Another race in Austria, another mid race cancellation… 

The Mayrhofen Ultra Z101, I won’t lie, scared me. For weeks we over analysed the profile and route. The technicality of the race sounded more on the extreme side of the events I’ve attempted – The climbs were long, steep and many (there were 3 climbs in excess of 1,000m and 2 more just under!). The final descent was almost a whopping 1800m drop over about 8km. The route was self-navigation (not marked). The finisher rate in previous years was less than 50%. But it wasn’t those things that worried us the most, it was the cut off timings there were 31 hours to complete it, this sounded very hard!

When over analysing, we made the mistake of comparing previous finishers times and ITRa scores. We were more worried now. In previous iterations, there were finishers finishing in the final 30 mins with an ITRa score in the mid 600s. Ours were all in the 400s. There were people finishing in the final 3 who’d done sub 30 hour UTMB times (we did 45hrs!) and 19 hour TDS finishers (we did 35 hrs!). Fair to say we were feeling the pressure and were prepared for a long, hard weekend of suffering. 

The day before the race at the race briefing the organisers talked through the course and some of the many difficult sections with cables or high summits or the final boulder section after 80km we’d most likely do at night. They also discussed the weather which was wet and cold with plenty of snow expected on the summits. They said they were monitoring the conditions and would update us. 

The day of the race we might have cheered a little when we received an email advising that there was a course change due to the snow. We wouldn’t be going up the Schonbichler Horn. It looked incredible but as the highest summit over 3000m the conditions were deemed unsafe so we wouldn’t be diverted along the road through the valley instead. The new course was slightly longer but had about 600m less elevation. We felt this made the cut offs more achievable for us and we now had a fighting chance of making the cut offs. 

45 mins before the race start we were at the start line ready to have our kit checked and receive our trackers. There we were told the the start would be delayed by 1 hour due to the rain. It was absolutely pouring it down. We were there in full waterproofs and were already soaked from walking down from the accommodation! So whilst annoying that we were delayed (and would now definitely be doing the boulder field in the dark the following night), we saw the benefit of hopefully starting in drier conditions!

Come 6pm, the weather had indeed improved and we were off. After a fast start along the road and the climb to the village of Finkenberg, we soon entered the forest. Quickly the field of 60 or so runners spread out and the four of us settled near the back of the pack. Soon we were separating out amongst ourselves. Whilst aiming and wanting to run together, we we each individually focused on getting through the first two climbs as quickly as possible to assess our situation and timings. 

These first two climbs of the route were huge. We’d climb 1300 on the first climb over about 9km and then over 1500m on the second climb. We’d see approximately 3000m of climb in the first 30km. With the amended route, that was now almost half the total elevation gain of the route! Paul and Darryl were ahead and I was a little further back then Matt a little behind me as we climbed. The climb was steep but the terrain friendly with mostly dirt tracks through the forest. We followed short, narrow switchbacks up endlessly through the forest. Eventually Darryl was lost to sight as I caught up with Paul and Matt close to us both. 

We broke through the forest towards Gamshutte, the first aid station. There was a short out and back section to the refuge where we saw Darryl was already on his way down. The rest of us climbed up the last few hundred metres and took a few minutes to sort our fuel and eat before heading back down. The day light was diminishing and we put our head torches on. Paul had issues with his torch so Matt provided the light whilst he fixed it and I ran on. 

The descent was steep and frantic as we dropped 1,000m. The trail here was again short switch backs but with loose wet soil. I ran freely with gravity assisting the pace. The forest was so dark and quiet. Despite still having some light outside, the dense trees blocked it all from reaching us and we ran under the feint glow of our head torches. A few times I slipped, the wet mud causing a few scares and the sharp hairpin bends keeping me focused. Luckily I never fell and in no time at all I was nearing the bottom, somewhat hot and out of breath. 

As I continued there was no sign of any of the others, neither Darryl ahead of me nor Paul or Matt behind me. From here I knew the course would be pathed and gravelled road running through several smaller villages that gradually climbed before the next ascent really started. I stopped quickly and tightened my laces then set off, knowing I’d need to run as much as this section as I could to give myself a proper chance of finishing within the cut offs. I ran on and on and on. It was so long. The climb was the sort of climb at home I wouldn’t run, a gradual incline of about 300m over 9km or so. I kept on running though. My frustration was that, despite running it all, I was never catching the glimmers of head torches I’d see in the distance and was even overtaken a few times. I kept my head strong though and didn’t let this phase me or stop me running. 

Eventually there was another aid station on the side of the road. An extra unexpected one at the start of the next climb. Due to the diverted route we’d come back here the next day, so I think that’s why it was there. I was glad and refilled my bottles ready for the 1300m climb over about 3km.

We started in the forest. Wow it was steep. Big lunging steps and rocks covered the path through the forest. The climb was endless short switch backs with no real break from the steepness. It took about an hour to get through the forest section, where we then climbed on the open mountain. It was dark. It was mostly off track. The ground was saturated with water. Looking up, I could see up high in the sky was an array of head torches lighting up the route. To my left the summit, clearly covered in snow and white in the darkness of night. 

As I climbed the wet grass gave way to white snow. At 2000m the ground was covered in a thin layer of it. I could see why there were concerns about the snow that changed the course – we’d still be climbing close to 3,000m later on and already the snow level was down around the 2,000m mark! Regardless though, I plodded on. For an age. As I reached the higher level where I could see head torches starting the snowy summit I could feel the air getting much, much colder. I was aware and told myself I would layer up before too long to ensure I wasn’t cold when we summited.

I carried on. Slowly using my poles to drag my ass up. I did stop half way up the final ascent section to put on my coat and gloves. I couldn’t fit my fingers into my gloves properly so just rammed them in as best I could, knowing that eventually they would warm up and I’d have more manoeuvrability when they weren’t so cold. The climb was slow but eventually I summited about 2 hours after I started. As I breached the saddle, wow! the view was infinite. In the dark of night the full moon lit up the mountains all around me. The sky was so clear and as far as I could see there were snow covered mountains. Such a view was worth the climb!

From here we traversed the side of the mountain towards Friesenberghaus hut. Way off I could see it. Lit up in the night. Beyond it head torches leaving and continuing the journey on towards the next mountains and refuge. I carried on, eager to get to the aid station. Then the route got harder. What looked like a quick traverse became a slow steady scramble as I climbed over huge snow covered rocks. They were so slippery. The only good thing was that the previous runners had compressed enough snow to make it easier for me to navigate the boulders and follow in the footsteps of those before me. It was quite nerve wracking with the slippery rocks. 

Eventually I crossed the boulders and and the path became more clear and I trusted my footings again. Out of nowhere two ladies ran passed me. Again I was amazed how fast they were moving as I was running too and not exactly taking my time. It is always so impressive to see how quick and fearless other runners are! 

Into the aid station I arrived and immediately stared chatting with the volunteers. They were so friendly and helpful. They filled my bottles and gave me warm beef soup. As I was chatting the lady answered the phone and I heard her say “oh no”. Then it came. They said the race had been terminated. The weather conditions had deteriorated and they were concerned about the route further along and the safety of runners. It was an odd feeling. It didn’t phase me in anyway. Just pure “oh well” acceptance. I took more soup and chatted with them some more. They told me there was another hiking path and I could descend to a road after 5km where they would arrange transport for us. I told them I’d wait for my two other friends to arrive (Darryl had already passed through) and went inside the refuge to wait in the warmth. Inside the two ladies and 3 more runners were also warming up. I noticed immediately that they were all wearing snow spikes. No wonder they were so confident with their running, although, I wouldn’t have wanted to wear spikes on the big boulders!

After a while I went back outside to look for Paul and Matt. I could see two head torches in the distance, probably finishing up the boulder section. The volunteer checked the tracker and confirmed it was them. She also confirmed Darryl was out of sight and on his way to the next aid station (which was a short section only about 5 km away). She asked me if I wanted to tell them the news or leave it to her. I said I would but that they wouldn’t believe me. I called out in the night and cheered them in. Then I broke the news. As predicted, they didn’t believe me. She confirmed, it took them a few moments to come to the realisation that it was no joke. Disappointment set in.

We went inside in the warmth and had more soup before taking the descent down off the mountain. It was a long 5km path as we descended 700m to the lake. The terrain not much better with large rocks and saturated paths. We had a few stream crossings and a very slippery wooden bridge to navigate to the road by the lake. Here we waited and maybe 5-10 mins later a mountain rescue team arrived and collected us. We started driving home before turning around and heading the opposite way. We drove to the halfway aid station and picked up more runners (and our drop bags). The cramped medical van drove us so far before we pulled over and squished into a taxi for the rest of the journey. We did eventually get back to Mayrohfen and, thanks to Paul’s boldness, we also got the taxi to stop outside our accommodation to save us a ten minute walk back through the town. 

On the journey we discussed our thoughts and feelings. A few times the idea of getting up early and doing one of the other races (the 50 or 30kms perhaps) came up. But it was too late. We didn’t get to sleep till 5am and those races had early starts and buses to the start lines. It took us a while to realise the extent of our work out too. We still ran 35km with 3000m of ascent at night. It was no easy run and we were all a little achy when we did eventually wake up that day! 

One thing is certain, for now, no more runs in the temperamental Austria mountains!