel and arrived at the Rowardennan support point. Still
feeling unwell, I immediately headed into the 'tourist comfort hut' as
per last year and gave thanks that there was a vacancy! I
exited in time to see Dave and Jez accompanied by Jocelyn head off along
the landrover track. Gus and Jean quickly sorted me out with more fluids
and food and I left to catch up. Luckily I arrived just as they were
heading into the grounds of the Youth Hostel. "Wrong way
guys!" I shouted, and they've both completed the race before. Jez
has twice! Derek soon caught us up after swallowing a serious quantity
of home made soup. Gradually feeling more functional I chanced a look at
my splits' chart and was reassured that my target schedule was still on. The
Way continues along the Lochside high road before narrowing considerably
into a path. We occasionally passed other runners including the
moustached look alike118 duo. We shared turns at the front along the
muddy approach to Inversnaid checkpoint. A startled backpack laden lady
walker kindly made way for us. Unfortunately she overbalanced and fell
onto her back on the grass banking. "Are you OK?" we called
passing by. "Yes", thankfully came the eventual reply. The
Inversnaid Hotel, official checkpoint number two is a rather unexpected
sight to emerge through the rhododendron bushes. I registered myself in
with the ladies from the Strathven Striders and the Trossachs rescue
team is on hand with my Lucozade sport and jam piece, which I had
deposited, at the start. More water and a free banana, courtesy of the
sponsor and I walk off munching my snack reflecting on last years' mega
midge problem here. And on the subject of highland wildlife, where do
all those large black slugs go in winter? This thought was to crop up
periodically throughout the day as I tried to avoid squashing them all
over the trail. Having
now covered over 34 miles our individual aches and niggles had begun.
This section from here to the end of the Loch is narrow, muddy, rocky
and undulating and I like it. It's a veritable obstacle course focussing
the attention and helping pass the miles to Ardleish. I like the up,
down, slow, quick, walk, run, jump, step, hobble, slip, trip and duck
bits and with the extra addition of two recently fallen trees to clamber
through. I intensely concentrate trying not to fall when suddenly I am
startled by a moving rock. Calm down, it's only one of the local
mountain goats spooked by my appearance. We emerge from the trees at the
loch end clearing. I find myself at the front with Dave. The others are
slightly further behind. I slowly walk on, continuing to take on fuel. I
then notice the tree branch I'd painfully smacked my forehead into while
running through a swollen river during a wet, freezing training run in
March. Ouch…that was quite an eventful day! Up
through the trees and on to Doune bothy where that same March day,
contemplating how far I was from my car at Balmaha, I'd scribbled a
painful, grumpy account of the first half of that long cold training run
before heading back. I now reminded myself that ultra runs are fun and
got on with jogging down the hill past the bothy. Looking back, I
realised I was now on my own. I
passed a few runners as I made decent time through Beinglas farm, then
up Glen Falloch and onto Derry Darroch the third checkpoint. My ankles
had begun to feel sore but I received a great psychological lift when
amongst the crowd I spotted Jane McIntyre and Henry Cooper who had come
to support me. I spoke to Brian Landels and Graeme Bairden who were here
to help Dave, Jez, Craig and Richard. I registered with the race
marshals and ate a banana then covered the short distance to my support
stop at the tunnel in about 10 minutes, almost smacking my head into the
rail tunnel steel roof girder as I intently studied my splits' chart!
"Duck Bob", whew just in time! Gus and Jean were a welcome
sight and now assisted by Jane, Henry and Charlie Anderson who had
arrived to help. This is definitely an event to share with others, a
right social occasion. The team was together and I felt generally more
optimistic. I called to Deirdre, Neil and Jocelyn that the guys were
just behind and I made my only trainer change. I thought my laces were
maybe too tight from the start and had caused nerve pain on the front of
my ankles. Just have to go with it now. Another look at the menu, a rice
pudding and a tuna piece. Unfortunately, being over zealous with the
salt application on the tuna for scientific reasons, I had to swiftly
chuck this unpalatable sandwich to the birds and head for halfway
distance. Higher
I climbed, surveying the stunning views from the old military road
towards the mountains of An Caisteal up to Cruach Ardain and over to the
dominant twin peaks of Ben More and Stob Binnein. What a wonderful sight
and so far the predicted horrible weather hadn't materialised,
thankfully. However, many miles had still to be covered so I pressed on
past Bogle Glen and up to the viewpoint overlooking Crianlarich. The
tortuously steep roller coaster descent through the pine trees towards
Ewich caused my knees to protest. I unavoidably continued to compare how
I was this year to last and had to admit, I now felt more pain at this
stage and with 45 miles still to go. Emerging
to cross the A82 road towards Kirkton farm, I met and had a short
conversation with Adrian Stott before he pulled out a few hundred metres
on me and promptly disappeared past the historical ruins of St Fillan's
Priory. This is not one of my favourite sections possibly because it's
part road, flat and open and a bit of a directional detour! I'm glad
when I again cross the A82 and head for Tyndrum. Up
past Dalrigh but with no time to look for Robert the Bruce's sword in
the lochan, I now see Brian running the opposite way to support Richard.
I arrive at Tyndrum, checkpoint number four, make my presence known to
the marshals, say hello to my support team, grab a jam piece and a
banana and continue to walk on up the hill. I make sure I smile for some
photos so in years to come it all looks great fun! Jean and Jane are now
keeping me company and we make our way further up the trail towards
Bridge of Orchy. I look back at the view and see Adrian leaving the
checkpoint now behind me. The
wind had risen and was blowing into my face just as you'd expect. We ran
down the hill past Auch and I was tempted to cunningly block the wind
with Jean and Jane but no, that would be unfair assistance so we all
continued to run in line abreast. I was increasingly aware that my
ankles and knees were suffering much more at this early stage. This gave
me cause for concern but the full on conversation from the girls was an
entertaining and welcome distraction. As we neared the railway station
the sound of the wind was overlapped by the intermittent exhaust noise
of powerful motorcycles revving through the gears, accelerating along
the nearby A82. A reminder to me that prior to my late entry into the
world of ultra running I was more used to covering long distances by
this much faster and easier method. Down
past the houses and there's Henry waving his arms trying to stop the
traffic and help me cross the road. What a guy! I hope the cars are
paying attention to him as I charge across then down to checkpoint
number five. There at the bridge is Gus with his camera. I keep jogging,
try to look fresh and smile. That's another section completed and in the
bag. More water and sports drink and the compulsory space blanket into
my backpack. I was already carrying full waterproof body cover as
required. Another rice pudding, jam piece and off I went with Jane,
climbing up the Mam Carraigh path. The rain had now begun to drizzle
down in patches and my hands were cooling rapidly even with gloves on. The
top of Mam Carraigh is another elevated part of the Way offering a
superb view over the Black Mount hills and Rannoch Moor but with no time
to stare we plunged down the rocky path and out onto the road at the
Inveroran Hotel. Gus joined
us here as we made our way through the Caledonian Challenge charity
walkers coming in the opposite direction. This can be frustrating and
requires full use of that compulsory piece of WHW race kit…the sense
of humour. The
stile beyond Victoria Bridge is crossed and we make our way up onto the
famous Rannoch Moor. Jane tirelessly offers greetings with a smile
attempting to plough a direct route through the hundreds of oncoming
charity walkers. By now the wind is blowing stronger and unsurprisingly
it's still into my face. The showers continue and my core temperature is
starting to fall. Ba cottage ruins and bridge are passed. I deliberate
whether to put my jacket on. I see a runner ahead amongst all the
walkers and decide to carry on as I am. We exchange a few words and I
overtake him and his support runner on an incline. I then stop for the
umpteenth leak of the day behind the first big boulder I've seen in
ages. What a relief, for an instant I almost feel warm sheltered from
the wind. I contemplate how much race time could be saved wearing
incontinence running gear all day but then how does one avoid the
inevitable disadvantages? The runner now passes me as if freshly
invigorated and he's off down the hill in the direction of Blackrock
cottage. I pause for a moment to survey Kings House and on towards the
devils staircase and then shift my focus up a gear into the terminator
mode. Checkpoint number six is coming up. Another
crazy dash across the busy A85 and down the old tarmac road to the Kings
House Hotel. My backpack fluid is hurriedly replenished, I grab a banana
and another jam piece in minimal time but my hands are now so cold I
have difficulty getting the cling film off my sandwich! Even worse, I
can't put on any of the other four spare pairs of thicker gloves that I
brought as my fingers are too frozen. Can you believe it? Luckily
Charlie offers his windstopper gloves. They're a couple of sizes bigger
and I get them over my fingers with ease. I check out with the marshals
and stride onwards with Gus. Jane takes a breather. As I leave the car
park I noticed the runner who just passed me is still there. I was
primarily trying to finish and beat my last years' time and had no idea
what race position I currently held. I walked along the road wondering
whether to ask, then beginning to jog, decided I didn't want to know. Along
the Way to Altnafeadh we pass the last of the charity walkers. Gus tries
to alert them to our presence. Many are talking about important issues
on their mobile phones and one guy has a big sound system strapped to
his backpack giving it large volume as you do in the Highlands….
Cheers mate, you made me laugh at this crucial stage. Gus
parted company at Altnafeadh. Jean, the Beacon calendar July babe, now
joined me alone for the climb up the Devil's staircase sadly wearing
more than just her surfboard. Doing my best impersonation of the
Duracell bunny, the climbing version, I reach the summit cairn at a
reasonable pace. We turned momentarily to admire Buachaille Etive Mor,
the surrounding hills behind us and the walkers now descending who had
greeted us with an encouraging, "Well done ladies!" Jean and I
laughed loudly. The rain showers continued to sweep in and I was feeling
very cold. We had an hour's descent ahead of us so I finally decided to
put my jacket on. Over
and down the boulder-strewn path we bounded. Right foot, left foot,
trying to select the best placements wherever possible. The pain in both
my ankles and knees was getting quite severe causing me to wince and
land awkwardly with each step. I knew it was slowing my rate of descent
but in a race of this distance you have to be very lucky not to have
your fair share of problems to overcome. I looked over to the Mamores
panorama and reminded myself I was thankfully fortunate to be healthy
enough to have a go at this budget touring. We now overtook another
couple of runners as we further pounded our quads down the steep rough
vehicle track and out into the streets of Kinlochleven. Passing the
first row of houses I saw Jane and Henry come to escort us to where
Charlie and Gus had parked the car at checkpoint number seven, the final
one. A
cup of hot tea was thrust into my hand as I continued to walk straight
through looking at my splits' schedule and trying to ignore the enticing
aroma wafting from the chip shop. Another sandwich in the other hand and
an acknowledgement to the marshals as I went on by. Number 42 had left
the building…err…checkpoint. Fourteen miles to go and it's 6:45pm.
"Remember the head torches please,” I shout. Better to play safe
even though darkness was still a long way off. Gus, Jean and I began the
steep climb out of Kinlochleven and it wasn't long before my breathing
became laboured and I felt really tired. "Am
I going as well as last year?" "Yes"
came the encouraging answer. "I
sure don't feel as if I am". "You
are". "Why
am I not catching anyone then?" There
was a long silence followed by "You're doing great". Probably
just another race low point I thought but kept wasting my energy asking
daft questions anyway until I received this surprising answer,
"because you're in sixth place". Wow!
"Are you sure?" "Yes".
Having
no real idea what position I held until now I was very surprised and
delighted. "How
far are the others behind, can you see anyone up front?" I
snapped out of my low trough and was determined if possible to hold my
position. Negotiating the loose boulder surface and crossing the burns
of the Lairigmor as purposefully as possible with my deteriorating
ankles and knees, I kept enquiring if anyone was visible behind me?
"No", came the reply but it was almost impossible to
accurately see and I worried that a busload of my fellow competitors
would charge past me at any minute. Now
into the trees on the approach to Lundavra and we are met by a couple of
big four wheel drive vehicles possibly on a late school run or heading
for an unknown supermarket destination. With no desire to unnecessarily
interrupt my basic forward motion I kept moving on the edge of the track
and was almost knocked over. I had to settle for a light soaking as they
drove through some rather large puddles. Maybe it was an organised ploy
to slow my progress. Jane and Jean had voiced their disappointment that
they couldn't use their brand new head torches as I was probably going
to finish before it was dark! I
arrived at our last arranged support. Six miles to go and it's still
clear daylight. I say hello to Charlie and Henry. Jane joins us for the
final leg to the finish. I give my thanks but decline the offer of a cup
of tea and just bash on through as best I can on the undulating path,
motivated further by all the fantastic company I have. I was
"running" well here, just walking the uphill bits and some
extra bits I had designated as uphill bits. I was however, getting
accused of having phantom toilet stops just to get a rest! Honest guys,
I was still genuinely taking a leak. On that subject, I find out later
that Molly Jean's excitable spaniel had a little accident travelling
round from Kinlochleven in the car and peed on Jane's knee. Oops… and
Henry and Charlie the fireman had set fire to the banking at Lundavra
with the stove making tea! Such is the obvious excitement in a day in
the life of a WHW runner support team! It's
still light as we enter that final lost forest of dehydrated imaginings.
Tonight, thankfully, there are no goblins, gnomes or giant toads jumping
about the trail to distract us. But it was still all up, down, up, down,
round, through and under the dark pine trees negotiating the seemingly
endless winding path which eventually emerges with Big Ben Nevis to be
seen across the Glen under cloud cover. This is the beginning of the end
feeling. I still maintain my position at the front in order to have a
clear view of what I am about to trip over. Gravity assisted, we are
soon jogging down the wide forest track interrupted only by my need to
periodically hit the brakes. I hear some humorous remarks coming from
behind about new head torches. "Just wear them anyway", and
"Haven't you kept the box?" I shout back thoroughly enjoying
the banter even though my knees and ankle pains are now pushing me to
the limits of my endurance. Nearing the road we are met by Charlie,
Molly and Henry with the camera. Together in the fading evening light we
jog along the road towards Fort William on a mission. I again give my
thanks to the Glen Nevis Wishing Stone for a successful day and notice
that a twenty one hour finish time has probably just slipped beyond my
reach now. It's
an absolute delight when I see the thirty miles per hour sign on the
edge of town. One last effort up the final small incline in the routes'
total 11,624 feet of ascent and along past the houses, across the
roundabout road and down towards the finish in the Lochaber Leisure
centre. A last determined run across the car park and through the open
door. With my head pumping, I dizzily slump onto the reception counter
and I've made it. It's
been 21 hours, 7 minutes and 10 seconds since I left Milngavie, 95 miles
away. I am in 6th position overall and the 1st placed veteran over
forty. I have taken 1 hour 32 mins off my last years' time. Everything
now begins to blur in the heat of the Centre. The leg pain finally
overcomes my determination and I have difficulty walking back outside
for some fresh air and photographs. The pavement kerbside seems enormous
and I try to tackle it side on. I thank Gus, Jean, Henry, Jane, Charlie
and Molly for their superb enthusiastic support, the companionship and
friendship. I thank them all for being an essential part of this intense
experience and adventure. I phone my wife Gail to tell her I've survived
and thank her for her encouragement and tolerance during the months of
training. Immersed
in my thoughts, I slowly take a few very painful steps away from the
centre and try to absorb the content of my Saturday, the 19th of June
2004. An absolute epic. Well
done to first timers Derek, Russell, Craig and Phyllis and to Dave, Jez,
Richard and Fiona for all your successful, excellent finishes. Many
thanks to Dario, all the Marshals, the race organisation, the helpers,
support crews and fellow runners who together make this the fantastic
event that it is and an extraordinary special day in my life. More
race tales, information and full results can be found on the race
website at: Bob
Allison, December 2004 Photos of Bob throughout the 2004 race - click here View Bob's photos from the 2003 race - click here Read Bob's report of the 2003 race - click here |
