Buckle up!!
The Skye Trail is an 80 mile (128 km) ish long distance hiking route that traverses the entire length of the Isle of Skye crossing the hills from the northern tip at Duntulm to the southern town of Broadford. Usually completed in 7 days, or for slightly unhinged people like me; in one day. I have had my eye on this race for a while as I spent a year living on Skye when I worked as a shepherd so it is a place close to my heart and I needed a good reason to go back for a visit. For those who do not know Skye, on a blue sky day I don’t think there is anywhere better in the world that you could be, but for the other 99% of the time it is bleak, remote and normally shrouded in fog.
I set off on a long journey up to Skye with my mum as support on the Thursday morning and stayed half way up at Loch Lomond on Thursday night. We then finished the drive to Skye on the Friday, arriving early afternoon to be blessed with wind and rain. I was trying to be optimistic but had started to stress a bit at this point as I am well known for always being cold, especially in the wet and had been literally praying to the gods for dry weather for the past month leading up to this. Absolute madness that this was the weekend when the rest of the UK reached over 35 degrees yet Skye was blessed with 60mph winds, heavy rain and temperatures not going above 10 degrees … but that is Western Scotland for you after all!
I registered at around 4pm on the Friday evening at Broadford Village Hall where I collected my race number, left my dropbag for the halfway checkpoint and met the team from GB Ultras who are always super supportive, kind and helpful. Me and mum then set about trying to find somewhere to eat and ended up waiting about an hour for a table in the pizza restaurant in Broadford which I have to say was completely worth it as the food was amazing and my carb load was now complete! We walked back to the hotel in absolutely POURING down rain and I was beginning to question my life choices before even starting the race. I got into bed at 9pm and by some miracle went straight to sleep, occasionally waking to the sound of rain and hail on the roof – ‘oh my god’ was my exact thoughts.
My alarm went off at 3am (cry) and I rolled out of bed, got dressed (in my optimistic shorts and T shirt) then made the decision to put waterproof pants and my big cosy waterproof down jacket on for my walk to the village hall. I was pleasantly surprised that at 4am it was starting to get light, albeit very windy on my walk into Broadford. I felt sleepy and sluggish and was starting to get a bit nervous about what I was about to do. I had arranged a lift with one of the volunteers up to the start (roughly 1.5hrs) but there ended up being spaces on the minibus so she sent me away on there – which also for people who know me will know I get EXTREMELY travel sick on buses so now I really started to panic lol. Luckily I was that tired that I managed to sleep a little on the bus and we got to the start in what felt like no time at all.
We arrived at Duntulm in a farmer’s field, complete with lots of sheep poo and got given our trackers. I tried to force down some oats but the early morning combined with nerves meant I didn’t get much down and felt pretty un-energetic for the fact I was about to set off running some ungodly distance. Stood in that field by the sea with the wind blowing, I was cold and apprehensive and so was extremely grateful when we eventually huddled together for a quick brief and got sent on our merry way. I had done everything I could to prep for this, had everything I needed in my (very heavy) pack and so once I got going I knew all I could do now was run.
The race starts by following the road for a couple of miles before turning onto a track that leads up to the Trotternish Ridge which is an exposed, hilly 22-mile-long ridge, normally absolutely stunning with views out onto the sea and surrounding islands, but that day was completely cloaked in clag and the first climb to get up to the ridge was a baptism of fire to say the least. My feet were soaked through within 5 minutes of leaving the road, which was always going to be the case on Skye, however I didn’t expect it to also be so cold and so I had this to contend with for the next god knows how many hours.
Once we got up onto the ridge, this is where we really felt the force of the wind – it was fierce and cold and was gusting up to 60mph which along with driving rain is pretty damn grim and not my idea of a good day out.
Looking back, that first section of the ridge was the easy bit as there was actual paths and I could run along to keep warm. The next section demanded much more time in the wind and clouds and absolutely zapped me of energy. I am a strong descender so had looked forward to the undulation of the ridge but ended up on my arse more than my feet and was by now after just a few hours, absolutely soaked to the skin. Fell shoes required!!!
I dragged myself across the rest of the ridge in what I would call pretty dangerous conditions, even for someone like myself who is used to the mountains, and eventually made it to the tourist hot spot at The Old Man of Storr where the tourists were out in full swing. I dodged my way through the crowds to the checkpoint in the carpark where I filled my bottles and briefly chatted to the volunteers. I was naïve enough to think that now we were off the ridge that the wind would die down but BOY was I wrong.
We then had to follow a path (by path I mean a faint trod through bog) and were running due south, straight into the bloody wind!! I literally felt like I was barely moving here and I daren’t look at the pace on my watch as for every step I took forward I was just being plummeted backwards. Eventually the coast turns the corner and after a big fun descent where I only managed to fall twice, I made it to Portree to the first indoor checkpoint where I saw my mum. I had managed to warm up after being able to properly run into the town and so just quickly filled my bottles, used the bathroom and chatted to mum before setting off again.
This next section followed coastal path and bits of road, again very undulating to the next checkpoint which was Braes Community Hall at 36 miles where the dropbags were waiting. Here I took my time – changed my socks and t shirt, ate some food and re-organised my pack. This was such a lovely warm checkpoint with helpful, kind volunteers and a nice chance to chat to some of the other runners. After around 15/20 minutes I headed out the door again, cheese on toast in hand and trotted down the road.
This next section was boggy track in between sections of road and some very big hills before heading back onto a coastal path heading towards Sligachan – the views down this sea loch are honestly stunning – getting to see the Cuillins for the first time that day was so lovely and I started to really appreciate where I was and was beaming about being back on Skye. I saw a few locals along these stretches of road and they were friendly and encouraging and it really perked me up. I made it to the campsite at Sligachan at 42 miles after ending up waist deep in bog just before it, probably to every campers amusement, and again filled my bottles and saw mum who was waiting for me with extra clothes and best of all dry socks!! I popped on some blister plasters just in case as I could feel some slight rubbing and changed into my waterproof socks – by now my feet had been wet for about 10 hours which is not the nicest feeling.
For anyone who knows Skye, you will know how much I really mean it when I say that Sligachan is beautiful – located where the Black Cuillin meets the western seaboard, this is where so many people come to see this famous viewpoint of the Red and Black Cuillin with Glen Sligachan between them. I ended up doing quite a lot of daydreaming here which was a nice distraction – having lived on Skye I recalled days I had spent climbing and running on these hills and it was nice to have made memories here before that weren’t as grim as the present. However no sooner had I set off running up the Glen, the heavens opened again and the thunder rumbled right overhead – it was like it was perfectly on cue for me starting my journey up the glen and I thought this might be a bad sign!
There is a good path up the glen but because of the recent heavy rain most of it was completely underwater and I was entirely soaked through yet again even having put my full waterproofs on a few hours ago. It was nice to be able to run at decent pace here though even if every step did splash right up to my head. Eventually the glen ends at the beautiful Camasunary Bay which is one of the most peaceful, secluded beaches you can find and there was a marshal waiting here to direct us up and over the pass as the route had changed due to coastal erosion. Though there was a proper track up and out of this bay, it was absolutely brutal – soooo steep and long and my legs did not feel remotely ok.
After what felt like literally hours (which it probably was) I re-joined the road and headed towards Elgol. You would think being back on the road for a bit would be a blessing but this section of road is ridiculously undulating and we were once again heading straight into the wind and I felt so fatigued and fed up. Mum drove past me on the road as she had been following me on the tracker and said she would meet me at Elgol Village Hall which was the next checkpoint at 56 miles. It was getting dark just as I reached the hall and when I saw mum I told her that was it – I wanted to quit, I was freezing cold, fed up and exhausted. (Thanks mum (not) for literally replying ‘ok let’s go home’ when you were supposed to be encouraging me to carry on!!)
Once inside the hall I got changed into some warmer clothes and was given tea and pasta by the volunteers who were locals from the village and so so kind! I was really struggling to warm up and was unable to eat anything probably due to a mix of fatigue and being cold and I ended up staying in this checkpoint for a long time, maybe around an hour or so but I didn’t actually look at the clock as I didn’t want to know. It took a lot of mental strength for me to stand up in that checkpoint and say ok I’m carrying on then head out of the door and I really didn’t know if I had made the right decision or not because I felt like death. I had gone into the checkpoint in third place which had brought my spirits up a bit but after messing around for so long I think I ended up dropping to fifth here before I even left. It is a really hard feeling to look around and see others runners looking strong, but if I’ve learnt anything from long distance running it’s that just because someone looks ok does not mean they are and a few of these people who had looked strong in this checkpoint actually ended up dropping out.
Out I went into the night, battered by the wind again but at this point it had stopped raining and the sun was setting out on the sea – it was a beautiful sight and really helped me to feel better about my decision to carry on. I phoned Eth who was on Jura at the time having run the Jura Fell Race that day and I told him my plan to carry on – he was encouraging as always but told me to be careful going into the night, especially with nav, which he knows is not my strong point.
After heading along the road for a while, the route re-joins a coastal path which was again pure bog up over my ankles and I ended up on my arse multiple times yet again. I passed tiny cottages with their fires lit and started dreaming about being curled up on the sofa with a cup of tea – an image that stayed fixed in my head for the rest of the race. I then got passed by two very speedy ladies which I thought would make me feel worse than it did but I actually ended up feeling really proud of them and admired how strong they were, especially when I knew how terrible and exhausted I felt myself.
This section felt long, I could hear the waves crashing on the rocks in the darkness and I ended up taking not one but two wrong turns and had to backtrack both times. Running with a headtorch on can be tricky, especially when trying to conserve battery and I think my general lack of concentration and interest in the whole thing by now was just costing me time. My chest was not in a good way and I was really struggling with my breathing, which I am guessing was due to my asthma being exasperated by the ridiculous length of time I had been running.
By some absolute miracle I was found in the pitch black at around midnight by the loveliest chap ever. We found the path together which was literal bog up to our shins this time, completely un-runnable and basically a complete death trap through bits of marsh and forestry – safe to say I did not have a clue where I was. This man I had bumped into, whose name was Ady, was the reason I finished this race and that is a fact. Without his kind words to distract me from the suffering and his even kinder crew who bundled me into their warm van and fed me throughout the night (not something that is ok in any other circumstances), I really don’t think there would have been much chance that I would have reached the finish line.
We ran together to the next checkpoint which was the final one at 64 miles. I kept telling Ady and his crew that I really wanted to just quit and go home but deep down I knew I was going to finish now and after leaving this checkpoint I knew there wasn’t an option to actually quit as it follows coastal paths in some of the most remote parts of Skye that would take hours for anyone else to reach so we were committed whether we liked it or not. At multiple points during the night I was absolutely convinced that I could hear some dying wild animal nearby and asked Ady if he could also hear this, but after looking around we came to realise the noise was actually coming from me; my chest was wheezing … not a great sign I have to say.
Again the path was not remotely flat, with big climbs and steep descents, and at one point I even shocked Ady by proclaiming ‘f*cking hell’ when I saw one of the descents which we then had a giggle about. We literally death marched for 7 hours in driving rain after leaving that last checkpoint and shared lots of stories with one another, plans for future races and places we hoped to visit. I generally tend to be someone who enjoys running alone and being in my own company and often avoid conversation in these long races, but me and Ady just clicked – whether this be from shared suffering or common interest I don’t know, but I do know that I have found a friend for life who I will hopefully share future adventures with.
The sun started coming up at around 4am but it wasn’t the pretty sunrise I had hoped for in the weeks prior and was more of just a faint glow coming through the fog and rain out at sea, but it was a nice feeling to think we had survived the night and were getting ever so slightly closer to the finish line. We passed a few people on this last section who were in varying degrees of suffering and provided words of encouragement – this is where I once again felt very grateful to have being taken under Ady’s wing as I was so glad that wasn’t me out there by myself alone with my thoughts and the horrendous weather.
The path eventually turned into a gravel track and we knew we were less than 5 miles away from Broadford and I think this really cheered us both up and we smiled for the first time in a while. At this point I think we both knew without having to even say it, that we wanted to finish in under 24 hours and so we picked up the pace as best we could. We trotted along and edged closer and closer to civilisation and then out of nowhere I spotted my mum and then Ady’s crew who cheered us on. We broke into a run, if you could call it that, our faces must have been a picture because after that many miles I can tell you that running does not come naturally and we crossed the finish line at Broadford Village Hall. We were handed our medals, both of which were gold medals (the first 25 finishers get a gold medal) and finished in a time of 23 hours and 54 minutes! Hugs all round followed by a warm cup of tea and then I just wanted to get back and have a hot shower and lay down.
Despite all this suffering I put myself through to finish this race I can say that I will absolutely be running a long race again – I seem to enjoy putting myself through hard things just to prove I can do them. I love the challenge it takes to both physically and mentally to keep going through hard times and the feeling of accomplishment afterwards is always worth it.
Annie Garside
Stats:
Distance: 83 miles / 135km
Elevation: 5563m
Time: 23hrs 54mins
Position: 6th Lady / 23rd Overall
Falls: Unlimited
Thoughts about quitting: 1000000x
