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Thread: Kirkby Moor

  1. #71
    Nice one Fozzy, sounds like you had a cracking day out....beer, concert, curry, happy days...what a great album title that would be.
    Take care mate.

    Hi Ed, when I arrived home after Lee mills relay, I said to my wife.."I've seen more of Ed Gamble than you this weekend".
    Her reply, "lucky Ed". I think she was being sarcastic!
    See you soon mate.

  2. #72
    With Kirkby Moor coming up soon, here is an update on the Bob Grieve Trophy standings after Dunnerdale, with only Kirkby now to go - for the fastest combined times across 4 Black Combe races (Black Combe, Caw, Dunnerdale and Kirkby)....
    For the men's trophy, Ben Proctor is in the lead (2:59:40) about 10 minutes ahead of 3 chasers - James Harris (3:08:22), Josh Hartley (3:11:10) and previous winner Paul Reilly (3:11:35). Also with 3 completed races are Sean Robinson, David Griffin, Nick Sebley, Phil Clayton, and Jon Bailey.
    For the women's trophy, Lynn Murray is the only person still in with 3 completed races, in 4:00:31.
    Kirkby Moor is on Saturday 25th November and is a lovely route on the moorland west of Ulverston. Run that and then go to the Dickensian Festival in Ulverston for a great day out.

  3. #73
    And there'll be cake at the end this year...

  4. #74
    Following the Kirkby Moor race we now know winners of the Bob Grieve trophies for 2017 were Ben Proctor (Helm Hill) and Lynn Murray Black Combe Runners). This is awarded for the fastest combined time across the Black Combe, Caw, Dunnerdale and Kirkby Moor races. There were 7 completions this year:
    Ben - 3:54:11
    Josh Hartley (BCR) - 4:04:58
    James Harris (BCR) - 4:06:36
    Paul Reilly (Helm Hill) - 4:09:43
    Nick Sebley (BCR) - 4:46:14
    Lynn - 5:15:20
    Jon Bailey (BCR) - 6:18:03

  5. #75
    Kirkby Moor Fell Race

    I think there’s a remote yet distinct possibility that I may be different!

    Recently some friends were enthusing about a cruise ship holiday they were about to embark upon. (They were setting sail the same day as Kirkby Moor) Just talking about their holiday had aroused a level of enthusiasm within them that I’d found excessive. I listened but didn’t actively participate in their excitement. In truth I thought their imminent voyage sounded shit but I withheld my thoughts for fear of finding myself in a socially awkward situation.

    I’m sure my friends will have a fantastic holiday but it’s just not for me.

    Given the choice: sailing the high seas and fine dining at the captains table? Or Kirkby Moor followed by Greggs in Barrow and a visit to the Dickensian festival in Ulverston? There’s no comparison, a fell race followed by a cheese and beans melt floats my boat.

    Morning of the race I’m loading the car with my running gear when I hear my neighbour Bill shuffling towards the fence that separates our driveways.

    Bill’s an octogenarian, he’s frail but still active. You’d never believe he was once a former Mr Wigan. He’s a retired British Railways employee with an abundance of free time at his disposal, which he ironically spends obsessing over the four recycling bins Chorley Borough Council provides each household.

    Edna finds her husbands recycling antics annoying. You’ll often hear her shouting “Bill, leave the bins alone and get in this house, you’ll catch your death of cold”. Bill shuffles in but he’ll be back to his bins in no time, he’s had a security light fitted so he can recycle in the dark. Edna enjoys having a crafty cigarette outside (Bill doesn’t like her smoking indoors) and she’ll often reminisce about yesteryear. Especially the time when Bill was crowned Mr Wigan....”honestly Darren, he looked just like Kirk Douglas in Spartacus”...I say “but Edna, I’m Spartacus”...she’ll give off a rasping laugh and call me a ‘daft apeth’.

    Just before we leave for the race I noticed Bill had an empty box of Mr Kipling - Viennese Whirls. I informed Bill that cardboard goes in the brown bin. He thanks me and wishes me luck in my race then shuffles off towards his bins. We watch him lift the lids on all four bins before making his decision...Bill and Edna, I adore you!

    Driving away I say to Alison her dad is obsessed with the price and size of eggs. Her riposte is that my dad is obsessed with fallen leaves on his garden...before we get drawn into a ‘your dads weirder than my dad’ I tell Alison she is my obsession. She tells me “I don’t half talk some shit”....I totally agree!

    It’s my 7th Kirkby Moor Fell Race on the bounce. Apart from 2016 when the weather was inclement I’ve been extremely consistent with my times, never drifting by more than a minute. This race is one of the most runnable fell races in the calendar and it amazes me how little the turnout is every year on such a quiet day in the calendar. The race usually attracts around 80 runners. Highly recommended...lovely race and atmosphere.

    After the race we always have a ride to Barrow...why? Because it’s got a Greggs!

    To be fair Barrow has improved massively over the years. In the early 90’s I had a couple of mates who worked on the development of the land near the docks. They rented a house and some of us would visit them from Chorley...it was always an experience, especially the day I met Man Friday.

    Barrow in the early 90’s...out with the lads:

    We’re in a pub in town and I’d gone to the toilets. There’s an unwritten rule of etiquette that’s to be carried out when using public urinals. Unless you’ve no choice you stand as far away from the next guy as possible...you give each other space. You can still engage in conversation, you can break wind and say “better out than in” and most blokes will laugh because most blokes haven’t grown up. Unfortunately for me the etiquette rules hadn’t reached Barrow (after all it is at the arse end of nowhere) and I was about to witness a violation of the rules. There’s at least 10 urinals I’m alone so I take my pick, then in walks a bloke and stands beside me, shoulder to shoulder. I’m in my early 20’s this guys much older and he’s massive (maybe he’s Mr Barrow) and I can sense his line of vision is ‘checking me out’. He then says “I’m only allowed out on Fridays”. Was this a euphemism or some sort of code? I never found out because I scarpered mid-flow and pissed all down my jeans.

    My friends weren’t exactly sympathetic towards my ordeal. They called my unwanted admirer Man Friday who thankfully wasn’t to be seen again. For the remainder of the night at various times they’d say “can you smell piss?”....who needs enemies with mates like that?

    Back to now:

    After Barrow we hit the coast road to Ulverston for the Dickensian Festival which the locals have christened Dick-Fest. The town comes alive with food stalls lining the street and funfair rides for the young ones. Many of the stall holders will dress in Victorian period clothing.

    At Dick-Fest I’m having a problem: “Alison I don’t think I’ll be able to get it in, it’s a really tight fit”...I persevered and eventually got it in...parallel parking was never my strong point!

    Same again next year?...I think there’s a remote yet distinct possibility.
    Last edited by Tindersticks; 24-11-2018 at 11:34 PM.
    Darren Fishwick, Chorley.

  6. #76
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    Quote Originally Posted by Tindersticks View Post
    Kirkby Moor Fell Race

    I think there’s a remote yet distinct possibility that I may be different!

    Recently some friends were enthusing about a cruise ship holiday they were about to embark upon. (They were setting sail the same day as Kirkby Moor) Just talking about their holiday had aroused a level of enthusiasm within them that I’d found excessive. I listened but didn’t actively participate in their excitement. In truth I thought their imminent voyage sounded shit but I withheld my thoughts for fear of finding myself in a socially awkward situation.

    I’m sure my friends will have a fantastic holiday but it’s just not for me.

    Given the choice: sailing the high seas and fine dining at the captains table? Or Kirkby Moor followed by Greggs in Barrow and a visit to the Dickensian festival in Ulverston? There’s no comparison, a fell race followed by a cheese and beans melt floats my boat.

    Morning of the race I’m loading the car with my running gear when I hear my neighbour Bill shuffling towards the fence that separates our driveways.

    Bill’s an octogenarian, he’s frail but still active. You’d never believe he was once a former Mr Wigan. He’s a retired British Railways employee with an abundance of free time at his disposal, which he ironically spends obsessing over the four recycling bins Chorley Borough Council provides each household.

    Edna finds her husbands recycling antics annoying. You’ll often hear her shouting “Bill, leave the bins alone and get in this house, you’ll catch your death of cold”. Bill shuffles in but he’ll be back to his bins in no time, he’s had a security light fitted so he can recycle in the dark. Edna enjoys having a crafty cigarette outside (Bill doesn’t like her smoking indoors) and she’ll often reminisce about yesteryear. Especially the time when Bill was crowned Mr Wigan....”honestly Darren, he looked just like Kirk Douglas in Spartacus”...I say “but Edna, I’m Spartacus”...she’ll give off a rasping laugh and call me a ‘daft apeth’.

    Just before we leave for the race I noticed Bill had an empty box of Mr Kipling - Viennese Whirls. I informed Bill that cardboard goes in the brown bin. He thanks me and wishes me luck in my race then shuffles off towards his bins. We watch him lift the lids on all four bins before making his decision...Bill and Edna, I adore you!

    Driving away I say to Alison her dad is obsessed with the price and size of eggs. Her riposte is that my dad is obsessed with fallen leaves on his garden...before we get drawn into a ‘your dads weirder than my dad’ I tell Alison she is my obsession. She tells me “I don’t half talk some shit”....I totally agree!

    It’s my 7th Kirkby Moor Fell Race on the bounce. Apart from 2016 when the weather was inclement I’ve been extremely consistent with my times, never drifting by more than a minute. This race is one of the most runnable fell races in the calendar and it amazes me how little the turnout is every year on such a quiet day in the calendar. The race usually attracts around 80 runners. Highly recommended...lovely race and atmosphere.

    After the race we always have a ride to Barrow...why? Because it’s got a Greggs!

    To be fair Barrow has improved massively over the years. In the early 90’s I had a couple of mates who worked on the development of the land near the docks. They rented a house and some of us would visit them from Chorley...it was always an experience, especially the day I met Man Friday.

    Barrow in the early 90’s...out with the lads:

    We’re in a pub in town and I’d gone to the toilets. There’s an unwritten rule of etiquette that’s to be carried out when using public urinals. Unless you’ve no choice you stand as far away from the next guy as possible...you give each other space. You can still engage in conversation, you can break wind and say “better out than in” and most blokes will laugh because most blokes haven’t grown up. Unfortunately for me the etiquette rules hadn’t reached Barrow (after all it is at the arse end of nowhere) and I was about to witness a violation of the rules. There’s at least 10 urinals I’m alone so I take my pick, then in walks a bloke and stands beside me, shoulder to shoulder. I’m in my early 20’s this guys much older and he’s massive (maybe he’s Mr Barrow) and I can sense his line of vision is ‘checking me out’. He then says “I’m only allowed out on Fridays”. Was this a euphemism or some sort of code? I never found out because I scarpered mid-flow and pissed all down my jeans.

    My friends weren’t exactly sympathetic towards my ordeal. They called my unwanted admirer Man Friday who thankfully wasn’t to be seen again. For the remainder of the night at various times they’d say “can you smell piss?”....who needs enemies with mates like that?

    Back to now:

    After Barrow we hit the coast road to Ulverston for the Dickensian Festival which the locals have christened Dick-Fest. The town comes alive with food stalls lining the street and funfair rides for the young ones. Many of the stall holders will dress in Victorian period clothing.

    At Dick-Fest I’m having a problem: “Alison I don’t think I’ll be able to get it in, it’s a really tight fit”...I persevered and eventually got it in...parallel parking was never my strong point!

    Same again next year?...I think there’s a remote yet distinct possibility.


    Darren you are a genius and a "daft apeth" . Nearly pissed myself laughing reading that!
    Visibility good except in Hill Fog

  7. #77
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    Quote Originally Posted by Tindersticks View Post
    Kirkby Moor Fell Race

    I think there’s a remote yet distinct possibility that I may be different!

    Recently some friends were enthusing about a cruise ship holiday they were about to embark upon. (They were setting sail the same day as Kirkby Moor) Just talking about their holiday had aroused a level of enthusiasm within them that I’d found excessive. I listened but didn’t actively participate in their excitement. In truth I thought their imminent voyage sounded shit but I withheld my thoughts for fear of finding myself in a socially awkward situation.

    I’m sure my friends will have a fantastic holiday but it’s just not for me.

    Given the choice: sailing the high seas and fine dining at the captains table? Or Kirkby Moor followed by Greggs in Barrow and a visit to the Dickensian festival in Ulverston? There’s no comparison, a fell race followed by a cheese and beans melt floats my boat.

    Morning of the race I’m loading the car with my running gear when I hear my neighbour Bill shuffling towards the fence that separates our driveways.

    Bill’s an octogenarian, he’s frail but still active. You’d never believe he was once a former Mr Wigan. He’s a retired British Railways employee with an abundance of free time at his disposal, which he ironically spends obsessing over the four recycling bins Chorley Borough Council provides each household.

    Edna finds her husbands recycling antics annoying. You’ll often hear her shouting “Bill, leave the bins alone and get in this house, you’ll catch your death of cold”. Bill shuffles in but he’ll be back to his bins in no time, he’s had a security light fitted so he can recycle in the dark. Edna enjoys having a crafty cigarette outside (Bill doesn’t like her smoking indoors) and she’ll often reminisce about yesteryear. Especially the time when Bill was crowned Mr Wigan....”honestly Darren, he looked just like Kirk Douglas in Spartacus”...I say “but Edna, I’m Spartacus”...she’ll give off a rasping laugh and call me a ‘daft apeth’.

    Just before we leave for the race I noticed Bill had an empty box of Mr Kipling - Viennese Whirls. I informed Bill that cardboard goes in the brown bin. He thanks me and wishes me luck in my race then shuffles off towards his bins. We watch him lift the lids on all four bins before making his decision...Bill and Edna, I adore you!

    Driving away I say to Alison her dad is obsessed with the price and size of eggs. Her riposte is that my dad is obsessed with fallen leaves on his garden...before we get drawn into a ‘your dads weirder than my dad’ I tell Alison she is my obsession. She tells me “I don’t half talk some shit”....I totally agree!

    It’s my 7th Kirkby Moor Fell Race on the bounce. Apart from 2016 when the weather was inclement I’ve been extremely consistent with my times, never drifting by more than a minute. This race is one of the most runnable fell races in the calendar and it amazes me how little the turnout is every year on such a quiet day in the calendar. The race usually attracts around 80 runners. Highly recommended...lovely race and atmosphere.

    After the race we always have a ride to Barrow...why? Because it’s got a Greggs!

    To be fair Barrow has improved massively over the years. In the early 90’s I had a couple of mates who worked on the development of the land near the docks. They rented a house and some of us would visit them from Chorley...it was always an experience, especially the day I met Man Friday.

    Barrow in the early 90’s...out with the lads:

    We’re in a pub in town and I’d gone to the toilets. There’s an unwritten rule of etiquette that’s to be carried out when using public urinals. Unless you’ve no choice you stand as far away from the next guy as possible...you give each other space. You can still engage in conversation, you can break wind and say “better out than in” and most blokes will laugh because most blokes haven’t grown up. Unfortunately for me the etiquette rules hadn’t reached Barrow (after all it is at the arse end of nowhere) and I was about to witness a violation of the rules. There’s at least 10 urinals I’m alone so I take my pick, then in walks a bloke and stands beside me, shoulder to shoulder. I’m in my early 20’s this guys much older and he’s massive (maybe he’s Mr Barrow) and I can sense his line of vision is ‘checking me out’. He then says “I’m only allowed out on Fridays”. Was this a euphemism or some sort of code? I never found out because I scarpered mid-flow and pissed all down my jeans.

    My friends weren’t exactly sympathetic towards my ordeal. They called my unwanted admirer Man Friday who thankfully wasn’t to be seen again. For the remainder of the night at various times they’d say “can you smell piss?”....who needs enemies with mates like that?

    Back to now:

    After Barrow we hit the coast road to Ulverston for the Dickensian Festival which the locals have christened Dick-Fest. The town comes alive with food stalls lining the street and funfair rides for the young ones. Many of the stall holders will dress in Victorian period clothing.

    At Dick-Fest I’m having a problem: “Alison I don’t think I’ll be able to get it in, it’s a really tight fit”...I persevered and eventually got it in...parallel parking was never my strong point!

    Same again next year?...I think there’s a remote yet distinct possibility.
    Nice write up, hope you had time to admire the view from the top of the moor, it’s cracking

    I reckon you met a 90s shipyard legend there (who shall remain nameless )

    You could have just hit the Ulverston Greggs, it’s got seats and everything... proper swanky

  8. #78
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    Ilkley
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    From the results I see that the first 4 finishers, and 6th, have the initals JH. Just an observation.

    Great report as always Darren. But if you want to challenge for the win in this race next year maybe you need to enter as Jarren Hishwick.

  9. #79
    Quote Originally Posted by benshep View Post
    From the results I see that the first 4 finishers, and 6th, have the initals JH. Just an observation.
    L
    Great report as always Darren. But if you want to challenge for the win in this race next year maybe you need to enter as Jarren Hishwick.
    Ben

    Your observational skills are commendable. Unfortunately my running skills require more than a mere name change....but you might be right?

    Cheers
    Jarren Hishwick
    Last edited by Tindersticks; 26-11-2018 at 07:04 PM.

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