Ponderosa Fell Race

‘We have hills in Wales, not fells.’ 

The barman sounded categorical, but I still liked the idea that I was now sitting snuggly by his fire after having completed another fell race, even though I’m none the wiser on the distinction.

It was the final midweek race in the calendar, and at only four miles, I figured it might be a good time to try my nearly new bargain fell shoes from Vinted. Other second-hand clothing apps are also available, but Anne has an account with Vinted, and I found these for a tenner, including postage, so it was worth a punt.

They’re currently sitting on the ground in our lean-to, caked in mud and waiting for me to clean them. If I ever see that lovely blue and yellow colouring again, I’ll be lucky.

It was a cool and rather overcast evening, with several small smatterings of rain along the way, as we headed to the Ponderosa café where registration was taking place. It was a long journey, and I can’t quite believe that I cycled here (and back again) with the cycling group last year. The hardy ladies taking our fivers were sitting outside though, unfazed by the chill, while some of us, sat in cars to wait for the starting time.

I figured that the rain, having been only light and short-lived, wouldn’t really affect the terrain as we got going. The clouds beginning to cover the tops of the hills, however, made me a little nervous, as all my previous races have been in fine sunny weather.

I was also nervous as there was no back sweeper on this race. Jeff absolutely assured me as we walked to the start, some way off from the Horseshoe Pass road that there was no need for one, given that there were marshals and almost no deviations possible. As I have managed to once get lost in a women’s loo (it had two doors!) I didn’t feel all that assured, especially as it looked like we’d be running into those clouds. Cath suggested that I keep an ear out for the sound of cars if I got way off the beaten track. 

The beaten track at the start, was nice, wide and clear. As with all the fell races I’ve done, this one began with an uphill – for about a mile – and everybody, or almost everybody, surged ahead of me. It was pleasing to find a handful at my pace or slightly below. It meant that I wouldn’t be quite on my own.

As we neared the electric pylon at the top, I was running alongside a woman called Lucy, and we realised we were pretty well matched all the way along, apart from on the gloopy mud bath towards the end, where I was struggling to keep my shoes on my feet. 

Lucy joined the group of incredible women I’ve chatted to during these races. As well as doing the Llangollen Ultra this year, she’d also completed a full Ironman triathlon in the past. It seems like I keep hanging around women for whom a 50K is par for the course. I’m quite pleased that I’ve now joined their club.

Apart from nearly flying to the ground when I misjudged a tree root, and discovering an unexpected hole where the ferns were obscuring my view, I really enjoyed the route. The clouds didn’t obscure my vision and I didn’t get lost. I didn’t need to use my hands on the uphills and my heart wasn’t in mouth during the downhills. Plus, running with company always makes for a nice day. Lucy spied the finish line ahead of us and got me running again, even though my feet were weighed down with an extra couple of kilos of mud, and we were pleased to get nicely inside the hour.

The only time I don’t bring a change of footwear is when I need to. Luckily, Wendy was able to lend me a spare pair of clean socks, and Neil was on hand to give me a piggyback over the stony ground from the car to the pub and back again. Nigel had told us that the chips in the Rose and Crown were amazing. In fact, I think that it was on this promise that so many of us Pensby Runners turned up for the race.

When we’d negotiated the narrow, winding Welsh roads to get there however, the chip pans had all been washed and put away for the night – I guess it was quite late – so all I managed to snaffle was a packet of cheese and onion crips and half an ale.

But the fire was roaring, and despite it being July, I parked myself next to it as I was now getting a tad chilly. There’s one more short race this summer, on the bank holiday weekend in August. I will hopefully have cleared the mud off my shoes by then. 

For what I paid, they were really comfortable, and their grip on the ground was noticeably better than my trail shoes. I hadn’t realised what an iconically classic pair of shoes I’d bought either, until Nigel told me. A British manufacturer, Norman Walsh made shoes that covered the feet of Olympians, footballers, rugby players and track stars, but when he collaborated with the fell-running athlete Pete Bland, to make Walsh PBs, the world’s first fell-running shoe, his name really took off. Inov8 have taken over now, but Walsh shoes are still being made, and worth having a look at.

I don’t think I do enough fell (or hill) running to warrant a new pair, so I will keep hold of these for a while. They did the job yesterday, and more importantly managed to stay on my feet in the quagmire. That’s a win.