Ultra-Trail du Mont-Blanc – An odyssey between Mercury and Pluto, an inner journey – Part II
After the ascent to heaven, the descent to hell...
It's 11:39 am on a scorching hot morning. I'm 17:39 hours into the race.
For the first time, I fill the hydration pack with 1 liter of water. So far the two 500 ml soft flasks that I bring with me have been enough, however according to the map I will now have to overcome the ascent to the Grand Col Ferret under the inclement sun and travel 14 km without finding any supply. I don't know if I'll find a stream on this section, or if the intermediate point in La Peule will have water, but I don't want to risk it. It's one more kg that you carry on your back, but with hydration, you can't be too careful!
I leave towards the Grand Col Ferret, on the border between Italy and Switzerland, between the Italian Ferret Valley and the Swiss Ferret Valley.
“The Ferret Pass is at an altitude of 2,537 m, on the Mont Blanc massif, which connects Courmayeur in the Aosta Valley to Orsières in the Swiss canton of Valais. Geographically, the pass connects the Ferret Valley of the two countries.”
- Wikipedia
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| Vale Ferret in Itália |
I start to climb. The Grand Col Ferret awaits me ironically, with a sneer on his lips, fiercely determined to defend the access to the Canton of Valais in Switzerland.
Once again a line of untamed explorers darts up the mountain. Nobody runs. Everyone walks, heads down, in a slow, long, resigned gait.
We pass on the right side of Refuge Elena and turn to the right, where the terrain slopes frighteningly.
I climb a lot slower, at 3.1 km/h. Even so, I surpass comrades. They're all broken like me. Either that or they save themselves for the challenges that still lie ahead.
I get there at 1:05. I'm still 20 minutes behind schedule. The elite runners must have passed here at dawn, around 6:30 am. That is, with just over 6 and a half hours ahead of me. After 19 hours of running, it doesn't seem too bad for an older guy who has seen the Earth revolve around the Sun 47 times, like me.
It's cooler up here. The view is magnificent but I can't stop otherwise I will cool off rapidly. I ingest a gel, and start the descent to La Fouly. Now I'm in Swiss territory!
It hurts me to go down. I start a wobbly trot and head downwards. I'm being passed by several of those whom I passed on the way up. We will have to descend 1,073 m in 10 km to the next solids station, in La Fouly. Fully one thousand seventy-three meters! A vertical kilometer downhill, under the scorching sun that warms us as we descend into the valley as the temperature increases mercilessly. This already with 101 km and 6,500 D+ / 5,000 D- load in the entire musculoskeletal and neuro-motor system.
I've been awake since 9 am on Friday. Now it's 1:30 pm on Saturday when I arrive at the intermediate liquid supply in La Peule. That is, I have been awake for more than 28 hours. I think this is one of the reasons why I want to finish it in less than 32 hours: so I don't go into for another night. I remember well how it affected me in 2012 on the 100 miles of Ehunmilak and I don't want to go through the same experience again: the pain, the icy cold of a body too exhausted to generate heat, vertigo, nausea, the vibrating floor as it jumps of its own accord, eyes glazed over, mind clouded. I want to avoid it all.
In the station I take the opportunity to fill the soft flasks and put my head under a merciful shower that the organization has made available to us. My brain was already on the point of evaporating through my nostrils, had it not been for this miraculous intervention.
And that's it, I start moving again. The longer I take the more the terrible possibility of seeing myself forced to manage another dawn.
La Fouly is a mirage that takes a long time to materialize. First, it is necessary to take many turns, go down and up again when it was already certain that the path would always be downwards. There are only 148 positive meters ascend interspersed with the missing 630 negative, but it feels like 500 because they take me away from destiny. I want to go down to the valley, on the way to the Champex Lac Oasis and not go up to heaven again.
On the way I pass by my friend Alexandre Cunha, who seems to me physically much fresher than I do but who has complicated problems with his feet.
Finally, we reach a road parallel to the river that runs through the entire valley, the Dranse de Ferret. We cross a bridge to the right bank and enter a tarred road.
We continue at a hard trot, 3 or 4 Trail Runners trying to hide from each other the physical exhaustion, the moral exhaustion, the imminent smell of bitter defeat.
At the entrance to the village, I am happily greeted by the same group of Portuguese who had already thrown me a party in Courmayeur. The first thing I see through the screaming is our beloved national flag. It's a breathtaking sight. It smells like family, it smells like friends, it smells like the sea and the beach, beer in the moonlight and red wine with farinheira. It smells like home in this far corner of a barbaric land.
I launch myself forward feeling renewed. I get into the station and pull myself together as best I can. Farinheira and red wine blend with gels, bananas and salty soup. It's 2:41. I'm only 33 minutes behind schedule. Nothing is lost! The second dawn is still avoidable.
Now we will continue descending to Praz de Fort, another 690 m in 9 km, before starting the ascent to Champex Lac.
At a certain point along the way my comrade Nelson Sousa reaches me. It's the third time I've come across him. The first at La Balme many hours ago, the second on the way up to Bertone and now this one. We decid to continue at the same pace. I'm stronger on the climbs but he's better on the descents. Now he pulls. It does me good to pick up the pace, which was already close to snail like. We are making progress in the midst of intense heat. I drink like a horse. What holds me up are the salt tablets that I dissolve in water.
We keep conversation and the kilometers go by faster. Arriving at the bottom of the valley, we cross the village of Issert where the locals celebrate and give us water to drink.
Now we must climb 445 m to the lake. We enter the forest and trails lined with roots and dirt steps.
Here I do the pulling. And it's time to go up. Going up I feel still relatively well. It is 5 km to Champex. Let's go!
The forest is magical, with animal statues carved into the wood at every turn.
At 17:00 we started to hear the racket from above. We cross a tar road. We go up a short road and finally enter the huge Champex Lac tent.
Champex-Lac
It's now 17:27. 23:26 have passed since the beginning of this odyssey, and we've already covered 125 km with 7,300 D+ / 6,800 D-. I confirm on the watch. I am now 54 minutes behind schedule. Shit! I'm get weaker. If I continue this way I will complete the race in 33 hours…
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Difference to plan in hours (units and fractions of an hour) |
…little did I know how frustrated that prediction was going to be and the ordeal that awaited me during the next long and excruciating hours.
If you will have the patience to listen to me to the end, you will hear the story of someone who went down in Charon's barge through the waters of the Styx to Hades, and how he returned from there.
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