Do you think you are good enough? Go on, do you?

(with apologies to Arnie)

As I get older and the need to go in the right direction first time becomes essential rather than desirable, I have turned to honing what navigation skills I possess. The ultimate test of mountain navigation has always been the Mountain Trial. Established in 1952, well before orienteering was a sport in the UK, it boasts a veritable Who’s Who of fell running history in its previous winners.

My first encounter with the trial was in 1989 when I navigated by looking over my shoulder to see where Wendy Dodds was. The resulting crick in my neck and flea in my ear, “Helene you could be a good fell runner if you could actually navigate”, was, as ever, directly to the point. I took note and spent time going adrift on various races. After all, what would we talk about in the pub after fell races if it wasn’t for misplacing ourselves? I persevered at orienteering events and found to my shock that orienteers simply discussed splits. The notion of “misplacement” was mine alone. A particularly nasty experience in the Swiss Karrimor where I could read neither the control descriptions (in German with international orienteering symbols) nor the map (not an OS 1:25,000) motivated me more forcefully than Wendy’s exhortations.

I continued to get lost; on the Scafell Pike race I went to Eskdale (yes I know it is an out and back course), I dropped out of an orienteering event due to having my map 180 degrees out and I have even managed run off race maps on more than one occasion. Lest it be thought that I actually might know what I am doing now, I have to admit that last month I failed to find the much needed high scoring control on the Dark and White event in Edale. The point is it all counts…as experience, and surely at some point I may even become good at it??

The trial combines these sought after navigational skills of an orienteer, with the skills of mountain craft. The latter is always a feature as controls may be placed at the bottom of difficult slopes, in the middle of boulder fields or on craggy mountain sides. Last year I embarrassingly managed to get crag bound (OK, lost) within sight of the finish of the Mountain Trial. The Mountain Trial is hard, very hard. Not an orienteering event, not a fell race but an historic way to test the ability of entrants to complete the challenge. Since its inception in 1952 it remains “possibly the hardest race in the UK”. To which I would simply like to add “possibly the best” one too.

The website (www.ldmta.org.uk) has all the details you need to know about taking part. Recently, changes have been made which allow men and women to choose whichever course they wish to compete in.

There are 3 options: Helpfully, there is a “novice” or short course for those to cut their teeth on, there is a Medium for those wanting a very good run out but not wanting to really push themselves over the edge. Then there is the Classic course. This course will give you enough to think about for 5 hours or so (for us mortals). Women first competed in it in 1953.  Sue Parkin, a prolific winner of the trial, now plots the courses for the event…in a manner challenging to fell runners and orienteers alike  This unique race has to thank her and the enthusiastic Mountain Trial Members who have kept the race alive for almost 60 years.

Which in a very long winded way brings me to my point: What is the difference between a fell runner and a road runner? Surely the ability to stay alive in a hostile environment and the ability to find one’s way around the course. So to return to my original question, do you think you are good enough? Go on, do you?