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Ian Allan -
“Much has now been said, written and reported
about 70 Wild Miles. A great variety of people have taken part,
helped out, donated money to, or in some cases, done all these things.
Why? I hear you ask and what's the attraction? Simple. It's enjoyment and
the satisfaction of meeting together with a broad section of the public
and doing some good along the way. As reported elsewhere in this Site, 70
Wild Miles enjoys a route which covers some of the most beautiful
parts of Scotland. But let me tell you briefly about some of the other
attractions on offer from this unique Highland triathlon..... Take part and you'll be up early
for the 7:30 am start at white Corries Ski Centre. You'll be dispatched at
one minute intervals by some rather "rough round the edges"
cyclists who wouldn't dream of cycling 47 miles without the assistance of
a 1000cc engine! Rough they may look and, I suppose, a bit rough they may
be but these chaps have hearts as big as Buchaille Etive Mor and they are
all there to provide the results service armed with the stopwatches and
laptops they keep in their panniers. As you pass Tyndrum and Dalmally,
stop for a drink or give a wave to the many Scottish Venture Scouts who
provide the marshalling and feeding stations. Together with the flying
timekeepers from the Special K Motorcycle Club, you'll see the Venture
Scouts popping up though out the day.
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Will Whitmore - Three Go Wild in the Country “Thirteen hours after we left reading, Lee Rankin, Phil McConnell and Will Whitmore arrived in Glen Coe in Scotland ready to take on the 70 Wild Mile Challenge. Hell of a journey broken only by a stop to watch the X zone.....'Phil McConnell. He's done it. Oh no, the bike's not working. This could be the greatest upset'. We were knackered when we got there so it was straight to bed for about 7 hours kip and then a quick breakfast before rushing down to the start. Seemed we were a bit late getting there but we got changed in double quick time and hammered off on the 47 mile course. Lee led from the front with Phil and I following as fast as we could along the undulating course. The long climbs were tough but there were a fair few downhill stretches too. The scenery was breathtaking enough to divert my mind from a butt that murdered and the fine weather helped us to put in some decent times. Lee came in at 1 hour 49 minutes, with Phil at 1:53 and myself at 1:57. A few eyebrows were raised but this was only the beginning...... After a quick refuelling stop it was time for the kayak leg. Phil
and Lee both had basic general purpose plastic kayaks whereas I had
managed to get hold of a sleek racing shell, christened 'the shark' by the
lads. Well I had to try something to get in front of Lee. We all jumped in
our boats and entered the loch ready for the 10 mile course. Lee had
obviously noted the dangerous potential of my shark because as I paddled
over to him and drew near he rammed me at full speed...well, nudged me in
the side. So as the rest of the pack prepared for the starter's gun I was
floundering around in the ball shrinking water next to my capsized canoe.
Despite my unfortunate position I couldn't stop laughing while all around
other kayakers whistled and cheered. Phil and Lee were also seeing the
funny side but unfortunately for Lee he laughed so hard his kayak capsized
and he joined me in the water. I was now being rescued by the excellent
back-up boats and as my sides ached I looked over to see Lee clinging to
the side of his kayak and wetting his pants. Phil was keeping well out of
it and defending us from the other kayakers who were scoffing at our
obvious lack of experience. I was placed back in my kayak and promptly
fell out again. This had the effect of turning what had been a bit of fun
into a pretty worrying set of circumstances. I had to go 10 miles in this
thing. As the race started Lee and I were being refloated on the shore. We
paddled along the edge successfully for a few minutes but I was then told
I needed to cross the loch. It just wasn't happening. The waves were a
couple of feet high and each one tossed me around like a half-cut weeble.
Stability wasn't in the game plan and before long I was freezing and
upside down again. The rescuers in the back-up boat were now somewhat
concerned about me and as they rescued me again they questioned my choice
of equipment and well-being. I was shaking like a pneumatic drill, my face
had turned blue and my teeth could be heard chattering in Glasgow. So that
was my race over. I was retired to the RNLI lifeboat and wrapped in
blankets, sat by a heater and given cocoa to shake over my anxious
assistants. Gutted but survived. Lee bravely fought on for about 3 miles
before succumbing to near hypothermia and being rescued. Apparently a
rather tidy lifesaver took all his kit off and wrapped herself around him
to warm him up. On hearing this I tossed off my blankets, rushed down to
the lake and dived in. Once ashore and cared for in the hypothermia tent,
Lee warmed up and recovered well. Which just leaves Phil. The man was a
legend. He battled along at an average speed of around 2.3 miles per hour
in a kayak that took every possible opportunity to do 180 and 360 degree
turns. With no fin or rudder and no real experience Phil made it to the
finish line without capsizing, in 3 hours and 45 minutes. By this time he
had christened his Kayak 'the clog' and any encouragement offered as he
approached the finish line was met with a torrent of obscenities. The poor
bloke was now yet another victim of the cold and was taken away to the
hypothermia tent. So the English boys hadn't fared too well, tackling the
course with no splash deck, no wet-suit and no experience, talent or
common sense whatsoever...yet Phil had done it. Fair play. And there's more. 'More?' I hear you say. Yes in-blooming-deed.
After another short recovery it was the half-marathon leg. But not just
any half marathon - this one included a climb of over 1000 feet! Lee set
off at a blistering 5 and a half minute mile pace and despite the climb
cruised home in 1 hour 24 minutes. The furthest I had ever run was 10 km
but I was pretty up-beat about it. As I went past the 7 mile mark I
rejoiced at having run further than ever before and continued to tick
along nicely until the nine mile mark despite the ever increasing incline.
The last four miles were an uphill climb from hell but I smoothly changed
gear to ease into an effortless 12 minute mile pace. How the crowd laughed
and thrilled at my good humour as despite the ordeals of the day I still
managed to entertain them with a Charlie Chaplin walk for the last 2
miles. 'Hardest thing I've ever done' I thought as I crossed the line in a
time of 1:43. And as for Phil, well we thought that he'd struggle
following the kayak of death, but the man strode on. The only one of the
trio to complete the 70 Wild Miles as he crossed the line in 1:47 and a
total time of 7 hours and 25 minutes. Top man! We resisted the temptation
to hold a ceremonial burning of our kayaks but as Lee strapped them back
to our car he heard a group of people excitedly telling a tale. 'I don't
know what happened. He couldn't do it. He didn't even start. Capsized. He
was fit though. And 6 foot 8 tall. 6 foot 8!' Reciting this and exerts
from the X zone added to the fun and banter of the weekend which ended
with a 7 hour drive back home. We all plan to go back next year but
there's a certain discipline we plan to be better prepared for....”
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Craig
Brackenridge. Anyone involved back then will remember the cases of sunburn and heat exhaustion as we basked in the high 80's. Most of the runners had passed, all opting for water and some for a Mars bar - noticeably few, well none actually, choosing the syrup! We had the cups nicely laid out in the shade so we could easily pass them to the runners when Phil managed to knock one over, spilling the syrup on to the grass. This incidentally was the only syrup used up all day! Fair enough, you ask, but the syrup had stained the grass a tangy looking orange colour. The day passed and when the final runner had passed we began to tidy up all the spare cups when we noticed that the area affected by the syrup spillage was now bare! Yes, the syrup had killed the grass in only 2 hours and left a bare patch of earth open to the world. No wonder nobody was drinking the stuff - we'd have had a pile of bodies half a mile up the glen! Interestingly enough, Phil and I passed the location in 1998 and there was still a perfectly round bare patch next to the fence there! “
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Serena
Miscalizzi - “Saturday morning, early start at the White Corries Ski
Centre in Glen Coe, running around for registration and to place all my
equipment in three separate vans, but I had only one thing in my mind, I
was desperate for the loo and that the loo was closed. Luckily John was
there to keep me right! Finally, with a light drizzle and pushing breeze, I started just one minute behind Jackie. The cycle route goes from the Ski Centre to Taynuilt, 49 miles of fast scenic road, magical if it wasn’t for the spurts of heavy traffic. I thought my up hill cycle technique was OK until John was shouting from the car to change gears. So that’s why my legs were spinning like the clappers for the last 15 miles! I could not understand how Jackie could cycle faster than me going up hill and then me shooting off on the flat and down hill. In all, the cycle section went brill, although, I only just managed to stay in one piece when a speeding tour bus pushed me off the road. We got to Taynuilt and in a respectable time of 2.41 for a non-cyclist who has still not worked out how to play with gears! Once completed the cycle, we had plenty of time to rest, stock up with food and drink, and to get ready for the canoe section. Very well if you are not in Scotland, you can lie in the sun, socialise with other competitors, use the massage facility provided and help your self with the massive amount of food laid out for you. BUT HERE IT IS NOT POSSIBLE. The midges were at their best, they always know how to spoil a party, also they know who to target, don’t they? Well, while I was been eating alive and forgotten about eating and drinking, Jackie managed to keep calm, got changed and had her two bagels (perhaps they like extra meat on their on their pencil)? Time flew and we were ready to set off for the ten miles up Loch Etive. This was one of the best parts of the race. The sun came out, the water was reasonably calm and the two of us were paddling well in synch according to Maggie Creber, who managed to get into the rescue boat and followed us after, unfortunately, missing out the canoe section due to an injured elbow, a real pity because I think I would have had her this time!!!!!!!! We managed to pass a few single canoes and kept our position in the middle of the field. The last two miles were hard, Jackie was silently tired, although she did say loudly ‘that this would be the last time I do 10 miles in a canoe’. I was feeling it too but found the canoe exhilarating, happy to be out there and to be able to race others who perhaps have more experience than us. I felt a bit of a cheat in the double canoe, so I promised myself to follow John and play this game a lot more. With the beach in sight Jackie was already making plans for shooting off as soon as possible. As I was in the steering position my knees and my feet were pretty sore and I could have done with a good rest. On hindsight, we should have taken much much longer before heading on the road since we would have had the time for free. However, Jackie was very keen to get going. So, I just managed to hobble from the boat, put on some running gear, go for that pee and off we went. The run through the glorious Glen Etive back to Glen Coe turned out to be the most painful 13 miles I ever attempted in my running life. Giving everything not to walk, I struggled behind Jackie’s overwhelming smiles and newsreader encouragement. I didn’t want to let her down although 13 miles of Jackie Bird bouncing ahead with the cheers of onlookers was hard. As many Boat Racers, LAMMers, HEBers and KIMMers know it takes a special ingredient to run in a team.
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