TASTING NOTES: HOWTOWN
'I'll set you off in a sec, and I'll say three, two, one, go and then...' said Jon, but hastily cut himself off, 'No, no, no!', as the front few runners - overexcited in a way that only standing in the starting field of a Lakeland AL race can make you - bounded forward a few feet, thinking they had been victim of that harshest of fell race staples: the surprise start. 'Not yet, hang on a moment!', and we lined back up with a chuckle.
Hard not to jump the gun at Howtown, keen as we all were to get cracking on this under-the-radar modern classic. This is a fell race for connoisseurs. A fell racer's fell race, if you will. The sensory experience opens with timeless notes of: entry-on-the-day for less than a tenner, a hint of freshly mown parking field, and the satisfying creak of old wooden floorboards in the Bobbin Mill. Then you come to the main body flavours: a horseshoe route around a grand arc of Lakeland fells, taking in steep climbs, fast descents, runnable grassy trods, extremely runnable alpine-style dirt paths and fantastic views, with just the faintest side-note of bracken. And then, lingering on the palette, the subtle caress of homemade tray bakes and tea, served in reusable mugs, and the opportunity for a cooling dip in the lake. A lovely vintage (is it obvious that I don't drink wine?)
False start averted, we got going this year in tropical conditions and were all huffing and puffing (apart from Harry Bolton, he doesn't huff) on our way up Loadpot.
I noticed CFR superstar Joseph Dugdale's shoe was undone as he climbed in front it me. 'Your shoe's undone' I said; 'Yeah, I know', he said.
Once on the tops, things spread out a touch, as we all broke into stride. For the first third of the race me, Harry and Joseph trotted along quite happily in 1,2,3 (by which I mean to say, I could just about make out a yellow vest in the distance, closely followed by the blue and white). And then of course, Harry Holmes remembered he was in a race, shifted from first to sixth gear, and came cruising through us all.
'Your shoe’s undone' I thought I heard him say to Dugdale as he bounced past. 'Yeah, I know' said Joe (probably).
To summarise the rest of proceedings: Harry H went the right way and came in first. Harry B went the right way and came in second, Joseph D went the right way and came in third. His shoe stayed undone the whole way round. He knew, but he just didn't care, and it didn't make any difference to anything anyway. I went the wrong way, several times, picked up a blister the size of a two-pound coin (two more of those and that's next year's entry sorted, yay!), and finished 5th (behind Phil Mather), but led in Eden Runners to our second men's team prize of the year. Let's not mention that Jon doesn't give out a team prize, and let's definitely not mention that we were the only club there with enough runners to even get three finishers for the non-existent team prize anyway. It's not the trophy that counts, it's the moral victory. Grabbing her first ever win in her last ever race as 'Senior' was the ever-dedicated green-and-blue Katie Milburn, followed by Emma Nielsen and Karen Bridge who crossed the line together in a true show of Eden dominance, rounding out the women's team victory. Vet prizes through to V70s also well earned!
At some point on my pitiful slog up Place Fell, as I cursed the ineptitude of my line out of Angle Tarn Pikes, I looked down to see a lovely four-pointer antler just lying there in the grass, which I snatched up without hesitation. So, really, I won in all the ways anyone cares about. I only had to carry it another five miles, and in antler terms that's a bloody bargain. So you heard it here first folks; if you come to Howtown next year, you too could leave in possession of one of the unicorn horns of the famous Martindale red deer herd. And if not, maybe I can chop mine in half, and that's team prizes sorted for next year, eh Jon?
Given the hard, dry ground we were treated to on the day, the question must be asked, could HH have broken the course record if he had gotten stuck into an epic chase to the finish, instead of a comfortable lead? We will never know. The man has not been seen since the race - presumably he had to jump straight back in his time machine and return to 1982 so as to continue with the career in the adult entertainment film industry for which his outstanding mullet and enviable moustache must surely be accessories.
'So', I hear you cry, ‘when will I get to experience the Howtown Fell Race?'
Well damn, it happens every year! That's right, annually. Yes, you did just miss it, but fret not - wallowing in your obvious and all-consuming FOMO (that's Fear Of Missing Out for anyone born before the time when HH's hairdo was first dreamed up), this is the ideal moment to get out a marker pen and circle 'Howtown' on your list for next year.
I do not want this race to be massive. It's impeccably organised but with a low-key vibe, and that's perfect. Heck, Jon doesn't even want it to be massive. Small is beautiful. BUT there's small and then there's a bit too small. All AL races deserve to be knocking on the door of 100 racers, if only to bring the ratio of marshals/helpers to runners closer to, say 1:4, rather than 1:1! This year there were 40 racers at Howtown. 40 is a lovely number, but it is a tad low for such a stonking, honking, rollicking ride as Howtown. Next year, we want more!
So, If you've not done it yet, come on, sort yerself out! Commit right now to experiencing the Magic of Martindale in 2024. Howtown is where it's at.
I can't promise you that Harry and his mullet will be there next year, but if he does show, I can promise to cut my hair into a 70's mohawk like I did when I was 10, and we can compete for most successful revival of a classic hairdo. God knows I need something that I can come close to beating him in.
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This article was originally written for The Fellrunner - the journal of the FRA - for Issue 137 (Winter 2023).
Bobby Gard-Storry
Cumbria, 2023