The Devil's Beeftub

The advertised course

The 2 mile Devil's Beeftub hill race was the latest race in the Dumfries Running Club Grand Prix. I don't usually do enough races to count in the Grand Prix due to other commitments, but as I was at home this weekend, I thought I might give it a go. I was told that is was a small friendly local race, with an average field of about 30-40 runners. On the day, this did not seem to be the case from the number of cars parked up at the end of the valley and, as it turned out, it was actually the last race in the Scottish championships and so had attracted a much larger stronger field than usual. There was still a local friendly element there, epitomised by the fact that the race director started the runners off wearing just his socks, as he had lent his shoes to a runner who had misplaced his fell shoes (due to martial miscommunication)  and only had his cycle shoes to run in.

The route on the ground

Those uninitiated in this event might think that a 2 mile race sounds relatively easy, but it is not for the faint hearted, as the total climb measures at about 900 feet (with a similar descent) as it is the "steepest race" in the Scottish hill running calendar. The runners line up to start, holding on to the barbed wire fence (which had to be hurdled in early editions of the race) and then dive into the bracken to start their ascent. The hillside is so steep (most of the race's climbing is done within the first quarter of a mile) that even the leaders are reduced to a "hands and feet crawl" upwards.

The reward for this climb is a rough section of alternating tussocks and ankle deep bogs, before reaching another fence that must be climbed. After this the route becomes more runnable with a few sharp ascents and descents to the final summit, so most people alternate between running and power walking.

The final quarter mile is a lesson in controlled falling, which is why the race is known as the steepest one of the Scottish hill running circuit. A burn must then be hurdled on the final sprint into the (very welcome) finish before the legs give out completely.

Pre-race with a couple of DRC club mates

I had a steady start (ie I ended started plum-last after getting my foot caught in bracken right at the off) but managed to work my way past a good part of the field on the initial steep climb. I tried the "hands on knees" approach but found that practically crawling up using my hands to grab/push off the ground was quicker. As I passed one of my clubmates, he grabbed me by the shoulder as if he wanted me to pull him up the hill, which did seem slightly inappropriate for a "race" and nearly caused me to fall backwards downhill again. 



The uphill crawl...

I could hardly believe it when I reached the flag at the top of the climb, gasping for breath, and looked at my watch.....we been going for less than 0.2 of a mile. It wasn't much better on this section, as it was hardly runnable but for different reasons. The ground was very rough and tussocky, and if you managed to avoid twisting an ankle on a tussock, then said ankle was probably covered in mud. There wasn't much of a route to pick, but as everyone was going the same way (the race instruction at the pre-race briefing was that if you saw an uphill on your right, then you'd gone the wrong way) it wasn't really possibly to pass anyone so I had to go the speed of the runner in front of me.

I managed to dodge past just before we had to climb a fence to get onto the next section, which was actually a better "path" underfoot. Although the day itself was dry, there had been an awful lots of rain in the preceding few days and so there were many ankle deep bogs that tried their best to suck your shoes off. 

Climbing to the last highpoint

This section did suit me better and I managed to pass several people with a combination of running and power walking, though lost a couple of places again down a steep muddy descent to a col.

There was a small burn to rockhop over before the final short sharp climb, so I made up the lost places and several more. A marshal tried to encourage everyone by saying we were almost at the top with just the descent ahead of us.....which I heard with mounting dread....I would definitely have rather gone on climbing for longer!

My friend Doug had climbed up the final hill to support all of our club runners, so it was nice to get a shout of encouragement as I rounded the summit cairn before heading off the edge....

I had been told that you could pick the best line down if you looked across at a certain point on the other side of the Beeftub, but there was no way that I was looking anywhere but towards my feet. It was so steep that initially I couldn't even the finish down on the valley bottom. I managed to keep a bit of pace up down the first steep descent (laughing slightly as one of the guys that I'd just managed to catch on the last climb told me to "dance down") though I couldn't decide if it was safer to have my feet pointing across or down the slope.

The start/finish area from the hilltop

Surprisingly, nobody passed me on this section, and then suddenly the finish line came into view. It appeared to be a long way away distance-wise as the race leaders (probably already sitting around chatting) were just small dots, but it also appeared to be directly below me.....eek!

Not only did this next section involve steep downhill, but there were also large patches of bracken to negotiate, rocks to avoid, and slippy mud to skid in. As I started to tense up a couple of men shot past, so I tried to relax and follow them. The track I was following straight down through the bracken had been made into a bit of a mudslide friend by earlier runners going for it with a lot less trepidation, so I wished I had the long legged bounce of another friend that bypassed me, leaping over the bracken as if it were nothing.

At the bottom of the hill there was a little ridge to run over....designed to catch the descending legs out, a small burn to leap and then a few metres to sprint in to the finish. I was quietly pleased with myself that only 5 men had passed me on that downhill.....but there was just not quite enough distance to sprint to gain a place back, but all in all I felt I'd acquitted myself well, though I'm still not sure I'll ever be a hill runner!