It was an odd sight in the morning at the small ski resort. People in skin-suits were scattered in all directions. A study in brownian motion, everywhere you look there was someone moving randomly. It was both strange and comforting to feel so unremarkable.
My rookie mistake was getting at the start too late. There was a bottle neck near the avalanche transceiver checkpoint. By the time I passed through I was on the last row...Typically that is not a problem but when there are a couple of hundred people in front of you and the trail quickly narrows down to two tracks it becomes an issue. Or so I thought. I estimated that I will be mid-pack, and fearing getting stuck behind slower racers, I prepared to wrestle my way through the crowd.
Signal was off and a wave of motion propagated through the dense group. Everyone was going fast but at the tail the motion slowed down below the usual sprint. I used every opportunity to move up-row, as did others. Things did not get very rough but there were few fallen soldiers, and many pole and ski collisions. Someone's pole ended up between my legs. Normally that would have tripped me off but not at that speed and adrenalin level. The pole was ejected somewhere sideways...Eventually we formed two tight columns and things settled down, though there was still some shuffling around. The whole process was a lot more civilized than I expected, and everyone was super considered.
Marching with the legions
We were moving side by side, one behind another. Paced fast and packed tight. Primordial instinct kicked in and I was all cosy in this environment. Out of the woods, and I was suddenly hit by the sheer scale of things. The double column of people went up undulating as far as one can see. Like endless trail of ants infesting the mountain, all moving fast and synchronized. I dint look back, the pace was still frantic. With all the gear clunk it was like the Roman legions crossing the Alps. Not the idyllic backcountry solitude type of experience for sure, but fun still.
Things didn't change much after the first descent, which was the only crappy part of the race. The second uphill followed a beautiful alpine valley that narrowed to a single steep couloir named "canale del diavolo". There we switched to booting. At this point we were in a single file, and I was content with my spot. The top was rather sharp ridge with a steep drop that would have normally phase me, for a moment at least. Not now, I was engulfed by enthusiastic public and voices of support. I found a spot to put my skis on while someone handed me a cup of tea. I drunk some and went off for a traverse and another very technical climb on skis, where I managed to pass a few racers.
A cool ridge traverse followed, and then was the first big descent. All transitions were a complete blur. Before I know it I was skiing down. The third uphill was technical with countless switchbacks. Great training for kick-turns, that always seem to be an issue for me. I felt good and passed few more guys. Then another long bootpack and a scenic ridge traverse.
"Hristo" I heard someone shout. How cool they must have the start list. No time to look back, ahead was the awesome descent down couloir "Canalino del Dito." It stared steep and narrow but opened up quickly. I was surprised to pass few more guys there. At the last uphill transition the crowd was huge and going crazy.
and the Bonk
Food and drinks were offered in un-intrusive ways. Someone even helped lock my binding. Truly the best race crowd I have ever met. I declined the food and raced up the hill. After about 15 steps it hit me--I was completely spent. I could not maintain the pace any longer. I looked up to see the guys up front feeling similar. One of them stopped and fiddled with his pack. I too had a GU gel that seemed to stick mostly on my dry lips. We were going now for almost 1900 m (6200ft) on full max. Slowly I regained speed and went past another racer. The last downhill was tough. One of my quads was cramping. I went on cautiously through the iced snow and the trees. What followed was a 3k of nordic track. All that polling in the soft snow resulted in cramps in my back, something I have never experienced in 20 years of climbing...I pushed on and finished 72nd, better than I expected. What a blast.
Big thanks to organizers and spectators for this wonderful event. I am looking forward to next year's race at Clusone.
That sounds so fun and scary and awesome!
ReplyDeleteGood for you! Love the nerd reference :)
You are supposed to eat stuff when you are racing Hristo!!! Even though you're a super athlete, water and food are important! Sheesh. Maybe you need a coach :)