Race report by Nicky Erlen

Wincle Trout Run  – or, the one that got away.

In 2024 I read Laura Rangeley’s race report about the Wincle Trout Run, a run in the Macclesfield countryside where instead of the usual mug or medal the reward for completion was a trout. So entranced was I by the idea of a race where you are rewarded with a trout that I determined that I would make a note to enter the following year. It was irrelevant that one trout would only feed me and not the rest of the family. This race is organized by Macclesfield Harriers and Athletic Club. Like Percy Pud, you have to be quick on the uptake when entries become available. Unfortunately, I got my dates wrong so I was too late. Most would have left it at that, and that is really what I should have done, but I could not let go of that trout. So, I put my name on the waiting list with little optimism. I was somewhat surprised when I was offered a place which, with hindsight foolishly, I took up. It was only then that I began to look more carefully at the details of the race: it was a fell race, there was an ascent of 400 meters over 6 miles. I thought I had read Laura’s race report carefully, but I had obviously glossed over all the bits that made it quite clear that this was a race far outside my capabilities in my relentless pursuit of the trout. A few days before the race I received an email to say that due to the national shortage of trout (which had passed me by) there would be no trout given out at the end of the race but instead a bottle of beer! I don’t drink beer and, in any event, I did not consider a bottle of beer to be an adequate substitute for the long longed-for trout. This would have been another opportunity to give the race a miss but our plans to visit the area were in place by then.

Start of the race

With hindsight, a swim in the Nantwich brine pool the night before, a parkrun with three ascents, a walk round Hare Hill Gardens and delicious toasted banana loaf at the Wizard café in Alderley Edge were not the best preparation. The race was part of the Wincle Annual Fete which is set up in different places each year which means that the route of the race changes. This year it was at the inauspiciously named Burnt House Farm – which I now know is the most challenging of the variations – but there was no farm house, just a massive field with a marquee in the distance by which some yellow clad children were folk dancing, some old tractors, and the race registration tent. Graham did find the welly wanging but as the prizes were all sweets he surmised that this activity was really aimed at children so forwent the opportunity to display his talents. He also found some cake – Victoria sponge or Victoria sponge (both were delicious).

There had been threats of thunder storms and a yellow weather warning but the weather at Wincle was constantly changeable, one minute threatening to pour with rain and the next to overheat. In the even the weather was the one thing that wasn’t a problem and the dry conditions over the preceding weeks no doubt made the course much easier than it might have been.  The race started after the juniors’ race finished. There were some fine runners amongst them. I kept looking out for some people who I could tag along with who were there for a laugh and perhaps to take a few selfies along the way but the participants all looked far too earnest so I resigned myself to a hard slog and possibly coming last. The start is up hill followed by a long downhill all on tussocky grass with lots of cow pats with a crusty pie top and a squelchy centre. We descended down to queue at the top of a steep little gulley which took us to the first river crossing. I was somewhat alarmed to have wet feet at only .69 miles into the race but my twin skin socks worked wonders.

 

Crossing the river

After the river crossing, which was rope assisted, we ascended and ascended and ran above the river Dane which looked lovely but with a steep drop and so many trip hazards I kept my eyes on the ground. Then out of nowhere we descended into Lud’s Church described by the Visit Peak District website as “a deep moss-covered chasm … to walk down its stone steps deep into the cleft is to escape into another world.” My description would be ‘challenging’. Once I emerged, I looked at my watch to discover that I was still less than half way round, and already exhausted. The route then came out on a ridge where I was blasted by the wind and struggled to remain upright. However, there were superb panoramic views as compensation. At some point there was a bit of moorland and then a narrow path with lots of steps and a steep drop down to an area where many trees had been felled looking very bleak. At one point I was running along a drystone wall only to spot a direction arrow above my head. I had obviously missed a turn so I found myself feeling along the wall to find a way over. It was only when the group of Deeside Runners that I had kept behind me until that point shot up some rocks set into the wall that I realized where to cross. Then there was the second river crossing. The marshal told me cheerily that there was only 2 ½ k to go. No! The rest was just an uphill slog all the way to the finish and I have to say that I had lost enthusiasm with no trout to look forward to and at one point misinterpreted a route sign and had to be called back, adding no doubt minutes to my time!

Sprint finish

At the end I was given a bottle of Wibbly Wallaby but as there was no alcohol-free option I could not even offer it to Graham as reward for his patience in standing in a bleak field for an awfully long time. Would I do it again? Certainly not, even with the (false) lure of a trout. But I would encourage others to enter even if there is no trout as the whole thing was pretty spectacular. Next year it will take place on Saturday 13^th June and entries will open in February.

Striders Results: