Dolomiti di Brenta race 2016

Scrambling up the steep scree slope leading to the final pass at Bocca di Brenta, one of the mountain safety guides called my name, “from New Zealand?” yes, “a lawyer?”, yes, “I am a lawyer too!”.  It was hard to maintain a footing with the rocks sliding under my feet, but I was able to brace myself with my poles and shake his hand.  It wasn’t far to the top he said, maybe 25 minutes.

It was a nice moment, at one of the toughest parts of the course.  I was somewhat of a curiosity - one of only a few non-Italians in the race and probably the only one from the southern hemisphere.  How did I find out about the race, Herbert was curious to know when I registered?  I was travelling to Europe in September and wanted to run a race in the mountains. I knew of the Dolomites’ reputation and this was a great choice.

This was year one of the DBT.  A year zero was held in 2015 to test out the course and race organisation.  There were 300 entered in the 64km race and the same number in the 45km race.  I was participating in the 64km with 4200m+.  It had the ambiance of a local race, low key and down to earth, but in a stunning setting. 

The race was at the start of September.  It begins and ends in Molveno, a small lakeside village in the Dolomites, in Trentino in north-eastern Italy.  This year’s Giro d’Italia had passed through the area.  The riders would have strained to climb the hills and thrilled at the descents.  The weather forecast for the race day was good, we were told at the briefing, with thunderstorms around the area in the late afternoon.  This meant we would have a good view of the mountains.

There were three main passes to climb, each at around 2300-2500m.  Molveno was at about 800m and the first ascent was about 1500m+, with the other two passes involving less climb and a long descent at the very end of about 1700m- down to Molveno.  With each pass came a new landscape and a new set of experiences.  We would roughly circumnavigate the Cima Brenta mountain range, an area rich in mountaineering history and a UNESCO world heritage site. 

The race began at 6am and we climbed gently on a wooded trail alongside the river on the way up to the neighbouring village of Andalo.  The sky started to lighten by the time I reached Andalo and the serious climbing began up through the Polsa forest.  The rising sun cast an orange glow through the trees.  The sign on the side of the trail said “bear country”; there are about a dozen brown bears in the area, probably keeping well clear of humans.

Emerging out of the forest and cresting the hill, I turned into Val Dei Cavai for the climb towards Sella del Montoz.  The race was unfolding well ahead of me as I worked my way up the valley with a view others at the back of the field.  The temperature dropped again in the shade of the steep hills all around the valley.  I climbed steadily and within myself with the prospect of a big day ahead.

I dropped down the trail into Val di Non, as vistas opened up of the valleys far below.  It was a long, easy traverse down to the aid station at Termoncello.  I snacked on ham and parmesan cheese and tried to chat with the aid station volunteers.  My Italian was limited, as was their English, but we communicated enough to express warmth and gratitude and point the way. 

The next stage of the race had begun.  The route wound through an open, grassy valley of Campo di Flavona.  The valley is populated with chamois and mountain ibex, as well as alpine cows with noisy bells, maddeningly ringing constantly.  Towering mountains loom on one side.  These mountains eroded over time, revealing the vertical and gnarled faces of dolomite rock, surrounded by an enormous skirt of scree at its base.  The route was indistinct, with many trails crossing the race route at various places.  This valley had clearly been a cross-road for travellers throughout the ages.

I climbed into the alpine area and around to the top of the next pass, the Passo del Groste.  Just over the top was the next aid station at Rifugio Graffer al Grostè.  The ski chair lifts carried mountain bikers up to the top and I descended with riders down the slope towards Rifuge Casinei and then into the rich valley of Valle Sinella.  I was about an hour inside the cut off time at this point.

A short climb pushed up towards Rifugi Tuckett e Sella.  Many of the mountaineering routes seem to begin at the rifuge.  There was a surprising mix of day trekkers walking to Tuckett and back, with serious climbers preparing to scale the surrounding mountains.  “Salve” is a way of saying hello in alpine Italian and I said it dozens of times on the route up to the rifuge. 

The route up to Tuckett was a struggle, made more difficult by nausea and stomach troubles.  Slowing down, taking shallower breaths, allowed things to be brought back under control.  I rested a while at Tuckett, enjoying the views and chatting to other back of the pack runners. 

Dropping down from Tuckett opened up the valley of Val Brenta, with hanging glaciers on the other side and vertical drops to the floor below.  This stage of the race was the most spectacular and all adjectives seem trivial to describe the beauty of the area.  There was a small shrine along the path, with name plates and pictures of several dozen climbers who had perished over the years in the mountains.  You couldn’t help but pause and pay respect to these climbers for their endeavour and risks they faced.

As the path carved its way around the side of the mountains, I approached the head of the valley at Bocca di Brenta.  The trail opened up onto a field of large boulders that could only be clambered over or around and then navigating up the scree slope, where I met my lawyer friend. 

This was the last mountain pass at about 50km and the friendly welcome at Rifugi Tosa e Pedrotti was had just on the other side.  There was still about 90 minutes of daylight left and I made my way quickly and as carefully as I could down the rocky and twisty path.  The finish felt within reach and I did not want to roll an ankle at this point.  The light of day faded and the remainder of the race would be under the beam of my head torch, picking out the white of the rocks on the trail and the race ribbons every 100m or so. 

The beam narrows your vision, but every once in a while, I was aware of a drop off to the side of the trail, requiring focus to avoid stumbling, but also to avoid stepping on the mountain toads that populated the trail.  I dropped further down into the forest and then the lights of Molveno could be seen below.  The final stretch wound through the old part of town and down to the lakeshore to cross the finish line.

My finish time was 16 hours 44 minutes.  I thought I was going to be comfortably inside the cut off time of 17 hours, but the descent into Molveno took longer than anticipated; if I’d spent 3 or 4 more minutes at each of the aid stations, I wouldn’t have made it in time.    

The DBT was a very well organised race in an outstanding part of the world and I’m delighted to have had the opportunity to participate and reach the end.  Thanks to Herbert, Elisabetta and the team!

MacLehose Trail stages 1, 2 and 3

This was my return to the great MacLehose Trail after completing stages 4 and 5 a few years ago (here’s a link to my post on that).  I’ve now completed half the stages!

I flew into Hong Kong at 6.30am from New Zealand, dropped my bags off at the hotel and got on my way.  From Tai Koo, I took the MTR to Choi Hung (about 20 minutes on a Saturday morning), then a minibus to Sai Kung.  And then another minibus to the start of the first stage at Pak Tam Chung.  All up, that was probably about 90 minutes from my hotel.  It’s quite straightforward (and inexpensive).

I went to the visitor centre at Pak Tam Chung and got a map of the trail.  I told the guy I was doing 1, 2 and 3.  He politely suggested that I stop at the end of stage 2.  Stage 3, he said, would be “strenuous”.  I liked his understated manner; he proved to be right of course.

Each stage is about 10km.  Stage one circumnavigates the western and southern sides of the very large High Island Reservoir.  It’s all on road and pretty much flat.  There’s a stream of taxis to contend with, dropping people at the far end of the stage, at the East Dam.  The reservoir is scenic and you get to view the hills to the north of you that you will have to cross over in stage 2.  There was little shade and the day was beginning to warm up.  It’s a gentle start.

Stage two is a bit more serious at the start.  There’s a 300m climb to Sai Wan Shan, where views open up to the coast, dropping down to a series of white sandy beaches.  The Oxfam Trailwalker 2016 is in a few weeks and it follows the stages that I was on, plus a few others!  There were a number of teams training on the course, probably wondering what they’d let themselves in for.

The beaches had a number of day trippers, with boats ferrying people to and from Sai Kung.  There were little restaurants where I topped up on drinks and got out of the heat of the sun.  This stage of the trail was very busy and had by far the most people.  It’s great the way that the people of Hong Kong use their lovely country parks.  I was greeted with lots of smiles and hellos.

The trails in this stage are mostly concreted.  This stage must be one of the most accessible and popular on the MacLehose, so it maybe makes sense.  But it somewhat takes away from the experience of being out in the parkland.  It’s also the most picturesque stage, with nice viewpoints on the headlands between the beaches.

The stage ends at the road at Pak Tam Au.  There’s a little shop here where you can top up on supplies (there’s no shops on stage 3!).  It looks like you could flag a taxi or take a bus back from here if you choose to stop at the end of this stage.

Stage 3 is the real thing. The crowds vanish and the Trailwalkers and a few others were the only other people on the trail with me.  The trails were a mixture of rocky, some stone steps and hard packed clay.  The concrete paths were gone!  There were a few areas where you could open up to a run, but mostly it was trekking for me.

The first climb was the hardest of the day; about 3km with about 380m+.  Fortunately, there’s shade, but it was a laborious climb.  The views in this stage were more distant as you move further away from the coast.  The flight path was overhead and planes flew over every minute or so.  I wondered if they could see me and made a note to check if I could spot anyone in the hills next time I flew in.

The long descent brought me down into a valley.  I had a faint hope that this would be the end of the stage, as there was a steep hill on the other side.  Well that wasn’t going to happen as that hill would have to be climbed. 

It was shorter than the first, but seemed just as hard, as false tops came one after the other.  But eventually it came to an end followed by a long, quad-busting descent, taking me down to the end of the stage and Pak Tam Road.  I flagged one of the many taxis passing by, which dropped me off at Sai Kung again, to take the minibus and MTR back to the hotel.

Today I experienced some of the different qualities of the MacLehose.  Stages 4 and 5, that I had previously done, were demanding, but stunning, particularly towards the end as you see views of Kowloon.  Stage 1 was really just the entry point to the trail, a warm up.  Stage 2 had the best views, although the most people.  Stage 3 was the most strenuous, as my friend at the visitor centre predicted, more like stages 4 and 5. 

The total distance covered in the three stages was 32.05km, with 1,620+ and a time of a bit under 7 1/2 hours.