Some events are spoken of with hushed tones and slightly haunted eyes….. the New Chew is almost one of these (at least at Chorlton Runners). It is a 4 hour point score orienteering event that takes place in February up on the Saddleworth moors, which are not famous for their temperate conditions at that time of year. It is also not particularly high scoring- with few controls spread far apart over tough terrain. That’s before you even start trying to plan to navigate in the fog….
Having been away on an active holiday the week before I was aware I was fatigued (and carrying an injury) before we started. I was also nervous, having heard many a ‘new chew horror’ story. Mercifully, the start was early enough that parking at Dovestone reservoir was straight forward, and the card machine was working. The sailing club start was near the car park, but people were heading straight off so there were no friendly faces to welcome me. I hid in the changing room for 5 minutes to change shoes and decide what layers I wanted (it was blooming cold, even in the valley) before biting the bullet, registering and going to kit check. I always feel people look at me odd when they see my large, wobbly body rock up at these events but I am sure it’s just nerves.
Soon I was stood outside the sailing club with a large A3 map in my hand and a very driving wind trying to take it off me….
There was a point up the steep sided hill above me but it was a long way up and I though that with my tired legs I might as well go up the chew road a little way before committing to tough terrain. So I waved at the mountain rescue man eye in my suspiciously and started a very slow jog in to the relentless wind. I was looking for a wall to the left I could follow up to the control and when I found it, it was a steep climb up over tussock and rock. I was starting to sense why this event was tough. It took me a long time to pick my way up the bank, but the control was right where I expected. This was confidence supplying, though less confidence inducing were the three people bounding up the bank much quicker behind me. I wasn’t fast in the descent back to the road either and they all over took me. I felt very fell unfit.
The next point I decided to aim for was down in the valley, and involved following the river. Once again, there was no path and the terrain was slow going. I am not good at tussock and this was tussock and rock. It took a long time, and I began to doubt myself (had I missed it!?) but the landscape was right. I was just SLOW.
Next to the control was a bridge across the river and then a small trod winding up. I planned to head up, and hunt the point on a fence line across the moor. But it was steep and I had no idea how long the trod would last. The answer was- not that long- as I discovered a few minutes later when I decided to chance it. It was a long, step, rocky climb through rocks and heather. Below me, I could see the road to the reservoir and a cluster of mountain rescue vehicles. Part of my mind wondered if they were gathering in case I fell (I was using all fours not infrequently).
Eventually I popped up (mercifully away from a rocky outcrop) on the top of the edge to be given a surprised look by a passing runner on the path. I was now not entirely sure where I was on the edge so decided to trot along the edge to try orientate myself. Fortunately a path that definitely didn’t exist on the map appeared going towards the fence line I wanted. I decided to follow it across the windy, misty moor. Even on the path it was hard going in to the wind. Eventually a fence line came in to view and I followed it slowly along to the point where the control was. Two much faster runners appeared out the mist, said something I missed and disappeared away quickly along the fence line. I turned and went to pick up the path back to the edge but somewhere along the way I lost the path and ended up orientating myself off a long ditch that I assumed would head to the edge (it did, eventually).
The run along the edge was more technical than iI remembered, with more mud. I also turned the wrong way down to the reservoir inflow and ended up doing a super inefficient manourve to get on to the reservoir access road. That tarmac felt a bit of a sweet relief if I am honest. I was two hours in and making very little progress. The next point was on the far, pathless, side of the reservoir and would have been easy if it wasn't for the miss. I inadvertently aimed off and found a stream that took me down to the point at the reservoir, before I stumbled back to the path to take me along the other edge above Dovestone reservoir.
I had planned to take the path marked on the map as cutting across the moor. However, after a few hundred metres it spat me out back on the edge and as the sun was now trying to make an appearance, along with the valley floor through the fog, I decided to enjoy it and jog along. It was now getting a touch more busy, with both orienteers and walkers. I bumbled along the path slowly. I was over taken and tried to not look at the distance on my watch. I was trying to make a decision as to what to do with the remaining hour. Was the point on pots and pans (the far hill) doable? Eventually I spotted the control; it was down in a waterfall. I gingerly climbed down the steep bank, dibbed, and scrambled out the other side, mostly on all fours.
I dropped in to the valley, passing walkers going up the other way. A Dalmatian gave me a friendly sniff, most people avoided the mud splattered madwoman wobbling down the hill at the then with neither Grace nor speed. I managed a jog along the dam but the climb up the other side started slow, got slower at the Binn Green carpark where angry motorists were fighting over car parking spaces, and then became a hand over fist scramble up to the crags above. It was slow and exhausting. I had also managed to lose my second packet of nutrition somewhere. I was getting really tired. As I crested the top ridge I realised I wasn’t going to have the time tk make the next point and back…. All that climb for nowt. I searched for a better line off the top and slowly picked my way down. I was annoyed.
Back at reservoir level I ran it in slowly to the sailing club, annoyingly arriving 20 minutes early. I’d taken 4 hours to cover 10 miles with climbs, descents and flats being ridiculously hard work. I am grossly unfit is all I can say. I was a bit shell shocked when I first walked in, but a cup of tea revived me enough to make conversation with Kiloran who had smashed it! She’s taken a much more canny route, picking points with high scores abs good landmarks, and using a compass to good effect. Perhaps one day I will master this. 
No comments:
Post a Comment