The Longmynd Hike

The Walk: For those of you who don't know what all the commotion is about, here is the lowdown on what is about to happen. The Longmynd Hike (which in Welsh means Long Mountain) is a 50-mile competition hike open to anyone aged 18 or over which takes place over the first weekend of October every year. The hike follows a set figure-of-eight route over the rugged countryside of South Shropshire and the Welsh Marches, with about 8,000 feet (2,900 metres) of climbing and covering eight summits:

1) Caer Caradoc (SO478954) — 469m
2) The Lawley (SO495975) — 377m
3) The Long Mynd (SO415944) — 516m
4) The Stiperstones (SO367986) — 536m
5) Earl's Hill (SO409048) — 320m
6) Corndon Hill (SO305969) — 513m
7) Black Rhadley Hill (SO343956) — 402m
8) Ragleth Hill (SO451917) — 393m

And visiting 17 checkpoints:

1) Caer Caradoc (SO478954) — 1.875 miles
2) The Lawley (SO495975) — 3.750 miles
3) High Park (SO449970) — 6.875 miles
4) Pole Bank (SO415944) — 10 miles
5) Bridges (SO393965) — 11.875 miles
6) Stiperstones (SO367986) — 15 miles
7) Earl's Hill (SO409048) — 20 miles
8) Bank Farm (SO389040) — 21.875 miles
9) Shelve (SO333959) — 26.875 miles
10) Corndon Hill (SO305969) — 30 miles
11) Woodgate Farm (SO311953) — 31.875 miles
12) Black Rhadley Hill (SO343956) — 35 miles
13) Stiperstones Car Park (SO369977) — 38.125 miles
14) Pole Cottage (SO413938) — 41.875 miles
15) Minton (SO430908) — 46.250 miles
16) Ragleth Hill (SO451917) — 48.125 miles
17) Church Stretton Hill (SO455944) — 50 miles

The start is at 13:00 hours on the Saturday from Church Stretton and the object is to visit all 17 checkpoints in order to have your tally card clipped and complete the course in under 24 hours — a doddle? So here we go, see you all in just under 24 hours' time (hopefully)!

With the sound of the klaxons the challenge event was underway. 500-plus hardened extreme ramblers including me, Muss, Roger, and Poddy headed off, destination checkpoint 1 on top of a BIG hill. Now then, I am not sure whether it's just me, but when I set off on one of these long-walk thingy-ma-jigs it takes a while to get into a rhythm and feel comfortable, and it certainly does not help to have a 260-metre clamber to the top of Caer Caradoc as a taster of things to come. Oh yes, I said it last year and no doubt will say it again for many a year to come: "Right then, so remind me again, why am I doing this?"

Fifteen minutes in, heading up Biggus Hillus (renamed thus as I was struggling with the Welsh pronunciation) and those strangely insane people — I believe they call themselves fell runners — were already way out in front. Honestly, how those guys do it is beyond me; in fact, why they do it is beyond me! As we neared halfway up Biggus Hillus, we said our first goodbye of the event. Roger was keen for a good time in this year's event as serious foot issues at Minton last year saw him retire with only 4 miles left to go. We had already chatted about Roger "going for it" and were more than happy as he stroed out leaving us in his dust. Hopefully this year he would not suffer the same injuries and would beat his previous times hands down. Should I tell you now how he fared? Nah, you will have to read on and find out at the end.

Soon we had reached checkpoint 1, Muss a little in front of me and Poddy because I am not the best on grassy hills. Wow, the views from here were amazing! It was such a clear day you could see for miles. In front of us was The Lawley with the first of the fell runners making their ascent to checkpoint 2, and a glimpse behind saw the mighty Ragleth Hill — hmmm, let's forget that one till much, much later.

Checkpoint 1 (Caer Caradoc) — 1.875 miles: A quick clip on the tally card from the marshal who recorded number and time, then it was downhill. I think it was at this point that me and Muss first realised how tightly Poddy's lycra trousers fitted him. Muss commented on how wrong it looked, something he would reiterate more than once on our adventure. Myself, I was a tad intrigued as to what manner of undergarments Mr Podmore was wearing, whose outline was becoming more and more visible by the minute.

As checkpoint 2 was at the top of The Lawley — another hill! — yes, you guessed it, we had another climb. And believe you me it was just as steep, if not steeper, than the first. As we approached the entrance gate to The Lawley the first of the fell runners were already down; keeping up this pace they should be on for an 8-hour finish, and as they approached we made way and wished them good luck.

Up we went, up and up, up, up, up and up, and up some more. "Blooming heck, are we not at the top yet?" I moaned to myself... or did I say it out loud? I am not sure. Muss again was ahead of me and Poddy, and hey, look who was coming towards us on his way to checkpoint 3 — it's only bloomin' Roger Musson! Looking like a gazelle with a big beaming smile, he was having fun, the lad was. Just time for a quick word of good luck and he was gone.

We caught up with Muss about a minute from checkpoint 2 as he was making his descent. "I'll see you on the road at the bottom," he said as we passed on our way to our next tally clip.

Checkpoint 2 (The Lawley) — 3.75 miles: Tally clip taken care of, we were now en route to join Muss on the road at the bottom of the hill. As me and the Podmeister skipped down The Lawley we passed another old friend Mr Luiz Broz on his way to the top. Deciding that the guys he was with were too slow he had better speed up, which he did, and by Pole Bank he had passed us heading for a quick time. I commented to Poddy that I wondered how many of those taking part would finish, as at around 4 miles in some were looking decidedly knackered to say the least.

True to form, Muss was waiting on the road near to Comley Farm where we headed across the fields, through Heath Coppice to Heath Farm, and on to the A49. Shortly after crossing the A49 we crossed the railway where I believe I also showed Muss and Poddy the correct way to negotiate a stile. In return, as we walked along the side of Gogbatch en route to High Park, Poddy showed us once again why wearing tight-fitting lycra trousers is not the best look. Soon we were back on tarmac again and the painful trek to checkpoint 3.

Checkpoint 3 (High Park) — 6.875 miles: High Park checkpoint, not one of my favourites as it is neither at the top nor the bottom of a hill. It is kind of like in the middle so there is nothing to look forward to except another 3-mile slog uphill. Oh, never mind me, I wouldn't be me if I weren't moaning about hills! Anyway, things were looking decidedly better this year as I was offered some Haribo jelly sweets from two young girls who were helping out on the hike. It's people like these two young girls, the marshals, and all the other helpers at the refreshment points that make the hike what it is (bloody marvellous). So for once in a limbo situation I was feeling happy, and if I was not then I just chomped on another Haribo.

With Haddon Hill on our left we continued along The Port Way, past The Jack Mytton Way, Calf Ridge, and some of the most spectacular scenery you could ever hope to see until we finally reached Pole Bank — a small tent and a humungous radio antenna.

Checkpoint 4 (Pole Bank) — 10 miles: Leaving Pole Bank it was all downhill to Bridges, and as Muss stretched his legs I chatted with Poddy as we made our way through the sodden grass towards Priory Cottage. Now then, what you don't realise is that young David Podmore (to give him his Sunday name) is a well-known chef rivalled only by the likes of Heston Blumenthal. So as we strolled slightly faster than leisurely, the topic of conversation soon came round to Poddy's world-famous watermelon curry. Now I can't say much about it as the recipe is a closely guarded secret, but be rest assured guys, it's one of the tastiest around! Now then, Muss would have joined in our little tête-à-tête however declined due to bleeding ears. As we approached Priory Cottage the conversation changed to that of greyhounds, and we reformed our little threesome for our stroll through Coates Farm and on to Bridges and maybe even an appearance from Wild Tracker himself, Nick Davenport.

Checkpoint 5 (Bridges) — 11.875 miles: What can I say? Almost 12 miles in and greeted by this jewel in the Shropshire crown. Just a pity we can't stay for a few beers! We relieved ourselves of our ruckies and set about foraging for food. Wild Tracker would have been proud (if he had been there). I found a tea fountain to quench our thirst and Poddy found a cake tree, whilst Muss fended off groupies who had recognised him from his YouTube movies. And then like a contestant emerging from the smoke on Stars in Their Eyes he appeared (fanfare please): Mr Nick Davenport, yayyyyyyyyyyyy! What a pleasant sight, he had come to wish us well and spur us on. The reason he was not waiting for us as we arrived was because he had just walked up to Stiperstones with Roger, and apparently he was doing real well. Nick is a top fella and runs his own bushcraft business called FarAFoot which is based in Shropshire amongst the scenic and unique uplands of the Clee Hills in the Welsh Marches. So taking time out from his busy schedule was a real big gesture. Thanks Wild Tracker! Nick walked with us up the tarmac road towards Stiperstones car park where we then said our goodbyes and headed on to the stony ankle-wrecking path and checkpoint 6.

Checkpoint 6 (Stiperstones) — 15 miles: Five miles to Earl's Hill, with a little climb at the end — fan-flippin'-tastic! Continuing along the ankle-wrecking path on the Stiperstones past Devil's Chair and down to Blakemoorgate, we all knew what was coming. The only saving grace would be that it would be dark by the time we got there so there was no fear of being intimidated beforehand. However, we had all done it last year and knew that this year would not be any easier.

By the time we reached Blakemoorgate the path was much kinder to our ankles and was now grassy and dusty. As we approached the edge of Eastridge Wood we had our first route change. To be honest I can't remember what the reason for this was. However, instead of traipsing across the crop fields of Marsley Farm to Hebberley we were now required to stay on the track. Due to extensive flooding and bad weather only days before the event there was plenty of mud and deep puddles this year, the biggest being at the edge of the wood. We all managed to negotiate it unscathed by clinging on to barbed wire and branches. Unfortunately an earlier competitor was not so lucky when he came a cropper by grabbing hold of a dead branch — a loud crack was heard followed by a splodoosh as the poor fellow fell backwards into the deep muddy puddle. I wish I had seen that!

By the time we reached the pub at the start of the drag up to Earl's Hill it had gone dark so out came the torches. I am not joking, as we passed Lower Farm and made our way along the track to the base of Earl's Hill, you've never seen mud like it. I have been to music festivals that weren't a patch on this! Not to be deterred on we trundled, very slowly indeed, until eventually we reached the woods. A quick negotiation of some rather large trees and other athletes like me, Muss, and Poddy — bodies toned to perfection (I am not kidding, having a torch shone in your eyes plays havoc with seeing clearly) — and we were on the hill at last. Now then, a bit of history for you: Earl's Hill is actually man-made! Bet you did not know that did you? Constructed in 1491 under instruction from Perkin Warbeck it was intended as an early birthday present for the Grand Inquisitor himself, Tomás de Torquemada. Along with this hill and the new torture chamber that can still be seen to this day at a secret location under a daffodil at the summit, it was to be the flagship of all torturous devices of the time.

Anyway, this is a walking journal not a history lesson, so let's get back on track. All I can tell you about the climb to the top of Earl's Hill is it's bloomin' hard going, head down and go for it. So after what seemed like ages we finally arrived at the summit and got duly clipped.

Checkpoint 7 (Earl's Hill) — 20 miles: As the old-age saying goes: "What goes up must come down." And it was not long until we were through the woods negotiating the muddy paths on our way back past the pub, spurred on by the locals who had ventured out to show their support (thanks guys, it means a lot). Exiting the lane where the pub was it was just a case of right then left and a little slog up the road to Bank Farm. And just like last year we could hear those generators signalling we were here at the checkpoint.

Checkpoint 8 (Bank Farm) — 21.875 miles: Bank Farm at last, what a welcome sight! Time for a sit-down, a change of socks, and a well-earned drink of tea. Things weren't going too badly at all I thought; the only exception was that Dicky Dark had come out to play and we were reminded that our legs must now be covered. Major bummer dudes, as I only usually cover my legs up when it's mid-winter!

So fed and watered we left Bank Farm and headed into the night through Eastridge Wood and Maddox Coppice with me bleating like a little bairn about covering my legs up. Phew, I was finding it hard going now and with no air to my legs I was sweating like a sweaty man. However, Poddy and Muss were in great spirits, laughing and joking as we rambled. Eventually we exited the wooded area into Snailbeach and as we wandered down the lane that would bring us onto the road to Tankerville we met up with another group of loons out for a nighttime stroll. These guys were first-timers to the Mynd and were struggling to find the footpath to the road. Muss took charge though, and in typical Lord Fabulous fashion navigated a slightly longer but quicker route onto the road. Sometimes walking an extra 200 yards is quicker than spending 15 minutes searching for a footpath.

Back on track again we walked along the tarmac road and chatted to our newfound friends. Well, I thought that us three were mad, but these guys were hardcore nutters! They were doing The Long Mynd for points. I had no idea what they were on about so I asked, and the answer I got was that they had their sights set on the Ultra-Trail du Mont Blanc, a 102-mile test of endurance around the stunningly beautiful Mont Blanc Massif near Chamonix, France. They needed a total of seven points to be accepted into the event, and completing The Long Mynd Hike would secure them two valuable points. Hmmm, mental note to get Muss drunk and signed up for this little leg tickler!

The walk along the road was pleasant and in no time at all we reached The Stiperstones Inn. Not an official refreshment stop, but the landlord always stays open and supplies the competitors with a well-needed drink of water or cordial. It was soon after this pre-refreshment stop refreshment stop that things started to go wrong, and Poddy was beginning to feel ill; and Muss being the top fella he is strapped Poddy's rucky to his chest and on we continued. Remember what I said earlier about having friends to help you through the lows and the pain? Well this is exactly what I am talking about. I kid you not, Muss would have carried Poddy's rucky all the way to the finish if it meant getting him to the end. Soon we reached Tankerville and taking a footpath through the fields we arrived at Shelve.

Checkpoint 9 (Shelve) — 26.875 miles: Finally a sit-down for poor Poddy (it was only after watching Muss's video we saw how shattered he looked) and the rest of us — well, after Muss had rolled his pants down (hahaha, getting told off at his age!). Trying to keep Poddy's spirits up the usual jolly banter carried on inside the refreshment tent, and as I chatted to another competitor I heard this strange noise coming from the other side of me. Wondering what it was I turned round at the same time as Muss to see Poddy puking up. Unfortunately for Poddy this was as far as he was going on this adventure, but bloody hell what an effort, and I am proud of the guy and will no doubt be walking the hills of Shropshire and Wales with him on many occasions to come.

So with Poddy's retirement came another problem: there was now only two in our team, me and Muss, and the rules state that at night you must be grouped into three or more. We needed a new team and fast! Ladies and gentlemen, may I now introduce you to Charlotte (The Machine), James, and Declan, our new walking buddies for the nighttime stage. These guys along with a few others had all set off together but had become separated early on and were now ahead of their team members. Keeping in touch by phone it would seem that the others were miles behind, so waiting for them would have been disastrous for them.

So off we went again out into the night in search of the next checkpoint. Our route to Corndon Hill would see us firstly walk along the side of the wooded Shelve Hill, through some fields, and then cross the A488 to a lane heading towards Priest Weston. However as we were chatting and generally having so much fun we walked straight past the lane leading to the start of Corndon Hill. In fact we only realised our error after about half a mile when we noticed the head torches of the other groups already on the hill, so back we trotted down the lane. James's feet by now were in a bit of a state and he was unsure of how far he would be able to continue before having to pull out.

Reaching the foot of Corndon Hill, Charlotte and Muss took the lead followed by Declan, and I thought I would keep James company — not the best of ideas as I am rubbish on grassy hills, so by the time I got to the top the others had been waiting for a while.

Checkpoint 10 (Corndon Hill) — 30 miles: Tally card clipped, no refreshments though this time, and we were off again. This has got to be my favourite stage as it's all downhill to Woodgate. The only hitch is that it is very steep, and with the rain of the previous month the descent was a little dicey at times to say the least and didn't half batter your feet. Needless to say, in no time at all we arrived at Woodgate Farm.

Checkpoint 11 (Woodgate Farm) — 31.875 miles: Woodgate Farm and another sit-down — don't mind if I do! Unfortunately for James this was going to be time to wave us goodbye as his feet had decided that at almost 32 miles they were not going any further. So after a very short stop off at Woodgate we shook James's hand, wished him all the best, and then we, the four intrepid adventurers, headed on our way.

Apart from the little stroll through the fields from Woodgate Farm to Welsh Lodge the majority of the next stage was all road work up to the foot of The Black Rhadley. As I am writing this next part I have a smirk on my face as it was probably the highlight of the whole adventure. Not long after leaving Woodgate, Muss was up front with Charlotte and I was talking to Declan. As I looked up to see what Charlotte was laughing about, Muss could be seen balancing with one hand on a fence, legs up in the air with his head only inches away from a full water trough! Apparently as he tried to negotiate the fence with muddy boots he had slipped, and this was his attempt to keep himself and his camera dry and in one piece. I have been asked to state the following: "It was an amazing act of self-preservation at stupid o'clock when feeling a bit kn*****ed." For anyone wishing to visit the area where this incident happened please note the following: Map OL216, G'Ref 320950.

Composed and laughing now faded to a controllable level we made our way along the road to The Black Rhadley. Due to damage made to farmland over the past years permission to use this land for the event was withdrawn and two extra checkpoints were introduced to make sure that this was enforced, which meant a long slog up a very steep road. By the time we reached the second of these two additional checkpoints Declan was quite a way behind so we waited for him. This checkpoint was unlike the others: picture the middle of a country lane, a tarp strapped to a tree, and a car lit up with fairy lights and music blaring away. And as I sat there in a camping seat as we waited for Declan I thought, this is bloomin' great!

At long last Declan came over the brow and we all made our way towards The Black Rhadley. By now Declan was starting to feel the pain, so as Muss and Charlotte headed up the hill to the checkpoint I stayed with Declan and eventually we got to the top and clipped our tallies too.

Checkpoint 12 (Black Rhadley Hill) — 35 miles: Right then, back down the hill. Charlotte was off like a rocket, and by the time me and Muss had got to the bottom she was well down the road stretch. I waited for Declan and Muss went to catch Charlotte up, as to arrive in drips and drabs would have seen us disqualified for splitting our group up. As Declan and I walked along the long road he said that this next checkpoint was as far as he could go: "There's nothing left in the tank Adam" were his exact words. It was harder than he had expected, but he had bloody well enjoyed it. Turning right towards Nipstone Rock we then picked up the Stiperstone trail through a wooded area and a field and then on to a road leading to the Stiperstones car park.

Checkpoint 13 (Stiperstones Car Park) — 38.125 miles: After a minor reprimand by one of the marshals for not arriving with Muss and Charlotte, myself and Declan got ourselves a drink and sat down. For me that would be just a few moments, but for Declan his adventure had ended and once again myself, Muss, and Charlotte headed on our way to the next checkpoint and closer to the finish. I have got to admit trying to keep up with Charlotte was a feat. I don't know what she had been drinking, but believe me Red Bull has got nowt on it! Heading away from Stiperstones we retraced our steps, past Bridges (this time it was closed and Nick Davenport had chuffed off) then past Coates Farm then Manor Farm before turning right at Medlicott Cottage and fighting our way up the boggy heather-clad hill to Pole Cottage and the feeling that we were almost home.

Checkpoint 14 (Pole Cottage) — 41.875 miles: On leaving Pole Cottage the dawn was starting to break and we were on our way home. With just over eight miles left to go Muss, Charlotte, and I were in good spirits, and hey it looked like the making of another fab-dab-a-rooney day! As we walked the lighter it became and we could just about make out Church Stretton in the distance below the low cloud. Turning left off the path at the signpost for Minton we headed down the hill. Charlotte was already getting a bit of a step on, and both me and Muss knew that she would be striding out alone when we reached Minton in 30 minutes or so. However, we weren't downhearted that we would be losing Charlotte as there was no way we could keep up with her, so we admired the scenery and the prospect of a cardiac arrest on the monstrosity that was now coming into view. But let's talk about puppy dogs and ice cream and other nice things to take our minds off the pain to come. Oh look here we are, Minton and a self-clip checkpoint!

Checkpoint 15 (Minton) — 46.25 miles: Well guys, at last the part of the adventure that both Muss and myself had been looking forward to (not): The Ragleth Hill! Firstly, can I say a big thank you to the organisers of The Longmynd Hike for including this monster? Just as you are thinking I am almost home and all the bad stuff is out of the way, this thing rears its head. Even if I hadn't already walked 47 miles I would still struggle getting to the summit of this one. So as me and my trusty sidekick made our way down the lane from Minton Green with Charlotte getting further and further ahead, we reflected on the adventure so far and wondered how Roger had got on and had he yet finished? So here we were at last, just crossed the A49 and walking — nay, crawling — up the Ragleth on our way to the last summit. A wise man once said: "There's gunna be some free pain dished out here girls, boys, zebras and animals and all the loving creatures of the world; there's gunna be some free pain and its all thanks to the baby Jesus and the pain pixies. Loving your work girls." Which I kind of think typifies how we were feeling as we dragged our sorry asses to the top. Eventually after what seemed like forever we did it — the top of the Ragleth and it was all downhill from now. We could see checkpoint 16 and we could smell the bacon and beans for breakfast. As we had our tally cards clipped for the final time we knew it was job done.

Checkpoint 16 (Ragleth Hill) — 48.125 miles: We were coming home! Just under 20 hours ago we set off on this adventure and all we had to do now was make our way off the hill, cross the A49 again, and follow a few roads back to the school. Hmmm, so after a slight detour when we went the wrong way, that is exactly what we did, and with a time of 20 hours and 19 minutes we had completed The Long Mynd Hike 2012.

Checkpoint 17 (Church Stretton Hill) — 50 miles: As we made our way into the main hall, Roger and Poddy were sat there. Roger being Roger had this big smile on his face, and Poddy was looking far better than he had 10 hours ago when we left him at Shelve. So that just leaves one question I suppose: will I be doing it again in 2013?… No chance… However, I have been known to tell the odd fib or two!

Thanks for reading guys, I hope I ain't bored you too much and maybe next year you might like a crack at The Longmynd Hike. Ooo, almost forgot Roger — well he smashed it big time, got the whole thing done in 16 hours 54 minutes and he'll be back next year for a faster time!

Until next time — Happy Rambling!