The rain began properly on the first climb. Not gentle rain, not the kind that settles into your jacket and then disappears. This was cold slush driven by wind, heavy enough to sting on contact. Behind us the mountains around Wartrail were still sharp. Ahead, the sky had tightened into a wall of grey. Visibility shrank step by step. The trail softened under our feet as the mud began to wake.
It was clear that this Skyrun was going to become something very different from the version we had all imagined.
The Week That Set the Stage
The uncertainty had begun long before race day. By Wednesday the forecasts were unanimous. Heavy rain. Strong winds. Dangerous cold at altitude. The section between Snowden and Balloch, thirty kilometres of wild terrain with no vehicle access and no rescue options in bad weather, had become a focal concern.
The organisers made the right call early and created two entirely new routes. On Thursday morning I was up at five, analysing the GPX files and drawing race cards for our Mindful Runner athletes. It was important to give them something clear to hold onto. Many had been preparing all year for the original course, and uncertainty can be unsettling if not addressed quickly. We recorded a fresh race briefing tailored to our athletes and sent everything out before the day was done. It helped shift their focus from disappointment to action. A reminder that races are not won by holding onto expectations. You adapt. You accept. You move forward.
By Friday’s registration the questions were minimal. Our athletes were ready. The real work was about to begin.
What Sweeping Really Means
Sweeping looks simple from the outside. A few people behind the last runner, collecting markers and encouraging the stragglers. On Skyrun it becomes something far more serious. In the high mountains the sweeper is the final safeguard. The person who makes sure no runner is left alone in dangerous terrain. The one who helps the cold, the injured, the frightened. In extreme situations the person who stays beside an athlete until a rescue team can reach them.
This year there were two sweeper teams.
- Ria and I were sweeping the eighty nine kilometre route.
- Richard and Short were sweeping the seventy one.
Four of us spread across a mountain that was growing wilder by the hour.
Race Morning
The start at Wartrail felt almost calm. Clouds on the peaks with occasional drizzle at ground level. Once we began climbing the truth revealed itself. The rain strengthened and grew colder with altitude. By the time we reached Checkpoint 1 our final long course runner and the remaining short course runners had already decided to withdraw. Their race ended, which meant ours changed shape immediately. Both sweeper teams were suddenly thirty minutes behind the field.
On most races that would be inconvenient. On Skyrun it is a shift in responsibility. You are no longer just sweeping. You are catching up to the point where your presence matters most.
Into the Heart of the Storm
The higher we climbed, the more the weather pressed in. Visibility narrowed to around twenty metres. The twin tracks, normally passable by motorbikes and quads, had become deep troughs of mud. Every runner who had passed earlier had churned them further.
The steep climbs became unpredictable. Slow, deliberate steps were a guarantee of falling. Quick feet were safer. You moved fast enough to find a patch of grass or a solid rock before the mud pulled you down. The descents were their own kind of chaos. Walking was impossible. Every few steps became a slide. Sometimes a long one. The only option was acceptance. Ride the slide.
When the Two Teams Became One
Somewhere in that grey tunnel the four of us linked up. The long course sweepers and the short course sweepers moving as one group. It added a welcome layer of safety. More eyes in the mist. More hands if anyone needed help. For hours we moved together, four small figures in a strip of visibility barely wider than a living room.
Decisions Under Pressure
Throughout the day was in radio comms with Adrian and Mike, the race directors. Both are experienced mountain runners and deliberate thinkers. They do not guess. They assess and decide.
My part was to share honest ground conditions from where we were moving. They took that input, combined it with reports from the rest of the team and made the appropriate decisions for the safety of the field.
Every decision they made was correct.
- Creating the alternate routes was correct.
- Avoiding Balloch Wall was correct. That slope can be treacherous even in dry conditions.
- Cutting runners at CP2 at midday was correct.
- Redirecting everyone onto the fourteen kilometre dirt road was correct.
Nothing was done lightly. Everything was shaped by what runners were facing in the moment.
The Long Run Out
By the time we reached Balloch Cave we had covered about thirty one kilometres. Our final two runners were still moving steadily. The route had been modified one last time and the final fourteen kilometres followed a muddy but safe dirt road to the finish.
We stayed with our two charges all the way. Slow progress, steady progress. By the time we reached the finish we had covered around forty two kilometres as sweepers, content that the back of the field was home.
By the Fire
Later that evening, sitting in front of a warm fire while runners traded stories, the day settled into perspective. This Skyrun was not the route anyone had trained for and not the race anyone expected. It had become something else. A day shaped by weather and teamwork. A day held together by good decisions and calm heads. A day where everyone adapted again and again until the mountain finally let us pass.
I felt grateful for the company of Ria, Richard and Short. Grateful to the athletes who managed the uncertainty with grace. Grateful to play a small role in helping people move through tough conditions safely. It was a simple kind of satisfaction, the kind that stays long after the mud is washed away.
A tough, beautiful Skyrun. The kind that reminds you why we love these mountains, even when they ask more of us than expected.
Thank you Adrian, Mike and the entire crew for that Pure Adventure