Himalayan 100 Mile Stage Race & The Mount Everest Challenge Marathon
Day 3: The Everest Challenge Marathon. Nuts!
Adam Rose / 21.10.2014
Ow. Ow. Ow. Three simple steps. And a million more. TOUGH. Without exception, that was the impression of the third day.
A 6am start to give us more daylight on the course. Blazing blue skies, an even clearer view of Kanchenjunga, crisp clean air.
28 of us began retracing the 10 miles to the Molle turning point. Gabriel and David took off at speed, but the rest showed a distinctly slower acceleration than the previous day. Quads were a-protesting.
Molle turning point came quickly. I was towards the front the field, no doubt due to fresher legs. We then headed out towards Phalut, supposedly 4 miles distant, over “a few small ups and downs” according to Mr Pandey.
The field slowed. Mostly kinder underfoot, the road began with a steepish descent, then contoured along the ridgeline, rolling and then dropping again before a final sharp climb to the hut of Phalut. Roughly two and a half miles in, Gabriel and David passed me in quick succession on their return, with Georgia half a mile behind. She was still skipping along as lightly as ever.
I was moving well, but gradually being passed by faster athletes. Taking pictures didn’t help my speed, but I tried to suppress my ego (true story) and concentrate on getting the shots. Phalut came and went. As I headed back to Molle, people were having to grit their teeth. Bryony said she was finished, as we crossed paths.
Altitude sucker-punched me. I wasn’t sick, or wheezing, or rolling my eyeballs and uttering guttural sounds for sympathy, but I slowed all the same. Right down. A mile before Molle it was pitiful, but obviously one had to keep moving all the same.
At Molle turning point, the Indian border guards laughed but their eyes narrowed slightly when I emptied a baggie of crystalline white powder into my bottle - smuggling is the chief reason for their vigilance in the area.
With 8 miles to go, the trail stayed level for half a mile, then started dropping into rain forest. Instead of cobbled roads, we followed single track for the first time, down a mixture of boardwalks and wooden steps tracing water-worn gullies. A merciful change.
A few water stops showed the mileage, but as I was tracking it, it was apparent that the numbers didn’t add up. It looked as if the route might end up a couple of miles short.
I emerged from tree cover, the descent steepened, and the water stops disappeared. Bryony appeared out of nowhere, alone, and danced down the track. It was impossible to keep up. I’ll blame the picture taking, of course.
The descent continued for a LONG time. Eventually, the cobbles returned (curses!) in the form of a path, with small huts and farms of ginger plants and corn. Mr Water Replenisher said it would be 3 miles to the Sri Kola bridge, before a straightforward run to the finish.
The houses were charming. Children danced and joked and twirled as I passed. Geese hissed, cicadas sang, it was disgustingly picturesque. A photographer could return for a month of Sundays and not run out of subject matter.
Sri Kola bridge took a LONG time coming. The river could be heard frustratingly early, which meant it took even longer for it to appear - such is the power of anticipation.
Yep, all things come to pass. By now, the mileage on my GPS was starting to match up to expectations, with a short 4 miles remaining.
Flippin’ heck but it took a long time. Flippin’ heck. And while the cobbles had been consigned to the foul, hellish pit from whence they came, the road rose ahead. As was confirmed afterwards, we’d all expected a simple, flat, easy finish.
Instead, turns came and went. Waterfalls cascaded by the roadside (more pictures). And more freakishly charming houses, adorned with flowers, and irrepressibly cute toddlers playing outside. It was impossible not to gape and grin.
Gary the American caught up to me. 65 years old, he was having a ball, but as physically drained as I was. We laughed. We walked a bit, ran a bit, walked a bit. And couldn’t believe the end was not yet in sight.
Anthony the German sped past. Impressive as he had only (kinda) recovered from bronchitis two weeks previously, coughing trackside throughout the first two days.
Gary and I finished together. Even as we crossed the finish line (7:32), we were still marvelling at the scenery. We were also gratified to see the GPS read 26.35 miles - if it had read less than a full marathon, we would have felt cheated.
Gabriel Seiberth won the marathon (Germany, 5:12). David Jacobson followed him (RSA, 5:49), with Stefan Schlett in third (Germany, 5:54). The women on the podium were Georgia Wood (UK, 6:38), Sonja Braun (Germany, 6:55) and Bryony McCormick (RSA, 7:02).
Special mention must go to Rukmini Dahanukar for completing her marathon for India. She took an incredible 15:40, which must have taken huge…determination. If she were male, I’d use a different expression, but let’s keep this family friendly. Coming down the ridge at night, in those gullies and on those cobbles, with a less-than-stellar head torch - nasty! She won huge respect all round.
So, the Everest Challenge Marathon 2014 is over. It was much harder than anticipated. Some went so far as to doubt the distance, one person even wanting to relabel it an ultra - 26.2 miles plus 20! He may be nuts, but it gives you an idea of the sentiment. With separate GPS devices agreeing within a couple of hundred yards, rest assured it’s accurate but one helluva challenge, especially on the heels of the previous days.
[You can find out more about the Himalayan 100 Mile Stage Race and Mount Everest Marathon at www.himalayan.com.]
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