Race Report: UTMB: CCC 2017

UTMB. Probably the one event that even non-trail runners stand a chance of having heard of. However recently it had been well-known for many of the wrong reason including a controversial open letter from the organisers of Hardrock 100 lamenting the fact that they were asked to pay for inclusion in UTMB’s qualification process.

Cue lots of negative discussions on social media. UTMB/ITRA is a racket. It’s not real ultra-running and is more like a giant traffic-jam/human centipede. Ignore the circus and concentrate on more authentic events. I’m not getting into that though, you can read the other side of the story in ITRA’s response to the accusations.

It’s not that simple though. Regardless of which side of the argument you sit, if you’ve ever been in Chamonix at the end of August you will be left in no doubt that the atmosphere is second-to none. I had been there two years ago and watched a friend complete the UTMB event and was swept up in the carnival atmosphere that took hold of the town. I decided there and then that I wanted in on that action and that being stabbed by the odd trekking pole might be a small price to pay.

The UTMB-proper (171km with 10,000m of elevation) is currently beyond my reach, not least because I haven’t run enough qualifying races but I’ve also never run further than 86km. I did however find that getting enough points to enter the CCC was definitely much more attainable so last December I entered the race lottery and to my surprise, managed to snag a place.

Although the CCC (Courmayeur, Champex-Lac, Chamonix) is the ‘little sister’ event of UTMB, it is fair to say that it’s a serious ultra marathon in its own right. For the most part it covers the last two thirds of the UTMB with a few deviations and at over 100km and 6,000m of elevation it’s certainly not an easy cop out.

So this was my ‘A’ race for 2017, and after a recent DNF in the brutally steep 80km du Mont Blanc earlier in the year I was determined to be well organised, fully on form and run a smart race this time.

The weather would definitely help this time – after two straight years of blazing blue skies and high temperatures, I arrived to pick up my race bib in a grey and wet Chamonix being drenched by a light but consistent rain. The amazing mountain backdrop was hidden behind battleship-grey clouds.

The start line in Courmayeur

On the Friday morning I took the organised bus from outside my rented apartment in Argentiere, through the Mont-Blanc tunnel and into Courmayeur on the other side and was greeted by cool temperatures, sunny skies and thankfully no rain – perfect ultra-running weather.

However we knew it wouldn’t last as the forecast for the later stages of the race was for very cold temperatures up high and more rain, possibly snow. A last minute text from the organisers arrived as I was waiting at the start line, explaining that the final section between Col des Montets and La Flégère had been rerouted to avoid Tête aux Ventes – I was unsure whether this was a good or a bad thing.

The course profile of the CCC

2,150 lined up on the start line and I had previously heard lots of horror stories about huge queues as the race hits the first narrow trails so I was keen to get reasonable to the front. The race was divided into three pens which would leave at 9am, 9:15 and 9:30 respectively and I was in the second pen.

The excitement and anticipation was building – large crowds had turned out and were very enthusiastic. Most ultras I run start at 4am so local support is usually less lively. Media helicopters buzzing overhead and an energetic PA announcer building up the enthusiasm of the crowd in three languages all contributed to a feeling of being part of something big – and then the starting gun went off, Vangelis’ Conquest of Paradise playing as we ran through the town of Courmayeur to cheering crowds and ringing cowbells.

Leaving Courmayeur and heading to the first forest trails

A route through the town meant that we got to soak up the atmosphere for a couple of KMs, and also had the benefit of thinning out the crowds before we hit the narrower trails.

The traffic jams never really materialised – the first climb was almost a vertical mile up to the Tête de la Tronche in the first 10km or so, ensuring most mid-pack runners would take it easy so we soon set into a steady pace. Maybe I was feeling fresh and enthusiastic but the first climb really felt good, and didn’t seem anywhere near as steep as it looks on paper.

Pretty soon we were over the top and running down into the first aid station at Refuge Bertone. There was no need to hang around so I quickly filled up with water, grabbed some chocolate and dried apricots and headed out onto the lovely runnable section of 7km to the next aid station.

Leaving Refuge Bertone

This next section was wonderful – rolling hills of single track with sweeping views of the Grandes Jorasses and Mont Blanc. The weather continued to be cooperative and stayed cool and sunny – pretty soon I arrived at the next aid station at Refuge Bonatti, 22km into the race.

Great running between the Bertone and Bonatti refuges


Still enjoying great weather on the Italian side of Mont Blanc

Fantastic trails for running





I knew that the climb to Grand Col Ferret was going to be tough, so I sat down and had a bit of a rest, powered by some of the delicious pasta soup handed out at all the large aid stations. It was only when I looked at the map that I realised there was still another 5km of running to Arnouvaz before the climb started.

Climbing towards the Grand Col Ferret – the wind increased and the temperature dropped meaning the layers started to go on.

As the race approached the Col Ferret it was obvious that the great weather wouldn’t last – forbidding clouds in the distance towards Switzerland suggested I’d soon be adding layers and waterproofs.

Zero visibility and freezing wind at the Grand Col Ferret

The climb itself only took just over an hour but the difference between the top and bottom was pretty stark. I’d added a waterproof layer to keep out the wind, and gloves but arrived at the summit with my hands so frozen I couldn’t collapse my trekking poles to stow away for the descent – thankfully one of the medics at the top was happy to help.

What followed was 1,500m of continuous descending into the Swiss side of the race, with a brief stop at La Fouly for more water and food. The amount of supporters at La Fouly was impressive, and it gave a great boost – I remember leaving the food tent and running through a tunnel of kids high-fiving on the way out.

I was planning to meet Amy at Champex-Lac, the first aid station that allowed help from crews and about the only one where I would visit at a sensible time (the others were Trient and Vallorcine). She was tracking me on the official app and I seemed to be on track for getting there a little before 8pm, which meant I was pretty close to the 22 hour pace I was aiming for. However leaving La Fouly and heading down into the valley we were soon on asphalt roads, which I thought would just link some trails, but we ended up running around 10km like that. It meant that, helped by some friendly encouragement from a fellow Brit I was running with, we were soon running 5.30min/km pace which meant getting to Champex-Lac early.

It turned out that the route had been diverted because of landslides caused by the recent bad weather. It was a welcome repreive from the technical trails but meant that I had to phone Amy to get her to start the one-hour drive to Champex early.

On the approach to Champex-Lac the rain really started to come down strong and the deeply rutted, muddy forest trails were quite depressing to negotiate in the falling darkness, perhaps because I knew that I was so close to a change of dry clothes and some moral support.

The curse of being a mid-pack ultra runner meant that the aid station tent was absolutely packed with runners and their associated crews. This made it difficult to lay out kit on the long bench tables but Amy managed make sure I went through all the right checks, helped me get into dry and warm clothes and also brought me a steaming hot flask of freshly made pasta and potato soup.

Freshly fortified with pasta and potato soup, in dry clothes and waterproofs ready to tackle the night section after Champex-Lac at 56km

Leaving the aid station I was shocked how cold my muscles had got, and running out of Champex-Lac was more of a hobble, despite the best efforts of the supporters who were yelling encouragement. It was almost a relief when the pavement gave way to steep forest traila and I was able to focus on climbing rather than running at any particular pace.

The latter half of the race comprised of three big climbs – none of them quite as large as the first two, but significant, in the dark and in the pouring rain on tired legs. I mentally broke it down to just powering on through to the next big aid station and actually found the climbing to be straightforward – my legs were still feeling good.

Taking refuge at La Giète

On the long climb up to La Giète it became evident that this was going to be a long night. The heavy rain was turning the already saturated ground, trodden by the shoes of hundreds of other runners in the last few hours into a boggy quagmire. In parts the trails were rocky, and we could use these for some traction, but the clay-like, light-brown mud was oozing down the mountain between the rocks like gravy. We finally made it to La Giète, where a small barn on top of the mountain, lit up and playing techno music offered some shelter and hot soup.

It was a case of rinse and repeat for the next few hours as we descended to Trient, restocked, climbed more monstrous, muddy mountains and slipped and slided our way back down into Vallorcine.

The descents were getting treacherous and despite using trekking poles and took at least a couple of falls but thankfully they didn’t cause any problems.

Refuelled at La Giète and ready to go back outside to face the elements

By Trient, certain body parts had begun to chafe and I ammused the staff at the medic tent by asking if they had any cream, although I couldn’t remember the name in French so had describe it. I’m sure not for the first time that evening, the medic handed me a tube of anti-frottissement cream and pointed towards the bathroom; I soon anti-frottisée’d parts that will remain nameless and was able to resume the glamour of an ultra marathon at one in the morning.

At Vallorcine, the last major aid station it felt like I was almost home but there were still 19 more kilometeres to run, and the temporary notices on the walls made it clear that the new route, bypassing the Tête aux Vents was not necessarily going to make things easier. Leaving the aid station the next few KMs seemed much gentler than the profile on the course map suggested and I made pretty good pace, setting into a rhythm on good, relatively dry roads.

Refuelling with hot soup at one of the aid stations

After a while though the paths got ridiculously technical, with huge knotted tree roots and large rocks strewn across the path which made mincemeat of our tired legs and frazzled, sleep-deprived brains. The real sting in the tail came two-hours on from Vallorcine, with a 250m descent on the same horrible paths, only to be faced with over an hour of yet more climbing up to the ski station of La Flégère. The elevation amount wasn’t particularly huge, but the trail just seemed to go on forever and was a real destroyer of morale.

While sitting in the aid station at the top of the climb I chatted to a couple of other runners who were all cursing the organisers and expressing disbelief in the last section. However the good news was just 8 more KMs and aroun 1000m of descent to the finish.

The descent had its technical sections but generally got better the further I descended and this last section only took around an hour. It had the added bonus that it was starting to get light, and I got to view Chamonix down in the valley below, framed with the always-amazing sight of the Mont Blanc massif, freshly dusted with snow from the previous night poking out from amongst the clouds.

Chamonix and Mont-Blanc on the final descent down from La Flégère

I was dreading a long run-in through Chamonix but the trail joined the town just near a hotel I’d stayed in before so I knew it wasn’t long to the finish line. What’s more, my legs actually felt (relatively) great despite almost 22 hours of running. In fact I was minutes away from beating my (admittedly arbitrary target) so I picked up the pace, passing a few people hobbling into town).

On the way in I was surprised to see Amy a few hundred metres from the finish, and she actually had to yell at me to slow down while she ran round to the finish line to take a picture – I still managed to finish in a time 21:58:32, 854th place overall and 267th in the veteran male category V1H.

A bit dazed and confused at the end


I’m really happy with my result – since the first goal was to run a good race and finish under the cutoff time of 26:30. Looking at my placing throughout the race, I started off quickly (due to not wanting to be caught in traffic jams), stayed ranked around the mid 900s in the middle of the race and managed to claw back another 100 or so places. I didn’t set the world on fire but it was my first 100km distance, and considering how poor the terrain was in the latter half of the race I can’t complain. On the other hand, the cool conditions probably helped since I have a tendency to suffer from the heat in ultras.

A moment of reflected glory on the podium.

The race organisation was superb, with well stocked aid stations at regular intervals but what really stood out for me was the support of the crowds. In all three countries there were so many enthusiastic supporters in the towns and villages, at all hours of the day and night, and even up on the sides of remote trails in atrocious conditions.

I genuinely enjoyed the event and this has only made me think that the the full UTMB should be on my tick list one day.


Race Report: Montée d’Oule/La Bombarde

My local running club, Club athlétique Veynois put on a double-header race every April. La Bombarde is the 10km road race that I’ve run several times, but they also host an (almost) Vertical KM race called Montée d’Oule, that climbs Mont d’Oule on the outskirts of Veynes in the Hautes-Alpes.

Montée d’Oule

Mont d’Oule rises 850m above the town of Veynes in the southern French Alps and has a panoramic view from the top. Since the path to the top is barely 3km long, the average gradient is almost 30% so its a very steep slog.

The start line with competitors leaving in 30 second increments

The start line with competitors leaving in 30 second increments

The race began at 5pm and took the form of a time trial, or contre-la-montre, with competitors setting off in 30 second increments.

I decided to travel light and ditched my pack and water bottle and just attempted this with trekking poles. Almost immediately my throat was like sandpaper as I gasped for air. The afternoon was hot and sunny and the air was dry.

I managed to overtake about three people in front of me, and was only overtaken by one other person (who in my defence was half my age) who came trotting past as if this was a warm up for Parkrun.

The gradient doesn't look steep here but the effort and oxygen-debt is plain to see.

The gradient doesn’t look steep here but the effort and oxygen-debt is plain to see.

A sub-40 minute time was my goal, based on nothing more scientific than a quick look at last year’s results. I succeeded, getting to the top in 39’02”, 21st overall and 5th in my category.

A competitor making it to the summit finish - his face says it all really

A competitor making it to the summit finish – his face says it all really

It was definitely worth it for the view. The panorama showed the Vercors, the nearby Dévoluy range, the snow-capped Ecrins as well as the foothills of Provence.

The view from the top of Mont d'Oule

The view from the top of Mont d’Oule

After admiring the view, a short trail led down to drinks and food.

Much needed food and drink at the top of the mountain.

Much needed food and drink at the top of the mountain.

Race results for Montée d’Oule 2017

La Bombarde

Nearly all my running is on trails these days but I’ve run La Bombarde two out of the last three years as I’m curious to see what my 10k PB is. It’s being getting steadily quicker over the years but that was when I didn’t prepare for it by running the Montée d’Oule the night before.

I guess it was therefore inevitable that I would break that trend and my time of 39’26” was my slowest ever but I was still happy with it. It wasn’t helped by the fact that I though the race started at 11, got up at 9.15, checked and realised it was a 10, dashed into the car and made it to the start line with 2 minutes to go. No warmup, no breakfast. Not recommended.

The finish line of La Bombarde

The finish line of La Bombarde

The combined time for both races was enough to get me onto the age-category podium for runners of both races. I’m not sure it was a large pool of potential runners though!

Race results for La Bombarde 2017

Race results for Le Defi d’Oule (combined events)

Race Report: Ultra Trail de la Motte Chalancon 2016 – 86km

Its been a few years since I’ve run a ‘proper’ ultra so I was looking forward to getting a long distance race under my belt in 2016. Through social media I found out that a new race had been created fairly close to me – the Ultra Tour de la Motte Chalancon.At 86km and 4,500m of height gain it was a simialr profile to past ultras, and I thought it would be a good test to see if I could set myself up for some longer stuff later in the year.

I booked into a hotel at Remuzat, about 10 minutes drive from the start line and headed to the bib collection. I was a bit early so had to hang around and despite a few teething problems with the pickup process everyone was friendly and welcoming. Grabbing my goodie bag (Buff, a jar of local honey and some discount vouchers) I headed back to the hotel to eat my pasta, arrange my kit and get an early night,

It feels odd to set your alarm for 2.50am, but that’s what I did, and was successfuly up, changed and out of the door by 3.30am, managing to park in La Motte Chalancon and get to the start line just about in time.

The problem with 4am race starts is that nobody in their right mind wants to get up and at that time and watch 100 lunatics head off into the dawn at a very slow pace so consequently in a lot of races there’s not much crowd support. This was no different but the organisers made a big effort, playing music and having the marshalls burning red flares as we ran our way through the streets of the town.

We soon left the town and headed up the first climb – the usual strung out line of head torches as everyone settled into a rhythm. There’s never much to see and with the low cloud from the storms we had been having still clinging to the mountainsides, the view was fairly dull so I just got my head down and followed the feet of the runner in front.

The middle of July in the Provençale French Alps is hot. Luckily however, after day after day of 35ºC blue skies the rains came and the cooler weather arrived meaning the conditions were much cooler. It was still warm enough at the 4am start to run in t-shirt, and I liberally applied the SPF50 at the start, but hopefully heat stroke was not going to be a significant issue.

Unfortunately the downside to this was that at the top of the first climb after a couple of hours on the trail, we didn’t really get to see much of a dawn – just a murky twilight but gradually the views got clearer and clearer.

Up in the gloomy clouds at the top of the first series of climbs was a welcome aid station


I didn’t have any support crew at this race, so there was no opportunity to eat anything I either couldn’t carry mysef, or find at the food stops. Although the race was only 86km, it really would have helped if there had been the opportunity to leave a drop bag. I tend to find that French races don’t really offer this unless we’re talking about the very long events (e.g.. 100 milers). Since the weather forecast was poor, and I couldn’t carry all the food I wanted, being able to leave a change of shoes and some food at the halfway point would have been a big benefit.

As a result, I stuffed about a dozen energy bars and 8 or 9 gels into my race pack and figured I would take my chances with the aid stations. Unfortunately the food choices at the aid stops weren’t amazing (crisps, cheese, salami, crackers, apricots etc, with soup at later stops) so I probably ended up eating too many of my energy bars and gels, meaning I took on way too much sugar and I started getting digestion problems after about 60km.


The weather forecast predicted a fine morning with possible thunder storms in the afternoon, and the morning did turn out to be perfect running conditions, and after 8 hours I’d reached almost 50km into the race and got three or four major climbs out of the way. Just after mid day, at the highest point of the race, the heavens opened and huge globs of heavy rain came heaving down. This was quickly followed by enormous cracks of thunder and lightning – being on top of the highest mountain in the area was quite a terrifying place to be so I headed into the descent as quickly as possible.

Although we had clouds and thunderstorms the temperatures were still in the high 20s so a chance to cool off in a stream was very welcome.


Although I had a rain jacket, the undergrowth was suddenly so wet, that my feet and shorts were soon soaked from running through the bushes on the way down. At the bottom of the descent, which took maybe 90 minutes, I found myself in Remuzat, site of my hotel, and making my way into a barn to a loud round of applause (as all the runners got) from the assembled volunteers.

The barn was dry and warm, so I was able to at least change into a pair of socks from my pack, although they were pretty wet anyway. The organisers were holding back the runners because the ongoing storm was making it dangerous to head up the next mountain. We could hear lots of sirens as the gendarmes and fire service rushed by in the street outside – although I don’t believe it had anything to do with anyone involved in the race.

By this point I was starting to feel very sick. I really didn’t want to eat, and had barely eaten an energy bar in the last two hours. I forced myself to drink some of the noodle soup but that was about all I could face. After 20 minutes or so we were given the all clear but I think I wouldn’t have been too upset at that point if the event had been cancelled.

The rain had stopped and the sky seemed to be brightening up, although there were still distant rumbles of thunder. Getting moving again was difficult – I was cold and shivery and couldn’t get moving smoothly – my limbs felt stiff and the run along a river bank trail was difficult to get back into the swing.

Even worse was to come – the ‘trail’ moved sharply upwards, following the route of a waterfall. Streaks of orange paint showed the way, because we weren’t following a trail for most of the time but were simply crawling up slick rocks.

A couple of sections had via ferrata wires or fixed ropes in place and were necessary as losing your step could have ended badly. Some sections even had fixed ladders, but the rest of it was steep, stepped, slippery rocks.

Finally topping out on an undulating plateau, were still picking our way through slick rocks which made running difficult and dangerous and I cursed the organisers several times. However the biggest problem was that I was simply bonking – I’d taken on so little fuel in the last few hours that I was in danger of not being able to reel it back in.

I sat down on a rock and had a little word with myself – forced down an energy gel and almost vomitted. I think it would have been better if I had. That was basically the pattern until at around 10km to go, I got to the final aid station. A bit more magic soup and some words of encouragement from the organisers and were back out for what should really be a simple 10km, mostly downhill run to the finish.

Although my energy reserves were sapping at this point, I actually found the downhill single track quite easy and fun, and was able to keep a good pace, catching a few groups in front who had been way out of sight earlier. However we ran through some very claggy fire roads and the clay-like mud stuck to the soles of my shoes and wouldn’t shed, adding a lot of extra weight just when I needed it least.

Descending back towards La Motte Chalancon, there were a couple of (by now very swolen, fast running and silty) river crossings and a what seemed like never ending run through the streets of the town.

Just before 7pm I made it across the finish line with a time of 14:58:06, getting 44th (out of 84 starters) place. A small ceramic medal, and a finisher’s gilet were awarded at the end, and a complimentary meal at a local restaurant was available, although was so cold and tired at the end I just headed back to my hotel.

Overally this was a great race. The course was challenging with some exceptionally steep climbing in places. The organisers and volunteers were superb as is always the case with French races and the scenery is breathtaking despite being spoilt somewhat by the weather. On top of that, the race was worth 3 of the old style UTMB entry points (or 5 of the new ITRA points). I would definitely do the race again although there are so many other events on my bucket list that I’m a bit spoilt for choice.

Race Report: Trail des Cimes du Buëch 2016 – 42km

May 22nd, 2016
La Faurie, France

The Trail des Cimes du Buëch is now in its third year, and I had ran the 2014 and 2015 versions which comprised of a quick 17km circuit with some amazing views. This year the 17km version was included in the Challenge Trails 05 competition, but on top of this was added a 42km mara’trail event with nearly 3000m of climbing.

The race profile - getting hard as it goes on

The race profile – getting hard as it goes on – the last climb at 36km was exceptionally steep

I entered the event at the last minute because I’ve been recovering from a torn calf muscle which stopped my training for around a month, so I was keen to take this one easy and use it as a test to see how much fitness I still had left.

The first third of the race takes in most of the original 17km, and I know from experience that its a hard climb, although rewarded with some amazing panoramic scenery. The latter stages of the race are also pretty hilly though so I was careful not to go out too fast.

As every year, the race starts at the football pitch in La Faurie

As every year, the race starts at the football pitch in La Faurie

Only 38 runners lined up at the chilly start, but there was a good atmosphere and pretty soon we were off. The tough climb at the beginning was everything I expected, followed a by a rocky, technical descent.






The weather was warm and sunny, but as the race went on the wind really caught up. The photo above shows a climb about two-thirds of the way in and an enormous wind blowing from the south was actually blowing me off my feat as I climbed up onto the ridge. My cap had to be lashed to my trekking poles otherwise it would be half way to Lyon by now.


After 35km I was starting to flag, but the last climb although not the biggest definitely felt the toughest. After a hot and tiring climb the descent off the other side was technical and very tough on the legs.

Top of the final climb, with the finish in the distance

Top of the final climb, with the finish in the distance

Back down in the forest on the final run in.

Back down in the forest on the final run in.

Cheese and Coke at the finish.

Cheese and Coke at the finish.


Race Report: Bayard Snow Trail 2016

With the exception of ultra marathons with early starts/late finishes, I’d never really done any night racing so I was looking forward to this evening trail race on the snow trails of the southern French Alps.

I had some eye surgery at the beginning of the year which meant I had to take it easy on physical exercise for a few weeks. The upshot is that I’m only getting back up to fitness and so I wasn’t expecting great things in the first race of this season, the Bayard Trail Snow Race near Gap.

My pre-race warmup, consisting of standing around the firepit chatting to my mate Manu.

My pre-race warmup, consisting of standing around the firepit chatting to my mate Manu.

I’d also forgotten how hard racing was. 90 minutes of full one exertion with no opportunity for micro-rest like on training runs where a little fiddle with your shoes, or a drink of water gives you a small chance to get back some breath.

The full moon rising above the mountains of the Ecrins

The full moon rising above the mountains of the Ecrins

This was the first edition of the Bayard Trail and its part of the Challenge Trails 05 events that I competed in last year so I fancied getting stuck in, especially since my goal this year is to run longer stuff so I might do less of the shorter, sharper races. To be honest the organisation wasn’t the best – first of all despite having registered online a few days before, I had to queue along with all the people registering on the day. Why don’t race organisers (I know some do) have separate lines for ‘on the day’ entry?

Lining up at the start

Lining up at the start

Anyway, because of the enormous lines (I think there were around 150 racers) the start of the race was delayed 20 minutes. Luckily there was a huge fire pit to keep warm by as the sun dropped and the full moon came out.

Race profile

Race profile

Eventually we were ready to race – the course consisted of two loops, with one of them done twice. The total distance was around 16km with 400m of vertical. It was undulating rather than steep with some quite punchy changes in gradient that made it difficult to keep a rhythm. Upshot, it was tough going.

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After the typical fast jostling for a position at the start I settled into somewhere around a third of the way down the course and pretty much kept position, maybe losing about 10 places around the duration of the race.

The biggest thing that struck me was how little scenery you see. Despite being entirely on snow, with clear skies and a full moon, using a headtorch meant my night vision never got established and all I ever saw was the trail a couple of metres in front of me. There was a nice view over the town of gap, with the city lights twinkling in the valley below, but for the most part it was a fairly monotonous race.

Fellow racers climbing the hill behind me, with the lights of Gap below in the background

Fellow racers climbing the hill behind me, with the lights of Gap below in the background

At least the race meant I got some points in the bag for the Challenge Trails 05 competition.

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There were a couple of ravito stops during the race but I never took advantage – at the end however was a bowl of the hottest noodle soup I’ve ever had in my life.

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Race Report: Trail Gapen’cimes 2015 – 55km

I almost didn’t get to run this race. As you may or may not know, the French insist on seeing a signed medical certificate from your doctor before allowing you to race. Every year I go to my GP, she checks my pulse and blood pressure and then signs my note. It lasts for a year and I can supply photocopies to race organisers with no problem – in fact I’ve run 8 races in France this year with the same form.

GAPENCIMES 2015 from AIR libre on Vimeo.

The Gapen’Cimes series of races took place over the weekend of 3rd/4th October, with the 55km/3000m Edelweiss race being on the Sunday. Since the race would start at 6.30am, and the start was at least an hour from my home I decided to pick up my race bib on the Saturday, since we had to be in the city of Gap, where the start/finish was, anyway.

The course profile - pretty lumpy with the climbs getting progressively higher.

The course profile – pretty lumpy with the climbs getting progressively higher.

When I went to collect my race number I was told that the regulations had changed, and my medical certificate had to explicitly state that not only was I am fit to run a race, but that I was fit to run ‘in competition’. Sadly, my certificate didn’t say that. It was only after the race staff tracked down my doctor, and had her email them an attestation that I would be OK, that they would let me enter.

Bib collection on Saturday - like most things in France connected to paperwork, it wasn't straightforward

Bib collection on Saturday – like most things in France connected to paperwork, it wasn’t straightforward

If I’d left this to 6am on Sunday morning I wouldn’t have had chance to do this, so I’m very glad I decided to try to save myself some time.

On Saturday afternoon the south of France was being deluged by huge storms, some of which sadly claimed the lives of several people down on the Mediterranean coast as tunnels and underground carparks were swamped and people were washed away by flash floods.

The runners on Saturday had to contend with some terrible weather - here they are completing the shorter courses in the middle of a huge storm

The runners on Saturday had to contend with some terrible weather – here they are completing the shorter courses in the middle of a huge storm

Up in the Alps things weren’t quite so bad, but the rain was torrential and violent lightning storms flashed and rumbled long into the night. It was announced that although the weather would be fair on Sunday, the route would altered as many of the trails had washed away and for the safety of runners and marshals, some of it would have to be rerouted. The race start was also postponed to 7am.

I woke up on Sunday morning thankful to not hear the rain pounding on the windows. Driving towards Gap, there were still lightning flashes in the distance but thankfully it stayed dry.

Running through the early morning streets of Gap

Running through the early morning streets of Gap

300 runners assembled in the Parc de la Pépinièrein the centre of Gap. The pre-race briefing explained that the new route wouldn’t add any significant distance to the expected 55km, but to groans from the crowd of runners it was announced we would have an extra 300m of vertical to climb on top of the usual 3000m.

A quick gear check, countdown, and we were off. Running the through Sunday morning streets of Gap (a small town of perhaps 30,000 people, but one of the largest towns in the area) to the occasional applause and encouragement. The local police were holding the (admittedly light) traffic to allow us to run unhindered to the outskirts, and after a few KMs we were on trails heading up to the mountains of the Haute-Alpes.

For this race, and for the first time ever I was using a pair of trekking poles (or cheating sticks as they’re rather sneeringly referred to in the UK). I’ve never really used them before, but for the next couple of years my aim is to bag a few more ultra distance events with a view to getting to a 100 miler. I’m not sure if the use of poles made a positive difference but they certainly weren’t a hinderance.

The early stages of the race

The early stages of the race

I’d say that at least 70% of runners were using poles, and since we’d had so much rain the many streams that we had to cross had been transformed into raging torrents, they were a big help when crossing. The first couple of streams, we were able to gingerly pick our way over the rocks, but our feet still got soaked so myself and many others decided it was better off to just run through, get the feet wet and hope they dried out in the sun.

One of the early stream crossings - the guy in yellow fell in shortly after this picture was taken - after that we all decided it was pointless trying to keep our feet dry

One of the early stream crossings – the guy in yellow fell in shortly after this picture was taken – after that we all decided it was pointless trying to keep our feet dry

The first checkpoint at Rabou came at about the quarter-way stage – there weren’t many food stops, but they had the standard French trail running fare – cheese, salami, ginerbread cake, chocolate, apricots, crisps, bread flat and fizzy water and Coca-Cola. I availed myself of the food, cleared some grit out of my wet shoes and got moving.

A couple of ponies, seemingly nonplussed by the magnificent scenery

A couple of ponies, seemingly nonplussed by the magnificent scenery

As we left Rabou, we climbed higher into the mountains and sun came out – the surrounding countryside was awash with autumn colours and to the northeast we could see the high mountains of the Ecrins national park, and the recent dusting of snow that must have fallen in last night’s storm on some of the lower peaks.

Looking over to the Ecrins

Looking over to the Ecrins

To be honest, most of the race was fairly standard. I deliberately kept myself to a sensible rhythm, aiming to dose out my energy over the course of the race and not blow up. It was hard not to run some of the descents too fast though, as there were some great tracks, including a fairly kamikaze dash through a field of scree which was a lot of fun.

A nice easy, grassy descent in the sun

A nice easy, grassy descent in the sun


By the time we made it up the final climb to a spectacular view, I was pretty knackered and little bit dejected at the final checkpoint when I asked a marshal how many had come though and he said “most, maybe three-quarters”. I was sure that I was still in the top half of the race even though things had definitely thinned out. Nobody was passing me in fact I had gained a place every couple of KMs.

VIRB Picture

VIRB Picture

VIRB Picture

That final checkpoint was just 11km from the finish, and all of it was downhill on fairly easily runnable terrain. However it was the hardest point of the race, and running into the streets of Gap, despite the cheers and applause of random onlookers, and even encouragement from the police holding up the traffic, the run into the finish seemed to take forever.

VIRB Picture

VIRB Picture

VIRB Picture


VIRB Picture

VIRB Picture


I made it over the finish line in 8h41’37”, placing me 138th out of 297 starters, so in the end was quite happy with a top half finish.

Race Report: Trail de la Traversée des Aiguilles

The skyline above my village is recognisable by the distinctive shape of the Col des Aiguilles, the pass that connects the La Jarjatte valley with the Dévoluy range of mountains. It’s this col that gives the name to last Sunday’s race so this race felt pretty local to me.

Unfortunately, despite just being a few KMs as the crow flies, it was nearly an hour as the Volvo drives, such are the vagaries of Alpine roads. Still, being able to leave the house at 7.30am felt like a lie in compared to some other races I’ve had to get up at an ungodly hour for.

At only 16km, the Trail de la Traversée des Aiguilles was the shortest in the Challenge Trails 05 series, but with almost 1,000m of vertical it wasn’t going to be easy. Despite autumn being underway in the Alps, it was a beautiful weekend and Sunday morning was perfect for racing, with cool temperatures (that soon warmed up when the sun came out) and dry conditions.

A sea of cloud in the valley below in Dévoluy, taken from the Col du Festre, warming up before the start of the race

A sea of cloud in the valley below in Dévoluy, taken from the Col du Festre, warming up before the start of the race


The bib number collection was inside a small cafe on the Col du Festre, which was pretty crowded but had the added advantage that they served a great espresso. Pretty soon we were ready to start, and all 120 runners were off.

I’d had a couple of days off during the week while I recovered from a cold, and during my first run back on Friday I felt knackered and really struggled on the hills, so took it easy on Saturday. I had the illusion of feeling fresh, but pretty soon had to dial it back in.

The route climbed first to the Cabin de Rama, a refuge I had passed before on a training run so the early trails were familiar. Soon however, we headed up to the Col des Aiguilles where after some great running in the lower, flatter sections, it soon got very steep.

The flatter sections heading towards the col - the running here was fast and fun

The flatter sections heading towards the col – the running here was fast and fun


With the Col in site, the race leaders were starting to descend back down into the valley towards the rest of us. Despite running flat out on technical ground, most of them were full of encouragement to those of us slogging up the steep slope with cries of “Allez-allez!” and the odd “bravo!” chucked in for good measure.

The cairn marking the top of the Col, and the border between the Drome and Haute-Alpes departements. When I got to the top, I could see my house down the other side, just 4km away, but still had 9km to run to complete the race.

The cairn marking the top of the Col, and the border between the Drome and Haute-Alpes departements. When I got to the top, I could see my house down the other side, just 4km away, but still had 9km to run to complete the race.


At the top of the Col, a marshall marked out race number to prove we’d made it – a quick glug of water from the drinks table (fair play to the marshalls for dragging water up to the top – even a 4×4 couldn’t get up there) and it was time to descend.



This was probably when I should have put my iPhone away and not worried about trying to get some pictures. It doesn’t look too steep in the picture above but behind the guy in blue climbing upwards, it drops away quite steeply (which is why you can’t see the lines of other runnres). I overcooked it a little bit and had to stop myself running away out of control.



After the Col there was another steep climb but some nice traverses in between. Back at the Cabine du Rama we retraced our steps a little bit, and I got lost at one point, leaving the trail after I missed a marker, and it was only when I saw another runner up above that I realised I’d gone wrong. I climbed up the side of the hill to rejoin the trail, managing to fall flat on my face in the process and defiitely lost one, maybe two places that I wasn’t able to make up.

A couple of KMs before the end, the race routed into and through a barn which was full of lambs

A couple of KMs before the end, the race routed into and through a barn which was full of lambs


Anyhow, I got myself back to the finish in just under 2 hours – 31st place.

Race Report: Trail des Balcons de Châteauvieux

When: Sunday, 17th August 2015
Where: Châteauvieux, Haute-Alpes (05), France

Another Challenge Trails 05 race – this time south of Gap in the hills around the lovely village of Châteauvieux. I didn’t see many old castles, but then I was too busy running up and down steep hills to pay much attention.

The race start

The race start


There’s a writeup from the race organisers (in French) on the official website. 135 runners started the 22km course with the usual selection of mountain-bred speedgoats. It was a warm, but not too hot day and there were no enormous climbs, just constant, undulating trails which made it hard to get into a rhythm but made for some punchy racing.


After the start, and a loop around the village which helped thin out the ranks before we hit the trails, the race climbed up into the rocky, lunar landscape you can see in the pictures above and below. The gravel was loose and quite often there were large ruts to jump down, over or climb up which made for some interesting running.


Looking back across the valley at the runners behind me, making their way down the cliff edge. Unusually for a French race there was safety netting in place!

Looking back across the valley at the runners behind me, making their way down the cliff edge. Unusually for a French race there was safety netting in place!


Out of the Coté de Grosse Pierres (hill of big rocks – the early Provencale settlers had more pressing concerns than imaginative place names), we got onto more traditional terrain – plenty of forest single track and rutted trails – shade from the sun and plenty of technical descending.

Out of the rocks and into the forest - running along the 'balcons' the race is named for.

Out of the rocks and into the forest – running along the ‘balcons’ the race is named for – great views.


Again, as I’m becoming used to racing in France – this was another faultlessly marked trail. No navigation was needed, I just had to follow the markers hanging from trees or on rocks which meant I could concentrate on the running.

Heading back to the finish more or less the way we came. Nasty hills for tired legs – the climbing crag of Ceuse can be seen on the left shrouded in cloud.


After a few meandering loops of the balcons, the race came back to the rocky landscape we saw at the start, and more or less retraced it’s steps. It was here I noticed there were a few nasty hills to contend with, which helped me pull back a couple of places as other runners who had gone out ahead started to tire.

VIRB Picture


Catching and overtaking another runner in the last couple of KMs - always satisfying to chase someone down, especially if they've passed you earlier in the race which I think this guy had.

Catching and overtaking another runner in the last couple of KMs – always satisfying to chase someone down, especially if they’ve passed you earlier in the race which I think this guy had.


VIRB Picture


I managed to get home in 31st place in a time of 2h12’26” – pretty much as expected and fairly happy with the result.

Other runners crossing the line in the main village

Other runners crossing the line in the main village



Race details on Strava

Race Report: Trail des Passerelles du Monteynard 2015

South of Grenoble lies Lac de Monteynard-Avignonet, a huge artificial lake created in 1961 after EDF dammed the Drac river to create a hydro-electric power station. Long and narrow, and bordered on all sides by mountains, it’s great leisure destination and popular for kite and windsurfing. In 2007, two Himalayan-style suspension bridges, or passerelles, were constructed to give an awe-inspiring, if vertiginous crossing over the Drac and Ebron rivers. It’s these passerelles that form part of a 57km race, and give it it’s name.

There’s a great video of the race below:

Lac de Monteynard-Avignonet in the distance, taken during the race. The view is looking west, and you can see the famous Mont Aiguille, at quite an oblique angle, in the far distance on the skyline to the right.

Lac de Monteynard-Avignonet in the distance, taken during the race. The view is looking north-west, and you can see the famous Mont Aiguille, at quite an unusual angle, in the far distance on the skyline to the right

I’ve been to the lake many times, hiking over the bridges and taking our kayak onto the water, so when I saw that a series of races were taking place I signed up to the Trail des Passerelles du Monteynard. There’s a few options on offer; 13km, 15km, 25km, 35km, and 55km. I signed up for the 55km event (actually 57km on the day when the roadbook was published) figuring that this would be a good mid-season test.

Waiting on the west bank of the lake at Treffort, for the boat to come in and shuttle us across to the start.

Waiting on the west bank of the lake at Treffort, for the boat to come in and shuttle us across to the start.

I live about an hour south of the lake, and since the race started at 6.30am, and also started on the opposite bank to the finish, where I would leave my car, necessitating a boat crossing, I had to set my alarm for 3.30am in order to make it on time. At least I wasn’t going to hit tourist traffic at that hour.

For the past few weeks, the French Alps have been suffering under an oppressive heatwave, and this hadn’t abated for this race – warnings were sent out by the organisers stating a minimum 1.5L reserve of water per participant, and asking runners to look out for signs of disorientation and dehydration in their fellow competitors. At 5.30am, waiting for the boat, it was already climbing up into the low 20s.


Race start at Savel, on the opposite side of the lake.

After retrieving my race number and dumping my free t-shirt and the rest of my race pack with the bag drop people I boarded the boat. It was only as we disembarked that I noticed I was about the only person without a timing chip on my shoes. I hadn’t seen this mentioned anywhere in the documentation and was in such a hurry when I got my race pack that I missed it – this was confirmed by the race organisers – oh well, I just wouldn’t get an official time or any race splits – too late to worry about it now.

Race countdown, my Garmin playing up and not getting a proper satellite lock and a shuffling run out of town – so far, so normal. We were essentially running out of a holiday resort during the peak of the tourist season so the support at the start was pretty good, but pretty soon we found ourselves climbing up into the hills and away from civilisation.


It was still fairly cool, and I felt good so it was a challenge to try to dial in the pace – I knew it was going to be a long day with humid conditions and temperatures forecast to hit 35ºC by lunchtime.

VIRB Picture

The Chemin de Fer de la Mure

Great views of the lake running along the Chemin de Fer de la Mure

Great views of the lake running along the Chemin de Fer de la Mure

Along the eastern edge of the lake is an old coal-carrying railway, the chemin de fer de la Mure, which was repurposed as a tourist train, but is now sadly out of action due to a landslide destroying part of the track in 2010. However this gave us the opportunity to run along the tracks, through the tunnels and get some amazing views as we did so.

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The first few climbs were not too challenging, and pretty soon I’d racked up 25km of distance before running into another well stocked aid station at Avellans, but before that we got to run through the old mineshafts – a discontinued mineral mine, now open as  a museum – it was lovely and cool, and all too brief before we were back out into the blazing sun.

Running through the old mineshafts

Running through the old mineshafts

After a brief descent, it was time to tackle the first nasty climb of the day, a long slog up to the Col du Sénépy. Luckily it was fairly shady for the first two-thirds of the way up, but once we got above the treeline the heat was intense. Some of the climb was steep enough to need fixed ropes as well.

Climbing up to the col du Sénépy

Climbing up to the col du Sénépy

The view from the top was fantastic, and I could see all the way to the Col des Aiguilles that frame the backdrop to my house in the valley of La Jarjatte.


Windy and barren, but still very hot we picked our way through the trails. I didn’t get any pictures but during the run down into the aid station at the col, myself and two other runners were joined by several cows from a nearby herd that rather than getting out of the way, ran alongside us for several hundred meters – it was a like a very slow, mini-Pamplona.

The aid station at the Col du Sénépy was idyllic – an old shepherd hut with a local springwater being sprayed into the air to provide in-situ cool showers for runners, and lots of food and drink laid on. This couldn’t take away from the fact that what lay ahead was an organ-shaking, hot and dusty descent of around 900m – this was where I really started to feel the effects of the heat.

Reaching the bottom of the descent, a good hour or so later and I was beginning to suffer – the village hosting the aid station had a fountain, and volunteers were filling bottles with springwater and spraying hoses at runners. I sat in the shade under an awning, draping a water-soaked Buff over my head for 10 minutes to try to cool down, before heading back out again.

The passerelle in the distance, spanning the Drac river

The passerelle in the distance, spanning the Drac river

Feeling slightly refereshed I headed out again, only to start getting cramps on the climb up to the first passerelle.

VIRB Picture

Crossing the first passerelle

There was a strictly-enforced walking-pace only on the bridges, otherwise they could start swinging wildy – it was especially windy up there too. I don’t think too many people were feeling like running by that point anyway.

VIRB Picture

After crossing the second bridge, and reaching the aid station I suddenly felt overwhelmed with stomach cramps and nausea. This passed after a while and so I embarked on the final climb of the day, only for the nausea to come back – with less than 7km to go, I decided to bail out.

This is the first time I’ve ever quit a race – I missed the cut off at 60km in my first ever ultra-marathon, but this time I knew that if I pushed further it wasn’t going to end well.

I’m disappointed, and keep replaying why I overcooked it. Did I go out too quickly? I don’t think so – I made conscious effort to keep the early pace easy. Did I not drink enough? I’m pretty sure I did – 4.5L of water with electrolyte tabs (plus extra at aid stations). Was I not habituated enough to the heat? Well I thought I was – I done a couple of 30km training runs in the previous couple of weeks in 30º+ temperatures.

Judging by the queues at the medical tents, and the huge number of abandonments it was obvious the weather played a part. This summer has been unusually hot for the French Alps – thankfully we’ve had thunder storms in the last couple of days to bring a bit of relief.

The event itself was wonderfully organised and supported, and I’d recommend this to anyone. The support was great and scenery and running environment was phenomenal. The event clashes with another race I’d like to do, so maybe I won’t be back next year, but I’ll definitely be back.


Race Report: Trail EDF Rousset

Where: Lac de Serre-Ponçon, Haute-Alpes (05), France
When: Sunday 7th June 2015

It was a wonder I ever made it to the start line of the Trail EDF Rousset, since I’d managed to add it to my training calendar for the wrong week, expecting it to be the following weekend. Luckily my wife noticed and reminded me which is a good job, as it was a fantastic event that I’m hoping to come back and do again next year.

Trail EDF Rousset Serre Ponçon 2015 from Vincent Kronental on Vimeo.

The Course

Lac de Serre-Ponçon is an enormous artificial lake in the Haute-Alpes, just east of the town of Gap. I’ve been there a few times and we’ve taken our kayak out onto its beautiful blue waters in the summer. The lake is created by the damming of the Durance and Ubaye rivers that flows down from the Alps, and provides irrigation and hydroelectricity to the surrounding area. Needless to say its a dramatic and scenic location for a trail race.

The course profile - around 1,600m of cumulative elevation over 32km of trail

The course profile – around 1,600m of cumulative elevation over 32km of trail

Along with the main 32km race, with around 100 participants, a shorter 22km race, and an 8km hiking race were laid on using parts of the same course.

The Race

The hail stones from the previous evening didn't give me a good feeling about the course conditions, but I needn't have worried.

The hail stones from the previous evening didn’t give me a good feeling about the course conditions, but I needn’t have worried.

The race started at 8am, and is a good 90 minute drive from my home, so I had to get up at 4.50am to give myself enough time to get there and collect my race number and warm up for the start. The day before was exceptionally hot, followed by a huge thunderstorm that brought huge hail stones raining down on us. When I left my house early on Sunday morning there were still piles of hail stones everywhere.

However, out on the race course, although more thunderstorms were forecast for the afternoon, the course was dry and the biggest danger of the day was going to be dehydration and sun stroke.

The race began at the huge artificial EDF dam, and after the start we followed tarmac roads for a couple of KMs before kicking up into forest trails. There was quite an interesting traverse through an eerie moonscape of scree and pointy rocks before heading up into the forests (and shade) again.

VIRB Picture

VIRB Picture

The first 5km was just a warm up and passed pretty quickly, finishing with a short, fast descent into the first aid station where I grabbed some food and took in an energy gel. We were at the lowest point of the race, and the for the next 5km were going to have to climb the best part of 1000 vertical metres up to the top of Mont Colombis – definitely the main challenge of the day.

The long, hard climb up Mont Colombis

The long, hard climb up Mont Colombis

It was actually less daunting than I expected – for the first 75% of the climb the forest trails consisted of steep, but manageable switchback and I was able to keep a decent pace going – it was just simply a case of keeping the effort consistent and trying not to blow up – getting to the top would still only be less than half way through the race.

The tough, upper sections of Mont Colombis

The tough, upper sections of Mont Colombis

The average gradient of the whole climb was 19%, so it made sense that things were going to get harder near the top and it certainly did – ramping up to 30% in places – the path turned to loose rock and it became more of a scramble. At least somebody had started to paint Tour de France style slogans to encourage us to the food stop at the top.


Beautiful trails up on high, with the Lake in the distance below

Beautiful trails up on high, with the Lake in the distance below


There was still plenty of racing still to do, but at least with the exception of 3 small climbs, we were mostly running downhill. The race course joined the 22km section too, so I now found myself running through a lot of steep, rutted single track on a much more crowded course, but there were plenty of overtaking opportunities.

In places the course opened up to some spectacular scenery, although the speed of some of the descents made it hard to appreciate. The sun was out and the temperature was rising though the main concern was getting to the finish.

Kicking up dust on the latter half of the race

Kicking up dust on the latter half of the race

Just a couple of KMs from the finish, a couple of race volunteers where pouring buckets of water over the heads of racers – this was very welcome and I made sure I got a good dousing, but I was surprised they were doing it so close to the finish. Then as the road turned and trail stepped up into the forest I realised why – just when we were all completely ready for the finish, we had another very steep climb. It was probably no longer than 1km, with maybe 75m of ascent but placed at the end of the race like that it was a tough one to deal with.

The final, fast decent into the race finish down by the beach

The final, fast decent into the race finish down by the beach

It was soon over however, and all that was needed was a final, technical descent down a rocky path to the race finish at the beach of the lake. Encouraged by lots of tourists and other spectators, this was quite fun, and before long I was crossing the finish line in 25th place in a time of 3h35’45’.

VIRB Picture

VIRB Picture

Full results

Strava Data

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