Written by James Hartshorn
100 miles on the Cornish coastal path in winter, sounds fantastic to me!
I’d wanted to do a 100 miler on the South West costal path ever since my first ultra, the Classic Quarter back in 2011. That had completely trashed me, but I’d loved it! The south west coast path is my favourite place for running and I’m forever in love with Cornwall having grown up there. So when I heard that MudCrew were going to put this race on and that it would be in winter I just couldn’t resist, I’d only heard great things about MudCrew so as soon as the race came out I quickly entered.
The August before ‘the Arc’ I ran the MudCrew RAT Plague 100K and this confirmed to me that I’d made a great decision as the organisation and vibe of the RAT series of races was second to none. This was certainly a bonus as I’d had a crap time mentally out on the course that day. Getting my race invite to the Arc at the finish (even though I was already entered by then) was a timely reminder that I really needed to get my head in the right place for when I was to next come back to the Cornish coast in a little under six months’ time.
In the months leading up to the race there were lots of posts from people on Facebook about their reccies of the course, I wasn’t going to have the opportunity to do this but I had run 44 miles of the route back in 2011 on the Classic Quarter so I thought this could only help even if it was 4 years ago and on a hot day in June. This had taken me 12 hours, but it was my first ultra and I’d run the SDW 100 twice since then so l knew I could do the distance. Plus I now had many more consistent running weeks, months and years in my legs so I should be fine…. anyway you just have to keep the sea on your left, right! Course reccies they take the adventure away…… these were my thoughts in the weeks before.
Eventually my mindset in the days and hours before the race was that I was in for a great weekend of running, I was almost certain to get lost at least a few times and that we were all so bloody lucky with the benign weather forecast. Oh and that I was definitely going to finish, as long as I didn’t fall off a cliff or something!
I’d made my way to the race registration (and finish) at Porthtowan via a stopover at my mothers in Plymouth and a good night’s rest, I was going to need this as I would be awake for the next 43 hours. After checking in and a kit check we had compulsory GPS tracking devices attached to our packs followed by a very thorough race briefing, if things went wrong I felt we were in good hands. I then had a nice coffee with my mother and her partner at a café just down from the Blue Bar which was race HQ for the weekend. They don’t really agree with me doing all this running but are supportive nonetheless which I really appreciate. On this occasion all they got to see was me getting on a coach (to take us to the start) with a group of lycra clad ladies and gents but they seemed to be enjoying themselves and the pre-race atmosphere.
From Porthtowan the coach journey to the start at Coverak is about 25 miles or so away, travelling across Cornwall from the north to south coast rather than the long way back as we would shortly be attempting on foot; 100 miles around the western edge, Cornwall’s dramatic Atlantic coastline. I was sat next to a friendly chap whose name I can’t recall, unfortunately he was telling me all his worries for the race ahead so I did my best to blank this out whilst remaining polite as I didn’t need the negative vibes. After a while he quietened down and as we approached Coverak I was able tune into the positive race vibe that others around me were helping to provide with their banter. There were quite a few people who knew each other from other races or who were local runners or Mud Crew regulars. I didn’t know anyone which was fine as I tend to keep to myself and my own thoughts before a race, but I will happily soak up the positivity of others.
On arrival at Coverack it was already getting dark. After a few fitting words for a local and much loved runner, who had sadly passed away in the months before the race, we were off! I didn’t know this guy but had seen the touching tributes to him on the MudCrew Facebook page and many runners wore black ribbons as he should have been setting off on the coastal path with us that evening but sadly wasn’t. This and other thoughts preoccupied my mind over the first few miles as we slowly settled into our respective rhythms and spread out across the moonlit coast. I thought about how short life is and how lucky I am to be fit and healthy and to be able to spend my time doing things like this.
I was particularly grateful that my girlfriend Candice was willing to travel from Hampshire on a Friday night, straight after a busy and stressful week at work to meet me somewhere on the Cornish coast. She would then be my sole crew and follow me along until the finish. This would be something that I could look forward to over the miles ahead, knowing that as I ran westward she was driving ever closer and would inevitably catch me.
The weather was kinder than we could have hoped for and we had a star filled sky that later clouded over a bit, this helped together with my exertions to keep me warm. I took it careful over these initial miles as I gradually adjusted to running by the light of my head torch, my plan was to start steady, stay steady and enjoy it. I was to learn that apparently three people dropped in the first few miles due to twisted ankles that must have been very frustrating for them! I often think about this at the start of races as particularly in the dark with all the enthusiasm at the start this seems to happen a lot.
Only 94 miles left to go…
I went the wrong way a number of times during these early miles but swiftly got myself back on track. There was an ‘unofficial’ but most welcome aid station at Lizard Point about 10 miles into the race, I took this as a good opportunity to add a bit more water to my bladder as I had been drinking far more than is normal for me up to this point, sometimes you just feel thirsty I guess. Other than at this unofficial point the checkpoints were all at pubs roughly spread out every 20 ish miles or so across the route, so it is quite literally just one very long pub crawl, with crawl becoming ever more apt as the journey continues.
At Kynance cove there was a route diversion due to damage to the path and cliff last winter. Indeed I was to see many places along the route showing battle scars from last winter’s big storms that had battered the coast and its communities. Somewhere close to Mullion I and a number of others went off route and became lost in a large boggy area, adding to the fun it was full of brambles! It was one of those bogs where you found yourself stepping on little island tufts of grass with big squelching potentially ankle knackering boggy drops all around that were just asking to be fallen down, with fog drawing in to add to the confusion. I and the other runners that had become waylaid here were now stumbling about quite hopelessly for what seemed an eternity, we fortunately had a good sense of humour about our predicament. Somewhere in the midst of this I started making conversation with Vicky who was most notable in the dark in the miles before for her woolly bobble hat, little was I to know that I would see her again and again and run and get lost with and without her numerous times over the many hours ahead. Eventually the correct path was deduced on seeing another runners lights and we were back on track. Soon afterwards on this section I recall scrambling over a rocky beach which was fun and easy going with still fresh legs and then running past a lighthouse with its light playing out across the cliffs, runners and sea, some magical running moments.
Into Porthleven at about 25 miles and the first check point. This is the town that is always shown on the BBC weather news when storms hit the area as it has what looks like a church (although it’s actually a village hall I believe) with a clock tower right by the coast that looks very dramatic with waves crashing onto it over the sea wall. Fortunately none of that was happening as I ran past down the quiet road to the checkpoint on the front of the harbour, the Harbour Inn. Once inside, I was quickly sat down and offered everything I could wish for. I didn’t seem to have much choice about the sitting or I was just too weak willed in the warmth and glow of the pub to resist. After scoffing a plate of something I eventually managed to drag myself out the door and fiddled about with filling my bladder up at the water station outside, it really was a slow fiddlesome process filling the bladder with this pack and one I don’t plan to repeat in future races, soft flasks are the future I think.
On leaving Porthleven it was now well past midnight and after an unintended detour following the road out of town and up a hill, before cutting back across some fields to the coastal path I eventually got myself back on track! The coast rolled back again into the now frequent pattern of climb up onto the cliff, run along the top of the cliff, descend to a beach, sometimes with a water crossing and repeat. I was running with Vicky and sometimes Greg now at this point and having the odd snippet of welcome conversation. We came to an old Tin Mine that looked amazing bathed in the moonlight, perhaps I was dazzled by this as I made an odd route choice of descending the cliff face here towards the sea. Vicky has since described this to me as my ‘dicing with death on descent of a tiny non-path by the mines’, I think she exaggerates! On following for a short while she fortunately talked me back, it was around this point where Vicky started to seriously question my route choices.
Back on the correct path again and the rolling cliffs continued until we reached Marazion at 35 miles which I knew had a flat road section for the next 7 miles until checkpoint 2 at Mousehole. It was my plan to pick up the pace and make the most of this easy section, so I pulled away from Vicky and Greg and ticked over at quite a decent pace I thought considering the miles in my legs. St. Michael’s Mount wasn’t visible in the dark in fact it was just a total blackness sitting in the sea, I thought it strange that no lights at all seemed to be on the island. All was going well until it wasn’t and I ended up heading inland on the A30 instead of along the coast! Quick turnaround with the map out and I was heading back towards the coast once more which I picked up just before Penzance to re-join Vicky and Greg after my little excursion. Not much time lost I figured but certainly none gained. A few staggering drunks were along this stretch and a rough looking person taking a pee out towards the sea, at first I thought he was also someone struggling with alcohol inebriation until I realised that he was actually in the race!
Past Penzance and Newlyn I was by myself as I entered the second pub checkpoint at the lovely village of Mousehole, the Ship Inn. The Mud Crew Angels (as they are affectionately known) were very attentive here and after somehow finding myself sitting down again I really fancied a pint but made do with some coffee and coke plus some soup or chips or perhaps all of that I think, I can’t recall. Anyway I eventually escaped and headed back out onto the coast path and into the increasingly frequent pattern that I would repeat over the next 40 miles of pulling ahead of Vicky and sometimes Greg only to get lost find my way back to the coastal path and then catch up with them again! It was getting a little frustrating to say the least but I maintained a good humour about it. I faired far better when sticking with Vicky as she always seemed to choose the correct path when I was thinking it was the other way. I did eventually work out the rather odd logic of which direction to follow when presented with a post with multiple direction arrows topped with an acorn as if that somehow helped, by eventually I mean at about 80 miles in when Vicky explained it to me!
Despite continuing to go the wrong way at times I really enjoyed this leg passing Lamorna Cove and on towards Porthcurno at 50 miles. Past half way and I was now very much looking forward to seeing Candice, grateful that she wasn’t having to drive in bad weather just as I wasn’t having to run through it. Dawn had broken and it looked like it was going to be a lovely day, I was in good spirits and moving well. The next major point in my mind was Sennen Cove, checkpoint 3 and more importantly where Candice and I had planned to meet, so as I climbed the steps up past the Minack open-air theatre I was very surprised to hear my name shouted and to see her at the top with a big smile on her face! It was a big boost to see her more than 5 miles before I had expected and great to know that she would now be popping up here and there over the miles ahead.
Climbing the steps next to the Minack theatre and seeing Candice at 50 miles
The miles to Lands’ End quickly passed and I thought about how much stronger I was as a runner compared to when running this stretch of coast 4 years before in the Classic Quarter. I ran most of this section with Vicky and she was good company putting up with my rather random snippets of bizarre conversation. Late morning and we ran into checkpoint 3 at Sennen Cove which was in a lounge of a holiday let (I think) next to the Old Success Hotel. Candice was here waiting for me but she had to quickly make space for other runners that soon arrived as it became very busy even with just a handful of us. Sitting down (again!) I soon had another most welcome plate of food to scoff.
On leaving Vicky and I headed out across Sennen Cove but then we made a navigational error and headed inland up a path and along a country road parallel to the sea. We brought our unintended long-cut to a close by climbing over a few low walls and jumping some patches of brambles before finding our way back to the coastal path.
We caught up with Greg and soon we reached Cape Cornwall. I spotted our car in the carpark but Candice was nowhere to be seen, she soon turned up, she had nipped to the beach thinking I wouldn’t appear for ages based on my tracker. Mark, a mate in Cheshire had been texting her updates of the tracker as she would struggle with the notoriously bad Cornish signal to follow it on her phone, but I don’t think the tracker was updating regularly enough at that point, or the texts weren’t getting through, no matter. I hung about a bit as Vicky had been struggling but she told me not to wait so I headed out. She had been expecting to see her crew; Shaun and Kenneth her fellow club members of Plymouth Musketeers. They were parked up a little further on and when I passed I updated them about her progress and hoped that they would give her the boost that she clearly needed. They both gave me words of encouragement and it was good to see their now familiar friendly faces along the route. I found the 4 miles between the Cape and Pendeen Watch to be very runnable and made good time here running past the ruins of the old tin mines. I met up briefly with Candice near the lighthouse and said I’d see her in St.Ives but it might take a while!
This leg between Pendeen Watch and checkpoint 4 at St.Ives is 13.5 miles and mostly inaccessible. It was initially runnable but then within a couple of miles it became muddier and muddier still until I was wading knee deep through a bog of dark black mud. I could barely stay upright and I was worried about losing my shoes, this didn’t feel right and I’d remembered a path choice a mile or so back but I persevered for a bit. On crossing a road and heading further inland through yet more mud I finally decided I needed to alter my course. The path had become less muddy by now and I really didn’t fancy back tracking through all of the mud so scanning the hills with compass and map in hand I made my best guess on the correct direction and stuck to it. Eventually I was back on the coastal path and could see the sea, phew! That had cost me a fair bit of time, but I had to stop and sit on a rock to change my socks and shake some of the mud off my shoes as they were like lead weights. Once I got going again I really enjoyed this remote stretch as darkness fell and the night began for the second time in this race. Soon the terrain became a fun scramble over huge boulders and it was a little confusing in the dark at times, fortunately for a change I was able to keep on track and felt surprisingly sharp minded considering the many hours on my feet. This was about 70 miles in, so an interesting time to be scrambling about in the dark on the coast ever aware of the huge cliff drop accompanying us!
Approaching 9pm I arrived at St.Ives and found my way with through some narrow streets until they opened out onto St.Ives bay and Candice was there to point me in the direction of the Lifeboat Inn the 4th and final checkpoint. I was tired now and it was confusing entering a busy pub with punters sat around enjoying their evening meals, beer and frolics on a Saturday night. Myself and the other Arc runners were over to one side of the pub and must have made a bizarre spectacle for the regulars. Candice had been forced to park some distance from the pub and I’d sent her off after a change of shoes and socks. Meal requests were going in from the runners but this was all confused for me and I struggled to get anyone’s attention, I found it difficult to communicate with anyone in the noise of the pub. I was sat in an awkward place with the waitresses dashing continuously past me with plates of steaming food and cold beers which seemed really quite cruel. I sat here for what seemed like an age faffing with kit and trying to get some attention but somehow my voice seemed very small and no one noticed. At this point a chap and his family asked me something about the event in a very enthusiastic manner, unfortunately I was quite abrupt with them and quickly found myself apologising basically having to say “sorry I’m not really with it at the moment and can’t really think properly let alone talk.” I just wanted to get out of this pub as I was quickly losing my cool and becoming negative for the first time in the race. I eventually managed to get my food request in and Candice turned up with my shoes, but the wrong ones (how was she to know!) so I was then rude to her as well. Anyway time passed and I put food in my belly, new socks and shoes on my feet, apologised to Candice and headed out the door.
I met up with Vicky and Greg again as we were leaving the pub at the same time and it was a good feeling to get moving and to start ticking off more miles. This was the last leg, just 22 miles to go and now out of the pub and moving I felt positive and back in control and my spirits soon picked up. There was a nice trail here next to the railway line that was easy going and soon we found ourselves in Hayle town centre. Here trying to find the right way was tricky, but after some frustration we were fortunately pointed in the right direction by Andrew of MudCrew , he had turned up in his car with big bags of crisps for each of us. We soon found the race markings (this was the only part of the route that was marked) and following these whilst walking and quickly devouring said crisps we soon left Hayle behind. Back running again across sandy trails near Gwithian it was getting chilly (-5 apparently) and I was feeling good so I picked up the pace to keep warm. I found I could quite easily maintain this faster pace so I soon pulled away from Vicky and Greg who looked like they were working well together.
I ran the last 10 miles alone and really enjoyed them feeling very strong along this meandering stretch of coastal path to Portreath, indeed I even found myself quite naturally picking up the pace a little more. I love this feeling at the end of ultras when new strength comes to me but it does always make me think, could I have pushed harder earlier? To which I guess the answer is undoubtedly yes!
Into Porteath it was the early hours of the morning but I wasn’t feeling the hours on my feet at all and felt chirpy on meeting crews waiting for their runners. After some confusion and a little detour I found the right way back up to the cliffs here to re-join the coastal path. Andrew had parked up at the top of the hill with headlights on to help light the route, he was having a little nap as I passed so I didn’t knock on the window, but I appreciated the silent support nonetheless.
These last few miles were a bit bumpier and I passed a few runners here with my new found speed. I somehow managed to make the final climb more challenging by missing the path and steps completely to take a scrambling route up the cliff. Once at the top I could see the lights of Porthtowan below and it was an easy and joyful descent down to the finish at the Blue Bar. Oddly someone in the bar recognised me from my school days in Plymouth, I’ve no idea who that was, but at 4am in the morning after 24 years and then 43 hours of being awake, I hope I can be forgiven!
Whilst Candice drove me back to my mothers in Plymouth I had some really crazy and vivid hallucinations on the A30/A38. Huge impossible metallic constructions in the middle of the road and slithery Lovecraftian horrors sliding about everywhere! I had to stare at my feet in the foot well and every time I took a peek out of the window all this crazy shit was still going on! First time for me experiencing anything like this and fortunately I didn’t have any of it going on in my head whilst out on the coast.
This is a great race on a superb route and a very well organised inaugural one at that, I really think and hope that it will grow and grow and become a classic on the ultra-scene. It is far more than just another 100 miler and feels like a proper adventurous journey. We were extremely fortunate with the weather, it really was perfect conditions out there, far better than anyone could have expected, let alone for February. In bad weather and rough winter trail conditions this will be an absolute beast and a true Arc of Attrition!
So I’m thinking next year will be different and I will have to really up my game!