The (nearly) barefoot Bob

Yet again it was the day of my Bob, would it be third time lucky? My first attempt was ended by Thor  hammering the Helvellyn ridge. Maybe he was angry that I hadn't checked the weather warnings. On  the second attempt my back seized up a few hours before the start when bending over to pick a sock.  So I was keen to get round third time lucky. 

For footwear I chose Vivobarefoot trail shoes. I find them freeing to run in as they allow my feet to  feel the ground and the toes to spread naturally. They force going very slowly on the road and  drastically increase the risk of getting 'zimmered' by Tony Bolton on gravelly descents. But they also  provide a useful excuse in those situations. In 1932 Bob Graham completed his round in tennis  plimsoles. He surely would have seen my shoes as highly engineered. 

7pm at the Moot Hall. We were off and veered down Sweet Temptations alley. James Trott led the  way for leg 1, with glimpses of the sunset over Scotland between showers. The tops were windyyy.  Good job James was there as he set the pace and found the best line up Blencathra in the misty  mizzle. Soaked, we crossed the A66 to find Ben Barker had set up an undercover guest house in the  cricket club porch. Mingma and Lamby offered moral support, and I also blagged running off with  Mingma's thicker jacket. 

Glove shuffle 1. Nearly at the Clough Head summit, I realised that I'd left my gloves in Threlkeld.  Generously, Alex lent me his. The night shift - Jonny Lamb, Alex and I - trundled along the wet and  windy Helvellyn ridge with laughs along the way. Jonny predicted that we'd dry off by Seat Sandal,  and he was right. The stars came out and we were dry when we saw Heidi's car headlights below at  Dunmail Raise. We seemed to run into a timeloop/wormhole descending Seat Sandal in which the  car kept returning to its original distance. 

Glove shuffle 2. Half way up Steel Fell with Ben Rowley I realised that I'd left Alex's gloves behind at  Dunmail. I followed Ben through some downpours, until we were rewarded by finding Harison Stickle  silhouetted against a blue dawn sky. The crux of the whole challenge was probably the boulder  hopping along the Scaffell ridge with fierce gusts. Slow progress but we had fun. We descended the  grassy way into Wasdale and my feet were aching. Soon though I was re-fuelled with the help of Ryan  Bull and Charlie the pug. 

Glove shuffle 3. I borrowed Ryan's gloves and headed for Yewbarrow with Simon West. We got a  mega push up by the southerly wind and it was a beaut day to be up on Steeple and Pillar. The clag  came in on Kirk Fell, and Simon set us right on the descent with his map and compass. Clambering off  Great Gable, my feet were not happy with the ongoing situation. We trucked on and I enjoyed the  much more spongy descent off Grey Knotts. It then occurred to me that it was odds-on I'd make it  round! 

A Honister refuel with Heidi, then the final leg with Will Veitch with blue sky. Will insisted on carrying  anything that I wasn't either wearing, or consuming, and we got a welcome push from the wind up  Dale Head and soon reached Robinson. There stood Jacob and Hector to join for the final descent.  When we hit the scree it was a welcome relief to slide instead of putting the brakes on. Dava jumped  out from behind a hedge to open the ten gates from Little Town to Skelgill Farm (a nice off road  route). At Lingholm Jonny Milton and Alex joined and we trundled together back to the Moot Hall. It  was 5:30pm so right on my 22.5hr schedule! The welcome home cheer was much appreciated, along  with Sheila's cake and the pint from The Round.

Three weeks later the gloves had finally been unshuffled and returned to their correct owners. But I  was still feeling some post-bob tendonitis (admittedly the barefoot style shoes may have contributed  towards this). I lay down for a sunbathe on a mossy ledge in Dodd Wood and dozed off with my t shirt covering my face. When I woke up I kept my eyes covered and enjoyed the warm sun. Then I sat  up. A rustle just above me. A second later a buzzard fell flat on its front onto the ground by my feet.  It got up, looked at me in an alarmed way, then flew away. Did it think that I was carrion, and when I  moved got a jump and fell off its perch?