Trigger Race

11th January 2026 | Edale | Author Joe Lee

I won’t ever forget my first (and probably only!) Trigger on 11^th January 2026. What, at one point, was looking like a very challenging DRC group event (with 13 Bees registered) ended up with just me left from the swarm, waterproof trousers torn off me by the insane gusts of wind approaching Kinder Downfall. Fear setting in, wondering why on Earth I had felt so confident earlier and had not retired at Snake Top like a lot of more sensible people. I blame Kendal Mint Cake Caffeine Gels, the crystal meth of sports nutrition. Luckily my Christmas insulation protected me from the cold, and driven by the lack of good alternative options, I managed to grind it out and get over the line safe, but with a bit of my soul left, with my trousers, on the Kinder Plateau.

The Trigger is a classic, and notoriously challenging, winter fell race starting in Marsden, West Yorkshire and finishing in Edale, approximately 39km and 1200m of accent depending on your route. The variety of routes taken by all the runners between Torside and Edale can be seen in the picture. As a Fell Running Association member, it cost £25. Great value, especially when you consider all the resources put into making it a safe event. All the profits go to Woodhead Mountain rescue.

The race was won by Philip Montgomery of Dark Peak fell Runners with a time of 05:14:55, approximately 2 hours slower than the course record, a testament to how tough the conditions were. The first female was Rowen Ratcliffe of Saddleworth Runners Club in 14^th overall with a time of 05:32:09. I finished in 84^th with 06:58:54. A notable entrant was Jasmin Paris (35^th with 05:55:19), the first female to complete the ridiculous Berkeley Marathons. The fact that her ilk entered the race is a further testament to its challenging reputation! Of the 181 starters only 104 finished.

A special thanks to Katy Phipps, Matt Barcroft and Nigel Barnes (Strider) for the coffees at Snake Top, they helped a lot of people make the commitment for the final stage of the race! Donations made to Mountain Rescue. A big thanks to Simon Baylis for helping me recce CP 6 and 7, and over Kinder, I would not have been able to carry on and complete the last section without that. And finally, to Paul Robbins for racing it with me, providing great company during training and handling the route for CP’s 3, 4 and 5. If we had not agreed to race, I would not have entered in the first place.

Read on if you would like to hear my in-depth account…

I’d wanted to take on The Trigger ever since I started fell running with Striders, so for at least 8 years, after I read a terrifying race report on their website that fascinated me. It looked like a major challenge, both physically and mentally, requiring a lot of preparation to complete. I have previously come close to entering  a couple of times, researching kit, trying to decide if I should buy some neoprene socks etc, but I’d not felt like I could put in the prep or training and not learnt the route in practice. This year it was different though, as in a brief period of over confidence and high spirts, I suggested to Paul we run it together to mitigate the challenges a bit, and he agreed, having had it in his sights for a few years himself.

In my head I needed to get to around marathon fitness, but with a lot more strength for the hills, in 10 weeks. Which seemed just about doable. Training was going well, until work took me away for three successive weeks in November / December to places I could not run safely. From then onwards my confidence was shaky, unsure I could get my base fitness to the right point, managing niggles and a back problem from the travels. My main training was four long runs with Paul: two Hope Valley Rounds sandwiched between two Exterminators and a lot of ham and turkey sandwiched between bread with all the trimmings (ba-dum ching). A few Dronfield Rounds too and then a recce of the final Kinder section with Simon Baylis. Paul’s recces with Simon covering the earlier section over Higher Shelf Stones that had route options and potential nav requirements.

In the days before the event DRC entrants were dropping like flies from injuries and illnesses, with only 4 Bees making the start line: Me, Paul Robbins, James Hogg and Andrew Ellwood. There was lot of chat about the weather, everyone hoping for conditions like the RSR Winter Addition had had the day before. Sadly, the weather turned and it was time to start joking and making light of the implications of 39km with 30 to 45 mph head winds the whole way. Turns out that was a massive underestimate on the tops.

The logistics of the race is a challenge in itself, then we had to consider the icy road conditions to get out of Dronfield, let alone get to Marsden! All the Dronfield folk and James piled in my 4 x 4 family wagon, setting off at 5.15am, for a mini lads road trip to Dore Station. We met a convoy of 3 busses arranged to pick up Sheffielders and take us all to Marsden for the 8.30 am race start. After the race it was a train back from Edale. The bus trip was a good time to fuel up, with the early start being a bit too early for breakfast at home, a top tip I got from the race report that inspired me. So porridge on the bus for me. Most people on the bus were already dressed for the race, I had stuck with a tracksuit with all my gear packed away. I realised this was the first of several dodgy clothing decisions the moment I stepped off the bus into a howling, rainy wind, ice and snow on the ground, sliding about getting wet socks before even getting my fell shoes on! I am sure I was not the only person queuing up for kit check thinking that it would not be too bad if I had forgotten something and had to see the race out in a pub in Edale! The pic below shows us all sheltering in the cricket club, kitted up ready to start.

My next error was not following almost every other entrant in putting on waterproof trousers for the start. The run to the first checkpoint was supposed to be easy. It wasn’t. Melting snow on top of layers of ice along the paths by the reservoirs providing a dangerously slippy surface that resulted in some falls for others and retirements. We are also lashed by freezing rain, stinging our faces and my legs. 8:30 min/km instead of 6 for the first seven-ish km. Micro spikes were a very good call by some. I was already thinking that completing the race may not be possible with all the extra effort on the “easy bit” and was wondering whether to just kill it off at CP1! Luckily CP1 is on Black Hill and no place to retire. As we climbed the snow got crisp and deep, my legs felt strong and my confidence grew, getting frustrated by people in front walking (far too relaxed in their waterproof trousers). I started to feel some chill in my body and decided I would put my waterproof trousers on before the next exposed section. The descent from Black Hill was a fantastic change, being able to open up our stride and having some shelter as we traversed along the side of small boggy valley. Time for the first fuel, which was caught by a photographer who I screamed “Chia Charge!” at like some flapjack obsessed maniac (pictured). Eating was a pain due to the weather, getting wet mitts on and off etc, so I adopted a strategy of eating more, but less frequently and it seemed to work.

Up to this point me and Paul had just exchanged a few words and knowing looks, the conditions getting in the way of easy communication. The relatively serene conditions between CP1 and 2 gave us time to catch up, fuel well, and for me to put on my waterproof trousers in anticipation of even worse conditions to come. Ascending out of Torside we met Olly Harrison coming the other way, who was in the first stage of his Spine race. It was great to see Olly in such good spirits and it gave us energy too. His route on the Pennine Way must have been a bit more sheltered that what was awaiting us on the tops though, else there is no way he would have been smiling like that! Well maybe he would, because he is Olly after all! Things went south from here, both literally and figuratively.

Paul took us off the Pennine Way on the route he had recced, definitely the shortest route and a good option. It was also, like much of the remainder of the course, very exposed. The snow was now over a foot deep, probably two in some places. We had the benefit of being able to step in the deep holes made by the earlier runners. I was so thankful it was not us having to plough new paths through it! The wind strengthened as we climbed and then got to ridiculous levels. Stopping us in our tracks and blowing us over as it rolled over the edges that we were running close to and amplified as it funnelled up the cloughs. Our jackets, hoods and trousers were beating furiously like a badly set sail in storm, so loud it hurt my ears. “Sence of humour failure yet?” asked Paul, after we passed the worst of it and approached Higher Shelf Stones and CP3. I think he just got a grunt in reply. Paul looked strong out ahead. I managed to keep up and stay at a pace I felt I could maintain for a long time and was thinking about what was left, and if I could continue to the end as we passed CP4 and arrived at CP5.

At Snake Top (CP5) there was a lot of people queuing to dib, as it turned out, to retire. We nearly retired ourselves by mistake!  By this point it looked like more people were dropping out than continuing. There was a lot of cars and support vans out, one of which was Nigel Barnes’ (Strider) who, to our surprise, had Katy Phipps and Matt Barcroft in the van dishing out coffee and tea to the runners. This was a great pick me up on top of my Kendal Mint Cake caffeine gel. I felt good and had a couple more hours running in me. I was not too cold. I knew the challenges the route ahead held, well I thought I did anyway. Hearing the others had retired was equal parts a challenge and a warning. I was ready to continue. Paul, having not run the rest of the route previously was not confident to complete it and retired. So off I set to catch up with a group for safety in numbers.

I nearly turned back descending across the snowy heather to CP6, no longer were there footsteps to follow, and I was getting the early signs of cramp when I over stretched or lost my balance in deep snow or in unseen trip hazards. I could see people ascending to CP7 though and figured I could drop out there, if needed, even if it meant fully retracing my steps after a rest and some food. The full cramp never came and with renewed confidence I pushed on past CP7 knowing the footing would be better soon. Things then started to get a bit hairy. The wind was picking up and it was necessary to scramble up a steep section. I struggled to recognise the landscape for a short while, and it felt unfamiliar from the recce. Soon enough though I was on the edge of the plateau on the path to Kinder Downfall. The wind intensified as it was funnelled up the valley, exceeding the earlier terrible conditions earlier. My clothes were beating terribly in the wind again, then I felt my legs being pulled from under me. Looking down, my trousers were just bellowing out, having split down the seams on both legs. I had to tear them off my ankles and step out of the waist band before continuing. Stressful. Then a gust lifted me slightly off my feet and dumped me sideways into a snowy hillock. Confidence was now low! I asked someone to stow my ruined trousers in my bag, but it was too hard in the conditions. I didn’t want to take my mitts off either, so I am a bit ashamed to say I had to let the trousers blow away and pollute the landscape. Hopefully they made it to Glossop for someone to pick up!

There were two people around me, one who I had been following for some time and one who had been following me. I quickly decided it was best to press on rather than go back and retire, being at pretty much the highest point and “just” the Kinder Plateau to deal with. It was easy to follow the well-trodden route across Kinder along the river and through Kinder Gates. The compacted snow was a much better than the usual mud and bogs. I had to speed up and ditch the two people with me as I was very conscious of being in shorts and a vicious wind chill. Stress levels were high as there were no good options if something went wrong.  I skipped fuelling because of the chill inducing ball-ache associated with it, I just needed to get back as quickly as possible without hurting myself. A female runner came past me at a good speed and I decided to keep up with her for a while, this took me to the final style with just the final decent off Grindslow Knoll to go. She disappeared off a way I did not recognise and I missed the best route Simon showed me, taking the more well trodden rocky path down. This was treacherous with thawing snow running over large patches of ice. I went over twice, but didn’t care as I knew it would all be over soon.

I made it! Paul and Andrew finding me getting changed, having generously waited for me to finish, the shakes setting in, now colder than I had felt on the hills. More happy to be in one piece than to have completed the challenge. I can’t have been too bad though as I was not desperate enough to eat the most appalling post-race food I have ever experienced! A pasta “soup” dryer than the Sahara desert with broad beans hard enough to play conkers with. Maybe it had been cooked for the near seven hours it took me to complete the race and I should blame myself for not being quicker! Luckily, there was some bread, butter and marmite available and a cup of tea. Seriously though, despite the “soup” I am incredibly grateful to the volunteers that made the race possible and the runner comfortable afterwards.

Thanks a lot for reading this far, it is much longer than I thought it would be when starting! I do feel writing this has had some therapeutic benefits. I certainly feel a lot more proud of myself and less traumatised from the experience, maybe the winds have changed and blown back some of my soul from Kinder!