Streak in the Peak

Blogs, eh? None for months, then two in a matter of days. Don't know how I forgot to mention this in my last post; this is perfect blog-fodder (blodder?).

Yup, this was pretty much as it says on the tin. A streak, in the Peak District. A fell run, sans kecks.

Not that we need an excuse, but there was a reason behind it. Jan - fellow forumite, Dark Peak Fell Runner, book swapper extraordinaire - was due to emigrate to Enza (and at time of writing, has). He therefore decided that now was the perfect time to do something the DPFR crew had threatened for a while: to trod their regular stomping ground as the Good Lord intended.

The crowd in the mist

As a result, the night before, there were 19 brave souls, ready to battle the elements in the nip. However, as dawn broke, 8 men realised what they'd signed up for. And then there were 11.

We rendezvoused at Snailsden Reservoir with a worryingly large number of spectators about (amazing what these Dark Peakers think constitutes a wholesome family day out!). Jan also invited a mate, Lee (who's own thoughts on this escapade can be found here) who put a report in to Roch Valley Radio Sports Breakfast show. The weather was grim: 4 degrees, misty, & drizzle. But I'd left home after having scraped the car in -3 degrees, so I thought it positively tropical. And besides, the mist might be best for all concerned!

The route was out to the second trig due SW from there and back. In the spirit of SITP I ran unencumbered by Garmin (just plain forgot it) but from others' I think it was 4-5mi: 2-2.5mi each way. Due to the cold, we agreed to do the outward leg fully clothed to warm up. Trig, strip, and run back. So we did.

The moment of truth, far from being awkward, was surprisingly easy to do. Resigned to it as condemned men, committed as we were? Though it did render the handshakes that we greeted each other with at the start as introductions were made unnecessarily formal. We took some pictures - just for proof, you understand; we're not weirdos or anything - and headed back.

Before

After

Can't stop the bumrush

The 'end' in sight (note dog looking at my danglies - a scary moment!)

And it was quite a nice feeling! Running along with nothing between you and the air. Now I'm not saying I'll take to this on a permanent basis (er, or at all, actually*), but I'd recommend if ever you get a chance to: give it a go. No? Oh well, each to their own...

We got back to cheers and whistles and minimal milling about before getting our clothes on again. Jan made a nice presentation to each of us: a certificate & keyring with 'I streaked the Peak' on them, a bottle of Rescue Ale, a Peperami, and a Tunnocks. Then it was all back to Holmfirth for a few restorative beers and some grub. Obviously someone ordered the jumbo hotdog, though under the circumstances a Walnut Whip might have been more appropriate...

Oh! The irony

All in all, a great day out, and a great send off for a thoroughly decent bloke.

To Jan!

Jan, resplendent

And if that weren't enough for you, there's a video, here. This is heavily edited. Only those who were there get the unedited, director's cut. What goes on the Streak...

*After this, my better half was told at work that there are reports of a bloke who furtively runs Pendle in the buff on a regular basis. She's not convinced that this person isn't me!