by Mark Smith

Galloway hills, 45 miles and 5200 meters of ascent, are some of the most brutal terrain of any hills I know in the UK. No GPS allowed, and you must complete the event as a team of four….what an awesome concept.

Having not been able to race since completing the 2022 Dragons Back due to a badly broken ankle, this was always going to be a bit of a test (mentally and for the ankle). So when Alastair Meldrum whom I had completed CWU and DBR with in the previous couple of years, asked me to join a team to take on the challenge, I was right up for it, despite still being eight kilograms overweight and not having run more than 19 miles in one go over the past 18 months.

Three out of four of our team knew the Galloways pretty well, so we knew what to expect from the event, but what we didn’t factor in was the weather. I had been tracking it all week and the forecast was deteriorating every time I checked. Time to pull the big boy pants up and get on with it.

The plan wasn’t necessarily to race but to get around as quickly as we could. I think we were all pretty pleased with the outcome: the first (and solitary) male-only team…also, I think, the oldest team in the race. To be honest, I was just happy to get around, I am not sure whether the Crown should be approached as a race. It’s more of a crazy adventure that tests your teamwork, navigation skills (in the dark), and resilience as well as your running ability (not that we did much running) and mental fortitude.

Anyone who has taken on the Donalds/Corbetts and Grahams will know the Galloways. No Munros this far south, but these hills give truth to the saying that the smaller hills of Scotland are harder than most of the Munros. Hardly any paths, difficult access, no obvious summits.

Doing this in the dark is fun. These hills have a character of their own, unlike any I know in the UK - even the names are unique - Curleywee, the Little Spear, Cragmasheenie, the Range of the Awful Hand, Mulwhacher (thankfully, this hill was off route) and passing features like the ‘murder hole’ and the old grey man of the Merrick.

Getting used to running as a team was an interesting dynamic. Still, the sense of shared adventure was a huge plus for me in this event (especially with the uncertainty of my ankle). I am not sure I would have completed it on my own, but I certainly wasn’t going to let my teammates down.

Even though we knew the hills pretty well, there were a few moments of navigational farce to contend with: finding the vertical gully on Curleywee, taking the wrong line off Cairngarroch and ending up in the most horrific tussock field in the dark. Finding the cairn on Darrou in the torrential rain at midnight with no GPS was a particular highlight and as for the final descent to Bruce’s Stone (interestingly down the route of the Merrick hill race), was the final kick from a route that had it all.

The race would have been at the limit anyway, but factor in several inches of rainfall from 11 pm until 5 am whilst staying permanently over 600 meters (fortunately, the wind was behind us for most of this 10-mile stretch) and then the onset of a named storm for the return leg.

Bow Fell (40 miles away as the crow flies) registered winds of 100 mph on Saturday morning, and that felt about right.

One of the lasting memories I will have is watching Alastair get blown five meters sideways and then dumped on his arse at the summit of Kirreoch Hill (second to last major summit). There was talk of diverting us via a low-level route for the run home (which I think may have been tougher than the race route), missing out the crux of the Awful Hand, I would have gladly taken it if offered, but on reflection, I am glad the organisers stuck with it and let us complete the course.

You set off on a staggered start 30 minutes apart (which means you can’t follow anyone). The two leading groups caught up with us just after halfway; the sight of lights appearing on the hills above and behind us on the Rhinns of Kells was awesome, and then being chased down by Nicky Spinks over Sheil Hill, Craigmasheenie and Shalloch on Minnoch was an experience.

In terms of organisation, the Mountain Rescue Teams were first class. Some even stayed on the hilltops in that weather for hours to see us through. The guys who lit the summit on Meikle Millyea without shelter were total heroes. The aid stations with soup, tea, cakes, and warm fires also added a really welcome break from the conditions and were supportive throughout.

Hats off to Nicky for bringing this route back to life. It’s definitely one for the lovers of something a bit different. I have never repeated a race…but I might make an exception for this one.

Massive thanks to Mark Smith for sharing his experiences of Bruce Crown’s Race with us.

Mark is a Pyllon athlete and coached by Grant Macdonald.

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