Mike Jordan

23 July, 2012

Nephin is not a mountain that likes having hill runners on it but that doesn’t mean it can’t make for an enjoyable race in challenging terrain and conditions. You have to walk up it. The wind wants to send you straight down the north face. The mist and cairns want to lead you astray. The mountain wants you to remember that it made you work hard for it.

The car park was full and the pre-race banter was good. The mountain didn’t look as foreboding as I expected. It probably helped that the top 150m were covered in cloud and that I had already accepted the truth – I’d be walking most of the way up. Maps were inspected, advice shared, and despite the small numbers I couldn’t help but notice that the whole island was well represented. Mick dispensed some simple advice – ‘Keep the hole on your left’. Good advice but easier said than done.

At 12 o’clock 20 runners toed the (red and white tape) line. There were 3 early starters out there already. A few words of encouragement from Vivian and we were off. After maybe 200m the group became single file following the river up the valley behind the leader Tom Blackburn. Jog while you can was the order. Down to the river at the corner of the forest and through a gap in the fence. 9 ahead of me took varying line through thick heather up the side of the spur. Alan chose the road less travelled by the river and like Robert Frost I think he was happier for it. Diane Wilson takes a better line than me and reaches the fence to the top of the spur having gained a place. Onto the spur proper and I can see the front-runners spread out ahead of me. Alan’s route choice has put him ahead of Dermot and James. I look back and see Joe Lalor cresting the spur. No more looking back. Hands on knees, every step now is an steep upward one. Most steps have been like than so far. No high heather from now on but it gets rockier on occasion. On a rocky section near the top a trail of sorts appears and I pass Julie. I saw Diane pass Julie not that long ago. She’s gained on me slightly since she passed me and I know I have to work hard if I’m going to have any chance of catching her. It’s misty now and I won’t see another person until near the end.

It’s at this point that the gale really makes its presence felt. A southerly wind that has been blocked by Nephin’s substantial bulk suddenly becomes a major player. Nephin juts out of the Mayo flatlands where there’s nothing else around for miles. If there’s a wind blowing it’s going to be felt on top of it. I can see the drop to my left and I suddenly get forced towards it. I bend over double, keep myself close to the ground and march on. Every couple of seconds a gust tries to knock me down. Sometimes I keep going. Sometimes all I can do is hold my ground. Mercifully within 5 minutes the incline eases. I stretch myself in an upright position and attempt to jog. It’s a mistake – I get blown 5m towards the north face. I kneel, laugh, and then resume shuffling towards the top with my head near my knees. I touch the trig pillar. 48 minutes for 2.5k. Nice.

I take out my compass and keep moving. My number is hanging on from 2 safety pins having been nearly blown off completely. I’m running with one hand on my chest keeping my number from blowing away and one hand gripping my compass. I follow some cairns. The wind is still howling and gusting but at no point do I remember being cold. And now it’s blowing me in the right direction, I think. I start to question myself. I know there are cairns leading down the south ridge. I need to go north. I re-check my compass. NorthEast. All good. I’m running properly now for the first time since the start. The cairns go straight on but the drop veers left. I go left. Within 2 minutes I’m confident I’m homeward bound. I’m on top of a stony but very runnable spur. I slow at a section of scree. I suddenly remember I’m in a race and make myself go faster. I keep following the spur out of the clouds. All of a sudden I go from seeing 10 metres in front of me to being able to see for miles. I spot a flat-ish area in the valley above the forest to my left and make a bee-line for it. Can’t see anyone else between me and the finish. In fact I can’t even see the finish but I know roughly where it is thanks to Alan’s big white van. I hit the corner of a fence I had seen from the road while I was hypothetically planning my descent. The first fence I was to cross had fallen down and I zip on by. The second fence had a gate open. Brilliant. I looked behind. Always a mistake. No one there with less than a kilometer to go. I go into auto-pilot and cruise down through the boggy field towards Vivan at the finish line.

Suddenly I notice something to my right. A runner galloping through the bog. James had taking a ‘wide’ line off the mountain. He was ahead but I took off in pursuit. A drain blocks our paths. James takes it in 2 steps, I clear it in one leap. 50 metres to the end and another drain. This time James clears it and I take it in 2. I stride out trying to catch him and lose my footing. Face-plant, laugh and bounce up in one fluid movement. Cross line. Shake hands. No regrets. I’ve come 8th. I know I was 11th at the top. Who hadn’t got back?

People arrived back at the start each with their own story to tell. Some had a close battle up and back (the top 3). Some managed to take good lines from the top back. Some went off the east side of the hill towards Lough Conn and contoured around the hill back. Some went off east, hit the road and followed it to the finish. Some turned back before the top because of the wind. Some went off east, hit the road, and then proceeded to thumb a lift and get a local history lesson stopping at the Titanic memorial in Lahardaun on the way (highly recommended).

At the prize-giving, Tom Blackburn and Diane Wilson were crowned race winners and Connaught Champions. Well done to both!

A hugely enjoyable and memorable race. Coupled with Mweelrea it made for a fantastic Connaught Championship. Thanks to Vivian and all the other helpers and marshalls for making it happen.