My wife hates me. There, I said it! I don’t know why but she clearly does. She knows that in my pursuit of adventure and running stupid distances, all she has to do is send me a link with a note that says, “this looks interesting” and by return I normally send her my entry receipt. And so it was, that sometime in Spring 2019, I entered the Montane Cheviot Goat Winter Ultra Run – England’s Loneliest Ultra.
I swear I could hear her clearly chuckle with evil overtones as she read my email confirming my descent into madness but now, alas, I was committed and at that time it still seemed a long way off with the intervening period populated by other Ultra marathons that I was already entered for.
Despite this, I think I was genuinely looking forward to the race. In truth, I think I was getting off on the fact that simply by describing the event to others the shear looks of horror on their faces made me want to do it even more!
So… what was inducing the fearsome look of horror?
Well let’s start with the basics… on the Runultra website, they have a grading system that progresses from Beginner through Intermediate, Advanced, Expert and on to Brutal. They have this event listed as ‘Brutal’.
It was to take place on the 7th December and so no surprises that it is badged a ‘Winter Run’. It’s a circa 54-mile unmarked course that must be self-navigated (more later) with a fair share of relatively achievable peaks along the way that in total amount to around 3800m of elevation (according to my Garmin).
Reading reviews and listening to some awesome podcasts (linked below) covering the event made clear that a big part of the challenge would be the bogs yielding waste deep liquid mud.
I mentioned the look of horror it frequently solicited – this was normally followed with “are you mad?” or some such comment… “why would you punish yourself like this?”.
Regardless I felt it was ‘doable’ as it ‘wasn’t my first rodeo’. With appropriate training I would be in good shape as I can use a map and compass and can cover the distance… my gap would be to train for the boggy climbs and weather. Well at least that was the start of the gap…
Gonna need a bigger pack! (And other related kit choices)
I am used to running in ultra-events requiring self-sufficiency and a list of mandatory items but these would normally fit in my 5l or even an 8l Salomon Vest. This event had a slightly more expansive list of required kit and that necessitated a larger hydration vest. I opted for the 13l Ultimate Direction Mountain Vest 4.0 which could easily consume my mandatory kit, phone, food and water.
I ended up with a kit load that included the emergency items of spare food, and dry top and bottoms which were to be packed in a waterproof bag within my race pack for emergencies only. The theory here was that If you get into difficulty, it could be a few hours before someone gets to you, so runners needed to have spare dry clothing to change into before climbing into their mandatory survival bag until rescue.
I packed a spare pair of running tights into a ziplock bag, and a spare base layer packed into another ziplock bag to ensure I met the requirements here. Add to this waterproof jacket and trousers, a spare warm layer suitable for the weather, head torch (and spare with spare batteries), buff, gloves, whistle and water for two hours of running. One final item was a compass to facilitate navigation with the supplied waterproof map.
With bogs at the front of my mind I also decided I was to run in my usual Injinji toe socks but would throw a pair of Sealskinz waterproof socks over the top. I chose the knee length variant and they were snug under my running tights. I added a pair of Altra Lone Peak 4 shoes into the mix and topped them off with Montane gaiters which kept the random debris and grit out of the top of my shoes… My feet were dry and warm for the duration despite the shoes regularly filling up with rancid bog water.
I wore Montane Thermal Running Tights (excellent – toasty tights with just enough compression but warm and breathable) and a WAA Ultra long sleeve top (the one with five pockets to allow a stash of food and stuff to be added outside of my vest). This was a mistake. The top didn’t work for me and the pockets, even with limited contents in, just didn’t stay in place with the top dropping down my lower back. I emptied it during the run and stashed everything in my pack. I topped everything off with my trusty Hoka buff and an Inov8 thermal beanie and gloves. Good to go!
So as not to bore readers too much, I have put my full kit list at the back end of this write up just in case it helps someone next year!
Registration – last chance to pull out.
In the weeks ahead of the Goat, a fair few people suffered unfortunate injuries or developed other reasons why they could no longer participate in the race. On the Facebook group for the runners of the Goat, this became a little bit of a recurring theme. I think I may have upset one or two as in my attempt at some gallows’ humour, I posted that due to pressure from my wife, a lack of reasonable excuse and a clear case of temporary (some say permanent) insanity, I would be running in the event come what may.
Of course, this backfires when you arrive at registration full of self-doubt… Why the self-doubt? During the afternoon of registration and whilst travelling up to Northumberland, I’d received a message from the organisers with additional routing information due to the impending severe weather expected from Storm Atiyah and forecast for the event. They provided a neat escape route to the finish from the top of the Cheviot. The only issue was getting the damn thing on my Garmin!
So, into registration and a quick but proper kit check by Mountain Rescue staff (they marshal the event and make what could otherwise be a dangerous event very safe – hats off to them). Race number and drop bag issued, t-shirt in hand (yes… ahead of the event! This just means you have even more pressure to finish if you ever want to wear the damn thing in public) and a quick photo so your drone tracker will have your mugshot next to it for the hordes of friends and family who are tracking your prospective demise online and you’re done.
Perhaps my wife does actually love me after all?
Having moaned all the way up about how difficult the event would be I was pleasantly surprised when we arrived at the cottage my wife had duly booked for our family to stay in whilst I raced and lo and behold, it was ten feet from the start line! Result. Half an hour extra in bed in the morning and I could quite literally crawl there after I finished… if I finished!
Was this by design? No, it was a pure fluke but I can’t knock her for it as it really did provide a bit of comfort knowing that when finished I would have somewhere comfortable to get my head down for the night.
So… registration done, fed and watered at Ingram Café (right behind the start line) and off to bed for an early night. Luckily, I thought I’d check all my kit one last time and as I did, another communique arrived from Race Control indicating that due to the weather system closing in on us being more severe than anticipated, the organisers were now going to run the event in reverse to allow us to get off the highest part of the mountain earlier and thus make rescue easier if there were issues later on in the race.
All this talk of rescue just sets you a little on edge but I didn’t let it get to me as I knew that Mountain Rescue would be out there if needed and I was confident of my own abilities.
To the start line via the briefing.
I awoke with my usual state of what kit do I need and rushed through my first breakfast before getting dressed for the day and starting on my second breakfast!
The briefing was interesting… watching what seemed like 250 plus runners cramming into a village hall designed for around 100 at the very most, but it was a quick briefing before we headed to the start line which was good as unlike many others, I’d stowed my waterproof in my pack as I thought it would be too hot in the initial climb. Now, however, I was quickly getting cold!
I was carrying my poles on my vest for that moment where they may be required (normally if my Achilles blows up), but many runners were starting with poles deployed. I had always been coached only to deploy them if needed as you’d be quicker without them but I know this is actually all down to personal choice.
However, what it did mean was that as I stood on the start line, I took a hit to the groin as a result of another runner’s overzealous pole technique. I later found out that someone had been ‘speared in the foot’ not far from the start and required a rescue so these things can be a little bit too much like a weapon in some hands.
And then we were off!
A gentle warm up run (I was in the middle of the start pack and it was tough to push on at speed for me due to congestion and the terrain… that’s my excuse and I am sticking to it!), along the road as we followed a vehicle guiding us on the short piece of tarmac until we hit the off road section and then we were heading up! False summit upon false summit upon false summit… you get the gist; it was a little heart pounding at first until I settled into my preferred pace.
I engaged with a few glum looking people for a bit until I found someone I could talk to who was running at my pace. I thought this was a useful strategy as it was going to be a long race and this thing is described as England’s loneliest Ultra!
This worked well for now and we continued on up… looking back I could see a snake comprising head torch lights from the runners behind and the sight was amazing. We had started at 06.00 with an expectation that the sun would be up around 08.20 or so and as such, head torches were the order of the day.
The first five miles went quickly as we arrived somewhere near Dunmoor Hill, but it was nearly all climbing and then came the real bogs. These are known as the ‘bogs of eternal misery’. Look at the Facebook page for the event and you’ll note videos of runners waist deep in the bogs clawing their way out in the pitch black of night… joy. These bogs go on for miles and they are tough to traverse.
I used a technique that was based on the scientific principle of ‘running on custard’… yes, you read that right… ‘running on custard’. The theory is that if you run fast, the surface tension helps you to get across the bog without getting sucked under… I kept telling myself this would work as it does with custard and whilst there were times when it did, there were just as many where it didn’t!
One such occasion happened with few others around me and I was in up to my waist in a bog. My right leg, whilst free to move didn’t help as my left leg was stuck in suction within the bog. I had to wait for someone to arrive. When they did, they duly jumped in behind me and pushed me out. Two minutes later, I was pulling the very same person out of a similar bog they had become stuck in. This camaraderie during a race such as this is the reason I love Ultra events.
So, no straight lines, no ‘best method’, no easy route through, guessing when to jump, when to run, and where to land, all became part of the gig. Get it wrong and you’re in up to your knees. Get it massively wrong and you’re in up to your waist! The bogs are unpredictable, deep, wet and smell like rotting corpses coated in something that smells very bad.
Getting through them felt good and I was soon climbing again. I stopped at Hedgehope Summit to put on my waterproof as it was getting very cold and the damp air/drizzle and fog was getting to me. Sheltering behind what looked like the ruin of a Bothy, I popped my waterproof on and busted out my Montane Prism mitts to warm my hands up as by now they were also getting very cold. It was now that I realised that the matched pace of my running companion was not really matched and I had to let him go on as I struggled to maintain his pace on the uphill sections.
The Cheviot
So, through the first set of bogs and now firmly ascending the Cheviot, you are soon approaching the event’s highest summit. The start line briefing had indicated a forecast wind of some 80-90MPH from Storm Atiyah for the evening (and hence we were getting this bit out the way early by running the course in reverse). However, it was still bloody windy!
Near the top, the course marshals were supporting us in atrocious conditions. The tents they had for shelter at Cairn Hill were being blown around like a scene from a disaster film, it was foggy and getting colder still! Keep in mind these guys had camped out overnight and would be there for the long hall, I was truly appreciative of them and in absolute awe! I ran the now gradual incline to reach the top of the Cheviot to get to the trig point and it was a steady flow of runners heading up, passing a steady flow of runners heading back down.
However, the path here was only really wide enough for one person so there was a lot of diving off the path and into the bogs… I gave way to those ahead of me already heading down the hill thinking others would do the same when it was my turn. I’m a short fella so I guess it was inevitable that I had to repeat my dodging tactic on the way down too as it appeared that size was a proxy for the right of way!
I got back down to the marshal point at Cairn Hill and made use of a Bothy occupied by Mountain Rescue where I then reorganised my kit and moved stuff from the rear pockets of my running top and stuffed the items into my hydration pack instead. In doing this the super attentive Mountain Rescue guys kept checking in on me to ensure I was OK… I was, right up until the point they attempted to send me back up the Cheviot rather than onwards to the next checkpoint!
And on I go…
It’s difficult to do this race justice in written form as there is a lot that is very repetitive, run downhill, jog the flats at the top and run/trek the uphill, slip, trip, faceplant, get stuck in a bog and then repeat! Having conquered the Cheviot the next big land mark was the halfway point at Barrowburn that would arrive 28 miles after the start.
Off I went, largely on my own as I had occupied a space between other runners… no one I could see in front and no one behind for some substantial distance.
I hit Windy Gyle, the first water refill station at 15 miles from the start and was grateful… running the course in reverse, I had expected water at ten miles and as such had over consumed on the initial climbs to the Cheviot. A little bit of banter asking for a lift in the quad, a quick refill and some food then off again…
Navigation became easier here as I caught a few people up and now we were onto a section of the Pennine Way on the notorious stone slabs. Many of these felt like they had a healthy dose of diesel pre applied and became treacherous. Somewhere not far from Buckham Bridge, I followed a runner who went down heavy between two slabs that were submerged and he disappeared up to his waist… he wasn’t happy and looked a little shocked. He waved me past and as he climbed out: BANG… I went down hard onto my face.
I cracked my cheekbone! If truth be told here, I was also concussed! I got up as he asked me if I was OK… I said I was but I had no idea where I was or what I was doing! I could hear some beeping and looked at my Garmin on my wrist. It took a little while to fathom out, but it was giving me a countdown to sending an SOS to my emergency contacts as it had detected I had been on the receiving end of a hard fall.
I couldn’t stop it in time and it sent the message… fortunately, its my wife who receives the messages. She took a quick look at the live tracker and could see I was still moving and chose to ignore the SOS! So much for that… Only afterwards did I understand this logic properly. The drone trackers for GPS tracking had an SOS button which allowed you to bang out in case of an emergency and most people assumed that if needed, either I would press this, or someone else would, having come to my assistance.
I looked around and upon being asked if I was OK again, I thought I had better make like a shepherd and ‘get the flock out of there’. It was around another three miles or so before my wits started to return to me and I realised I was running this bonkers race!
I made good progress but now had no one in front and no one behind me! Crap! Still slightly dazed and now with my watch telling me I was off track I slowed down and double checked the map. I was convinced I was OK but I had no one to follow and no one to confer with!
Eventually, another runner caught me up as I proceeded at a modest pace attempting to stay on the course. We compared notes and ran together for a while. Some chat came in handy now just to help get my bearings back. I was running with Tania, a Mexican Personal Trainer from (I think) Glasgow.
We continued on our own for some time until we started to gently descend and eventually came across a photographer! A sure sign we were at least close to the track we should be on during an event of this type. After having posed for the inevitable snaps whilst running, we started to descend more aggressively and it was clear we were not too far from Barrowburn, the half way point and the source of a hot mug of soup and a chance to take on more supplies from our drop bags.
At the bottom of the track there was a car park with a small number of vehicles in it and to my surprise, my wife and children were there! This spurred me on and I pressed ahead convincingly thinking I must be around the corner from Barrowburn.
Tania and I got to the car park and separated whilst I had a chat with my family. I have to confess that whilst I was on a high upon seeing them, I rapidly became quite depressed as it was explained to me that I needed to cover around another five miles on the undulating tarmac before I’d get to the halfway point. Crap! Seemed like it would take forever.
I jogged making slow progress and eventually caught up with two other runners on a run/jog/walk cycle dictated by the ups and downs of the terrain and headed to the half way point where I would once again catch up with my family.
Halfway house.
The halfway point was marked by a place where we could take shelter and grab something hot, sort some technical stuff out like changing kit etc.
I was clearly still suffering a little concussion… I grabbed a mug of soup, drank the liquid leaving the veg, necked a bottle of Lucozade, didn’t even go in my drop bag and then left forgetting to refill my water bottles! Crap!
I left Barrowburn on my own and headed uphill towards another series of blind summits! 28 Miles down and good to go and still daylight!
Hearts of Darkness
So… still daylight when the summit levelled out, a quick chat with a marshal at the top of the hill and then off again. I played cat and mouse with a couple of runners I would catch up with on the uphill and lose on the flats… this continued until we reached another photographer and after another quick smile, it was onwards and upwards once again.
This seemed too good to be true. I was making good to strong progress and felt OK. Still had some liquid (spare 500ml of plain water inside my pack) and was by now working my way through the caffeine infused gummy bears. It was starting to get dark by now and navigation was beginning to get tougher.
I made friends again with someone else and we chatted as we ran and continued to make goodish progress. We compared notes on the navigation and eventually made our way to the water point at Alwin Valley. I was desperately in need of water by now and so made sure I had all three 500ml bottles filled. As I was doing this, I heard my new companion say, “I am heading off’. I foolishly replied, “No worries, I’ll catch you up” and carried on with what I was doing. I think that was probably the last time I saw him!
I left the water station and could see head torches ahead of me and behind me… this didn’t last. The light in front disappeared into the storm and the light behind couldn’t be seen at all! I was still pressing ahead.
After an hour or so, I was fully on my own again and Storm Atiyah was in full flow by now with the wind and rain up to the promised high speeds and it was pitch black with nothing but the now fading light from my head torch. It started to rain even harder. Not normal rain… no this was special rain that came in horizontally! Like a thousand bee stings it was coming in really hard… all you could hear was the wind.
I felt weak against it as it buffeted me around and made my progress tricky. This was only the half of it… the route wasn’t following a path and before long I was having to lift my legs really high to climb over knee high gorse. At least it was starting to level out and had fewer uphill sections.
Then the bogs returned! They returned with a vengeance! It was now slow going… I carried on pressing ahead and miraculously could see a light ahead which I latched onto. I was gaining on it… still pitch black with a limited visibility through mist/fog/rain etc. but I was definitely catching it up.
I eventually caught up and it was a group of four runners who knew each other and were working together. Bizarrely, one of the runners was Tania whom I had met earlier and who left Barrowburn ahead of me. The group appeared to be led by a local runner who knew the territory quite well: this helped with the bogs but the going was slow and my head torch was failing. I told the group I was going to hunker down for five minutes and change batteries and grab a Mars bar.
I sat with my back to the howling wind and started to deal with my admin. First problem was when I tipped out the batteries from my head torch. There were three. Two went in one way and the third another but I had no idea which was which and couldn’t see the guide in the pitch black having neglected to locate and fire up my second head torch! Crap!
Inevitably, the last combination I tried was the right one. So, I had light again and scoffed my Mars bar then off again.
Back on my own. Off I went and was moving quickly. Back to ‘running on custard’ to get over the bogs. With 50/50 success, I got through some bogs with ease and others… well it was carnage. Still raining… still windy… it was bonkers.
This carried on for some time before I got to the next Marshall at Bloodybush Edge. He asked me questions to check I was OK and I followed his instructions… run downhill following the fence line and descend to the track at the bottom. I could see a few head torches behind me as I descended the hill. I moved quickly, very quickly and then BANG… I ran straight off the edge of a ledge with a three-foot drop! I landed in what can only be described as a small Christmas tree! Crap!
I got up but had no idea how to move forward, I was surrounded by bog and badly uneven waterlogged surfaces. I climbed a fence and tried the other side but that didn’t help. I eventually found a path through and carried on. The torches behind had been catching me and I thought they would join me at some time soon.
They didn’t. I pulled ahead but they must have had an incident as I completely lost them as a tail and then I saw Mountain Rescue heading fast up the hill behind me on a quad bike.
I got to the bottom and sensing that the next section was more sheltered from the wind, I pushed my pace and went for it.
Water, water everywhere, but not a drop to drink!
By now I was running low on water again. Still pressing ahead and wading through steams and ‘muddy puddles’ I eventually caught the group of four I had been with earlier. We arrived at the last water station at Low Bleakhope and I refilled a single bottle before heading out on my own. Ten miles to go!
In my head I thought I was there… done and dusted. No drama, after all, it’s only ten miles.
I was moving quickly but had neglected to manage my pace and started to tire quite quickly… I was also struggling now with limited water. I got to a point where a Marshall at Ewarty Shank gave me instructions and I was just plain confused. He basically told me to turn right go through the farm and follow the track… yep I was confused… it was time for some hallucinations.
I slowed down, drank a bit more and had some caffeine. It helped but then the navigation was getting a little tough again. I was caught up by a runner who told me that he’d recce’d the route earlier in the week and that whilst slightly longer, there was a better route through, so I followed him. Unfortunately, I couldn’t keep up and ended up stranded off the course and with no idea where he went. I had to double back and had lost some time. During this time, the group of four I’d been with earlier came through and passed me by staying on the correct track so there is definitely a lesson there!
The wind was getting up again and I kept pushing. Now on my own again I pressed ahead and counted the miles down (in units of one KM as it felt like I was making more progress). I followed the route and was beginning to hallucinate again. I found myself talking to inanimate objects at the point I started to stumble… less than five KM to go and my left leg gave way and I fell hard onto my chest. Unfortunately, I had still got my running poles stowed on my vest and the carbon pole which broke my fall also cracked a rib!
It really hurt (Still does)!
I carried on and ran/walked/ran as best I could whilst whining about the pain and squeezing last drops of water from my bottles. I turned right and miraculously could see a cottage in the distance that resembled the one I was staying in… was this it… the finish?
I ran down the hill but realised my head torch battery was dead again… yes it really had been around another three hours since I last replaced them. I got to the bottom and could see a blindingly bright light. It was globe shaped and in front of the cottage I was staying in. It was my family! My youngest daughter was holding her reading lamp! They hadn’t seen me as the light from my head torch was so poor.
I pretty much got level with them and announced myself before they realised I was there. They ran with me for the last 50 metres to the finish but amusingly, my youngest pointed out we were close to the edge of the path and there was a swampy stream at the side of the path and in attracting my attention, completely blinded me and nearly sent me into the stream!
I finished. It was just after midnight. Despite being temporarily blinded and cold, I finished quite strong! I don’t know why or how, but I just did. The Event Director personally greeted me and shook my hand/handed me a medal. It was a nice touch. He walked me to the café and personally got me a bowl of soup. A really nice touch. They took my picture and I sat almost in silence with my family as they told me I’d done well.
I wasn’t so sure… I was somewhere else and didn’t know where… I was hallucinating and getting increasingly hypothermic. I needed to go home and get in a hot bath! This is exactly what I did but not before I punished my wife for lining this event up by making her help me out of the world’s worst smelling bog infused clothing in the porch of the cottage. I stank. My kit stank, my pack stank… It was horrible!
Into the bath for me, a binge on water and then off to bed. I woke around 04.00 and people were still finishing. I, however, started hallucinating again and was convinced I was being ‘mugged off’ by a knot in the wood of a door frame that kept taking the micky out of me by telling me that I hadn’t yet finished! Yep… Say hello to the world of Ultra running!
Epilogue
The course was brutal. Technically and physically, tough, difficult, challenging and at times so incredibly lonely. Storm Atiyah – the weather, made the brutal course tougher still. I made mistakes with hydration, navigation and my nutrition. No real kit mistakes other than my WAA Ultra shirt. I’d covered 56 miles or 90KM. According to Garmin, I’d covered 3,800 metres of elevation (12,500 ft). None of this mattered as it could have been a thousand more or less and I think I would still have performed the same! It was hard.
I think around 385 people had entered, not sure how many actually started but I think that something like 237 finished. We had some elite runners in there with the first, Galen Reynolds finishing in daylight! We had John Kelly a Barkley Marathons veteran finisher and Nicky Spinks, an inspiring British runner whose husband thinks she is bonkers! I spent time with some great people, and the chap from the start section? I finished around quarter of an hour after him so my pace probably was pretty much the same as his overall!
I’d trained hard for the event. I’d covered the distance before, and I had covered the elevation before… this together with practicing nutrition and testing kit meant I thought I was in good shape… I still have gaps… things I can work on during 2020 and with my first event coming up in January, I’ll soon get to put these lessons into practice.
Special Thanks
These go to my wife and family… their encouragement, support, tolerance and sense of humour… particularly on the several other Ultra events and 50KM runs I undertook during 2019.
I’m still in awe of the North Tyne Mountain Rescue Team who provided Marshalls for the event. Awesome… just plain awesome… the feeling of being safe is important on races of this kind where you really can get into proper trouble. Every time you met one of their team, they asked you questions, testing your ability to go on… they had great humour and committed to spend the night on those damn hills in terrible weather that we later found was 56mph minimum and gusted for most of the night at 80-90mph.
Special thanks go to Cold Brew Events and Montane for putting on an awesome event and looking after us with many personal touches… This felt like a great event, well organised that it destined to become a cult event on the Ultra circuit.
Finally, thanks to anyone who randomly engaged me or helped me. That’s what I love about Ultra running… it’s the runners, the community and the people that push themselves through thresholds others struggle with… You’re a great bunch of people. See you all out there in 2020.
Geek Stats
My Garmin indicated I had been moving for 16.15 hours and my official finish time was some two hours longer. Half an hour of that was at Barrowburn but the rest would almost certainly be down being stuck in Bogs or stopping to navigate or to take on water. The winner completed it in just under ten hours! Hats off to all my fellow finishers with the last coming in at a shade under 24 hours.
- Pre event comms… 5 out of 5.
- RaceHQ Organisation and Pre-Race Briefing… 5 out of 5.
- Course Map/Directions… 5 out of 5.
- Marshalling… 5 out of 5.
- Food and hydration at RaceHQ/CP… 4 out of 5.
- Medal, mementos and results… 5 out of 5.
- Course difficulty… was it a real challenge: 5 out of 5.
- Overall… 34 out of 35
Kit Appendix
- Montane Thermal Via Trail Tights
- Injinji Crew Toe Socks
- SealSkinz Waterproof Socks
- WAA Ultra Running Shirt
- Inov8 All Terrain Gloves
- Inov8 Extreme Thermal Beenie
- Montane VIA Trail Gaiters
- Altra Lone Peak 4.0 shoes
- Garmin Fenix 6 Pro
- Silva Ninox 3 Head Torch
- Montane Prism Mitts (initially in pack)
- Inov-8 Mens AT/C Raceshell FZ Waterproof Jacket (initially in pack)
- Hoka Buff (Montane gave us a smart branded Cheviot Goat Buff at registration).
- Ultimate Direction Mountain Vest 4.0 (with Whistle and 3 x 500ml Soft Flasks)
- Montane Minimus Waterproof Trousers (in pack)
- Under Armour Base Layer (in Ziplock bag – in pack)
- 2XU Thermal Tights (in Ziplock bag – in pack)
- Mountain Hardwear Ghost Whisperer Hooded Down Jacket (Extra Thermal Layer – in pack)
- Maurten Hydrogel and Drink Mix Fuel
- Caffeine Gummy Bears
- 4 x Party sized Mars Bars
- 2 x Packs of Cliff Bloks
- Silva Compass
- Energizer Lithium AAA Batteries x 6
- Silva Ninox 3 Head Torch (spare in pack)
- Apple iPhone 11 and battery case (with ‘Viewranger’ and ‘What Three Words’ installed for an emergency)
- Life Systems Emergency Bivvy
- Black Diamond Carbon Fibre Z Poles
Useful Links
Awesome Podcast recorded by two returning Goat veterans
- Before the event: https://peforgrownups.podbean.com/e/season-2-episode-2-the-cheviot-goat-winter-ultra-run-2019-part-i-expectations/
- After the event: https://peforgrownups.podbean.com/e/season-2-episode-3-the-cheviot-goat-winter-ultra-run-2019-part-ii-reality-ft-wim-stephenson/
Event itself: https://coldbrew.events/cheviot-goat/
North Tyne Mountain Rescue: https://www.notmrt.org.uk/
Cold Brew Events: https://coldbrew.events/
