Behind the scenes: the Lakeland 200 Part 2

For Catherine and I (Kitty, Co-founder of the Steezy Collective) 2022 has inadvertently become the year of the Lakeland 200. Sure, there have been many other adventures, but the Lakeland 200 kept gnawing at the back of our heads ever since Part 1 of the project came together.
Catherine could not join in part 1 due to COVID-19, she knew the route needed more exploring and came up with a new concept, sending a group of absolute hitters on the gruelling route to get more names on the sub-40-hour completion leaderboard. But how can we shout even louder about this achievement? Well, a film, of course!

Part 2 of the project came to fruition. We needed more GoPros, more bodies on the ground and a solid plan. The weekend entailed a crew flying around the Lakes following riders on their journey to break records and add more names to the ITT list. Of course, with this came many behind-the-scenes stories we had to share. Often these films are presented to us as if some ethereal figure was able to capture the moments. This makes adventure filmmaking a touch inaccessible as if without some secret techniques the everyday rider is unable to capture these moments. I hope by providing a little bit of insight into how we did it, that we could inspire you to capture these moments too. 

As the unexpected rain pattered down on the roof of the pub in Staveley, we met to make a plan. Jenni and Alice Lemkes had already headed out that morning at 5am, Catherine waving them off. The downside of picking a weekend in advance is being unable to choose the weather. We kept our phones on and talked logistics whilst waiting for the remaining Saturday morning riders to reach the pub. We plotted vantage points on the map for the crew - Catherine was the Cat and Al + I the Cow, why that is, is a story for another day.

We picked these spots to catch riders as they pulled through, getting footage and photos in exciting or significant locations. On the map, it all looked simple, head here, take a video and shoot over to the next spot. However, this didn’t allow for 2am appearances, torrential rain and split tyres. The plan evolved naturally, but these locations were where we intended to capture footage.

The Reality

After riding in the rain for hours, Jenni and Alice made the sensible decision to call it a day on the Friday night. We collected the GoPros and left them to sleep in their respective vehicles, Jenni’s van and Alice’s Kia! We set our alarms for 4 am to catch the Saturday crew leaving Staveley. 

4 am came way too quickly, off they went after some faff. We regrouped in Ambleside for brekkie, Alice and Jenni joined whilst the film team talked about a new plan. More heads are always better than one, especially when sleep-deprived and running on adrenaline. So we decided to set off as a team, Catherine on the drone and Al and I capturing the riders coming through on a DSLR camera. Jenni providing much-needed support in her van. 

We headed to each planned location, only just catching Lorah in Ambleside with Alex them Naomi rolling through slightly after. Four out of five through, Jade had set off at 4 am, under the cover of darkness, making it through Ambleside before we’d left Staveley. So where was Cat? The start of the Lakeland 200 and the end come together in a very tight trail that, at 5am, can be indistinguishable. Cat had headed out on the counter-clockwise route, making too much progress to turn back. This could present a logistical problem but the intrigue overtook us, Cat could’ve cracked the code and tackled a more enjoyable route or, she could’ve shown us why most people head out clockwise. Only time would tell! This would mean there would be only one or two opportunities to capture Cat as she headed to the Northernmost section.

The Pub

Fast-forward and we’re sat on the fellside at Black Sail. Big grey clouds approached, the rain started trickling and we start worrying. The mobile blackspot that happens near Wasdale meant we couldn’t track the riders, we couldn’t communicate with each other and we had no way of telling when someone would pop up. We started using dubious maths to decide where everyone should be, but nothing worked. The heavens opened. We were beaten by the rain. The drone couldn’t fly and we couldn’t capture any pictures. Off we went to the pub at the bottom of the hill, defeated, to get dry and catch some wifi. After three hours in the rain, we had nothing. 

As we round the corner, something is leaning against the pub wall. A Genesis Fugio with a flash of purple pedals must be a mirage. There was Jade, purposefully moving around the pub, collecting water, stocking up on food and checking in using the free wifi. We couldn’t believe our luck when five minutes later another light shone through the window, and in came Lorah. They both sat having a snack and catching up with all the tales from the trail. A short while later, another light flashes as Naomi blasts through, waterproofed from head to toe, avoiding the temptation of a warm and cosy pub to make it to Keswick before the shops closed.

As much as we wanted to capture the domineering Lakeland stream crossings, there was something far more authentic about seeing the riders restocking in the pub. Everyone sees the smashing of gears up a fell, but there’s so much more to glean from these small moments of respite: The difference in tactics, Jade remains somewhat aware of what’s to come whilst Lorah relaxed and took a short time to recharge, warm up and prepare for the climb. Moving with structure and purpose Jade didn’t waste a moment, she went to repack her bike whilst waiting for her food and dried off as much as she could. In complete opposition to both Lorah and Jade, Naomi knew the lure of a bowl of hot food and a gentle drink could crash her momentum. I think these moments are only found in bikepacking, the ones where knowing yourself intricately is the only way to get to your destination. Anyone can churn out their max wattage up a climb, but knowing that you have to pull yourself from a warm and inviting space into the dark cold and still be able to keep going is true bikepacking. 

The Night

I’ve never played Pokemon Go but this was starting to feel similar. Waiting patiently in far-flung locations for riders who you can only see based on when their phones last had service. At first, we were sure they’d have all made it through the off-road section around the north side of Derwentwater. Lights were flying around the tracks and we jumped out of the car, camera in hand in the darkness. Suddenly, the lights were bobbing up and down, we had stumbled upon a 24-hour fell run and I had just terrified a small child waiting for his parents to run past. To avoid further embarrassment, we headed on the road to the slate mine at Honister.

At the top of Honister Pass at 1 am we waited. Sleeping in cars in laybys isn’t glamorous, but we found it was the only way to be able to catch the riders as they snuck by during the night. You’d be surprised how bright a mountain bike light is in pitch black and often it makes quite a gentle alarm clock. The first light we saw came from the right, up from Gatesgarth, Lorah. She was in good spirits, ahead of Jade despite leaving the pub after. Within 10 minutes, there was Jade and then Cat coming from the East. With Alex sheltering in the hostel at the bottom of Black Sail we had finally found everyone. We’d missed Naomi but when Cat came through she regaled us with the moment she first saw her clockwise compadres, Naomi was up front and pressing on. Finally, 2 am and it was time to sleep. Back to the layby at Staveley, we went.

Even though these attempts are self-supported and we were there to simply document, I couldn’t help feeling guilty for heading to sleep. Knowing that these tenacious women were out in the dark and cold, their minds playing tricks on them, made me feel like I was cheating. I drifted off with guilty feelings that were ultimately trumped by the deep urge to recharge ready for the finish.

The Finish

Catherine headed out early Sunday morning up High Street to catch the riders on the punishing hike-a-bike section that was High Street. A stunning morning had presented itself and Jade powered up the hill, Pepsi in hand, with the sun streaming down on her; the finish was so close. Readying for the big finishing shots, we regrouped at Staveley, tucking into pastries and coffee after a sleepless night. Alex had tackled her way to Keswick but, with work looming and a tight schedule, she pinned the Lakeland 200 for another day. After all, the trail goes nowhere and what you learn from an attempt always makes the return stronger. 

Finally, the attempt felt signed, sealed and delivered. Jade, Naomi and Lorah were all at the top of High Street and Cat was pushing into Ambleside. After starting the weekend with hesitation, having four finishers of the route was almost unbelievable. The Lakeland 200 was created as a true test, a route for those to see what the hardest parts of the Highland Trail 550 could be in a condensed format. Here were seven remarkable women who managed to tame the beast and four that slayed it. 

We waited, teary-eyed, ready for them to roll in. The moment I’ll leave you with is Lorah, our first woman in, in just over 30 hours, pulling into Staveley. Her two children were ready and waiting, unaware of the mammoth undertaking each plundering a single Haribo from Lorah’s emergency supply. Somehow, paradoxically, this moment summed up the Lakeland 200 project for us. Everyone who takes on these trails has responsibilities and commitments that take up most of their time. We see these brave adventurers, but in reality, they all had a job to head back to, families to look after and the real world to grapple with. This makes spending 30+ hours pushing yourself to the limit both more impressive and more relatable. That is what made this project unique, not the riding, not the breathtaking views. 

Equipment

For those intrigued about how we captured the footage, here’s a quick snapshot of how.

Filming seven rad women as they scatter across the Lakes without interfering is challenging. We were adamant that we couldn’t let anyone know where we’d be: this might provide a mental safety net that could change riding patterns. We also wanted to catch the true solitude, hence our choice of GoPros. We bought a few second-hand sessions, the GoPros without screens, and attached them to everyone’s bars, allowing them to press a button when they wanted to capture the moment. We also compiled a selection of GoPros from family and friends to capture the magic using some albeit ancient machines. 

POV footage allowed the story to emerge naturally, building a narrative from the moments the riders felt were important. But this didn’t capture the majesty and sometimes domineering Lake District views. Catherine had a surprise, a drone for those big, dramatic shots. Then we got some contextual footage, on handheld cameras, of the riders coming through our secret spots. 

Words: Kitty Dennis
Photos: Catherine Dunn