2025 Northern Traverse 300 km – Part One
I mentally broke the race into five “marathons,” much like Barkley. The first section to Patterdale was listed as 71 km on the route map, but real distances always ended up longer on my Garmin.
After last year’s stormy 99-hour finish, I wanted to go back for a better time and to finally summit the high point—Kidsty Pike. I set a goal of finishing in 89–98 hours.
We got lucky: a stable high-pressure system settled over the area during race week. The forecast was confidently dry and sunny, though mandatory waterproofs and an insulated jacket were still required. At night, bitter easterly winds were expected.
Ilona and Phil, who also raced in 2024, drove me from our Airbnb to the start in St Bees on Saturday. The morning was dry but chilly, so I started off in long La Sportiva tights and my light Ethereal jacket. On my feet were trusty Prodigios.
After the St Bees lighthouse, the route turned inland from the coastal cliffs. I stripped down to a T-shirt and shorts and picked up the pace. The dry trails were much faster and easier to run. I reached the Ennerdale water stop in 3h22. The lakeside boulder fields and Robin Hood’s Chair slowed me down with its scramble. At Black Sail Hut, I refilled my bottles.
The climb over Grey Knotts was fairly manageable. On the other side, Ilona and Phillip were cheering at Honister Pass. I shouted that I wasn’t tired at all.
At the bottom of the hill was the Rosthwaite checkpoint (46 km in 7h42). I devoured vegan pizza and soup. The race food is some of the best I’ve had, and everything is plant-based.
The second big climb to Grasmere was tougher (11h04), and the third summit was crossed in the dark with headlamps. I reached the Patterdale drop bag aid station at 14h00. I ate well again and tried to nap in the tent, but it was freezing. I pressed on into the icy night without sleep.
2025 Northern Traverse 300 km – Part Two
From Patterdale, the route ascends to the race’s highest point. Last year, strong winds forced a reroute, so this was my first time taking the original track. I relied solely on my Garmin watch for navigation—there are no course markings, though occasional Coast to Coast signs exist.
A damp easterly wind cut to the bone. With frozen fingers, there was no way I was pulling out a paper map or phone. My headlamp reaches 200m, but dense fog and fogged-up glasses meant I couldn’t see a thing. I followed the flickering headlamps of runners above me to Rampsgill Head. Kidsty Pike, the sharp peak of the same massif, was 500m ahead. I reached it at 2:45 a.m.
I needed to descend quickly. A steep plunge down to Haweswater Reservoir lay ahead. Frosty grass was slick even with poles—many runners slid down on their butts. I laughed—until I did the same. The lakeside trail was technical in places but easy to follow.
I reached the Shap checkpoint at sunrise, 7:30 a.m., and we were allowed inside a warm building. The 100 km Lakes Traverse finishes in the same village. I ate heartily. Each checkpoint has a different menu, which is a great change of pace. I had a medic check the blisters on my soles—they said they just needed air.
Leaving Shap, I chatted with a man walking his dog—he was wearing Prodigio Pro shoes. Turns out he works for La Sportiva and recommended their new model.
The 31 km stretch to Kirkby Stephen ran through the rolling hills of Yorkshire. It was warm and sunny—running felt as easy as making hay. I reached the large drop bag aid station at 32h20 (Sunday at 4:50 p.m.). The food was delicious again. I charged my watch and iPhone.
I inflated my sleeping mat and lay down in the sleeping room. But it was so noisy I couldn’t sleep. I decided to take the risk and continue without rest, wondering what would happen next.
2025 Northern Traverse 300 km – Part Three
As the sun set Sunday, I climbed Nine Standards Rigg, right on the border between Cumbria and Yorkshire. Nobody knows who built the nine stone cairns or why. The summit is also a watershed: rain falling west flows to the Irish Sea, east to the North Sea. There's even a stone commemorating Charles and Diana’s 1981 wedding. I reached the top at 9 p.m., switched on my headlamp, and layered up. They’re building a flagstone path and bridges to protect the bog, but it’s not finished yet.
Matt, who dropped out last year, passed me with a cheerful hello. Sleep deprivation hit me hard around Tan Hill Road at 1:30 a.m. I was 3.5 hours ahead of last year's time. Near the Pennine Way signpost, I crossed part of the Spine Race route. I took in calories, but my eyes kept closing.
Around 5 a.m., I reached the Hard Level Gill time checkpoint—now only 2.5 hours ahead of my 2024 pace.
I must’ve fallen asleep standing during a long downhill. I woke up facing the sunrise. My hands were frozen, and the Garmin navigation screen had disappeared. Panic set in. My phone had the Avenza route map, and I also carried the mandatory paper map and compass.
Luckily, Chris came up from behind. I asked if I could follow him until I warmed up. Soon we caught up with Andrew, and the three of us reached Reeth together. The sun boosted both temperature and morale.
At 7:30 a.m., I sweet-talked us into free coffee and pastries at the Dales Bike Centre—though they don’t open until 9. I had visited last year too, and the kind owner remembered me.
The final stretch through farmland took time, thanks to endless gates and constant gear adjustments. Despite blisters, I ran strong on the road to Richmond, arriving at 12:32 p.m. Monday—only about an hour faster than my stormy 2024 finish. I ate and collapsed into a tent for sleep. The cutoff wasn’t until Tuesday at 4:30 a.m., so I was well ahead of it.
2025 Northern Traverse 300 km – Part Four
The Richmond–Lordstones section is officially 49 km and mostly flat. Lots of easy trail, roads, and field edges. I passed through the village of Danby Wiske at 8:22 p.m. Monday.
The final 10 km is beautiful and hilly, but it was dark and windy—so I didn’t see much. Running felt great after finally getting proper sleep in Richmond.
I spent most of this leg with Daniel and Robin. It would’ve been a dull section solo. At the A19 highway crossing, we stopped at Londis again for a snack, toilet, and coffee.
The journey to the final major aid station at Lordstones felt long, but it eventually appeared sometime before dawn. It turned out to be over 50 km. I ate well before and after a proper nap in the tent.
Soup and chips were once again a perfect meal. Potatoes really work for me. The hot soup warmed me up and was easy to eat from the required mess bowl that all runners must carry—no disposable dishware is used in this race. The vegan breakfast was also excellent.
At each checkpoint, printed motivational messages from the race’s live tracking page are handed to runners. Those little notes always lift your spirits. Thank you for the messages!
2025 Northern Traverse 300 km – Part Five
I left Lordstones for the final 64 km stretch to the finish on Tuesday morning at 8:47 a.m.—three full days into the race. Once again, I ran with Robin and Daniel, heading into the North York Moors National Park.
The route was runnable except for a few rocky hills. I felt good and eventually pulled ahead to push the pace. I passed Lion Inn in 4 hours and refilled bottles at the pub.
The road and gravel descent to Glaisdale took around 3 hours. It could’ve been faster, but I walked a bit with Neal. I dozed off in a chair at Glaisdale, just like last year.
The leg to Falling Foss’s beautiful forest checkpoint took nearly 5 hours, mainly because the uphill road from Grosmont is long and steep. I also made a couple of navigational errors—my Garmin gave some strange instructions.
Crossing the moor at night in dense fog felt surreal. I reached the Hawsker checkpoint at 87h31—more than 10 hours ahead of my 2024 time. Only 5 km of dry cliff paths remained. No problem!
I bounded down to Robin Hood’s Bay beach, where the volunteers placed a wooden medal around my neck. I tossed the stone I’d carried from St Bees into the North Sea and soaked my feet in the water. Final result: a personal best of 89:31:54. My watch showed 315 km and 8,500 meters of elevation gain.
I got a ride in an electric car to Fylingdales Hall for food at 2 a.m. Wednesday. My drop bag and suitcase from the start were waiting. I showered, slept, then had breakfast. The organizers collected my luggage and shuttled me to a bus. From Scarborough, I took the train to Manchester.
Northern Traverse is one of the best-organized trail ultramarathons out there. Sure, it’s pricey—but everything is handled fairly and responsibly. The event is eco-conscious, volunteers are compensated, and mountain rescue is always on standby. Huge kudos to Ourea Events!
This race taught me the value of smiling and staying positive, even when things get tough. Setbacks will come—but a great outcome is still possible. Maybe that lesson applies to life in general too.
