Dents du Midi 57 km trail race, Switzerland - 14 September

Descent from Col du Jorat

This race, 57 kilometre Dents du Midi Trail, a loop around the Dents du Midi mountain range starting and finishing in Champéry, Switzerland, was something of a shock to me. I had entered it because I wanted to do a race on my birthday and it sounded nice. I presume I must have looked at the race results at some point before entering or at least before I left home, but when I looked at them a few days before the race I was extremely surprised by the very slow finish times. A majority of the field had taken more than 11 hours to finish. The race appeared to have three major climbs, and with all the hiking I’d done I knew what a climb of 800 - 1000 vertical metres was like. Couldn’t be that bad I figured. I ran a vertical kilometre during race week and it was tough but not impossible. 

I hoped to finish in under 12 hours so I could go to the cake shop next door to my hotel before it closed at 6.30pm and I planned to have a blueberry tart heaped with blueberries that I’d seen, coffee and two scoops of ice cream. It was my birthday after all.

Our first hour, with a 6am start, was in the dark but with plenty of moonlight, along the river, then we crossed it and started to climb. I had thought this would be a monster climb since it was long and interspersed with short downhills; I can find short downhills on a long climb to be somewhat dispiriting. In fact I had expected this to be the hardest climb of the day. We were in single file and it wasn’t very steep, through pastures on fairly smooth trail with many creek crossings that were a bit yucky and slippery. There was a great view of La Haute Cime, the highest peak of Dents du Midi. After a climb of about 12 km we had the first aid station at Soi next to a mountain hut which had Rivella (my childhood favourite), cheese, chocolate etc. So things were looking good.

We had a long descent to the town of Verossaz and another aid station. Mostly I didn’t find the descent too bad as it was on wide paths, roads and just some bits of slippery grass, so I was pleased about that, as I had been so worried about the race’s descents.

I had been been running until now close to a group women but after the town I never saw them again. For a while we were on gravel roads and level rocky paths, then we climbed in forest to the  village of Mex and ran downhill on its cobblestone narrow streets. It was a really pretty village in true Swiss style. The highlight (just joking) was a water trough in the village where, thankfully as it transpired, I had three cups of water. I still had no idea what lay ahead. After 4 -5 hours had passed I was over half way so I thought a 10 hour finish was very possible. The mountain atmosphere was great and the views were stunning; at several points I could see all the way to Lausanne and the big lake.

From Mex we were on a wide trail and I had a toilet break. This was also lucky because I saw nowhere else suitable for the rest of the race. In a while we turned off the wide trail onto a narrow, steep and stony trail. The gradient was a shock. I took it steady and eventually the grade eased. I passed another water trough with lots of runners clustered around but I didn’t stop as I thought the next aid station was not too far away. Big mistake. I had water on me but the aid station was not at all close. 

I could see a hut ahead and assumed this was where going but we soon passed it. I became worried because the col we were headed for was at 2200 metres which is well above the tree line but I could still see trees growing much higher above where I was. Then I was able to see people way up above, tiny ants on a zigzag trail. It looked horrifying. The terrain was grassy above the tree line and the path steepened again. There were rocky interludes. It became really hard going. People were stopped doubled over. Sometimes I stopped involuntarily, took a deep breath and told myself to keep going. I overtook many runners just by moving constantly but slowly. Some of the elite runners who had started three hours after us came past, also hiking. (I was in the so called citizens race.) My heart rate was through the roof. I stopped once to eat a bar and I drank a lot. I told myself I would make it to the summit just as I would make it to the finish, and I reminded myself that I had wanted a race that would take all day. 

Finally I saw a big wooden cross that marked Col du Jorat. And I made it. About 30 runners were sitting around on the grass. We had climbed a vertical kilometre in five km, including the flatter part at the beginning. The view of the lake by Salanfe mountain hut below and the mountains beyond was wonderful.  After a short sit I started the descent to Salanfe hut and enjoyed a break at the aid station. 

I thought I would be able to run the next level stretch along the lake and then across rough terrain towards the mountains but I could barely move. This seemed to be the same for everyone else. Then the next climb started. I kept telling myself it was nothing like as long as the previous one but it was much more rocky, with big steps up. Again I tried to just move forward and passed many. I saw some people standing on rocks way above me and I thought they must be spectators. But no, we had to go there and then some. Actually we had to clamber over those rocks and go up a narrow chute. Then I searched for an opening among the peaks that would be the col. Couldn’t see one and I realised we had a long way to go. We had long zigzags on scree, not the big Austrian scree but very small pieces where you keep sinking in. Finally I came to Col de Salanfe at 2600 m. This was a climb of 600 metres in three km. This time nobody was sitting around despite wonderful views back towards the lake and in the direction of Champéry.

The marshal up there said to me that it was all downhill from here. He was entirely truthful but the descent was horrible. Really horrible: loose stones, steep, abrupt turns, and the path was often in a groove and so narrow that it was hard to run in it. I went really slowly, so slowly that I felt stupid, but I was fairly scared. Lots of the runners I had passed on the way up skipped along down as if it was all great fun. I could barely believe how fast they would be out of sight ahead of me. 

On the way down there was an aid station at Susanfe mountain hut and then the awful descent continued on the Pas d’Encel. This had been mentioned in the race notes but the full importance of the warning had not sunk in. I went like a snail, coming to a standstill frequently, and masses passed me. It was such an amazing wilderness area but so hard to traverse. There were long stretches with support chains but I’ve learned that Swiss chains are useless because they are so slack that you can’t put any weight on them. You could be hanging onto the chain and still be half way down the mountainside. Some of the bare rock was very slippery and some was made slippery by being coated with a thin layer of mud. I could see Champéry far below but didn’t hold out much hope of getting there any time soon.

The path evened out and contoured grassy hillsides and I relaxed but then after another mountain hut at Bonavau I went into forest. I had not been looking forward to this because I knew how the forest trails were muddy, slippery and with lots of foot-snagging tree roots. This was awful too, slippery roots and rocks, muddy and really slow; I panicked every time I slipped as my legs were so tired. Occasionally I came onto nice 4wd trail but always returned to forest. I muttered to another runner that it would be better if we stayed on that trail and he laughed. Finally I came to the base of Grand Paradis ski lift. Now it shouldn’t be too far. I could see the limestone shelf in the mountainside across the valley that I could see from my hotel room.

I crossed the river and realised I was retracing my opening kms. I started passing houses and just hoped this was Champéry. There were small groups of people standing here and I could have asked them where I was but that might have sounded silly. Funnily enough I was able to run well now. Very suddenly I passed the first restaurant of the main street in Champéry and knew I was almost done. Crowds were cheering all through the town, the amount of support was astonishing. I had a huge smile on my face. I loved the finish, and I had indeed broken 12 hours with my 11 hrs 52 mins. I clocked the race at just over 60 km. As I neared the finish I glanced across to the cake shop and it was closed.

After I finished and had eaten my nondescript meal of pasta with mushrooms and had a beer I saw that I had won my age group so I hung around for the prizegiving. They did the women first and I got to stand on the podium, all alone as nobody else in my age group had finished yet. Everyone clapped, then I told the race director it was my birthday and when he told the crowd they all clapped again. My prize was a nicely wrapped basket of salamis, terrine and speck. 

All the restaurants in town were extremely busy but I got a seat at the bar at the one I had earmarked. I had two Aperol spritz, burger with salad and fried potatoes, and small ice cream. I had to keep standing up because it was so uncomfortable having my knees bent. Every now and then there would be a sound of cheering from outside and it was a runner finishing. I had by no means come in last. 

I certainly enjoyed getting into bed that night. The race was great and I would do something similar again, especially as this time I would be forewarned. I think the nature of the course was a big surprise to me but now I’ve had experience of a few of these European alpine races I know what I should investigate before I sign up. I’m not too shabby at climbing but I am hopeless with long technical descents and I need to avoid getting involved in these.