70 Wild Miles - A German perspective ...

Policy – if in doubt … do it.

Over the last seven days I have wondered if this should be posted. For me, it is open head and heart material. The memories and feelings associated with the days before and after 70 wild miles are pretty raw. Maybe what is below should remain in my head but I have a nagging fear of forgetting which kinda makes me go with how I feel at times …..


A difficult decision …
My Mum’s fight with lung cancer had been going on for 12 years. Over the past few months her condition had been getting worse. Gut instinct was to stay at home in Glasgow. Following a conversation with her and my Dad, gut instinct was overruled and I headed north towards Glen Coe.

Pre-race …
When it comes to accommodation in the Coe, the location of choice is to camp at the back of the Kingy. This is more for historical reasons (the Big Yin and I had a misspent youth based here) than anything more practical. Having said that, with and early start from the White Corries next morning, it made perfect sense. Kayak off loaded, tent up and it was time for food and a beer. Maybe a sign of age but I choose the lounge bar with the higher degree of comfort as opposed to the more usual climbers bar.

The alarm went off just after 6:30am and the stove sparked into life for morning coffee. Carbo loading continued with a bag of mini jaffa cakes complete with the “smashin wee orangy bit”.

Up at the White Corries bikes were being assembled, brakes tested, tyres checked …. i.e. much faffing about.

The paranoia about "was all the right gear in the right transition bag" and "was the right tranisition bag in the right van" soon disappeared – there was a serious 47 mile time trial to be done … too late for worrying !

The Bike …
47 miles is a long way. Across the Rannoch Moor, on a road bike and 47 miles is closer to madness.

In 1990 I remember crossing the moor on a suzi 600 bandit and feeling incredibly small and this felt worse! Still - heid doon / @rse up and arms onto the tri-bars. After the initial nerves settled down it was great. The 64kmph descent down towards Bridge of Orchy was “interesting” – easy time improvement to be had but at the risk of a bent bike and body in the event of a crash. It seemed like no time at all before the race marshals were warning of the right turn at Tyndrum. The road sign announced that there was 24 miles to Taynuilt and the finish – a check of the cycle computer showed that the sub 2 hour target was well possible. By the time the undulations in the road hit the legs, that target seemed …less possible. With Taynuilt in sight the same computer indicated that the target had been missed and a damage limitation exercise begun with everything possible getting thrown into the last mile or so up to the pier.

A split of 2:05:46 – just over target but the best that could have been achieved on the day.

The Kayak …
Thankfully Iain Burns joined the army and donated a sea kayak for beer and curry. I say thankfully because I really wouldn’t be up for a 10 mile paddle in the wee Riot 007 play boat thing I own.

The mass start was fantastic with boats of every shape, size and type. Watching the brave (and skilled) folks in the tippy marathon boats trying to stay upright helped to pass the time till all hell broke loose and we were off. Very quickly the field broke into those who knew what they were doing … and those who wondered what they were doing. I have heard of magnetic boulders in rivers but the north shore of Loch Etive ??? At one point I hadn’t put a right stroke in for about 10 minutes. All the effort was being put into the staying in a straight line – which meant left, left, left left, left … etc.

My shoulders and back were agony by the time the finish was in view. From a previous trip here I knew there was still a long way to go.

A split of 2:01:26 – again just over the target of under 2 hours (which could have been achieved if I had tried harder in the early part of the paddle ….. AAAARRRGGGHH)

The Run …
Having had a practice run over this section, the confidence of knowing where the three really nasty hills were, was tempered with heavy post bike / post paddle legs. My overall aim was to get under 6 hours for the total 70 wild miles. Fearful of attracting cramp and having to walk, a steady pace was adopted. With each mile marker that went by, the legs loosened off. The superb scenery was added to the bucketful of memories that continue to live in various parts of Glen Etive.

The only downside of the run, was having to jump clear of a minibus and into a ditch – the annoying thing was it was being driven by a race marshall who should know better !

Mile 11 … no point in finishing with anything left over so the pace was increased to everything that could possibly be sustained for the remainder of the distance.

A split of 1:36:10 – better than I could of ever have hoped for.

Post Race …
A quick set of goodbyes /congratulations, car loaded and the journey south started. Usually the race medals go to Mirren. This time I gave mine to my Mum.

About 10am on the Sunday morning, I got the phone call to tell me to get over to the house quickly – my Mum was worse. Early afternoon, an emergency doctor prepared to give a dose of diamorphine to make my Mum comfortable. The effect of this was explained and my dad, sister and I said everything that needed to be said. Overnight, my dad and I took turns overnight in checking on her. Around 6am on the Monday morning we were looking at her still fighting for breath .... and wondering how she was still managing to achieve it ! I nipped out about 8:30am to take Mirren to school and just before 9am - my Mum died with my dad by her side.

Over the next few days some thoughts about 70 wild miles rattled around the head.

Was it the right decision to race ? For sure – life is about getting out there and trying. If you have your health and fitness it should be used whenever you have the chance … you never know when it might not be there.

Are results important ? Again, I think they are. Without targets to work toward how do you measure yourself ?

What is more important than results ? – your family and pals. Without these people to share it all with, the experience could be empty. My dad summed it up “the best bit about going out on the bike, or into the mountains … is coming home” Coming home has changed forever now.

I also thought about how I had come to take part in 70 wild miles. A quick trace revealed it came from taking up paddling. I had thought about it in previous years but dismissed it due to the kayak section. How did I take up paddling … by meeting Nonie at last years Hebridean Challenge which was due to Rob … which was due to taking part in SAS Jungle … etc …

Like I said … the most important thing about a race is having good folks around you.

On a lighter note …


During the cycle I saw a couple of folks with "in memory of Mum and Angela" signs on their backs. This broke me and in both cases I passed them in tears. Would of liked the opportunity to let them know "why" but also kinda like the idea of them thinking ...... "WOW - how hard is that guy trying that he is crying" !!!!!!!!!!!