Himalayan Challenge Marathon
Pre-race warning: Do not go to the Nepal!
Jacqueline Windh / 02.11.2013
About half of the 43 participants of this year’s Himalayan Stage Race had arrived to India early, to tour and to acclimatize. (I say “participants” rather than runners because our group consists of 36 runners, of whom five - including me - are journalists; three walkers who will cover parts of the 100 mile / 160 km course; a father-son team who will be biking and running; and two journalists who aren’t running). Those of us who were not available to arrive early arrived in Delhi around 24 hours - or in some cases much less than that - before our 90 minute flight to Bagdogra, in the Darjeeling district of northeastern India.
The participant make-up this year, as is usual for this race, is very international. There are many racers from the UK and the USA, as well as a team from Spain's Banco Santander, and runners and walkers coming from Sweden, Norway, Germany, Mexico, Brazil, Australia, South Africa, and Canada (me!).
The 2 hour drive from Bagdogra was pretty much pure uphill, mostly through tea plantations, but through dense jungly vegetation for the steepest parts. The road was single lane (but two directions occupying that lane) which made for a lot of honking by the driver, and gasps from the passengers, along the switchbacks.
We arrived in the small mountain village of Mirik in time for a comprehensive race briefing, during which Race Director Mr. C. S. Pandey offered repeated warnings for us to stay on the race route. Our first three days would have us following a rough cobblestone road along the ridgeline which is the border between India and Nepal. “Stay to the right, do not go to the left, to the Nepal,” he cautioned, and told us the tale of an Australian racer who went left some years ago, and ended up being saved by some remote Nepalese family. “If you go to the Nepal, I cannot help you!” Dinner was followed by what would be the first of many delicious meals, served buffet-style, with a selection of traditional Indian foods as well as pasta and other familiar carb-rich foods.
The next day was dedicated to acclimatization and tourism. Mirik is situated at 1675 m (5500’), the same altitude that we would start our race from the next day, in the village of Maneybhanjang (a 2 hour bus ride north from Mirik). Although 36 hours in Mirik would not fully prepare us for where we would end up on Day 1 (3600 m / 11,815’), it was at least better than being near sea level back in Delhi.
Two tours were offered to us that day: one departed at 6am for the three hour drive to Darjeeling, to visit this famous tea-town, including checking out the market there and riding the steam train. About half of the group opted for this very interesting, but taxing, trip. The rest of us stayed behind for a later breakfast, and a morning tour of Rimbik, which included a visit to the Thurbo tea plantation and factory, to a monastery where the monks were all out in the courtyard leaping and twirling and practicing for some big ceremony that would take place in December (our tour was very interesting, but a bit light on explanation), then a walk up to the hilltop helicopter pad, which was constructed twenty or so years ago when the prime minister flew in, and seems to have never been used again since. Clouds blew in as we walked up to it, which is a shame, because apparently the views from the helicopter pad are lovely.
I definitely could feel the effects of the altitude as we walked up to the monastery and again on the way up to the helicopter pad. My legs felt more tired than they should have for these uphill strolls, and I had to focus on deep breathing so as not to feel winded. The tour did not leave me feeling very confident for what tomorrow morning would bring: Day 1 of the staged race, a 39 km (24 mile) route with a cumulative gain of about 2750 m (9000’), finishing at the outpost of Sandakphu (a collection of trekkers’ huts on a ridgeline crest on the India-Nepal border) at 3600 m / 11,815’.
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