Cheese rolling 2009
Yesterday I was being driven along a road, out past Gloucester Business Park. The road itself I’ve been down many times, but that day when I looked to the right I realised for the first time where we were heading.There’s a strip down the side of a hill, that is surrounded by trees but is itself grassy and free from trees. It was only yesterday, when I saw the crowds of spectators that I realised that it was coopers hill, the location for the world famous Gloucester cheese rolling.
We parked up just by the roundabout and started walking the rest of the way, to avoid the traffic. The walk itself was tiring and crossed fields and entered woods. It was a steep route and it had zapped most of my energy by the time a reached the lane with a farmhouse by it.
I was told to stand back, because an ambulance was manoeuvring. A TV crew were filming another ambulance, assumedly in preparation to report on immanent serious injuries. But this was 10:30 an hour and a half before the races started.
Before me towered a near vertical wall of grass, around which spectators were hanging onto the hills side in huge numbers. It’s impossible to describe the size and steepness of the hill, in any way that realistically depicts this to someone who has not seen it. Needless to say it is very steep, and is uneven in places, with some bits being steeper than others. But to fully understand you need to see it in person.
We walked across the bottom of the hill, and into the crowd at the other side. "out of the path" one security guard was shouting at the crowd, who had engulfed what I assumed would've been a path had I been able to see it. Jumping over the stile, we were out of the crowd and into the surrounding wood.
Getting up the hill was the first thing we wanted to do, and if possible look down upon the course from above. There was a path, off to the distance that may have headed up the hill, but we weren’t sure so we headed straight up the hill, by climbing through the wood.
Climbing through the woods proved difficult, as it was as steep as the cheese rolling course itself. We pulled ourselves up on the branches and roots on the surrounding trees. Getting down close to the ground and using our hands to stop ourselves from falling back down. I momentarily let go of my water, and it was gone for good, bouncing down the wooded hillside beneath us (I wasn't going back to get it).
Near the top we spied a move leisurely path, and moved onto that following it the rest of the way.
At the top it was frantically busy, with people everywhere. There was not hope of looking down the course, as there was already a huge queue of 'hopefuls', all waiting to risk life and limb (literally) for 7lbs of Double Gloucester Cheese.
From here you could see that the overhanging trees were filled with people, all after a clear view of the event (which was still over an hour always). Some of them were precariously perched on high up branches and swigging from Flagons of Scrumpy.
At one corner of the top we managed to gain a clear vantage point of the track lying below us. We both pretty much immediately decided the challenge was beyond us.
Beth phoned some friends to inform them of the severity of the drop, and that we probably wouldn't be going through with it. They offered some words of encouragement (which considering they had never seen the hill, was accepted with a pinch of sceptism by myself).
By this point the queue had grown further, and Beth suggested we join it whilst we thought about whether to race or not. I thought this was a bad idea, but went along with it anyway.
The queue itself was a fair distance in length, and we stood at the back of it with all the other 'lemmings'. In front of us participants drank neat brandy straight from the bottle.
The one downside the queuing for the cheese rolling, is that you are separated from the event itself. The queue occurs over the brow of the hill. You cannot see the course, you can't watch the races and you have no idea what is going on. You cannot hear the tannoy messages, as the sound doesn't travel over the hill. Everyone assures you that no registration is necessary, and that you just need to stay in the queue till you get to the front.
The queue continued to grown behind us, and suddenly we were in the middle of the queue, not by moving forward but because in the space of 15 mins it doubled in length, till it appeared to be off into the woods. A tractor appeared at the top, with two 'strong boxes' it its' front bucket. We correctly surmised that this was the 'prizes', a whole wheel of double Gloucester goes to the first person down the hill.
It was 11:55, five minutes before the first race. And the queue moves ever so slightly forward. The timetable for the day is that there will be a downhill race every 20 mins, with an uphill race in-between.
We hear cheering, which we assume is the first race, but we have no other idea what is going on. We stand for ages and slowly move forwards in the queue.
Some chavs off to one side, who appear to have camped on the hill, start shouting at the queue. A member of the gang of chavs rugby tackles someone further in front in the queue. The person is ok, but I think everyone is weary of what they might do next. Other than a couple of medics, there are no security personnel or police near the queue.
The guys in front of us have ran out of brandy, and send someone off into the woods, to get some drinks they appear to have hid earlier.
Were told the someone has fallen out of a tree, and there will be a delay while the rescue team deal with them. But we only hear this via chinese whispers from the crowd below.
There is a carnival atmosphere in the queue. Everyone is talking to everyone else and being very friendly. There are people from all around the world, Australia, America and Germany. And people from all around the UK. They are all pepping each other up for the time when they get to 'go over the top'. I still think it’s a bad idea and tell Beth so (although she says I should do it).
The Chav rugby tackles another bloke, this time seriously hurting him. First we realise is someone shouting for a medic, while a chav runs off and 'high fives' his mates. There are always some people who spoil things for everyone. Guy needs to be stretchered down the hill by the rescue team. The chavs disappear, I can only assume to avoid any police who may appear (although I don't see any).
Several hours have passed, and by the original programme all the races should have been run. We hear that only one downhill has been run, with all the uphill races having been done instead. I later find out this is because of a shortage of ambulances. The queue starts to drop off in size, as people give up any hope of running.
Guys in front of me still drinking, and now also smoking a spliff.
Everyone seems up for it, and over confident. I find out some of the guy's parked at the top and haven't even seen down the hill yet. They say ‘they've come so far, that there is no way they are not running down that hill’.
I speak to a guy from Bromsgrove who came with his wife and child who are watching below. He tries to ring them, but with no success. We are now reaching 3pm.
The queue has continued to shrink in size over the afternoon.
The guy Bromsgrove goes to check his wife is ok. We agreed to save him his place in the queue, but he didn't come back.
We hear some people are just jumping over the fences.
Suddenly it's all go. They start doing downhill races in quick succession. They've run out of cheese, but are still running additional races, due to the size of the queue.
I'm starting to get uncomfortably close to the front of the queue. "Any women for a race" shouts a steward, and Beth disappears forwards. I'm now alone in the queue, although amongst friendly people. I realise I need to watch Beths race, so I can know if she's ok. I get someone to save my place for me.
By this time the crowds by the sides of the race are thinning out, and get a great view of the course. I immediately remind myself that even after hours of testosterone filled queue chat, I DO NOT want to do this.
I hear there's a delay, because some one hurt themselves, as I am now in a position to hear the tannoy. I ring Beth to tell her of the delay (and that I don't want to do this).
I police helicopter flies above, I mentally note that it’s the first time I’ve seen police all day.
I also hear a steward informing someone that a friend of theirs are got a 'serious spinal injury' and they head off toward the ambulance. I ring Beth to inform her of this, in case it would change her mind (it didn't). There waiting for more women before they run a women’s race, so men’s races resume.
I was spilt between going back in the queue, and waiting to watch the next women’s race. I decide to watch some races (as they're the first I’ve seen all day). I'm right next to the starting line, and can see the master of ceremonies, wearing his traditional dress. He beats his drum, and seems to be watching for signals from the people at the bottom. He counts down, and they're off. It all happens very quickly. Some people run the whole way, others go down on their backsides and some just bounce round and round at an ever increasing speed. One guy gets streachred off at the end.
Another race gets set up, and the MC is told something from the bottom of the hill. He announces the next race is the ‘last race’ and I can see it is going to be a men’s race. I feel gutted for Beth, but also relieved that I won't have to do it myself. The guys on the starting line were four people in front of me. It was close, but even if I was still in the queue I won't have made it, even after 4 hours of queuing.
The MC say 'this is the last race', 'this is going to be a bit of a free for all’, ‘so please go easy’. I see that lots of people are preparing to jump the fence and join in. The countdown begins, it ends and the races are off. 5 guys next to me jump over the fence, tearing it in the process. I'm standing at the top, looking down with guys on each side of me running onto the track.
a steward says in my direction, 'if you're going to do it take it easy'. I look down, I walk to the edge, I consider it, almost go and then hesitate. All this happens in a spilt second and by the time I finish hesitating, I realise it's too late to go.
I queued for hours and in the end I had my chance to run, but I didn't take it.
Maybe I’ll do it next year, but with the possibility of serious spinal injury in the back of my mind, I just don't know. I think I ever was going to do it, it was in that split second which I let slip me by.
I walked to the bottom and met Beth, who had also walked down. We both agreed it was a great day, but both shared a mixed feeling of relief and disappointment for not having run.
For me what I remember most is the friendly atmosphere of the queue, and also the crowd in general. Everyone was in it together (except the chavs). If you’re in Gloucestershire you should go and see it.
Even if you just want to spectate, I’d recommend queuing at the top for a while. It’s an amazing group dynamic. Everyone is supporting each other and trying not to be afraid. You might say, 'how can you jump down that hill' but I think it's a collective group madness that makes it so easy. That coupled with the fact you are separated from the reality of the event.
At the end of the day, it's not about winning the cheese (or the £10 + £5 runner up prizes). Its about adrenaline, it’s about tradition and it's about being part of a unique event and experiencing that with everyone else that's there.
posted by Alastair Gregg @ 5:44 AM
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