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.
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 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.
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.
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.
After admiring the view, a short trail led down to drinks and food.
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 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 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.
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 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.
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.
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.
Gear Review: Brooks Cascadia 11
Brooks Cascadia 11
Brooks Cascadia are well known as an all-round, comfortable trail shoe that is slowly but surely improved year on year. In fact I’ve been a big fan of them ever since I got into trail running and bought my first pair of Cascadia 7s. This reputation for reliability took a battering last year – the online forums and discussion among runners was awash with tales of problems – the mesh of the upper coming away and exposing holes.
In fact I suffered the same problem – after only 50km of running, holes started to appear and by a couple of hundred they were wrecked.
After contacting Brooks, they replaced the pair without question, stating that:
We realise that our Cascadia 10 model is not as durable as the 9 and has inherent weak point in the upper between the two areas of the 3d fit print material which is designed to give structure of the shoe without utilising stitching. In most cases the problem does not transpire into a full rip but I can see from the pictures you have provided yours have fallen victim to this.
The new pair I received was fine, and after 600km shows no sign of ripping.
So this week I was in my local running shop, the amazing Endurance Shop in Gap. The staff were as friendly and informative as usual and while I was actually looking for a new race pack, I noticed the new Cascadia 11s. The shop assistant told me that they had needed to return 25% of the pairs they had sold of the version 10, but that the new pairs were very good and all of the issues had been fixed. I tried a pair on, went for a quick test run outside the shop, and then bought them.
The shoe seemes to be a narrower, more snug fit than previous versions. While I’ve found this an added bonus (I felt previous versions sometimes would let my feet slide around, especially when full of water) as it gives extra security and a more confident feeling when running. Others with wider feet might find this a problem, so I’d recommend trying before buying even if you’ve used previous versions of the shoe.
Brooks boast “trail-specific technologies that add a layer of protection” including a ballistic rock shield to protect your feet from debris and stones on the trail. The upper consists of Element Mesh, that Brooks say as well as being breathable, is also more durable and should avoid some of the unfortunate problems encountered with the version 10s.
There’s a 10mm drop, which I find just the sweet spot for long runs.
I’ve since been out for a few runs in them on my local trails here in the French Alps. This time of year each run can throw in a mixture of loose gravel paths, mud, ice, compacted snow, meltwater stream crossing and slick grass – usually all on the same run and so good testing conditions for an all-round shoe.
For the first 50km of running I was getting some heel rub on my left achilles, but this seems to have sorted itself out. The shoes feel stable and give plenty of grip, although as in previous versions are pretty rubbish on greasy rocks (but then most stuff is). The poor handling in greasy/wet conditions is down to the durable rubber compound used in the outsole, the benefit of which is the longevity that Cascadias are known for – each pair I’ve had I’ve run 1000 miles in and the last thing to show wear was the sole.
The inner and outer edges of the upper are waterproof, where joins the outsole. This means splashing through shallowish puddles or running in snow doesn’t get your feet wet, but the upper still stays breathable. I’ve also made a few freezing stream crossings and can attest that the water drains out quickly and your feet warm up again in no time.
Overall, Brooks seem to have redeemed themselves from the disaster of the Cascadia 10s. Only time will tell if the problems with the upper will reappear, but so far so good. The shoe remains stable and reliable, with traction that offers a good compromise between grip and durability. I will still grab a more aggressive shoe for shorter, faster, more technical runs, but the Cascadia remains my go-to, default shoe and my favourite for long ultras.
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.
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.
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?
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.
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.
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.
At least the race meant I got some points in the bag for the Challenge Trails 05 competition.
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.
Problems with Brooks Cascadia 10s?
I’ve been a big fan of Brooks Cascadia trail shoes ever since I got into the sport. I’ve owned a pair of 7s, 8s and 9s and done 1000 miles of rough trails in each pair before retiring them, and even then they still had life left in them. Needless to say I was pleased, so when 10s were released in the Spring, I simply ordered a pair without even thinking about it.
So it came as a bit of shock that after running the Marlborough Downs Challenge, not only did I get the most horrendous blisters, but small tears started to appear on the front of the shoes (it was hardly challenging terrain either). Over the next couple of weeks the tears got worse and worse. I started to notice that other people on the Social Media were experiencing similar problems as well, so I contacted Brooks customer support.
I very promptly received a reply from a very helpful customer support agent who explained:
We realise that our Cascadia 10 model is not as durable as the 9 and has inherent weak point in the upper between the two areas of the 3d fit print material which is designed to give structure of the shoe without utilising stitching. In most cases the problem does not transpire into a full rip but I can see from the pictures you have provided yours have fallen victim to this.
We have rectified this with an improvement on our Cascadia 11 shoe which will be available from January 2016.
Not only that, once I’d supplied proof of purchase information, they were perfectly happy to send me a new pair. I’m also happy to say that since then I’ve done another 300km in the new pair and there’s barely a scratch.
I wish more companies would treat their loyal customers as well as this.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
300 runners assembled in the Parc de la Pépinière, in 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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
I managed to get home in 31st place in a time of 2h12’26” – pretty much as expected and fairly happy with the result.
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:
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Feeling slightly refereshed I headed out again, only to start getting cramps on the climb up to 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.
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.