A Day In The Hills 

I turn into the gateway of the harbour car park, press the button, get my ticket and pull forward as the barrier lifts. I've arrived. Now for the final kit sort. I'm already wearing my "running/walking" kit, so one less thing to worry about, select my small running sack in an effort to stop carrying too much superfluous stuff, and pack. Pick up my small rucksack with a change of clothes, heavy duty waterproofs, just in case, more food, first aid bits etc along with a sleeping bag for the crossing. Collect all the paper work, including the email ticket, lock the car, off to the Kiosk to check in. It's 01:45, Saturday morning.

    I know from the web site on Thursday, that the ferry crossings from Liverpool have been cancelled, what I had not figured, is that all those passengers will turn up here, at Heysham. There are other runners about, but going for the 09:15 start. I'm going for the 07:30 start. Here's me getting the 02:15 crossing, hoping to pick up the 6am bus in Douglas, on a ferry that, only takes less than four hours in good weather. With ferries cancelled and blanket snow forecast in Scotland, I feel I am pushing my luck. And to make sure I'm not feeling too optimistic, the embarkation crew will not let us take our luggage with us - too many people.. The rucksack has to go in the hold. No luxury of rushing off the boat on docking. I'll have to retrieve it off some baggage carousel at the other end first. Carrying my running sack and sleeping bag, I wander round the boat and find a space in the dog section, an area reserved for travellers with pets. I feel quite at home.

    Sleep has never been a problem, but I'm not sure if what I manage, can be classed as sleep. I am next to a large window and to me the sea is not rough, however the jerkiness of the ferry implies it's not having an easy time - we'll definitely not be arriving early. Having never been to the Isle of Man before, I have no picture of Douglas, where the bus will be, or where Ramsey is, so I give up worrying. At about 04:30 I awake from a temporary oblivion of the surroundings, to find my seat wet. The boat's never leaking? Then I see my sack, placed next to the window, the drinking tube kinked over on the back seat. I've been resting on it, squeezing it. I'm sitting in my homemade go faster concoction. Brilliant! Yet another humour test. Fortunately the guy at the end of the row has a Times, sections of which he doesn't need. It makes excellent blotting paper. I sit on it. It can soak from both sides.

We dock shortly after 6 am, the weather looks great, stay positive. I follow the crowd, find the luggage carousel. Another runner is already anxiously waiting for his kit to appear. Mine appears. We have a brief discussion about where to go, neither of us knows, we agree to leg it along the waterfront. I set off. It's all very well going in one direction but every now and again a thought crosses my mind that maybe I should be going the opposite way. He catches me up; I ask a guy in uniform walking towards us, where Villa Marina is and he points to a building further along the front. At least we are going in the right direction. There is a mini bus parked outside, we get there, walk in front of it. It's 06:30. Our appearance says who we are: the driver gets out, greets us warmly and opens the side door. This is the bus. We're the first two. Apparently, the chaos with the ferries has upset the smooth organisation of the race, as no one is sure who is arriving where and when. We wait. In a few minutes a taxi pulls up, out gets another runner and climbs on board. we introduce ourselves, Tim the last to get on, Jim from Mold and myself. As we set off to Ramsey, Tim gets out an extra large tub of flapjacks chunks and shares them round. Breakfast. What a star. He'd done the race last year and pointed out relevant parts of the run along the way. He'd also met Jim Drummond here last year. I'd met Jim on the Fellsman in 2004, he'd got me doing long distance stuff by persuading me to do the West Highland Way Race. He'd be here today but had been tempted north by a 65 mile event in the highlands of Scotland. I smile at the idea, looking at the clear blue skies and wondering how much snow he would be struggling through. We arrive at the Market Square about 7 am, register, get sorted and gather for the off. My aim is to look at the winner's time, double it, add ten percent and that's my time. Having beaten my best time by nearly an hour on the Wuthering Hike last weekend, I'm not sure how long I can push it over the hills, with 8,000 ft of up. I really want to make it to the finish by 16:30, but perhaps 17:00 is more realistic. To make sure I don't get too complacent I've booked on the 20:00 ferry back to Heysham. The return bus from Port Erin leaves at 17:38 and 18:30. The later one gets to Douglas at 19:25, only 10 minutes before boarding closes. I don't want that. Too much excitement for one day.

  I needn't have worried. What a magic day and a superb route. Stunning views all the way. The wind blows me along the tops, it's icy edge cutting through my body, pushing me off one top, down and up the next. I meet a runner from Dewsbury who is going at my speed so we stay together till just before the end. I don't do any serious map reading all day. He's done it before. At the start I note one walker, a real walker, one of the fast ones, that, although I run and walk, I can never catch. He sets off up the first hill and disappears. We overtake him going down hill into Greeba Bridge. We don't see him again till the final steep climb up to Bradda Cairn. He sails past looking like he's only just set off. I never catch him. The switchback above the cliffs is pure delight. I finish in 8 hours 26 mins 17 sec, shortly after 4 pm.  A really superb day in the hills with excellent organisation. Very, very enjoyable. 

  Within a minute of finishing I have my split times, magnificent! I like to try and keep a check of how I'm doing but there are always some checkpoints forgotten. Round to see the lady in the car for a certificate. Get changed by the tents, down to the Falcon's Nest for food. Tim is already there, chatting to some army lads who'd done it with just a bit of training. Bloody Hell. I have to train like mad to do theses sorts of times. Sounds like they enjoyed it also. 17:25, off to the bus stop. A couple arrive. The lady holds a certificate (same problem as me - no where to put a glossy A4 print), my glance reads 6 hrs something, mind thinks, might be Wendy Dodds. Tim arrives. The return trip is leisurely and the boat is late leaving. Jim (of Mold) makes it on the last bus with plenty of time to spare. No problem with baggage, plenty of space on board and after another good feed, stretch out in my sleeping bag to catch up on a bit of real sleep. In Heysham for 23:00, drive to the M6 Services at Forton, park up, put the seat back for another sleep till morning when I can call on my Dad in Manchester.

  A truly great day out.