Sporting achievements often become media stories, but
generally these are limited to mainstream sports or have a celebrity element to
them. But for 7 days in June 2014 the
British public became enthralled by the almost super-human effort of fell runner
Steve Birkinshaw. Fell running is a niche sport, and most people are unaware it
even exists. But each day of his heroic effort Steve Birkinshaw was featuring in news
bulletins and being discussed on social media around the country.
The Wainwrights record required him to summit all 214
Wainwright fells, covering a distance of 519km with 35,000m of ascent over the
challenging terrain of the Lake District - that’s over 12 marathons and climbing
more than 4 times the height of Everest. This had to be completed in less than
7 days, 1 hour and 25 minutes in order to break the 1986 record held by
fell running legend Joss Naylor.There in No Map in Hell is his account of this incredible achievement. It is a captivating read and I am honoured to be part of the blog tour to promote Steve's book. The book covers his general running background but is primarily about his record breaking round and features some wonderful extracts from others involved in the attempt such as his wife Emma (as can be seen in the extract below). The style of the book is a reflection of the fell running community and you get a real sense of the type of people fell runners are.
To get your hands on a copy of the book go HERE.
Here is an exclusive extract from There is No Map in Hell. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.
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SECTION 19 Mosedale Road End to Dodd Wood Car Park
DETAIL 37.5km, 2,200m ascent, 17 Wainwrights
SUPPORT TEAM Martin Indge, Chris Baynham-Hughes, Jim Mann, Paul ‘Corny’
Cornforth and Nic Davies
TIMES Start time 10.02, end time 19.35, break at end of leg 01.08
Mosedale Road End with the daunting prospect of a long section over the Northern Fells to come. Everything hurts. |
This is a crucial ten-hour section over the northern fells. But cleverly
my
support team decide to split it into two with an additional stop above
Whitewater Dash. This is about an hour’s walk uphill from the nearest
road, so it is great they are happy to do it as it makes the section
much
easier mentally.
Emma: ‘I have the day off work and the children are at school so I finally have
the chance to run with Steve; it is lovely to get up Carrock Fell and I am
encouraged to see how well Steve is running once he gets warmed up. Maybe there
is a chance he can complete it now. I would love to run further, but I have a
long shopping list of things to buy including Torq gels (about all he is eating
whilst running now), cream and dressings for his feet. I also have a heap of
sweaty running clothes to wash and food to cook.’
It is really nice that Emma has time to join
me up Carrock Fell. She has been incredibly busy sorting out everything, so the
fact she has managed to get an hour and a half on the fells with me is great.
It also gives her a chance to see me when I am going well and happy out on the
fells rather than at the support points when I am at my worst.
As
we go along this section it begins to dawn on me how many people are interested
in my progress. I was expecting some interest amongst the fell-running
community, but the interest is much wider than I ever imagined and growing
rapidly. The mixture of the trackers, the regular blogs, television and social
media mean that thousands of people are now really excited about my progress.
As well as people watching my progress from their computer screens, they are
also coming out to see me. So when we arrive on High Pike someone comes up and
gives a generous donation. Then some fell runners who I recognise but do not
know turn up. These are Paul Dobson, Andrew Martindale, and Paul and Chris
Wilson, and they run with us for a couple of hours. From the top of Brae Fell I
can see the next top, Longlands Fell, and there is a massive flag on top. It
seems a bit strange and we all wonder why someone would have done that. When we
get there we find that it has been put up for me by Jeff Ford, who lives
locally and is chair of the Mountain Heritage Trust. I had never met Jeff
before, but like so many other people he had been following my progress and
came out to give me some support.
Having a five-minute power nap on the summit of Great Cockup on day 6. |
My
afternoon dip happens as we approach Great Cockup. I suddenly come over
extremely sleepy; I am walking along barely able to keep my eyes open. The guys
try pouring water over my head and talking to me but it is no use. I need to
sleep. So, on the top of Great Cockup I decide I have to have a power nap. I
lie down with a rucksack as a pillow and close my eyes. Meanwhile Jim Mann
decides to fill in the time by running around with the tracker so it will make
a picture on the OS map that thousands of people are following on the Open
Tracking website. After five minutes I suddenly get up and start moving again –
unfortunately Jim does not have time to finish his picture. I feel slightly
less sleepy but for the next hour I am still really struggling to stay awake. I
feel like I am midway between being awake and asleep.
The
descent off Little Calva to the track above Whitewater Dash is heathery without
any real path. I place my foot badly on many occasions and let out a little
scream as the shoes press on my blister. I am desperate to get through this
descent but I am even more worried about the descent from Ullock Pike at the
end of this section, which is even rougher with taller heather and no path at
all. It is good to finally reach the track and see the support team of Jon
Bardgett and Mel and Kate Culleton-Wright. I have food, drink and more foot
treatment and another little doze.
The
big climb up Skiddaw goes well and at the summit there are more people looking
out for me, together with Al Lee and Rob Jarman doing some filming. After all
the difficulties of the first two days it is great that Al and Rob have finally
caught up with me when the tops of the fells are clear of cloud. After Skiddaw
there is a long out-and-back to Lonscale Fell and as we approach this top Andy
Blackett turns up with some ice creams. He has carried them up from Keswick in
an ice bag – a really nice surprise. The ice cream goes down very well on such
a nice warm afternoon, although with my lack of coordination a lot of it ends
up on my face.
As
we approach Ullock Pike I have a discussion with Scoffer, who has turned up
after work, and Corny about the route down that I am dreading. We decide it
will be better to go back over Long Side, contour round Carl Side and then down
the path, which is a bit longer than my planned route but avoids the knee-deep
heather. I can run the descent, so it’s a good route. There are even more
people on the top of Dodd, the last top in this section. I was planning on
taking the north-west ridge off Dodd but again we make a sensible decision and
decide to take the longer route which goes along a good track. I descend well
running at nine-minute-mile pace according to Bill Williamson’s GPS.
Crossing a beck before the climb on Knott with Martin Indge and Chris Lines. |
There
are around twenty people waiting for me as we get to Dodd Wood car park,
including Emma, Matthew and Hannah. I arrive there one minute up on my
schedule, although as usual I will leave quite a bit behind due to my
longer-than-anticipated stops. We follow the normal routine of getting washed
and straight in the campervan. Eating is getting progressively harder; anything
even slightly warm feels really painful as it goes down my throat. Tepid soup
seems to be best at the moment. I don’t know what Mel is doing to my feet but
it is absolute agony – the worst yet. With Matthew and Hannah present I try
really hard not to scream out in pain and show them how terrible it is, but I
cannot help a few squeaks. Eventually, it is so painful I grab a towel to
muffle the sound and so that they cannot see the tears in my eyes from the
pain. Matthew is really sweet and gives me a hug and says ‘it will be worth it
when you have finished’.
I
know my body is gradually disintegrating. Everything is becoming harder and
slower. My mind is gradually going and all I can focus on is just moving
forward – one foot in front of the other. I do not even try to think about
anything else, that is what my support team is for, and they do everything
brilliantly. Talking is sometimes hard, so if I no longer need my poles I just
throw them down as I know someone will pick them up for me. Luckily the end is
almost within reach and it is approaching a bit faster than the rate at which
my body is falling apart. But it is a close-run thing.