The Cheviot 2000

a team fell race in Northumberland

The account that follows is adapted from an article written for the Derbyshire Constabulary 'Upbeat' magazine by Sergeant Jon Lambley, a regular competitor. It describes Jon and his colleagues' experience of the 2003 Cheviot 2000 race and it pretty well sums up the tone of the event and of the weekend.

Personal Bests and the Golden Welly

It was June again, and we were back at Wooler located on the Scottish borders in Northumberland for the annual trek around the Cheviot Hills organised by the Northumbria Police CHAOS Club.

This year a number of the Armed Forces teams were in the Gulf but despite this there were still well over 100 teams entered for the competition. The Derbyshire Constabulary was again well represented as usual however, this year we were without our top team due to Karl W and Christine H expecting their second child. Karl and Christine live and breath fell running and can be described as super-fit (if not totally mad!).

Having arrived in Wooler on the Friday night we made our way to the event centre for the traditional welcoming speech, team registration and allocation of start times.

Our team were allocated an 'off' time of 0705hrs, which coincidently happens to be my collar number and personal best time (the omens looked good!). Steve W's team were allocated 0715hrs with Jock M's team 0725hrs.

There was no real pressure, but inter-team rivalry meant that they would be chasing my team all the way! We've just got to keep in front!

There was no real pressure, but inter-team rivalry meant that they would be chasing my team all the way! We've just got to keep in front!

After a good evening meal and a few drinks (purely for medicinal reasons) we prepared our event kit and went off to bed for a good nights sleep.

The following morning, and after a hearty breakfast at 0545hrs and a 20 minute drive, we arrived at the start area located at the base of the Cheviot near to Hawsen Burn (map ref: 954225). We nervously awaited our time slots and as usual questions were asked throughout the team - 'Why are we here?' We could have still been at home in bed, nice warm and cosy. We tried to remain positive. At least it wasn't raining and we could see where we were going, unlike in other years.

Suddenly the start bleeper sounded and we were off jogging along the road towards the base of the long 55 minute climb up the Cheviot, the biggest hill in the region. An hour later we arrived at the summit and headed off on a bearing for West Hill, passing the wreckage of a Lancaster bomber (map ref: 895212). The ground was firm underfoot which meant we made good progress. After West Hill it was past Hen Hole and onto Auchope Cairn, and then on to Windy Gyle. At this point we traversed along the Scottish border, along the Pennine Way, which has been subject of substantial conservation work with very large slabs forming an excellent foot 'motorway'. We made good progress along this section, however we knew that the other teams would too.

After Windy Gyle we descended into the valleys for the first watering station. By this time my knees were causing me a real concern, but after consuming several horse strength ibuprofen and manipulating the ligaments I managed to put them to the back of my mind and trot on.

We returned to the high ground via Kidland forest edge, where my particular skill - sweating - came to the fore. It was approaching midday, hot and there was no breeze.

Several miles later we were in a position that allowed us to estimate our finishing time, but Steve W, Steve L and Dave B also knew that they were virtually matching our times on every leg. This encouraged them to increase their pace.

It is at this point in the race that final positions are invariably decided upon and whether your team will receive a sub-seven hour mug. This is the time to mentally and physically push yourself to the limit.

Across the valley we saw an RAF Rescue helicopter hovering like a vulture over the competitors, preparing to air lift another Cheviot victim.

Across the valley we saw an RAF Rescue helicopter hovering like a vulture over the competitors, preparing to air lift another Cheviot victim. Memories of Jeff B, a former member of Jock's team, came flashing back from an event a few years previous. The team got to 800 yards from the end when Jeff succumbed to heat exhaustion and collapsed. He had to be helicoptered off the hillside. After a few nights in hospital he recovered just fine, however he's never competed since. We wondered if it might be one of the other Derbyshire teams hitching a ride again.

After the final climb onto Hedgehope summit, it was a flat out, 'my knees have shot it anyway' style, race to the finish. Descending 1800 feet over the final 2 miles there is certainly no gain without pain, but the natural pain killer - adrenalin - had kicked in and helped me on my way.

With much relief we crossed the finishing line and were immediately subjected to a full kit check to ensure that we had carried the minimum safety equipment. We had no worries on that score. We collected our much sought after race T-shirt, picked up a nice hot cup of tea and collapsed in a big heap.

For a few seconds we relaxed in the pleasure of having done it again however, as if we had not suffered enough pain, we were immediately attacked by thousands, probably millions, of very aggressive scottish type midges (mosquito like creatures who bite for the hell of it!). Despite the high temperature we were forced to put on our hats and coats to stop us from being eaten to the bone.

A short while later Steve W and his team arrived. They made an excellent finishing time of less than seven hours but thankfully they were still a few minutes behind us.

After a few photographs and a wash in the river we left to escape the midges and to get a hot bath back at our hotel. Jock's team finished a little after us and likewise did not hang around very long on account of the midges.

My team finished in 6hrs 40 mins. Steve W's finished in 6hrs 45mins and Jock Munro's in 7hrs 30mins.

Later that evening we all did the 'stiff legged walk' down the road to the awards ceremony. We replenished our lost fluid and discussed the performances of the day. We hadn't won any of the award classes but we had all achieved personal bests and had given it our best shot. We were genuinely proud of our efforts. A good feed. A few beers. Then another few beers later before hitting the A1 south again the following day.

Until next year then!

Oh yes! The Golden Welly Award! I almost forgot. We did actually win one award. Again. Making it twice in four years. This time it was Steve W's turn, although he blames me. (The last time was the previously mentioned Jeff B!)

I'll tell you how it all came about..........

A couple of weeks before the event Steve rang me at home stating that he would be making his own way to the event as he was going on a motorcycle tour of Europe with a few friends. His intention was to leave his friends in the south of France a day early and to travel back on his own. To be honest I didn't really listen to what he was saying and missed all the detail, the consequence of which will become obvious as I go on.

All went well for Steve in Europe and as intended he left his group of friends a day early and travelled back to Derby.

All went well for Steve in Europe and as intended he left his group of friends a day early and travelled back to Derby.

He arrived home, grabbed his gear for the event and set off on his motorcycle for Northumbria.

A few hours later he was refuelling just north of Newcastle and recognised another police team in the service station, obviously making their way to the event. They left and a few miles down the road he caught up with them at a set of traffic lights. Pulling alongside them a few friendly words were exchanged about the event and Steve roared off into the sunset arriving at Wooler a short while later.

As he rode through Wooler and past the event headquarters he noticed that there was no marquee erected as there had been in previous years. Presumably the organisers had moved indoors this year he thought. A couple of minutes later he arrived at the Ryecroft Hotel and went to the reception to collect his room key. Big Bruce, the then owner, looked at him mystified. Oh aye. We've got plenty of rooms booked for the Cheviot 2000 competitors, but that's next week.

The team in the van that Steve spoke to at the traffic lights were indeed a police team, however they were just going off walking for the weekend in preparation for the event.

Steve was not a happy chappy having travelled some 750 miles to get there, but decided then to go straight home and to not spare the horses. That was probably a mistake because on the way back he managed to activate the speed cameras in two villages on the way home!

Well done Steve!!