Arrochar Alps Hill Race

“We penetrated deeper and deeper into the heart of darkness. It was very quiet there.“

Distance: 26km
Elevation: 2,500m
MWIS forecast: cloud cover, 50 mph gales on the higher tops, increasing rain, risk of thunderstorms
Outfit: vest and shorts

I’d been keen to do this one for a while. I didn’t take any pictures, so you’ll have to make do with bits of Conrad instead.

Start > Checkpoint 1

“The great wall of vegetation, an exuberant and entangled mass of trunks, branches, leaves, boughs, festoons, motionless in the moonlight, was like a rioting invasion of soundless life, a rolling wave of plants, piled up, crested, ready to topple over the creek, to sweep every little man of us out of his little existence.” 

The path along the glen is pretty overgrown. At one point another runner compares it to Vietnam. Somehow I manage to lead some runners the wrong way at one point and we have to bushwhack through some bog back to the right path. Once that’s over the path up Ben Vorlich is pretty uneventful. The cloud is sitting at about 600m, so we’ll be doing most of our racing blind. The turnaround at the top offers a chance to gauge how far behind the rest of the field you are, and a chance to shout some encouragement at clubmates. I get to the top in a reasonable time and turn off the mountain more or less at random.

The descent is good fun, and I’m pleased to see that I’m close to the right line when I get below the clouds. There are a couple of people in sight, and I have some chat with Andy from Greenock who is a second-claim Westie. I forgive him for not donning our colours because he gives me a flapjack. Oisin flies past at an alarming speed.

Checkpoint 1 > 2

“There was a white fog, very warm and clammy, and more blinding than the night. It did not shift or drive; it was just there, standing all around you like something solid.” 

I hit the dam at about 1:45, and start the slog up Ben Vane. I’ve got Oisin in my sights, and manage to catch up with him. He knows all of the best lines, and I shamelessly follow him. This is probably the trickiest climb of the route, and I reckon following him saved me a good amount of time, and crucially means that at the top of the climb I’m in high spirits. So much of this race is spent in claggy isolation that any contact with another runner is a precious thing. 

The wind and rain are picking up, so I stop at the top to don my jacket, and Oisin disappears into the mists. On a clear day I’ve always found the descent to the bealach a bit deceptive, but in the cloud it’s even worse. The side of the hill is broad and pathless and if you’re not following a compass bearing it’s easy to over or undershoot and make things harder for yourself. I’m glad to have recce-d this section because there is a lot of scope for mistakes. It’s good fun to stretch the legs out after the climb though. I fall over quite a lot.

Checkpoint 2 > 3

“The fog had crept about us as if we had been signed in a peculiar way, and we were cut off from everything but ourselves.“

The bealach is a bit below the clouds, and I can see a few runners strung out in front of me. I’m way ahead of where I thought I’d be at this point, and feeling good. After about 10 minutes of climbing we’re back into the clouds and isolation. I’ll only see 1 other runner before the finish. The climb up Beinn Ime isn’t too difficult physically, but it’s another pathless route in thick cloud, with no way to visually confirm that you’re going up the right hill. I trust in my nav and plod on. The wind gets stronger.

The top of the hill looks reassuringly like the top of Beinn Ime, and I celebrate with some fruit pastilles and a little sit down. The next descent should be quick blast, but the advertised high winds have hit and are coming straight at us. It’s wet, cold, and slippy, and any time I get up any speed I fall over again. It stays like this for the rest of the race until we finally emerge from the clouds on the final descent. Eventually the 3rd checkpoint appears.

Checkpoint 3 > Finish

“I couldn’t have felt more of lonely desolation somehow, had I been robbed of a belief or had missed my destiny in life.” 

Heading up Beinn Narnain I know I should have eaten more food by this point, but getting to my supplies means taking off my jacket and bag, with the near certainty that the coat will fly off, never to be seen again. It’s brutal going trying to pick a path across the boulders, and at some point I get passed by Flapjack Andy. We have a brief chat, during which I don’t seem to be able to speak properly – too many hills, not enough snacks. I sit down and have a packet of mini cheddars (open to sponsorship deals).

The descent from Narnain is not for the faint-hearted. Howling winds, cliffs and boulders, rain. But all things pass, and eventually I get below the clouds to find it’s pleasantly warm and not even raining. I take off my jacket. I fall over in front of some neds. Eventually I’m down to the track, and it’s an enjoyable blast back to the finish. I get a bit carried away by the idea of marginal gains and empty my water bottles so that I can run faster in the last couple of kilometres.

Aftermath

“The tranquil waterway leading to the uttermost ends of the earth flowed sombre under an overcast sky.” 

That was tremendous fun. Tough, but the hills split the race into manageable sections, and the checkpoint marshals gave a welcome boost before the climbs. Huge thanks to all involved in organising and marshalling. Keeping track of runners on a day like that must be hellish. 

I’ve never had a better egg sandwich than the ones at the village hall.

Results: https://protay.co.uk/arrocharalps26/results.php#0_6BD9EB