10th April: CTS Exmoor

I'd been looking forward to getting down to Exmoor for a second run at one of the tougher Endurance life Coastal Trail Series marathons.

I say 'tougher' and that is by Endurancelife’s standards: In just over the standard marathon distance it gives you a vertical mile of ascent, so this course in effect offers you the same challenge-wise as the 'junior' of the Skyrunner series in the British Isles, the Peak Skyrunner, which comes-in at a near identical ascent over 29 miles… It's certainly not a course for the faint-hearted!

This year there had been a slight tweak to the course in that the start and event base was not to be at the Hunter's Lodge pub as before but up on the top of the cliffs just along to the east on the edge of Martinhoe, with the figure of 8 course run in the reverse of my previous time, with the easterly loop the first of the two to be conquered before the shorter but more exposed westerly loop.

What its all about, waking to sight like this!

Following my normal ploy of arriving at midnight I had parked-up and enjoyed a night's kip in the back of the van and when dawn broke and registration opened I went off to undergo the quick and painless process that Endurancelife have managed to make work well for them.

Somewhere under the rainbow...

Walking across the field to the marquee there were some rain clouds hanging ominously behind it with the beginnings of a rainbow arcing across the sky.

First ascent of the day.

The start was a mercifully benign one for a a CTS race: normally you are straight in to a climb, but today from our elevated position it was a good long downhill blast heading eastward to the valley bottom, however with hitting the bottom comes the inevitability of a big climb looming.

God-botherers a go-go.

Ascending to the valley of the rocks it was mercifully nowhere near as windy as it had been on my previous visit and I managed to crack-on making good time through the wooded surrounds as we hit the ’Tarka Trail’. Soon we were hitting the first of the lung-bursting climbs (the kind that makes your Garmin pause as it detects no lateral movement; you just seem to move vertically), as we wound our way up the steep sloping cliff as we overlooked the god-botherers of Lee Abbey below us with their large hill-top crucifix standing-out defiantly against the sea and the wind.

Heading East.

Once atop it was a blast through the ‘Valley of the Rocks’ with its short grassy track well manicured by the wild goats of the area, before we entered the village of Lynton and the descent to the river, following the contours of it round to CP1 after 7 miles at Hillsford Bridge and the short jog on to the idyll of ‘Watersmeet’.

Meeting the water.

From the river at Watersmeet it was another climb back up on to the cliff-top path where I came across a fellow runner who looked like he was on his knees in prayer whilst he was attempting to solve an issue with his kit. I offered a helping hand, but without something like a screwdriver to re-attach an unyielding clip onto a plastic tube, a losing battle was being fought so I wished him the best of luck and carried along my merry way, which was a beautiful slight descent of over a mile in length overlooking the cliffs towards Lynmouth and Lynton before the drop to the sea front.

Praying to the god of kit-repair.

The weather that had threatened to pour with rain had not materialised with the sun now fighting its way out and warming us up noticeably when we were sheltered from the wind, making the climbs all the harder for this.

Off we go chasing the horizon.

Goat.

Soon after passing some bemused goats on the steep cliffs, we crossed through the grounds of the abbey with some freshly born lambs in the field beside the route and we were through to the halfway mark at CP2 and the end of the easterly loop.

Waterfall en-route.

Nearly back on the top!

On the western half the first challenge is to climb back up to the cliff-tops once more. In the past this has been shortly after the start and the entire field has been stretched-out Indian file along the switch-back path as we all sped-walked up the lung-burster! This year there was no queue and in the heat, the first strong sun of the year, with a half marathon already under my belt it was an effort to keep-going. Fortunately I was on this section with another runner, so we were able to grouse about this section as well as talk the common talk of the trail runner. It seemed that in the valleys just behind the cliffs they experience their own micro-climate. Sheltered from the wind, with the heat beating down it brought out all the moisture in the undergrowth and made it uncomfortably humid.

On the cliff-tops and Westward-ho we go.

Once back on top of the cliffs it was a lot easier to get moving consistently under the bruising sky as an ominous-looking cloud moved towards us threatening rain. As we wound our way along the coastal path with its undulations till we reached the furthest westerly point and we tabbed inland across the moor through CP3, passing the cairn on Trentishoe Down and the silent woody descent where you feel that there is not another soul for miles around.

Crossing the moor.

Turning left at the cairn.

Following the trail we wound our way across to the Hunter’s Lodge and a final sun-drenched climb up to the coastal path for the last mile and change taking-in the sumptuous views across to the distant Gower peninsula in Wales, where the CTS has a November race. Looking down in to the coves as I ran I spotted a seal calmly swimming around on the hunt for some fish, the first time in many a year that I have spotted one in the wild.

Always bittersweet seeing these signs... One more mile of pain but only one more mile of views like this!

On a high from this I crossed the finish in the spring sun, cream-crackered but happy to have finished the race in one piece… Last time out I suffered equipment failure with my Vango hydration pack failing to any longer hold-on to the 'mandatory equipment' pouch that I carry the items in, which led me to get a Camelbak (which I still run in) and with shredded feet - which were doused in the stream by the Hunter's Lodge in the fresh freezing water to clean them and numb the pain. This time round it was down to the Hunter's Lodge with fellow runner Luke for a post-run pint before heading home for a welcome shower and some burgers!

Eat pies.
Drink beer.
Run far.