The adventure for the Mayrhofen Ultraks Z101 was never meant to be multiple parts. However, 2025 introduced me to Mayrhofen and a cancellation due to weather saw us cover around 30km a of the trail. It was tough but spectacular and a second attempt was booked for 2026. The organisers kindly offered a discount for the 2026 edition, so Paul, Darryl and I signed up. More confident than ever…
Like the year before we attended the race briefing. This year there was little of note – The weather was perfect. It was pretty much going to be sunny throughout. Starting in low 30 temperatures and dropping to the mid teens high in the mountain during the night – The complete opposite to 2025. Even arriving in town the difference was obvious with the previously snow covered mountains a bright, lush green instead! There would be a small course diversion this year due to a landslide, but this section would be marked (the z101 is a semi-autonomous race with no specific course markings). The briefing also touched on the more technical aspects of the route after the climb to Schonbichler horn and the “block terrain” section towards the back end of the course. This year I was under no illusion as to what lay ahead, or so I thought…
At the start line we had our kit checked, collected our trackers and positioned ourselves fairly close to the front. Not intentionally, we just wanted the shade to keep cool in the scorching evening heat. Unlike last year when it pissed down at the start, there was a huge crowd who cheered us as we ran up the Main Street through Mayrhofen once the race started. By the time we got to the end of the main road it felt like most of the field of runners had passed us and we were fairly near the back where we belonged.
The first 30km of the route was comparable to 2025. We powered up the first climb to Gamshutte in about 2 hours. It is a whopping climb, but whilst the forest was warm and humid, the trails are forgiving. Arriving at the aid station it was still daylight (last year we were delayed an hour so it was dark when we arrived here) so we took a moment and enjoyed the view. We filled our bottles with ice cold mountain water. Ate some cake and drank a clear liquid that wasn’t water. It sounded like some local thing. Whatever it was, it was sweet.
From Gamshutte we descended quickly, recalling the runnable narrow switchbacks as we dashed down. Thinking back to the wet conditions of 2025, I don’t know how we didn’t fall down this trail. By now loads of other runners had passed us and it suddenly felt like we were propping up the race! We were shifting though and were down the mountain in next to no time at all. From here, the section was a long runnable stint of gravel trails, sealed paths and road but all gradually climbing a few hundred meters. We ran when we could. Walked with intent when it was steeper. We enjoyed the trails without our head torches, using the soft glow of infrequent street lights for as long as we could. A notable moment was seeing a cat casually laying on the back of a cow resting in a barn. It looked at us with a real cat attitude vibe.
As we approached the water stop that marked the end of the section, and the start of the biggest climb, Darryl and I noticed Paul had dropped back in the darkness of the night. While Darryl waited at the water station I took advantage of the public toilet at the road control area. Something ‘wasn’t right’ with my stomach and I was glad of this proper toilet! As I emerged, a new man, Paul was waiting with news. He’d decided not to carry on. He just wasn’t enjoying it nor was he in the right frame of mind for what lay ahead. Darryl and I said good bye, stuffed our face with the freshest, juiciest apple at the water station and carried on.
This climb is a beast, well over 1000m. It’s pretty tough, steep in places and hard on the legs and lungs. First you climb in the forest which was very humid this year. Then you emerge on to the mountain and it gets steeper and steeper. We moaned and groaned our way up. Somehow I’d blocked this all out from my memory and recalled “it wasn’t that bad”. It was. After a lot of swearing the trail levelled a bit as we navigated across the mountain and began the final section of the climb which was steep with short, rocky switchbacks. After summiting, the traverse of the few hundred meter long boulder field led us to the aid station. This was way easier to navigate this year without the snow covering! As we approached the aid station I stopped to try to recreate the photo from last year. Not a bad comparison …
We reached the Friesenberg-haus aid station in a little under 7 hours. We were almost an hour up on our rough plan (for a 30 hour finish, the cut off is 31 hours) and about 15 mins quicker than 2025. Confidence was good. I felt good! Here we had some soup and more of the clear liquid. Turns out there was a communication error on my part. It wasn’t a local drink, but some generic isotonic/sports nutrition. I took a few cups as I’d been cramping on the climb so thought this might help. There was a joyful moment as we left and I told Darryl I’d gone further than I did last time. Darryl had a few more km to the next aidstation to get the same sensation.
Here our race soon started to unravel. From the Friesenberg-haus the terrain changes dramatically and is basically just rock the whole way. The short but steep climb out of the aid station was tough. It only took about 20 mins, but it felt way longer and harder. Effort levels had shot up. We then slowly descended all the way to the next aidstation station – the Olperer-hutte (a little over 3km away). It was slow because the terrain was so tough. Just endless large boulders and slabs of rock the whole way. Our gait was disturbed, our ankles rolling and our toes being bashed about. Like I’d done before, Darryl seemed to have blocked this from his memory. Last year in the snow he covered this section far quicker than we did this year. I’ve no idea how!
The stand out memory from this section was an odd technical malfunction Darryl experienced. He’d been complaining his head torch was quite dim. At some point there was a loud crack. We both heard it and I thought it was perhaps the sound of a rock being cracked underground as the slab he stepped on moved. However he said it came from him and he felt something hit his head. He reached back and his battery compartment of his torch had come loose. Odd. He closed it and carried on, making a note to change the battery at the next stop. As we arrived at Olperer-hutte, he went to change his battery. It was then he found out that one of the AAA batteries had exploded, leaked acid and blown the battery compartment open. Thankfully he was able to clean out the acid and change battery without issue and the torch now worked properly. A new experience for sure!
At Olperer-huttewe had some snacks but got cold quickly. Even with the warm night it was chilly so high on the mountain (we were around 2,400m at this point). We quickly checked the profile of what was next and left. We were a little confused as it seemed to suggest it was an 18km section. But we knew it wasn’t that long! It was however net down hill as we’d loop towards the Italian border and then turn back on ourselves down to Zamsgatterl where our drop bags would be.
This section was an enduring nightmare. Ultimately our undoing. Very soon into it Darryl vocalised his pains. His Achilles injury had flared up and he acknowledged he was in a lot of pain. He’d power through and get the medics to check him over at Zamsgatterl. Powering through was all we could do as the mountain put an end to any aspirations we had of moving with any pace. The terrain was just more of the same. Rock after rock after rock. “Block terrain” was the phrase used by the race director to describe the terrain towards the end of the course, but oddly not here. It was like one continuous boulder field for over 10km. In many places solid and stable slabs of rock, in many places uneven large boulders we’d tentatively hop our way across from one to the other and in between just loose rocks the size of footballs. On some occasions it was steep with chains to navigate, in one place it was like a stone stair way to the stars – huge boulders we’d lunge up. We joked that even though it was a net downhill section, we were moving with the pace of a steep climb. It was no joke though and it wasn’t a good sign.
My stomach was playing up again and I needed to take a moment to myself. After a steep climb (on which a large sheep casually lay on the track without a care in the world) I left Darryl perched on a rock and I climbed higher to find a bit of privacy away from the trail. With my headlight off I found a moment to enjoy the surreal night sky. Stars glistening in the darkness with a slight glow highlight the mountain silhouettes all around. It was a special moment. Darryl had also enjoyed the starry sky without his head torch while he waited for me. As for my stomach, I was starting to think that the isotonic drink I was knocking back doesn’t agree with my stomach. I made a note not to have any more!
With our headlights back on we trudged forward. We slowly navigated around the mountain trail. Occasionally seeing head torches way off in the distance. Constantly swearing at the ground. At one point Darryl tripped and fell. Shortly after I did the same. We decided to ‘take a moment’ and sat ourselves on a rock, heads down in silence feeling sorry for ourselves as we tried to regain composure. A few minutes later we got back up to carry on and “get this over with”. We were barely covering any distance. Everything was so distorted. It felt like we were moving fairly quickly, but we just weren’t. It was slow going. We reached the river crossing that was noted in the race briefing, but that was straight forward. The water level was so low we didn’t event wet our toes. Eventually we could see head torches coming in a different direction. The border and turnaround point was within touching distance but yet so so far away. When we did eventually reach it we were mentally exhausted. Physically too, it was like we’d run 80km not 30 odd. Our neck and shoulders also ached from staring at the ground constantly.
The trail opened onto a wide access track. We were excited and then immediately disappointed as a few markings led us across and off the trail. Whilst it was a self navigation route, the course did follow the marked trail with the usual red/white markings (which we exceptionally visible having recently been painted – you could still smell the paint!!). Here though there were no trail markings. The path was barely visible (it’s just rock remember) and we followed what felt and locked logical in the darkness. Darryl’s watch beeped constantly indicating we were going wrong/off route. It was beeping so frequently I thought it was birds chirping away.
Eventually we found our way down and re-joined the wider access track. It was less rocky now and far more runnable. Our legs however had no running in them. We were probably close to 45km in but death marching like it was 95km. Slow steady steps forward. Amazingly as we made our way down the track we could occasionally see head torches way up high beginning the descent, still heading towards the border, probably not yet even at the river crossing. We counted maybe 6 or 7 lights still behind us. Some maybe even 2 hours behind. We were amazed after thinking we were right at the back.
In the distance a glow started to appear. The Zamsgatterl was coming into sight. By now though we’d been ‘crunching the numbers’ for a while and had come to the realisation that we wouldn’t be making the cut offs and would most likely be getting timed out. Not here though…
The first cut off was at 1pm (20hours) at Greizer Hutte. After that it would be 5pm (24 hrs) at the Kasseler Hutte. Before the Greizer Hutte though we had to climb and descend the two highest sections on the course. From Zamsgatterl a short flat section by the reservoir, then starting the steep climb to Schonbichler Horn, the highest point of the course. First passing another aid station the Furtschaglhaust. From the summit we’d then descend what would involve a very technical section with a rope. The pictures of it from the race briefing make out it is a difficult descent. After the descent off Schonbichler Horn we’d reach the Berliner hutte. Then another climb up Mörchnerscharte and down the other side to Greizer Hutte, This section is supposedly even more technical and difficult.
It was a long and torturous journey ahead. We discussed continuing to Berliner Hutte, By which point we’d probably be timed out. There we could enjoy the views and rest at the mountain hut with a hot meal. And we’d get to experience the Schonbichler horn. This was now our aim if the reality of being timed out was as likely as we thought.
Arriving into Zamsgatterl we were deflated. The drop bags and seating/ aid station was outside on the trail. It was about 5:30 in the morning and very cold in the valley. We asked if there was an indoor area and we were led to a small back room. A sort of storage room for the hut. There was another runner sitting in there in full waterproofs trying to stay warm. He’d dropped from the race about an hour and a half earlier and was waiting for a lift back from the organisers once all runners had arrived/passed through.
The space wasn’t conducive to the rest we needed. The usual warm meal and change of clothing wasn’t going to happen smoothly. I quickly changed as we talked through the options. I chatted with the other runner who knew the area and course well. Darryl went to speak with the medic. My news was insightful, Darryl’s a little more tragic – he’d been told to withdraw and not continue on medical grounds. His Achilles was in a bad place and it would be very risky for him to continue. He handed his race number in. I stubbornly held onto mine refusing to succumb to the reality.
Basically John (the other runner) said we wouldn’t make the cut offs. That was clear. We needed at least 8 hours based on how long it had taken to cover the course so far. If I left immediately we had about 7.5 hours. The volunteers also confirmed I’d have to have left already to have any chance of making the 1pm cut off. Plan B and the tour to Berliner Hutte for food was also unfeasible. There would be no transport back from the Berliner hut (it was a few hundred meter climb up the mountain) and if I did get there, I’d have to walk about 10km back down to a main road to get any transport (and that would involve waiting for public buses in a Sunday to get to the other side of the mountain range). John did suggest I could climb the Schonbichler Horn, then turn around and come back to Zamsgatterl . But by which time I’d return, the runners and aid station would be gone and I’d probably have similar issues getting transport back to Mayrhofen.
I was slowly accepting the reality of the situation. It all made sense to drop here. To stop trying to go further. To take the option of a lift back and, most importantly be sensible – I did after all have to remember that in a week’s time is be on the start line of the Tor Des Geants 330km race. So this would actually be a blessing in disguise and not wreck my body before staring. I handed in my number too….
Probably about 30 mins later the volunteers drove a few of us back to the town of Ginzling – were we arrived after the first descent in the race. As we waited for the organisers to collect us from here, Paul woke up and came to collect us. By 8am we were showered and in bed. After a sleep the analysis began… on reflection we had no chance. This race isn’t for us. We aren’t strong nor fast enough to endure the terrain of the Mayrhofen z101.
After being an hour ahead of our race plan at Friesenberg-haus, by the time we reached Zamsgatterl we were almost 2 hours behind plan. That’s a massive swing and time difference in what was a fairly short distance. We’d planned to leave Zamsgatterl about 4am. Instead we were arriving near to 5:30am and feeling battered from the journey.
Whilst Zamsgatterl is a little under half way in terms of distance, John suggested it was closer to about a third of the way in terms of time (which would make sense from our own timings and what remained of the time to the final cut-off). The second half of the course being much harder and much more technical. John alluded to it being very similar to the block terrain we’d covered, added with the three big climbs, technical descents and a ridge crossing. Throw in the tired legs and it just becomes slower to navigate.
He said someone he knew, who’d finished the race previously, had suggested that you probably need an ItRa index of at least 600 to finish it. For context both Darryl and I are high 400s. (I’m currently a little over 500 after a skewed result bunked my performance index up uncharacteristically). I looked up John after the race and he was high 500s. He himself was aiming for a 29hour finish and was over 1.5 hours ahead of us getting to Zamsgatterl. It was clear our plan and confidence was way off the mark and we’d truly underestimated the brutality and technicality of the race. the short section we’d managed to do in 2025 wasn’t representative of the rest of the route!
After the race finished, checking the results only 34 out of the 111 starters finished. That is an astonishing low finisher rate of 30% and a huge dnf (did not finish) rate of 70% in what was perfect conditions for the run. You’d normally expect the percentages to be the other way around and on a bad weather day an event’s dnf rate to creep to the 40% mark. 30%! We did not belong on this start line!
What was more telling was that all the finishers were way ahead of our splits. All the runners who finished in the final hour made it to the first aid station over an hour faster than us and all of them passed Zamsgatterl (where we dropped out) over 2 hours faster than us. Everyone inbetween was timed out at the first cut off at Greizer Hutte.
So on reflection it was the wise and sensible choice to stop when we did. Although we the wiser choice would have been to better research and understand the race and route and our compatibility before signing up for it (twice!) in the first place. We will live and learn. Maybe… Mayrhofen z101 is no doubt a spectacular event in an incredibly beautiful area. It also well and truly humbled us. I won’t be naïve enough to go back a third time!
Run With Dai 