The Northern Traverse ultra run follows Wainwright's classic 290km coast to coast route taking in the Lake District, Yorkshire Dales, York Vale and the North York Moors. It is a route of staggering variation from coastal trails, lofty peaks and desolate moorland.

The 2023 edition had 64% finisher rate. As a comparison the 2022 edition had a slightly higher finisher rate of 74%. While daytime conditions were pretty nice for running, the nights were cold and with a biting wind on the tops and the ground very saturated underfoot which probably made it one of the more challenging years.

This was a true point to point journey, from the Irish Sea in the West to the North Sea in the East. Long distance walkers are often described as ‘pilgrims’ and actually that was a fitting way to describe the group of intrepid and excited runners who stood around on a blowy St Bees seashore waiting for the race to start at 8:30am.

It was all smiles at the start. And the cool thing about being in this slightly bonkers ultra-running community is catching up with familiar faces. Lucy, Ellie, Janie, Ian, Colin & Peter from the event team were all there, the gregarious Stu Smith along with a few brilliant guys from the Dragons Back, Kev Munt and Steve Chamberlin. A focussed but friendly Lizzie Faithful-Davies and a few others am sure I’ve forgotten to mention.

Fancy running a marathon to the Lake District and then climb 3500m?

St Bees is actually just outside the boundaries of the Lake District National Park (LDNP) and to get into the fells is just under a marathon distance. The route winds around St Bees head and you have a chance to take stock and imagine what the journey ahead will be like. 300km seems like a long long way.

When you reach the Lakes, there are four massive climbs and technical descents over a relatively short distance. When climbing you can really get into your own rhythm before focusing on coming off the fell and dropping down into the valley.

I overcooked it on the first climb and experienced painful cramp near the top. Thankfully fellow runner David Hanna who went on to have a great run was on hand and stopped to stretch out my right leg.

The weather was mainly dry and mild enough, although on the final climb before Patterdale. A cold wind whipped around the mountain, and I started to get cold with just shorts and a base layer on. On came the trusty waterproofs and the blissful wind protection that they gave.

This first section of the race and finish of the sister race, the 100km Lake District Traverse was incredible. A true mountain race with plenty of challenging terrain and far reaching views. Exhausted runners from the ‘shorter’ race gave some encouragement to us continuing on. In that moment, and after 15 hours of gruelling running, I was envious of those who got to finish there and then.

Sadly our time on the fells would come to the end in Shap.

The Moors of Mordor

Leaving the heights of the Lake District behind us and between the Shap and Kirkby Stephen support points is a grim 20 mile slog through moorland. It reminded me of the ‘dead marshes’, the evil quagmire home of the bad guys in the Lord of the Rings.

The rains of the last month had made this very wet underfoot and hard going. At night, it felt barren and desolate as hopping over mucky wet areas went on for an eternity. There was nothing but the small beam of my head lamp pointing at the next damp area.

I spent a slow eight hours battling through the dead of night across the moors and wish had teamed up with some other runners for some company. The Moors really got in my head and it was a long evening.

The funny thing is about negative thoughts on these sorts of races is how quickly they manifest into a full blown crisis. From being a little tired and bored to vehemently hating Wainwright, hating my pack and hating the world in general.

The arrival to Kirkby Stephen checkpoint was a welcome relief. Here I was caught up by the eventual women’s winner and Spine veteran, Lizze. She showed her toughness by bouncing out of the checkpoint almost immediately as I tried and failed to get a bit of sleep.

Scintillating Swaledale

After leaving the moorlands, we had a long but enjoyable climb up to Nine Standards before entering the most northern valley in the Yorkshire Dales, which blew me away. There were rolling verdant green valleys full of sheep and new born lambs dotted around in the Spring sunshine along with craggy limestone outcrops rearing up at the sides. It was truly special and unexpected, and what draws me into these types of races, exploring new areas and falling in love with them.

The sun was glorious, and I had not a care in the world that my pace had slowed right down. I was too busy enjoying the present. A quick pit stop for coffee and cake with Lee and Kev – two fantastic guys who stormed ahead.

The Vale of York & North York Moors

We left the dale for the Vale of York which marked a stark contrast to the rest of the route. It is agricultural, and flat. But quite pleasing to see the shadows of the Moors in the distance and to look back at the Dales behind you.

The vale is reached after 183km of the race and is easily the most runnable section of the race. But you have just done 183km, so are unlikely to be in prime state! Presenting another challenge to answer on the ground you feel like you should be moving over quickly.

The North York Moors get a harsh press for being a barren wasteland. But actually they are quite beautiful in their own right, with hills of a nice size and a pretty working landscape of sheep, managed grouse moors and small rural communities. As the evening turned late, I teamed up for a while with Geoff although we were to part company just off the moors, Geoff with sleep demons and I with cold struggles.

To Robin Hoods Bay!

The last 20km are the hardest. Like a big juicy carrot, the finish is dangled in front of you as you can see the sea and with the knowledge that the bulk of the race is behind you. You start to dream about crossing the finish line.

Yet between you and the finish is more boggy moorland (like the Moors of Mordor) and a tricky navigation section down the May Beck. Paths veer off in all directions and the GPX file seems to bounce all over the place. Wainwright is in no hurry to get you to the coast, and the route playfully winds its way in what feels like an oscillating pattern.

Eventually you are spat out onto the coastal path for the final descent into the finish. A steep charge down the quiet streets of St Bees and suddenly your journey is at a close with the waves of the North Sea breaking meters away from you.

I take a moment to stare out over the North Sea before giving Avalon and the dogs a big hug and a medal from a smiling Colin.

Find Your Why

I’ve reflected on this question before, after finishing the Spine and Dragons Back races and broadly speaking, this was the answer:

It's better to give these things ago, to at least try and take risks on remarkable challenges than to live a grey life of routine, comfort & tedium. You can whittle away your time and years watching Netflix or you can attempt or be involved with something which truly tests you. The elemental nature of these types of race allows you the opportunity to answer deep questions and experience personal growth.

I ran through two out of the three nights and hated it. Night one was through endless miles of boggy moorland (mentioned above) and the other night, heavily fatigued and bordering on hyperthermic (coincidentally also on the moors). The final 12 hour mentality was ‘I just want to get this done’.

It is no coincidence that the best moments of my journey were all in daylight: the Lake District, Swaledale, The North York Moors and the finish at St Bees sometimes with other runners. And my worst moments were on the top of moorland, in the darkness and alone.

Perhaps the ‘why’ needs these moments of hardship and extreme challenge. Moments when you tested rather than moments you are enjoying.

Victor Frankl puts it this way: ‘asking what the meaning of life is asking the wrong question. The right question is: what is life asking of me right now?’

So back to the moors. I didn’t want to be there but had to be there to continue the journey. I could quit. But then my response to hardship would be to give in. I wanted to continue the journey for friends and family who supported me, to friends on the event team and other runners I had met. I wanted to continue the journey for me, for all the sacrifices made to get to the start line.

All that would cease, if I quit there and then.

And actually true resilience comes from our response to challenging things in life. So in a very strange way, me ploughing though a boggy and wet area matters, it had meaning.

Reflections & Recovery

I wrote this a week after the race finished and thought interesting to discuss a few points:

Sleep: After the race, I slept on and off for the first few days, napping about every six hours but unable to get a full nights sleep. Day 4 post-race was my first night’s sleep and I had night sweats for the first few full nights sleep (waking up a clammy mess as a result of my metabolism being in over-drive).

Body condition: Feet were quite swollen and have subsided with a funny tingling feeling, a few blisters but nothing major.

Mental: My mental sharpness is only coming back a week later after being in cave-man ‘survival mode’. And am a weird paradox of feeling restless but still quite fatigued. The hardest mental element is now having this gaping hole – the race has been my focus and obsession for the last 12 months and suddenly there is nothing.

Gear: I won’t spend too much time on this other than say how grateful I was to be carrying good warm kit when moving through the night. A spontaneous pre-race purchase of a Salomon Pulse Belt from my local shop, Runners Retreat was an unexpected delight.

Success: I don’t really feel any sense of achievement with it and have itchy feet to decide on the next challenge (likely to be a Bob Graham attempt). Life is abruptly back to normal, with my companies end of year accounts due and a huge back-log of work to catch up on. The fun as always is in the journey, and the medal irrelevant.

Final Thoughts

An epic adventure and journey. Thank you to the wonderful team who supported us on our journey across the country. You have given hundreds of people a truly life affirming and meaningful experience. Thank you to fellow runners for your humour, company and being part of a wider group of ‘pilgrims’ striving to complete the journey. And lastly to my partner Avalon, for supporting me.

The Northern Traverse Race Report