Original Mountain Marathon

Now that the waters are receding, metaphorically speaking, I have time to write my blog.
Firstly, many thanks for all the kinds words and thanks, and for your concerns over the weekend. Secondly thank you to those who have been awaiting my blog with interest, wanting to know what myself and ‘Team NAV4’ have to say of it.

By now you will have all realised that the media hyped up he whole episode. You will also know that phone communications are non existent in the Borrowdale valley, and that it is only now that I have to time to ‘blog’ and I only like to do so when I have something to say in a composed manner.

The facts;
Wilko and myself participated in the Long Score class arriving Friday evening and sleeping in my VW van. On Saturday we started early and completed Day One without trouble; fell top conditions were bad with very gusty winds, so low level route choices were key. Descending into the overnight camp in Buttermere from Haystacks it was apparent that the overnight camp was probably going to be a very tedious and soggy affair. (And I’d made my decision that we were heading for home, rather than spend a long night in a tent, although I had yet to share the thought with Wilko!) Spending an hour to do just 1km crossing the valley bottom with numerous stream and river crossings confirmed to me that once ‘dibbed out’ at the Day One finish, we’d be walking back over Honsiter Pass and back to the Event Centre at Seathwaite.

On arrival at the finish we were informed that the event was cancelled, i.e. abandoned, and that we should all walk back over Honister. I guess the time at this point was around 3pm. The mood amongst everybody was a mixture of big disappointment and yet some relief, and we all geared up and fed ourselves, briefly, in the big barn prior to an exhilarating walk up Honister Pass. I saw no-one in trouble from hyperthermia, etc, there was no panic or sense of drama, and it was great fun.

At the top of the Pass we were met by Mark Weir, the owner of Honsiter Slate Mine, who told us that Borrowdale was severely flooded and we should go back down to Buttermere. He further said that he was going ‘to arrange for buses to take us out to Cockermouth or somewhere’ and that he was ‘going to speak to Police’. Mark Weir asked for volunteers to help him sort this out, so I stepped forward, raised my hand and said, ‘Yes, I’ll help but you need to tell me more about Borrowdale.’ He said,’ Borrowdale is under water... cars are floating’ I asked, ‘Where are cars floating?’ to which he said ‘The Borrowdale Road is closed’. I tried to discuss further but conditions prevented further discussion.

Some people were sheltering in the visitor centre and some started to get on the bus. Wilko and I actually got on the bus briefly but my gut feeling was that we should be heading for Seathwaite. Whilst middle to lower Borrowdale may be flooded and impassable, our cars at Seathwaite were a safe haven and needed to be reached. Wilko and I got off the bus and talked to some other runners. We agreed that it was illogical to go back down the Buttermere side and we should continue to Borrowdale and Seathwaite, and the Event Centre. I knew communications would be difficult and that we needed to try even if it meant coming back up. We jogged down the road and turned left up the Seathwaite road, walking through flooded parts up to our knees. My van was parked about 800m from the road end at Seathwaite and it was a little disappointing to see it two feet deep in water. I estimate the time to be around 5pm. The van is a VW transporter Kombi/MPV/camper. There was a few inches of water inside the back of the van, but we got inside, got a brew on, and generally changed some of our damp gear. The water continued to rise about another four inches and we sat eating and pondering our next move. I did not feel in danger, just a bit frustrated. There was a steady stream of people walking (wading) up passed us and Landrover and Transit type vehicles driving both ways. By this time it was dark and difficult to gauge what exactly was going on outside of our steamed up windows and rather dank environment. The water started to recede about 7pm and by 8pm we could don willies and walk up to Seathwaite and The Event Centre itself.

Within 100metres of leaving the van, the floods had gone and although the road was awash there was plenty of relatively dry ground and space surrounding all The Event Centre. There were many people sat in cars in the parking fields, and some people were camping. It’s difficult to say how many people were in Seathwaite, but there was a feeling of disappointment amongst the people chatting in the barn which was Race HQ. We talked for some while before going over to Wilfs catering tent to see how they were; as regular customers Charlotte, Wilf, Ruth, Jane and Pippa have become friends and we wanted to help if we could. Wilfs had been flooded a little during the afternoon but they were all in fine spirits, although a little bored and frustrated. We pieced together as much information as we could (communications had always been difficult due to no phone coverage) and concluded there was nothing we could do until the morning. Wilko and I returned to the van around 11pm (which became 10pm) and bedded down for the night.

At first light, around 6:30, I woke to hear cars driving away from Seathwaite. Wilko and I went up to Seathwaite, initially to phone for breakdown recovery and to see what was going on. It became apparent that a fair proportion of people had been and gone home already and things were generally back to normal with Wilf’s feeding people, people reporting to the finish and generally talking of the wonderful, but frustrating adventure they had experienced.

We returned to the vicinity of the van and basically spent the next seven or eight hours directing traffic, pushing cars out of muddy fields and helping people get away. All morning a steady stream of people started walking up the road. Consequently, we spent a lot of time talking to dozens of people and finding out where they had been. Two good friends had been accommodated overnight just down the road at The Glaramara Centre. Other people had stayed at Gatesgarth Farm, either in their tents or in the barn. Some local friends had gone home for the night, one friend had ended up in a travel lodge near Penrith. Others, had eventually been bussed back from Cockermouth, although they had to walk the last two km from Seatoller.

The parking fields cleared really quickly, especially with the help of three tractors, but many drove off without much trouble only needing the usual amount of pushing from runners. My van was clearly in the worst possible place, along with fellow NAV4 tutors, Pete and Stuart. For a section of around 200metres the road had been flooded to a depth of two-three feet with approximate two dozen cars taking the brunt of this. Many of those drove away eventually, once dried out, and I estimate that 6 or 7 recovery trucks came to collect flooded cars, with only three or four remaining once I’d gone. Pete had abandoned his earlier that day as he had a lift to get home from a friend. TV crews continued to arrive during the afternoon looking for a story, when there really was nothing to see.

Wilko got a lift out of the valley around 4pm, Stu drove out at about 5pm and I got recovered eventually around 6pm, to arrive home about 8:30pm. Suffice to say that we were some of the last to leave the valley.

Since Monday I’ve been monitoring the forums and media generally ever since, and dealing with my own correspondence and sorting out my van and insurance claim. At the moment the van is awaiting an insurance assessor to see if it is repairable or to be written off.
What is apparent, now that the media hype has gone away, is that there was never really an emergency. The local press could make interesting reading this weekend as many of us want to know who took the decision to mount a full scale emergency incident, and why? It is very evident that the media over reacted to something on a ‘slow news day’, but I think the police need to explain why the whole drama got out of hand.

The key issues/points that remain for me are:
1) That people were wrongly informed/advised that they should return to Gatesgarth and Buttermere.
2) Walking back to The Event Centre, by road, in order to effect the cancellation of the event, and evacuation of the overnight campsite, was the best thing to do. That is where each and every one of us had our additional spare clothing and food, and where the facilities were in place to look after us.
3) Point 2. was blindingly obvious to any competitor but totally misunderstood by some ‘external bodies’. It was, however, the strategy that the organisers wished to happen and have relied upon for forty years. This is also what every competitor was expecting to do, and wanted to do.
4) At some point, someone took away the self-reliance and responsibility that would have led competitors to return to the event centre and started bussing people needlessly away from the event and so created a drama and crisis out of nothing. How did this happen?
5) I assume that, ultimately, the decision to mount a ‘rescue plan’ or manage a major incident is the responsibility of the police, but how they gathered their information in order to instigate this ‘rescue plan’ seems unexplained.

I look forward to what may happen next.