Trail Run Mag nº 10

VOL02.ED10 // spring 2013 // AU/NZ

Ruby Muir // Lyndon Marceau // Big Red Run // Mongolia // The Down // War Zone // Manaslu // Viedert’s law // Reviews // Trail Porn // Trail guides

DRYING IN MOTION

THE NEW STANDARD IN SWEAT REMOVAL AND TEMPERATURE REGULATION FlashDry molecular drying technology acts like your second skin, pushing moisture to the surface of the fabric and eliminating it. During high-endurance activities, FlashDry works with your body to keep you dry, cool and focused.

Find out more about FlashDry THENORTHFACE.COM.AU For stockists info, visit us online or call PH: 02 8306 3311

ANDREW LEE GETS ONE LAST RUN IN BEFORE THE NORTH FACE 100 IN BLUE MOUNTAINS NATIONAL PARK. PHOTO: MARK WATSON BETTER THAN NAKED CREW AND SHORTS, AND ULTRA GUIDE SHOES.

DEtails

Volume 2, Edition 10, Spring 2013

Editorial Australia Editor: Chris Ord New Zealand Editor: Vicki Woolley Asia Editor: Rachel Jacqueline Minimalist/Barefoot Editor: Garry Dagg Roving Editor: Mal Law Sub-Editing: Simon Madden Design Jordan Cole Craft-Store.net Contributing Writers Richard Bowles, Jeremiah Smith, Duncan Reid, Garry Dagg, Derek Morrison, Steven Brydon, Shaun Brewster, Dr Joan Steidinger, Adrian Bortignon, Paul Day Photography Lyndon Marceau, Nic Tinworth, Jessica Parker, Jason Malouin, Jeremiah Smith, Lloyd Belcher Visuals, Jordan Cole, Derek Morrison, Blak Spittle, Mark Watson / Incite Images, Tegyn Angel, Shaun Collins / Cabbage Tree Photography, George Chong, Richard Bull, Simon Madden

cover photo

Visit us online

Lyndon Marceau Photography / www.marceauphotography.com. On a shoot for Craft in the Blue Mountains, New South Wales, Australia.

www.trailrunmag.com

Trail Run is published quarterly Winter / Spring / Summer / Autumn

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Foundation supporters (the

Editorial correspondence Trail Run Magazine 10 Evans Street, Anglesea, Vic 3230 Email: chris@trailrunmag.com

Yay-sayers)

Running Wild nz www.runningwildnz.com Trail Running Company www.trailrunningcompany.com Mainpeak www.mainpeak.com.au

Telephone +61 (0) 430376621

Salomon au www.salomon.com/au

Founders Chris Ord + Stuart Gibson + Mal Law + Peter & Heidi Hibberd

Sea To Summit www.seatosummit.com Brooks / Texas Peak www.brooksrunning.com.

Publisher Adventure Types 203 Langridge Street Abbotsford, Vic 3067

Disclaimer

Trail running and other activities described in this magazine can carry significant risk of injury or death. Especially if you are unfit. Undertake any trail running or other outdoors activity only with proper instruction, supervision, equipment and training. The publisher and its servants and agents have taken all reasonable care to ensure the accuracy of the information contained in this publication and the expertise of its writers. Any reader attempting any of the activities described in this publication does so at their own risk. Neither the publisher nor any of its servants or agents will be held liable for any loss or injury or damage resulting from any attempt to perform any of the activities described in this publication, nor be responsible for any person/s becoming lost when following any of the guides or maps contained herewith. All descriptive and visual directions are a general guide only and not to be used as a sole source of information for navigation. Happy trails.

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conTents 8

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REGULARS 8.Editors

DESIGNED FOR FREEDOM

Volume 2, Edition 10, Spring 2013

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Go there, faster. Everything we make is designed to enable greater freedom of movement in the mountains.

The result is lightweight, ergonomic gear of the most liberated outdoor experiences.

See more at www.salomon.com/au For your nearest stockist, free call 1800 651 872

Columns:

8. Australia - Chris Ord 10.New Zealand - Vicki Woolley 12. Asia - Rachel Jacqueline 102. Rich’s Rant Richard Bowles gets angry

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TRAIL GUIDES 122. Routeburn, Sth Island, New Zealand 124. Yarra Bend, Victoria Australia 126. Rainbow Mountain, Nth Island, New Zealand 128. Skyline, Dunedin, Sth Island, New Zealand

TRAIL MIX 20.

Event Preview

22.

Event Preview

24.

Event Preview

26.

Event Preview

INTERVIEWS 30.Colour

of Ruby

an insight into Ruby Muir

40.The

Moment

trail snapper Lyndon Marceau

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Kawerau King, Nth Island, New Zealand Hong Kong MSIG50 series,China Buffalo Stampede, Victoria, Australia Big O, New Zealand

110.

Trail Porn

so dirty, it’ll blow your mind

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FEATURES 50. Big Red Heart overcoming odds in the Simpson Desert 60. Mongolian Multiday Magic in the footsteps of Khan 72. Black Dog Days what is it with the downer after an ultra?

80. Beyond the Wire thought your run was tough? Try Afghanistan…

88. Manaslu Madness getting’ singletrack high in the Himalayas

REVIEWS 16.

Now’s a good time to buy… all the good gear

106.

Shoe reviews

98.

a pearler and one we fell in love with

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Rhythms of the Trail a German physicist unlocks the secret of trail running

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Chris Ord // Australian Editor

The man prowls around the desert fire, beating his chest.

“It’s in here,” he thumps fist to heart hard enough that you can hear the thud from the back row.

The calling 8

“You gotta have it in here (thump).

You gotta want it like nothing else (thump). No excuses (thud). If it’s in here (thud), nothing can stop you (glare).”

The man, shorter in stature but larger in life than you could imagine, pauses for practiced dramatic effect, circling his stare around the gathering. He has each and every one of us captured in his story net and he knows it.

The glint in his eye is magnified by the light of the soaring cratefire flame. He has held us enthralled by tales of a running life that no one could make up. But rather than intimidate with boasts of superhuman feats, he has used his life spent putting one foot in front of the other a million times over – and then some – as the fuel to make us all feel invincible.

His injection of inspiration is timely because tomorrow is marathon number three in three days. And out there, beyond the halo of fire light, awaits the Simpson Desert and a running course that will beat, scratch, bake and curtail that invincibility to within an inch of its being, to within one more desert thorn sting of quitting the Big Red Run, an inaugural 250km adventure run odyssey through the Australian Outback.

The choice of Pat Farmer, the campfire pacer, as event ambassador was smart. Sure, he’d bring some promotional attention, some credibility – he is one of the world’s most accomplished ultra adventure runners after all, his pinnacle feat after decades crammed

with them, being to run from the North to the South Pole.

But his credentials for this event run closer to the fencewire than that. Pat holds the record for being the fastest man to run across the Simpson Desert, a record he captured twice. Beating his own record for number two.

That’s Pat all over. A hard man. Who better to come and chaperone nearly sixty runners to run through the territory of which he is running king?

But it is less so the feats of endurance that impress so deeply. Not once you’ve met the man. It’s his presence as a person brimming with raw passion and hard earned experience, both of which he’s willing to share.

But this is no hagiography. Rather it’s paying respect to one of our trail elders and the importance of listening. Yet Pat’s story begins with one older than himself.

A young mechanic standing in a workshop in western Sydney, he watched as an old man ran past the tin shed door. Pat couldn’t believe a grandfather (although technically at that point this guy was no grandfather) was out there running. He looked at the spanner in his hand and then listened to the clomp of a potato farmer’s boots fading into the distance down the road.

It was Cliff Young.

For Pat, it was a calling and he heeded it.

Eventually he would run much further than Cliffy could or would have dreamed about.

The point: Pat looked to his elders, listened to the message of moment,

and ran with it. Literally.

The day following Pat’s fireside speech in the Simpson desert, every runner trotting the sand took Pat’s message (and so Cliffy’s by osmosis), and ran with it.

One competitor, a 100kg-plus TonganAustralian called Mark Moala, heeded the message to knock over more personal firsts than anyone would think possible in one week: first half marathon, first marathon, first back to back marathon, first triple marathon in three days, first double marathon in one day, first multiday, first desert run. Not bad for a bloke whose only running of any note prior had been a dash on a rugby field chasing a patch of leather. He had all the excuses in the world to call on if he wanted to stop: not a runner, not enough training, overweight, bad knees… yet he leaned on none.

On the final day, as Mark reached the finish line that many thought he’d never step across, Pat approached, hugged him and paid tribute: “You’re my hero mate.”

A man who ran from Sydney to Melbourne runs past a mechanic’s workshop. A man in that workshop runs from the North Pole to the South. A man listens to that story and runs six marathons across a desert.

One day, Mark Moala will run past another someone … and I wonder: where will the inspiration take them?

Your inspired editor, Chris Ord chris@trailrunmag.com 9

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NEW Zealand // Vickie Woolley

PHOTOGRAPHY: Tourism New Zealand

What a victory! The NZ Government has announced that it has declined the Routeburn Tunnel application after a relentless campaign from outraged Kiwis.

Sound victory

For those of you who have no idea what I’m talking about, let me sum up a long story. Milford Sound is one of NZ’s best-known attractions, a place where jacketed tourists get soaked under waterfalls and forested peaks rise dramatically out of the deep black waters of the fjord (and yep, you can run there).

The Sound is accessed by road from Queenstown: a stunning 3.5hr drive down the eastern side of Lake Wakatipu, west to Te Anau and north to Milford. The drive is long and slow, and tourists don’t like it – especially the ones ‘doing’ NZ in three days – it messes with their schedules. So in 2006 Milford Dart Ltd came up with what they thought was a deadly plan: how ’bout we send people up to Glenorchy, whack a great big hole in the Humboldt Mountains from the start of the Routeburn Track through to the Hollyford Valley, and voila: foreign visitors can ‘do’ Queenstown, the Lake AND the Sound in a comfortable daytrip!! Why not!! they said.

WHY NOT?! Cos it’s a NATIONAL freakin’ PARK and a World Heritage area, that’s WHY NOT!!! And the last time I checked, that

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meant it doesn’t belong to the government – and it sure as hell doesn’t belong to the tourists – it belongs to US as a NATION. In January this year I ran the 32km Routeburn track. Early in the morning on the flats just out of the car park I spooked two sleeping hinds. I was the first person over the Harris Saddle, leaving tracks in the fresh snow.

Winding around the southern side of the pass with spectacular views of the Darran and Ailsa Mountains, my ears were filled with the sound of wind rushing over the craggy peaks towering over me, the cry of hawks in the valley below. My ears were NOT filled with the roar of coach engines thundering out of a tunnel beneath me belching blue smoke and carcinogens. Not a digger in sight – in fact, there were no signs of civilisation. Ahhhhhhh.

Kiwis protested. Kiwis wrote letters, signed petitions, lobbied Parliament, tied themselves to things and generally made a fuss... and our government sensibly relented, as votemaximising governments do. For now.

But let’s remain vigilant. Had the tunnel gone ahead, can you imagine what a horrifying precedent that would have set for NZ? What next? The RTM Drive: “View every aspect of Ruapehu from the comfort and safety of your own vehicle”? Imagine struggling to the top

of Kaweka J to find a kiosk selling souvenir t-shirts: “I Hiked Up This Mountain But At Least I Could Buy A COKE(TM) At The Top”?

And hey – why stop with little ol’ NZ – with a few ‘improvements’ my neighbour and his wife can nip up Everest during their summer holidays.

The drive to Milford IS windy, rugged and torturous. But isn’t that the point – the journey makes the destination? Seems there is a desire within the modern world to dispense with the ‘effort’ part of the Effort=Reward equation. With trail running, the journey IS the destination: every run is a battle waged over environment, weather, terrain, biology, physiology, schedule and natural lassitude. It feels so intuitive... the harder the work, the greater the reward.

How can aspirations be born without nailbiting tales of courage, daring and sacrifice from those who have triumphed or failed before? What do heroes look like without epic adventures to shape them into people we want to emulate? Bring on the hard work. Bring on the hill – I, for one, want to feel like I’ve worked for the view.

Your chuffed but ever vigilant editor, Vicki Woolley.

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ASIA // RACHEL JACQUELINE

PHOTOGRAPHY: Nic Tinworth / www.nictinworth.com

I’ve been thinking a lot about the Whys. Why do we run?

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In some ways the answer is obvious. The unparalleled beauty of the single track painted against a mountainous backdrop; the personal inspiration achieved after conquering one’s demons; the release of running along vast landscapes and the joy of sharing the experience with friends.

But then sometimes, let’s be honest, running can really suck.

Exhaustion, injury, suffering and ultra running are heavily entwined.

After 22-and-ap-half-hours battling it out with a partially defunct team during the Oxfam Trailwalker last year, I was so exhausted I passed out in the homebound taxi.

Literally I was out for the count. On a brief stop to change taxis, I lay down in the dirty grime of Hong Kong’s gutters and refused to move. Everything hurt. I felt more pain than I’ve ever felt in my life – and I’ve sewn my finger in a sewing machine.

After walking four flights of stairs to my apartment – a brutal end to an exceptionally long day that already had 4500 metres of elevation gain – I lay on my couch and remained there for the rest of the day. I was too tired to eat, too tired to move. I cried.

A lot.

At The North Face 50 in the Blue Mountains, after zooming past the 20km mark in subtwo hours feeling like I had jet burners on my back, my right IT band gave up on me. Bugger.

Every step on my right foot sent shooting pains through my leg. I compensated by leading with my left. Then the cramps set in, forcing me to shorten my stride to a hobble. Runner after runner glided effortlessly past, my ego bruising further with each.

In general, there are aching muscles on the

countless ascents. Add heat and humidity to the mix and the experience can be unbearable.

Then throw in the dreaded chafe-bombs. After Trailwalker I had such crazy chaffing as I never thought possible. I won’t go into details, but lets just say it wasn’t pretty woman.

So when Hong Kong’s stinking, humid heat set in for our summer, I was happy to take a break. I switched the trails for a cross-fit type program and swore off running for three months.

It’s safe to say, while gawking at my growing biceps, I began thinking a lot about the Whys.

Before I had time to find the answers, they found me.

The joy of running is exactly that – it’s a joy. And when you don’t have it in your life, I believe life is less joy-full. Over those three months I became crabbier, crankier and less settled. I knew something was missing but couldn’t put my finger on it. Until I went for my first post-break long run. It went a little something like this: Running buddy and I ran straight up The Peak. 1.6 kilometres at 20-30% incline. I felt good. We kept running uphill. Even better.

Then we hit the trails and I started to feel brilliant. We turned off our headlamps and Hong Kong’s dazzling skyline twinkled around us. I felt happiness. As I bounded along an hour into the run, I felt so grateful for my limbs and their ability to propel me through space and time. I felt I could go on forever. It was one of those moments. I felt happy to be

alive. I felt grateful for the people in my life.

I felt euphoric.

Then we started on the last four kilometres.

My old injuries began to hurt. I ran out of water. I was hungry. I wanted to stop, but running buddy ran on. I saw a cute puppy, and welcomed the distraction, drawing to a halt.

Running buddy yelled and I battled the last few steps finally making it to the finish of our run – salt encrusted, yet insanely satisfied.

That’s when I realised what I had really been missing in those last three months was the ability to feel appreciation at its most raw.

That’s where I believe true joys lie - not just in the greatest highs but also in the great of lows, right there in the thick of suckiness.

I realised I run to suffer. I run to prevail over the pain, to learn the patience I was never born with. To feel intense feelings of gratitude over the broadest spectrum of people, places and things. I run to be more resilient. I run to be a better person.

Running represents a microcosm of life.

Life is not always easy. Battling in a run and overcoming the challenges along the way — having that bit of self-induced suffering —prepares me to deal with life’s unplanned sufferings. It’s where I learn to make lemonade out of life’s lemons. It’s where I feel my happiest.

That’s my Why. What’s yours?

Your re-sated Asia editor, Rachel Jacqueline 13

IMAGE: Hannisze Yong

Run through an ancient land in the footsteps of prophets, kings and legends.

At the heart of adventure running are the vivid landscapes through which you journey. At the heart of Oman are those grand landscapes that call out to the heart of any adventurous soul; landscapes best experienced on foot.

Run the epic Empty Quarter dunes, which offer staggering heights and raw beauty – a real challenge for runners. Traverse

the sands and wade through oases to experience the solitude and immensity of one of the world’s greatest deserts. Camp under a canopy of stars and delight in the sheer silence of the desert night. Or head high to be spellbound by the sheer drama of the Al Hajar Mountains, rising to more than 3000 metres, a place where single track trails link ancient villages, where runners are welcomed by the warmth

Beauty has an address ~ Oman www.tourismoman.com.au | Phone: +61 2 9286 8930 | info@tourismoman.com.au

of Omani hospitality and a rich cultural heritage dating back centuries.

When not on trail, visit ancient forts, castles and souks containing hidden treasures and refuel with the gastronomic delights of the Old Arabia. Discover where ‘Beauty Has an Address ~ Oman’, and create your own running adventure of a lifetime.

Looking for adventure run events in Oman? Try one of these: Oman Desert marathOn November 2013 165km, multiday www.marathonoman.com

Desert Oman raiD November 2013 195km, multiday www.raidsahara.com

trans Omania January 2014 300km/270km/130km non stop ultras www.raidsahara.com

Visit SidetripofaLifetime.com.au

now’s a good time to buy

Maui Jim Hot Sands Sunglasses I’m always undecided when it comes to sunglasses: I trip over a lot, they fall a lot, not to mention I have a habit of losing them; so I have in the past tended towards cheap, disposable types models. Maui Jim’s are decidedly not a pair you want to leave laying around at nearing $210. They’re too good. Rimless sports-style (not my usual style, but neither is wearing tights and I do that on trail on cold days), they sit comfortably on the nose and give great glare coverage. Pertinent to the ‘falling off face’ problem are arm grips with rubber inserts

which keep them rigidly in place no matter how much you bounce down that mountain. I found the inward pressure of the arms a little tight, however. But where these glasses shine is in keeping out the shine, while maintaining visual integrity. You can choose your lens according to use, but the polarized lenses wipe out 99.9% of glare and 100% of harmful UV while still giving crisp vision of the contours and undulations ahead (so you shouldn’t trip as much anyway).

And if you do hit the deck… these are actually pretty hardy glasses although ‘scratch resistant’

Katadyn MyBottle Water Purifier Okay, so this isn’t a bit of kit for your regular trail run or ultra event dotted with checkpoints manned by volunteers wielding every type of electrolyte solution known to man, safely mixed with tap or bottled water.

But sometimes you’re running without such luxury backup. Many multiday adventure runs have you passing through remote territories and foreign cultures where the water supply is not your friend. In fact, given dehydration is a risk just from the activity itself, a shot of the squirts can kill you. Ergo, do what you can to avoid it.

This Katadyn water purifier bottle is a great answer if you don’t want to go the pill (iodine) option. The bottle fits most backpack water slots, side or front strap. It’s not as heavy as you’d think (but not as light as you’d like: 260g) and with the filter in it, only holds 560ml. But if your run passes through villages where regular fills are possible – like Global Limit’s Bhutan or Cambodia multidays – this is perfect.

A fiberglass prefilter removes bacteria and protozoa like giardia and amoeba as well as particles larger than 0.3 microns. Next, a three-layer Virupur filter absorbs viruses and the smallest particles, then the water passes through a carbon filter to eliminate odors and improves the taste of the water. The cartridge can filter up to 100 litres – enough to cover any multiday mission. The flip mouthpiece can be used with one hand, meaning it’s fine for drinking on the run.

VITALS MyBottle Purifier inc.

95 Virupur Cartridge $89. RRP AU Virupur Replacement Cartridge:

$59.95 RRP AU

Stocked at Paddy Pallin stores andavailable online at www.paddypallin.com.au For more information on Katadyn www.outdooragencies.com.au 16

– the claim of nearly every glass on the market – is a stretch: they all get scratched sooner or later, and indeed these did too after a few bush blunders and the odd car floor shuffle. Still, a great sunglass for trail running: lightweight, comfortable and good at dealing with contrast.

VITALS

$208.95 RRP AU www.mauijim.com

MARMOT ETHER DRICLIME If you’re a trail runner who wonders why you bother packing a windbreaking jacket, as wearing it invariably creates a hothouse effect perfect for growing orchids, keep reading this review.

We may have found the perfect jacket.

We tested the water resistant (not water-proof) Marmot Ether DriClime running up Mt Donna Buang in the snow and speed hiking up the Italian side of Col Du Ferret at 5am on a bitterly cold morning – both perfect testing conditions dishing out cutting winds and demanding a high-intensity effort. Conditions perfect for creating a cold, wet and miserable trail runner.

Not in this case…

The Ether DriClime wicking lining, to our surprise, actually works. After both tests, my technical base layer and the jacket’s lining remained dry. No dampness whatsoever. The attribute ‘breathable’ is often used too liberally in our experience.

It this case, its use is justified. The Ether DriClime can breathe and breathe well.

Attention to detail was clearly a high priority when designing the Ether.

The clever elastic cuffs help keep the breeze out and the tester comfortable.

Marmot’s ‘Angel-Wing Movement’ technology used in the underarm panels allows full arm movement without causing the jacket to ride-up, which can be an almighty pain in the backside when wearing a hydration pack.

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The Ether’s got a hoody ready to pull on if your Buff or beanie ain’t enough and the often overlooked, but incredibly useful chest pocket is big enough to stash some food or the jacket itself for when you need it compact to squeeze into your kit pack.

The shell material is super-light but appears a little delicate. We suggest caution if you’re a carefree trailite that doesn’t mind shouldering the vegetation either side of the single-track. Be that as it may, the tester completed an involuntary triple somersault dive descending Mt Donna, at pace, taking the brunt of the fall on the right forearm. The Ether survived the incident unscathed.

The fit of the Ether is athletic without being tight or restrictive. If your upper limbs are longer than usual you’ll like the extra length in the Ether’s arms. Perfect for trail running apes.

Weighing in at 250g, the Ether DriClime just might be the light, 3-season soft-shell you’re looking for to keep your highlands warm and dry in difficult conditions.

VITALS

$159.

95

RRP AU

marmot.com/products/ether_driclime For local distribution see: www.allsports.co.nz/

now’s a good time to buy

www.thenorthface.com.au

desert run special So you’re headed into the desert for a big multiday run. But what to wear? Up and coming trail star, Lucy Bartholomew, admits to not knowing, her only sand running experience a short stretch of beach in her ultra debut at the Surf Coast Century. But the Big Red Run multiday was a whole new oversized kettle of sandpit. The North Face decided to deck her out in a bit of kit. Here’s how she found it…

SHOES: ULTRA GUIDE These provided good support over loose sand and rocky gibber plains. They had awesome grip and while they seem to be a (slightly) heavier, less-minimal shoe than I am used to, they tracked well when my legs got tired and protected my feet well. Designed for neutral runners and ultra off road distances, they offered good cushioning over the uneven and often harsh terrain underfoot: deserts can be as much about hard baked surfaces as soft sand and your feet can cop a pounding. The cradle heel combined with a rocker shaped sole, sporting an 8mm heel-toe drop (beefy for me), suited my mid-foot strike. I think these would, however, suit more technical, singletrack running more so that the flatter, consistent terrain of the Simpson.

ENDURO PLUS PACK The North Face pack that I ran with was light and small, an advantage on the shorter days where there was minimal mandatory equipment required to carry.

But on the long day (85km) where you need to carry waterproofs, fleece and thermals and more water it was a super tight fit, to the point where although I tried to fill the bladder (I had put another bladder from another TNF bag in to equip me with the 2.5L mandatory water) it didn’t fill up properly and I ran out of water. The design is awesome, the way it sits like a vest and is so light, with the bottle holders on the front. For me, the clips at the front weren’t narrow enough to fit my small frame and could have done with an extra clip to stop the flapping of the vest side bits up higher.

For a multi-stage race this pack probably doesn’t quite have the capacity to hold all mandatory equipment but for shorter day-long events it would be a perfect piece of gear.

MERINO TIGHT // MERINO LONG SLEEVE ZIP The thermals provided a light, breathable layer that kept me warm pre, post and during the run. They didn’t hold sweat and were able to contain my body heat to keep me warm (yes, it can chill in the desert, especially at night). They were easy to roll up small and were soft and comfortable to wear.

$115 //$130 RRP

$170 RRP

$220 RRP

SHOES: HYPER-TRACK GUIDE

THINDER 800 DOWN JACKET

TKA 100 MICROVELOUR GLACIER TOP // 100 MICROVELOUR PANT

Yes, it gets cold in the desert, especially at night! So this made the perfect pre (if early crisp morning) and post (nightime) race wear. It scrunched up nicely into the inner pocket making it easy to pack without taking up lots of room – an important consideration when we had bag and weight limits (standard restrictions on most multidays where the logistics for organisers of carrying around everyone’s kit while they run can be hard). When it got wet it still kept warmth but took a while to dry-out, as Down Jackets do. On a multiday this is a consideration as often there’s no time to be spent being delicate with your clothing – it’s all stuff it in here, sit on the ground with it there. Race kit – even post wear kit – needs to be tough. So while this jacket was perfect for a desert multiday where days were (mostly) warm enough to dry it off, any location where it was damper and colder may be cause to go for one of TNFs synthetic down models, rather than the Goose Down. The shape and fit of the jacket was perfect for my smaller size and allowed easy movement with smaller panels.

$350 RRP

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These fleece items were so light that to carry them as part of the mandatory equipment was not a chore. They were soft and breathable against my skin and provided ample warmth – more so than you’d expect for something so light.

$80 // $90 RRP

After three days of the Ultra’s I swapped to these, which were a bunch of awesome.

They felt lighter and more minimal, which I really enjoyed. The lighter mesh upper let my foot breath more in the hotter final days and their lesser comparative grip didn’t really cause any issue in a desert setting.

Downside: on the harder gibber plains there wasn’t a lot of cushioning and the impact was greater on the feet. For runners looking for a more minimalist shoe in The North Face range, or even a crossover shoe road to trail, these could be the ticket.

BASE CAMP DUFFEL MEDIUM A bag’s a bag to me. Unless you (or the race crew charged with transporting your gear) are throwing it around like a bag of rotten spuds. Let’s face it, on a multiday, when the camp’s being moved from one location to the next, the crew aren’t exactly pussy footing around competitor’s bags. They’ll assume you haven’t packed your glasswear. The bag has to stand up to the rigours of being thrown, dropped, potentially dragged. So for my money, this style of duffel bag is perfect – robust material that is water resistant was perfect for the beating it took in the desert. Go for the larger size, the medium just a tad too small to get ALL your multiday gear in (unless you’re an uber lightweight, minimalist packer. I’m not).

$190 RRP

BETTER THAN NAKEN SPLIT SHORT Shorts: they rub or they don’t. Simple.

These didn’t. Some shorts can be a bit flappy and have material that annoys. These didn’t.

Light as a feather, they breathed well and stayed dry no matter what my sweat rate.

Most importantly, they didn’t smell after six days of running in them. Yes, six days (of course I could just be a sweet smelling human being!). $80 RRP

$190 RRP

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Chris Ord // Australian Editor Event preview edsword

THE GPS FOR EXPLORERS AND ATHLETES

PHOTOGRAPHY: Phillip Capper / WikiMedia Commons

Kawerau King

north Island New Zealand

T

he perfect volcanic ‘cone’ of Putauaki in Kawerau, New Zealand, may be pleasing to the tourist eye... but the average punter doesn’t plan on running to the summit.

Described as ‘living hell for some and a religion for others’, the 8km Kawerau King of the Mountain started in 1954 as a drunken bet between an Aussie and a Kiwi. In its colourful past, competitors have used fair means or foul, sneaky homemade tracks and secret beer caches to run, drag, haul themselves to the 852m summit and back to Firmin Field in Kawerau. Desperate not only to finish, hard bastards (and their female equivalents) fight to earn membership in the coveted Sub-60 Club.

School relays and ‘Prince and

Princess of the Mountain’ are also held in the morning, with the Grand Daddy of a climb kicking off at midday.

EVENT ‘Kawerau King of the Mountain’.

DATE 2nd November 2013, Kawerau.

ORGANISER

All you need for outdoor sports - navigation, weather conditions, speed, heart rate, altitude and features for running, biking and swimming.

Packed in a glass fiber reinforced casing with a battery life of 16/50 hours, Ambit2 is ready for any adventure.

Thousands of Suunto Apps available to add new functionalities to your watch.

Stay up to date at www.suunto.com

Kawerau Harrier Club.

WEBSITE www.kawerauharrierclub.co.nz/ mountain-race/

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Like us on facebook - www.facebook.com/SuuntoAustraliaNZ

Chris Ord // Australian Editor Event preview edsword PHOTOGRAPHY: courtesy Action Asia Events

Hong Kong MSIG50

hong kong China

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ow in its third year, the Hong Kong MSIG50 Series just keeps getting better. Last year, the single race was expanded into a three-race series, and this year event organizer, Action Asia Events, has received membership to the International Skyrunning Federation. All three of the MSIG50 series will be ISF races and are set to be goodies. With one of the biggest cash and prize pots around, runners get both goods and glory: competitors in the 50km also collect points, get ranked and get a chance to take out the overall winner. With 50 kilometre as well as a 25 kilometre options, to be raced individually, in pairs or in teams of four, there is something for everyone.

The Hong Kong race (October 27) starts on Victoria Peak and takes runners around a scenic route

around the greenery above the city. The Lantau course (December 7) on Hong Kong’s biggest island, includes sweeping coastal views, while the Sai Kung course (March 1 2014) offers some of the most gruelling terrain of the series.

Event Hong Kong MSIG50 Series Hong Kong, Lantau, Sai Kung

Date October - March

website www.actionasiaevents.com

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Helios

Event preview PHOTOGRAPHY: Chris Ord

FURTHER. FASTER.

Buffalo Stampede

Mount Buffalo victoria

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ou’ve all seen the term bandied about: Skyrunning. And you’ve seen the world’s best smash themselves up the steepest of steep mountains, towards said sky, with pained expressions on their face.

That’s because the courses are usually brutal in their ‘upness’. Now, Australia has its very own Skyrunning challenge with the launch of the new Buffalo Stampede, an outing that also represents a foundation stone in the planned Australia-New Zealand Skyrunning series.

The Stampede will take place on Victoria’s Mount Buffalo, at the gateway to the state’s high country, and will vie to join the hallowed ranks of other Skyrunning World Series events the likes of Mont Blanc Marathon in France, Speedgoat 50 in the USA and the Mount Elbrus Vertical Kilometre in Russia.

Skyrunning as a recognised discipline traces its roots back to Italian mountaineer Marino Giacometti and fellow enthusiasts who started pioneering races and records on famous European peaks like Mont Blanc in the 1990s. “[It’s] the purest form of mountain running … getting to the top of a mountain and back down again as quickly as possible,” says newly anointed President of Skyrunning

Australia/NZ, Marcus Warner. “It’s the athlete versus the mountain.

It’s not for the faint-hearted. It’s definitely a significant challenge and the athlete needs to know what they are doing.’’

“Nearly 5000m [of elevation gain] over 75km is up there with some of the best races in the world. [Elite overseas runners] are going to go away pretty sore and pretty beat up from this race.’’

So, too, will Regular Joe runners, it’s assumed.

Which is exactly the attraction, isn’t it?

SLIPSTREAM GL JACKET

BIONIC LONG SLEEVE

THE WORLD’S LIGHTEST WINDPROOF JACKET

YEAR ROUND MOUNTAIN BASE LAYER

EVENT Buffalo Stampede DATE 5-6 April 2014 WEBSITE www.buffalostampede.com.au 24

WWW.MONTANE.COM.AU SLIPSTREAM GL JACKET Montane Lakeland 100, Walna Scar pass, 5658m of ascent and 95.8 miles to the finish line LIGHTEST WINDPROOF JACKET THE WORLD’S Photography by Mark Gillet www.junglemoon.co.uk

BIONIC LONG SLEEVE

WWW.LAKELAND100.COM YEAR ROUND MOUNTAIN BASE LAYER

Event preview photograpy: Shaun Collins

BIG O, rotorua

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ant to go running?

Want to go boating? Can’t choose?? Do BOTH!!

Imagine hurtling at breakneck speed along beautifully carpeted forest trails. You burst from the trees, hell-bent on a PB at the Big O... only to find yourself nearly tumbling into Lake Okataina. Leap into a boat, speed across the Lake, jump back onto terra firma and run another 13kms to complete your Big O... Oh!!

Lactic Turkey’s race-with-adifference kicks off from new Event Headquarters at Lakes Ranch, 21st September. Dart through a taped bush crash and fly through craters on your clockwise circuit of Lake Okataina. You can even relax and enjoy the boat ride as it is cleverly deducted from your overall time!

Distances include 10km, 21km

and 35km, with run/walk options for the shorter distances. And don’t miss prize-giving Lactic Turkey style with the traditional ‘All You Can Eat Turkey’ up for grabs.

EVENT The Big O Trail Run

DATE 21st September 2013

EVENT ORGANISER Lactic Turkey Events.

WEBSITE FOR ENTRY www.lacticturkey.co.nz/ BigOTrailRun.htm 26

North Island New Zealand

Optimize your trail running techniques

FROM

* 0

$R3P6ERSON

PE RE A H S X I S

With two of the best trail runners in the world...Hanny Allston, World Orienteering Champion & Brendan Davies, current North Face 100 Champion.

Brendan Davies

Hanny Allston

Weekend 1 18 - 20 October 2013

Weekend 3 7 - 9 February 2014

Preparing to train - learn the basics of great running technique, how to prepare your training structure, nutrition for optimal training performance and recovery, and elite recovery strategies. Join World Orienteering Champion Hanny Allston and Australia’s top Ultra Runner Brendan Davies at Lake Crackenback Resort & Spa to kick start your summer of trail running on A class trails. And what would be a trail running camp without a run at night spotting wildlife.

Maximising your potential - Brendan Davies and Hanny Allston bring together a suit of World Class speakers to shed insight into the elite end of trail running performance.

Seminars include running technique for hills, speed and trails; managing fatigue; stress and its impact on performance; supplements and performance helpers & hinderers. There will be plenty of opportunity to run the trails of Lake Crackenback & the Snowy Mountains.

Weekend 2 29 November – 1 December 2013 Preparing to race - Brendan Davies and Hanny Allston will assist in optimizing your racing strategies.

Experience trail running at its finest, both at night and during the day, then enjoy motivational presentations

by Hanny & Brendan on the topics of perfecting your taper, nutrition for racing, trail running equipment, and finding mental focus. This weekend will include a seat at the Movember Sportsman’s Dinner held on the Friday 29th November where Brendan Davies amongst others will be guests - see more information.

1650 Alpine Way, Crackenback NSW P 02 6451 3000 E reservations@lakecrackenback.com.au More great package deals available at www.lakecrackenback.com.au *please scan code for more info and to book now.

inNerview

Ruby Muir

story + photograpy: Derek Morrison

the colour of ruby She’s the current darling of the Kiwi trail scene, rubberstamping her place as one of the trail community’s Talented Ones with a win in the Tarawera Ultra earlier in the year. But Ruby Muir’s path to singletrack stardom has not been one of convention.

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Ruby Muir innerview

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s we trot around the trails of her backyard training ground, the Kiwi star of endurance trail reveals her secret for speedwork: a sparring partner with horns.

“I dived head first over the fence and he slammed into the barbed wire … the whole fence shook. Yes, I saw my life flash before my eyes,” says Ruby Muir recalling the moment when she learned that she could only just outrun the bull that had taken up residence across the road.

I’ve made my way to visit 22-year-old Ruby at her home on an orchard in Eskdale, near Napier in New Zealand’s North Island. The rental she shares with partner Kristian Day – also a competitive trail runner – is a cosy weatherboard cottage with a pile of almost worn-out trail shoes on the porch, a sure sign that I have arrived at the right door. Across the road is Eskdale Mountain Bike Park – a myriad of trails well-buffed by the soles of Ruby’s feet.

A quietly spoken, almost reticent athlete, Ruby has been turning heads since she first lined up for The Goat, a 21km adventure run with 1000 metres of climbing around the western flank of Mt Ruapehu, in 2009.

“I was planning to fast track it, so I entered and won it out of the blue,” she recalls. “I thought, not only do I enjoy this, I’m quite good at it, so I’ll keep going.”

But there is more to Ruby than natural ability alone. Her upbringing on the Coromandel Peninsula offers some insight.

“We grew up active. We grew up in a house in the bush – there was no proper road to our house, we walked to it,” she shares. “We chopped wood and had wood fires so being in nature was something I loved – it felt like it was seared into me.”

Ruby started running off-road at 17 years of age driven by a “really hard time” in her life.

“My dad was diagnosed with terminal brain

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cancer. We were a really close family so that was like the end of my world at 17,” she explains through misty eyes. “My way of coping with it was to run every day. It was a way I could feel emotion when I was quite numb most of the time and a way I could have a small, positive achievement every day, when there wasn’t much else positive in my life.”

Ruby’s dad passed away two years later, at 62 years of age.

“I ran throughout that time. I ran and I worked even when he was really sick until my family felt I was never home. I was young and it was my way of dealing with it at the time,” she says.

“After my dad died – when I was quite depressed and quite low – it was the only way I could feel again. When I was running a lot I could remember him much more clearly.

I am in a more balanced state these days, but sometimes when I run I have more vivid memories of him, which I can’t connect with otherwise.”

After winning The Goat in 2009 in near record time, Ruby was approached by Athletics New Zealand. They recommended she follow up with the mountain running champs as a junior. She did, chalking up a string of results in local North Island races and in the Junior Mountain Running Champs. She then went to the Worlds in Slovenia where she finished 11th.

“I did a couple of races in Italy while I was there. One in Italy was through the Dolomites – 13km and 1000 metres of climbing in the

mountains. I was quite shy when I entered and there were 1000 people lining up and I was somewhere at the back of them. Most of the race I was just working my way through the field – I loved it. I think I placed in the top three females.”

When Ruby made the decision to move to Auckland to complete a pre-med course her running moved to the road and pavements around the city. It wasn’t long before she started to experience a series of niggling injuries – “a bit of knee pain, nothing bad”. She would stop running for a few weeks and then get back into it.

“I was doing a lot of self-treatment, which was too intense for it, so some of the swelling fluid got pushed into the ITB [Iliotibial Band] and split it,” she recalls. “I tried to get help and diagnosis … it took a year and a half before I got to the stage of knowing what was wrong and what I could do about it.”

Leading up to her surgery Ruby could barely walk and couldn’t bend her knee. She came across a surgeon who offered a simpler option to the standard and quite complex Iliotibial Band Syndrome surgery, where the band is lengthened using other tissue.

“It wasn’t radical surgery,” she explains. “It’s a tiny little thing where the surgeon cut out the corner at the back of my ITB where it runs over my knee, so it can’t touch my knee any more. He is the only surgeon in New Zealand who does it.”

Told she would not be able to run >>

I ran and I worked even when he was really sick until my family felt I was never home. I was young and it was my way of dealing ” 33

Ruby Muir innerview

“

I was quite shy when I entered and there were 1000 people lining up and I was somewhere at the back of them.

Most of the race I was just working my way through the field – I loved it.

Ruby’s Top Three NZ Trail Runs Stay off the great walks and touristy trails reckons Ruby:

1) Pinnacles, Coromandel To experience the real New Zealand do some of the rooty tracks of the Coromandel like my regular Coromandel run, which goes from the East Coast to the Pinnacles – it is not the main Pinnacle track, but a really technical and rooty trail.

2) The Kaweka Range, Hawkes Bay I love them – they are so unforgiving – it’s awesome. It’s steep – they are all steep there.

3) The Kepler Track, Fiordland I like the Kepler, although it doesn’t play to my strength. I like to take advantage of being able to run faster over technical terrain than people who are fitter than me, whereas on the Kepler it finishes on 30km of really easy, rolling, wide tracks so you’ve just got to be fit and finish it fast. It’s one of the best.

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Ruby Muir innerview

“

Her speed on descents...

“It’s my form of cheating,” she smiles. “You can beat people who are a lot fitter... bombing the descents”

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competitively again, but Ruby was having none of it.

“Recovery was a real surprise to me. Three days after surgery I could put my weight on my knee. I was told six weeks before I should try to run, but in four weeks I was cycling to work and back every day.”

Ruby returned to race the 2012 Kauri Run, crossing the 32km distance in a time of 2hr 54min for the win. She considered that a good indication of her recovery and hopeful signs for her goal: to win The Goat.

Just prior the The Goat taking place a nearby volcano, Mt Ngauruhoe, erupted violently and the event was postponed. About the same time Ruby was offered a last minute entry into The Kepler Challenge, held in Fiordland National Park, just two weeks away.

“I had been training for The Goat, which is a shorter race and a more realistic goal. The Kepler is a lot longer – 60km – so ideally you’d be doing higher weekly mileage and long runs before an event like that.”

“I didn’t have any expectations as I hadn’t trained for it. I just wanted to see how I would do. I think being injured for so long gave me time to recover. Before that I had been running quite unhealthily – I was quite obsessed with it and on a lower weight level, so having a break I came back stronger. Not as fast, but stronger.”

Ruby hadn’t raced against the South Island girls before, but expected strong competition.

She needn’t have worried, crossing the finish line in a time of 5hr 37min. Ruby was 12th overall and more than 24 minutes ahead of the second-placed female. Her debut run was just 14 minutes shy of Zelah Morrall’s 2003 record.

“Yes, I do have the record on my mind for Kepler,” she admits. “I ran it without training and got the second fastest time. Everyone said that was awesome, so I’m thinking ‘hold on, I might go back and try’,” she smiles.

Technical running has always been Ruby’s strength, something she puts down to growing 36

very hard,” she says. “There was a turn around at 30km and I wasn’t going to see anyone for another 30 or 40km. My food had been a bit late getting there, so when I got handed my gear I was low in fuel. I had a low patch for the last 20, maybe 15km – I had no food. Mentally I wasn’t low, but I was slowing down and I knew I needed to eat.”

Ruby met up with Kristian 10km out. He paced her in, the first 2km of which she dined on sandwiches, coke and chocolate bars.

“Those 2km took quite some time,” she grins, but adds that her darkest moments actually came in the first 5km.

“That’s when you’re running very hard and you’re thinking, ‘Why the hell am I doing this?’, but I always know that will go after 10km and at the end of the race when I am hurting I just turn my music up and think about that.”

Music has always played a big part in Ruby’s running: it dictates her attitude on trail.

“Often, on a long race I will have my headphones with me, but I won’t play music all the time so it can be a pick-me-up when needed, or at the end, like a treat,” she laughs.

“Keep running and you can have the music for 10 minutes. I can tell when I am really tired and down, cause I’m just flicking through my songs and hating everything.”

Ruby listens to a wide variety of music from heavy metal to Mumford and Sons and Nick Cave.

“If I want to run fast, or race downhill, or I want to catch someone, then I listen to heavy metal,” she explains. “I go through phases – there are times I am sick of my music and I just like listening to the world and my breathing, but at the moment every single run I do is with my headphones and I almost don’t want to go for a run if my iPod’s flat. I’m quite addicted to it.”

Part of the barefoot revolution since she was born, Ruby turned heads in one of her first races back when she only owned one pair of running shoes.

“I locked them in my car just before a race,” she laughs. “So, I had to run barefoot and it received a lot of attention that I didn’t understand. I didn’t think it mattered what you were running in. Then I found there were forums of barefoot runners and naked foot and sole and a whole movement.”

While she used to train barefoot, the attention from that race led to her being approached by Vibram FiveFingers.

Because she didn’t know where she wanted to take her running Ruby was careful not to seek sponsors and the extra commitments that come with them, but she warmed to the laidback approach by FiveFingers.

up in the bush.

“We were always running around naked in the streams, running around the coast – it’s not something I’ve trained for or developed, it’s just how I am. Technical running keeps my mind engaged as well and it’s more fun listening to music on a technical track. It’s like playing rather than training for me.”

Her speed on descents was noted during her win at the Shotover Moonlight Mountain Marathon held near Queenstown in February.

She passed large tracts of the field during each downhill.

“It’s my form of cheating,” she smiles. “You can beat people who are a lot fitter than you just by bombing the descents, taking a few more risks rather than having the technical skills. Then I can take it easy up the other side and they catch me by the top, then I wave goodbye again. I always zigzag through races.”

The risks don’t always pay off – she says she has “a few scars”.

“I was always breaking bones as a kid, but I’ve done pretty well lately, just skinned knees.”

For Ruby, the 2013 Vibram Tarawera Ultra Marathon was the big goal of her recovery.

“If I could toe the line of a 100km race, surely I had recovered.”

Ruby put pressure on herself to perform, but with results came a lot of local pressure.

“Everyone in New Zealand was saying Ruby Muir was going to win,” she laughs.

Ruby knew the race well having supported her partner, Kristian, in it previously and wasn’t daunted going into her first 100km experience.

“A short race is just as painful as a long race – you just push harder.”

Even so, Ruby adjusted her perspective to prepare mentally for the 100km. It worked.

She finished seventh overall, winning the women’s in a time of 10hr 30min – a notch over three minutes behind Nicola Gildersleeve’s (Canadian/La Sportiva runner) course record set the previous year.

“I was in a good mental state – none of it felt

>>

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inNerview

>>

“They sent me some to try – I’ve got quite fussy feet and most shoes make my toes hurt. I said I would try them, but I was not really sure.

They were really understanding.” “[True] barefoot is best for me, but these shoes are as close as you get.”

At the root of Ruby’s motivation is simply a love to run, although she admits to a creeping competitive streak.

“I’m not really that hungry to win, but I am kind of curious [when it comes to racing]. I know that the sort of running I like to do and my strength would suit the Sky Running series and those sorts of runs in Europe. I would love to travel, so travelling with my running would be awesome, but I don’t know if I want that full-on lifestyle where you don’t have a home and all you do is travel around. I would like to choose a few races and see how it goes,” she offers.

Fellow Kiwi trail star, Anna Frost, is an inspiration to Ruby – a trail runner living the dream, but in Ruby’s version of a similar peripatetic, partner Kristian is travelling with her and they both enjoy the sights as much as they do the running.

Studying high performance sport in Napier, Kristian, is also Ruby’s coach.

“We train together well – we love going for long runs. But our daily running we normally do by ourselves,” she says as Kristian laughs. “I’m a morning person, he’s not, we work different hours and often when we run together we chat too much, so it takes us longer

At the root of Ruby’s motivation is simply a love to run, although she admits to a creeping competitive streak.” and we’re not as happy when we finish.”

I ask her who has the edge. She laughs and looks to Kristian before replying.

“Lately, Kristian is fastest. While I was training for Tarawera he has been doing a lot of speed work and some special training, intervals and tempo runs, and he’s making me quite jealous. We’ve joined the Harrier club and he’s been kicking my arse.”

For an athlete like Ruby to be performing at the level she is you might expect her to be training full time. In some ways she is, running 160km weeks in the build up to the Tarawera Ultra and throwing in a 70km run each fortnight as top up. But Ruby doesn’t subscribe to any norm; she’s an outlier, a judgment best illustrated by her 40-hour week job.

“I work at Hohepa, which is a community for mentally disabled and I work in the children’s community. I work in one house that has seven kids. I support them through daily life, take them to school, pick them up, try to teach them

all the basic things,” she explains. “The boy I work with is autistic, non-verbal and does a lot of self-harm, which is very hard to work with.”

Ruby draws some parallels between her running and her time working at Hohepa.

“I used to run as a way to cope with my daily emotions, but since my injury I learnt that it was not a long-term solution and I had to face up to them, so now I just enjoy the running. In a roundabout way I guess that lesson helps me with my job.”

While she takes lessons from her running life into the workplace, Ruby also takes the running to work.

“With one of the boys we look after, everyone is worried because his favourite thing is to run.

He runs so much, he just sprints everywhere, so that’s a direct way to help – we go for runs together and it calms him down a bit.”

I can picture it now: Ruby and her autistic charge out on the lawn, both running wild, all part of the healing process.

LAKE MOUNTAIN

SKYRUN 14/21/31km

trail running in a stunning alpine environment

Sunday 20th October www.mountainrunning.com.au

BOGONG ALPINE VILLAGE

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The moment:

portfolioChris Ord // Australian Editor edsword

story: chris ord photograpy: Lyndon Marceau

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a folio of trail imagery

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portfolio lyndon marceau

lyndon marceau portfolio

L

yndon Marceau first came to the attention of Trail Run Mag when it didn’t even exist. He met publisher Chris Ord while photographing The North Face 100. The two stayed in touch, the mag sprang to life and Lyndon was by then well entranced with capturing the poetry of running motion along singletrack. He has gone on to become one of Australia’s foremost photographers of trail and ultra running (not to mention playing a part in saving the editor’s life!).

Here, Lyndon talks about what the spell of dirt is and how he approaches his art of capturing it for our (and others’) pages.

What’s your personal connection to trail running?

I’ve always been an outdoors person and spent a lot of my younger years running and exploring trails by foot and mountain bike.

For me, getting out on the trails is all about freedom, challenge and the ever-changing environment. It’s refreshing to run and be a part of a community where people at all levels are genuinely interested in sharing their experience.

Why have you chosen to make it a focus of your photographic subject matter?

The trail running community feels like a big family, which makes it a rewarding and enjoyable sport to be part of. The people and characters I meet on trail shoots are interesting and varied. For me, also, the challenge of capturing runners in motion in the environment — getting a shot that gets the balance right between the three things: people, action and place - is a buzz. If an image potentially inspires others to run in the wilderness, that thought motivates me a lot, too.

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What are the best and worst aspects of photographing trail running as a sport?

The best part is that the outdoors is my office. I’m in the bush and enjoying stunning landscapes and backdrops. It’s satisfying when all the elements of a shoot come together how I visualised it and the results are portrayed in my images. The downside is that Mother Nature can be cruel; if the clouds come in too heavy and the light disappears, the weather can turn ugly quickly so I have to be prepared for every situation and know how to turn this to my advantage or make the call to get the hell out of there!

What is your approach to composing a trail running shot? What story are you trying to tell us visually?

Before I shoot I already know what I’m trying to achieve. The scenarios of my images vary depending on the client brief, the landscape, the runner and what story I’m trying to convey.

First and foremost though, it’s all about the light. I ask myself am I shooting at sunset, sunrise, underneath tree cover, big vistas with small runners, do I need or can I use flash fill or am I shooting natural light? Ultimately I’m trying to momentarily distract my viewers and catch their attention with an image that makes them go “Wow, I want to go run there” or at least “I want to go for a trail run”.

You’re starting to pop up at all the big trail run events and have shot some decent adventure runs too - what are a few of your favorite shoots to date and why?

Being invited to shoot Tarawera 100 where competitors and elites from all over the world descended on Rotorua, on New Zealand’s North Island. This race was so fast at the pointy end that we were literally being outrun. And we >>

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portfolio lyndon marceau

lyndon marceau portfolio

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lyndon marceau portfolio

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MARATHON & HALF MARATHON 12KM DAY RUN & 12KM NIGHT RUN 1.5KM FREE MOUNTAIN DOWNHILL & UPHILL 5KM FUN & KIDS RUN. NUTRITION & TECHNIQUE SEMINARS

8-10 MARCH 2014 WWW.MOUNTBAWBAW.COM.AU

were using cars and boats.

The other one that stands out was crewing and photographing for Lisa Tamati and Chris Ord (TRM Editor) in their Run The Planet TV Pilot in Alice Springs. It was such a challenging venture with temperatures soaring to around 50C in the Northern Territory outback/desert, wearing my crewman hat along with my photographer hat and having to be switched on all the time to Lisa and Chris’s needs as runners while planning shots in between. The events that unfolded (Chris has a tetany seizure) and the camaraderie of the crew made this a fulfilling experience.

No race has more been more physically challenging to shoot than the Northburn 100 Mile in Cromwell, on New Zealands’ South Island. The race director, Terry, warned me that competitors don’t race Northburn they survive it. And survive it I did also. Shooting in freezing conditions, with extremely strong winds that literally knocked me off my feet and

a long, sleep-deprived weekend of shooting was challenging beyond my wildest dreams.

I recall sitting in the back of a horse float huddling over my cameras trying to stay awake and somewhat warm and in between shooting athletes arriving at this checkpoint waiting for a lift off the mountain at 3am in the morning.

At the time this was the last place I wanted to be, but looking back on it now, I revel in the experience and cannot wait to go back and shoot Northburn in 2014.

Do you prefer photojournalism event shoots or staged, profile shoots working one on one and why?

I prefer working on advertorial style shoots one-on-one with athletes, be it individually or with a couple of runners at once. This allows me to connect and engage with my subjects and learn more about them. It’s challenging to bring out their best side, help them relax, run,

smile, look serious, run here, go there and most importantly have fun and enjoy the day/night all the while composing my shots usually to brief for a client. This said, the pace and true emotion of shooting on race day I love and it’s this excitement that can never be re-created the same in a staged shoot, but it’s a different thought pattern and process all together.

If you could shoot any trail event (that you haven’t yet shot) which would it be and why?

It’s hard not to be drawn to an event like UTMB (Ultra Trail du Mont Blanc). Set in amongst the Swiss Alps of Chamonix where the world of trail runners and ultra elites all come to purely enjoy running. It’s a weeklong festival, the town comes alive and has a heartbeat of it’s own. I would love to test myself and my abilities at altitude, capturing the >>

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portfolio lyndon marceau

portfolio

What is your all time favourite trail running shot that you have taken and why?

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elite athletes as they fight for podium places.

Second to this would be Transvulcania in the Canary Islands. Something about the contrast in scenery from lush rainforest to dry baron volcanic landscapes is very appealing.

Does shooting trail running require any special photographic gear? What is your most versatile set up (for the photography trainspotters out there)?

The gear can be as basic or as complex as you like it depends how far you’re willing to carry it to a location/race or BYO mule! I use all Nikon gear with my standard kit being a Nikon d3, Nikon d3s, 70-200mm f/2.8G ED VR II telephoto zoom, 24-70mm f/2.8G ED standard zoom and a wide angle 14-24mm f/2.8G ED with 3 x SB700 Speedlites, Pocket Wizards radio triggers and Manfrotto lightweight stands geez that sounds like a lot!!

Tell me about a moment you recall on job that encapsulates trail running for you?

My most recent job was one of the most relaxed, fun and enjoyable shoots I’ve been on. Working in conjunction with Trail Run Mag and Craft, I rallied a few of my good trail run mates to join me on an adventure. So with a male and female runner, videographer, and supporting mates, I headed out into the Blue Mountains, NSW, to one of my all time favourite locations I had recced and always wanted to shoot at sunset. This for me just oozes what trail running is all about: running in pretty cool spectacular locations at sunset and just enjoying being in the outdoors at what is arguably the best time of the day and what’s commonly referred to as magic hour.

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One image I love coming back to was on a shoot for Ay Up Lighting Systems. A good friend and trail runner mate, Josh and I had planned this shoot for weeks and time was running out to deliver images. As luck would have it come shoot day the storm clouds had rolled in and our weather window between heavy downpours was brief to say the least.

We decided to push on and headed out on part of the Coastal Track in NSW to shoot at dusk to create some dramatic images with the Ay Ups lights in their element. The shoot was going well, Josh was looking relaxed and running well, all the images were coming together and we’d packed all our gear and my camera bag into my trusty North Face duffels because the trails were already super wet and muddy and incase of a downpour. And a downpour we did get. The clouds turned that beautiful dark grey just after the sun set and the trails felt very eerie. A few spots of rain started falling but we pushed on, hoping to get a few more angles and images. Five minutes later things started looking serious, with lighting out to sea and thunder clapping above, we both agreed it was time to hot foot it. No sooner had I zipped up my camera bag and my duffel and was pulling the cord on my rain jacket that mother nature rained down on us in fury, it was one of those torrential tropical downpours and we still had a kilometre walk out. Trudging along the trails soon ankle deep in most places Josh and I were relishing in our luck and how awesome an experience it had been, albeit a few drenched souls.

See more Check out more of Lyndon’s work at www.marceauphotography.com or in most editions of Trail Run Mag !

Behind the scenes on some of the shots in this peice. See Lyndon and crew in action!

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Chris Ord // Australian Editor

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Duncan Read is not an experienced ultra runner. Heâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s a regular guy, with a regular job, a great wife and two kids. Sure, heâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s always been sporty and looked after his fitness. But he has type 1 diabetes, and has had so for 27 years, since he was 14. He entered the Big Red Run, a 250km multiday in the Simpson Desert, for an adventure and to prove that type 1 diabetes is not a barrier. This is his story, not of running or sore legs, but about the second time type 1 diabetes changed his life.

big red heart story: Duncan Read PHOTOGRAPHY: Jason Malouin and Chris Ord

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“T

hat kit bag is way too small.” Tom puts into words my first thoughts of the Big Red Run 2013. Except my thoughts include expletives. The size of the bag leads to doubts and questions: How am I going to get my clothes, medical supplies and compulsory kit into that? Plus all my food for six days? How the hell am I going to run 250km?

It is late in the evening after our charter flight unloaded us in Birdsville, in outback Quensland. I’m in the community hall, the welcomes are done and the race briefing is about to start.

I’ve missed dinner. Bollocks. I had missed dinner. What was my blood sugar level? When was my last injection? OK. Blood glucose test…

[8.7]. That’s good. Maybe I’ll skip dinner and just have a lower dose of my long acting insulin tonight; polish off a Mars Bar and muesli bar to tide me over. Not ideal preparation for a marathon, but enough to get me through the night. Little did I know it, but I just made my first mistake of the race.

At that moment, I was thrilled, adrenaline was pumping. I’d packed and repacked my kit at least four times the day before and I was now on the verge of the greatest adventure of my life.

I manage to squeeze my gear into the kit bag. I tie my sleeping bag, mat and spare runners to the outside and walk to the campsite. There is no going back now. Unlike the week in 1986 when I was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes, this week is going to be an 52

overwhelmingly positive experience.

The founder of Big Red Run, Greg Donovan, was inspired to create the event after the diagnosis of his son, Steve, with type 1. Like me, Steve was diagnosed in his teens. Unlike me Steve was only 20 and had only a few of my 27 years’ type 1 experience.

Once I read Greg’s story I signed on. This was an event that would not only push my physical and mental resolve beyond any sane measure, but would also take me to a great part of Australia and allow me to raise money and awareness for diabetes. It felt like my calling.

It had taken nine months to prepare. I talked my mate Tom into running as a race partner. I’d had lots of GP visits and consultant advice to work out a health plan. I’d had physio sessions, nutrition advice, and I’d tested my food and insulin strategies - not to mention a whole lot of running and strength training.

So here I am on the eve of the race, in good shape. Even so, I’m not sure my joints will survive, or that my mind will overcome the pain of a grueling 250km course. So what? I have my Plan B. I am already over half way towards my fundraising target of $20,000 and I have proved that I am fit enough for at least one marathon. So, what the hell if I don’t finish all six stages? I’ll have given it a bash, promoted the message, and I’ll go back home safe. That was enough.

But deep down I knew that would be failure.

I am out here to prove that at 41, with 27 years of type 1 behind me, I can compete with the fittest. Can’t I?

Duncan’s ever present guardian: an insulin level test kit.

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At the first checkpoint my blood glucose meter is low... [3.2]. I cram in two gels, a muesli bar and a sports drink. Too much for my stomach”

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ENTER THE SAND MAN

Type 1 Diabetic Roger Hanney gets his kit checked by partner and eventual BRR winner, Jess Baker.

BRR founder Greg Donovan and his Type 1 Diabetic son, Steven. They both completed the 250km event.

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It’s 05:30. Race day. We stir in our sleeping bags.

I switch on my headlight and fumble for my blood testing kit. Test...[5.0]. Perfect. Better have a small jab of fast-acting insulin — not too much — big day today. I would normally inject around 4-5 insulin units before eating a bowl of porridge and a muesli bar. With a full marathon ahead of me I decide that one unit will be enough. Jab. We eat porridge and top up with a concoction of electrolyte powders, fish oil tablets and magnesium supplements. Kit is packed into two bags, one to go to the camp and one that will travel every single kilometre on our backs.

My backpack is 5-6kg, despite only packing essential safety items: two litres of water, food bag including energy gels, electrolyte powders, muesli bars, nuts and lollies. Plus, a couple of extra things to manage my diabetes: two blood test kits, just in case; my two insulin pens —one blue with fast acting insulin, and one white with long acting insulin; and a spare bag of food. I’m still worried about whether I’ve got enough. I sling the pack on and make my way across to the start outside the iconic Birdsville Hotel.

A throng has gathered, colourful, noisy and excited. Cameras snap, drink bottles are filled and everyone is smiling. So am I. But inside

I’m a mess. I test my sugar... [10.9]. Brekky has kicked in. Great. Outside ten minutes later I test again... [11.8]. I always like two tests close together to show me the trend. This trend is up, which is good, as the extreme exercise ahead will bring my sugars down.

The race director calls us to start and with a blast of the horn we’re off into the desert and the unknown. The first checkpoint is in 12km. I calculate one or two energy gels should get me there. Seven or eight runners are out ahead, but most are behind us.

“Hi I’m Lucy.” A young girl joins alongside. To pass the time and take my mind off the dunes I ask Lucy if she knows much about type 1.

“Yeah, a bit, we’ve studied it at school.”

Lucy is just 17. I was diagnosed with diabetes 10 years before she was even born.

At the first checkpoint my blood glucose meter is low... [3.2]. I cram in two gels, a muesli bar and a sports drink. Too much for my stomach, but on we march. Ten minutes later I call out to Tom to stop for another test to check my blood sugar trend. Crap! ...[2.1]. Even lower. Even though I’d stuffed in food just a few minutes ago, in went more, a handful of snakes, another gel and another bar. I was full. Ten minutes later... [3.2], then... [4.4].

Tom knows about diabetes. We’ve spent a lot of time talking about emergency plans on our training runs, just in case we needed them.

Like a diving ‘buddy’, Tom is there just in case.

I could go on listing blood sugar level after blood sugar level, but the story of the rest of the day is pain. I’ve stuffed something up. This isn’t normal running.

We’re passed by runner after runner as I fight my glucose level harder than I fight the beautiful but challenging desert course. I eat and eat, and then eat some more.

I spend a lot of time thinking of my mum, of her feelings of love, encouragement and support. And knowing that she is back in England worrying as only the mum of someone with type 1 diabetes can. But also worrying with the unconditional love all mums, my wife included, have for their kids; regardless of whether they have a chronic condition or not.

I decide to run today for my mum, and all mums, and finish 42km in 7hrs. My legs are smashed, my tummy is full. I’ve been burping and retching for the last three hours. I want to pull out. Already.

I can pull out. Others have come to complete one marathon, not the 250km course. I can do that. I can save face. I’ve raised money. I’ve proved one marathon can be run in the desert by a type 1. I’ve shared my story with at least one runner. There is no failure in that. I can’t repeat today’s run. I can hardly walk.

Settling into camp I meet Roger Hanney. He has type 1 but is an experienced ultra runner.

He eats up events like this for breakfast. He and >>

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the rest of the Born to Run team have run four of

these style events on four different continents.

He was cool, pin up quality cool.

I approach him. “Roger, something went wrong with my diabetes today, I was fighting low sugars all day.”

We spend an hour talking about type 1, endurance events, glucose levels, nutrition, insulin. The problem was that I’d not eaten enough the night before. I’d also not reduced my long acting insulin enough the previous night.

We explored options. That’s what you do with type 1. You learn from experience and shared experiences. You adapt. That evening, Roger helps me find the answer. It proves crucial.

The next day I change my insulin dose, reducing the units of long acting insulin significantly and split it 50:50 meaning I will have half a dose of insulin when I wake up and half when I get back from the run.

The next day pans out well. I feel like King Kong. Indeed, I beat my day one marathon time by over an hour. Now I think I have it nailed.

Now I can relax a little and enjoy the Simpson Desert. I see a dingo at the start line, birds, and cattle. There are so many different types of surface I can’t count. Soft sand, hard sand, stones, sandy moguls, gibber plains, flats, dunes and spinifex - the prickly cactus plants that get in your shoes and socks and are the Big Red runner’s nemesis.

On the second night strangers turn into family. The campfire does that. It softens people and peels away a layer of defence. I speak openly to my new family. I tell them I had run day two for my dad, a man who believed in me, who knew I could do it. For my dad who took me cycling through the Pyrenees just a few years after my diagnosis. He never let on his fear or worry about the disease, he didn’t micromanage me. He left me to my own devices and made it normal. It was just a cycling holiday. I also ran for other fathers who teach their kids to believe, and who lead by example. Hopefully the father that I am being.

The third day brings rain. The first time in the Simpson for four months. Great for farmers.

Bad for runners. The sand turns to mud and

clogs our shoes. Each foot feels like a medicine ball. My knee is sore and the surface is slippery.

It is tough as hell.

Again I battle the balance of endurance exercise, sugar level, food and insulin. Again I win. The only eventful thing is having to stop to lube up my nipples. Damn my wet shirt is scratchy.

We make it up the biggest dune ‘Big Red’ and Tom and I sprint down the other side for the finish. Three marathons in three days.

That night we sit around the campfire and share stories of living and competing with type 1. We tell people that type 1 is not a disease you choose, or that you can avoid. It just happens.

It happened to me and Steve Donovan in our teens. It happened to Roger when he was in his 30s. It happened to some of the volunteers too.

It strikes, and it changes lives.

When it happens it’s scary. You hear about all the things you can’t do, or can’t eat. Roger puts it well: “If someone tells you can’t do something because of type 1, get a second opinion. If that second opinion also tells you can’t, adapt. Be resilient. Work around safely, but prove them wrong.”

I don’t sleep well that night. I worry about nighttime hypos, the worst kind. They are more likely when you have been exercising.

Especially when you have run three back-toback marathons in the desert. One strategy is to go to bed with higher than normal sugars. This makes sleeping difficult. You get thirsty, you need to drink, you need to piss.

I go to bed with high sugars... [18.2] worried that my increased sensitivity to insulin, caused by the extreme amount of running, will make me tank, an experience where sugars drop rapidly during the night.

The tank does not arrive. The eventual mistake is a result of my tiredness in the morning caused by broken sleep from needing to drink. I am a physical and mental wreck.

Shattered. I flick on my head torch, fish out my blood testing kit and insulin. I test... [18.4].

Thought so. It felt high. I think about my insulin strategy for the day. It’s a shorter day, only 25km. I decide to have a reduced shot

DIABETES AND ENDURANCE SPORTS – HOW DOES IT WORK? The bodies of people with type 1 diabetes cannot regulate blood sugar levels; simply, their pancreas is cactus. Instead, they need to carefully balance things like eating, exercising and using the drug insulin – which they cannot live without – to target blood sugar levels of between 4 and 8. Blood glucose testing kits the size of a wallet are carried everywhere.

Diabetics are taught to recognise much higher (>10) or much lower (<4) blood sugar levels, but extreme activities make it harder.

When glucose levels are too low there is an immediate and dangerous impact, which may lead to hypo (collapse, and sometimes, but rarely, death). This can be averted by eating foods or drinks rich in simple carbs like jelly beans, biscuits, orange juice.

When glucose levels are too high the risk is less immediate, but high sugars can also lead to coma and death if extended over long periods. Insulin and exercise lower blood sugars. Food raises them.

>>

If someone tells you you can’t do something because of type 1, get a second opinion.”

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Poor control over short periods of several days is uncomfortable but can be okay. Poor blood glucose control over long periods is very serious and inevitably leads to a higher risk of complications like high blood pressure, heart disease, kidney failure, eye damage. Keeping fit, exercising and eating a healthy balanced diet is even more critical in a person with type 1 than it is for everyone else.

“My view,” says Duncan, “is that vigorous exercise should be promoted and encouraged for people in type 1. It has a multitude of physical, social and psychological benefits.”

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next lesson in managing type 1. Roger springs in to action. He questions, rationalises the science, we do the maths and work out exactly how much sugar I need to counteract the insulin. We go to the medical tent where an array of runners are being bandaged. We tell the medical team the situation.

My blood sugar is dropping, fast. We find enough carbs to make Augustus Gloop go weak at the knees. Sitting in front of me is Roger and the race medical director, Dr Glenn Singleman.

Between us is a mountain of glucose. Two 600ml bottles of Powerade; one can of Red Bull; one 500g bag of snakes; two glucose syrup vials from the medical bag; one jar of honey.

The clock ticks and I start eating and drinking.

All of it. All except the honey.

I start feeling better. My sugars are high and stabilising. This strategy may work.

Explaining the predicament to the race director, he agrees that I can start one hour after everyone else to allow the sugars to kick in. It is the shortest run day, which makes me feel better.

I go to thank Roger and tell him I’m starting late. He looks surprised and disappointed.

“Are you sure?” he says. “Isn’t this the point?

Isn’t this why we are here? To show that we can

of long acting insulin in the white pen.

I draw up eight units and jab it into my bum.

Bang. All in. It is getting light now and I put the pen back in its case. FUCK! Fuck-fuck-fuckfuck-fuck. I have used the wrong pen. I have just overdosed on fast acting insulin in eight, yes EIGHT times the required dose. This is bad.

Within 15 minutes my sugar level will plummet.

I will need to eat a horse made of sugar just to equalize, let alone make up the additional low from running a half-marathon later in the day.

I am on my own. I grab a pack of jellybeans and start eating and sobbing at the same time.

My race is over. Idiot.

In 27 years of injecting I have done this only once before, but not when I was in the middle of one of the hardest races on earth, when my body was super-sensitive to insulin. Another mouthful of jellybeans. The race starts in less than an hour. There is no way I can possibly consume enough carbs to run safe.

Roger. Where’s Roger?

“What’s up?”

He can tell from the look on my face something is wrong.

“I’ve just ended my race. I’m a fucking idiot.”

I explain what I have done. Then comes the

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adapt and overcome anything?”

He’s saying I should start on time, but the look on my face gives away that I’m worried for my life. He apologises, saying the decision is mine.

Yet, he’s right. The safety network is in place.

The doctors and medical team know what’s happened, they will be at every checkpoint.

Tom will be with me. There are 4WDs and a helicopter. This is my life-changing moment.

I lace up shoes and prepare my kit, pondering the decision on whether to run, whether to wait, or whether to pull out. Word has spread. The volunteers and other runners all know. Oneby-one they drop by. A hug here, a word of encouragement there. I test my blood sugar. Far from being low it is super high. Jess walks past.

She and Roger not only camp and race together, they live together. Jess knows about diabetes.

She sees my distress. She doesn’t say anything, just touches my arm reassuringly and heads off to warm up. With that touch, I make my decision.

Not only will I run. I will start on time.

We run around a lake. I don’t remember any of it. All I can say is that at 25km and 3hrs of running, it is a bloody big lake. Legendary ultra runner Pat Farmer runs from the start to the first >>

I have just overdosed on fast acting insulin in eight, yes EIGHT times the required dose” <<

checkpoint with me. We joke it is the carbs that I guzzled down that is powering me through. But, with my bloated belly, I know it is Pat’s power and the spirit of all the support behind me that keeps me moving. Pat knows I am in pieces; he knows and he runs and he talks. He shadows me like a guardian. His stories of incredible adventures take my mind off the fear. Pat again teaches me that anything is possible.

That night I make the journey to the top of the Big Red sand dune and weep into my phone. It must have been hard for my wife. Like so many others who lend support, her role is crucial.

The penultimate day, and a double marathon in a day is daunting. The furthest I’d ever walked is 100km in two days at an event called the Alpine Challenge in Victoria. In that event my team walked 75km on the first day, camped and finished with a 25km walk the next day. My feet had been wrecked and that was walking. This was a different kettle of fish.

This was well outside my comfort zone. It will be the longest distance I have ever covered in a day, and I’ll be running.

I worry about sugars and insulin and what to leave at various checkpoints. But I make a plan. Tom and I will run the first and walk the second marathon. We expect a 16-hour day.

I don’t remember much about the first leg except that it is dark and that I am flying, high on emotion after receiving Facebook messages from friends and family. At checkpoint one I restate my commitment to run the long day for my wife, Justine, and sons Will and Henry. To show them that you can do anything you set your mind to.

Of course, it is sod’s law that the longest day is also the hottest. The strong, dry wind makes it harder. But like the sun we blaze through the

first marathon and keep going; running >>

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and talking and running and believing.

I learn about willpower, but I also learn that it doesn’t really matter what distance you run, it is always the last few kilometers in each day that hurt the most. That is when the demons come and will you to stop, when you are close to the finish.

These last 10km of day five are the hardest I have ever travelled. It is endless. Lifting knees is hard and the soft sand and rutted and lumpy trails don’t help. In the end my legs just won’t run and we walk. The sun drops down and we pull on head torches.

A cheer from the campsite sighting our lights buoys us and we ran the final 800m.

We cross in 12hrs 35 minutes, knowing we will now finish off the Big Red Run. I had already proven on that longest of days that anything was possible.

I stay up most of the night, eating and testing and injecting. The fire is warm, the stars are out and I think of my wife and my sons sleeping under the same stars. I hum Chariots of Fire.

Diabetes is again keeping me up but I am fine.

I am great.

I had thought that the race was about me, about Steve, about type 1, but I was wrong. It was much more than that. It was about raising funds and awareness for diabetes, but it was also about the cause of every runner out there.

It was about teamwork, spirit and belief.

I made time on the last day to talk to as many people as possible as we packed up camp. For some it was their passion, for some it was a world record. All of us had our causes. There was diabetes, asthma, depression, mental illness, cancer, Red Cross, weight loss, love, loss, determination, Papua New Guinea, and even left ventricular non-compaction disorder.

But, most of all we were all there for fun.

I love day six. I spend it at the front of the pack. It’s a bit like the last stage of the Tour de-France; no one challenges the leader. We gently run into Birdsville and the waiting supporters, volunteers and media. I talk to Jess who wins outright. As part of the Born to Run team she has now completed five desert runs

A story about love, belief, and hope and support. About adapting and having fun” on five continents. I told her what her touch on my arm had meant to me on day four. That it was one of the reasons I was still in the field.

As I cross the finish line I am underwhelmed by the lack of emotion I feel. I can’t understand it. I feel sad that the week is over, but happy that I would soon return to my family. I’m not shattered. I feel I can turn around and run another day, or two or three. The emotion hasn’t hit me.

Sitting under the Birdsville Pub verandah trying to process the past six days, ultra runner Lisa Tamati approaches asking me for my story, for a few words about diabetes. I tell a story I have shared rarely before, not even with my parents. I shared it with Tom somewhere deep and dark on the longest day.

It was a story about a sick and scared 14-yearold in the week before he was diagnosed with diabetes. It was a story about his scared family, and his mum and dad’s unwavering support.

It was a story about love, belief, and hope and support. About adapting and having fun.

Most of all it was a story about achievement and what that 14-year-old could do 27 years later. It was about his hope that his story would be shared with other families encountering type 1 for the first time. It was a story that after so many years with diabetes you could still be fitter, stronger and more resilient than all of your peers for having, rather than not having, type 1. It was a story about the second time that diabetes changed my life.

vitals Donate to JDRF at Big Red Run. everydayhero.com/au/duncan.

Big Red Run will take place again in July 2014. Details at www.bigredrun.com.au

Check out some of the action on the sand, press PLAY

An iconic race should start and finish at an iconic place: the Birdsville Pub, Outback Queensland.

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magic Chris Ord // Australian Editor

STORY: Rachel Jacqueline IMAGES: Lloyd Belcher Visuals 62

T hey say warrior legend Genghis Khan was the first to utter, “it’s not how many breaths you take, but the moments that take your breath away”.

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ike Maddess bets that Khan spoke those words while standing on top of a rocky mountainside looking out over the vast sweeping steppes of his Mongolian empire.

“It’s just some place completely different,” says the Action Asia Events race director, speaking of the land of yurts, nomads and goat milk that has evolved into one of his company’s most popular race destinations.

In the last two years, Maddess has taken almost 250 runners exploring hundreds of kilometres of the country in his three-day, 60 and 100km ultra marathon and hikes. He joins long time race organisers, Sunrise to Sunset Ultramarathon, who has held a 100km race there since 1999.

“Running [in Mongolia] gives you a chance to challenge yourself in different way. You get completely different views and see all sorts of things you wouldn’t usually see, like skull bones of eaten animals. It really gives you an idea of what kind of ruthless lands you’re travelling through, and what people survive in.”

The nomadic Mongols, many of which still dress in their native colourful attire, also

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offer a unique cultural experience as they stand in awe at the crazy foreigners running across their land.

Hailing from Canada, Maddess is a lifelong fan of the singletrack and has logged many hours racing over remote trails across Asia. But he believes there is something mesmerising about heading into the open deserts of Mongolia. It’s a magic that has been slowly pulling him back to the country over the last decade.

Maddess first planned a race in Mongolia in 2002. Over the course of the year he spent weeks planning the course for the ultra challenge, to be held the following year. But as the onset of SARS in 2003 devastated the Asian economy, Mongolian Airlines cancelled flights, the event sponsor pulled out and the event was eventually cancelled.

“It was incredibly disappointing and we lost a lot of money,” he says. “But I knew I would be back.” He was right, but it took him ten years.

Mongolia’s economy has experienced a boom in recent years, bolstered by foreign investment, mining and cashmere exports.

Since suffering a devastating blow twenty years ago after embracing sweeping political

skull bones of eaten animals.

It really gives you an idea of what kind of ruthless lands you’re travelling through, and what people survive in”

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Mongolia offers variety beyond most people’s expectations, making it challenging on the body.

“It’s like going up a staircase”

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and economic reforms, Mongolia’s economy has grown from a measly 2.9% to a reported 17% growth rate in 2011, though the growth is now closer to 8%. It has brought with it direct flights into the country and bustling tourism.

While capital Ulaan Baatar is described by Maddess as a “mad house”, just ten minutes out of the city guests are able to find serenity in Mongolia’s desolate, though welcoming terrain. There is no phone coverage where he takes his race-goers. “They love it, they really get a chance to unplug,” he says. “Their boss can’t call them.”

But why exactly would you want to go to Mongolia, I hear you say? To run? Exactly the same reason most people wouldn’t want to go there.

“Mongolia is the least densely populated country on earth, and is also the world’s second-largest landlocked country,” explains runner Michael Ormiston, who took line honours at the 2013 100 km Mongolia ultra marathon and hike.

“It’s one of the last great frontiers and, given so much land mass, presents an

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opportunity to run on virgin trails ranging from grasslands, muddy bogs to sand dunes and rocky mountains, while running among wild animals and passing local nomads in their ger camps. It’s pretty much a cocktail of everything, which makes the course fun, interesting and a challenge.”

“Plus it’s pretty cool to tell your mates that you ran an ultra in Mongolia,” he adds with a smile.

Mongolia offers variety beyond most people’s expectations, making it challenging on the body. “It’s like going up a staircase made of jello,” says Maddess of the multiple sand dunes that are a common feature in his races. “Then of course there’s running down them… It’s exhilarating.”

“I loved the variety of the terrain,” adds Brigette Weber, another competitor at the 2013 event. “Smooth hills, running through cow and goat herds, though they did make navigation a bit more difficult,” she admits.

Mongolia offers what there simply isn’t much of in other parts of the world says fellow competitor Dana Baluk: flat, runnable terrain. “There are enough hilly or technical >>

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Mongolia offers what there simply isnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t much of in other parts of the worldâ&#x20AC;?

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like any good race, the best part of travelling to this remote country to run is the ability to really connect with others.”

ENTER NOW! to secure discount accommodation!

THERE’S A FINE LINE BETWEEN

PLEASURE & PAIN

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races around I believe… the relatively flat course offered maximum enjoyment of the surroundings,” she says.

It is also a land of the unexpected, adding to a sense of real adventure. “You’re on the edge of Siberia,” Maddess cautions. “The weather can be really unpredictable.”

“On day one of this year’s race, the morning started off with blue skies and temperatures were in the mid to high twenties. In the afternoon we looked out and there was just this wall of rain coming towards us. I was stuck out on the course bringing in the last participants, while standing under a tree. The temperature must have dropped to almost

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zero. I almost got hypothermic.”

But like any good race, the best part of travelling to this remote country to run is the ability to really connect with others.

Hovering by the campfire surrounded by their ger tents, inoperable mobile phones tucked away in their packs, people start lifelong conversations with strangers that soon become friends.

“It’s such a big part of all of these races, the socialising,” says Maddess nostalgically.

“They come back to the tents each night and share their experiences with each other. I think that’s what really makes this race - it’s a shared journey.”

vitals Action Asia Events three-day marathon and hike is held in June each year www.actionasiaevents.com The Mongolia Sunrise to Sunset is held in August each year http://ms2s.dk

SATURDAY 30 NOVEMBER TRAIL RUN + MOUNTAIN BIKE MULTISPORT WWW.MOUNTBAWBAW.COM.AU MT BAW BAW, VICTORIA

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Black Dog Days Shaun Brewster seeks insight into the lows that can follow the extreme highs of ultra and adventure trail running. Here, he talks to four trail athletes with different perspectives on why it happens and how they cope, while Dr. Joan Steidinger â&#x20AC;&#x201C; also an ultra runner â&#x20AC;&#x201C; offers her professional insights having studied the psychological and physiological lows of her beloved sport.

STORY: Shaun Brewster with Dr. Joan Steidinger IMAGES: Lyndon Marceau and Tegyn Angel

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Life compressed. That’s the the experience of running long distances. In any ultra run, you feel incredible high points and, of course, fall to depths that have you asking why put yourself in this position?

Maybe it is that very emotional contrast that has us coming back again and again? An addiction anchored in the fact that with the experience of extremes comes great perspective and the ability to validate just about any torture you find yourself in.

This notion of ‘life compressed’ into a run does not finish at the finishline, however.

For some, the post-run mental low or ‘Black Dog’ is an inevitable part of the comedown that happens after an extreme effort. I’d even hypothesise that the longer you run, the more epic the challenge, the bigger and more aggressive that Black Dog is that comes skulking around as you return to regular life post adventure.

Is this normal? Do we have to expect there will be a period of emotional flatness afterwards?

Is there something we can do to limit the fallout so that to some extent we can contain the emotional pendulum within the running experience only? Shouldn’t we be on a high after completion, having successfully knocked off a goal that cost us so dearly in hours and days and weeks of training and pain throughout the run?

Who better to get the answers from than some of the trail running community’s most experienced? Runners that have pushed themselves beyond what most would contemplate and have lived first hand enormous comedowns, many times over.

Arguably one of New Zealand’s most accomplished ultra runners, Lisa Tamati, says horrific bouts of depression have often curtailed

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the buoyancy of finishing her big adventure runs.

“I suffer from psychological dips after big events, without fail,” says Tamati. “When it first happened I was worried I would never pull out of depression. It was after the Marathon des Sables in Morocco and it was a combination of having gone through a life-changing experience and having exhausted the body completely.

“The experience is intense, new and overwhelming. The build-up to any big run comes at the cost of an awful amount of training, preparation, fundraising and organisation to get there. Then, the run itself is wildly difficult, but you then achieve what you set out to do and it’s an amazing high. You come home on a strange mixture of elation and exhaustion and satisfaction. Sometimes it feels surreal and the achievement can take some time to sink in. The relief is huge. But then emptiness creeps in.

“Often on these big runs you are away overseas in an exotic place in this little bubble and it feels like the rest of the world doesn’t exist and what you have achieved feels huge and only the people there can really understand. That comradeship is often something very special.

I can only imagine soldiers must feel a similar thing (only we are not getting shot at!).

“No-one at home gets what you have been through, no one feels the change you have gone through. As a woman, my hormones can be quite out of balance from the extreme effort, with adrenalin and cortisol going through the roof and causing other hormone levels to drop and making me grumpy, short tempered and depressed. The body also starts to realise it’s no longer in danger and starts the actual recovery phase and that makes you feel lethargic and worse.”

Lisa stresses the importance of giving your body >>

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time to recover without beginning training too soon. She also likes to use the mantra “This too shall pass” and as things improve mentally you can then begin to focus on your next challenge.

As a lawyer-turned-financial advisor who also holds down a public speaking career, Victorian adventure runner Samantha Gash takes a the pragmatic approach of an organised personality to ward off to any dip in mental state. However, she admits to experiencing her share of lows having completed the epic 4 Deserts multiday series, the 222km single stage La Ultra The High and a record breaking single stage crossing of the Simpson Desert.

“I find that I get this psychological dip after expeditions or races that require complex logistical preparation and immense mental focus prior to the event in addition to during it,” says Gash. “I also tend to feel that ‘race/adventure withdrawal’ when I have achieved a certain goal with the collaboration of others.

“The tendency is to stack another goal immediately afterwards in an attempt to overcome that slight feeling of emptiness.

Although I have a five-year plan of races/ adventures that I am working towards, I now try and embrace every emotion after a race and spend time reflecting on what that experience taught me.

“Most importantly, you need rest - mentally and physically. It is easy to neglect what toll you put your mind and body through. Then when you get back to training and planning you are fully recharged and ready to put all of your energies into it.

Widely regarded for his philosophical approach to running and to life in general, New South Wales-based runner, Matt Cooper is perhaps the master of maintaining positive energy and suffers little down time.

“I really don’t get the post event blues, however I can certainly understand why it happens. The way I would explain it is, as a runner - what you see (or feel) is what you get, but…not what is ‘real’.

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“When you cross the finish line of an ultra (or any run, even training) you have reached a new peak. You have possibly pushed or allowed yourself to go through some boundaries that you thought existed and can now see what you can really do. It is very ‘normal’ for runners to then feel a few days later that they have slid back down into a valley somewhere and are not sure why. This is purely because of their vision and what they think they are seeing.

“For me, I look at every run or race as just the next part of the trail up a mountain. Sure I can train and put a lot of energy into a big event but when I cross the line it was still an event that is taking me towards another.

“When a runner looks at a race as the finish line, they send energy, focus and vision no further than this point. When they get there, they have grown in many ways but feel they now need something else. What I recommend is set yourself a vision for a particular race [or run] and ask yourself what it will mean when you complete it? What will it mean you can do next?

When you do cross the line, take a day or two to look back at what you did to achieve this - The Journey. Who supported you? Give a little bit of energy back to those that gave to you.

“If you don’t have another race for a while, enjoy what running has given you in many other areas of your life. One great thing about learning to run well, is your ability to focus great energy.

When you have no races planned, focus this in quality ways.”

Yes, Coops is the original Running Buddha, but his proof is in his race pudding as a consistent top five performer on the ubercompetitive trails of Europe.

Ultra running gun, Shona Stevenson, has shown her mettle on trail time and again, but admits the mental toughness she relies on in the wilderness sometimes deserts her once her race is over. Now an experienced competitor, she has developed coping strategies.

“I used to suffer terribly from the post Ultra Blues. It use to hit me badly on what I call ‘Come Down Tuesday,” says Shona. “You’ve

trained your guts out for a one single event. An event that takes absolute mental and physical toughness to get through. The focus that you had on this one event is incredible. It saps your body of all its resources physically and mentally.

Now you’ve finished you have nothing, no goal, no focus, nothing. You’ve celebrated and bragged to your mates for a few days and your adrenalin has run out. Your body is in repair. You ‘crash’ physically and mentally.

“Knowing this now, I approach my mental and physical recovery after an event with a focus on: 1) nutrition; 2) exercising with a mate; 3) sleeping; 4) establishing new goals or a focus; and 5) simply accepting that I have ‘Come Down Tuesday’ and riding it out.

“The first and perhaps the most important thing to do directly after completing a race is to dial in your nutritional needs,” advises Shona.

“Hydrate as soon as you finish: two litres in the next two hours after finishing. Glucose - have a few Jelly Beans handy to give your brain the instant fuel it needs. Recovery Mix made up from 4 parts carbs, 1 part protein. I like Hammer Recoverite, but grab a chocolate milk if that’s easier. You need to drink this WITHIN the first hour of finishing exercise.

“About 2-3 hours after your event, get a solid meal into you like Burgers and Chips or a Pizza.

Reward yourself and ENJOY the sinful carbs,” says Shona. “If you want to celebrate with a beer or champagne go for it, you’ve more than earned it.”

According to Dr. Joan Steidinger, a licensed psychologist and certified consultant in sports psychology, post-race let downs arrive when you least expect it even when you do all the “right” things.

“Ultrarunning can increase beta-endorphins (natural opiates in brain that contribute to positive feelings) and the neurotransmitters serotonin and norepinephrine that contribute to feeling good,” says Dr Steidinger. “All those endorphins and neurotransmitters in the brain

that act as signals kept pushing you through >>

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YOU DON’T

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each mile begin to descend in their activity and let you down following the end of a race. When they descend too quickly, you may struggle after with feeling little pleasure, lacking motivation, grappling with fatigue, combatting sleep problems, and/or experiencing difficulties with concentration and focus.”

Dr Steidinger says that research indicates that an individual who regards their race time as disappointing may be more likely to experience post race depression. However, although there are numerous studies on the positive effects of running, there is little to no research on post race depression for ultrarunners or even marathoners.

“Psychologically speaking, post race depression occurs when the major race/event is done and one is either disappointed in themselves or asks the question ‘What’s next?’,” says Steidinger.

“After months of training, the race is over and the let down occurs. Ultrarunners may feel an empty spot unless they’ve lined up other races, activities or even more challenging work. The training (physical) and value (psychological) that you place upon a race often affects your post race experience. If you’ve not pre-planned ways to reward yourself in some way at the completion of the race, this will contribute to your experience of the “Black Dog” at your doorstep.”

“Reward and pre-plan are the two best pieces of advice that I can offer. I’m big on rewards with my athletes, since each time that you complete an ultra you need to congratulate yourself in some form. Rewards might include such activities as spending time with friends, going out to your favorite restaurant, reading a good book, going out dancing, seeing a movie... the things that quite often training for an ultra keeps you from enjoying,” says Steidinger.

It is clear that a psychological or emotional ‘dip’ after a big challenge is to be expected. It is how we manage our physical state and mental outlook both during and after the event that can put us in the best (or worst) position for when the Black Dog comes sniffing at our door, as though it smelled our achievement one hundred miles away.

Wine and movie, anyone? I’ve just finished a miler…

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NEED the SCIENCE… Dr. Joan Steidinger is a licensed psychologist, sport psychologist, Certified Consultant by the Association of Applied Sports psychology and on the USOC Registry of Sports Psychology. She specialises in sports and peak performance psychology. www.powerzonephd.com Shaun Brewster is a Sports Musculoskeletal Therapist and an Exercise Physiologist and principal of Brewster’s Running www.brewstersrunning.com .

Keep an eye out on www.trailrunmag.com for strength and conditioning for trail running articles by Shaun.

Northburn video SCAN or CLICK to WATCH

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feature

beyond the wire You think your run was ‘on the edge’? You got nuthin’ on Jeremiah Smith whose forays past the fence line and on to scorched earth risk a bullet or worse. That’s trail running in Afghanistan for you… story + photograpy: Jeremiah Smith

I

t’s the end of another stressful day somewhere in Afghanistan, my second combat tour here, and I’m about to abandon my combat gear – boots, body armor and M-4 carbine rifle – for running shoes, shorts and a t-shirt. I’ll hide my M-4 under my pillow and go taunt every Taliban, Al Qaeda and anti-coalition fighter around with nothing between them and me but, at most, a triple strand of concertina wire. Even here, on a forgotten Forward Operating Base (FOB) in southern Afghanistan, you’ve got to get out and hit the trails, right?

I grab my roommate and running buddy, Seth. If one of those bad guys are going to do me in, I want a witness. That and he’s perfectly stoic. If I want to talk, he’ll listen; if I don’t, he’ll run with me just the same. Of course there’s safety in numbers too. If someone does take pot shots, the odds of them aiming specifically at you decrease substantially when you have a running buddy alongside.

We lean forward and begin our run near the firing range. No one’s here tonight shooting M-4s, Kalashnikovs or RPGs and that’s good because a shepherd from the adjacent village is 80

grazing his goats and sheep in the target area.

The image cracks me up as we run by – the Army shooting range nestled right up next to an Afghan version of Brigadoon. Who in their right mind came up with this layout?

Now, I should give a disclaimer of sorts at this point…

I’m a U.S. Army Black Hawk helicopter pilot, a Chief Warrant Officer, and I live a conflicting life. I abhor the wastefulness of modern technology and a few aspects of the American lifestyle I go to war to protect (whatever that means and however that may or may not actually work). The over-consumption, commercialism, immediate-gratification and something-for-nothing aspects of the great nation I belong to turn my stomach. I want to be a small-time subsistence farmer in the country, enjoy the out-of-doors and take no more than I need while trying to give back more at the same time. That’s the ‘hippie’ inside of me I have to suppress while I continue my highly-technical, precious-resourceconsuming Army career. I love the country of Afghanistan and see its people as great though oft misunderstood. I wish I was able to spend time on the ground helping some small village rise above the chaos of the last several decades, but I can’t. My job right now is to fly helicopters, not conduct myself as an international humanitarian. That internal

struggle adds to the stress of operations for me personally and greatly increases my need to get out and run to unwind.

From the range we turn clockwise onto the perimeter road. Up-armored Humvee’s and Romanian armored personnel carriers patrol the perimeter of the FOB from this sketchy line of doubletrack. Within an armored vehicle it’s one thing, running it in shorts and t-shirt is another thing all together. There is nothing between you and no-man’s land but a chain-link fence (some of the time) and haphazardly strung concertina wire (most of the time). Within the FOB, behind the security of the perimeter fence, the guard towers, concrete slabs and eight foot high dirt-filled barriers, we wear our combat gear, carry our weapons and play war. When we cross the wire on combat missions, in the air or on the ground, we wear our body armor, helmets, and carry our weapons locked and loaded, ready to fire in an instant. These are hard and fast rules in combat. But that all gets set aside for a few miles most days; no one questions breaking those rules and going for a jog around the perimeter road, especially after sitting uncomfortably in the cockpit of your helicopter for eight hours or more.

Seth and I are running clockwise for a good reason – we want to get past the burn >>

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pit early in the run. This FOB is too small for an incinerator so countless scraps of food, paper and plastic from the chow hall, refuse from base construction, dunnage from ammunition, and, occasionally, though not always accidentally, live ammunition all go into the pit. The pit is self-sustaining, constantly burning, spewing toxic black smoke into the air. Sure, the steady Afghan wind diffuses it, but it diffuses it across the FOB and not so gently into our lungs. I pull my shirt over my face and breathe shallowly until we’re past. I can’t help but wonder if there was a scene like this in Dante’s Inferno.

We’re almost past when Pop… Whizz! Pop… Whizz! A couple rounds cook off in the pit.

We flinch ever so slightly. It might hurt, but it wouldn’t be the same as if the rounds were shot out of a rifle. A few strides later I have second thoughts. Maybe that pop and whizz wasn’t from the burn pit, but from somewhere outside the wire? Oh, well. We keep running.

A classic David and Goliath scenario is playing out outside the wire for us, typical for this time of day. A group of Afghan kids have formed a gang in the setting sun and have come to taunt the Romanians in the guard towers. They’re

creeping closer to the wire, telling each other, I’m sure, to act natural. A couple have bolos and swing them bravely over their heads hurling rocks harmlessly, for the most part, into empty sections of the FOB. Seth and I are coming up on a rickety guard tower with a PKM machine gun sticking out of an opening above a stack of sandbags and I’m wondering what the guards are going to do about these kids.

I find out quite surprisingly that the Romanian guards have a sense of humor and timing only capable in a war zone. They see the limited threat posed by the kids outside the wire and know they have to disperse them, but there’s no rush. It’s not like the kids can storm the wire and bum-rush the guard tower with a couple rocks flung from a bolo. The guards also have to be able to see Seth and I making our way between them and the wire. With all the time in the world sitting in that tower, they wait until the moment we are between them, the wire, and the Afghan kids with the bolos to let loose a ten-round burst from their machine gun into the empty desert... Bap! Bap! Bap! Bap! They don’t shoot to kill, but to scare the mandresses off the Afghan kids and the piss out of Seth and I. The kids scatter, well-rehearsed by this point as their game with the guards has

they wait until the moment we are between them, the wire, and the Afghan kids ... let loose a ten-round burst ...

Bap! Bap! Bap! Bap!” 82

been going on for months. Seth and I, on the other hand, nearly jump out of our skin and reflexively look for cover. Of course there is no cover; we have no weapons, no body armor or even our uniforms. We keep running.

The war’s still going on and there’s no sense stopping at this point.

What a way to start a nice evening jaunt to unwind after a long day’s work! Lungs burning from the burn pit, ears ringing from the machine gun fire, we continue as the road takes a big turn down a loose gravel hill. Unburned garbage billows up and out of the burn pit and gets caught in the fence here. It’s despicable.

I’ve had the crazy idea of organising a group to clean it up but there are two faults to that noble idea: 1) the burn pit would just release more trash to accumulate in the same spot and 2) there was a known enemy observation point on a nearby hill overlooking this part of the FOB. The two guard towers facing this direction, though capable of dispersing gangs of kids with bolos, would do little good if the day of the cleanup project someone decided to lob a grenade over the wire. Instead, when we pass this spot, I think of it as a noble yet misplaced idea and focus instead on the ankle-busting gravel on the downhill. No need to make yourself an easy target by taking a break along the way worrying about trash.

We turn onto my favorite stretch of the loop. When flying, we often take off from the FOB in this direction, jockeying for position with Russian Mi-17 helicopters and others stopping in for fuel. From the LZ, you pick your helicopter up to a hover, turn towards the south and bring in the power slowly, gently pushing the cyclic forward to gain speed. The

Guard tower overlooking the LZ and the wire

>>

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ground drops away as you depart, the perimeter trail underneath the helicopter at this point. A small mud hut village full of chickens, goats, and children lies just outside the wire here. I try to fly friendly, gaining altitude quickly or at least not flying directly over their homes, but, like the quant village near the shooting range, we haven’t made friends with everyone here either. You don’t see it during the day, but at night you occasionally catch the sight of tracer fire coming from somewhere below as a disgruntled villager takes a shot at the helicopters. We don’t shoot back to avoid collateral damage. They aren’t that accurate anyhow, so there is no need to push the issue (as long as they keep missing).

Like I said, the stretch between the FOB and this village is my favorite. Not because of the village or the joy I get taking off from the top of the LZ, but because of the pack of wild dogs that often joins us on the run at this point.

They greet us with the unyielding enthusiasm only a cast-off, feral Afghan mutt desperate to display his loyalty can muster. They squeeze through gaps under the fence, ripping off fur and tearing ears on the concertina wire in an effort to join us. Some of them have names like Mary and Star Fox; others are nameless shaggy waifs of skin and bone. They run with us, side by side, pushing us along a series of winding, hilly turns. We are part of the pack, wild canine brothers, as if we’ve all done this a thousand times before. The dogs know their place though, even here with us. They aren’t welcome everywhere on the FOB and, one

The feral dogs loved running with us and got a little too comfortable on the LZ

Trying to ‘fly friendly’ over the neighboring village

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by one, they begin to peel off. They’re smart enough to avoid the main gate just past the next steep descent. The Jordanians at the gate, fearful of the raged dogs, are quick to offer a boot or worse if they stray too close.

With the dogs gone, we watch our step on this, the steepest descent of the loop. There are loose, grapefruit sized rocks dying to make you hyper-extend a knee or roll an ankle. We shorten our pace, pick up our feet and plant them firmly on the trip down. At the base of the hill is the main entrance with guard towers on both sides. A mixed convoy of Romanian and U.S. vehicles is returning, clearing their mounted weapons as they enter the base.

The front gate, with its winding entrance, barricades and check points was the focal point of a recent coordinated attack on the FOB. The assailants, be they Taliban, al Qaeda or merely anti-coalition (a rose by any other name would smell as sweet), simultaneously fired two RPGs at the front guard towers. Fortunately for the Romanian guards, they missed. Unfortunately for those of us asleep on the other side of the FOB, the RPGs flew past the towers, over

the majority of the FOB and exploded upon contact, one with a Romanian tent, the other with my housing unit. The RPG exploded, sending shrapnel through the window and wall of one of our guy’s rooms. The concussion rocked us all out of sleep.

“Jerry?” was Seth’s quiet response to the attack (perfectly disproportionate to the explosion that just took place a few short feet away) as machine gun fire was exchanged by the guard towers and the assailants trying to storm the gate.

“Yeah, I’m alright,” was my reply. Truth was, getting excited and running to a bunker wasn’t going to make a difference. No one was injured on our side, just a little shaken up, and it was, after all, the middle of the night. With another long day ahead of me working on and flying helicopters, coordinated attack on the base or not, I had to get some sleep. So I did.

After winding through the incoming convoy at the main gate, we pass a beat up conex with a tarp rigged canopy-like over the opening. >>

The RPG exploded, sending shrapnel through the window and wall of one of our guy’s rooms”

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<<

It’s a makeshift Afghan store, sometimes open daily, sometimes not. My Afghan friend from town, Mohebuela, runs the shop selling bootleg DVD’s, counterfeit Benchmade knives, stale cigarettes and anything else the Romanians, Jordanians, U.S. or otherwise will buy. If you want something else, just ask and he can probably get it.

I ask Mohebuela about Afghan life. He tells me about Ramadan, I tell him about Thanksgiving; he’s confused when I bring up Halloween. Mohebuela tells me he’s happy that his mother will choose a bride for him, that it makes everything so much simpler. He also invites me downtown to the local bazaar. “You can wear this jeans and shirts,” he tells me, indicating the Western apparel he’s wearing.

“This is okay. You can walk around like this,” he insists. I don’t disagree, but he changes back into his traditional Afghan man-dress when he goes home so I’m skeptical. It’s also in stark contradiction to what Alam Khan, another local friend who works in the chow hall, tells me.

“You wouldn’t leave with your head on,” Alam Khan is quick to reply when I ask him.

I tend to side with Alam Khan on this one. I won’t be walking around downtown dressed like an American during this combat tour. I do hope that one day I will be able to return as a civilian and run, free and safe, on the endless

singletrack that crisscross every mountain here.

Until then…

Seth and I begin a climb taking us away from the front gate and Mohebuela’s ramshackle store. It’s a good climb. The sun is creeping closer to the horizon past more grazing sheep and goats and in the cool, crisp mountain air, it’s beautiful. I’m tempted to wave and shout, “hello!” to the two shepherds standing watch over the animals, but I resist the urge. I wish “winning” this war was as simple as exchanging happy and hopeful greetings on the side of a mountain… The shepherds lean on their walking sticks and stare at us running by.

Both parties – the shepherds and us – assuming much and knowing little about the other.

A unique smell greets us as the trail descends to the lowest point around the perimeter.

Runoff from the showers and latrines makes a grey water creek spilling underneath the fence here. Someone has planted melons and tomatoes in the damp, well-fertilized soil next to the runoff. No one knows if it was some Afghan interpreters, Jordanians or a country boy from the U.S. looking for a piece of home.

Parked by the creek – how it got back there is beyond me – is a jingle truck. The truck is painted with red poppies and other traditional Afghan motifs, the bumpers and rails littered with dangling chains and tiny bells. The driver, a local Afghan, is washing his feet, hands and

The Author, more than ready for a run at the end of the day

I do hope that one day I will be able to return as a civilian and run, free and safe, on the endless singletrack that crisscross every mountain here” 86

face in ablution, preparing for evening prayer.

His Romanian escort stands patiently nearby with a Kalashnikov over his shoulder. He shrugs when I make eye contact as if to say, “don’t ask me, I hate my job.” It’s an odd sight and I can’t figure out why they chose this spot to break for prayer. Then, as Seth and I jump over the creek, I see why. The truck is dumping a load of raw sewage into the runoff creek, downstream from the Afghan performing ablution. I decide not to read into it…

We round the last corner and approach the firing range from the opposite direction, almost completing the two-mile loop around the FOB and I find it hasn’t been quite enough to really burn off the day’s stressors. It’s almost a little sad… I don’t want to go back to wearing my combat gear and toting my M-4 around; I like shorts and a t-shirt in the cool Afghan mountain air, risky as it may be.

“Wanna make another lap?” I ask Seth. He remains stoic but I see him gauge the sun on the horizon and do the math in his head, thinking the same question as me. Is it worth the risk? He says nothing in reply but his concurrence is clear. We lean forward towards the burn pit, pull our shirts over our faces and squeeze in another lap before calling it a night.

The perimeter trail, with all the exposure to both good and bad, will always be worth running one more time.

atelier ésope chamonix - © photographies pascal tournaire et Yosuke Kashiwakura

feature afghanistan

“ Share my passion”

“When I grow-up, I want to be a Finisher !...”

The North Face® Ultra Trail du Mont-Blanc®, is a celebration born from the desire to share the passion for Trail-running, where there are 6000 trailer runners at the start of one of the 4 races, supported by their family, friends, volunteers and inhabitants of the Pays du Mont-Blanc.

August 26th – September 1st 2013

www.ultratrailmb.com

www.ultratrail.tv

More than a sporting event, a true human adventure to be shared…

edsword feature

Chris Ord // Australian Editor

Manaslu Madness WORDS: Chris Ord IMAGES: Chris Ord, Richard Bull, George Chong

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I 90

know what it feels like to be abused. I have been beaten up, physically, mentally and emotionally. Bruised and broken to within an inch of my life. My being stripped back to an empty shell. I have been brutalised. And all because I took up the sport of trail running.

It’s a slippery slope. First you tentatively tread along a ‘trail’, coaxed to the dirty side by a five kilometre charity fun run in a neighbourhood park giving a poor rendition of ‘nature’. Within months you’re upping the distances and straying further from the concrete jungle and deeper into the real thing.

It’s all a bucket of muddy fun until suddenly you find yourself collapsed on hands and knees under a pitch black sky on a frozen path, five thousand metres up a Himalayan mountain.

You’re desperately throwing up whatever alien has gestated inside you. Your brain feels like mush, your lungs burn from lack of oxygen, you’re sure you have frostbitten fingers. You wretch once again and then wonder: am I having fun yet? Is this the adventure I was after?

In a way, yes, it is. Hurting yourself in the bosom of the wildest reaches of the planet represents a cathartic process. That and it makes you laugh at inappropriate moments.

There you are on a trail, in air offering half the oxygen your lungs would usually suck up under burden. The reserves that usually power your legs forward are beyond empty, drained by the ten minute vomiting session; drained by days of diarrhea; belittled by a caloric intake barely two thirds of what any nutritionist would advise when running for seven days straight at altitude.

But in that moment, when you’re staring at spew-splattered rock an inch from your face, crumpled on the earth, the strangest thing happens: you smile.

You laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. At

your helplessness, your weakness.

All you can see in the dark is a massive mountain range sharply silhouetted by a starry sky. Someone stops – a runner who happens to be a doctor – and hands you some antinausea pills. You smell something other than the caustic waft of last night’s partly digested garlic soup: it’s a donkey passing wind. And the moment gets more ridiculous.

To be fair, it started out fairly farcical in many respects.

I entered the Manaslu Mountain Trail Race without reading too much into the details.

Perhaps one should when flying off to Nepal – a country notorious for steep landscapes, altitude sickness and giardia – to go running.

I should have baulked at the fact that I’d be running for seven days straight, something I’d never imagined let alone attempted. That’s not including the two-day trek in and out, to and from the start and finish lines. Maybe the 212km run distance should have rung some kind of warning bells. Nope. I just looked at the pretty pictures of Manaslu, the world’s eighth highest mountain at 8156 metres, crowned in glistening white snow, backed by a pristine blue sky and thought: wow that’s beautiful! It’d be nice to run with that view on my shoulder. Sign me up.

I wasn’t the only fool.

On the rickety bus powered by dust and goat droppings, which jolted us towards the trailhead a day’s rollercoaster ride away from Kathmandu, I met Scottish trio Fran, Michael and Fiona. They, too, hadn’t quite registered that in coming days we’d have to climb the equivalent of eight vertical kilometres. None were trail runners. None had run a marathon (our day number three challenge). None had run two days back to back, let alone seven. And none had been to altitude before. The closest they’d come to anything athletic was vicariously through friend number four, Brit Jade, who had done an Iron(wo)man event and a handful of runs. She was the “sporty one”, they said. >>

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the favourite – even in preference to world champions – they knew that he was so fast that he would have time to stop and mark the course as he ran.

And so it was. Each morning we would be up before the sun rose high enough to start cracking ice on the trail. A breakfast of chapatis and noodles, sometimes eggs, some local chia (milk tea) and a bell would be rung. Off Upendra and his spray can would disappear leaving the rest of us to slowly spread out on trail, trying to run - many hobbling as soon as day two - our way to another small mountain village anywhere from 18km to 42km further into the Himalayas.

Part of the attraction of this race was the adventure element. It was a first edition being run by a first time race director. To me that meant – combined with the fact that it was in remote Nepal – something was certain to go wrong. It was just a matter of when and to whom.

First up, it was a fellow Australian ultra runner called Sputnik, an English Gurhka soldier and one of the Scottish mob, Fran, who felt the brutal wrath of the course. A day spent pumping legs up a near vertical climb, switchback after switchback, took its toll. With runners still on trail after dark, a search party was sent out only to find grown men crying on trail. Even a serene monastery nestled below a 6000-metre peak – our home for the third

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She was also responsible for enticing them to believe that Manaslu was within their grasp.

That belief was almost fatal.

While they were new to the idea of plodding through wild Mother Nature, I’m brash enough to call myself, at least recreationally, a trail runner. And for the first time ever, I even trained. Not enough, but I whacked out a good 50-60km on my local singletrack every week, including a few little inclines and the odd freezing night run. Most coaches would suggest a weekly mileage double that for adequate preparation. And of course, my training was all undertaken at sea level where you’re talking the full dollop of O2, not the 45% depleted gulps of air giving everyone light heads and heavy legs up on 5200 metre mountain passes.

At the other end of the ridiculous scale were those who filled the pointy end of the 39-strong field: Lizzie Hawker is a world champion ultra runner, having won the famous 160km Ultra Trail du Mont Blanc five times. Holly Rush is a British Commonwealth Games Marathoner.

Then there’s the trio of North Americans who between them have racked up hundreds of adventure and extreme endurance races. But we all knew who the race director really had his money on: local Nepali runner Upendra Sunuwar.

The clue was in the handing to Upendra of a can of pink spray paint. Not only was he

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night on trail – couldn’t offer solace enough and so it was that those three competitors were promptly whisked off by an evacuation helicopter at first light, blessed on their homeward journey by bemused monks.

Says Sputnik: “The race medic told me that the decision to continue or not was up to me but that he thought I was suffering from the early effects of altitude sickness and that if I continued he judged that I would have a 50/50 chance of living or dying and that he would take no responsibility. Tough call. I chose life and a helicopter ride back to Kathmandu.”

Another Aussie, Andrew, was the next to test his insurance policy and take the whirlybird home, airlifted down in a state of absolute delirium. The race medic, who was also running as a competitor, explained that there had been a rabid virus striking down locals and visitors alike all along the trail, one serious enough to warrant immediate hospitalization for Andrew. Four down.

The following day scalped competitors five and six. Entering high camp, perched just below the high pass at 4900 metres, two runners – Jane and her Scotswoman mate Fiona – came in babbling nonsensicals and barely conscious.

Almost certainly suffering from lifethreatening High Altitude Pulmonary and Cerebral Edema, Jade and Fiona were evacuated >>

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feature Manaslu Madness

Manaslu Madness feature

TOP FIVE NEPALI TRAIL RUNS 1) Manaslu Mountain Trace Race 9 November 2013 212km, 7 days

2) Everest Skyrace 18 Oct 2013 360km, 11 days

3) The Himalaya Ring March-May 2014 2209km, 51-70 days

4) Mustang Trail Race April/May 2014 277km, 8 days

5) Great Himalaya Trail April-May 2016 1600km, 40+days Information and further links to all events can be found at www.trailrunningnepal.org/events/

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feature Manaslu Madness

Manaslu Madness feature

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down the mountain while the remaining 33 runners took on the high pass hurdle. For the Scottish clan things didn’t look good as their final foot soldier, Mike, was also looking like taking the airlift option. At the final decisive moment he found a reserve of Braveheart blood and opted to make for the pass. On a donkey.

I think it was the very same donkey that passed wind while I hurled my guts.

Which brings us back to my own Quitsville moment. That one where I was wondering why I thought a multi day adventure run would be a good idea. But there’s no use laying in vomit all day musing on the topic and so eventually I got up. I ran.

Okay, that’s a lie. I walked. I trudged. I stopped a lot.

But I kept going, which, I learned, is the real ‘sport’ in this game. It’s not so much about the skill. Nor to a degree the fitness. It’s about the mind and the pig headedness to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

Hours later, I reached the ice-bathed 5200m high pass. With barely enough energy or will to appreciate the achievement, I quickly continued trudging down the flip side.

Funny thing is, at this point the day’s running

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hadn’t even begun. This was a non-competitive 16km trek section, the Race Director deeming the pass too dangerous to run (altitude issues) “and besides, I want everyone to stop and admire the view – if they were running, they wouldn’t do that.”

So, nine hours later (yes, my average pace was 1.8km/h, welcome to the world of extreme multi-day trail running) I reached the ‘start’ line for the event’s final 20km dash.

Thing is, once I started running down the valley, some of the world’s highest mountains flashing at me through stands of forest giants, I started to feel good. I zoned in on the technical terrain. I landed feet precisely. I was having fun.

I was even running again.

This was the miracle of the trail. I’d gone through hell. There was scientifically zero energy in my cells. Barely hours ago my mind was a mess, my body broken.

Yet there I was burning that trail up, getting my money’s worth of Ying after suffering a fair whack of trail running Yang. Mind you, I’m addicted to both. It’s what they call the Multiday Madness.

Video Check out a short film of the Manaslu Trail Race at vimeo.com/69691848 Manaslu Trail Race is on again 9-22 November. www.manaslutrailrace.org

This article first appeared in Men’s Fitness Magazine.

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feature edsword

Chris Ord // Australian Editor

Rhythm of the trail Does the secret to trail running lie locked in the theory of a little known (to most trail runners) German physicist? Garry Dagg believes so… story: gary Dagg illustration: Jordan cole

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hankfully, as trail runners, we don’t have to remember too many rules. Pity the lycra clad cyclist whose daily effort is pockmarked with keeping left, giving way and angling sideways while waiting for green to ignite on the traffic light.

Swimmers are the same, bound by the regulations of their parking lot and the council by- laws of their pool or beach. Not so the trail runner who dons shoes and shorts and heads out into the bush free to run as far long, , short, wide or as looped as we wish, bound only by the calorific and hydration needs of our body.

But while not many manmade laws apply to us, we are as vulnerable to laws of nature, physics and humanity as any others. In searching for that blissful rhythm, that place in our running where all seems to flow and time seems suspended there is one law in particular

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that moves us. We are moving machines, well adapted to the process of covering the earth’s surface with efficient ease relative to other species. Think of a dingo spotted out on a long wander through the desert scrub, head lolling, tongue hanging out, stopping regularly under trees to reduce body heat. Homo sapiens’ sweat mechanism allows us to glide longer than that.

Or consider the elephants of the Okavango Delta, driven by the end of the dry season to walk hundreds of kilometres to find water, losing family members to exhaustion along the way. Not so us people whose relatively lean bipedal structure means covering vast distances costs us relatively little in biological terms. Oddly, when it comes to endurance, humans are in fact more like the Arctic Tern, a 35cm bird who traverses the globe every year from top to bottom, putting in up to 20000 kilometres of wing time. Their metabolic physiology is similar to ours as they rely on finding a particular speed and efficiency, the one that relies on fat as a fuel source and allows them to hold that steady speed for days on end. The ultra-trail runner knows this groove, this spot in the human rhythm where human endurance sits.

It is not an easy place to find, this long lasting migratory pace, especially if one is prone to running in a group, or thinking about an up-coming race and driven by the need to improve splits and anaerobic pace. It is in fact a rhythm governed by a law, one that runners know little about and won’t appear on a wrist top computer or as a smartphone app. This is Vierordt’s law. To paraphrase the German

physicist, his law states that events of short duration tend to be overestimated, while those that are longer get underestimated. There is no reference to Karl Von Vierordt ever running the trails around 19th century Karlsruhe but while his treatise relates mostly to mundane events and has been applied to music, there is plenty to see in his law for running.

According to Vierordt and his experiments on a range of variants, the perfect human rhythm is somewhere around 94-96 beats per minute. Anything under this and people will be prone to speed it up, while anything over it and the tendency becomes trying to slow things down. The correlation to running? Well minimalist running style dictates that our perfect cadence, the number of steps which provides the most efficient stride and returns >>

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feature Trail Rhythms

Trail Rhythms feature

weight is combining with gravity to give you back. This has been the joy of returning to the minimalist running of childhood for many, that the heavy plodding is gone and a lighter, barer sole makes you run lighter and swifter of foot.

(Of course trail running is not the only place that higher cadence has become more beneficial. It was not so long ago that a brash cyclist came along with a fast pedal turnover and spun his way to seven Tours de France.

That feat launched an era of spin classes and small chainring pedalling as cyclists everywhere tried to find the magic formula that Armstrong was pedalling. The secret was not in fact in the high cadence.)

Vierordt’s law has many other applications, ones that may not be so favourable to the theory that we are a running animal. Many scientists and theorists hold that while we certainly can run well, we are in fact a walking animal, and that bipedalism helped us most by allowing us to walk in tribal groups across vast distances and live nomadic lives. Vierordt’s law of 96 beats per minute fits in nicely with this as a rapidly walking human will hold a heart rate sitting somewhere in the mid-90s.

The debate between us being better suited to running or walking is far from complete and, as usual, the truth will be found to lie somewhere in between the fanatics of either side. Those arguing that we are running beasts will point to the nuchal ligament which holds our head steady aboard the neck, an adaptation extant only in running animals like horses and absent in foraging walkers like pigs and chimps, proving our running design. But there is also plenty of research that points to the damaging effects too much long distance running can have on the heart and structures of our body while there are clear benefits to long flowing walks. So perhaps we are a walking species, well adapted to running when we need and using it as a survival tool, for the 96bpm argument fits in well.

The best use for Vierordt’s law, however, lies in what it tells us about time perception, one that runners are all too familiar with. He managed to find the universal experience that short intervals of time tend to be overestimated while longer intervals on average are underestimated. What does this look like on a trail? Easy. “How far to the next water stop.” “Just up here, honestly, I remember it, it’s kind of just over this hill.” Half an hour

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the most energy to our muscles, is 180 steps per minute, 90 steps per leg.

There is no doubting that a faster turnover of leg muscles leads to a more efficient less injury prone runner. Increasing the rapidity of your foot strike means far less impact per landing, which, over the course of an average training week and year, can add up to taking tons of excess weight off your joints. There is also an ease to running with a high turnover, a lightness that makes changing speeds effortless and allows you to skip easier over and around obstacles. The biggest advantage though, is avoiding the perils of overstriding. Not only does overstriding open you up to an array of injuries as it places your feet, ankles and knees in the wrong position just when they are about to undergo their heaviest impact, but it also anulls the energy returning benefit that the arch of the foot allows. The right stride length allows a fore or mid-foot strike which allows the 27 bones of the foot to compress down like a spring. Think of your seventy or so kilograms descending down onto your arch and you can make a mental picture of the energy rebounding, aiding you in the lifting phase of your step and propelling you down the trail. Increase the rhythm of your run and you increase the energy return that your body

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later and you know that Vierordt was on the money. Inversely, the memories of long runs are peppered with instances where numbers on a map mean nothing until you are actually there running out the distance. Many a runner has fallen into the trap of thinking, ahh it’s only a two hour section through there, shouldn’t be a problem, or a 20 kilometre climb, shouldn’t be too bad. Later on while those words are heavily rued and the runner is grovelling, watching seconds pass by like glacial drift, you have fallen into the trap of Vierordt’s law again, and the underestimation of long time.

Where does that leave us in relation to a centuries old German physicist and his 96 beats per minute? The long distance trail runner knows that to sustain themselves through a long outing, a low heart rate which puts the body in the fat burning zone is the only way to run. Vierordt’s principle is that our bodies and mind both combine to bring us back to a natural rhythm, a place that feels right and whole. As such, when we are travelling faster than that pace should be, our systems try to slow us down, while if we are meandering too slowly, the opposite happens and energies go into speeding us up. This is the art of the trail runner. It may be a more rapid foot strike, or finding the heart rate that allows you to glide over single track all morning, but the art is in allowing your body to find its rhythm. If Vierordt’s law teaches us anything it is that we should be guided by intuition and let our bodies and mind find the equilibrium.

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RANT

Column // Rich’s Rant

Face off PHOTOGRAPHY: Jessica Parker - White Spark Photography

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You’re all off your face, or you should be, argues adventure runner Richard Bowles.

Oh, you’re off Facebook for a moment? What - you’re actually out running? That would make a change, because some of you so- called trail runners belong in mother’s meetings, sipping tea and swapping cupcake recipes, crapping on about your latest handbags and fad diets (without ever committing to them) all the while bitching about everybody else in the world.

Let’s talk about something important. Get off social media. Facebook and the like are, for most of you, for promoting something you’re not bloody doing. Yep, bitching about, talking about, documenting about, crapping on about…I see so much of it, so often, that I suspect many of you aren’t actually running.

Or you’re only running so you can nip back off the trail and boast about it to the social media mad world.

To me it’s the antithesis of what we love.

There’s no dirty goodness (not the type I’m talking about anyway) to be found on a screen.

I’m in this trail running game, I’m out there amongst it, the daily grind on the trails, loving the simplicity and rawness of the sport, and right now I’m on a mission of mercy to hold a mirror up to that which jeopardises the nature of this sport. See that reflection? Yes, that’s ego and self-aggrandising bullshit you’re looking at which might make you feel like a trail runner, but it doesn’t make you a trail runner.

Of course, you don’t have to keep reading my rant. Instead you could join a committee of backslappers, or start a trail running feed online, and get mucky stirring all manner of political shite amongst the chattering classes.

Hell, maybe you can bitch about me…it’s been done before.

We seem to have lost the original heart of the trail running community and replaced it with a trail bitching community. Keeping tabs on trail running communities these days is like listening in on a teenage gossip session: “Oh my god, did you hear what such and such said about such and such? Yeah, I know, they’re only into trail running because it’s cool now. They’re not authentic. Like us. Wow, I looove your new heels – zero drop? The colour

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really suits all that scree running you talk about all the time…”

What’s happening to trail running in Australia, a sport grown organically by a community of people partly for the reason of leaving the ego driven world of track and road running behind. It has roots in running that fuels the spirit, brings people together with the sole purpose of just finishing something magical…together. And not always putting it up on a noticeboard of any social kind.

Everybody’s going head-to-head and it’s not just in the latest trail race, it’s on the web!

It’s time to log out of your profile and do what’s important: put shoes on and run. Prove what you say you are (or your Facebook feed claims you are).

We need to add a little something to this soiled running community and that’s a little (actually a lot of) RUNNING. Your shoes belong on your feet and in the bush, not at the doorstep.

Perhaps you think I’m out of order. I can sense some pent up angst as I type this. “But Rich uses social media, blah blah…” I don’t care…you know why? Because I was running at 4am while you slept; I was running on trails this afternoon while you were telling the social media world what you ate for breakfast, what tights you were going to buy for winter, and bitching about someone else not doing what they (and you) should be doing. I’m actually trail running, that’s why I don’t care.

If you can’t commit, then I don’t need to know about the chia muffins you baked, or your heart rate phase, while eating lunch.

You think Kilian eats up trails by bitching or telling the world about his latest seed diet from the depths of the Amazon? A runner doesn’t do that when they’re achieving the seemingly impossible. They are too busy achieving.

Still, not wound up enough to be convinced?

After all, you’ve seen me on Facebook – double standard much? I certainly have my share of airtime, it’s 2013 and it’s how we communicate after all. It’s important to share the view from that mountain you just peaked, the echidna you hurdled on your night run, or the greatest of coffees and slab of cake you had on the way home. It’s motivating and inspiring to see others in action doing what we all love to do, sharing adventures as they unfold.

What I’m getting at is that statistics say that the average person spends between 7-11 hours per month across social media platforms. Another study showed that in 2011, Australians spent 14 minutes out of every hour online using social networks – and that was just on fixed line internet. Add to that all the time on your mobile device (phone, tablet etc) – apparently another 12 hours a week according to a Telstra report in February.

That screams to me whole days of trail adventures lost to the digital wilderness rather than the real thing.

Further, there’s more you can do than just running the single track (or is there?) when you’re a ‘real’ (as opposed to cyber) trail runner. Tell me you don’t have time to strengthen that core, stretch out that tight quad, swim, box, meditate or whatever else you feel makes you better at the true art of running it rough. Half your social media time and bang, you’ve found core training time.

And if you are going to cook up those healthy snacks, I want to share them with you post run, there’s no flavour in a Facebook post.

Yes, we all want to share our achievements; but we need to achieve them first. And just like a good trail session, when you do post something online it’s all about quality over quantity. Make ‘em reek of inspiration (not boast-ification), and otherwise ask yourself: do you really need to be tapping out that post or should you be tap dancing down a trail instead?

Agree with Rich? Or want to tell him to step down from the soapbox? What are your thoughts on how much good or otherwise the social media realm can play in the community of trail running? Does it help or hinder you in getting out there? [And cue the irony]: have your say (or bitch) on our Facebook page www.facebook.com/trailrunmag. Alternatively, get out there and run off the steam. If we don’t hear from you, we’ll know you’re the real deal. Chia muffin anyone?

Richard Bowles is an adventure runner extraordinaire – rather shy and retiring as you can tell, but a man who believes in action.

Check out his ongoing global adventure runs at www.richardbowles.com.au.

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Adventure tourism ConsultAnCy • mediA ProduCtion digitAl develoPment • grAnt And Funding ACCess • Publishing

– our PubliCAtions –

Issue 03 Au/NZ • Winter 2013

vertiCAl liFe

What we're about

PAddle mAg

Trail run

adventuretypes.com

REview take outs Pearl Izumi E-Motion N1 Trail

Great for All terrain, all seasons, all distances.

Not so great for Wet, puddle-filled trails.

Test conditions Over 2000kms, ultra-distance races, wet, dusty, rocky, technical trails.

Tester Adrian Bortignon Tester mechanics Mid-foot striker, heavy pronator, 80kg trail runner.

VITALS

$115 US Information online at: http:// shop.pearlizumi.com

Gettin’ All E-motional We’ve done more than test this shoe. We’ve been on great adventures together. This shoe has accompanied me on one of Matt Coops’ Ultra-Made camps (mattcooper.com.au) - performing like a worn-in star straight out of the box - plus the Northburn 100 and The North Face 100 in the Blue Mountains. Those of you who have experienced any of these events will know they all have in common, toenail-destroying trails. My love for this shoe runs deep so if you don’t have the

stomach for an old-fashioned romance, you might want to switch channels now.

It certainly wasn’t a case of love at first sight.

The first time I laid eyes on the E-Motion N1 Trail was via a photograph of Timmy Olson’s dusty pair taken just after he had broken the Western States 100 record in them. I am pretty sure my inner-voice described them as ‘loud and ugly’.

The big, black mid-sole particularly offputting for someone who found it hard to stray from the strikingly handsome shoes born out of Annecy, France. The E-Motion N1 Trails 106

Pearl Izumi E-Motion

looked slow and heavy.

Little did I know that a seed had been planted. I had to get my hands on a pair to find out what the positive forum chatter was about. Sadly, I had to do so via evil, online import as Pearl Izumi trail shoes are not stocked in Australia.

After covering close to 2000kms in the E-Motion N1 Trail, here’s what I know: This shoe has been designed and engineered to provide a smooth, fast ride. Pearl Izumi’s ‘Dynamic Offest’ takes the traditional toe spring that usually starts around the ball of the foot and moves it back 20mm, to under the mid-foot. The shoe’s offset (ratio of the

I had to get my hands on a pair to find out what the fuss and positive forum chatter was about

height of the heel to the height of the ball of the foot) changes gradually and smoothly throughout the stride. The official offset is listed at 1mm. Is Dynamic Offset marketing guff or the truth? Put us down as true believers. The E-Motion N1 Trail provides a comfortable ride on fresh and fatigued legs.

Trail runners can be weight obsessed when it comes to their kit. The E-Motion N1 Trail is a beautifully light shoe, weighing in at 272g.

My initial judgment was proven incorrect. On the flipside, ‘light’ naturally raises alarm bells for those looking for a shoe that can go ultradistance; if greater than 42km is your shtick. Too often, light infers minimal protection. This is not so in the case of the E-Motion N1 Trail.

The mid-sole provides ample protection across all types of trail and terrain. I piloted the E-Motion N1 Trail’s on Central Otago’s rocky 4WD tracks for 19 hours and felt minimal fatigue in the soles of my feet and absolutely no hotspots.

We know trailites like to wear their bruised and missing toenails like a badge of honour.

The E-Motion N1 Trail’s toe box will preserve your toenails, making it harder to impress your buddies with gross Instagram posts of post-race foot carnage.

The upper boasts a seamless construction, making for a super-comfortable fit with or without socks. My feet are wider than most and I had no problem fitting into this shoe. The material used on the upper is highly breathable and quick drying, perfect for feet-sweaters and puddle-seekers. The E-Motion N1 Trail’s capacity to drain quickly is okay, but by no means its strongest attribute.

The outer sole contains a milky way of big, aggressive lugs. Pull on a pair and descend any type of terrain with the confidence of a chamois, all year ’round. The outer sole rubber feels nice and grippy under your feet.

In summary, if you’re looking for an omnitrail, omni-distance trail running shoe that provides protection without the extra grams, the E-Motion N1 Trail is a fantastic option.

End Note: We recently spotted two top ten athletes at UTMB 2013 who are sponsored by another top end brand, but were running in the E-Motion N2 Trail. Now that’s credible endorsement – when some other mob is paying you to wear their shoes, but you wear an altbrand anyway, because they perform better. If the N2 is an improvement on the N1, we can’t wait to give them a rub.

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REview take outs Salomon fellcross 2

Great for Anything technical where grip is needed, uber-muddy terrain.

Not so great for Ice cold conditions

Test conditions Mostly singletrack, technical, wet and muddy, Yarra Trails in Melbourne.

Tester Steven Brydon Tester mechanics Diesel-like multi-day man turned ultra runner, heavy footed strike.

VITALS

$220 /AU Further information at: www.salomon.com/au

Felling in love With events like UTMB on the radar of late there’s been a lot of chatter about mountain running and the ideal shoe for rocky and unpredictable trail conditions.

When the Salomon S-Lab Fellcross 2’s landed, the editorial team jostled and elbowed in a ‘who fits the glass slipper’ procession, eager for the chance to trial these bad boys fresh on shelves. I won.

breastmilk. Best satisfy its appetite and we were soon flinging them around inner city Yarra River trails – muddy, wet, slippery and mixed terrain, just like the English fells.

I was keen the see how Salomon could have improved on such a high quality and hardwearing shoe. Gone is the striking original colour scheme, replaced by an understated flash of red on the heel counter. This shoe looks all business.

I’ve run a lot of kays in the cousin, Speedcross (now up to model 3), and expected the same roominess and weight. The Fellcross 2 feels more like a pair of sleek trail weapons: lightweight (at 260g for a UK8.5), and narrower.

The shoe jumped of its own volition out of the box, like a petulant newborn wanting to be fed. Only it wanted nutritional dirt, not 108

SALOMON FELLCROSS 2

Salomon’s Sensifit system cradles the foot to provide a precise and secure fit. I have a pretty consistent size foot and my first worry was tightness around the toe box. Having an old rugby injury doesn’t make me the lightest guy on my feet, and my speed rarely harks Kilianesque comparisons but the Fellcross 2 remained agile and swift below me. Salomon’s description of this shoe as “an aggressively outsoled fellracing shoe, with a secure and snug fit to feel the terrain” is spot on.

A recent downpour on the trails proved a perfect testing forum for a shoe originally built for the slop and sometimes scree of the British fellracing scene. It was slushy

The Fellcross 2 is low profile racer with just a 4mm heel to toe drop.

There’s not a lot of cushioning, with 9mm at the heel and 5mm in the forefoot. The result is a fast, responsive feel.

underfoot and some short, sharp climbs allowed me to gauge how much the Fellcross 2’s love the challenge of wet. Like the Speedcross, they do complain and shift on the studded tread if you have to run to a trail head on firm, even ground, but once they’re unleashed on uneven, aggressive or muddy turf the tread bites deep and their light weight promotes oodles of confidence over technical strecthes. If you’re running over undulating terrain, in less than perfect conditions, hold on and enjoy the ride, these shoes grip and get you there upright.

Descents proved ripping with the confidence the grip gave and early concerns about a tight toebox evaporated. One of the key improvements over its predecessor is a Protective TPU Toe Cap to provide support and protection for the dangers of errant debris.

I have often thought you need be ‘Salomon foot-shaped’ to get the best out of the range and as is the norm, anyone with an overly broad foot may struggle in what is ultimately a

performance shoe designed for racing.

The Fellcross 2 is a low-profile racer with just a 4mm heel to toe drop. There’s not a lot of cushioning, with 9mm at the heel and 5mm in the forefoot. The result is a fast, responsive feel.

If you’re not entirely comfortable with a low profile, lightly cushioned shoe, I suggest shorter efforts to avoid injury until you get a feel for the shoe that inclines towards minimalist.

Final verdict? They are a racer more than an all-round training clog. Further, it is not the shoe I would use as an all-purpose go to for middling or dry conditions. But that’s the point. The Fellcross 2 is an outstanding racer designed to bring out when conditions warrant the performance it delivers. So hit the hills and enjoy how the terrain is almost taken out of the equation as you skip over some unpredictable trails with confidence.

Do I look or race like Ricky Lightfoot in these? No, but I believe in the placebo effect, and damn I feel his groove more than a tad when I wear these.

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trailporn

trail porn Presented by

Copping a last ray of light run at Falls Creek, Victoria Chris Ord

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trail porn

Presented by

Salomon runner Gretel Fortmann on trail in the Blue Mountains, NSW Lyndon Marceau www.marceauphotography.com

Whitney Dagg on the Leith Saddle Track, Dunedin, New Zealand Derek Morrison www.derekmorrison.co.nz

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trail porn

Presented by

Lyndon Marceau steps out from behind the camera to get some heel strike in amid the Blue Mountains, NSW Mark Watson

On a recce run for future trail tours, Tegyn Angel skips the lip of Gunung Kelud Mountain, Kediri, East Java, Indonesia.

Tegyn Angel

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trail porn

Presented by

Josh Gale on Omanawanui, Hillary Trail, New Zealand.

Shaun Collins http://cabbagetreephotography.co.nz/

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trail porn

Presented by

Mountain runner Michael Turner descends through the native bush of Mt Grey, North Canterbury, NZ. Blake Spittle, www.27southphotography.com

Local runners Michael Turner and Barney Scahill summit Mt Grey, North Canterbury, NZ. Blake Spittle www.27southphotography.com

Peri Gray steams through oceanside wilderness on the Surf Coast, Victoria.

Chris Ord

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trailguide

spring Spring classics Classics 120

You know they’re there: those pristine trails.Close.Not far from your doorstep.

You can smell them…

Routeburn Track 120

Or maybe that’s just the sweet waft of dirt not-long ground into the lugs of your trail shoes, which sit by the front door — a welcome reminder of the weekend’s mountain jaunt.

But the blood screams for more. The legs are sore, yet they pine for a warm down. A warm up. A flat out blast along some winding, wet, wonderful singletrack. But where to go?

Only got an hour (which you know can stretch to three).

Trail Mag has the answer(s).

Here. In this guide. Each edition we’ll bring you step by step trail run guides, all within an hour of a major city or town in Australia, New Zealand or Asia, all between 5km and 30km, all worth zipping out to for a trail fix.

We’ve also included some post-trail goodness ‘cause we’re human; we’re caffeine freaks too (strong latte – sometimes double espresso, but only on race days), and we love the smell of fresh eggs and bacon after pounding the paths. Welcome to the goodness guide.

Presented by

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Win Salomon gear!

We need trail correspondents! If you think there’s a cracking trail the world needs to know about, go research it, write it up, shoot a photo and send it in. We do have a bit of a style going, so be sure to check out the guidelines and download the pro forma before you do at www.trailrunmag.com/contribute If your guide is chosen as the ‘Editor’s Pick’ of the issue, you’ll win some great Salomon Trail Gear. The best guide submitted to be published in Edition #11 (out December 2013) will receive an Agile 17 Hydro Pack (RRP $119), a stretch fit 17L beauty perfect for longer missions, plus a 1.5L Salomon bladder (RRP$59.99) and a 237mL Salomon soft flask (RRP$24.99).

So go running, get writing and start window shopping at www.salomon.com/au

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photo: Tourism New Zealand

Routeburn Track

4hrs point to point

Your Guide // Vicki Woolley Recently saved from commercial assault (see Vicki’s editorial), it seems appropriate that we showcase the stunning Routeburn Track in this edition of TRM.

RUN IT:

1. From the Routeburn car park the well-graded trail winds gently through beech beside the Route Burn river – keep an eye out for deer grazing on the flats. The trail climbs gently past Bridal Veil Waterfall and reaches the Routeburn Flats Hut and Campsite after 6.5km.

2. Continue climbing steadily through stun-

ning beech for another 2.5km – with frequent glimpses through to adjoining valleys there is plenty to admire - until suddenly you are dwarfed by the majestic Routeburn Falls Hut. Look for endangered mohua as you climb carefully over the slippery rocks above the hut to rejoin the track above the bush line.

3. The environment changes dramatically above the hut. Alpine daisies, buttercups, lilies, coprosma and flowering hebe shelter in the frosty tundra as snow-covered peaks tower overhead. The Routeburn Valley unfolds dramatically behind as you climb towards Harris Saddle.

4. Shortly after winding carefully around the

side of the achingly beautiful Lake Harris, you cross the Harris Saddle at 1255m - the highest point of your traverse. A 1–2hour detour up Conical Hill rewards with unparalleled views down the Hollyford Valley to the Tasman Sea on a clear day.

5. Bare, angry peaks loom overhead while

the valley drops away as you traverse the Hollyford Face, south from the saddle. The trail is rocky but fully runnable: an array of alpine plants and fabulous views of the Darran Mountain range continue to enthrall as the trail descends gradually towards Lake McKenzie, 20km into your journey.

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6. Looping around a perfect U-shaped glacial

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valley, the track descends steeply into dense mossy bush for a tantalizingly short section of technical single track - pure joy for the runner that way inclined!

NEARBY TOWN/CITY Glenorchy, 20km/30min drive on unsealed road to Routeburn Shelter. Te Anau is 85kms/1.5hrs drive from The Divide end of the trail.

7. From Lake McKenzie Hut, the track un-

dulates along the bush line for 8.6km, passing gorgeous Earland Falls and descending to Lake Howden hut before the final short climb to Key Summit.

EXACT LOCATION Queenstown, linking Mt Aspiring to Fiordland National Park.

8. The side trip to Key Summit Alpine Walk is well worth the effort, showcasing unique alpine wetland flora, and providing fabulous views of the elusive Lake Marian, Darran Range, and back along the Hollyford Face to the Harris Saddle in the distance.

TOTAL ROUTE DISTANCE 32km TOTAL ASCENT/DESCENT 1340/1400m

TIME TO RUN 4hrs experienced;

9. A fast, easy 3-4km downhill through

8hrs for plodders

silver beech brings you to the car park. There are changing rooms and a rain shelter, but remember to take warm clothes, insect repellent and extra food if you will be waiting for transport.

TYPE OF TRAIL RUN Point-to-point: requires transport. There is a range of transport options to suit most budgets, see Routeburn Track brochure (PDF, 1,634K).

POST RUN GOODNESS:

DIFFICULTY Moderate. CAUTION:

Make sure you have extra food packed if you plan to finish at The Divide: it’s a 1.5hr drive to Te Anau where you are spoiled for choice: Miles Better Pies (+64 3-249 9044 ) does a mean venison and cheese; La Toscana’s (www.latoscana.co.nz ) generous pizzas hit the spot, or visit The Fat Duck (+64 3-249 8480 ) for a more substantial meal and great selection of craft beer. All venues are in the Town Centre.

this route requires traversing the Harris Saddle at 1255m, alpine conditions apply.

DEFINING CHARACTERISTICS Beech forest, rocks, alpine saddle crossing.

FEATURES OF INTEREST Alpine flora and fauna (see side trips, below), mountain views, Earland Falls (174m).

ONLINE REFERENCE www.doc.govt.nz/parks-andrecreation/tracks-and-walks/ fiordland/northern-fiordland/ routeburn-track/.

BARE, ANGRY PEAKS LOOM OVERHEAD WHILE THE VALLEY DROPS AWAY AS YOU TRAVERSE THE HOLLYFORD FACe

BEST MAP Topo 50 series CB09

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photo: Simon Madden

Yarra Bend Park

2-3hrs 2x out and back

Your Guide // Paul Day Only a few kilometres from the concrete jungle of Melbourne’s CBD – indeed on some stretches you can see the skyscrapers – can be found some super speccy, and in parts techy, singletrack that will fool you into thinking you’re in the true wilderness as you track along the Yarra River, knowing the entire time that a damn fine latte is only a short trot away.

This is also the location for the season opening races of the Salomon Trail Run Series (www.salomontrailseries.com.au).

RUN IT: South leg:

1. Running out of the Studley Park Picnic Area, keep the Yarra River to your right.

2. Run to the south-west uphill on the paved

cycle path and then turn right to run onto Yarra Boulevard. At the road junction, take the single-trail up the middle over the flat hilltop.

As you get close to Yarra Boulevard again, take the right junction, head back over the road and down the rocky section towards the river.

3. Continue following the single trail around

the river, passing Dights Falls on your right.

With some luck you’ll see some cockatoos and lorikeets. As you reach the big intersection before Studley Park Rd Bridge, run straight ahead on the trail and then down the stairs under the bridge. Be careful – this is the start of a section with a steep drop into the river. You should hear the farm animals on your right over the river at Collingwood’s Children Farm as you wind your way along the riverbank.

4. Run through Andrew’s Reserve and continue on the single trail on the other side.

You’ll come up some stairs to the Dickinson Reserve Picnic Area and then come to the tap at the north end of the Walmer St Bridge. Turn around and run back to Studley Park, now keeping the river on your left.

North leg:

1. Keep the Yarra River on your left.

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Melbourne Victoria

2. Take the single trail at the north-east corner

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of the Studley Park picnic area under Kane’s Bridge. Wherever possible, take the left hand turns on a short roller-coaster ride along the edge of the Yarra (more fun than the straight loose-stone path). Be careful crossing the waterfall, especially after rain.

NEARBY CITY Melbourne CBD, 6km EXACT LOCATION StudleyPark Picnic Area, Boathouse Road, Kew,

3. Run up the hill at River Retreat (road) and turn left near the top – this may feel like you’re trespassing on someone’s driveway but it’s part of the trail. Take the stone stairs down the other side and continue along the single-trail.

TOTAL ROUTE DISTANCE 25km (9km south leg and 16km north leg)

TOTAL ASCENT/DESCENT 400m

4. Pass through the car park at Bellbird Picnic area, picking the track back up at the north-west end. Follow your nose through the Flying Fox colony that 10-20,000 of the critters call home.

Be there at dawn or dusk to get the full vibe!

TIME TO RUN 2.5–3.5 hours

5. Continue under the Eastern Freeway, the

technical sections of singletrail with some steep drops

6. When you get to a paved cycle path, con-

DEFINING CHARACTERISTICS

7. Cross back over the paved cycle path and through the gate into Wilsmere Park. Continue through the second gate and follow the trail until you come out at a sporting oval with a pavilion and a tap.

FEATURES OF INTEREST

8. Turn around and run back to Studley Park,

ONLINE REFERENCE

TYPE OF TRAIL RUN Out and back (x2)

DIFFICULTY Moderate –

Main Yarra Trail/Pipe Bridge and Chandler Hwy.

Technical single-trail in the “bush” only a stone’s throw from the centre of city of 4 million. There’s a buzz in that.

tinue over it and run up the short hill. Follow the single-trail close to the edge of the Eastern Freeway until you get to the intersection with the paved cycle trail again.

Collingwood Children’s Farm, Dights Falls, Flying Fox colony at Bellbird Park (especially at dawn/dusk). www.enigma.id.au/hgit/yarra/

now keeping the river on your right.

BEST MAP

POST RUN GOODNESS:

www.parkweb.vic.gov.au/explore/ parks/yarra-bend-park

The Studley Park Boathouse Café is worth a shot (www.studleyparkboathouse.com.au) or just over the river, in Abbotsford, there are a bunch of great coffee houses and cafes. Try Trail Run Mag HQ’s fave (we’re located just around the corner!), Three Bags Full (www.threebagsfullcafe. com.au/) or pop over to the Abbotsford Convent where you’ll find Lentil as Anything (http:// lentilasanything.com/) for great vegetarian nosh and the Convent Bakery (conventbakery.com/) for something a little more indulgent.

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Rainbow Mountain Run

1-2hrs out and back

Your Guide // Vicki Woolley Volcanic Maungakakaramea – or ‘Rainbow’ Mountain – has cooled somewhat over the years, but keep an eye out for steaming patches of geothermal activity which allow a complex and unique mixture of plant species to inhabit the area. A short and sharp run that is a perfect introduction to the myriad of trails in the Rotorua region.

RUN IT:

1. Run up the wide gravel path from the car park. The DoC sign references ‘Maungakakaramea’, which is the Maori name for Rainbow Mountain, meaning ‘mountain of coloured earth’.

2. After approximately 1km you will reach

Crater Lake lookout, with excellent views of two crater lakes nestled amongst bare ‘rainbow’ ridges and volcanic vegetation.

6. Popping out onto a service road, turn left

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and jog the last few metres to the summit, where you will be rewarded with unparalleled 360 views of Rotorua District, the Urewera and Kaimanawa Ranges, Mt Tarawera, Tongariro and Ruapehu.

NEARBY TOWN Rotorua (26km south-east)

EXACT LOCATION

7. After that quad-breaking ascent, you have

Car park on State Highway 5 (Rotorua-Taupo highway), 500m past the SH38 turnoff.

options! Head back down the way you came up to make it a 5km option – take care, both Summit and Crater Lake are shared-use tracks so keep an eye/ear out for mountain bikers.

TOTAL ROUTE DISTANCE 5km TOTAL ASCENT/DESCENT 509m (5km)

POST RUN GOODNESS:

TIME TO RUN 1-2hrs

Head back into Rotorua and seek out the Fat Dog Cafe and Bar (www.fatdogcafe.co.nz ) in Arawa Street, where you can’t go past the Fat Dog Steak Sandwich – or anything else that comes with their legendary fries.

5km out-and-back

TYPE OF TRAIL RUN DIFFICULTY Easy DEFINING CHARACTERISTICS Forest single-track, geothermal activity, steep ascent.

FEATURES OF INTEREST

3. Continue on the main track for roughly

500m to the junction with Summit Track.

Geothermal activity abounds, evidenced by steaming little fumaroles, coloured mineral deposits, and rainbow banding in exposed rock outcrops. It is not advisable to head off the trail into any of the geothermal areas, even those seemingly dormant.

4. Turn left onto Summit Track. The trail climbs gently at first through scrub and some exposed sections where you can see (and smell!!) sulphur and other mineral deposits in the rock. As it steepens, the trail enters increasingly dense bush, which provides welcome shelter from sun and wind.

Broadleaf forest, geothermal fauna and geology, views of Central North Island volcanoes.

Geothermal activity abounds, evidenced by steaming little fumaroles, coloured mineral deposits, and rainbow banding in exposed rock outcrops

WEB www.doc.govt.nz/parks-andrecreation/tracks-and-walks/ bay-of-plenty/rotorua-lakes/ rainbow-mountain-summit-track/

5. Towards the top the trail becomes quite steep and rough, and can be very slippery underfoot in the wet.

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photo: Derek Morrison

Skyline

4-6hrs LOOP

Your Guide // Derek Morrison // derekmorrison.co.nz Derek left Sydney to live in the South Island of New Zealand a few years back and this circuit above the city of Dunedin was just one of the motivating factors in that decision.

RUN IT:

1. Park alongside Woodhaugh Gardens in the Leith Valley and warm up with the 2.5km jog to the trailhead of the Pineapple Track at Booth Road (or start here for the point-topoint if you’d like to avoid all roads).

2. The Pineapple Track is a well-formed trail

that climbs to the summit of Flagstaff (668m), but you’ll peel off after almost 2km on to the well signposted Swampy Ridge Track.

3. The Swampy Ridge Track is in tussock coun-

try and is very exposed to winds and weather so take care and be prepared. The trail heads north to where it joins with Rollinsons Road – a 4WD service track. Turn left here and then take the next right past the antenna and on to the Leith Saddle Track towards Swampy Spur (666m). Remember to look around – the views over the city are truly amazing.

4. From Swampy Spur the trail descends a string of stairways before entering the first sections of the Cloud Forests of Leith. The trail punches out of the forest at State Highway 1.

Cross the highway and you have two options.

Feeling vulnerable? Take the easier to navigate and run Pigeon Flat gravel road to O’Connell Road and the top of Mt Cargill via the Sullivans Bridle Track. Feeling adventurous? Head down the gravel road to Sullivans Dam. 5. From the north eastern tip of Sullivans Dam there is an overgrown trail that climbs up through the Cloud Forests of Leith. This trail is affected by winds and snowfall throughout winter making it difficult to navigate at times. It’s a lot of fun if you’re out for a bit 128

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Dunedin New Zealand

NEARBY CITY Dunedin – you can run this trail directly from the CBD, or drive a few kilometres to Woodhaugh Gardens and start there. Dunedin has an international airport and is just four hours’ drive from Queenstown.

EXACT LOCATION The trail loops up and around Swampy Summit to the northeast of the city then crosses State Highway 1 via the Leith Saddle before climbing Mt Cargill and exiting via Bethunes Gully.

of adventure. Follow the track up across the Transmission Line Road and continue on the trail to the intersection with the Sullivans Bridle Track.

TOTAL ROUTE DISTANCE Approximately 26km as a loop or 22km off-road.

6. From here you continue to climb on the

TOTAL ASCENT/DESCENT 1000m

Escarpment Track that will lead you on a traversing arc around Pigeon Hill and to the top of Mt Cargill (676m). Pause and take in the incredible views of the city and Swampy Summit where you have just come from.

TIME TO RUN 4-6hrs experienced or 7-8hrs for plodders TYPE OF TRAIL RUN Loop or can be run as a point-to-point to avoid all road time. Trail varies from wellformed to 4WD track to route.

7. From the top of Mt Cargill drop back down the northern side to pick up the Mt Cargill Track that heads out towards Buttars Peak (617m). Turn right at the foot of Buttars Peak for the well-formed trail that will lead steeply into Bethunes Gully and the finish of the point-to-point.

DIFFICULTY Moderate. CAUTION: parts of this route require careful navigation on vague tracks that are affected by snowfall throughout winter.

DEFINING CHARACTERISTICS Begins in native bush with stands of regenerating coastal forest with lots of totara and rimu. Climbs through manuka trees into snow tussock country, which affords great city views. Cloud forest in the Leith Saddle is a highlight, before it climbs Mt Cargill and a descent through native bush.

8. To complete the loop from here it is a 4km

run down the streets of North East Valley to the motorway and then a further 1km to Woodhaugh Gardens.

POST RUN GOODNESS: Try a pizza and local brew at Filadelfios (+64 3 473 6232) in North East Valley, or treat your taste buds to the awesome organic food at The Good Earth Café (+64 3 471 8554) in North Dunedin. If you’re after a caffeine revival and some quick and yummy food then Strictly Coffee (+64 3 4790017) on Bath Street or Albion Lane will welcome you.

Need beer and food in larger quantities?

Try The Lone Star (+64 3 474 1955) in North Dunedin. Or if you just want to sample the many amazing craft beers emerging out of Dunedin then Eureka Café and Bar have a stool for you (+64 3 477 7977).

FEATURES OF INTEREST Amazing traverse through a variety of terrain, flora and fauna. Views are outstanding from Swampy Summit (660m) and Mt Cargill (676m). Rainy or foggy days in the Leith Cloud Forest are sublime. This loop can be split into two smaller loops: The Swampy Circuit and the Mt Cargill Loop. Add in the Signal Hill Loop and you have the infamous Three Peaks Race: http://leithharriers. com/threepeaks/index.html ONLINE REFERENCE www.dunedin. govt.nz/facilities/walking-tracks/ skyline-walks

WATCH: a cool photo film by Salomon featuring some of the trails in this guide.

BEST MAP Topo 50 series CE17

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