Jonothan Wright

I had been thinking about this challenge soon after reading Peter Hayes’ Swim-hiking in the Lake District and North East England several years ago.

I decided to go for an attempt on the longest day just because I like to mark the occasion every year with something outdoors (it seems to me such a natural thing to celebrate). A pre-dawn start also seemed like the right thing to do – I thought there’d be enough light in the sky to see me through the first bit without a head torch.

Moot Hall and bleary-eyed (did I mention that I’d only managed 20 minutes sleep?!)

However, on arrival in Keswick I realised that the track leading up to Latrigg would still be a bit gloomy amongst the trees, especially as there was a fair bit of mist and cloud hanging around. So to spare myself from the tree root trip hazards, I took the torch, just for the first 20 minutes (then had to carry it for the next 17 hours or so!).

I had been able to recce many sections of the run and had done all of the swims before, so was feeling fairly happy with the route. (Bassenthwaite and Derwent combined made for a good first experience of proper swim-hiking. Crummock and Buttermere is also a popular choice and it’s great to read about so many, including the youngsters getting stuck into this – with the right support of course).

However, it had been many years since my last walk up Skiddaw and in the gloom I wasn’t sure of the path – I couldn’t recall the path split and unfortunately gambled incorrectly that the left hand fork was the one to take (stopping to check the map wasn’t for me this early into the challenge!) I started climbing Little Man before realising my mistake and had to traverse across the open moor to get back on track. There were a few other instances of spotting a better line to take – after I’d done the section in question, but then just getting out there and giving it a go, solo and unsupported, was part of the attraction for me in taking on this challenge.

Pre-dawn (just) on Skiddaw on the longest day.

Feeling relieved at having ticked off FG ‘checkpoint’ 1, I was soon trotting down through the woods and starting to contemplate the first swim. I was dismayed to see the wind had got up and big waves were racing down the length of Bassenthwaite. No option for it but to just get on with it! I ended up doing a fair amount of breaststroke (unusual for me) as I was still getting used to the idea of being in the water that early in the morning and coping with the waves! A heavy rain shower passed over during the swim but I couldn’t be any wetter!

Looking down from Barf at the first swim.

The ascent of Barf was over sooner than expected. Lord’s Seat and Ullister quickly followed and my prep work on the tracks in Whinlatter meant that I was soon down through the forest. Taking on board the “Ditch the hitchers” message, I made use of the tap outside the Whinlatter Visitors’ Centre to rinse everything through.

Grisedale Pike, Hopegill Head and Sand Hill were all a bit of a misty blur and the climbing was starting to slow. Reaching Crag Hill my spirits lifted as I gained my first glimpse of blue sky – looking back over Grisedale Pike and Skiddaw already ticked off! I deliberately chose the slightly longer but more gentle line up to Crag Hill, just to give me a chance to eat a bit more than I had been managing. I also started having a few doubts here about whether I’d get round, given the state of my legs. That long, solo swim across Derwent at the end of the day was weighing on my mind!

Still to come ... Whiteless Pike and later ... Red Pike and High Stile.

A fun descent from Wandope!

The other side of Crummock, thinking about the slog up to Mellbreak – I wasn’t looking forwards to that!

Looking back on some of leg 2.

I was thinking perhaps of leaving the FG route after swimming Crummock and just treating it as a fun day out, possibly swimming Buttermere, then getting the bus back. On reaching Low Ling Crag I realised I wasn’t that far off my plan, so pushed on. However I didn’t get the best of lines through the bracken and this was where my time ‘cushion’ started to vanish.The never ending path to Red Pike – this was where I started to suffer in the heat! That climb just went on for ages and my energy was going.

After the boulder fields of High Stile ... the bracken. In fact, there was a fairly decent path still through it all. The earlier climb to Mellbreak was worse. As a sufferer of post-Lyme Disease syndrome, I’m very aware of creepy crawlies lurking in the undergrowth – in fact, I kept on stopping to check my legs for hitchers as I climbed through the bracken. The horse-flies were another significant distraction throughout the afternoon! I was also trying to convince myself that the climb up to Robinson on the other side couldn’t be that bad ...

The swim across Buttermere was lovely – calm water and I was swimming well. I could probably do with acclimatising to non-wetsuit swims as changing here took longer than the actual swim! All the swims were a pleasant break from being on my feet and I felt slightly more energised after each one. So the climb to Robinson was back on the agenda.

The pain that was the climb up Hassnesshow Beck! Tortuous! On the earlier parts of the climb the fence line just next to the path offered some handholds so I could haul myself up!

Looking across from Robinson.

After what felt like half a day, I finally made it to Robinson, and had a good run down to the col. In my mind’s eye, the run off Dale Head looked great. The reality was a whole lot harder! No photos from here until Catbells as I was digging deep! Trudging up to High Spy was hard work – taking photos was far from my mind.

It was such a relief to see Catbells – the final climb. I was still wondering how choppy it might be on Derwent. If it was as bad as Bassenthwaite had been I was seriously questioning whether it would be a good idea to do the final swim – and then thinking to have come that far, and not be able to finish it off! The closer I got to the water, the more I looked for signs of how rough it might be. On the hill the wind seemed to be dropping and the temperature still rising – so much so that I had to use some of my dwindling water to cool my head down!

Some footpath closures meant a slightly longer descent to Otterbield Bay. I sat on a rock there considering my options – I’d never swum with that level of tiredness before ... but having come this far, perhaps I could make it, no matter how slowly. It was well after the last ferry by this time, but there were still a few other boats to watch out for. I managed to get the water-skiing boat’s attention, so I at least knew that they were aware of me. (I also had two bright orange tow-floats and a bright orange swim hat.)

Relieved to complete the final stage of the Derwent swim, I hauled myself out and stuffed everything away without too much care, knowing that I wouldn’t need it again and being keen to get going and finish this off. I started thinking about all the fantastic scenery and places I’d been on this journey, energised by the thought that I’d made it over all those tough sections.

I picked my way through people milling about in the streets of Keswick, sort of running, and straight to the steps of Moot Hall. The final time check and then I sat down. No fanfare, applause or crowds – just the quiet satisfaction of having completed one of my toughest challenges to date.

And finally – minus the blood, sweat and pondweed, the time sheet (below). I based my timings on Tim Mosedale’s FG report (thanks, Tim!). I was quite pleased with my pace over the first two legs but I wouldn’t read that much into the later timings as the heat of the day and lack of training were really beginning to take their toll on me. Conditions on the day are everything – knowing what I know now, I’m sure I could go at least an hour quicker, possibly more. But that’s not the point!

The Frog Graham Round, 21.6.17. Departure Moot Hall 3 a.m. Return 8.41 p.m. 17 hours and 41 minutes. Solo and unsupported. Full wetsuit used for all swims.

Iain Smith-Ward

I can't quite remember how I found out about the Frog. Probably a Facebook post or something similar. The thing that immediately grabbed me was all of it. The route. The idea. The ethos. The idea of being self sufficient on a full day out in the hills and lakes, with only yourself to sort things out.

A loosely planned round during 2016 came to naught, and with little else planned for this year, a Frog seemed the obvious thing to pass some time. I have never gone in for much of forward planning or looking for best routes. Part of the enjoyment for me is trying something new and maintaining a sense of anticipation. Just have a go and see what happens. One of my favourite sayings is 'what is the worst that can happen', eloquently answered by someone I met last year who was recycling the Frog last year with a simple answer - 'Death'. Hopefully things wouldn't get that bad! Actually, going for the round was really only a proper thought three or four days before I went... 

Setting off from the Moot Hall at 3.20am was different. I don't think many of those still up had seen a man dressed in a wet-suit and rucksack running up the main street! I was almost disappointed to not get any funny comments! Skiddaw was the same as always. Big, steep, and windy and cloudy on the top (can't remember being up there when it's been clear!), but otherwise uneventful. For some reason I had Carl Side and Ullock Pike down as checkpoints, so these were dutifully ticked off with great views underneath the cloud. Then my first error of the day. Rather than using the path off the end of the ridge, I dropped off the side straight towards Bass Lake on what I thought was a path. It wasn't. The small trod gave way quickly to heather and bilberry bushes over rocks. Lower down the fence next to the forest gave a sort of relief, then straight through the woods to gain the road before rejoining the path down to Bassenthwaite Church and the lake for the first swim. A stiff breeze was creating quite a chop, but luckily the temperature wasn't too bad, and the other side was reached just before 6.40am. 

Another quick sort of my bag, and then down the old road towards Thornthwaite and the climb up Barf. I knew these next three hills from regular orienteering events in Whinlatter, and apart from the initial climb, knew the next bit down to the forest centre was going to be the easiest part of the round. The climb up Grisedale seemed to go on for ever, going back into the cloud around the 550m level, and with it came an increasing wind. The following few hills (Hopegill Head, Sand Hill, Crag Hill and Wandope) were all visited in thick clag interspersed with rain, and then my first nav error of the day. Looking again at the map, I must have veered too far north dropping off Wandope and ended up at the col looking at the climb going up Grasmoor. Nothing fitted. No compass (school boy error!). No idea. Luckily my GPS watch has a direction feature, so after hastily changing the settings and 'walking around a bit', managed to work out which way I was going, and then back-tracking to the spur going down to Whiteless Pike. Thankfully I only lost about 10 minutes or so, but it was so close to ending my attempt. Throughout this leg the wind and rain were increasing, and I was having second thoughts about continuing once I had dropped down into the valley. The drop off Whiteless seemed endless before the up and over for Rannerdale, and down to Crummock for swim two. 

During the crossing of Rannerdale, the weather started to improve, so any excuses for not carrying

on were now just down to me. Eight and a half hours or so already done - probably back before dark

- might as well carry on... 

The small rocky promontory underneath the road went straight into deep water, so no getting in slowly to get used to the water. Fortunately, the temperature was ok, and the wind had died down to leave a relatively flat lake, so the swim across to Low Ling point was no problem. Mellbreak was a killer climb. I decided to go slightly left first, the cut up diagonally across the front of the hill for a direct approach to the summit. Boy is that slope steep!! One advantage of an 'early season' round is the bracken hasn't really got going yet which can impede forward progress considerably. After what seemed like an eon I popped out about 50m from the top, so a quick walk up to the top at 1.00pm then turn straight back on myself and start the descent. Where the path crosses Mosedale I took a slightly uphill line getting tangled in some horrible heather covered rocks before dropping on to the path towards Red Pike. Back into the cloud around the 600m mark, and the wind (and sometimes rain) was back too. Dropping off High Stile it was time for nav error 2, getting dragged to the left as I dropped and down the wrong spur going directly north, only realising when I got underneath the cloud level and was looking at Bleaberry Tarn. With luck I was using copies of the OS 1:25000 which showed a small path traversing the hillside, so followed it back round the front of the hill to gain the correct path. A stop at Comb Beck meant I could refill my drinks and sort out enough bits of food for the last 'run' section. 

Slightly worried about the next swim as I was getting fairly tired, I found a couple (Archie and Cat) on the beach skimming stones who I asked to stay until I got to the other side to check I made it ok. As I chatted to them before setting off, it turned out it was Cats' birthday, and after a quick rendition of 'Happy Birthday', saw me wobbling my way in to Buttermere at 3.45pm. The wind was still 'stiff', and the water was 'bouncy', but the crossing only took about 15 minutes, and after sorting the bag, started on the last 'monster' climb of the day - Robinson. The traverse across to Dale Head was fine before dropping down to Dalehead Tarn (I was almost tempted to swim across just for completeness!), then turn north for the final hills and home. High Spy (again back in the cloud) was hit without a problem at 18.30ish, and then time for nav error number 3. Hitting the cairn between High Spy and Maiden Moor, I stupidly thought I had travelled further along the ridge than I had and got confused before attempting to drop off to the East via Blea Crag. Luckily a gap in the clouds gave a glimpse of Grange in the valley below, so after a quick traverse back to the main ridge and the path, things were back on track. I always forget how steep and rocky Cat Bells, but once done, the final swim was the only hurdle before finishing. 

I had arranged for a friend to act as 'boat support' for the final swim. With my current level of 'knackeredness', if anything went wrong at this stage, it would be both quick and serious, so having an insurance option there was most welcome. It was actually quite nice to have someone to talk to during my resting 'floats' across Derwent! The three islands and four swims were uneventful (but long), and the shore of Calfclose Bay was eventually reached for the last 2km back to the Moot Hall. A quick couple of pictures, before a visit to the local pizza takeaway, eaten in the car once changed, and then the drive home. 

Yes - the weather could have been kinder, and I could have had some views to look at instead of cloud and rain all day, but in some ways it all added to make it feel even more special. 

For those still reading (and interested), I used an Orca RS1 Swimrun wetsuit worn for the whole round. Fortunately, the day was cool and overcast (ok - mainly cloudy and rainy!), so overheating wasn't an issue, although it was a little sweaty for the first run. The rain on every leg was useful on rinsing everything down! I ran in Salomon SLAB shoes (kept on the feet for the swimming bits). For the swims I just shoved my sac into a pull-buoy bag to keep it drier. For food I used a mixture of gels, energy drink, water, and a couple of flap-jacks. The beauty of using a swimrun suit was no extra layers were needed in the rain/wind (though I did carry some just in case). For route-finding I just had copies of the OS 1:25000 printed on waterproof paper and should have had a compass!!!  

So... a really long day, but also one of the best! I love the fact the route is less pre-defined than a BG (with differing options off Skiddaw, around Whinlatter and the climb up on to Mellbreak), and that there is a big emphasis on self-reliance. 

Note: The GPS trace from the route went AWOL somewhere between the watch and the computer, so no proper timings... (sorry! - most of the timings are approximate!!)

• Start: 3:20

• Skiddaw: 4.50

• Bass - start of swim: 6.10

• Barf: 7.00

• Lord's Seat: 7.15

• Ullister: 7.30

• Grisedale Pike: 9.10

• Hopegill Head: 9.30

• Sand Hill: 9.40

• Carl Side: 10.10

• Wandope: 10.25

• Whiteless Pike: 10.55

• Low Bank: 11.30

• Crummock - start of swim: 12.00

• Melbreak: 13.10

• Red Pike: 14.40

• High Stile: 15.00

• Horseclose Bay: 15.40

• Robinson: 17:00

• Dale Head: 17:45

• High Spy: 18:30

• Catbells: 19:25

• Derwent Water - start of swim(s): 20.00

• Moot Hall: 21:10:37

Charmian Heaton

I first heard of the Frog Graham Round in 2014 from my friend Tim Mosedale over a pint or two in the Square Orange in Keswick. I was immediately interested by this unique challenge and the fact that there is no time requirement appealed to me as I refer to myself as a Duracell Bunny – plenty of stamina to make up for my lack of speed. I am also a confident swimmer and so the lakes held no fear for me. Tim then went on to become the first person to repeat the FGR and Steve and I started to learn the route.

At the end of June 2015 I had a new right hip as my old one had become so immobile as to make walking on any slightly uneven surface hard work. I set myself the challenge of completing the Wainwrights with my new hip and to regain fitness. Seeing myself on Nicky Spinks’ Run Forever film was a really good incentive to lose weight and my thoughts turned again to the Frog Graham as Steve had already claimed the 008 certificate of completion.

I always said that I would only attempt in perfect conditions to give myself the best possible chance. I was also worried about getting to Derwentwater after dark which would make navigation and visiting the islands almost impossible. I therefore set myself a 21.5 hour schedule starting at midnight which would put me at Otterbield Bay at 8pm. I supported Nicky on her Joss Naylor Challenge on her 50th birthday on 22nd April 2017 and the following day I swam across Derwentwater in 50 minutes to test the water temperature which was fine for me having enough natural lard insulation. The weather forecast for Wednesday 3rd May looked promising and with Nicky’s words of encouragement , “move your arse”, ringing in my ears, I decided to go for it.

As it is an unsupported challenge I packed four bags of food – one for each leg – each containing a fruit teacake with cheese, salted crisps or cheddars, bar of chocolate and a cereal bar. I set off with 500ml of water as there are places on each leg to top up. I tried to sleep on Tuesday afternoon but I was going over the route in my head so eventually got up and had a good feed. Steve arrived and just before midnight we walked down to the Moot Hall where 3 girls asked if I was setting off on a Bob. “No”, said I, “I’m attempting a Frog” at which point one of the girls said that I would be the 3rd woman to complete if I was successful and that she would love to have a go too. Obviously word is getting round!! They wished me luck and at midnight I jogged off into the dark.

Climbing Skiddaw the clag came in shortly after I left the Latrigg car park and the wind got colder as I ascended. On the summit, visibility was down to a few yards and I had to use my compass to find the trig point. Then I aimed slightly off to the right to make sure that I found the steep slaty path down to Carl Side. As soon as I headed down, the clag cleared and I had wonderful views down over Keswick. When the gradient eased, I started to jog down to White Stones and then all the way down through Dodd Wood to Mirehouse and then down to Church Bay where I arrived at 3:14. Steve saw my headtorch and switched on the van headlights which shone a lovely swimway across the water.I donned my wetsuit but could not pull up the zip completely as I was too clammy. Never mind I will just have to go for it. I picked up my Chill Swim containing my backpack and poles and stepped into the water. I had changed into neoprene socks and wore my new Inov-8 Roclite 305 shoes which kept my feet lovely and warm. However water was flowing down my arms from my back as I swam which felt a bit odd but I made good progress and suddenly I felt the slippery rocks at Beck Wythop under my feet.

It was still very dark and I got a bit cold whilst getting changed but soon began to get warm as I started moving again and on the steady climb up Barf. I could turn off my headtorch as I came out of the forest and I made the summit at 05:25 which was 25 behind my schedule. Knowing that I needed to make up for lost time I jogged as much as I could to Lord’s Seat, Ullister Hill and then all the way down to the visitor centre at Winlatter where our van was parked. There was no sign of Steve and I put a handful of grass under the windscreen wiper to let him know I had gone through. He just spotted me in time to take a quick photo.

I pushed on as hard as I could up Grisedale Pike which just seems to go on forever. The cold wind picked up again and clouds were blowing in and out of the summit. I didn’t linger but pushed on to Hopegill Head and Sand Hill where I had reduced my deficit to ten minutes. I jogged down to Coledale Hause and then pushed on up to Crag Hill before a delightful run down to Wandhope and then to Whiteless Pike where I was back on schedule – hooray!! As I descended carefully to Low Bank I was watching out for Steve but there was no sign of him and I arrived at Crummock at 10:02. There was the van again and I added a small stone to the Winlatter grass on the windscreen wiper. Feeling very hungry I sat and ate my leg 2 bag of food and had a good drink before getting changed. I asked a passer-by to zip me up and set off for Low Ling Crag on the opposite bank. Once again, the swim soon passed and it was lovely getting changed in the sun and trying not to think about “Heartbreak Hill” which is Melbreak.

I knew that Leg 3 is hard but I had recce’d the route from Melbreak to Red Pike and just dug deep and got on with it. I kept looking back and the van was still parked up but where was Steve? As I climbed Red Pike the wind became very fierce and in the words of MWIS it impeded my forward progress. I was nearly blown off my feet in the col between Red Pike and High Stile and the technical descent off High Stile was tricky although thankfully bone dry. I looked down to Buttermere and was horrified to see small tornados scudding across the water lifting spray into the air. When I got down to Horse Close I sat and ate my Leg 3 bag of food whilst contemplating the prospect of what should have been a very easy ten minute swim. I put on my wetsuit and set off but once again was unable to pull my zip all the way up. The water was pretty wild and I felt myself getting quite exhausted as I was getting battered and not making much progress. I made a really big effort and finally managed to reach Crag Wood in about 30 minutes but the swim had taken its toll out of me both physically and emotionally. Thankfully Steve was there and he asked me if I was going on. I was worried about Derwentwater if the wind did not subside and I had lost too much time which would put me in the dark coming off Catbells but Idecided to press on regardless.

The ascent of Robinson was painfully slow and I seemed to have a headwind all the way around the head of the Newlands Valley, over Dale Head and then up to High Spy. I should have been able to run some of the lovely ridge past Maiden Moor to Catbells but I was shattered and when Steve came up to meet me I had a few tears. I thought I had blown it and that all my efforts were in vain. I knew that I could not swim 2k in conditions like Buttermere and I was over an hour behind my schedule and it was going dark. Then Steve told me that the cavalry had arrived in the shape of Nicky and her husband Steve, complete with a Canadian canoe – my knights in red drysuits. He also said that it was calmer in the valley and so I was still in with a chance.

I donned my wetsuit for the last time and Nicky and Steve took compass bearings on the islands. I told them that I wanted to go to the left hand side of each island where there is a gravel spit and we set off with me following Steve’s headtorch pointing back at me. They did a fantastic job and one by one I exited the water and back in again before they took a final bearing on Calf Close Bay. As we approached I could see headlights on the bank and tried to put one last effort in. My hands were getting cold though and I struggled to catch the water. Then we were there but I couldn’t stand up and fell forward onto my knees on the slippery rocks. Steve and Nicky helped me up and I set off walking with my Steve whilst Nicky and Steve got a lift to the Moot Hall with our friends Max and Lynda who had driven up specially to see me finish.

That last mile seemed to take forever but eventually I was there and I touched the Moot Hall with my friends giving me a round of applause. I must have looked a sight for sore eyes, still in my wetsuit with a big grin on my face. I had done it and fulfilled an ambition but I could not have done it without the support of very special friends who turned out in my hour of need.

The Frog Graham Round is a great route and I am very proud to have claimed the position of FGR009. Now who will be next?!?

Postscript:

So what happened to Steve at Crummock? He later told me that he was on Rannerdale Knott at 10:05 when I was sitting on the side of Crummock Water eating my Leg 2 food. We must have missed each other when I was coming down from Rannerdale but we can’t work out how!! He stayed on the hill for 2.5 hours and went up Whiteless Pike to meet me. Meanwhile I was climbing Melbreak , Red Pike and High Stile behind him. When he started to get cold he returned to the van to fine my little stone on the windscreen and was relieved to know that I was on Leg 3 somewhere. I was mightily pleased to see him when I got out of the water at Buttermere and he did a brilliant job of rallying the troops to come to my rescue.

He clearly needs more practice at this supporting lark!!

Martyn Price

Right, please grab a cuppa and something to eat as you may be here for a while.  I intended to do this some while back and it’s bad of me, particularly as what I’m about to waffle on about has pretty much monopolised my time over the past year and I know I’d regret not getting it all down while it’s (reasonably) fresh in my mind, so, here we go – the story of my  Frog Graham Round.

Not heard of it? It’s obviously owes it’s title to the more famous 42-peak circuit of the Lake District (the Bob Graham Round), but is not as well known, despite being around since 2005. The gentleman who came up with it is Peter Hayes, a university lecturer from up Durham way; he authored a book called “Swim Hiking in The English Lake District” and this is where the Frog Graham Round – or FGR – is defined. It’s a circular route of the NW Lakeland fells covering about 40 miles and 15,800ft of vertical ascent, the tricky bit is that there are four lakes to swim across enroute to the finish in Keswick. I’d heard it being talked about a few years back, but really didn’t give it too much attention until some fell-running/triathlete friends stated their intention to give it a go and I investigated further. I was surprised to find that hardly anyone had successfully done it since Peter’s inaugural round in 2005, perhaps indicative of the severity of the task but possibly simply because the fact of its existence isn’t widely known. I was immediately hooked and thought that this was something I could do, my goal there and then was to be one of the first ten people to get round.

Details on the FGR were scarce. The original version of Peter’s book is quite hard to get hold of, although you can download it from Amazon for your Kindle. A chap named Richard Walsh maintains a website that details the basics of the round, but there’s not much more. I then looked at the people who had got round thus far and the most notable was Tim Mosedale, whose name is well known in the outdoor world.  Tim is a multiple Everest summiter (that’s fairly hard isn’t it?), he’s also the bloke who in 2015 decided to raise some money for charity by doing the big Lakes triple – in this case that meant swimming the length of Windermere, cycling the Fred Whitton route (112 miles) and following that with a Bob Graham Round. Once I’d found Tim’s blog, I had some hard details of the FGR to go on.

I could spend a long time writing about my preparation for the Frog Graham Round. Those who know me and my fastidious nature will have no doubts that I recce’d the route thoroughly - a good part of which I knew pretty intimately in any case - and had a great time doing it, clocking up some serious mileage and making some appalling navigational decisions in the process. From the very outset I felt that the key to success was making it so that the four swims – across Bassenthwaite, Crummock Water, Buttermere and Derwentwater – were just incidental obstacles along the way because, perhaps surprisingly, there’s actually more feet per miles ascent in the FGR than the BGR and considerably more than long, tough fell races like the Old County Tops, so survival on the fell was going to be main thing. If I couldn’t complete each swim and follow it with a hard fell section, then it was clearly going to be a non-starter.  But how to make it so that swims were just “incidental obstacles?”  A bit tricky I thought.

Carol Morgan and Myself on an FGR Recce (High Stile)

I love swimming and picked up the reins several years back when I began to compete in the odd triathlon. However, my technique was not good and although I had a useful turn of speed over shorter distances, I felt it needed to be better for an attempt on the FGR. I had sinky legs, a number of dead spots in my stroke and a rubbish catch. I eventually cured the majority of these problems, but it was a long, long and very tiring journey for a bloke whose life is already jammed full anyway. It mostly consisted of three morning sessions a week, up at 0530 to be in the pool by 0630. I was helped along the way by my swim partner Emma, but as time went on she had to give up on our sessions due to her business expanding and early morning PT clients. It was up to me and I won’t deny I found it hard to keep the momentum going, particularly over the winter. I stuck at it though and my swim stamina slowly improved and I began to enjoy it a lot more. My body shape changed and I developed some proper swim muscle, my weak left shoulder became a thing of the past and I knew I was ready when I was knocking out 3,000 metres before going to work. I should add that as the weather got better I was swimming more and more in open water, my triathlon club has access to the lake in the middle of Ripon racecourse so I was in there whenever possible. Of course, I was also swimming the lakes of the FGR as well, however this didn’t go too well when I tried to swim across Crummock Water the week after the last snow of the year – it was icy, bitterly cold and I got out of there so fast I think I just skimmed across the surface. Not a good start really and it didn’t do my morale any good. It was the Old County Tops fell race the following week and it was a  tough outing in bad conditions, so I thought a little swim the next day would give me a good idea of where I was. I decided to swim from Calf Close Bay on Derwentwater to Rampsholme Island (the last mandatory CP on the FGR) then swim back. I was absolutely knackered, it was a real fight and gave me some idea of just how bloody hard this was going to be.

Contemplating the FGR post-OCT

Things didn’t go smoothly on the lead-up to my projected date at the end of June. For starters, I took a nasty fall while descending the back of Fleetwith Pike, this did some serious damage to my left knee and shin, moreover I managed to bruise my ribs into the bargain and as anyone who’s suffered this will tell you, it hurts like hell, particularly when you try to run. This little faux paus resulted in a visit to the minor injuries unit in Keswick where the very efficient nurse there patched me up. I think they’re very used to dealing with broken fell runners and I was seen and shoved out with commendable speed.

As if all this wasn’t bad enough, pretty much the following week I was back in the Lakes training and following a leg 2 run, did my first training swim across Bassenthwaite in horrendous conditions. It took a lot out of me (probably more than I had to give at the time) and I can remember just collapsing on the ground at Beck Wythop, too tired to get my wetsuit off and feeling that it was all too much. My companions had left me to it and retired to the warmth of their car and I felt totally alone and exhausted. I didn’t know at the time, but I was coming down with some filthy cold virus and I guess that final effort across Bassenthwaite lowered my resistance to the point where it was all systems go for Mr Virus. It was horrible, I felt absolutely crap and it was clear that one way or another, my attempt was looking shaky. As it was, the weather came along and saved me because the week leading up to my projected date was absolutely awful and it was with some relief that I cancelled. The problem now was that I had had some friends booked in to run with me on the fell, however it looked very much like hardly any of them would be available in the short term.

The diary was beginning to look very full. I’d promised to help my friend Elise on her BGR attempt on the 29th July, moreover we had the dark shadow of the UTMB looming over us in late August. There really weren’t many options, so I was more or less forced into an attempt on Saturday 23rd July and this is what transpired. I put out the call for volunteers and just came up with enough bods to do it, although it meant that most of them would be running two legs with me on the fell. This was important to me, from the very outset I’d decided that I wanted it to be a social occasion, something that I could share with some friends. Yes, I could have done it solo but I’m a sociable kind of bloke and it wouldn’t have been half as much fun without some company and not at all what I wanted. I would be carrying my own wetsuit and kit on the fell and using an inflatable swim bag to tow behind me when in the water.

The timings on the FGR are critical. You don’t have to be a genius to work out that you want to be doing the swims in daylight, moreover I wanted to finish at a decent time in the evening so that we could have a beer and celebrate afterwards. A lot of it was guesswork, but I went out there with a schedule of 14hrs 30min and fingers firmly crossed. Perhaps that’s an understatement, because I was crossing everything that would cross, muttering incantations and praying to my forefathers that this was going to go well.  It was too late to sacrifice my first-born, he’s appreciably bigger than me and would have objected.  In all seriousness though, I knew only too well how easy it would be for disaster to strike, I would be swimming alone and knew that later on in the round it was going to be a real effort.   I never did have any common sense, it’s sobering to think that in my advancing years things haven’t changed much.

We met Emma Kicks, Chris Buck and Paul Nelson at Keswick’s Moot Hall at 0345 (the FGR shares the start/finish with the BGR, it also has the same first summit) and after some nervous kit faffage we were off at 0400 on the dot. Emma and Chris had headtorches, but I hadn’t packed one, banking on dawn arriving before I really needed one. That’s pretty much as it worked out, by the time we were halfway up Latrigg the first shards of light were breaking up the darkness and I felt relaxed and in good company. I’ve done this climb up Skiddaw any number of times and knew exactly what to do, although care was needed: I was carrying a wetsuit and heavy pack, the last thing I needed was to charge up there at BGR pace and overcook it, I needed to arrive at Bassenthwaite relaxed and in good order. Skiddaw was shrouded in cloud and I knew that it was likely to burn off later in the day, however a jacket was needed to keep the chill at bay. Everyone with me knew the ground intimately and we had no problems hitting the summit and then swiftly finding the trod off down towards Carlside. I had recce’d some fast lines through the bracken that took us down to White Stones and then the track at the top of Dodd Wood, from here it was a long descent down to the visitors car park, across the road then down to Bassenthwaite Church, this is the second mandatory CP on the round. No messing about here and it was straight into my wetsuit, although I have to say that this is not as easy as you might think when you’re a bit hot and sticky after a long run down one of England’s highest mountains.

Bassenthwaite at Dawn. Paul ensuring that I really did get in the water!

There was a bit of faffage getting my kit and rucksack into the swimbag (forgot to take out goggles and they were at the bottom), but once sorted I was into the lake and very fortunately, it was calm and still. It was an easy swim, I relaxed and deliberately took it easy, breathing every 4th stroke. Every now and then I swapped sides for no other reason than to the left you have a marvellous view of Dodd and several other Lakeland fells, it felt like I was massively fortunate to be able to do this, it was a beautiful morning (around 0630 I guess) and my spirits were high.

The Frog Emerges

I might have been a bit too relaxed going across there, because I was a minute or two slower than projected, but hey, in the grand scheme of things that wasn’t going to make any difference and I was sticking to my plan that the swims had to be “mere incidentals” otherwise the scope for disaster was huge. I crossed the A66 to the layby at Beck Wythop and Chris, Emma and Paul had just beaten me to it, Helen [my wife] was there along with my clubmate Simon, both of them were going to be running on Leg 2 with me. I had a bit of trouble getting my wetsuit off, the problem was that like many others I was struggling with the physiological effects of swimming with minimal leg movement, I don’t know the real reason for this but I do know that as soon as I went from a horizontal to vertical position, cramp in my lower legs (calves, feet, adductors) struck immediately, therefore it was difficult to get the bloody wetsuit off. I don’t think this is the sort of cramp associated with electrolyte depletion, this is something else entirely – I just don’t know how to combat it. Of course you can kick more when swimming and that sort of mitigates it, but the tow float makes that much more difficult, it trails from your waist you see, so it’s the classic triathlete’s taildrag or nothing.

I eventually got sorted and on my way, the cramp stopped as soon as I began running.  Wierd eh? From Beck Wythop you cut through the woods and then come out on the Thornthwaite Road, then it’s a bit of a slog until you reach the foot of Barf, the first summit of Leg 2. I’ve stopped thinking that Barf is a funny name for a mountain, there’s nowt funny about it at all. It might be small, but it makes up for that in severity, it’s a properly steep climb to the top. Good potential for getting it all wrong too, the first time I recce’d this I went up via Slape Crag, this is – unbeknownst to me at the time – a Mountain Rescue black spot and I totally understand why!  It was getting warm and as we laboured upwards, the cold water of Bassenthwaite became a distant memory. We reached the summit 10 minutes ahead of schedule and I stopped to take in the marvellous panorama; it’s a cracking view from Barf and if you haven’t been up there, please accept my recommendation, winter or summer it just delivers.  It was turning into a lovely day, just a few clouds in the sky and I felt like I had the upper hand, I was loving it.

Myself and Simon on Grisedale Pike

Lord’s Seat and Ullister Hill came and went in a flash, then it was down the wide, alpine-like trails to Whinlatter before a brief detour onto the mountain bike trails and then to the foot of Grisedale Pike. This is a proper climb and one I’d been dreading, but it didn’t seem so bad, I was soaking up the scenery and with Simon and Helen chattering away beside me we reached the summit at 0854 precisely, I was still 10 minutes up on schedule.

On Hopegill Head

From here it’s a rocky detour to Hopegill Head (this is the little “nobble” you can see to the left of Grisedale Pike) and then what must be shortest split on any major round, just three minutes to Sand Hill. This was all familiar territory and I was moving well, we found the rocky trod up the front of Crag Hill (or Eel Crag as it’s known) and scrambled our way up the side, saving loads of time over the more boring run up to the col between it and Grasmoor.  We flew down to Wandope and on to Whiteless Pike, by now I was about 14 minutes up on schedule and believing that I could really do this, however I knew the descent down to Low Bank and Rannerdale was likely to be very overgrown and I wasn’t wrong. No way could I take my intended line, when I’d last recce’d this bit there was barely a scrap of bracken to be seen, now it was completely overgrown and I had to take the long way round. I guess I severely underestimated this bit in my schedule, because I lost 6 minutes here, but it didn’t really trouble me, truth be told I had other things on my mind: The swim across Crummock Water was looming and my issue was my wetsuit, I didn’t want to wear it. I knew it would save loads of time not to have to change in (and out) of the damned thing, but even at that very late point I hadn’t made my mind up. The weather had been quite good that week, but Crummock Water is notoriously cold …. what to do?

Crummock Water and Low Ling Crag

Running down to Rannerdale I was greeted by Emma and made up my mind: I was now 8 minutes up on schedule and wanted to maintain my advantage, it was only a shortish swim across to Low Ling Crag, how hard could it be? Now, I have to tell you that this was a very foolish decision and could have cost me dearly. Open water swimming is an inherently risky business if you don’t take proper precautions, one of those is acclimatising your body to cold water and I hadn’t, not even a bit. I jammed my rucksack and the rest of my kit and rucksack into the swim bag (it was a bit of a squeeze), on with goggles and swimcap, then away I went to worried looks from Helen, Simon and Emma. There was a diving club getting ready at the side of the water, they were all in full immersion suits and looked at me like I was mad. In retrospect, they were absolutely right.

Not One of My Better Decisions ....

Once the initial shock was over it didn’t feel too bad, but there was no doubt about it - it was bloody freezing!  I forced my face and chest down into the water to compensate for the lack of wetsuit buoyancy and tried to focus on my breathing.  It was bitterly cold though and straight away I could feel a peculiar numbness creeping across my face.  Focus.  I wanted to kick, but the swimbag behind me made it difficult, the damned thing was getting in the way.  Up the stroke rate, get the blood flowing …. got to get across quickly, I started to realise that this might not have been a smart idea, my body had definitely come to the same conclusion and had started to divert all bloodflow to vital organs and I was beginning to lock up from the waist down, heck, I knew this really wasn’t good and I was in trouble. If that wasn’t enough, I was worried that the swim bag was going to burst open, it rwas packed tight with kit and even though it was buoyant, the thing was heavy enough to be an obstruction in the water.  Looking back, I have no idea how I safely reached Low Ling Crag, it would have been easy enough to panic but I had enough about me to focus on survival and just crashing out the strokes, long strokes with a high elbow and strong pull, just aiming for the other side on auto-pilot.

Rannerdale Knotts - the View From Low Ling Crag

I could see Chris and Nick waiting for me, both looked worried.  My plan to swim around the right hand side of the crag was abandoned and I just hit the crag on the nose and clung to it, my legs immediately locking solid and the pain caused me to bite my lip hard, it was awful.  Eventually I managed to scramble out of the water , I was shaking violently and not in a good place, I guess it’s fair to say that any advantage I’d gained in not wearing a wetsuit was completely lost, massive mistake.  The weather was still OK, so I warmed up quickly enough and I was keen to get going, so dragged my fell shoes and manky socks out and wrestled them on, to be honest it was a relief to be getting back to running mode and we set off up the side of the next FGR obstacle:  Mellbreak.

If you know the Lakeland Fells, you’ll know Mellbreak.  It’s the steep-sided monster to the North of Crummock Water, quite a plateau on top and it has in fact got two summits, the South being the “proper” one.  I’d recce’d this twice before and knew it was going to be emotional, it’s terribly steep and there are no trods or walkers routes – you go up there the best way you can and hang on for dear life.  I knew from Tim’s account that there was going to be a big problem with bracken, but I didn’t really appreciate just HOW bad it was going to be, I felt like Dr Livingstone hacking through the jungle.  It was difficult enough going up something this steep without a bracken wall to hack through.  It was murder, the swim across Crummock had done me in a bit and every upwards step felt like torture, I was knackered.  Eventually we got through all that crap, but things then went a bit awry when Chris announced he wasn’t feeling too good, was turning back and would see us over at the bottom of High Stile. 

Nick and I carried on, finding the correct Mellbreak summit without difficulty and then charging on to the long descent that takes you down to Scale Beck, surprise, the bracken had grown to head-height here too. We bashed our way through and it was only by luck that we found the indistinct trod that leads down to the beck, from here it’s a climb – a long climb – up to the summit of Red Pike before going across the rocky ridge to High Stile.  This is one of the big ones that looks so forbidding when you stare down the valley, you would be forgiven for thinking it would be impossible to come down the nose via Grey Crags, however this really is the best route.  It’s actually faintly cairned, but it’s far from an easy descent and you really need your wits about you or you could end up getting to the bottom a bit faster than you’d want to.  In training I did this a few times as it’s by some margin the worst descent on the round and I estimated that a reasonable split on the day would be 28 minutes, it actually took me 37, sadly.  This is partly because I was getting a bit tired by now, partly because I was being very careful, but also because the lower slopes were predictably covered with bracken and it was a proper pain hacking through it to Horse Close.  Bracken is the curse of the FGR, the lines are too seldom trodden for them to become permanent paths, so you have to take the route as it comes.

Horse Close with Buttermere behind

As we approached Horse Close (this is the little wood on the shore of Buttermere), Nick peeled off to run around the lake and there was Chris as promised.  He looked OK, much to my relief.  Buttermere is much shallower than Crummock Water and it’s the shortest swim on the round, so I didn’t have any qualms about swimming it without a wetsuit, despite my earlier experience.  I ripped off my shirt and fell shoes, jammed all the kit back into the swimbag, googles on and I was away.  I did this swim in 6 minutes in training, today it took me a little over 7, however it was with a real sense of relief that I reached the other side and was met by Helen and Em, I was 75% of the way in and still up on schedule – I was in with a real chance of getting round, the only question now was whether leg 4 would break me before the final and longest swim across Derwentwater?

Frog Inbound - the end of the Buttermere swim.

I set off on leg 4 with Em, Simon (who had rejoined us) and Nick who had just managed to beat me with a focused dash around the end of the lake.  Leg 4 starts with an unholy climb up the back of Robinson, it’s a bit testing on fresh legs and an absolute swine when you’re tired and on your chinstrap.  It’s a funny thing, Robinson as many will know is the final summit of the Bob Graham Round and in terms of climb from Hindscarth it isn’t much at all, as you’re already fairly high up when you approach it.  This thought had lulled me into a totally false sense of security, but when I first recce’d it all that was blown straight out of the water, it’s the “Yewbarrow” of the FGR without question.  Much sweating and bad language later we hit the top and then it was a straight reverse of the BGR line down to Littledale Edge, over to Dale Head and then the Borrowdale race line down to Dale Tarn.  Spirits were high, Emma was running well and skipping along in front of us, we were enjoying ourselves and focusing on the job in hand.

Climbing High Spy

High Spy came quickly and we had no problem picking out the Anniversary Waltz racing lines back to Catbells.  This was one part of the round that I hadn’t recce’d under “exam conditions”, I’d intended to do it but events had sort of conspired against me, the result being was that I’d had a guess at the splits, a bit optimistic as it turned out.  We were all running well, but I still lost a bit of time enroute Catbells, my own fault I guess.  My advantage was all but lost at this point and I was about where I’d predicted, but this was, of course, on a 14:30 schedule so I had no reason to be unduly worried.   Lots of tourists on the summit, but we sneaked round them and bombed down the grassy line that takes you to the col where you drop off to the road and Old Brandelhow, the fell section was all but over.

On Catbells, all OK.  Note Islands Below

While all this was going on I’d been keeping an eye on Derwentwater below me, because the final and potentially biggest obstacle was looming and I had to get my head in the right place.  The wind had got up over the past few hours and I could see that there was quite a chop on the water now, not at all what I wanted to see and I was privately cursing.  Anyhow, we moved quickly downwards and very soon found ourselves at Otterbield Bay, the end was nearly in sight.  There’s a nice grassy bank to lean on there, so it was quickly on with wetsuit and kit packed, I told the others to scarper and not wait for me, I’d see them at Calf Close Bay.

I should point out that the swim across Derwentwater is not as straightforward as you might think.  For starters, it’s the longest (just over a mile) but the real twist is that you to visit three islands enroute, Otterbield, St Herbert’s and Rampsholme in that order, exiting at Calf Close Bay which is more or less parallel with the Great Wood on the Borrowdale Road.  The rules say you have to have your entire body out of the water at each island, this isn’t as easy as it sounds because the ground shoals very gradually to St Herbert’s and Rampsholme, meaning you have to snake-belly in slowly and then stand up with great care, the rocks are as slimy as hell and it would be very easy and very bad to fall over here.

The Final Swim. Looks calm doesn’t it? Wrong.

I committed my soul to the waters once again and dived in. Fate wasn’t kind to me from the outset, the bloody Derwentwater passenger steamer chose that precise moment to come across the bay and of course its wash threw me all over the place.   If I’d known what was coming I don’t think I’d have been quite so fed-up, perspective is everything.  I reached the tiny Otterbield Island very quickly and, just as I did in my recce swim the previous week, shimmied up the slimy rock and got my body out of the water.  Straight back in, around the side and I reached out for St Herbert’s, I really wanted to do this final swim justice.

Otterbield Island

I was dead tired, that last slog over the fells of leg 4 had taken the wind out of my sails and I knew it wasn’t going to be easy.   St Herberts was right ahead and as I cleared the bay, my problems really began: My suspicions about the surface state turned out to be entirely justified and beyond the shelter of the bay, the stiff SW wind was really pushing at the swell, creating a hell of a chop that both contrived to crash over my head and blow me off course.  It was coming from my “good” side too, which made things worse, I can breathe bilaterally of course, but like most swimmers have a side I prefer to breath to, in my case it’s the right.  I was now being forced to breath uniquely to the left and all things told, I was having a bit of a bad time.  Sighting was a major problem, the surface chop meant I only got a second here and there to really assimilate what was in front of me and I have to say that St Herbert’s, with its dense woodland, just blended into the treeline behind it.  It was very hard to stay on course.  This was more a fight than a swim.

Eventually, St Herberts became close enough for me to easily distinguish the shoreline.  I was having to swim well to the right of my intended destination because of the bloody wind, it was incredibly draining and being unable to breath evenly took its toll.  Eventually the ground began to shoal and as I snake-bellied in, I remembered in the nick of time that there were some big submerged rocks thereabouts and it would be easy to head-butt one, that wouldn’t have been good, although I suppose it might have knocked some sense into me.   As planned, I went wide and landed on a little bit of shoreline …. I don’t think I have the words to describe how difficult it is to stand up on those slimy rocks when your body is just running on fumes and legs threating to lock solid at a moments notice. It’s a good thing that I really wanted to do this, otherwise I might have had a bit of a Sense of Humour Failure. It’s been known.

Back in the water, clear the rocks, get deep enough to swim properly, strike out hard for Rampsholme.  Attack the water.  Breathe.  Breathe.  As I’ve said before, I love swimming but I wasn’t loving this.  As expected, at about that point I soon heard the squealing of some horrible gull above me, there is a colony of them on Rampsholme and as you get close to the island they get a bit pissed-off and start dive-bombing you – I had learned this the previous week.  It might not seem like a big deal, but it’s a bit unnerving thinking that you’re going to have some big smelly bird bury its beak in the back of your head.

I’m only flesh and blood and what I’d been through so far was enough to drain my batteries to more or less zero, I just didn’t have the energy for much more that than a poor attempt at front crawl to the next island.  I tried to glide out to the front of the stroke and pull through the water, over-rotating to my left to try and get as much air into my lungs as possible.  Eventually, I could see the ground in front of me begin to shoal and soon I was skimming over the rocks of Rampsholme, pulling myself in with my hands.  My landing spot on the South shore was OK, but I still had to stand up on the slimy rocks, I was getting very pissed-off with it all now.  No point in hanging around and the final stretch of water to Calf Close Bay was in front of me, I knew my friends would be waiting there for me and I was eager to get this over with.  Back into the water, clear the shallows, just focus!  The conditions were no better on this side of the island, but I caught a glimpse of Helen waving a towel from the shoreline and knew that I was heading in the right direction, this nightmare swim was nearly over.

Chris Doing a Bit of Frog-Watching

I pushed my chest into the water and tried to concentrate on the job in hand: rotate, high elbows, clean hand entry, push to the front of the stroke, catch …. that was the theory, but the reality was that my arms felt like useless lead weights and weirdly, I couldn’t close my fingers together properly, meaning a much reduced hold on the water.  My swimming efficiency at this point was rubbish and it was costing me, I was angry and tired.  I would have like nothing more than to simply roll over and take a rest, but in those conditions it might not have been the smartest thing to do and I was worried about being hit by cramp again, something that could have been catastrophic.

It took what felt like an eternity to swim those last few hundred yards, I didn’t have enough energy left to combat the water conditions and was forced to do exaggerated rolls so that I could suck enough air into my body, more often than not a wave would crash over me making this a pretty miserable situation.  Eventually I saw the lake bottom and the ground began to shoal, it was nearly over – thank God.  Everyone had gone to Calf Close Bay so that we could run in together and I could see Chris and Nick standing on a rock by the waterside, both looked concerned …. I guess in retrospect they were right to be  I did my final snake-belly in and tried to stand, immediately the most agonising spasms coursed through my legs, not at all what you want when you’re trying to balance on slimy, slippy rocks.  It was as dodgy as hell and really didn’t want a smashed kneecap at this stage in the game.

Glad That's Over!

It took an eternity to get properly out of the water, wriggle out of my wetsuit and jam my running shoes on.  I bundled my wetsuit and kit into my rucksack and we scrambled up the dirt bank to the path that leads round to the Borrowdale Road.  Of course, the bloody cramp disappeared as soon as I got moving, don’t ask me how or why, I’ve given up trying to work it out.  The crap conditions had meant that I took much longer than envisaged getting across Derwentwater and my schedule was blown to pieces, however I was still on for a sub-15hr round and if I got a wiggle on stood a chance of beating the existing record.  There was no messing about and Helen and Emma set a strong pace from the outset, it was just two miles to Keswick but the way I felt at that point it may as well have been twenty.

The girls knew what the score was, both have been involved in plenty of Bob Graham Rounds and the final push for the Moot Hall.  I was dead on my feet, the weight of the rucksack felt like it was going to drag me to my knees and water was slowly draining from the wetsuit and trickling down the back of my legs.  I felt cold and was ready for all this to stop, but you know, it doesn’t take much to turn your emotions around and I was being pushed and encouraged to run, not allowed to slow down and told to move my lazy arse.   I hated it to start with, it’s always hard transitioning from one medium to another and I remember well how terrible the run to Keswick had been on my own Bob Graham Round, however this was a bit different and as the town’s rooftops came into view I could smell the scent of success and my spirits lifted.  Adrenaline coursed through me and it didn’t feel like such a big deal to run anymore, we ran straight across the roundabout and into the streets, past George Fisher’s and I was dodging around bemused pedestrians, past the Dog & Gun, I was berating and yelling at myself; "run you lazy bastard, run like you never have before, push, PUSH!"  I gave those last few yards everything and practically bounced up the steps of the Moot Hall to hit the door and complete the Frog Graham Round in 14hours, 48 minutes and 37 seconds.

Unaccustomed to Success

It’s difficult to describe the euphoria of situations like this.  I can remember once feeling sad because I thought I’d never again experience the joy of completing something like the BGR or UTMB and felt massively privileged to have stood on these famous steps for a second time, it’s something very special and I was overwhelmed;  the Frog Graham Round had consumed me for most of the preceding months and I was literally beaming from ear to ear, I’d never been sure I could get round this monster – how could anyone? – because it drains you in a way that other big physical challenges cannot, but success lifted a huge weight off my shoulders.  Helen and my incredible friends Emma, Chris, Simon and Nick stood under the steps and gave me a cheer, correcting passers-by who thought they were witnessing the end of a successful BGR.  “What’s he done?  A Frog Graham Round?  Really?  What’s that? 

 ** Postcript:

Since I completed the Frog Graham Round in 2016 there have been many other individuals who have successfully completed it and in retrospect I realise that on the day I could have saved a lot of time with a few minor tweaks to my planning, however the round was still a relatively unknown quantity and some of the lines I took were being used for the very first time.  I’m proud to have been one of those who made the FGR what it is today and if you are interested in attempting it yourself, I recommend joining the dedicated Facebook group where you will find a lot of useful information, plus of course the Frog Graham website is the best resource available.  Good luck!

Tim Mosedale

THE FROG GRAHAM – DONE AND DUSTED

The Frog Graham is a running / walking / swimming event around The North Lakes, it covers 60km including 3,350m or so of swimming, 4,714m of ascent and the idea is that the person doing it is self supported (i.e. carrying their own gear).

Having arrived back from Everest a bit earlier than anticipated and feeling fit from all the trekking (but not debilitated because of the ultra high altitude) it was the perfect thing for me to get my teeth in to. It was a great motivator to get out and do something and meant that I was out training every day for 6 weeks either running or swimming or both as I fine tuned my fitness and recce’d bits of the route at the same time.

Without much in the way of data it was difficult to know what the schedule would be but I plumped for a pace that would be slightly slower than Bob Graham pace for the mountain bits, around 2kph for the swimming bits and 20 minutes either side of each lake for changing and eating.

03:00 – Start from Moot Hall – Leg 1 (up Skiddaw, down Carl Side, through Dodd Wood to Church Bay)

05:45 – Arrive Church Bay

06:00 – Enter water. Swim across Bassenthwaite

06:20 – Arrive Beck Wythop

06:40 – Set off on Leg 2 (Barf, Lords Seat, Ullister Hill, Grisedale Pike, Hopegill Head, Sand Hill, Crag Hill, Wandope, Whiteless Pike, Low Bank to Hause Point on Crummock Water)

10:25 – Arrive Hause Point

10:45 – Enter water. Swim across Crummock Water

10:55 – Arrive Low Ling Crag.

11:15 – Set off on Leg 3 (Mellbreak (S. summit), Red Pike, High Stile to Horse Close)

12:55 – Arrive Horse Close

13:15 – Enter water. Swim across Buttermere.

13:25 – Arrive Crag Wood.

13:45 – Set off on Leg 4 (Robinson, Dale Head, High Spy, Catbells to Otterbield Bay)

16:30 – Arrive Otterbield Bay.

16:50 – Enter water and swim across Derwentwater (via Otterbield Island, St Herberts and Rampsholme)

17:30 – Arrive Calf Close Bay

17:50 – Depart Calf Close Bay

18:15 – Arrive Moot Hall

I’d been in touch with Peter Hayes, the chap who came up with the concept, about whether it was in the spirit of the event to have folk along for the running sections for a blather (as long as I didn’t have any assistance from them) and he was in agreement – so I recruited a bunch of folk to run alongside and the scene was set.

The date was scheduled for Saturday 21st June, the B&B was covered in my absence and the weather forecast was great. But with less than a week to go I was unsure about how to transport my dry gear across each lake. Then Craig Dring mentioned that there was a company making what they call tow floats and ‘hey presto!’ the final piece of the jigsaw fitted in to place.

Two days later my ‘Chillswim Tow Float‘ arrived in the post. I did a trial swim with the tow float full of tins of baked beans and the scene was set for my attempt a few days later.

Unfortunately the Friday day and evening turned out to be a pretty busy affair and so it wasn’t until 23:30 that I managed to turn off the light and try and get some sleep. The alarm went all too early at 02:00 and I had less than an hour to get some breakfast down, get changed and get to The Moot Hall.

I started out with Stu Edginton and Paul Maxwell at 03:00 (we were waved off by Jonathan Nicholson) and by 03:45 there was no need for the headtorches. It was a gloriously still, cool morning with wispy clouds on most summits except for Skiddaw. There were a whole bunch of folk bivvying up there and we tagged the summit at 04:17 (which is slightly ahead of Bob Graham schedule). I put the brakes on a little bit because it’s all very well being up on schedule but if you are too far up too early then there’s a chance you’ll blow it later.

The route down to Bassenthwaite Lake was a steep slatey path down to Carl Side and then a fab run down to White Stones and on down through Dodd Wood. We arrived at Bassenthwaite Lake at 04:59 and I was in the water for 05:16. Paul decided to swim as well but had said that he didn’t want to hold me back, so after I checked back on him a few times I ‘swam like a torpedo’ (his words) and was across at 05:33.

Jonathan Nicholson was there to do some more filming along with Ian Boit who was there to accompany me on Legs 2 and 4 and we departed the lake shore at 05:45.

So far so good and 55 minutes up on my anticipated schedule. I had a little bit of a twinge in my calf so after a while we walked along the road towards Thornthwaite and then had the endless approach through the woods to Barf.

I planned on taking water from streams along the way and having filled and drank in Dodd Wood the next filling station was where the footpath leave the forested area and branches across the top of the fell side to the summit of Barf (06:35) and then on to Lord’s Seat (06:50). We kept to the track coming off Lord’s Seat and then a bit of cross country to Ullister Hill (07:01). Shortly after that I made a bit of a navigational error in the woods arriving at a track junction and turning left not realising I was a junction too early! It just didn’t feel right so we were back and forth along the trail for a few minutes and then I realised where we were and we continued on down through Whinlatter with a red squirrel sighting to lift the spirits.

The next access to water wasn’t going to be until Coledale Hause so it’s quite a way only only a litre. The sun was pretty bright as we left the woods and started up the Grisedale Grind but it was still early and consequently not too hot. We met a chap on the summit of Grisedale Pike (08:12) who was flabbergasted to be told by Ian what I was doing and he asked for a photo which was great.

On down and across to Hopegill Head (08:35) eating fudge along the way and then over Sand Hill (08:40) before stopping for a good break and litres of water at Coledale Hause. Up to this point I’d been using Vimto (my first 1/2 litre) and Mountain Fuel (my next couple of fills) and now it was over to Nuun tablets which are a bit easier to carry and use en route.

We picked up the steep ascent path and scramble up to the summit of Crag Hill (09:13) and then the trod across to Wandhope (09:23) and on down (and up) to Whiteless Pike (09:37). I’m pretty crap on descent and it’s always further than I realise off Whiteless Pike but we made good progress – although I was very aware that I was no longer up on my schedule.

I nearly made a bit of a major error as I took the path down Rannerdale when thankfully Ian reminded me that Low Bank was on the route. A quick look at the map and then a lovely run along the undulating summit to the end of Low Bank (10:10), which I’d never been along before.

And thence down to Crummock Water arriving at 10:23.

Now I was only 2 minutes up! The stop at Coledale hause had been a bit longer than I had thought and running / walking carrying my own gear whilst feeding myself along the way had evidently put me on to a slower pace than I had reckoned. I was trying to be disciplined about taking on food and whilst the jelly babies and fudge were to hand in pockets on my rucksack waistbelt I made a point of stopping every so often (usually summits) to take on ‘proper food’ … which in my case wasn’t proper at all and consisted of a pack of some small savoury eggs and a plastic box of some breaded chicken things which were on the cheap at the supermarket the other day.

The wind on Crummock Water played a little bit of havoc and caused me to drift off course quite a bit but with a few corrections I was across (arriving 10:43) and met up with Biscuit and Billy – immediately offering Billy my birthday wishes.

Once I’d unpacked the tow bag, changed and downed almost a full tube of condensed milk it was time to tackle Melbreak. The bracken was chest high, the going pretty rough, my legs were tired and we perhaps didn’t take the best line. There were quite a few sheep trods we picked up that vaguely went in the right direction but after a few hundred metres we invariably lost the trail and ended up bracken bashing until picking up another trod.

We summited Melbreak (S summit) at 11:39 then dropped quite a way to cross Black Beck (quick drink) and then made our way cross country to cross Scale Force (quick drink and a refill) after which there’s quite a way across to Lingcomb Edge and so on up to Red Pike (12:57).

It was round about here that I should have been down at Buttermere and the legs were feeling sluggish. It was now that I recalled that, in the previous 12 months, my longest run had been around 3 hours the weekend before when I had supported Nick Ogden on leg 5 on his supreme effort on The Bob Graham Round – which he completed in a staggering 19hrs 52mins. I’d had a few longish days trekking in Nepal but intrinsically most of my runs had been 1 to 2 hours – and I guess that might go some way to explaining why I was now down on schedule.

The weather was perfect – it was bright but slightly cloudy and there was a gentle breeze. We continued over to High Stile (13:13) and then made good progress down the ridge in to the lower slopes of Burtness Comb (a drink in Comb Beck) and then down to Buttermere foreshore (14:05) where I changed, packed and swam (14:10) across to Crag Wood arriving at 14:20 – 55 minutes down.

As I arrived Ian Boit was there again (having had an ice cream in Buttermere Village whilst waiting for me) and I was also met by Paul Turner (we had been put in touch with each other by Jon Gupta) who turned up from Kendal to have a craic on the hill and get involved helping out. This is the kind of thing that I love about events like this (and The Bob Graham Round in particular) – people turn up at various places at various times of day to assist someone who is trying to achieve something. Unlike the Bob Graham one of the things that is a bit more difficult with The Frog Graham is that some folk are arriving on one side of a lake, for you to then be met by others on the other side of the lake. To that end it is difficult to make the logistics and car sharing dovetail together.

Anyway, onwards and upwards. The route via Hassnesshow Beck up to the summit of Robinson is steep and endless, it was good to have the guys along for moral support and when we arrived on the summit of Robinson (15:25) Paul Maxwell was there to meet me again.

The going from here was much easier underfoot than it had been on the boulder strewn paths of Legs 2 and 3 and it was nice to be able to get the legs working again. Dalehead (16:02) is the last of the big summits but it was a bit of a struggle down to Dalehead Tarn and on up again to High Spy (16:38). I couldn’t recall whether Maiden Moor was one of the tops I had to visit so we accessed the internet on the hoof, found the itinerary and jogged past it and over Cat Bells (17:18) to meet Nick Ogden whilst descending to Derwentwater. He was brandishing a can of vanilla coke that I had to decline on account of the fact that I was sticking to the policy of carrying my own gear. Tempted … but not this time thanks.

I was met at Otterbield Bay (17:43 – 73 minutes down) by Andrew Graham and my wife Ali who were there to canoe alongside (as well as Amanda, Louisa, Phoebe, Tim and Sara Green and their kids Oliver and Isobel). I felt that as the event was reasonably long, and I’d be swimming on tired legs, that a canoe alongside would be a prudent safety feature. Having said that, when I do the event again I’ll now be happy to do the whole thing totally solo. The tow bag I was using has handles on it that would be easy enough to use for safety in the event of getting cramps and, whilst the width of Derwentwater is around 1,700m the islands are evenly spaced and you are never too far from safely.

The swim was reasonably long but I made good headway and I was met on the far side by Nick Ogden (again), Kirsten ‘Tetlow’ Ogden and Jonathan Nicholson – and for the final leg Nick and Ali accompanied me along the lake shore path back in to Keswick. By now I was well and truly goosed but the end was in sight and it was great to be finally running in to Keswick to get to The Moot Hall at 18:59 and be met by Jonathan (again), Effie, Grace and Max, Sara, Tim, Oliver and Isobel, Amanda, Louisa and Phoebe and Paul Turner (I am sure there were others but can’t remember).

All in all it was a great day out on the hill and a little bit longer than anticipated. Having said that I wasn’t sure what to anticipate in the first place so perhaps my initial estimates had just been a little bit too optimistic. I’m pretty chuffed to get in under 16 hours and surprisingly didn’t feel too stiff the next day.

I’ll be doing it again some time soon totally solo – it will be interesting to see what time I get without having a bit of moral support.

There’s nothing I’ll be doing differently … apart from the vital issue of food on the hill.

P.S. Craig Dring has just completed it 2 days ago and I know another 2 that are having a go in the next few weeks. So if you want to join an exclusive club I’d get your skates on.