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...

Jeremy

Duncans 100k – Value for money ultra

“Is this hill ever going to fucking end?”, intoned Belle. Not for the first time, not for the last time today. 58K into Duncans Run 100k ultra, and we feel like we’ve been climbing long slow grinding hills all day. Except this hill is going down. And our tired legs are no longer enjoying the downs. Every corner brings the expectation of a change; to go up, or an aid station, anything. But each corner brings more of the same, a winding slow descent that you know only too well will end in with an equally long grinding climb up. And no aid station. We knew there was a bit of distance from the start of loop 3 to the first aid station on this section, but now we have no idea how far away it is. And we are running out of water…

This is the story of 2 friends, sticking together for a 100 k race. My story in black, Belle's story in red. Enjoy.

Duncan’s Run opening night. They’re bringing back the 100km!! Opening night special of $100….what a deadset bargain I think to myself, $100 to run 100km….I’m in!! Entry submitted, quite smug with myself at my bargain entry, then it dawns on me…that’s only 5 weeks after Hut2Hut you muppet! A 4,000km elevation event 5 weeks after a 5,500m elevation event….what could possibly go wrong?!!!!

It wasn’t so dire 11 hours ago. Belle had stayed over at my place and we’d got up at 3:45am to grab a quick coffee and breaky before the hour drive to Tara Bulga National Park and the start of our 100k event. 6:00am start with race brief at 5:45. We were both a bit nervous; Belle not having trained and only 5 weeks before competed in the Hut 2 Hut event in the Victorian Alps, me not really having trained and hoping that Cradle Mountain run 7 weeks prior was enough. The drive up was uneventful, the dark streets and built up area flying past as we motored up the Princess Freeway before heading south near Lou Yang power station. We chatted a bit, ruminating on the weather forecast; 31, showers with the chance of a storm. Not exactly ideal, but not much we could do. It was mild outside already at 5:00 am.

Arrived at Balook at 5:30, just in time to park the car, get changed, gear check and attend race brief. Standard race brief, follow the course markings, hydration, etc, etc. Except halfway through the brief, light fluffy snow started to fall, only for about 30 seconds. WTF? Belle and I exchange looks, what sort of omen or portent is that? Brief finished, and then the interminable wait before race start. Anxious, we are both ready to go. Everything prepped, gear, food, training  (well, usually) and now it is just 'get it done'.

The calm before the storm. Minutes before we get underway.

6 on the dot, off we go in the dark. A line of head torches disappearing out of the visitor centre, turn left onto the trail and head south.

Event Day.

I had stayed the night at Les’s in Warragul, which was about 1hr 15mins from Balook where the event would be staged. 3:45am alarm wakes me from a reasonable night’s sleep, enough time to get dressed, fed & caffeinated. 4:15 and we head off to race headquarters. The fog made it very slow going on the windy roads heading into Tarra Bulga National Park, making me nervous we wouldn’t get there in time for our mandatory race briefing at 5:45. We make it just in time to check in at registration and get our mandatory gear checked. Quick race briefing, a quick sprinkling of snow (I shit you not) and it’s start time.

Loop 1, 35k Macks Creek, sweat fest early

How best to describe this loop? 14 and a half k’s down, then a 15 and a half k climb, some of it round Macks Creek was definitely difficult to clamber around, let alone run on. Very pretty, just hard.
The start in the dark was tough for me. The head torch, although quite good, just didn’t cut it against the full beam eye-watering torches of some of my fellow competitors. Chalk up item # 22 in the need to get more running gear category. (Running’s cheap, right?) So I was picking my way carefully over the grassy trail, avoiding the small occasional rocks and general tripping hazards. Belle was sitting comfortably to my left and slightly ahead as we hit the main road down that descends gradually, then even more so. Just letting the legs carry us, don’t worry about the speed, it’s not too fast if it’s comfortable on a descent. 3K in and I’m already sweating under the hairline though and trickling down my back. It is pitch black, I wondered if this was going to be the limiting factor for my day (the weather, that is).

Early on, the pattern for the day for both Belle and me would be set. 4k  hit a forestry plantation and I needed to urinate, badly. Told Belle, peeled off quickly up a side track and did the business. Rejoined the race, about 20 places back and slowly made my way forward to find Belle who’d run up ahead. Around the next corner, 2 guys relieving themselves right beside the track as I run past with 2 women in front of me. Good one guys, it may have been dark, but head torches (as mentioned before) are bright, very bright… Runner in front of me looked like a friend, but I’d never seen any posts about her running here. Pulled up beside her, “Hello Les” yep, it was Veronica! Bloody hell mate, kept that well under the radar. A quick catch up, she’d done no training for 12 months, signed up on a whim to reinvigorate her running, and was in the thick of it as we descended. I was in awe. A quick check on her health after she’d had a few scares in the previous year. All good. I was happy and then moved on to still find Belle who I presumed had sped off down the descent in some glorious haze of speed. About 5 minutes later, head torch stationary on the side of the track. Before I could even make out it was her, she said Hi. “How did you know it was me?”, I enquired. “Was waiting for the silhouette of your calves”. Umm, right….

By now the first faint light is on the horizon. In the near-dark I nearly barrelled off course, missing an arrow pointing left and then the corresponding ‘No way’ sign of the wrong trail. Somebody called out to Belle and I and we retraced our steps to cut through a narrow trail to hit Bulga Park Road and a long, winding and never-ending descent to the flatlands north of Yarram.

It was already humid when we started so pretty early on Les & I were both sweating bullets. Wearing a buff so I could keep my head torch on my head wasn’t helping. This first part was actually really good running…a pretty gentle downhill to get the legs ticking over. Around 9km in the sun started to rise so the headtorch got stowed and I already felt I could regulate my temperature better without the head covering! The descent seemed like it was going forever now, we were on a wider road and I was ready for a bit of a change up of terrain (be careful what you wish for Belle).

One of many muddy hills that just kinda went on and on.

Really sweating now. Remarked to Belle, yep same here was the reply. Very soon it went from gloaming to quite light. Head torch off the head, wrap around the left wrist and continue the trek down. For the most part, hitting 5:30 pace down here. 9K into a 100k ultra that would freak me out, but on this descent, pffftt, just roll with it. 12K down and still the descent keeps going, in some place 2%, others approaching 10. But it generally is a cool 5%. Passed a few runners down here, then came up behind a group who we trailed all the way to the first checkpoint at the 14k mark. Simply a caravan parked on the side of the road, 1 table with water, a bit of fruit and lollies and not much else. Not an issue here, I still had plenty of water and food having eaten a bit, but not needed much on the descent. Hit the flats for a brief period, crossed a fence up beside a private property, then ran through what was once a minimum security prison.

We are travelling well along here, yakking away at times, other times just moving along. There are still a few runners around us, and as we climb up Hobsons Road, a few others join us. 20K in and off Hobsons and onto a path that winds left to right, up and down. There are about 10 of us here, all bantering about the day ahead, full of good spirits knowing it would all be a bit different 10 hours later! At one point we work out at that pace, we are on about 16:30 finish pace. We laugh. One of the runners hadn’t filled up with water, wasn’t even aware there was some at the last aid station. Was getting a bit desperate. Within about 10 minutes we came across another one, quick stop to refill water, then we went down steep steps to start the section alongside Macks Creek and the Conservation Area.

It was fine, I hadn't run out of gels yet. But a few licks of this and the run
would be over in no time.

This section was hard to move through. Climbing, a bit of scrambling, and several tricky creek crossing made for an interesting but slow passage through this section. In one of the creek crossings, Belle got sat on her arse, hard. Slippery rocks the culprit, not her dodgy balance! Thankfully no damage is done, just a bit of embarrassment and some tender ‘areas’.
First checkpoint at 14km we go straight through, passing through a bit of farmland & disused minimum security prison. Little bit of up, little bit of down, repeat for a while, then we hit some technical trails & stairs along Macks Creek. It was slow going through here, I am known for random gravity checks and had no desire to be stacking early on! A couple of creek crossings & I knew for sure I was going to end up slipping….yep, right on queue, I slip on a wet rock, landing firmly on my butt in a very undignified manner. The lovely Aude who we’d been running in a group with helped me up. Lucky for me it was a butt cheek so no damage is done, plenty of padding there!!
We continued on. As the climb crept closer back to Balook, we started to spread out again. Our semi-permanent group of 10 whittled to 6 then 4 then just Belle and I. Walking up a climb (30k, 3:50) I realised Nicky would have started her 21k run by now. Silently wished her good luck.

See, running and smiling!
Photo credit: Burning Harp Photography

Around almost the next corner, in the middle of a section of beautiful tree ferns as we were walking, cameraman sitting in a deck chair pointing a very large lens in our direction. Look at Belle, “Shit, you know what this means”.
“Run?”.
“Yep...”
So off we ran, all the while ruefully smiling at the cameraman. Around the corner and walk again.
We hit one of the biggest climbs of the day at around the 30km point, knowing it was mostly a climb to the aid station now. Mostly walking, we did break into a run when we saw a photographer because that’s just what you do (see, I was running!)
We are conscious of conserving energy early on. We might feel great, but still not one-quarter of the way into the race and plenty of time to crash and burn later in the afternoon/evening. 31k mark saw us hit the start of our trail 4 hours before. In order to have everyone go through the finish line, we had to be diverted to a path that loops through the back of the visitor centre. So, thinking we were 1k from start/finish line, then realising it’s an extra 2.2k was a bit underwhelming. Looked at the watch and the distance run and therefore expected for loop 1 was pretty spot on, so I just kept moving and enjoyed the scenery through here. A bit of open forest, ferns lots of white large fungi on the side of the trail. It was lovely through here, and after 4:52, we entered the start finish area at 34.4k feeling in a good way, and then to be treated like kings and queens by vollies in the transition area.

Through beautiful cool climate rainforest & ferns, we finally get back to the aid station at 34.5km & just under 5hrs after we left this morning. Inhale some ice cold watermelon, refill the water bottles, quick chat with friends who are volleying and we’re off on our second loop. We are both feeling good & ready to tackle the Mt Tassie loop.

I stopped to fill my water bottle, grab a packet of electrolyte, more food, and gels. (I had eaten reasonably well on loop 1, only a few bits of food left, but I hadn’t started on the gels). Loaded with water and food, grabbed a chocolate brownie at the aid station and a cup of coke. Offloaded head torch, won’t need that until loop 4 and grabbed my power pack to charge my watch as no way would the battery last the entire day. We headed out, yours truly with the watch plugged in and charging. Many of the 50k runners were completing the Mt. Tassie loop (their loop 1) and coming back through our area, was great to see so many familiar faces.

Loop 2, Mt. Tassie anticlockwise. The best part of the day.

Les had run this section previously so knew what was ahead so was able to give me the heads up on what to expect. We headed out of the aid station chatting & moving at an easy pace to let the food we’d scoffed at the aid station to settle a bit. No one likes a mid ultra spew!
Having run this section twice before in 2017 and 2018, I was mentally and physically prepared. I was able to give Belle a pretty good description of what lay ahead as we ran various sections. Having stopped moving at the aid station, we were slow moving out, walking, still eating (in my case, at least) and getting the body used to effort again. Coming out of the aid station, we crossed the Grand Ridge Road onto Telecom Track. Eventual winner Zach Beasley is already returning from Mt. Tassie. We marvel at how far ahead he is (later we console ourselves that technically he wasn’t 21k ahead as he still had at least 2 k to go to the finish, so 17 it was. It’s the little things you hang on to in an ultra). 50k runners streaming back down in the opposite direction, so many people we knew. Out onto Drysdale Road (a logging track), turn right and head towards some of the choicest trails of this loop.

Trying to think about what I need next...
Photo credit: Carolyn Gilchrist

Zach Beasley the eventual winner passes us on his way back to the aid station (yep, he was about 17km ahead of us, you just gotta laugh really!) We pass lots of 50k runners now who are returning after their first loop, including Julie who was tackling her first ultra. Trail runners are always a super friendly bunch & it’s always nice hearing the words of encouragement. We head into a beautiful forest full of huge tree ferns, it had rained extensively the night before so was very wet underfoot. 

Cross the Traralgon-Balook road and descend on the Duff Sawmill Heritage Trail, and through a gorgeous wet forest with some huge tree ferns. The trail is muddy underfoot, always is, regardless of how dry the climate is. It twists and turns and under a thick canopy of trees, the forest floor is dark. We run the descents and most of the flats, but as soon as it climbs we stop to walk again. Not an idle walk, we are hiking at this stage. Even though the legs are starting to feel the constant up and down of the course.

Bumped into a couple of friends along here. Jayne is doing the 21 (aka the 23)k run accompanied by her friend Seema, and 2 friends of mine Chris and Matthew (the 21k sweeps). Stop for a quick chat and a few words of encouragement for Jayne, a selfie then we are off again.

The forest smelt absolutely amazing, who knows what tree species it was but I felt like bottling it. More up, down, up, down of the trail here and careful steps on the more slippery parts. About 40km in we head out of the forest onto a wider road headed towards the towers of Mt Tassie.
Belle and I have a few chats through here, mainly checking in with each other, or just passing the time as we climb up the trail. It is gentle climbing, but there are a few trip hazards and slippery bridges to cross. Occasionally, a deep, strong smell from a grove of trees would hit us, and we’d stop and take it in. Hardly a sound, bird song, the occasional noise from animals away in the forest. But it was calming and tranquil. The trail climbed a bit steeper, dropped down a bit as the forest opened out and it became easier to move on a straighter more stable surface. At about 40k we exited the Heritage Trail onto the Calignee-South Road. Mt. Tassie towers are just over the next climb, hidden behind a grove of trees. It was along this road that Belle (for reasons only known to her) looked down at her legs, and discovered leeches on them just above the sock line. “Fucking hell, bastards, get offffff”. She grabs some bark lying on the road and swipes them off. Finding several more on the other leg in the process. I’m standing there, nonplussed as a quick check reveals none, zip nada on my legs. I don’t know whether to laugh or just shut up. One look at Belle and I just shut up.

Whilst climbing this road I look down at my feet…ummm what are those black things just above my sock line?!! Erghhhh LEECHES!! First time I’d ever been latched on to by these bloodsuckers…and 5 of them got me! I believe my exact words were “Fucking hell bastards….GET OFFF!” as I proceeded to grab the nearest piece of bark to detach them (not the thing to do as I found out later) I don’t think poor Les knew how to react towards me at this point, lol!! Leech encounter dealt with, we continue on to Mt Tassie.

Once they are off, all good and we continue on. Turn off the road onto a path that leads directly to the first southern tower, through a grassy area. The whole area here on Mt. Tassie is devoid of all but the smallest trees, a nod to the strong winds that must buffet the hillside. Past the first tower, still heading roughly north to the next tower. Get to the next tower as a couple of other 100k runners catch us, and we catch up with a 21k runners who are taking their time getting photos of the outstanding view (ignoring the power station south of Traralgon). Belle and I grab a few photos, selfie each other and then head down the path towards the road and another marshal point.
Selfies on the top (but of course!) we then descend down to the road & a marshall point, the drop down a steep single track to a gravel road.
After here the trail descends steeply on a single track and then exits onto a gravel road that mainly descends for about 5k. Along here, the mid-loop curse hit us both, toilet stops. Me first, only after running nearly a k to find enough ground to get off the track and not plummet 50 metres to my death! Then Belle about a k later. She ran even further to find flatter ground, clearly she has more specific needs…

I find I am in desperate need for a loo stop….but on one side of the road there are hills covered in the forest & the other side just drops off into nowhere! I tell Les I’ll keep going ahead to find a flatter part where I’m not likely to fall to my death (men have it a bit easier not having to squat!!) Bush wees sorted, we keep going down the gravel road before hitting a climb that was covered in clay like mud. My shoes were covered and felt like a combination of bricks and ice skates on my feet!

We caught up again and ran together again for a while before we stopped and the road climbed up a very muddy section. Balook and surrounds had 30 mm of rain the night before and the road had pooled most of it here. Cloud cover had kept the temperature down all day, but it was slowly warming up and there was no cover along this road. As tired as we were running down, when we suddenly started climbing steeply, and our quads decided that the angle was just too fucking much.
2 100k runners came running down and turned in front of me to head onto the loop 3 main trail. One of them calls out to me, “Hey Les, how’s the gastro?”. Which was a bit random. Just as I was about to utter the correct reply, his mate did it for him, “Fine, and thanks for asking!”. At which point they both burst out laughing as they headed away from us. Completely fucking random, I was dumb-struck for a few moments, looked back at Belle and she could only look at me as if to say, “What the actual fuck...”

We bump into the 50km sweeps Ross & Julie stop for a quick chat (Ross had had his own leech encounter!) Climbing is tough enough without shoes that feel like they weigh 5km each!

We are now at 49 k,  with about 4 or so k’s to go to get back to Balook. We don’t talk much, just one leg in front of the other, catching a few 21k runners as they climbed slowly. Having come this way 3 times before today, I knew what was in store, but it still sucked more than a little bit. Meet the 50k sweeps, Julie and Ross on their way down shadowing the last 50k runner. Ross has a dried leech bite the size of an inner-city electorate, drying on his foot! It looks ugly as. But we got the climb done. Eventually, the angle lessened and we had views back to Mt. Tassie (looking not that far away), and before we knew it, we were turning back into Telecom Track and a muddy path back to Grand Ridge Road. Cross Grand Ridge Road and then we are directed to the path that leads to the suspension bridge. This path is a beautiful scenic route for day use walkers.
Off the clay fest, we are headed back towards to the aid station, crossing over the suspension bridge, which I thought led straight to the aid station, alas, another couple of kms to go.

56ks in and happy to smile for Megan.
Photo credit: Burning Harp Photography

None on it today as we push on towards the bridge. I get a little ahead of Belle and then catch one of the other 100k runners that passed us at Mt. Tassie, Roger Chao of DTR. Finally hit the bridge, this path seems longer than it warrants on a map, and there is my lovely friend Megan taking photos. I give her a big smile and try not to go arse up on the bridge that sways massively when you run on it. She tells me Nicky has been passed, but not giving her much in the way of a smile! Climb the other side of the bridge, collect ourselves and then run into the start/finish line, 54.k, 8:14. It is party central, many 50k runners finishing, most 21ks have finished (especially those in my club, BBR) and it is them and Nicky who come to greet us.

We finally reach the aid station at 54km in a bit over 8hrs. The aid station is full of 50km runners who have already finished, & also Les’s wife who did the 21, we chat to a few of them that we know before eating more food (ultra running really is an eating competition) & refilling our water again. Spirits are still pretty high, even if the legs are starting to feel it.

Jason Rawlings comes to assist me, asks a number of questions. I must have had a case of the ol “Deer in the headlights” look, as he stopped to wait for me to answer at least one of them! I unplugged my watch from the battery pack, assuming that it was charged enough for the rest of the race. Chat with friends, Nicky, got some photos, etc and eat way too many brownies. After about 10 or so minutes, we exit the aid station and commence loop 3.

Loop 3, 29 somehow becomes 34. Where the wheels falling off took out the undercarriage. (SURPRISE GUYS!! IT’S ACTUALLY 34!)

This loop will go down in history as my new measure of how shit things are going in an ultra…ie “On a scale of 1 to Duncans Loop 3”  The wheels, axels, suspension….she all fell off!!

The first issue with loop 3 was that I discovered that although I’d unplugged the battery pack and stowed the lead, the battery pack was still in my vest. Even though I was only 400 metres out, I couldn’t be stuffed going back to chuck in my gear bag. Resigned to carrying it for 29k (hahaha), we walked out, unable to run as our stomachs were full.

Nicky telling me how her 21k race went. This may well be the 'Fucking cramps' story!
Must be an official next to me, has his name on the Hi-Viz.
Photo credit: Burning Harp Photography.

Back out past the marshal point on Grand Ridge Road, cross the road and head up Telecom Track and then turn left at Drysdale. This would be our exact path for loop 4. Heading back down Drysdale, in the opposite direction we’d climbed about 45 minutes ago, we noticed the clouds clearing and the sun hotting up. Bumped into a few DTRs we know, Warwick King, Oliver Mestagh and Veronica May (who I ran briefly with on loop 1). All would not finish, Warwick and Veronica pulled out, and Oliver missing a cut-off after loop3. Such is this race. In Veronica’s case, we met her climbing up a steep section finishing loop 1 as we headed down. She was completely done in but was already content with her decision to not go on. Belle and I stopped with her and the sweep (George Milhalakelis) and chatted briefly. I was bloody proud of her for having a crack. Pulled up short, but not by sitting there wondering.

Up til now, the weather had been warmish, but overcast. Now, the clouds were dissipating and the sun was getting hotter. We headed down the climbs we’d headed up earlier, and thankfully, the thick clay like mud had dried out a little. We bumped into a few of our trail mates who all, unfortunately, would not finish.

This section and a fair bit of the early stages on loop 3 were out on the open road, exposed. We ran the first few sections that descended gently, once again walking the ups. Early on I was looking at a section of trail and wondering why I didn’t remember it from last year. Running the 50, we ran this loop clockwise, not anti-clockwise. It seemed to have a long descent, which would have translated to a long ascent last year and buggered if I could remember that. Pushed the thought away as I concluded that after 59k of an ultra I was not thinking that clearly.

And one point Belle and I are running and she asks me if I have a preferred side to run on. I didn’t. So Belle recounts how a favourite trail running mate of hers is completely OCD and HAS to run on the right-hand side of here ALL the time. If she veers to the other side, he quickly admonishes her and makes her go back to the left. To protect his anonymity, I won't mention that it is Andy Payne. Lest he gets upset about Belle calling him out! (She desperately misses running with you, Andy, really).

The trail continued, we hadn’t seen anyone since the 57k mark, but the markers were still there, every couple of hundred metres. We stopped to take photos of a nice section of the forest on a hillside, then Belle informed me that she was running low on water. I admitted mine wasn’t exactly overflowing, and we both wondered where the hell the aid station was. From my memory, there had been a longish time (read distance) between the last one and Balook last year. But running a 50 you will be somewhat faster. 65k’s+ today and the pace considerably slower, the time longer, and the heat of the day a bit of a worry.

We continued on, running the downs, walking the hills. It was getting continually hotter…which meant I was drinking more water. By about 65km I was all but out & advised Les. Surely there’d be a water stop soon? He got out his phone to check the course & we couldn’t see a water point for quite some time. My energy levels were depleting fast…I was caught between trying to pick up the pace to get to an aid station quicker or conserving energy. Les & I decided on the latter & decided to walk til we got to that aid station. My right calf was also getting a bit tight…put it down to cramping due to loss of salt! Now the mind games began…or as I like to call it the Gollem phase of an ultra. ”What the fuck were you even thinking doing this so close to Hut2Hut?” “You’re ruining Les’s race, he’d be so much further ahead without you” “Let him go ahead & complete the last loop on his own later” “WE HATES RUNNING”!!! 

After a bit of chat, we decided to pull my phone out, check the map on the app. It told us we were on the right trail, but I couldn’t work out how far away from the aid station we were. A bit worried, we decided to not do any running, just walk. That way we wouldn’t sweat any more than we currently were. But, it would take us longer to get there, the lesser of two evils.

67k and the trail climbs again, gently, but relentlessly. By now Belle is flagging a bit. I’m not much better and can hike up the road quicker. This then sets the pattern of the day; faster hiking by me, get to a trail or a hill peak and I wait for Belle to catch up. On and on this trail went. It was basically a road, logging or fire trail, I’m not sure. I got ahead a bit then came round a corner to see a photographer sitting in a deck chair. He points the camera at me, I give him my best smile and thumbs up as he just told me an aid station is around 200 metres away. I could have hugged him, had his babies, whatever…

We finally got to a water point at 72km. 17km since the main aid station…I reckon I must’ve looked like a cast member of The Walking Dead by now. Filled my water bottles..skulled some electrolytes to try to get some salt back in, but the damage had already been done. The next 5km to the next aid station was through beautiful rain forest which I should’ve been taking in…but all I could do was put one foot in front of the other. Thankfully they had the drink of the trail Gods here…Coke. I had a couple of cups to try & give myself some energy. It is here that Les learns from the 50km sweeps that there’d been a 3km diversion at the start of the loop…but doing maths during an ultra is hard so it didn’t compute that this added to our loop, lol!!

72.4k’s, 11:24 (5:24pm) and the aid station a checkpoint on the Grand Ridge Road was a most welcome site. A bit of coke, refill my bottle and bladder, eat a bit of orange and a few lollies as Belle comes in, looking stuffed. Roger Chao is there telling me he hoped I wouldn’t catch him! Another runner (Alex Ritchie?) is also there. He heads off, then Roger, Belle and I follow soon after. A steep short climb on the other side into another section of temperate rainforest. It is beautiful in the late afternoon, a golden hue shines on all the taller trees, and it really feels like autumn. Crest the rise and start the descent back to the Tarra Valley road. It is 5k between aid stations, almost laughable seeing the gap that was between Balook and the first! The final 2k descends steeply through a forest that is a bit muddy, the track winds around a lot and even in daylight, is hard to follow without any marker tape. I hear voices, up ahead, but I don’t think it’s the aid station. Continue on and then realise there is someone ahead of me. Belle is back about 100 metres at this point. I check back every now and then, either see her or hear her progress along the trail. She’s not giving up, just ploughing on regardless.
Just before the end, I catch Ross and the last 50k runner. Follow them to the aid station, scrubbing the mud off our shoes on the bitumen (well, Ross was in sandals, but that’s Ross!) and once again grabbed some coke. Julie ( 50k sweep is there). But this is where Ross says, “How did you like the diversion?”.
“What diversion?”
“The one at the start of the loop.”

It suddenly dawns on me that was the section I was unsure about. But even then I didn’t realise it had added over 3k to our race. I know from here it is about 6, nearly 7, most climbing for the first 5k. The light is now fading deep in the valley. As we start to climb I hope it is not too soon before dark falls. I neglected to take my head torch with me, it will be fun getting back on some of those trails near the visitors centre.

Thankfully, the climb up is lovely. We pass a trickling waterfall, both stop to wet our THIRs and take a drink of the fresh cool water. Spot a burrowing crayfish on the trail, claws open and in a defence pose as I walk up to it. We roll along. No running, the climb is more than enough. As we climb a bit more, spot Roger ahead. Belle and I think that we may play leapfrog with him the rest of the race.
We pass a sign that says ‘Visitors Centre – 6.5k’. “Bullshit”, we both call out after checking the distance on our watches. We reckon it’s about 3 at the most.
We now have what should be a 6km climb back to Balook. Due to me almost self-combusting, we had been out there longer than expected & light was starting to fade. We come to a sign that tells us 6.5km to the visitors' centre….Les says that can’t be right, we should only have 3km to go. I was shattered but tried not to let it make me feel even worse than I already did.
Keep climbing. Lose sight of Roger, see him again, lose sight again. It becomes a bit of a game, how long can I keep him in sight.  I realise that Belle is a fair way behind, so I let him go and slow down to let her catch up. The sun recedes over the horizon, now officially in the twilight. We climb a bit more, then come out to a cleared area where the road has recently been graded and widened. I know this is the trail towards the Visitor Centre. I slow down a bit more, Belle slow on the climbs. Not much chat between us now, just stoic, grim forward progress. A female runner passes us as we approach a checkpoint, 83.6k 13:38 hours. At the time I realised we’d travelled a bit further, but the advertised map showed a direct route to Balook, so not that much time. But when we got to a junction where this morning we’d detoured around the back of the visitors' centre, I thought we should have gone straight ahead. But no, a detour it was. My heart sank. We weren’t going to finish loop 3 with much change left over from 33k, nearly a good 4k over. And, it was now dark. Twilight this time of year doesn’t last. As we turned onto the track, I followed Belle, she had her head torch. But it was difficult to see the trail at her feet. In a bit of frustration, I pulled out the phone, turned on the flashlight app and used it to illuminate the path, not very well, but effective enough for me to navigate. 2.2k of this and then we entered the start/finish area. Neither of us bothering to walk, the photo taken makes us look like we are well over this, can really be honest, both of us were. 87K, 14:28 hours and we still have at least 21k to go. Finish before midnight now starting to look well out of reach.

I had my head torch but Les didn’t…so we made do with the light of mine & Les’s phone light. I now told Les to continue on & do Loop 4 ahead of me…he said no, we agreed to do this together & we will. I zombie death marched into the aid station at 87km in the pitch black…we’d been out there for almost 14.5 hours. Watermelon, soup, refill water bottles…my beautiful friends Em & Caz tried their best to lift my spirits, feeding me hot soup & Coke. Right, let's get this fucker done. I grab my poles as I know I’ll need them to get me through this next loop and we head out.

86k at what should be 79k of or run. And this pretty much sums up how we both felt.
Zoom in and check out Belle's 'Death Stare' towards Matty V!!
Photo credit: Burning Harp Photography

Before we’d reached the end of the loop, Belle had told me to head on and leave for loop 4. It had echoes of Caz and myself in Tarawera last year. And like then, my reply was that we were sticking together. We’d made a pact well before today, we would finish together, whatever was to come.
Once again, Matt was there to greet us. Megan taking photos and coming over to chat. I also remember Em Fisher and Caz Donovan, mainly because I’ve seen photos. Helen Orr got us both some pumpkin soup. Beyond that, I don't recall anyone else, or anything else other than Belle and I  ourselves out of that little bit of an oasis. That was the toughest part, leaving that. But worse was to come…

A lighter moment before we headed back out into the night. (Lighter
moment being that we realise we are not dead)
Photo credit: Burning Harp Photography.

Halfway through loop 3, I’d noticed that my feet were hurting. Then I’d thought it was just time on my feet in newish shoes. Now I was sure it was from having wet feet earlier in the day. The pain wasn’t bad, but I was quite uncomfortable, the more I moved, the more I could feel it. Belle had grabbed poles, her calf was really sore and she thought she might have strained it. As we were about to leave, I hoped none of this would derail our progress.

Loop 4. Mt. Tassie clockwise. In the dark; mentally, physically and in reality.

We walk out, Belle decides to call her husband to check and to let him know about our progress. Comatose would be a good summary. I kept moving, slowly so as not to leave Belle, but enough that I wasn’t standing still. Got to the marshalling point, crossed Grand RidgeRroad and headed up Telecom Track, just as the female winner came back in the opposite direction. Certain that Belle knew where to go, I headed up Telecom for a few hundred metres and then waited as a runner came down the track towards me. It was Jason Rawlings, pacing for Annie Darcy. My friend Annie was going to podium in 2nd place, I was ecstatic, gave her a hug as she ran off.

I’m not in a good way. I decide to stop & message Paul back home a couple of km in once I get some reception to let him know I’m still a fair way off finishing. I get to the marshall point & they tell me to “head up the road”. I’m pretty sure I was delirious at this stage & started heading up the road., passing the trail I should’ve gone on. I knew we didn’t come down a road when we did this loop in reverse so why I headed up I don’t know. I really started to panic now….calling out Les’s name. After a couple of hundred metres I head back down the road… totally overwhelmed & in tears by now. I finally find Les at the start of the trail I should’ve taken. The poor bastard is beside himself with worry & blaming himself. After a few deep breaths, I calm myself enough to keep going, reassuring him it wasn’t his fault. After this little meltdown, I actually start to feel better…well except for that tight calf that is now really giving me grief.

Belle smashing coke and soup!
Photo credit: Em Fisher

Then I heard Belle calling my name. Called back, but she didn’t hear me. I started walking back, expecting to see her coming up around the corner. Nope. I kept going, on the edge of panic. I turn the last corner, the entrance to the track I’ve just run up ahead, the road just beyond when I hear her call out again. This time from behind me and the urgency and panic in her voice cannot be masked. I run as fast as my fatigued legs could carry me back to the marshal point and tell them a runner is missing. They immediately grab torches and we head up the road. I call out her name, and she replies. Thankfully closer as she is heading back towards us as we stand at the foot of Telecom track. She comes into view of the torches, face screwed up, in tears and trying hard not to cry. A part of me broke inside. I was supposed to be looking out for her, and I stupidly let her go off-course. At night,  with over 20k to go there was a fair amount of “fuck this shit”, this wasn’t in the script of our day, and certainly not now, not at this point of the race. She assured me she was fine, and we continued on. I vowed to myself not to let that happen again.



We turn left onto Drysdale, one last time today. Now in the dark, so different to 6 hours previously. The trail has dried out even in that short amount of time, and with the cooler nighttime air, we feel better and a little more energetic. Quite possibly also having food and soup back at Balook. Pass the turn to loop 3, but keep going on our now clockwise path towards Mt. Tassie. Hit the bottom, then we know we have a 5k climb. By now, no running at all, just hiking on this section. I stride up, slowly peeling away from Belle settling into what I thought was going to be a straightforward last loop. Then, headtorch went dead. I was in total darkness with only the faint silhouette of Belle's torch behind me. It was if I'd turned it off. Hit the switch, it turns back on, stays on and I wonder why it did it. Think no more of it. Until 30 minutes later, darkness again. Shit, what's going on here? A kilometre later, my watch beeps low battery. Usually, this gives me a clue that within 30 minutes I will run out of battery completely. No way are we going to finish in that time. So, looks like I'll have to get the rest on the app on my phone. A bit mentally pissed off at this point, wait for Belle to catch up, needed to just walk with her for a bit. Then almost immediately, watch beeps one final time and that's it, all over Red Rover. 95k's. Stop, grab the phone and start up the app to record me. And discover I'm still carrying the battery pack from loop 2. Still forgot to get shot of it at the last stop at Balook. A minute later, head torch goes out again. Spiffing, just spiffing. Fucking technology...

With one of my besties, Caz.
I look half asleep. I probably wish I was tucked
up in bed at this time of night.
Photo credit: Em Fisher

The poles are definitely helping me keep a better pace though. We hit the bottom of Mt Tassie and get ready for the 5km climb. Lots of hiking the shit out of here. 

After a long time on that road, we reach the turn-off, and a short section of single track that leads us to the marshal point adjacent to Mt. Tassie. 96k, 10:18pm and the wind is blowing briskly up here on this exposed section where the marshal point is located. A voice calls out to me, Becky Matthews, BBR and Duncans vollie co-ordinator. She comes over to see how I'm going. Okay, is pretty much the summation. Tired, getting cold at the aid station.
At 96km we hit the marshall point, cross the road & start the climb up to the towers. Umm, where the fuck is the trail? We can’t see any markers. We decide to go up a very steep trail & hope for the best! Eventually, it links up to the trail we’re meant to be on and we reach the towers. 
We head off, one of the vollies shining a torch down the road we have to cross so we can locate the path on the other side with the reflective tape. I knew where we were going but thanked him anyway. Well, I thought I knew. Got off the road, turned the corner on the trail and then completely lost sight of any markers at all. Reflective or otherwise. Belle and I stop, shine our torches around, but can't see shit. There is a path directly in front of us, but no tape. I climb up and spy a path heading right, and directly at the top of the hill is the first tower. "This way", I tell Belle, and we climb directly towards the tower. As we near the top, a path on the left appears and we see directional arrows. Yep, off course for about 300 metres! The wind is blowing vigorously up here. I'd stowed my thermal top in the pack for this loop, contemplated getting it out and putting on, but knew it wasn't long up here before we would descend and get shelter. Across the top, past the second group of towers and then we were heading back towards the Calignee South Road. We were about 20 metres apart when this terrific noise of an animal crashing through the bush on our left. "What the fuck was that?", Belle asked. "Marsupial" was my quick reply. In truth, it sounded like a fucking Bison. Not the characteristic sound of a kanga or wallaby thumping the ground.
Some beast of the night in the long grass scares the shit out me…as Les said it was probably a “marsupial” but at that point it sounded like something that was coming to eat me! 
Turn onto the road, pass the point of Belle leech incident of many hours before, and head roughly east before turning off into the forest. So different through here at night. Mt. Tassie is the highest point on the course, not just this loop, and we know it is basically a straight descent towards Balook, albeit with a few climbs chucked in for good measure. My head torch goes off again, for the tenth time in the last hour. Turn it back on. 30 seconds later it goes out again. Fuck, really? Just so over this shit. Turn it on, it lasts for maybe a minute, goes off again. Next 10 minutes this pattern is repeated so much that I eventually take the shitty thing off my head and wrap it on my wrist with my thumb poised on the on/off switch so I can keep the light going. I finish the race this way. But once I get moving again, and I'm in some sort of rhythm of moving, light off, light back on again, I calm down and just immerse myself in the surroundings. As the path twists and turns and descends, the forest canopy closes in, and it really is dark, and very silent. I can see Belle's head torch behind me, anywhere between 50 to 100 metres and I can clearly hear her footsteps and poles hitting the ground. I move on, let my mind wander for a bit, taking away the feel of the pain in my feet, which by now is quite painful.

At some point I know I have been daydreaming, or the nighttime equivalent. My mind has taken to making dumb sayings like "I run, long run" in much the vain of "James, James Bond". Shit, at one point I even did it in Sean Connery's voice... I must have either closed my eyes or got so distracted I suddenly came to, standing in front of a whole bunch of hazard tape that marked the approach to a wooden bridge. I was just standing there, but it was like I'd been jolted out of a dream. I realised where I was and was scared I'd left Belle again, shot around to look behind me, only to see her head torch 30 metres behind. I was a bit shaken up but moved off before she saw me and my face betrayed the fact that I was shitting bricks, just casually. Across the bridge, and the path steepens up again and I think we are not too far away from the end. I hear voices again, but thankfully not in my head. An aid station up on the Traralgon-Balook Road, music also pumping out. But, as is the case in the bush at night, those voices and music were at least 1k away. Or so it seemed.

The next few kms I don’t remember a whole lot, except that I just wanted to finish. I keep hearing voices in the forest thinking I’m losing my tiny mind….turns out they were aid station voices, the trail twisted & turned that much that we’d be in line with it then away from it. We finally get to that aid station at 103km, I remember pumping music & the guys there being awesome & trying to lift our spirits, telling us we were looking strong! LIES!!! 4km to go still and we were just near midnight.

Aid station had a fire pit, that alone was making it a struggle to leave. It is 10 minutes to midnight, we are about to clock over 18 hours. We beyond my bedtime. Belle looks done in, but as we leave to climb back up to Drysdale Road, she just gets her head down and hikes up the climb. I wait for her at the top, then we continue up the road towards Telecom Track. I didn't know it at the time, but we are already at 104k of our 100k race, but I do know we have about 3k to go. One final trek down Telecom, my head torch on and off like a strobe light. If it wasn't for the fact that I needed it to get home, it would have been smashed against a tree and thrown into the pack. Grand Ridge Road, marshal point and then we are heading to home via the suspension bridge.
Forward is a pace, forward is a pace was my mantra now. Back over the suspension bridge, we just walk now. Neither of us feels any need to run.
The climb back up from the bridge is in silence, we just walk and get ourselves back to the finish. Then, after 18+ hours we spot the lights of the finish area, hear the music. Just before the last corner, we decide to run it in. No more than 50 metres, but it was enough. Then, it's over. 107.1k, 18:38 hours, and 2 stuffed and sore bodies. We stop, I pull the phone out to turn off the app, glance over at Belle who has stopped her watch and then turns and gives me a look as if to say, "What the fuck...". The finish line video shows this little by-play.

Finish line video and that stare by Belle!
Video credit: Matt Veenstra

Finally, we see the finish area lights & hear the music & run the last 50m in. 18:38hrs & 108km later we are DONE. Legend Matty V is there to present us with our finishers haul…belt buckle, finishers towel, stubby holder & buff (extra goodies for extra kms is fair right?) Duncans’ mum Helen comes & gives us a hug…I in my delirium ask if we’re last, lol! No, still 5 people out there! Helen then gets us some soup which tastes like unicorn tears. We change out of our feral stinky gear (that towel came in handy creating a little “modesty” screen!) into some warm clothes. Thank God for Matt who is driving us back to Warragul. WE ARE SPENT.

Matt is there to present us with our finishers towel and buckle (tastefully wrapped in a stubby holder), a shake of the hand from Travis (RD) and Helen Orr came and gave us both a hug. First question Belle asks is, "are we last?". No, we aren't, still 5 others out on course. But there has been a reasonable DNF rate, a testament to this course and the day. My feet are killing me, I'm scared to take shoes off. A: the smell, B: to see what state they are actually in. The answer to both is the same, horrible. Thankfully we have arranged for Matt to drive us home, after a long day (few days) for him, we were and are still mightly grateful that he did this.

Drive home, get back there at about 2:00 am, I don't sleep until 3:00am, nearly a 24 hour day. And I don't surface until 11:30.

The Wash-Up

• 100 is not an easy undertaking. Add in a serious bit of climbing, and the effort required increases significantly. Add in the extra unplanned and unknown distance, and the mental side takes a hammering.
• Not preparing for a 100 shows up very quickly. Belle and I knew that long before race day.
• We both have bucket loads of mental toughness.
• 18 plus hours and we are both still talking to one another. And in spite of the tough day, I'm sure both of us wouldn't hesitate to front up again and support each other.
• Belle has come up with a new term to describe the level of how shit things get in an ultra. 'From a scale of 1 to Duncans loop 3!"
• As stupidly tough as that was, in the following days we both messaged each other and said pretty much the same thing, "So considering how long we took, and the fact that we are not dead, makes a miler look not so daunting...". We have both at various times said that if we talk about doing a miler, to slap each other. There is a reason that form of comedy is called slapstick.
• A week and a half later, I can finally run again.

Reflecting on the race, it was brutal & certainly didn’t go to plan. Should I have done it so close to Hut2Hut? Probably not, but I did. And it ended up being the longest distance & time on my feet so far, which I guess is a pretty epic achievement. I couldn’t have got through it without Les and I’ll be forever grateful he stuck with me. And that tight calf? No injury, just a little old bacterial infection from the leech bites! Turns out you shouldn’t pull them off as they leave their mandible behind, causing said infection. Doc thinks poison travelled up to the lymph node behind my knee, causing my whole calf to swell. It took a week for the swelling to subside but I’m back running. 

ULTRA RUNNING IS FUN GUYS!!! AHA HA HA!!

The Rest of the Year

Puffing Billy
Some Trails+
Maybe Surf Coast Trail Marathon
Some Trail Running series
Wonderland 36
SCC 50 in a team relay
Melbourne Marathon (and probably a few road races leading up to focus on road running)

Until next time...

Baw Baw Runners group shot before the 21k race.
Photo credit: Carolyn Gilchrist.