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Tour du Mont Blanc — THE RACE
Mont Blanc is justly famous. Not only is it the highest mountain in the Alps, at 15,771', but enormous glaciers slice down almost to the valley floors on all sides, carving extremely steep mountain faces and ridges; images that are iconic throughout the world. The vertical relief is tremendous; while sipping cappuccino or nibbling on escargot in a top-notch sidewalk café, the snowy summits loom 12,000' straight overhead.
There happens to be a trail that completely circles this entire mountain range. It is a pure loop, 163 km (100 miles) long, with about 9,000 meters of elevation gain, traversing parts of three countries: France, Italy, and Switzerland. And since 2002, there is a race on this trail, the Ultra-Trail du Mont Blanc, aka the "Tour du Mont Blanc." Limited to 2,000 people, the race filled this January in the first 10 hours entry was open.
This year, about 20 Americans entered, including back of the packers, experienced trail runners, and some of the best ultra runners in the world. Since every race's story really is as many stories as there are people running, here is this event described by three of the participants.
INTRO
Buzz
It's midnight in the town square of Chamonix. The air is cool and pleasant, the mountains loom overhead in the moonlight, and people are talking gaily at the sidewalk tables spilling out onto the old stone plaza. Racers continue to stream up the main street, running between colorful barricades and flags, while 200 or so ?spectators cheer every single one. It's loud, it's spectacular, it's joyous, and … did I say it was after Midnight?
I think back to the previous night on the course. Sometime in the wee hours we ran into the town of Contamines ... it was like being in the Tour de France … hundreds of people, cheering wildly for all of us, great food spread out on the tables, the town all lit up. Then we're off into the dark again, beginning another monster ascent, but even nearing timberline, there's a lone cabin by the side of the trail and it's occupants have built a huge bonfire in the night, they have party music playing on the deck, and they're all standing in the dark and cold cheering the steady stream of racers going by. Above the stars and moon illuminate the impossibly high summits, while below is a line of tiny white dots stretching back 5 miles; headlamps snaking their way up from the dark valley below.
It's now well after 1 am in the town square. Runners often finish in pairs; five guys finish all abrest. After 30 hours, an event like this can only be a bonding experience. All are cheered vigorously; one would think it was New Years Eve in Times Square, not the middle of the night in a small town in France. One racer spots his wife and children in the crowd. 20 meters from the line he comes to a complete stop, reaches over the barrier, and brings his son and daughter over to run in with him. The mate he was finishing with - whom he'd never met until this night - also stops and waits patiently, then the four of them cross the line together, holding hands.
WHY DO THIS?
Peter Bakwin
Why did I do this race? It's a 100 mi trail race in France ... we got a group to go ... the time was right. It's fun to have a group.
We wouldn't have a crew, so my plan was to carry gels and powdered drinks, leave them in the two drop bag locations allowed, and otherwise get anything else I needed from the aid stations.
I didn't have strong expectations, but didn't think it would hard to get in before 2nd night. But the course was harder than expected, and I had issues.
Jack Jewell
I wanted to do something with the Boulder Trail Runners group. I got into Western States, and was thinking of doing the Grand Slam, but people were talking about UTMB. I could have waited until next year, but obviously these guys weren't coming here twice in a row, so the heck with it; it's more important to go with friends. Glad I did!
It was kind of like I expected. I knew it was going to be hard - I'd seen part of the course before last June. I stayed at a hotel in Champex, with a wonderful plan to go to Couryameur one day and come back the next. It was raining, and the snow was knee deep, which was OK, but then it turned into a total white out. I tried a few different directions, but finally had to retreat about a km short of the Col du Ferret.
Buzz Burrell
This is a great route. I've always specifically preferred loops, and this one is super-classic: around the tallest mountain in the Alps, taking the shortest and easiest route. It's like the Hardrock course: it's so good I would backpack it whether there was a race or not; one can't say that about Leadville or most race courses.
Then I pulled a calf muscle in April and didn't run a step in May, and decided I couldn't do this. But the group was a strong incentive; we were set up: my Award Ticket was issued, hotel booked, it was all dialed in, all I had to do was show up. My girlfriend said, "Start out with Stephanie. If you do, you'll finish in front of her. If you don't, you'll finish behind her". When I told Scott (Jurek) of my very non-ultra training, he advised, "Just start really conservative".
This was all excellent advice. I didn't follow any of it.
THE RACE?
Peter
I felt I ran comfortably in the beginning, and going down the first hill people were going crazy … I think some of them later blew up. Then after that people were slightly faster on the ups and I'd catch them on the down, which is my normal pattern. Most of these people are not really runners; they are very strong skiers and climbers. I was really getting people running downhill at night, because I was using a handheld light. You can't use that with poles, and almost everyone uses poles.
I was doing fine until the downhill into Couryameur, which seemed really long and steep, and my quads started to hurt. Left Couryameur with Ryan (Cooper, another BTR), just as it was getting light. Ryan soon dropped me, but it was all OK; I'd run away from people on the flat, they'd pass me on the up, I'd catch back up on the down …
Jack
When my friend Bob and I picked up our numbers, he discovered he had accidentally registered for a different (shorter) race! He hadn't come all the way to France to run the 50, so I said, "Fine, put your stuff in my drop bags, I'll get food for both of us at the aid stations." So his first 100 miler would be as a bandit, on a tough course, in a foreign country.
Made for some funny logistics … he'd give me his Camelback bladder, and I'd fill it up while also filling my water bottles, while he went around and waited outside the aid station. They were using the chips and checking people in carefully, so we tried to be discreet. Sometimes I'd walk out with a bowl of soup, pretend to be sipping it, then give it to Bob. So it was all pretty amusing. We played it safe and it worked out.
We screwed up one time - La Fouly - and got separated for quite awhile. I went back and forth, but couldn't find him and even tried calling him on my cellphone. Finally had to just keep going, and found him far ahead. I had all his water.
Buzz
The crowd scene leaving town was remarkable. A solid stream of runners, pressed together by a solid corridor of cheering spectators, lasting for a mile. Made you feel pretty good … probably made one run a little too fast as well!
The first climb was steep, and the descent down the back was really steep, and on pavement. Seemed moderate to me, so I passed a lot of people. My quads were rubbery by the time we entered the cheering throngs at St Gervais, but I didn't think much of it.
About 4 hours into the race, Peter suddenly caught up with me. "Huh?!" I was shocked. I thought I had been going slow and he was far ahead. This was not a good omen. We chatted a minute before he went ahead, after exclaiming about "How fast those guys were running down that first hill - I slowed it way down". I had sped up there … now I knew I was in trouble.
Peter
The last uphill on the course was really steep - it had steps - I was getting tired, but was OK. But the last big downhill it felt like I was weaving, losing my balance … then I realized I was leaning to one side. At 90 miles Dean Karnazes came by and said, "Hey you know you're leaning!" He offered me a pole, but I didn't think I needed it. But then it got worse and worse until Argentiere, which was 10k out, when it got painful in my back. I considered dropping, but how can you drop at that point, if you can still walk?
At Le Lavancher, 6km from finish, I really couldn't go anymore, my back was just kililng me, it was too painfull. But there was one of those little checkpoints there. I sat down. The race people asked me if they could do anything, then someone said, "How about a ski pole?" So a townsperson went to his house and got a ski pole! I said, "How can I get this back to you?" And he said, "Just keep it". The people were extremely nice, and basically saved the race for me.
So finishing I felt a little odd … I don't feel good about finishing a race while feeling wrecked, it's not worth it, so I felt a little embarassed … but I knew it was actually OK, nothing really wrong, I just didn't look good leaning over like that. But it was good to see everyone there, and the finish line was great; zillions of people, music …
Jack
One thing I didn't expect was so many people to be cheering all the way … that was really wild. One that really blew me away was this middle age lady, all by herself, in the middle of nowhere, standing outside at 4:30 am the second morning cheering us on. She was saying, "You're super! You're super!" I should have corrected her, "No YOU'RE super!"
And I didn't expect to be crewing and pacing and racing at the same time - an experience in itself.
Race went fine for me. I had no moments of doubt or anything like that. No digestive issues. Knew I was going to be walking most of it … estimated 42-43 hours … I came in below that. Bob wanted to drop after the first climb out of Couryameur, but I said, "Look, I've felt like total shit before, thinking there's no way I'll make the next cutoff. But your body can recover and feel all fresh again." He recovered and kept going to the finish. It's amazing.
Buzz
Coming over the Grand Col Ferret, my quads were barely functioning. I could hardly run downhill. I decided to drop at the next aid station, which was a few hours ahead. A decision like this always prompts interesting philosophical/personal discourse. I had tons of time and plenty of energy, but didn't want to hike it in. I want to run. On the other hand, there's something in each of us that doesn't like the word "quit". I finally decided that was ego talking, that optimal health and experiencing joy in each moment were more important than an accomplishment.
The next big aid station was Champex in Switzerland. It had showers, beds, and instead of orange slices, they spread out virtually a full dinner … including wine. They also had a free bus to take the drop outs back to Chamonix. I got on.
AFTERWARD?
Peter
The crowd ... we don't have anything like this! And the level of support in the race was incredible. The density of course markings … sometimes you'd be running down a road and there'd be a marker every 50 yards. Very high level of organization. They use chip timing which we don't have at any trail races.
Really like going thru towns … in American trail racing, you're way out there. But here it's a whole different experience than you're used to. Climbs steeper than I expected; the profile doesn't really tell it, because there are flat sections in between, the total gain comes very steeply. Really liked the altitude being low. Would have been tough if it was raining, like usual.
Nobody talks to you on the trail. In America, you pass, you say something. A little odd, but once I got used to it, I kind of liked it; stay in your own space.
I like the no pacer rule. Feel they should just ban crews too, but most people weren't using them anyway.
Would I do it again? Probably not, but that's just me. Its expensive. I would do it again if I had some reason; I'm not a big do-it-again person. I liked coming over here not knowing anything about it, not having seen an inch of the course, not studying the profile. Can't get your best time that way, but I don't see how that matters, unless in getting your best time you win the race.
What happens is after you see what's here, and think, "Screw the race, why don't I just come over here and run?" The tram system is unreal; you can access anything very easily.
(Peter finished in 29:04:38, 86th place)
Jack
Interesting part was just being out here. Lots of people. One thing that was really cool was the lines of headlamps. Going up a hill, and you can see hundreds behind, hundreds ahead … don't get that in a race of a few hundred people. And the cheering crowds … I wouldn't come here just for that , but it's a party atmosphere. And the scenery is beautiful … too bad most of it was at night. Got it two full nights.
In terms of the race it would have been really different if the weather was rainy.
Funny to see all the cellphones. One guy smoking a cigarette - don't see that in the States.
Don't expect to go back - I like to do different races, even though this is a good one. But if people I want to travel with want to do it, I'd consider it. You have to plan way in advance - buy the ticket before you enter.
(Jack - and Bob - finished in 41:18:37, 917th place)
Buzz
Thought this was one of the best races I'd ever done. I particularly remember coming up to a lonely aid station at timberline … they had strung white christmas lights for a hundred meters going in, and going out … a surreal experience at night in the Alps.
The obvious thing is to come back with a friend or group, and run this route in 3-4 days. One would lose the amazing experience of community support and interaction, but could actually run the route, plus see it all in daylight, and enjoy staying overnight in one of the dozens of killer refuges scattered along the trail, or maybe overnight in town with a hot shower and choice of brassierie's, boulangerie's, and cafés.
In hindsight I wish I would have started much slower. Having the quads go out was no fun. But hindsight doesn't exist, except in science fiction movies, and I did what felt good. That's always worked well for me, and it sort of did again … I ran my own race, paid the consequences, and had a good time with it all.
(Buzz retired at Champex, at 20:49:37, while in 122nd place)
Finish Synopsis
- A total of 1,437 finished
- Marco Olmo of Italy and Chamonix won for the 2nd time in 21:31:58
- Nikki Kimball of Bozeman won the Women's race in 25:23:45, was 19th overall, and the first American runner period
- Topher Gaylord was 24th, first American male, in 25:46:05
- Dean Karnazes was 47th in 27:36:24
- Scott Jurek retired at Couryameur, 10:01:54, while in 14th place. Hal Korner stepped there also
- Karl Meltzer retired at Trient, 26km from the finish, at 20:12:08, while in 12th place (he was 2nd most of the race)
THE AUTHOR/RUNNERS
Peter Bakwin last year ran the "Rock Hard" - first the full Hardrock 100 mile course once within the normally allotted time, then started the regular race with the rest of the field, finishing his 2nd loop in 40 hours. He has raced the length of France, of Germany, and in 2009 plans to run across Europe. He lives in Boulder with his wife Stephanie Ehret and two cats.
Jack Jewell seems to collect the most interesting races there are - he did the Marathon des Sables in March. Peter says, "He starts slow, keeps moving at the same pace, takes pictures along the way, has a great time, finishes with a smile on his face, and can walk the next day".
Buzz Burrell is sometimes referred to as an ultrarunning "legend". This means he apparently accomplished something interesting, but it was so long ago nobody can remember what it was.
A brief talk with
CATHERINE POULET
Race Director
We started the race as a way of celebrating the re-opening of the Mont Blanc tunnel. It had been closed for two years after a bad accident when people had died, and we were looking for something to celebrate. Endurance sports were new, and we had magnificent terrain, but thought we might be crazy to expect one person - not a relay team - to complete this whole trail!
We expected maybe 300 people to come. We had 700 that first year, then 1,400, then we hit our limit. This year we filled it in 10 hours. We accept 2,200 entries for our 2,000 person limit. It would be stupid to do more than 2,000; we want to respect the image of the mountain. It might be good to do another event.
This is the 5th Ultra Tour and the 2nd year for the Couryameur (which starts at Noon and is essentially the last half of the full course).
Two people are employed for 6 months, plus our nine board members. And there are 1,200 volunteers, in all the towns, in three countries. The trails are different here; there are no huge areas like in the United States where you are really out there. One of our main goals has always been to enable everyone in all the communities to become involved.
Another important goal is semi-autonomy. Each runner must be self-sufficient between aid stations which are about 2 hours apart. (There are no pacers allowed, no crew outside the main aid stations, and everyone must carry required gear).
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