Hats off to Team Pocket to Socket. They went out yesterday and ran their hearts out, racking up 130 miles in the process. A last hurrah. Team Minster Inn had the scent of the Scarborough sea air in their nostrils though, a heady mix of rolling waves, candy floss, fish & chips and stale ale. It did the trick though as they raced towards the finish line, covering 151 miles in the process.
They've set up camp just 7.22 miles north of Scarborough overnight. In scenes reminiscent of the Viking marauders centuries ago, Mini Inn have been busy feasting on the local cattle whilst they lay bare their plans for their final assault on the Spa. Magic Monday is upon us.
Plenty of us will be familiar with the patches of grass between Staintondale and Scarborough. The final stretch of the Hardmoors 62 in the pitch black between Scarbro and Filey a couple of years ago played havoc with my fondness for heights. A cliff top path that at points is right on the edge can be nerve jangling during the day, let alone at midnight when all you can hear is the waves below and your vision is restricted to whatever your head torch picks up. Even then, it is still a beautiful place to be.