The South Wales Traverse Saturday 21st May 2005

“The organs get moved towards the top of the back, and take a while to move back”. Sometimes you learn more about the inner workings of sheep than you really want to, as we watched it struggle to get away after being rescued by Ed from spending the rest of it’s life on it’s back. We had being going for less than 10 minutes, it was going to be one of those days.

Within minutes we had split into 3 groups, the first one of Jules, Rhys and Dan, the second one of Alan and John and then me and Ed, but then we were taking the time to rescue sheep, repair dry stone walls, stuff like that. OK I made the last bit up, probably sour grapes ‘cos we were the ones that didn’t make it.

It’s funny how optimistic you can be about the weather, I mean we couldn’t see anything from the moment we set off till we descended Fan Hir two and and half hours later, but spirits were still high and we made good time. I didn’t even put on my cag until my denial of the fact it was pissing down allowed me to get completely drenched. Perhaps I was still half asleep, I certainly hadn’t slept too well as a result of nerves, an early night and the fact that not having run for 3 days I wasn’t really tired. The months of dropping into bed exhausted after yet another hill run were over.

Jo watched us pass swiftly through at the minor road at the bottom of Fan Hir and then Fan Gyhirych went well and the rain stopped for a while. Algy was waiting between Fan Nedd and Fan Llia with food and drink we had supplied him with earlier. As we ran along the ridge after Fan Llia I remember taking my cag off and putting it in my pack without stopping – seconds saved in the early stages that contrast with the minutes lost later feeling rough or struggling against the elements on Waun Fach.

At the Storey Arms Ruth was waiting with the camper van and we sat in near sunshine talking to Phil. Looking back on this kind of run there are always things you would do differently, some things because they were little mistakes and occassionally because they were just major blunders. What happened next was firmly in the latter category. I even remember saying to Phil “this is a bit of a risk, but can you take my backpack, I’ll just take a bumbag for the next sections until Lyngynidr". And so it was we watched a zero visibility heavy squall heading towards us as we walked up from Y Garn to Duwynt, with my cagoule in Phil’s car and my only clothing being shorts and 2 Helly Hansons. It can’t be that bad I thought. Unfortunately it was bad enough, and despite Phil loaning me his lightweight cag and hat and gloves, when I turned to ask Ed how he was the answer was “ Not good”. Ed had a cagoule and Helly but was still soaked and getting cold. Everyone around us seemed surprisingly well dressed and complete sets of waterproofs seemed to have appeared everywhere. There wasn’t much evidence of the T shirt and shorts tourist caught out by the weather – except us. After a flash of lightening followed almost immediately by a crash of thunder lasting about a minute we slid down the path off Pen Y Fan in a near waterfall and I suggested that going down the Roman Road was an escape option. We could see Alan and John bravely battling up Cribyn, but at the time it just seemed madness to push on. We went straight for the Roman Road, with Ed phoning Melissa who was at Abercynafon to get some help if possible as Sam was there as well with a car. The reception kept failing so it took a few calls, plus the driving rain and the emotion of it all making everything more difficult, but Sam agreed to meet us at the Nuadd Reservoir and we jogged down, still cold but with the weather improving. “Look at your hands” I said to Ed as his hands looked red and swollen. Then I looked at mine and they were the same. We had 10 minutes to feel sorry for ourselves at the end of the road by the reservoir before Sam appeared. I was feeling annoyed now that the ‘about to die’ feeling had gone, maybe I don’t need to give up. I told Ed what I was thinking, but he didn’t want to carry on. Perhaps he thought we had lost too much time, which did in fact turn out to be the case. Sam got into the spirit of the madness straightaway, and completely unphased by these idiots who phone for rescue one minute and then announce they are going back for more of the same, he started a search of the car for dry clothes, and even took off the coat he was wearing and gave it to me, as well as blocking the single track road for a good ten minutes while I struggled to change.

And then I was jogging back up the Roman Road, and reached Cribyn having lost 90 minutes, moving me from 40 minutes ahead of my 24 hour schedule to 50 minutes behind. Still all was not lost with some positive thinking. But I think the next stretch was, in some ways, my downfall. I really needed to eat and drink more, as what should have been a 3 hour section with half a litre of water turned into nearly 5 hours, eating only one energy bar and a few bits of chocolate, and drinking between half a litre and a litre of water. By the time I got to Abercynafon I was doing OK time wise, but after a ten minute stop for food I felt a bit sick on the climb afterwards, and this was the pattern for the next few hours. Ed walked up from Abercynafon with me and with a near perfect route I gained time to Cefn Yr Ystrad despite not moving very well. The next section was a few minutes slower than expected though and as I arrived in Lyngynidr the rain began to fall again.

Lots of folk seemed to be around at Lyngynidr, the Red Lion being a popular support point. Chris and Zsu-zsa were there with sandwiches and news of other runners. Dan, Ryys and Jules had been through at about 17:00 and John and Alan an hour later. I arrived at 19:45 so all was not yet lost. But for some reason I started to think it was. I phoned Martin Lucas, who had agreed to run the last Black Mountain section with me, to say I was still going but there was little chance of gaining lost time. It seemed a slow jog then walk to Cwm Gu, where Laure and my daughter Marianne were waiting, as well as Sam and Ed. Ed had announced he would go with me for the first (and worst) black mountain section. I think there was no doubt that if he hadn’t done that I would have given up. The rain was now heavy and getting worse, it was half past nine and just about dark and I still felt sick. The next 6 hours were embarrassingly slow – I don’t think I ran a single step. I’ve got a few excuses, the main ones being the driving horizontal rain and the swimming pool size puddles forming on the section after Waun Fach. Combined with the dark and low cloud it felt that just walking was a challenge although I was starting to feel better and I was warm enough since switching to my Buffalo coat. The descent from Pen Twyn Mawr took an hour as we slip-slided our way down in the mud and branches. Sam was waiting with a flashlight and tales to tell of how Dan had staggered in a few hours earlier, almost passed out in Sam’s car which he had kept running with the heater full on, to wake 5 hours later and dash off into the night saying “ I can still make it, there’s still 3 hours left”.

Martin looked a bit less than keen at the prospect of setting off in this weather so far behind schedule with no chance of completing within 24 hours, but he didn’t say anything as he set off dressed in what looked like oilskins. And if you’re dressed like that, what happens? It stops raining of course, and as the light increased as we splashed our way along the ridge from Chwarel Y Fan to Rhos Dirion, that’s exactly what happened. Martin kept me amused with tales of others attempts on the traverse, including the downfall of John Darby on one attempt caused by a diet of rice pudding and Orange Tango, leading to stomach cramps and rescue from the mountain. He then revealed that my attempt was almost certainly a record for the longest time taken for the traverse. Hmmm thanks Martin. At Rhos Dirion we stopped for a sunrise photo and I missed the chance to take off my rather too large borrowed over-trousers, a bad mistake as I tried to jog down to the Gospel Pass causing them to fall down every time I increased the pace to a shuffle.

A five minute break at the Gospel Pass was the chance to take off the over-trousers, down a gel and a bite of cake before picking up the pace on the climb to Hay Bluff and then managing to jog most of the rest of the way to Llanthony, spurred on at the end by the fact that even if I couldn’t break 24 hours, if I moved a bit quicker I would break 26. Which I did , just. Dan had been running hard after setting off about half and hour before me from the Grwyne valley, but on the Offa’s Dyke path his GPS told him that he wasn’t going to quite make it within 24 hours and he slowed to finish about an hour ahead of me. Considering he spent about 5 hours in Sam’s car in a near hypothermic state it was an amazing attempt. John and Alan had obviously made good time on the first black mountain section before the dark and bad weather slowed then up, and they finished in 22 hours at 4:00. Their pace had been very consistent considering the weather and they had done everything right, resulting in a really good run. Jules and Rhys as well had been very consistent and had finished in around 21 hours. Jules was met by someone from the Mountain Rescue at Llanthony at 3:00 who said they had been watching the lights on the hill and what was going on? Thinking better of a truthful answer Jules muttered something about it being a nice night for a run, and in a strange sort of way, it was.

Thanks to all helpers and especially relatives who not only had to put up with all the preparation but helped on the day as well.

Pete