Devils Burdens - third leg

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Devils Burdens - third leg

Third leg from Scotlandwell Team Vets B

We were a running match made in Hell. Pete, with his dedication to Club running and training; me with my preference for the vertical, only running if the weather is too bad to climb. Lynford Christie and Liz McColgan would have made a more compatible running team (they have similar hill running credentials to ours too). We would probably finish within shouting distance of each other, but whilst running we were supposed to be a harmonious pair all the time!

The writing was on the wall right from the start of the leg. I powered up the first steep ascent on quads honed by years of ferrying 20kg loads up the North Face of Ben Nevis, and calves only a cow could love. Meanwhile the wiser Pete, having already doubled up on Leg 1, was saving himself for the faster sections later on.

Whilst waiting at the top of the slope and admiring the magnificent view, I wondered whether we would see again the teams disappearing over White Craigs above, or what derogatory comments we would hear from the Westies Wimmin, gaining on us like programmed Terminators. I had time to think of how we might use our development grant from the SAF. On the drive to the changeover, we had formulated the Club's application for the ISO9000 QA standard, a quality club for quality runners. The only stumbling block being the A31500 registration fee, that's when I thought of SAF. At least we would have formalised procedures for the role of Club Captain, Team Captain, etc.

Meanwhile back in the race, being caught was a fate too much for Pete to burden (particularly since one of the wimmin was the missus) so once over the first summit, off we went at respectable speed on a runnable grassy sward. I wasn't thinking about navigation, just concentrating on trying to catch the team ahead, Dundee Road Runners, who seemed to know where they were going.

Pete was picking up now and on the wee climb to the Bishop checkpoint, my spirit was lifted by actually catching up with another team. The Dundee team were still ahead however and we followed them into a dreadful tussocky bog, Cort-ma-Law all over again. I watched them slow and then stall before lurching off to the side. We were made of sterner stuff so pushed on following a beeline to West Lomond. It paid off and, with Pete shouting we were banned and grabbing the map, we had actually caught Dundee AND Carnethy wimmin at the Burdens. They all pulled away from us, however, on the steep climb to the summit of West Lomond - Pete had left his 4WD on Leg 1.

The checkpoint punched, we plummeted after the others down the tourist track off the top. Bemused ramblers just managed to get out of the way in time. I however had to throttle back, by mistake I was wearing my old teflon Walshes and now it was telling. This was great, Pete couldn't climb and I couldn't descend.

Soon we left the path and veered off to the left. The finish was in sight and we were making a beeline for it, ignorant of the crags in our way. When the ground disappeared there was an awful lot of shouting and traversing, probing for a way through. The abseil was tricky - it would have been easier with a rope. We found some vertical grass and together with Carnethy Ladies, went down on our bums. Here we overtook them, their greater coefficient of friction must have slowed them down.

At the bottom, we hit the ground running and Pete took off like a man possessed. The devil was at work here and it was my turn to go through purgatory. My lungs fought for more oxygen as I willed myself to keep in contact with Pete's receding back. Grassy fields, a farm track, a couple of gates and it was all over. We handed over to Archie, content in the knowledge that our valiant efforts would allow him a relaxing last leg, a veritable jog to a hero's finish.

Brian came over to sympathise, "It must have been like running with an anchor", he said, nodding at Pete (at least it sounded like anchor).