Winter Spine Sprint 2022 Race Report
The Winter Spine Sprint is the harshest, hardest and most rewarding race I’ve entered, and as 2nd Female (16th overall) it’s my best result so far. With 2,500m ascent, it’s not the steepest or most technical, but it’s a true mountain race in the sense that every competitor must carry the kit to survive ‘Britain’s most brutal’ conditions on the hill including sleeping bag, bivvy, and stove amongst 30 compulsory items. Starting at 12pm at the start of January with a cut-off of 18 hours means the majority of the route is covered in the dark.
I’ve written a separate blog post with the Spine Sprint Full Kit List and Training Tips, this is a description of the race and route, broken into sections:
Edale-Snake Top The race started in a deluge of torrential rain, setting the tone for the wind, ice and thundersnow to come as I trotted along the flat track to the bottom of Jacob’s Ladder. The following ascent is the hardest of the route, especially bearing in mind that the pack is heaviest at the start, so I’d recce’d it with full kit twice. My strategy was to take it steady and not worry about the relatively slow pace, there’s more than enough time to speed up later along the route.
Jacob’s ladder was covered in a layer of glassy ice, and I would definitely have fallen several times without my poles. I was happy to see Kinder Low trig appear in the cloud, meaning the ascent was over and it was time to splash my way around the rocky trail to the Kinder Downfall. A quick assessment of the rushing state of the river revealed it was too dangerous to cross at the normal point. Instead I made a speedy crossing 20m up, using my poles for balance and to deflect huge chunks of ice floating swiftly towards the waterfall. From here there’s a steep descent until flagstones lead the way to the road crossing at Snake Top.
Bleaklow-Torside The normally clear path of the Pennine Way was submerged in running water, making it difficult to follow without constant wading through an icy torrent, which isn’t sustainable for hours. It required some scrambling up and down the sides of the groughs, and although this is a relatively short section, it’s the hardest to navigate without careful attention. I had intended to make it down to the Torside checkpoint in daylight, but had to stop to put my headtorch on at the top of the slippy descent to the reservoir.
Laddow Rocks-Standedge After a very quick stop to refill water bottles, I set off into the newly-fallen night for a peaceful ascent of Laddow Rocks. I made a mistake here, although I didn’t realise until a few hours later - I should have taken the time to put on my waterproof trousers and extra layer before the temperature dropped. I enjoyed following the dim circle of my headtorch up through the quiet night. This is a disorienting place. The path here is steep and narrow, and although I could hear the river rushing, it was invisible in the dark valley below. I was glad I’d recce’d this sectionin the summer, I felt comfortable and focused. Until the thundersnow struck.
Thundersnow At this point, an onslaught of torrential hail, horizontal snow, and gale force winds created a surreal strobe effect through the beam of my full-strength headtorch, and I had the sensation of running in a shaken snow-globe. The path was not obvious. River crossings, normally ankle deep became wades across thigh-deep icy torrents to an unknown exit point. With ice bouncing off my jacket and the wind buffetting my hood, I was physically rattled by a rumbling scraping sound that my brain couldn't register at first. I paused, and looking around saw flashes in the sky and a strung-out line of headtorches along the route behind, each runner stopped to witness the thundersnow. At this point the flagstones were flowing with several inches of icy water, and since it was that or the surrounding bog there was no escaping the cold. The only option was to keep going, and I made my way up to Black Hill trig, feeling elation and exhilaration at the extreme conditions, along with the need to move, and preferably faster. In the settling snow, the descent was a speed slither balanced by fast stabbing of the poles.
DIVERSION (to avoid Dean Clough in spate) - In any normal circumstances the diversion was well marked. In the cold and dark, it took my brain some time to process the large Montane Spine sign which sent runners optimistically downhill to follow an increasingly dispersed set of marker flags to an unknown wooden bridge. With no headtorches ahead, and tiny ones high up behind, it was an act of faith inspired by the need to move to keep warm. The welcome descent gave way to unwelcome, unplanned ascent, and I arrived at Wessenden Head very cold and behind schedule. I estimate that this added 45-60 mins to my race.
Wessenden Head-Standedge-Hebden Bridge From here the route is easy to follow, but conditions remained extreme. Snow had thawed to heavy rain with gusting winds across the reservoirs that blew me sideways and added severe windchill. At Standedge checkpoint I REALLY should have put my waterproof trousers and extra layer on, but with 20+ kilometers to go I felt that the end was in sight, and in my eagerness to keep moving I paid the price soon after. This whole section is very exposed, and I could feel that I was now too cold. At the White House checkpoint I struggled into my extra layer and drank warm tea. I knew with around 10km to go I had the focus and energy to complete the route, I just needed to make it to Stoodley Pike monument where I would descend out of the wind and cold. At the checkpoint I met Haydn, the runner ahead of me who had decided to wait so we could make it to the finish together. Grateful for the company and moral support, I slithered in his wake across the last of the icy and exposed reservoirs. It was hard to move, but Haydn set the pace with a swift speed hike which was in fact faster than my steady running pace!
From the monument we descended into Hebden Bridge, homely lights welcoming us across the valley and into the silent streets. A short trot through the town and the finish line was in our sights! It stayed there for a while as it happened to be at the top of quite a steep road, but finally, unbelievably, we crossed the line in a time of 14 hours and 43 minutes.
The Winter Spine Sprint is the ‘entry level’ Spine race, covering a mere 46 miles of the 268 mile Pennine Way. It was an extreme experience, and I loved every minute of it. Part of me can’t imagine taking this on over multiple days… part of me really, really wants to.