Brave Faces

Oscars Hut 2 Hut, The View from the Rear.

This is more than just a race, more than even a race against the clock. To finish Oscars Hut 2 Hut run, 105k mountain run in the Victorian Alpine region is an achievement itself. You won't find a stellar field of elite runners here, to my eyes 80% of the field is made up of your mid-pack to back of the pack runner (and hiker). No, the object here is to finish, in one piece, within cutoffs that are challenging in this difficult and unrelenting terrain. And beyond the physical run, is the reason this event was born. As fundraising and awareness-raising of and for Autism. Andy and Michelle Payne have 2 Autistic children, Oscar and Archie. Both the 105k (The Oscar) and the 55k (The Archie, new for 2020) are obviously named after them, and this race was borne of their desire to help fundraise for a cause dear to their hearts.
The Oscars page has a bit of other info about the organisation and where the money goes.

A Bit of Background.

Chris Ord (of Tour de Trails fame) had a number of years ago mapped a fairly killer course of 100k around Mt. Buller, The Bluff, Mt Speculation, Crosscut Saw, etc. Through a mutual friend, Andy Payne met Chris at one of his races (Surf Coast Trail Marathon) and got talking all things running. Andy expressed a desire to create an event for charity, Chris explained the course and things just took off from there. I know that sounds easy; in reality, there have been years of planning to get the first event off the ground. And one of the defining ideas of this event is that it is deliberately challenging. Autism is challenging for the Autistic in a non-autistic world, it can be very challenging for parents and siblings and this lasts pretty much forever. The course is tough, but you are out of your comfort zone for a maximum of 55 hours (final cutoff), the runner just has to deal with that short period of time. This year was the 4th running of the event.

Thursday night views from Buller Village. Good to be back in the mountains.

This year, planning took a detour when the summer of horrific fires in eastern Australia meant parts of the H2H course were burnt and Parks Vic had to close the area and all access to sites there were stopped. Ina very short time (mere weeks), the RD's managed to get to race changed to use the new Archies course for both races. H2H doing 2 loops of the Archie course. Rescheduling any race at short notice is tough, for this one it must have been incredibly stressful.

This is my attempt to document this event (not as a race as I wasn't competing) but as a volunteer, sweeping the course and interacting with the competitors as they tackled it. And added to that is the insight I got into the running of a large event, in a remote area and the challenges that were thrown up and dealt with.

This was my first time at the event. A number of friends had always talked it up as a magnificent event, but it had always seemed to coincide with other events I was doing. A good friend, fellow trail runner and lover of beer Nick Cimdins, contacted me on (of all days) my work Christmas party asking if I was interested in sweeping. Even though I was at the time 3 sheets to the wind, I had the presence of mind to say I'm a possibility but will reply later when I'm a bit soberer! Of course, there was no way I was going to knock this back.

Weekend In Buller

An early spanner in the works for us was when our fellow sweep Andrea, rolled an ankle 2 weeks out and let us know she wasn't sure she could make it. She nominated another runner we knew, Kez, as a stand-in and we made preparations to have her join us. (Later diagnosis was a stressie in the mid-foot)

Left work early, drove to Nick's place to drive up with him. Well, that was the plan! When I arrived Nick had already started packing his smaller car to discover not even a Tetris proficiency would have got all our gear in. So my car it was to be. An uneventful drive, we arrived just before 6 in time to grab some dinner tickets and catch up with fellow sweeps and runners. Book into accommodation then down to the all-important race brief.

H2H race briefs are infamous; some banter, a rundown of the charity work, discussion on runner safety, lighting protocols and all the other warnings about the risks of undertaking this event. a few hours in the stuffy cinema in Buller Village had more than a few spooked and questioning their preparation. Andy gave all the sweep teams a final brief; our job was to sweep the runners doing a long day on Friday (79k) with the short day (26k) on Saturday. We weren't to tell people they'd missed the cutoff, just escort them to the next safe point where the vollies there would give them the news. Back to the accommodation, final packing and preparation, then off to bed.

Friday: Buller to Pikes Flat

We met Andy, Chris Ord and the crew at the race hub to await a driver. Our sweep was to start at Pikes Flat, 29k from the start at Buller. To get there, we had a white knuckle ride in a troopy (4WD troop carrier), from Mt. Buller, via Howqua Gap and Circuit Rd. and a few other roads whose signs passed by in a blur! We had been told it would take upwards of 2 hours to get there; leaving Buller at 8:30 to get to pikes at 10:30 at the latest. At one stage I thought we'd get there before we left. I had elected to go in the front with our driver Brendan, being the one I thought would get carsick the easiest. Nick and Kez sat in the back, rolling around with the gear. Sorry...

Arrived at Pikes just after 10, plenty of time to get ourselves organised and pitch tents. Well I would have pitched mine, but stupidly I'd left it in the car at Buller. So in with Nick it was. He'd warned me about its waterproof ability, or lack thereof, and I'd dismissed it out of hand, "We'll be right!" (More on that later...)

All dressed, packs on, we made ourselves known to the 2 groups here doing food and race control, caught up with the EMS crew and watched as the final runners came through before the 11:00am cutoff. Our journey was about to start.

Day 1 sweep: Pikes Flat to Buller

At 11:30am we started up Corn Hill Logging Track. We had given the competitors ahead at least 30 minutes head start, betting between ourselves that we'd not see anyone until very near Howqua Gap, a good 13+k's from Pikes. To get to the road we crossed the Howqua River, first of 14 river crossings for the day. Leave the shoes on, it's only water. The ascent of Corn Hill does not so much approach you as invade your personal space and yell "HOWDY". It was very warm, it was unbelievably humid for a Victorian summer and we all were sweating heavily within the first couple of k's. Huge thickets of blackberry cover both sides of the road; some juicy pickings for us as we climb, a living nightmare for ecologists.

3k in and we come across 2 runners, heading in the opposite direction. Nathan Fenton and Sally Jane Coggins, deep in discussion about "Low hanging fruit". I was late to the conversation, to be fair, both Sally and Nathan thought they were late to the conversation. I was thinking about the blackberries, they were talking about analogies of easy tasks... From them, we found out there were 2 runners about 20 minutes ahead.

The view on the climb up Corn Hill Logging Track. It was bloody hot and sticky.

Within a few k, we'd caught them, the first team that we'd see DNF. Georgie and Anthony were still moving, but knowing that the cutoff time was very difficult. The conditions were tough, I was already going through my water far quicker than I'd anticipated. The first peel of thunder rolls through the valley, the forecast of possible storms becoming probable at that point. The climb up Corn Hill is unrelenting, that is until it drops back down for about 100 metres before it climbs finally to Howqua Gap (or Mullet Gap as the vollies there had nicknamed it). Before the slight descent we'd caught another runner, cramps ruining his day. With about 2k's to go we turned hard left onto Circuit Road and headed to Howqua. Caught our first team runners again, and all 6 of us (3 runners, 3 sweeps) calmly walked into the checkpoint/aid station at 2:20pm.

Mandatory selfie with Caz Derby (or is that Warwick Caper?)
At the infamous Mullet Gap (aka Howqua Gap aid station).

Howqua Gap saw 3 runners already sitting down having missed cutoff, adding to the 3 we escorted in. Stopped for a bit, filled up water (I'd already necked 2 full soft flasks of water and electrolyte in the 2:45 it had taken us to get there). All the way up there had been constant radio chatter; gear to be taken from point a to b, runners from b to c, medical questions and call outs for assistance, etc. Our communications were restricted to checking, checking out of checkpoints.

Vollies here assisting us for water, food, whatever we needed. And it's nice to know so many of them, nothing like a familiar face to lift the spirits. After 6 or so minutes we left to continue the climb to Buller Aid. Sun still pretty hot, but clouds were building over the distant mountains. The next section has some lovely single windy trail. After walking for about a kilometre, Nick suggested we run for a bit, exercise some different muscles and see if we can pick up the runners who'd left 20 minutes before us before the next CP. Wildflowers on the side of the trail, lush green grass in places then passing through a section with very large and old Snow Gums, it was a delightful section to go through. 17k in and we finally pass the actual Corn Hill, Buller Village is visible through the trees, the summit still hidden over the back. On the way to Buller Aid, we pass a set of old Monkey Bars evoking memories of youth. Kez decides to have a swing, soon realising what was easy as a kid, was no more. Adulthood sucks...

25 minutes before we hit Buller we hear on the radio that Kellie Emmerson had left there as a time sweep. Different from us, she would run at a pace consistent with the cutoff times. As she passed runners they would effectively be behind cutoff, giving them 2 choices; either try and stay with her to go past her and get in and out of the next checkpoint under cutoff (highly unlikely), or they would accept their fate and continue on to be pulled at the next checkpoint. Our job then was to stay with the last runner(s) and make sure they got in and that the sweeps were the last ones in. We dubbed Kel The Kelimminator, she made our job easy!

We hit Buller Aid just behind the runners in front of us, they and a few others had DNF'd here. Another quick stop, down an icy cold Coke (shameless plug for sponsorship), then we headed on towards the summit. The last runners out of here before cutoff were now at least 40 minutes ahead, so we pushed on in an effort to stay in contact. Passed a few runners heading back towards the finish, The Kelimminator having tapped them out. No-one was upset, resigned maybe, but everyone we spoke to was understanding of their plight.

Nick and Kez climbing towards Buller Summit. Ski fields look very different in the summer

As we climbed higher, the breeze picked up, the sun was behind clouds and it was a fair bit cooler. We were thankful, it had been pretty oppressive up to this point. Approaching the summit, 2 runners walking back down with crew assure us there is no-one else there. They've been Kelled and are heading back to the village. We don't summit, no need, turn round and head back down towards 4 mile. We still think we are about 40 minutes behind. We agree that the top of 4 mile is not the place to make up time, just climb down safely and in one piece.

View from 4 Mile looking towards The Bluff and Mt. Magdala

Day 1 sweep: Buller to 4 Mile Aid Station

The first 2k on the spur are rocky, steep and at times quite dangerous. Apart from an enforced stop later on due to storms, kilometre 25 took the longest of the day, 22 nervy minutes. Descending meant the breeze stopped, the air warmed up and the humidity made an unwelcome return. I was drenched, Nick was drenched, Kez also. We moved on to a small saddle where the drops on either side are unforgiving. Slip here and it's curtains. God knows how you do this in the murky dawn.

Kez and Nick on the descent on 4 Mile.
Trust me, there is a trail there somewhere.

A bit of chatter on the radio, then base telling everyone to stand by for an important announcement. It seems the forecast of storms was finally going to come true. Severe thunderstorms, heavy rain, strong winds, and possible hail was the possibility. All vollies were told that lighting protocol may be implemented; this would mean ditching running poles (carbon fibre and metal, good conductors!) and heading to lower ground. Or in the event of being caught in the open, finding shelter or assuming a crouched position away from tall trees. We'd been running for a bit on the more gentler section of downhill when we bumped into Kellie. She was with 2 teams, one of whom had just crashed and burned and also had bad blistering. Their day shot, just wanting to get it finished and get off the spur. Kellie checks in with base, no, she's not supposed to be back with us, she's supposed to be about 45 minutes ahead. Kellie says a hurried goodbye then darts off down the track. We laugh that she won't take long to erase that deficit!

A few cracks of thunder come from behind us, not close but it rolls ominously through the valley. Not haven't seen lighting, we couldn't gauge the distance. The 4 women we are following are making their way slowly. 2 teams, one team has stopped to help the injured runner, along with her teammate. The ultimate sacrifice to end your race to help others. It's the environment and the nature of this event. You can race if you want, but if help is needed you'd be callous to continue on. Message on the radio, if sweeps are not on high ground, continue on, but hurry your runners. We pass the message on, and the girls all oblige, trotting off downhill. Whilst runnable, it's still steeper than most trails and has trip hazards all over the place. Checking my watch altimeter and the map, we think we must be less than a kilometre from the river. After a bit more running, a few more cracks of thunder, closer, then the announcement over the radio. Lightning protocol to be implemented; ditch poles and head to 4 Mile Aid to stay and await further instructions. All the runners understood, the race brief from the night before having well and truly drilled this into their brains. Piled them on the side of the track and continued on, only to find we were less than 100 metres to the river. Caught 2 other runners crossing here, being helped across by a vollie and some EMS crew, eager to make sure we made it to safety.

Back in the valley, back alongside the Howqua River again. Entering 4 Mile Aid I was struck by how much smaller it was than other stations, but it was packed with runners, all having missed cutoff. The Kelimminator having swept through and done her work. As I was filling bottles and grabbing bites to eat, Nick, Kez and I discuss the plan ahead. We are still caught here, not allowed to continue, Kellie and potentially half a dozen runners are ahead of us. Time is ebbing away. A friend from Wonthaggi sticks her head around the side of the tent and tells me she and another friend, Michelle have missed the cutoff by 5 minutes. I'm shocked. I saw them at Pikes Flat passing through looking strong, well under the times. I went and checked on Michelle. She looked completely done in, had been vomiting coming down 4 Mile and was in no shape to continue. I was gutted, they'd both trained so well leading up, but shit happens sometimes and there's nothing you can do.

We get the go-ahead to continue from base. Our job not basically redundant. Runners ahead by about 50 minutes, fat chance we'd catch them, just keep running; it's only 6k to 8 Mile Aid and 17k to Pikes Flat!

Day 1 sweep: 4 Mile Aid to Pikes Flat

The trail to Pikes Flat climbs 200 metres over that 17k. It kinda feels flat, but it isn't. That's the only way I can describe it. The Howqua River on our left, the single trail winds up and down alongside it. I'm at the front, so dictating the pace, run a bit, walk a bit, run a bit more. We are trying to close the gap to everyone in front quickly without blowing ourselves up. 3k out from 4 Mile we see a flash of lightning, immediate crack of thunder, very loud. Kez estimates 2k away at most. We are safe in the valley, but it still gives me cause for concern.

4k in and the trail comes back out on 4 Mile Road. As we walk up one of the climbs, a troopy passes us heading to 8 Mile, packed to the gunnels with gear and runners. It was a bit of a sad sight, seeing that. A wave and a smile from the runners in the back and then it was gone over the hill. The road drops down again, we run a bit more and peel off the road back to the trail that leads us directly to 8 Mile Aid Station. Weather is still muggy but the temperature is cooling off a little bit, a final respite after a tough few hours.  I can feel some minor chaffing caused by the sweat drying and the salt deposits grinding away between flesh. My shoes and socks are still damp and despite the only river crossing being 7 hours previous, the constant sweating meant they never properly dried.

At 7 hours and 43 minutes, we rolled into 8 Mile. Radio chatter had started up again and once again the course was closed. We were held indefinitely here, solo runners not left Howqua Gap or Buller Aid were told to go no further. Vollies immediately called us over to sit with them around the fire; offered us cheese and crackers, beer/wine, even happy to supply us with dinner. Nick and I looked at each other, weighing up the risk of eating, then being told to run to Pikes. We were both convinced our sweep stint was going to be cancelled. Kellie was way ahead with the last runners on the course and was going to beat us to Pikes by about 1:10 at this point. We were basically redundant. The longer we stayed, the more Nick and I were convinced they'd send a troopy and drive us back to Pikes. Kez, on the other hand, was raring to run the last 11k. Whilst here we heard a transmission from Pikes saying it was raining, a "deluge". We were sitting around a campfire, dry as, not a drop of rain and only 11k away. Showed how localised the weather was in the valley.

Radio fired up again, Kellie requesting confirmation that the runners with her weren't chasing any cutoffs as they'd passed 8 Mile inside the time. The reply was "Negative, they still need to get into Pikes before 8:30". Confirmed and understood. We had a laugh, if anyone was going to be able to cajole weary runners to move faster, it was Kellie.

After 45 minutes base asks us if we are okay to travel under our own steam to Pikes. Guess that troopy wasn't coming after all! And realistically, it was an hour to Pikes by 4WD, an hour back. etc. We could do it in that time and considering the radio messages flying back and forth getting runners and gear ferried around, we considered ourselves a very low priority. And that was fine. We left the comfort of the fire and the hospitality of the crew and started moving our weary bones and body. Everything was stiff, it was in the early dusk and we had 13 river crossings to do before we were finished. 500 metres and we cross the first one, the low light making it hard to spot good places to put our feet. We all had a near fall into the river. A few more crossings after about a kilometre and a half and it was too dark for me. I stopped and put the head torch on, a brand new Led Lenser (2nd shameless plug for sponsorship). It lit the trail beautifully. A few more crossings, and then it was dark. Kez, who'd bantered to Nick and I about our climbing ability earlier in the day (we moved quickly and ended up waiting for her at the top of climbs), suddenly found her rhythm and was leading from the front. By now we'd crossed the bulk of the crossings and my energy is fading, fast. As Kez and Nick moved ahead, I was left following 2 headlamps distantly on the trail. At one point I thought I heard voices, looked up only to realise it was the radio on Nicks's hip We heard that Kellie had got her crew in with only minutes to spare, that was welcome news. The day had been littered with a high number of DNF's, many runners underestimating the difficulty of the course, throw in the tough weather conditions and it was no wonder many failed to complete day 1.

After about 9k from 8 Mile, Nick grabs his map notes out and has a read. "Good news, it's not as far to Pikes as we thought!". And indeed, very soon we spied a light further up the river, could only be the campsite. As we approached the camp, we could see fires, bodies around those fires, tents. Then the calls rang out, cheering us back in. And so, at 9:47pm we ended our day after 10:17 hours on the move... I was pretty well stuffed, and half wondering if I was going to be right to get up and do 26k the following day. This had been the longest time on my feet since Duncans 100k, nearly 11 months previous. But tomorrow was another day, make the decision then. All 3 of us went and sat in the river, cool off, wash ourselves down (I could smell myself, I was that rank.)

I was given a sausage in bread with onion and sauce (never, ever tasted so good), a Crown Lager and then a massive piece of steak for dinner. I always struggle to eat so soon after an event, and tonight was no different. A third of the steak eaten, the rest lay discarded. A bit of a waste, but I had no issues downing the Crowny! Around the fire were the sweeps for the 3-day competitors, Mike, Shane, Tom, Ross, and Ngaire. Swopped a few tales regarding the day both teams had and discussed how we'd approach tomorrow.

Nick and I then surveyed the damage inside his tent. Very wet was the initial response, saturated was the outcome of the Royal Commission. We dried everything as best as we could, climbed into our damp sleeping bags and attempted to sleep. Tomorrow, in 5 hours time, we get up and do it all again.

Day 2 sweep: Pikes Flat to Buller Village.

3:30am, rudely awaken from a dream, disjointed sleep, and bright lights. Some competitors were getting up at this time to get ready to leave for 5. My alarm was set for 4:30am, so much for that then...

Rolled out of bed at 4:30am, a bit stiff, but not too bad. Nick and I packed up bags, tent, sleeping mats and went off in search of food. Lots of movement around the camp, many runners and the 3-day hikers up and checking in before the 5:00am start. Didn't want to eat too much; banana and 2 chocolate milks seemed to be sufficient. I felt much better this morning than I'd expected; stronger than I figured, or the feel of dry, clean clothes, dry socks, etc.

Sunrise as we climbed Corn Hill Logging Track with the 3-day hikers.

Still pitch black at 5, runners and hikers are sent on their way, marching across the Howqua River to discover the delights of Corn Hill Logging Track (many for the first time!). We'd discussed with the other sweep team that our runners would be pushing up the hill much faster, so we'd push on ahead, them to take to the tail position. 5:15am, and off we go. Water in the Howqua was warm, socks immediately wet, then the climb of the first steep ascent. This morning it is muddy and slippery after the rain the afternoon before.

Moon setting over the western side of the trail as we
ascended Corn Hill.

Within 20 minutes we came across the first hiker. Starting here, and with every person we passed, we asked if they were a 3-day or 2-day competitors. We were looking to find the 2-day. But regardless, we inquired how they were, chatted about what they needed to do today and how that would relate to tomorrow (The Sunday). Today, 3-day hikers had 5 hours to get to Howqua, but only 3 on Sunday. Our advice was it might be a good idea to see how close to 3 hours you could do today, to give yourself an idea if it was achievable. And given they would have another 55k in the legs today, that may or may not be achievable at all on the following day.
Everyone we passed we had basically the same conversation. Hoping in some small way that we could encourage as many as possible to complete the task ahead.

Thankfully so much cooler than yesterday, still a bit muggy and before long, many competitors were stopping to peel off outer layers and stash them in packs. Caught up with my friend, Caz (Donovan). She and Rachel were steadily heading up the climb, in good spirits and sounding nice and positive. Met our first 2-day runners at about the 5k mark. But they had already DNF'd the previous day missing cutoff at 4 Mile. They had permission to hike out to the finish and were happy to keep pace with us. Ahead of us, on the switchback, was a congo line of head torches, the occasional snatch of conversation, or just some huffing and puffing. I was quietly struck by the very different nature of many competitors. No disrespect, but many did not identify with the common image of people competing in these events. All ages, all statures, seemingly as many women as men. It is part of what I was discovering was the appeal to this event. As I mentioned before, not one for a big elite field, but everyone just as dedicated; to the race and the cause. I was impressed and inspired by many.

Trigger Happy trail, Nick travelling through stands of dead Snow Gums.
Views across the Howqua Valley are stunning on a day like today.

Once again, Kez was having a crack at Nick and my climbing/hiking prowess. I felt much stronger today, no real effects of the long day out. Promising news for me, I have a 4-day multi-stage race in August, and this weekend was a good pointer to my early preparation. As we turned onto Circuit Road, I knew we were at a similar time as yesterday. By now we are letting the teams know they are withing tomorrow's cutoff and travelling well, a bit of positive reinforcement never goes astray! And with a slight sense of deja vu, we sauntered into Howqua again, this time faster than the day before. Ate more here than yesterday, and filled up on what I missed at breakfast. Chat with Caz Derby and Ali, they told us about sheltering from the storm the evening before. We waited until about 8:30am before heading off again, onto the nice single trail called Trigger Happy (beside Wollybutt Track). Still passing teams, well withing cutoff, our job mainly to tell them how bloody awesome they all are and to keep plugging away. Our nearest last team that we would need to chaperone is most likely 45 minutes in front of us. The radio not quite as noisy as yesterday, fewer runners, conditions so far not as harsh and given the more generous cutoffs, less likelihood of DNFs and the need to pick up bodies and gear all over the place.

9:30am into Buller Aid Station, a beautiful blue sky day across the region. We all looked forward to getting the 360-degree views from the summit, just a small matter of the 3k's of climbing to get there. This must be a rude shock to the underprepared, reach the village but still with 6k to the finish line, and another 200 metres of elevation. Bumped into Meg again, a friend I'd only ever known on social media. We'd finally met along Corn Hill, she was hiking having comeback from stress fractures last year. Skirting around the side of the village, one last time slogging up towards the Summit Nature Walk and I was feeling the strain in the back of the legs. Watched beeped, checked it, low battery. Bugger. I'd put on a brief charge last night thinking it would last, but no...

View from Buller Summit. Probably the best I'll ever see it!

Along the Summit Nature Walk, plenty of other walkers out and about (i.e., non-competitors) all making way for our passing. The summit comes into view, and it looks a long way up. Probably a trick of the perspective, because very soon we are climbing the final stone steps and at the stone marker for the trig point. There are books up here, the idea is that each solo runner or team, picks the page from the book corresponding to their race bib number. Because all runners have been diverted from the summit due to the storms, they all end up here in civvies picking the page out of the book! Not actually realising this at the time, I ask one team where they DNF'd. Reply: "We finished, just grabbing our page". There was no hole deep enough for me to sink to at that point!

Myself, Nick and Kez at Buller Summit. 3 k to go, and the job is done.

Grab a selfie with the crew, then head back down towards the village. The course returns back on the nature walk pretty much for 2k before peeling off to the top of Athletes Walk and the finish line. On the way back we catch up with the team of 2 we'd met on Corn Hill, they'd done the summit and were heading back. Both of them had run H2H before, as had Nick, and were swopping stories of years past. It made for a quick return, legs weary after nearly 17 hours on our legs.

Some people... Paul
Edwards finishes the Archie,
in style.

Pretty close to 11:00am we crossed the finish line, our job done (such as it was on the last day) with a handful of people standing around. For us, it was all over, for many they still had many hours today, and a similar time the following day to finish. Also on Saturday, The Archie was being run for the first time. We had enough time to get back to the lodge, shower, change, grab some money and get coffee, food and just relax for a bit. The afternoon spent cheering finishers in the Archie.

Saturday evening was party time waiting for the final runners to come in near 11:00pm.

Day 3, Cheer on the final finishers, be inspired

Hard to describe the scenes at an event like this watching people finish who have pushed themselves well and truly outside of their comfort zone. RD's Andy and Chris make a point of hugging every competitor over the line, and the emotions start to overflow very quickly. Standing next to a competitor, she turns to me to say, "Geez, I wish I could just get the crying over and done with. Rather than this constant sobbing for hours on end!". I knew how she felt.
I was worried about my friend Caz Donovan. A chat a week prior had uncovered her usual pre-race doubts. She'd seemed fine yesterday, but her team tracker had stopped at 4 Mile on the previous day, possibly meaning a DNF. It could also mean a faulty tracker. I didn't know and didn't want to pester the crews to find out. So very pleased when she and Rachel did their victory lap and finished, mid-morning. I could finally relax.

Caz and Rachel (obscured by Ordos meaty arm!) finishing.

And a massive congratulations to my trail running buddy and all-round awesome friend, Belle, for a 7th place in the Archie.

Celebrating as only she knows how, by mixing her drinks!

So next up for me is Duncans 50k, with Belle. We had our arses handed to us on a plate after last years 100k, this is a way to redeem without killing ourselves!

Until next time...

And they got those tears in their eyes
Well it makes no sense to me

Why don't they understand
We're so ordinary too

Midnight Oil - Brave Faces

If anyone is puzzling over the name of this post 😉

Back Home

Two Bays 28k, back home on familiar ground.

It says a lot about the human spirit that despite repeated efforts and a less than stellar outcome from an event, that you would want to go back again. Two Bays Trail Run, like the first love that you can never forget, it is the first trail race that will always captivate me. But like a tumultuous lover, it's the constant threat of failure or rejection that keeps me keen. And so, having come back for a 7th go here, I was wondering what would be the outcome. And given that my record here reads like a pretty piss poor football team (4 starts, 3 finishes, 3 non-starts), chances are... failure?

A tradition (of sorts) at any race is a selfie with Caz.

Fully 6 months out, and entries open. I jump in for the 56, hoping to redeem myself from 2019's DNF. Almost immediately, an injury that has been threatening for a month or so, suddenly flares and I find myself on the sidelines for 3 months. The rehab and comeback proved that 56 was right out of the question, so the 28 it was. And given I hadn't raced the 28 for 6 years, it piqued my interest and gave me a new goal to aim for; not long but maybe with a bit of speed.

November and December saw me struggling to get my mojo back. Runs were laboured, cardio seemed well down and run times never showed any sign of speeding up. The closer I got, the more worried I was that even the 28 was going to leave me shattered and well down on expectations. But, as often happens, suddenly it all started to click into place. And in reality, it was nothing more than getting a few long trail runs under my belt. A 31k run on the southern end in late December was a reminder that I wasn't anywhere near where I wanted to be, it was a really tough, hard run; but I took a few positives away. Firstly, it showed exactly what I was up against, and secondly, it was probably the tough run I needed to get behind me. Have the shit runs in training, not on race day. I was proven correct on both accounts.

I had elected this year to drive down on the morning; get up at 4:20, in the car by 5 to make sure I had plenty of time to get to Dromana and get myself sorted. Long drives to event starts can be stressful, the longer you have to spend travelling, the greater the chances things stuff up. Thankfully no issues, but stress levels were a bit high. I was wired to the max when I got down the start line, and I needed to calm down, and quickly. Thankfully chatting to plenty of people there helped. But as 7:00am approached, I just wanted to be underway.

Arthurs Seat

A huge field this year, so much more congestion than 2014 (a nod to the organisers for their ability to attract a field this size 2 weeks after New Years). At 7 on the dot, we were off. A shuffle, (don't trip on the curb as we waddled towards the start shute) then over the timing pads and were we away. The first section up Latrobe Parade is bitumen, it climbs enough to know you're working hard early, then as it turns the corner towards Arthurs Seat and crosses the freeway, it increases elevation even more. I've already had a few walk breaks, the idea here is don't get caught up in the rush to get onto the trail to beat the bottleneck as I would expend way too much energy. For me, best just to go with the flow.

Friends Nigel and Jacinta are marshals on the road and leading into the park, nice to see familiar faces. As we hit the first of the steeper hills, many stop and walk and we commence the "strategic hike" up towards the summit. Some people elect to keep running, but the effort looks tenfold to hiking, for very little gain. Two men in front of me chatting as we walked up the steps section,
Chap 1: "I haven't actually run on this course in training"
Chap 2: "Have you been on this course at all?"
Chap 1: "Oh yes, but only walking".
Before the thought is fully formed in my mind, the words escape my mouth,
"And what are we doing now, exactly?"
Thankfully they took it as the banter that was intended, rather than the smart-arse comment that it could have been interpreted as.

The bulk of the first big climb is out of the way. I'm clearly not feeling
the love for it right now! Photo Credit: Christiaan Williams

The climb is otherwise uneventful. 3 and a half k in the trail flattens out, turns right and heads through a section with some flowing single track. A few impatient bastards push past without asking or letting us know they intend to pass. Being fairly tall and robust, the shouldering on the way through doesn't phase me, but the diminutive woman in front is buffeted like a sandwich wrapper in a stiff breeze. (Anyone reading this who is a new or soon to be a new trail runner, it is courteous to ask if it's okay to pass, or tell them you are going to do it. If they don't hear you, ask again. If still they don't hear you, pass by all means, but do it where it is safe for all of us)

Caught up with fellow Baw Baw Runner, Dave, heading up the climbs. First Two Bays for him, he's travelling well and I'm sure he'll keep me in sight for as long as possible.

Having climbed over Arthurs Seat, we now descend again to McLarens Dam.
Photo credit: Supersports Images.

5 and a half k in and a sharp rise brings us out onto the Two Bays Walking Trail. A group are there cheering us on, cowbells (hear a few of those throughout) and then we commence the descent to McLarens Dam. This is welcome for all, a real chance to stretch the legs out and get some running in. The final part down to the dam wall is steep, the road is full of loose gravel and many of us elect to run on a trail on the right-hand side. Marshals down the bottom can be heard from the top, yelling encouragement as we barrel down then head past the dam itself.

Residential environs

Pop out on to Waterfall Gully Road, Mark Taggert there to hi-five me and the start of the sections that traverse the residential area in Rosebud. Lots of spectators lining the street, a few shout outs re my shorts (they are a regular for Two Bays), then down Coolgowie St and the first aid station. My friend Zoe is marshal on the corner, quick hug and I'm off again. I didn't need to stop here, still plenty of sports drink, the 2 gels in vest pockets untouched so I head on to the boardwalk in the reserve. Stopped to walk just as a runner came past me coughing and spluttering; either swallowed an airborne insect or fluid down the wrong way. "Come on son, get it out!" I advised (a bit loudly, as everyone else heard me). He was fine.

Through the reserve, out on to Yambill Avenue and another friend, Jayne is marshal here. Stopped for a hug and a selfie, just as Dave runs past me.
"You have too many friends, you keep stopping!", he tells me. We have a laugh as he heads up the road. Up Yambill and onto Duells Road, I kept a walk/run pace to stop my HR spiking. I was feeling good, but wanted to keep it easy until I hit Greens Bush. Still ran more of Duells than I would normally, energy was good. The sun was out, although it wasn't hot (not even really warm) I was already sweating buckets. The back of my shirt and shorts were saturated. Not a heavy sweater, but it was pouring out of me today.

A selection of Baw Baw Runners competing in the 28k event.
L to R: Caroline, Dave, Kate, Michael and Carolyn.
Photo credit: Paula Pettingill (Caroline), Christiaan Williams (the rest)

Top of Duells is the entrance to Stefanie Rennick walk and all the grass trees. The mats for washing our shoes to protect against Phytophthora laid out for us to shuffle the shoes as we crossed them. Only now, in this section does it feel like the race is thinning out. Down the hill, along the grassy flat, boardwalk and then the climb back out through the grass trees. A magic little section in between before crossing Browns and heading up Hyslops.

As I approach Browns I remember a friend said she'd be there spectating. I hadn't seen Chrissy for months, agreed this point was the best vantage point for spectating. She said she was going to hi-five everyone she knew. Bugger that, I went in for the full barrel sweaty hug, all the while apologising for being so sweaty! Funny thing is, there was a Running in the Burbs girl next to Chrissy, she must have thought I was heading directly for her. Most likely relieved when I veered away. It was great seeing her, we had a laugh that it's been so long since we caught up, then I was away again.

Hyslops is always a bit of a chore, but worth it to get to Greens. Tegz and Kellie were there, squeezy duck making an appearance again, quacking at us all as we passed. No sign of the 56k runners yet, which was a good sign for me, meant I was still tracking a decent time. Steadily up Hyslops, lines of runners ahead and behind, I quickly check the watch, HR still under 155, the time within a few minutes estimated for 3 hours, I was feeling good. About 400 metres before the aid station, 56k leaders come flying past us in the other direction. Cracking pace, we are all in awe. Just as I hit the trail of the end of Hyslops, friend Zack comes past in 8th, looking comfortable. Hit the aid station, fill up the bottle with Vfuel and walk out taking a short breather.

Greens - worth the entry price on its own

12k, 1:20 on the clock. Head into Greens. The elevation plot always makes this section look like 2 hills with a general trend of down as you head towards Boneo Road. But it has a few dips and rises, creeks, natural variance in the trail etc. If you're strong, this section can be a blast, if not, it can drag for ages. I settled into a groove pretty quickly. Running all the downs, the flat, and most of the climbs unless the HR went massively over 170. At 15k the trail slowly climbs back to the highest point through here. It was on my training run 2 weeks previously that I really started to struggle beyond here. Even on the flats I was laboured and just devoid of energy. But now I was still running 6:30/k pace and feeling in control, and thinking I could keep this up forever (never happens, you eventually just run the tank dry, but it's nice to dream). A brief shower of misty rain hits us, very cool and refreshing. Could have that all day!

Through Greens and I really need to stop poking my tongue out when running.
Photo credit: Supersports Images.

16k mark, tree down. We'd been told about that online, and at race brief, but trail running guppy brains here forgot... Stop, climb through and help another runner get over a limb, then off again over the peak (190 metres) which heralds the start of 4k basically down, albeit very gentle. Get on the back of another runner and decide her pace is ideal for this section. Keeping a respectful distance so I don't trip and take her out with me, we move steadily along the trail. Occasionally picking up other runners, occasionally being passed. I'm still keeping an eye on the HR, but sometimes looking at the pace and the time. My rough plan is to be into Boneo about 2:20, so far I'm about 4 minutes off the pace, but okay with that.

18k aid station, I slow down, drink more Vfuel in my bottle but don't get a refill here. Realised so far I haven't taken any food from the tables, nor had any gels. Mental note to see how I feel at Boneo, but at the moment not feeling the need for food. Running out of the aid station, on the other side of the creek as you climb the stairs, noticed a plastic cup placed at the base of a tree. I muttered a few oaths, ran a bit more, then decided to go back and grab it. Runners behind me immediately asking if I'm okay (don't you just love trail runners?).
"I'm fine, just cleaning up..."

Within a few k of Boneo Road and still travelling well.
Photo credit: Supersports Images.

Stash the cup in the vest and continue. Cleared paddocks on our left indicate we are a few k from Boneo. The weather is warmer here as the canopy opens out. But it is still really good conditions for a January trail event. The first of several trips and near ankle rolls along here, getting a bit tired and complacent. Photographer around the corner, concentrate on staying upright, smile and keep moving. Not too much longer and I can hear the cars on Boneo Road, then the cowbells and very soon the sounds of people near the road crossing.

Boneo Road, aid station oasis

22k, 2:27 down. 33 minutes to get to Cape Schanck from here; which is probably off the cards. I stop for one last refill, forgot to eat but not worried, 40 minutes tops and I'm finished, I hope...
First part out of Boneo is soft sand on a climb. Walk up, start running at the top then notice a small ache in my left calf. Cramp? The pain recedes as I continue on. A number of walkers along this section, popular to walk the 5.5k between Cape and Boneo. Dodge a weave past a few, catch a runner, get passed again. Story of my day.

Social media name, PB (Personal Best) or Wall.
And the coveted Richie Benaud number 2 2 2 

At the 24k mark, the pain in the calf has returned to the point that I stop to massage it. A group of about 6 runners with Chantele Melchori at the front (the engine!) came past. Chantele asks if I'm okay, yep I'm good. The massage felt good. I catch that group of runners and tag on the back. Just as we start to descend to Burrabong Creek (and a date with the Stairs of Spontaneous Poetry), the track narrows and we get views over the bay. A group of walkers has stepped off the trail to let us past. Suitably impressed with our efforts, they cheer us on calling out our names on our bibs.
"Way to go Chantele!"
"Looking good Stuart!"
"Well done PB or...", "PBor...", "P BW?"
Then peels of laughter as I run past and they suddenly get what my bib is!

And finished!
Photo Credit: Supersports Images

The final descent to Burrabong is narrow with overhanging trees. Following the runner in front, I judge when I need to duck and when I can just wiggle the head. Misjudged one and gave myself a nasty smack on the head. No stars in the eyes, but it slowed me down. Across the bridge, then climb the stairs. I know it's only a few k from here, but the climb up here finally takes me over the edge, energy-wise. First time all day I had to stop and take a long breather. Getting going again was hard, and Chantele's crew had got a good 70 metres in front, no way to peg them back.

Those last 2 k's dragged as struggled with energy. Kept going as hard as I could, the sound of the surf making me aware I was close. Then the first sighting of the lighthouse and eventually I could hear cheering and the PA at the finish line. Lots of walkers here, all being very lovely and giving us room to get by. Last bit of trail and friend Paula yelling my name and getting a photo as I hit the final 200 metres. Then the final corner turned, spectators on either side as I gunned it to the finish line.

The End

27.66k, 3:04:47 on my watch. Given the last 2k, I'd thought 3:07/3:08 was going to be more like it. A huge hug and get my medal from Karen, grab a coke and walk around for a few minutes. Legs too sore to sit down! And being at the finish line was like being home. So many familiar faces, stories being told of success, failure or just highlighting some of the better stories of the day. It was great to be back.

The day not yet finished: Nick and I having a swim back at Dromana, then head back out to watch Belle finish her 56k. The original plan was to watch her through Browns and Boneo. She was too quick for us at Browns, and when she came steaming through Boneo still on PB time, we then had no option but to see her finish at Cape Schanck. And PB she did, topped off the day for all of us.

So, after a bit of an indifferent finish to 2019, I start it off with a strong run. Need to keep building as the plan this year is Run Larapinta in August. Before that, sweeping at Hut 2 Hut, racing at Duncans 50 and maybe a couple of the Trails+ 50 mountain series to get me ready for Larapinta.

A tradition (well 2nd year in a row) is to photobomb a group shot at Two Bays.
Photo credit: Ben De Kluever

Until next time...