4 letters. 3 countries crossed. 1 extraordinary adventure, which is now the 100M finals of the UTMB World Series. The Ultra-Trail du Mont-Blanc UTMB is the iconic race that has taken so many passionate runners on an extraordinary journey around the Mont-Blanc. THE ULTIMATE REFERENCE IN TRAIL RUNNING Created in 2003, …
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4 letters. 3 countries crossed. 1 extraordinary adventure, which is now the 100M finals of the UTMB World Series. The Ultra-Trail du Mont-Blanc UTMB is the iconic race that has taken so many passionate runners on an extraordinary journey around the Mont-Blanc.
THE ULTIMATE REFERENCE IN TRAIL RUNNING Created in 2003, the UTMB is “the most mythical and prestigious trail running race in the world” with 171 kilometers and 10,000 meters of positive elevation gain around the Mont-Blanc through Italy, Switzerland and France. A race like no other, it transcends the sport, and has established itself as an iconic trail race, renowned worldwide.
No matter the time it takes to finish, whether done in under 20 hours or more than 46, the elite runners as well as amateur runners share the same adventure on the same exceptional course, carried by the stunning beauty of the landscapes and a common goal: to cross the finish line in Chamonix. Much more than a race, it is an introspective adventure which transforms every person that takes on the challenge.
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A top three hardest ultramarathon
After landing in Zurich, I met Cori and we took a train to Basel and picked up our rental car. The weather was beautiful and we started heading out to … MORE
After landing in Zurich, I met Cori and we took a train to Basel and picked up our rental car. The weather was beautiful and we started heading out to Chamonix.
Because I slept very little on the flight over, I was pretty tired. I usually sleep very well on planes, but this time had troubles. So, I hoped that I could get to bed early and sleep late so I go into the race well rested.
Along the way, we stopped at the city of Bern. Bern is a beautiful city, old architecture and wonderful mountain countryside. Bern means bear and they maintain a couple of bears as their “team mascots”. After an ale at their in town brewery, it was on the road again.
We headed towards Geneva. But once we hit the city of Lausanne, switched toward the east and passed through the city of Montreux, made famous by the Deep Purple song Smoke on the Water. Looking at Lake Geneva, it was really neat because the sun was setting and there was a haze over the water – kind of smoke on the water and fire in the sky.
The song was playing in my head as we drove by.
Leaving Montreux, the road turned sharply up. The drive was beautiful as we continued going higher and higher overlooking the Rhone Valley.
Then it on to. to Martigny. Once there, it was a turn to the west. Soon we crossed the French border.
Then it was a drive down towards Chamonix.
Chaminox is very beautiful. It is nestled at the base of Mont Blanc, with the mountain peak visible. There were banners for the race all around and many runners.
After that we had a quick dinner of pasta at a local restaurant. There were hundreds of runners everywhere. The atmosphere was very exciting. I decided to turn in early to catch up on my lack of sleep. By 10:00 o’clock I was out. Unfortunately, I woke again at 1:00am and could not fall asleep again. This was bad – I was going into a race where I would be running through two nights and I already had less than 4 hours of sleep combined for the previous two nights.
I ended up getting to the race expo pretty early. As I waited in line, I was amazed at the number of runners. I think the largest ultra I have done before this was American River 50. This was huge. At check in, after showing ID, I had to have my pack inspected to confirm that I had all mandatory equipment (jacket, tights/pants, hat, whistle, rain parka/blanket, two flash lights plus spare batteries, food and water supplies). Then I received my race shirt, number and chip.
The expo was very large, but made up mostly of other race organizers trying to entice runners into their events.
I popped outside and the official race gear tent was there. While having a wide selection, the prices were quite high (even before taking into account the dollar-Euro exchange). I opted to pass on any additional merchandise and headed back to start on my drop bags.
Along the way, I came across the start/finish area. It was in the center of town right next to a beautiful old church. The inside of the church was likewise old and beautiful.
As I wondered along the cobblestone streets of Chamonix, Mont Blanc loomed ahead. It was a clear day and appeared to be set for a nice race. Everywhere were runners wondering along the town streets.
I bought some water and great local bread and headed back. Once at the room I busied myself setting up my drop bags. There are only two drop bags – one at the 50 mile point in the city of Courmayeur and the other at around the 75 mile mark in Champex-Lac. In addition to my back pack, I had my waist belt that held one water bottle and my S! Caps.
Because there were just the two drop bags and I was not familiar with the course, I was kind of guessing as to what I would need at each spot. But I figured I would be hitting the 50 mile point in the day light and the 75 mile point around night time and stuffed them accordingly.
The rest of the day was filled with easy sight-seeing and relaxing. We headed over to the gym at 4:00 to drop off the drop bags and then I grabbed a quick pasta dinner at the athlete carbo feed before getting back to the hotel.
Finally, it was time to start getting into my race clothes. I was pretty nervous and still quite a bit tired. But soon we headed off to the start line. It was amazing – it was as if the town quadrupled in size during the prior few hours. The streets were packed with spectators and runners. There was music and announcements blaring from loud speakers. Helicopters buzzed around the sky and banners were flying everywhere.
The start line itself was even more amazing.2300 runners packed into the small Chaminox street in front of the church. The race was playing music that reminded me of Vaughner – it was exciting and really was working the crowd into a frenzy. The announcers kept shouting to the runners and crowds who roared back. At one point he said something in French and everyone that owned trekking/hiking poles thrust them into the air at once. I looked around – it appeared as if I was the only guy there without such poles.
Then suddenly the countdown started and we were off.
Initially it was little more than a shuffle due to the number of runners crammed into the space. Soon however it opened up and we started running through the streets. Crowds along side cheered everyone on. I was keeping a moderate pace, not quite sure how I would do just 2 weeks after Leadville 100. I stayed a steady pace and soon the roads changed to a trail along a river. The path modulated up and down and soon crossed through a camping grounds. After a short bit, we started climbing. The trail went up through a small village where crowds were clapping and cheering. Since each runners’ bid number has a flag of their nationality, quite often the crowd would cheer or say something reflective of the country. The American flag on my number seemed to surprise many spectators as the vast majority of numbers had French flags with some German, Italian, Spanish and Swiss tossed in. Every now and then I’d see an Austrian flag, Dutch flag or UK flag too.
The first climb went up La Charme which was a fairly short 800 meter climb up the hill. As we were climbing, to our left was the Mont Blanc mastiff and surrounding areas. The glacier coming down the hill was huge and there were small streams of ice melt coming off the peaks. The skies were clear but it was humid – I was sweating a lot so I kept a regular routine of popping my S!Caps.
After climbing for a bit we approached our first check point where our numbers were read. Since it was getting dark I stopped and put on my tights, Moeben arm warmers and headlamp. I also grabbed my flashlight.
Soon the climb ended and we started descending down the hill. I like downhills and have always considered that my stronger part of ultras. But my legs were still feeling a bit sore from Leadville and these downhills were quite a challenge. After some long downhills, we entered the half marathon point in Saint-Gervais.
This was a large aid station. I was amazed – not only was there the standard fruit, energy bars, drinks but tons of cheeses and cold cuts. I opted to pass on the cheese and continued on the run. The climb out of Saint-Gervais continued but my legs felt empty. So I slowed my pace and tried to climb the hill slowly, switching to a power hike. After a long time and entered Les Contamines at the 31km mark. I sat down – just not feeling too well.
After resting a bit I started on again – moving along the Notre Dame Gorge. After awhile I started to feel a little better. This climb went up and up and up and up. It made Hope Pass at Leadville seem short. But along the climb, my legs were feeling much better and I was jogging and power hiking on up.
Behind me, I could see an endless trail of lights as runners were coming up from the valley. Before the peak of Croix du Brnhomme, there was another aid station. I grabbed more cheese, some French bread, a couple pieces of dark chocolate and refilled my water bottles. Then it was off again to continue climbing into the night sky.
After an eternity of climbing, we finalized reached the top. Then it was a flat while and then dropped down. The problem here was it was very wet from snow melt and the granite and slate were slippery. I heard many runners slip and twice I went down, once knocking my flashlight out of my hand where it tumbled for at least 10 feet before another runner grabbed it. This made the descent slow, although at times it was too steep to run anyway.
The trail finally left the rocks and entered grasslands as we approached the village of Les Chapieux. There I entered the aid station and had my now standard bread, cheese, chocolate and water meal.
After leaving the aid station, I started to become quite tired. The path from this stop was a paved road that slowly climbed out of the valley towards Col de la Seigne. After climbing and climbing, we dropped down a bit on a dirt path that instantly starting climbing again. It was getting into the early morning hours but was still dark. I kept climbing, not believing how long the ascents and descents seemed to go on in this race. Finally, at one point after barely keeping my eyes open, I stopped and sat on a boulder and nodded off for about 5 minutes. Then it was climbing again.
The climb started to get cold. We were approaching 2500 meters and there were snow packs around. Plus the wind was picking up and my clothes were still damp from the sweat of the earlier climb. Thank God for my tights, Moeben arm sleeves, and my ZombieRunner Head Sweats cap. The sun was just starting to light the horizon.Finally, I got to the top of the Col. There was a check-in station. The volunteers had a fire going and I went to warm myself by it. I started chatting with the volunteers who told me there was a mountain “house” about 10 minutes down where I could pop inside to warm up.
I started down the hill and soon passed the building. The valley was wide open below me. I was going to leave without stopping but a runner came out and mentioned that it was warm. So I popped in to warm up. There was a table and a bench. One other runner was just starting to stretch out on the table for a nap. I decided that I needed one too – I set my watch timer for 30 minutes and instantly dozed off. When the alarm went off, I snoozed for 15 more minutes and then got up.
I felt great! My legs were totally re energized. I was not sleepy at all. I exited the building and started down the trail. I had lost 45 minutes, but I had saved my race. I was feeling so good I was passing people left and right. Soon the sun broke out and I had to peel off all my cold weather clothes and stuff them into my bag.
The bottom of the descent entered a small aid station at the 65km point. I grabbed my food and headed out, running along a rare flat section. The mountains rose on each side of me as I jogged past a mountain stream that became a river.
Soon the path turned sharply left and straight up. As I entered I heard another American voice – the first I had heard in the race. His name was Bogie. We chatted a bit – this was his first 100 miler ever. He mentioned that his knee wasn’t feeling good and soon we became separated. Then a few minutes later I saw my friend Nattu. We too chatted for awhile, but he also wasn’t feeling great and we got separated going up the climb. I then came upon yet another American and we climbed together for awhile comparing Leadville notes (he had paced a runner there 2 weeks earlier). At the top of this climb, called Arete du Mont Favre, I let the volunteers record my numbers and then took off flying down the hills.
My legs were still feeling good and I took advantage of this. I was passing through a valley with the Glaciers in full view to my left. The rock formations were awesome and the mountains beautiful.
Soon, the trail started to drop and we entered a ski area called Col Checrouit at 73 km. It was kind of surreal grabbing my cheese and bread in the shadow of the glaciers and Mont Blanc while two volunteers dressed as belly dancers performed next to the runners.
The next 5km were unbelievable. It was almost straight down. The city of Courmayeur (our first drop bag site) came into site. But it looked like a parachute jump to get down to it. The trail became a wide gravel road. The gravel was so loose and the decline so steep, I felt that I was going to go down any minute. The “road” turned out to be a ski run heading down towards the village. I love descents – but this was a freakin free fall.
Finally, after what seemed to be forever, the paths stopped and I entered the outskirts of Courmayeur. I didn’t realize it at the time, but this was now my first visit to my paternal ancestors’ homeland – I had entered Italy. I passed by a small fountain and ran down cobbled stone streets until I came to the sports gymnasium. This was the 78 km point, nearly 1/3 the race was over.
I grabbed my drop bag and entered the gym. I laid down and rested for about 20 minutes and then changed out supplies in my bag, taking more day time items, leaving some wet items and replenishing my S!Caps, Gu and other fuels. Then I downed a plate of pasta that was cooked right in front of me.
I gathered my stuff, handed my bag back to a volunteer and headed out the door onto the streets of Italy.
After leaving the Courmayeur sports gymnasium, I started jogging up the city streets. They soon turned up a small country road. Now it was starting to get quite warm – I am guessing it was well into the high ’80’s. It was nice as often I would pass an old fountain with flowing water from the Italian Alps. I would soak my bandanna and head sweats rag into it to stay cool.
After a short while, the road ended at a path that looped around a waterfall before starting to climb up.
On the way up, I met the same runner from Denver that I ran with going up Arete du Mont Favre. We chatted for a bit and commented how hot and tough it had become. Then he asked me if I knew what the next cut off time was.
@#$^*! This whole race I had forgotten about the cut-off times. Now I was worried. I started trying to climb faster (I did not know the cut off times) and soon passed some runners. The view of Courmeur from the high trail was beautiful. But it still went up and it seemed to be getting hotter.
I was really sweating with it pouring off my face and back. Thankfully the S!Caps were working great as I had no nausea. Near the top of the climb I looked down at the valley below – wow, we sure had climbed a lot of the Italian mountain. At the top was a small aid station. I re-filled my bottles and took off. The trail was a rolling trail for sometime. Many Italians and French hikers/trekkers passed by in the opposite direction. Occasionally I would run past a group of locals out having a picnic or sunbathing on the mountain side. I could only imagine what it would be like to have this part of nature as my backyard.
I entered two small aid stations between the 82 and 90km marks. They were merely small mountain cottages with fountains fed from the Alps. The ice cold mountain water felt and tasted great. I left the second one (called Refuge Bonatti) and started a long decline towards the 94km mark. The decline wasn’t terribly steep but it was hard on my legs as I was running out of steam and it was still getting hotter. I would stop and soak my headwrap and bandanna in each ice cold mountain stream I crossed.
Finally, after what seemed to be a non-ending descent I arrived at Arnuva the 94km point. This was a decent sized aid station in Italy. It was quite warm and in fact a runner collapsed there from the heat causing Italian paramedics to rush in and help him. I again had my standard bread and cheese, chocolate and water. I also downed a bit of flat coke here. As I sat there looking at the map with my legs feeling quite dead, I thought for about the 100th time that doing MontBlanc 2 weeks after Leadville was probably not my wisest decision.
Finally, I stood up and headed out. On the horizon was Grand Col Ferret at 2537 meters high the highest point of the race. I really doubted if my legs could get me up the climb. The trail seemed to just keep going with runners becoming smaller and smaller until mere dots in the high distance.
But the fear of cut-offs kicked in and up I went. I tried doing a power hike, just moving forward one step at a time. After awhile it seemed that my breathing calmed a bit and I was actually making steady progress. Soon, I was actually passing people. Bit by bit I progressed towards the summit, the valley fading far below me.
Finally, I reached the top of the climb after a series of switchbacks. At the top I was checked in and asked if I was OK. I actually was. There was a O2 tent set up for runners who needed it. I snapped a few photos of the mountain and valleys of Italy from the Col at about the 100km point and then headed down the trail.
The trail down from the Grand Col Ferret was long and usually gentle. I ended up running with a runner from Germany and we chatted quite a bit. It was nice as we kept going forward. The weather cooled a bit and this part of the run was really nice as we kept a nice pace down along the valleys, and descended to La Poule at 102 km (merely a small table with volunteers).
As we rounded a corner I heard a lot of cowbells. Throughout most of the race, crowds and volunteers would ring cowbells to cheer on the runners. I figured it must be an aid station or town getting close as there were a lot of bells. I turned the corner and looked at the source – a large heard of cows heading to the dairy. Their bells were loud and encouraging, even though I don’t think they cared a lot about these crazy runners passing by.
I continued the run along what became a single track trail. Often the path became wet and muddy and required some careful stepping. The trail went down steeper and entered the town of La Fouly. Here I went to the aid station which had a bit of a small town carnival atmosphere as families were out and there was a side area selling food (including raclette!) and beer and wine. I refilled my water bottles and once again had my famous meal of bread, cheese, chocolate and water.
The weather was starting to get a little dark so I opted to put on my tights, Moeben sleeves, headsweat and headlamp.
I left the station and dropped down to the trail. Here the trail started out as quite rocky but I picked my way through actually maintaining a nice pace. After awhile I needed to turn on my head lamp and continue the run. Soon it became dark. Here, my body just started to shut down. I could not keep my eyes open and literally would fall asleep on my feet for a split seconds at the time, each time waking up as I staggered a step to the side.
Finally, I hit a point where a young couple were volunteering at the start of a dirt trail. They had a bonfire going and I asked if I could sit. I closed my eyes and instantly slept for about 10 minutes. When I woke up – I felt completely refreshed. I started running again and soon caught up with a group of about 9 people who must have passed me while I rested. I fell into their pace and we formed almost a pace line as we picked our way through the trail. No one spoke English, but we were for the most part quiet as we made steady progress.
Finally, the trail ended and we came upon a street. Arrows on the street pointed the way to a small town ahead. We went into the town and came to Praz de Fort, a small village. As I entered one section, there was a house with 3 older ladies sitting outside. They had set up their own table with cups of water and bottles of beer and wine for the runners. I started to pass but glanced at their lawn.
Cori and I have been working on our garden and we found a couple of old garden gnomes that we stuck in for fun. Since then, the gnome family has increased to about half a dozen. When I saw this gnome covered lawn – I just had to snap a photo.
I continued to run and the road left the town and soon connected to a trail that went up. And up. And up. I was feeling pretty good and passed about a dozen people on the way up. Finally, we entered the town of Champex-Luc on the Italy-Switzerland border. This was the 123 km point and the second (and last) of the drop bag stops.
I entered the large tent. There I found my drop bag and switched into some drier and warmer clothing, replaced my batteries with fresh ones and downed my standard meal. I also pulled out a miso soup mix packet from my bag and downed it – the hot broth tasted great.
I then decided to head on out. The town, as the name implies, lies along the shore of a small lake. Soon the path left the lake and dropped down a wide rocky road. The road dropped into a valley but then started to climb out. This began the climb up Bovine. Right where it started to climb I met an older French runner. He and I started talking as we climbed up. The trail seemed to cross through some dairy land and then enter a very very rocky section.
It was quite steep and at times there appeared to be no trail at all. As we struggled up, the man mentioned that later “This trail gets hard.”! I almost laughed – here we were, in the dark, on a steep mountain climb, picking our way up towards this river crossing among large boulders….and later it will get hard.
At the river crossing, it did in fact get tougher. The rocks made progress slow and it was very steep. Eventually though, we reached the top (by this time we had caught two other runners). Then we continued along the Bovine Ridge, lights from the villages in the valley far below were visible.
At one point we entered an aid station. I put on my gloves and another layer as I was quite cold. I was happy to learn that this station had vegetarian broth so I downed a couple cups. Then we were off again. We went through a cattle gate and then the trail started to drop – steeply and fast. It was at times very hard to run or even walk. This descent seemed to go on and on. While it was only 6km from the peak to the aid station at Trient, it seemed to last forever. My legs were feeling very sore and tired from the constant downhill with frequent breaking to stop from falling or going too fast.
Finally, we entered the town of Trient. It was this nice little Swiss village. We were directed along the old streets to the rest stop. There I grabbed my standard fare and sat down. I happened to sit next to two British runners. She was still going on, but he had decided to call it a day there.
After resting, I grabbed my stuff and headed out the door. The next climb was to the summit of Catogne. Once again, I started my power hiking and was soon passing people. This climb (like every other climb in this perversely difficult race) seemed to go on forever, through constant switch backs and inclines. Near the top at the 143km point, I finally was able to stop for a breather. What followed was a 6km descent that lost nearly 850 meters down to the village of Vallorcine.
Along the way, the sun starting rising. I had finished my second night of running (if you could call it that). My legs were really tired and I dreaded the downhill. But I was really worried about the cut-off so I pressed on. Once again, the constant and relentless downhill switchbacks continued but eventually I entered a large tent in Vallorcine.
There I paused just long enough to refill my bottles, grab some bread, cheese and chocolate and then head on out. I was on my way to final climb (technically a series of climbs with one heck of one).
I started towards the Col des Montets, a short incline. This was the 152 km point. There was a small crowd there and the trail crossed a road to the base of what looked like a pure vertical climb. This was the final challenging ascent – about 3 miles straight up to the peak of Tete aux Vents. I started climbing, dreading this. But as I went up I began talking with a French runner. He had lived in the states about 3 years ago and we talked about various races such as Leadville and Badwater. This made the ascent easier and I was doing a nice pace. After making it up about a third of the way, I decided to slow my pace a bit.
The view from this climb was amazing as the valley floor faded away below. Once I got about 2/3 of the way up though it became more difficult. My breathing was uneven and I was not having a good time. Other runners were passing me (it seemed as if there would be no runners left behind me) but I didn’t really care. I just was pushing myself forward.
Finally, I reached the top and there waiting was a French goat – staring at the runners. He probably thought we were all nuts (I had to agree with him at that moment).
I was glad to have reached the top and started running a path along the crest of the mountain. Far down below, somewhere, was Chamonix. As I rounded a corner I saw, yet another climb. It was short but it was still a climb. This was La Flegere at the 160km point. I checked in there and headed back out.
Now the descent started. It was only 6km from this point to the finish line, but it appeared to go on forever. After passing through this final point, the trail became a long series of steep switch backs. My legs and ankles were crying out in exhaustion and pain. I tried to power hike it down (running was out of the question).
Soon I met up with an older French runner named Jean Marc. We tried to speak but his English was as good as my French so that went nowhere. But we stayed together. As we approached the town limits, we came across another French runner who spoke a bit of English. The 3 of us decided to run in together.
As we rounded the final corner, 166km (103 miles) behind us, we joined hands and raised them in the air. We crossed the line together. I was glad – because at that moment I really wasn’t sure I had any desire to try that course again….maybe after I rested a bit, but not then.
Overall, with 31,000 feet of climbing, this course was very hard (especially on the heels of Leadville). At times I found the isolation caused by not being able to communicate or even share a joke with fellow runners made it even harder. It did appear that those trekking poles really helped and if I were to do this again, I might consider training on them. While the mountains were never at high altitudes, the constant, relentless and at times perversely steep inclines and declines made this very challenging. But, the scenery was beautiful.