6th September 2008 - Cat Stones from Mewith Lane (somewhere in Bowland) - about 8.5 miles and maybe 1000 ft of ascent
This run was an utter disaster. I'd been planning on devising a run or two in Bowland and this was my first, nightmarish attempt. I knew that Settle Harriers have a training run that they call Cat Stones out of Clapham Station (although I've never done it or have any idea of their route) so I had a look at the map and figured out a solid horse shoe run by going up Cat Stones (well the hill I call Cat Stones anyway) from the lane to the north, following the ridge south, then east before coming back on the opposite side of the valley. This was my carfeully planned route: OS Explore carefully planned route which would have been a good 12 miles or so.
Things however did not go even closely to plan and, instead, I ended up giving myself the full Bear Grylls survival route intead which I can only hazard a guess at being something like this OS Explore badly run survival route - only 8.5 miles but full of life or death decisions, bad navigation, long short cuts and jungle hell!
On my Forest of Bowland explorer map there is a small dotted line indicating a path up to the trig point on the top of Burn Moor (which has a couple of features nearby called east and west Cat Stones) and I set off up a nice farm track fully intending to get on that path. I wasn't carrying my map or a compass of course but had chosen to "memorise" my planned route.... doh! At the farm I must have immediately gone wrong as the path (the only path I could see to be fair) soon started to head westerly, contouring the hill, rather than going up it. Mind you after half a mile or so I came across a track going up so decided to use that instead. This track wasn't at all muddy at this point and looked hardly, if ever used, which might have started ringing one or two warning bells in my mind but I was glad to be going up and how difficult could it be, regardless of which path I used?
Except that my path soon disappeared and I was running through tussocky grass that then turned into tussocky heather and bogs....... as far as the eye could see. My <cough> path going up:
Once deeper into the heather bogs I did find the occasional quad bike trails or heather fire breaks to run on but nothing seemed to go quite in the direction I wanted so, for much of the time, I was running off piste, pointing myself at the highest point I could see ahead. I eventually got to what I imagined was the highest point but couldn't actually see the trig until I looked over my shoulder to the right - the trig was 100 yards or so away with no noticeable path to or from it that I could see.
I was now faced with a choice of directions. A fire break went straight on ahead whilst another went to my left. It was pissing with rain and my visibilty was maybe 200 metres. I didn't have my compass. The straight ahead one seemed to start going down hill whilst that to the left didn't so I went left. Wrongo!
This firebreak was criss crossed with others going either left or right and, after 10 minutes or so, I realised that I was probably going east when I should still be following the ridge (rounded plateau rather than ridge I should say) south. So I then took the first firebreak to my right. I won't bore you with this too much but pretty soon the firebreaks, paths or whatever they were petered out or just went off in hap hazard directions such that I eventually came to the conclusion that I ought to just head east and get back down nearer civilisation rather than continue my futile search for a runnable route along the top. This in itself was not easy though. The ground was supremely wet and boggy, there weren't any paths and the ground was criss-crossed by narrow, treacherous looking sunken streams that I had to be careful not to fall into. Some of the bogs looked humungously deep too. The view from er... somewhere of a valley um... somewhere else:
After much fun and games I finally found a track going north and followed it. To my right was a wall with farm fields on the other side so I now felt closer to safety and started to enjoy the run more. My track of course then decided to get worse and worse, and pretty soon it itself was only a narrow boggy sheep trod. I came across a hunting lodge along here but, thankfully, there wasn't a local red neck in residence, chopping wood with a frigging great axe and cursing under his breath about axing to death fell runners that get lost.
After a while I was getting a tad jarred off with this track, continuing to follow the edge of the open access moorland, and took the opportunity once the path started to head east to carry on north, now crossing cow fields and stone walls. Had I know where I was or had a map with me, I would have been able to follow a footpath that disected my route here and headed swiftly back to my car. I didn't see a path though and chose not to head in that direction as in the next field there was just one large cow (or bull I wondered?) sat down 300 yards away just before a gate I'd need to use. Instead I chose to hop over a wall and into a deep, junglely wood. This will be easy I thought because the road can't be far from the other side of this little wood.
Unfortunately though there was a fast flowing beck, pretty much in flood, the other side of this wood. The wood itself was also very over grown, very muddy, full of flying insects, nettles and whatnot. Here though I remembered my Bear Grylls training and decided to follow the river to my right.
This direction choice was a crap one too but, after much hacking through fetid jungle and finally electing to wade through the river, I found myself near a farm. I gingerly walked through the farm yard, wary of dogs, before at long last being able to get back on the lane that led to my car.
1 hour 42 of timed running, bog trotting and jungle hacking together with at least 20 minutes of stopping and wonderining where the hell to go next. A crap run then but a great mini adventure.
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