.png)
Dragon's Back Race Part 2 - Be the Dragon
Onto Day 2 and after a tent door malfunction had left us with an inner tent paddling pool scenario and late tent returners and early starters had meant a night punctuated by seemingly endless zipping, unzipping, rustling and clicking, ‘rejuvenated’ was not the word I used to describe myself as I set out. The relentless elevation of the day before had also left my knees feeling a bit battered so I decided to allow myself one hour of self-indulgent pity partying before cracking on with objective number one – having the most fun! Unfortunately for Sioned, who had been patiently waiting for me to pop out of camp onto the banks of Nant Gwynant, sign and dog support at the ready, my arrival past her fell within the designated pity party hour, so I can only apologise for not greeting her with my usual A game of positivity! Luckily she was not deterred, had made a new race supporter friend, and when I saw her together with work buddy Elin at the next checkpoint I was back to my usual antics – phew!
It helped that the stretch between Nant Gwynant and Maentwrog was a further dose of mountain fun with a lovely yomp up Cnicht, beautiful skies and then the hilarious scree slope/boggy descent which I half intentionally, half unintentionally completed on my arse. Technically one point of contact, this approach inadvertently won me a few places and more importantly, a lot of joy.
Back on my feet we then headed up to Moelwyn Mawr which, for the first time ever, seemed to offer up its summit quicker than expected. From Blaenau direction that peak is littered with false summits but approaching from Cnicht was ideal, one long slog and you reach the top – perfect. Then it was focusing time to not stack it on the rocky descent before the bog of doom and quintessential steam railway section of the route down to Maentwrog.
Compared to Day 1 where we all started at 6am and I spent a lot of time alone in the mist, the staggered start times from then on meant I had a much more sociable time chatting to runners and catching up with people I had met in camp or bumped into on recces. The only downside was seeing a lot more men having a wee than I had bargained for. Can’t have it all I suppose!
Whilst on this topic, I have been asked by a few people what happens when you need the loo or when to stop, and I think this was one of the things that did help me cut down on time spent out on the course each day. It wasn’t always about how fast you were moving, a lot of it was about being as efficient you could be along the way, something I think I have perfected over years of running in the mountains and taking part in longer events like the OMM and Saunders where the clock is always ticking. It is also something I have been drilling into others whilst training young people on their Duke of Edinburgh expeditions – ‘co-ordinate your faffing and no dangly bits’ being the key messaging there! For Dragon’s Back, I loved the stage element because it meant I could still faff, but I could do as much of it as possible when somebody wasn’t timing me! Yes, I did leave a bit later than I was allowed to each morning, but I made sure I’d eaten enough breakfast, got strapped up if needed, been to the toilet (essential, no wild poos for me!), applied all of the lotions and potions I needed to appease my feet, got my bag packed the way I wanted and had everything ready to go for when I got into camp. I started getting a reputation for being the quickest runner in and out of the aid station (until the last day!), I kept moving forward even when taking my jacket on and off and ran through the Co-op when picking up my paracetamol and coke, much to everyone’s amusement. I did, however, draw the line at weeing on the go, conscious of my limited supply of signature turquoise shorts (and the tolerance of my tentmates). I also didn’t want to get myself a reputation after the antics of previous events, as frequent visitors to the blog will appreciate. My proudest moment of the whole race, I have to say, was removing a tick from my leg whilst still running. Genuine. OK, it sounds extreme but over that distance the seconds turn to minutes and the minutes might even turn to hours and at a much lower cost to the body than running faster or pushing harder will demand!
OK, efficiency chat over, back to the race, sorry, quest! The support crew game stayed high for Day 2 and I got cheered on by my parents at the water point before my second Sioned spotting (cheery mode activated this time). At this point, the Rhinogydd stood between me and camp 2 and with it, a lot of memories to re-live, of various recces either walking with Recce Rachel or running solo or on joint ventures with tent compartment buddy Jackie Lee. Nothing but good memories, though it was still jarring to see the devastation caused by wildfires which had distorted the landscape since my first recce. So as I bobbed along, recounting the various adventures and misadventures and trying to find the lines we had missed first time round, it was nice to be joined by Matt Hammerton for a few miles and spend some time chatting IRL to break me out of my daydream world for a bit. As we reached the next climb up Rhinog Fawr he soon disappeared off into the mist and I remembered my promise to look after my legs for the sake of future Bethan and avoided the temptation to try and keep up. This seemed to coincide nicely with Dragon’s Fire brothers Tim and Rob who appeared for the scramble trio to reunite once again. Not sure if memories are blurring together or not here but I remember catching up with both Bronwen and Rebecca Devereux (of Black Trail Runners fame) at some point on Day 2 - the 2 Dragon’s Fire competitors we had met on a Rhinog recce a few weeks earlier. One of the things I love about this event is that it feels like we are all in it together supporting each other and it’s been so nice to read everyone’s accounts of the race afterwards as well – shared memories and shared fire to bond us forever (sorry, not sorry)!
As we left the rocky Rhinogydd behind and topped out onto the grassy slopes of Y Llethr (the highest point of the range though it gets a bit forgotten in all of the big Rhinog/little Rhinog chat), I had my first exchange with race leader Danny Smith as he motored past me. Tomas Scrivens also appeared around that time, a fellow Welsh runner who has recently joined the mighty Mynydd Du, we exchanged a few words before he went into full fell racing descent mode and disappeared into the mists below. I was surprised to catch Tomas again as we descended towards Penmaenpool and over the toll bridge, but I knew he was protecting his shins from a previous anterior tibialis injury that had forced him to withdraw from the race the previous year. I decided to power on through to camp 2 and get the flat miles done diddly done but have since wondered whether Tomas’s more conservative approach that day was a lesson I should have taken heed of!
Oh well, I steamed into the Dolgellau camp with Prodigy’s Firestarter blasting in my ears and didn’t look back. I joked in the download tent that I should have signed up to the 2-day Dragon’s Fire event, as I’d be done and dusted by then. I must confess I had already started to question my life choices when I saw that Tim and Rob had brought beers along in their drop bag, had got to enjoy camp life and arguably the best 2 days of the route and gone home injury-free (mostly) Wednesday morning. But, I was up for the full challenge, let’s see what it could bring. Huge kudos to Bryony Shircore who was flying along on Day 2 (and apparently heard me singing, which is slightly embarrassing because I only sang out loud when I thought I was alone!) and breezed into 2nd overall in the Dragon’s Fire, giving Rob a run for his money.
Camp 2 boasts an actual shower and I was lucky enough to have enough time that evening to really make the most of camp life. Volunteering last year had given me a flavour of what to expect but the reality had surpassed my every expectation. I got a lot of stick for describing the Dragon’s Back as an ‘all inclusive’ in my interview with Lowri but after years of mountain marathons where you carry your own tiny tent, it is a mud fest, you cook whatever you have carried and spend excessive amounts of time being various levels of damp, shoehorned into said tiny tent with another soggy person and lots of soggy kit, this was true luxury to me. When it was chucking it down on the first night, all I could think was – ha, I don’t have to carry a wet tent around with me tomorrow, this is brilliant! Ok, my running pack was sat in a paddling pool at the time but whatever. Having been on volunteering duty in the catering team I definitely had friends in the right places as well. There was so much support from the catering tent and it didn’t all come in the form of chips and excessive carbs, though this did of course help. Nic McNally was my camp mum, a Dragon’s Back aficionado herself, she kept me grounded and gave me much-needed daily hugs and words of wisdom. You would not have known she had won the Offa’s Dyke race, as a V60, a mere 10 days earlier. Mind. Blown.
Day 3 was a game of two halves. First, the beautiful Cadair Idris which had been towering above us since our Rhinog descent. Then, an afternoon in the Cambrian Mountains and our first taste of Mid Wales’s offerings. I left quite late on day 3 but enjoyed some solo miles up Cadair, registering the irony that my legs felt fresher that morning than when I’d done a recce with Brett shortly after the Pen y Fan fell race and associated quad-busting descent. If you know you know. Further highlights from that morning included a woman (an alleged Spine champion no less!) who was bringing the vibes and handing out shots of coke to all runners on the side of the mountain and of course my first full work fam reunion with Brett, Sioned and a full contingent of spaniels cheering me on as I summited Mynydd Moel. Bryn the dog wanted to come with me to Cadair Idris which is fair enough, lovely place. I must have got passed by Matt and Danny just before the summit and the drone captured me necking a few painkillers before the descent as my knee was still giving me a bit of grief at that point.
The descent from Cadair starts on the Ras y Gader race line so I tried not to get too carried away thinking I was in 17k race mode, downhill all the way. I remember enjoying the familiarity of the route, in a place where I feel so connected and have shared so many memories with others and alone, it felt fitting to spend this section of the route by myself, taking in that feeling of being at one with the mountains, the place I feel I truly belong. Equally, it felt profound to remember that the mountains will always be there, we are just passing through. I couldn’t help but think of our Welsh 2.9 peaks where me and Brett had been battling in wind, rain and dark and made the wise call to turn back less than 800m from the summit. The weather was definitely in my favour this time and I relished every ridgeline, every climb and every swooping descent down to Abergynolwyn. I don’t know if you’ve ever been on holiday to Abergynolwyn, but if you haven’t, you should go. Waterfall walks, train tracks, sketchy footbridges, community café, it really does have it all.
This time, it even had a Brett, cheering me on through another quick-fire water point. Knees were aching, but I felt positive, I felt good, I felt alive. I caught up to Tomas in the woods and this surprised and scared me. He is a good runner and was sat in third position overall. Was I going too fast? Trying to chat with Tomas and keep moving uphill proved to be a dangerous move and once I realised I was pushing too hard I tried to ease off, but I did pay for that for the rest of the afternoon, not able to eat very well as I’d got into that higher intensity zone. I caught up to Jackie and Sarah Ingram, winner of the Cape Wrath Ultra, and we had a chat which chilled me out again and got me back into my groove. Up Tarren y Gesail and I remembered that I had given my future self a high five during a solo recce a month or so before which made me feel ethereal, and like I should maybe seek some medical assistance. Down through the woods and into Machynlleth, I was feeling depleted as hadn’t been able to take much fuel on but some supermarket sweep action and rogue wall crossings perked me up enough to set me on my way to camp 3. The halfway point.
If you aren’t familiar with tussocks and wish to complete the Dragon’s Back you may want to manage your pace expectations for the section from Machynlleth to Pumlumon Fawr. Luckily, I had already reccied this section and was fully aware that running any part of it after the tracks subsided was a pipe dream, whatever state your knees are in. There is a floor, but you can’t see it and with each step you play the exciting game of tussock or hole? So much fun. By the time we all started the steep climb up to the trig I think everyone was happy to take crawling uphill over this tussock themed recurring nightmare.
In my head the descent from the trigpoint was a simple 4k or so into camp but in reality, the last 3 days must have taken their toll and it seemed to go on for an eternity. I was therefore delighted when I saw that fell running legend Paul Dodd (the animal) had come out on his bike to cheer me on, shortly before bumping into Ian Whinstance, the downhill don of Mynydd Du, who had popped up to do the same. As well as the incredible support from the Dragon’s Back family themselves, this sort of thing was blowing me away. I was just doing what I like to do all the time, going for a run in the mountains, but to see clubmates and friends had made the trip out to deepest, darkest Mid Wales to come and cheer me on, was unbelievable. I had to muster then and use whatever dregs of energy I had left to get myself down into camp in a respectable fashion. When I arrived, my chatty Day 2 self was missing in action, and instead I spent a lot of time assuming the horizontal position and staring at various items of clothing or food that I felt I should be doing something with. Luckily, I had written myself a rousing message to read at the end of day 3:
“If you have made it this far, fan-bloody-tastic! I hope, future Bethan, your feet are still in one piece and you don’t hate past Bethan too much! Remember, you are lucky to be able to do this crazy shit, be the person you wanted to see 20 months ago when you couldn’t make it to the Co-op. Be that person’s hope and reminder to never stop dreaming. You have been waiting your whole life for this, you just needed a medical emergency to help you realise that life is too short and you just have to go for it. Be the dragon.
Wales is your playground and questing through it is what you were born to do. Ti’n gryf.”
Be the dragon, got it. After an inordinate amount of time spent eating one meal (from one inordinately large Tupperware), I rallied enough to finally chat with some of the other Dragon’s Backers who I hadn’t had a chance to chat with before, including the lovely Sarah Ingram and Isobel Turner, 2 of the other women boshing it up at the front. Because of our morning late release times, I’d spent a lot of the first 2 days hanging out with the front men, which was great, but there were some people I just hadn’t got to talk to at all, so it was nice to share some tales and common experiences, like how boring it was getting to have to try and eat food all the time (never thought I would say that)! I was not sure at that point I’d even met everyone I was sharing a tent with, which was bizarre. Except of course for my tent compartment buddy, the famous Jackie Lee, who I had first met as she cruised past me on a descent during Llanbedr to Blaenavon fell race back in 2023, a sight I soon became familiar with in the fell races that followed. We met again volunteering at Dragon’s Back in 2025 where we’d agreed to share a tent for the pure fact that she liked to pee in a plastic pot inside the tent rather than journey out to porta loos and she wanted an understanding partner in crime, to which I could only oblige. Full disclosure (as weeing seems to be the theme of this blog), I never quite mustered the courage to pee in a pot in a tiny tent compartment so chickened out of the agreement and made the nightly vigil to the porta loo instead, wasting precious potential sleep minutes in the process! One of the many impressive things about Jackie was her ability to fill her pee pot each night without me even noticing. Unreal. Seconded only by her ability to get up and leave within an hour and pace her race to perfection, coming in second lady after claiming to ‘just be in it to complete it.’ Legend. Another great moment was when she suddenly shouted ‘scamp’ at me as I was drifting off to sleep, the name she’d been calling me in her head all week that she’d just remembered and wanted to tell me. Cheers roomie!
This is the sort of camp-life behaviour that got me through Day 4. Just. Now then, I don’t know if I have mentioned this before, but I love mountains. Which is why Day 4 had been terrifying me. There weren’t any. A hill maybe, the odd cairn, but it was mainly 75km of tracks, tussocks and worse…. road. The weather outlook was also a bit grim, with rain forecast for most of the afternoon. It was time to deploy my secret weapon – positivity. I love Day 4. Turbines. Love them. Endless fireroads. Brilliant. OK, may need an audiobook as well, so I went for ‘Ultra Women: Stories of Unstoppable Female Power’ by Emma Wilkinson and Lily Canter to provide some much-needed inspiration.
I spent the morning pretty much alone as I had set out late again and because I had been advised by (oo, name drop), Dragon’s Back FKT record holder Nat Taylor, that as the Elan Valley section wasn’t particularly mountainous (aka inspiring to me), it was better not to recce it but to take it all as a nice surprise to keep it interesting. While this approach did save me some recce time, it also meant I went wrong a bit more and spent more time in tussocksville, but I did quite enjoy listening to Wendy Dodd’s legendary endeavours whilst battling through some tussock lines and trying to harness some of her tenacity. Seeing Brett out on course and having to tell Paul Dodd to stop cycling beside me talking to me in case I got disqualified all got me some extra kilometres in the bank as they tried to convince me that though I felt broken, everyone else was very much in the same boat.
I finally conceded to putting my jacket on as I climbed up to Drygan Fawr, the one peak of the day, and then it was pure survival mode in the little train of Dragon’s Backers I found myself in, as we tried to hold off for the shelter of the woods to put extra layers on. This is where I saw former cross country buddy Amy Fulford out on course, struggling with her knee, so I was inspired to see that she’d pushed through that pain and made it to Cardiff 2 days later. Meanwhile, I was having my own battle, and had to tap into that pulmonary embolism mental resilience towards the end of the day as I continued to feel sick, unable to get the calories in, and the kilometres just kept on appearing. The final stretch on the road seemed never ending but I was lucky to find Dragon’s Back expert Ben (who I secretly nicknamed ‘robust Ben’, hope he doesn’t mind, he was just so machine-like!) and we spurred each other on for the final miles. I am sorry to my parents, who were waiting for me on the last stretch into camp, perhaps hoping for some more solid interaction from me than what I gave, which was probably limited to ‘oh hi, yes, long day, nearly there’.
I didn’t realise at the time that camp 4 would be my last camp. Perhaps I would have spent more time enjoying the hot drinks tent, printing out dragon mail or lounging around on a bean bag. I do remember course director Ian coming to meet me and Jackie at our level on said bean bags for a catch up though and telling me that they’d messed up the timings because the camp had moved so I could leave before 7.30 the next day if I wanted to. When you finish each day you download your time and they tell you your earliest start time for the next day if you’ve made good time that day, to stop people getting in before camp has been set up basically. I was quite surprised to get a 7.30 start after Day 4’s antics, especially as Day 5 is notoriously long and tough. Maybe I should have listened to Ian! 😉
Comments