Some
of the many, and some interlopers (no, not the
wee one on the right!)
Mary's
photos here Alan
Gebbie's photos here Digby's
photomap here
It was
with trepidation that we viewed the mist covered
Ochils as we headed for Alva this morning.
It was with trepidation that we prepared for
the start of the race.
Then with a sudden movement of the pack we were
off. A long undulating run of about 2 miles led
to the start of the hill and with a good tail
wind we climbed for miles and eventually into
the mist. It was a case of keeping the guy in
front in sight or getting the map out.
Luckily way down the field it is easy enough
to follow, but the guys at the front have to
find their own way (or not, more of that to come).
The Marshals had to cope with horrendous conditions
on the tops (Thanks) and as we ran off Ben Ever
to see Alva appear out of the Mist, it was a
wonderful view. I spent the run alternating places
with the Ex President, I got him on the ups he
got me on the downs, until he ran off to Alva
and the finish.
A great race, and fantastic Carnethy turnout
of 37 runners.
The race was won by Finlay Wild (Lochaber) from
Matthew Sulivan (Shettleston) and Mike Reid of
Carnethy in third.
Carnethy led the ladies with Angela Mudge first
home (and first FV40) and Charlotte Morgan 2nd,
Sharon Bird (unattached) was third.
Keith Burns was 1st V70.
There were 9 Carnethies in the first 20 finishers,
and I was 27th Carnethy finisher in 93rd place. Willie Gibson
The
start took a lot of us by surprise. Matt was
tying his shoelaces, I was waiting for the briefing,
which may have been taking place but with such
a large field it was hard to tell. So we were
off through a very scenic dell with waterfall
and beautiful autumnal trees. The narrow track
spread the field out considerably so those nearer
the front had a definite advantage.
As we started up the first serious ascent the clouds
lifted and views of the route over rolling hills were
revealed, then hidden again, not to be seen any more.
The wind rose and we had the luxury of being blown
uphill. Now and then forlorn marshalls appeared out
of the gloom flapping their arms hopelessly in the
freezing gale.
I had no idea where I was at any time which was
less than competent hill navigation. Keeping
in sight of runners in front became VERY important.
The course was very nearly comprehensively marked
except for one hurricane lashed high point where
the choice appeared to be a headlong plunge or...
what? With no runners in sight it was fortunate
that Joan Wilson turned up, knew the way, turned
right, and we followed. 200 metres on we found
the route marker. The mist stung as it hit our
faces and the sight of Jane & dogs on the
last rise signalled the final descent, and not
a moment too soon. Digby
I
had to turn out for this to complete my championship
tally. My thoughts on the start line were occupied
by recollection of a big blob of red rain on
the Met Office forecast for mid-afternoon over
Ben Cleugh. With this thought, and still halfway
through double-tying my laces, the race made
a premature start. The long climb up the flank
of Mill Glen was pleasant relief from the fast
sprint toTillicoultry.
I was able to mentally list all the hazards that would
have to be removed if this race were under future UK
Athletics governance. I was also able to list the passage
of the familiar faces I had intended to keep in front
of, and couldn’t. I appreciated the tow up to
Andrew Gannel from Tom Bowie, and then he was gone
in the cloud. By Ben Cleugh the red rain had arrived
early, transported by a roaring wind that was no longer
providing uplift, either physically or mentally. Visual
stimulus was now confined to the next five metres of
bog, where my new Walshes were not performing as well
as my old Innovates did.
Jane’s encouragement on Ben Ever summit gave
me the lift I needed to finish the job, augmented by
Helen’s reappearance as a growing threat for
the end game. The reappearance of distant views, as
always, was wonderful. I managed to hold Helen off,
just, despite totally losing grip on the steep wet
grass before the wood, slamming my jaw into the ground
and rattling my brain.
A great afternoon’s entertainment. Keith Burns
It was wet Andrew Normand
It was windy Colin Wilson
It was wet and windy Graham Nash
Secretary, Carnethy HRC