Many years ago I signed up to a race in Bulgaria, the Wild Boar Ultra, but due to travel restrictions (remember those Covid years…) I never made it to Bulgaria. Fast forward to 2024 and I was finally travelling to Bulgaria, with a group of friends, for a different race, the Pirin Ultra. Specifically the 66km ultra race. As part of the event there are different distances including the very wild 100 mile race and the very technical 38km ‘Extreme’ race. The pictures and videos of the Extreme 38km race dominate the advertising for the Pirin Event. It looks incredible, but a little terrifying too with very long ridge sections and strict entry and participation criteria. The 66km is probably the tamest of the events on offer, but tough in its own way. So we all signed up to the same race.
Our adventure began on Friday in Sofia with plenty of food and a little sight seeing on foot on Saturday morning. I say ‘little’ as it is not somewhere I thought there is a great deal to see. I’m being ignorant to the history and culture of Sofia but I honestly thought the city was just ‘meh’. We’d rented some cars and made our way to Bansko for Saturday evening where we we instantly realised there was plenty more to see and enjoy there. We began to get excited that, soon enough, we’d all be running around the Pirin mountain range.
Our evening was a little time pressured as we arrived in town just before 6pm, checked into the hotel then headed straight for registration and then dinner. Registration was smooth with a full and thorough kit check, but disappointingly a ‘ravaged’ participant pack with left over sized tee shirts and no ‘freebies’ that had all gone. We faffed a bit finding somewhere suitable to eat (only so much meat and ‘Big Knuckles’ could be handled pre-race!) and were back at the hotel for 10pm with not much time to pack and get ready for the early wake up call.
Just before 6am on a bitterly cold morning we were checked into the race starting pens with our trackers attached and activated. We had a short but chilly wait until we were given the signal to begin our adventure and we, along with about 230 other runners, found ourselves running through the cobble streets of Bansko in the direction of the main road through the town. Once on it, we followed the road up toward the mountains. Very early on Carl and I stopped to take our jackets off as we started heat up and instead of running started walking.
The route of the 66km race would see us make three ‘chunky’ climbs to different peaks. The first about 1500m, the second 1300m and the third a more modest 900m. Of course between each we’d need to descend too. So basically the course went ‘up’, ‘down’, ‘up’, ‘down’, ‘up’ and ‘down’ again like some computer cheat code from the 90s’. This did mean though that it would be easy for us to keep track of where on the route we were at any point!.
The first climb was the longest and, over 15km, took us up the main road then into some forests before we started ascending on the mountain. On the road we’d already removed a layer as it was hot, but in the forest we began to feel the icy morning cold quite quickly in the shade of the trees. At this point I was with Carl and Ale, Vanna and Gif were just behind us and further up ahead were Reka and Jon. The morning grew lighter but colder as we slowly climbed, passing a few parking spots and ski resorts. I refrained from layering up but made sure I would do so at the first aid station which we reached after about 10km.
At the aid station I did just that, adding arm sleeves and gloves. My fingers were numb and took a little while to warm up, I was so glad to have the Montane Prism gloves though as they were a bit thicker and warmer. Prior to the race I had heard that the aid stations were ‘crap’ on this event and now I had the first sample of the limited options available. It was crap, but at 10km in I wasn’t bothered and I ate a few pieces of bread with tomato paste spread on them. Different to what I’ve encountered before, but it did the job and satisfied my early morning hunger.
Whilst at the aid station we’d all regrouped with the exception of Jon who was gone. Reka, Carl, Ale and I all then left together as the route first continued into the forest and then left the mountain roads behind as we made our way onto the mountain. We made a very small wrong turn but were soon back on track and pausing to look back at the incredible sunrise back over Bansko. The ground around us frosty and glistening as the sunshine started to fight its way through and break the darkness of the morning. As the sun light hit us we instantly warmed, it was a great feeling. We ran along side some rivers and could see the ridge lines that the 38km route would take (the more technical course) on the other side of the mountain range. The trails smelt beautiful with local herbs (I forget what we were told they were, but similar to lavender) dominating the air and I was amazed how silent it was as we climbed higher and higher. It was truly surreal and peaceful. As we began to climb the steeper, rockier section to the first summit we found ourselves behind a blind runner with his guides. I was amazed. It’s incredible that this man was able to navigate this terrain without sight. There were rocks everywhere as we clambered over boulders and rocky paths, yet he was moving with a quick pace. We were in complete awe (we later found out he’s very experienced endurance athlete for many disciplines. What a remarkable man!).
Once we summited the views were spectacular. 360 degree panoramic views with mountains all around us as far as we could see in all directions. In front of us the descent was pleasant looking as we’d now traverse along the side of the peaks. Carl started running and the rest of us couldn’t keep up. Before we knew it he was a spec in the distance getting further and further away. Reka, Ale and I ran a fair bit and passed many hikers out on the trails who’d woken early to enjoy the sunrise. At the end of the path there was a sharp turn and we began to descend. The first climb was over and now it was time for the first descent. Here we met a runner from the 100 mile route who’d started the morning before us. He stuck with us as we moved swiftly down the mountain path and into the forests below.
We were moving well and passed a load of runners in the forest as we followed the trail markings down. Ale was setting the pace despite his struggles and not feeling well. When Ale isn’t enjoying the down hills you know something isn’t right with him! The forests we ran through were dense and lush with pine needles covering the floor and the sunlight squeezing its way through the gaps in the tree tops. As we neared the bottom there were streams and the trails were a little wet and muddy in parts. Overall though the descent was smooth. I remembered thinking this was a very kind way to descend from a summit at 2,600m. It was no where near as rocky as the ascent was. I was relieved. On the way down we passed a a tap and quickly filled another bottle and then had a short gentle incline on a wide gravel track before we finished descending. We’d now done the ‘first’ mountain and had two more to go…
As quickly as that we were climbing again. We reached a small collection of (massive!) houses in the forests as the gravel track became an asphalt road and, after a short climb on the road, entered the forests once more. The start of the climb was rocky and steeper than the first climb we’d done. The three of us were now spread out a little and I found myself alone with my head down focusing on the terrain and climb. It was warm and sweaty but far more comfortable than the cold from hours earlier. This section to the second aid station was the longest part of the course at 19km. I’d filled a third bottle at the first aid station and was so glad we found the extra tap along the way. I was drinking plenty as I pushed up the climb. After a while of lunging over large boulders as we climbed through the forest there was a break in the treeline and the next aid station appeared – the Begovista hut. It seemed large but wasn’t really. There were two tables set up outside for runners (although you could go inside I didn’t). The spread was the same as the previous aid station – salami, goat cheese, bread with tomato paste, bread with chocolate spread, Turkish delight, banana and cucumber with as much salt as you wanted. Annoyingly the water was all in big (15L) containers that were difficult to tip and fill yourself (and no one was helping). I filled my bottles and then sat and ate some bread and chocolate. They’d already run out of coke at the aid station which was annoying as I was looking forward to some sugar! As I was sitting, Reka soon came in followed by Ale who was determined to stop here. This seemed inevitable and he’d been talking about it for a while so I was not going to try and convince him otherwise. I offered to stay with them both but ended up leaving alone.
By this point we’d climbed less than half of the total elevation of second climb and still had close to 900m to go. The rest of the climb was a lot harder than before. We started weaving through the dense forests, which was a little more tricky to navigate (I thought the course marking was a little sparse here) and the climb was much, much steeper and rockier. It took more effort to push up with a consistent pace and I was definitely moving more slowly. After what felt like an eternity we emerged from the trees, high up on the mountain side with more incredible views all around. The mountain started to flatten out a little and we navigated across it through low level bushes with no clear path. In the distance I could see the real summit with the outline of runners making the way up and onto it. It was slow progress crossing the mountain and starting the climb which was all off track. The flag markings were clear but there was no defined way to follow them without a track, so I just headed in the most direct way I could. The higher we went, the more rocky the ground became. We climbed the last 300 or so meters over a few kms.
There was a short ridge line section with a sheer drop to our left but a spectacular view looking back over the mountain range we’d ascended a few hours earlier. To our right the drop was much more gradual and there was a path to follow. Along the path I went enjoying the views and wondering where the sounds of people were coming from. It soon became clear as we started to descend quite sharply along a boulder section and the voices could be heard from below. The little scramble caused my legs to wobble a little as we traversed a few 100m using all fours to descend. Once down, we turned back and would begin the big descent off the mountain and down to the next aid station.
The descent was quite fast. Pretty much all of it was off track and straight down. It was steep, but doable at a good pace. I fast walked as the rocks persisted and moved more quickly with a jog when the ground allowed. I felt good and found myself overtaking runners, skipping over lumpy tuffs of ground, streams and large boulders that were now more sporadically scattered over the mountain. The further down we went we ran back into forests. Here we crossed many streams and in places the track was quite slippery and a little muddy too. I was so glad it was a beautiful day with dry conditions for the run. It wasn’t too steep in the forest and I was able to maintain a run and navigate the terrain without too much difficulty passing more and more runners along the way. We broke free of the forest and onto a dirt track, rounding a bend to the delight of the third aid station which marked the end of a 10km section that took over 3 hours. It was definitely harder than the first climb! I’d now covered about 40km and two of the three climbs so was ready to enjoy a quick break…
I hated this aid station though and it wasn’t the rest I needed or wanted. As soon as I walked in the smell of cigarettes hit me. It was like a wall of filth slapping me in the chops. There were people sitting and smoking in the hut. The section of the hut segregated for the runners was small and cramped and the foul smell of smoke lingered above the food. The small space presented the same food offerings on two tables and two more tables for runners to sit/eat. The tables were wet and dirty and I contributed to the mess by spilling more water when trying to fill my bottles from the big 15L containers. I took a few minutes to drink and eat but desperately wanted to leave as quickly as I could. I found Bulgaria as a whole on this trip quite unpleasant because of the attitude to smoking. It’s culture and behaviour is stuck in the past with smoking allowed indoors and people inconsiderately chain smoking every and anywhere. I found it very off putting. In this environment it’s not something I want to encounter. I’m out enjoying nature and pushing my physical and mental capacity enough without the intrusion of other people’s disgusting habits. So I swigged some Coke, filled a third bottle of water and left quickly.
The next section began with a short stint back in the forests before what I dubbed as the valley of 1000 cows and 100 streams as the third climb started far more moderately that the previous two. Through the valley we hiked pretty much in a straight line for probably about 7 kilometres. There were vague paths and sporadic marking that we roughly followed in a straight line. The vague path that had been eroded in places and was narrow and difficult to stay in without tripping over your own feet, so I found myself hopping from side to side along the edge of the path. All along this section were cows grazing, loads of them. Some small and skinny some large and healthy. A few had calves and some had horses for company or dogs guarding them. None of them were phased or bothered by the runners though. At one point a large cow came out of the trees directly in front of me and looked quite shocked to see me walking towards her. They were all very placid.
The navigation through the valley also meant crossing loads of small streams back and forth. I was quite surprised how wet wet and boggy in places it was, although I shouldn’t be with the majestic mountains on either side of me! For the most part I managed to keep my feet dry and kept pace with the runners ahead and behind me. Along this section I started talking to a Bulgarian, David, who we’d been leaping frogging each other for a few kms. We chatted away and wondered together where the valley was taking us. Up ahead the peaks came more and more into view and it started to become a guess as to how we’d be making our exit from the valley. The valley started to gradually disappear and the higher we climbed, the larger and more prominent the mountain peaks became. However we would exit was going to be tough! Eventually you could see the runners climbing to the left, little dots on the side of the mountain. The marshy grassland became drier and the rocks and boulders started to appear again. After part of the climb we passed a lake with incredible reflections and then began to turn towards a saddle in the mountains, this was our exit route. It looked steep. The closer we got the clearer it became, we’d be climbing a rock slide to escape!
I don’t think this section was as bad as it looked. Really it wasn’t that long, although it was fairly steep. The main problem was that my body was tired. We’d done probably close to 4000m of vertical gain by now so my legs were understandably fatigued. So this last push required some hard graft and deep breathes. We climbed around the side of the rocks to the right, pretty much straight up and then traversed the rock slide to the other side. Once over we followed short switchback paths back and forth to the top, which were a little more pleasant and much easier. The silence of the mountains was occasionally broken with a cheer/yell from every runner before me who reached the summit. When it was my turn I think I just said ‘wow’. The view was something else, in all directions, it was spectacular. It was about 7pm and the day was starting to end. Behind us the sunset created incredible shadows on the mountains, ahead of us many lakes sparkled in the dying daylight and many more mountains were still visible in the orange sky. I took a load of pictures and then descended. Running where I could as we passed the lakes and headed to the final little incline.
Not all the climbing was done just yet though and we had one final climb to get up and over the mountains. The climb itself wasn’t as memorable as the previous one. The rocks were loose but the path was defined and gradual. From the summit we descended a scree slope with twisting switchbacks swooping down steeply which was a bit painful on the feet and ankles. Ahead of us lay more rocks as far as the eyes could see in the diminishing light of day. I was hoping that the final descent would be better than the two previous ones (it looked a bit more gentle on the route profile) and I was keen to get the rocky section over with quickly. I caught back up with David and two other runners just as the remaining sunlight faded and had to stop and take out my head torch (I was optimistically hoping I’d make it to the final aid station before I needed my head torch). I fell into line behind them and we all walked briskly together in the darkness. I could have run but quite enjoyed the pace being set. The trails were still very rocky and not the most forgiving on the feet after over 50km. My ankles were quite sore and I hoped the trails would improve the further down we went, so I stayed in line with the others. Everyone was eager for the last aid station but it never quite seemed to appear. Frustratingly I don’t think we’d covered as much distance on the long climb as we’d like to believe we had. We probably moaned for a good few kms before lights eventually appeared further up on the trail and the aid station became visible.
I was feeling the evening chill now and was hoping we’d be inside so I could layer up and not get too cold whilst refuelling. Annoyingly, despite there being a hut, we were once again cramped into a small space outside and once again served the same limited options. Getting water here was also painful as the large bottles had some hand pumps on them that weren’t really working and the volunteer was trying to fix them and tip the half empty one into the other so I couldn’t access the water when I wanted (he seemed to prioritise this over filling people’s bottles). Whilst waiting I heard the others suggest we continue together as a group. I’ll admit I wasn’t really interested in the idea and was ready to be alone and wanted to now ‘run it in’. There was a bit over 10k to go. I told them I was cold (which I was) so wanted to get going sooner. Despite it all though, we did end up leaving together (I must have faffed a bit!). So I made sure to be at the front of the pack and upped the pace, walking faster than before as we moved over the rocky ground.
As the rocks turned to gravel I started running. The group of four then became two groups of two as David joined me running. He agreed he wanted it to be over now sooner rather than later. He ran fast though, faster than me. I kept up as much as I could and he was a great pacer for me. For the next 10k we ran when we could. Through fire tracks, gravel tracks, down roads and more forest paths. After about two thirds of the final section, we left the gravel tracks behind and alternated between the main road (which I think led to all the ski resorts) and the forest paths that cut a straight line through the hairpin bends. The marking was a bit hard to follow at times but we pretty much got through it without error thanks to the headtorches picking up the reflective tape in the pitch black darkness of the night. Before long we left the wooded areas for good and followed the main road all the way back to town. We had about 4kms left to run and now re-joined the road we started climbing on some 16 hours earlier.
Despite running at a healthy pace, it was still a long way into town and the finish line. The long straight down hill to town was about 2kms, the stretch through the town another 1km then we had the cobble streets to the finish. We passed many runners from the 38km, 66km and 160km races as we pushed to the end without stopping. At the finish line David’s family met him and then I followed across the line to be greeted by my friends (except for Vanna and Reka who were still out on course). I was glad to be able to stop!
At the finish I sat and layered up with my spare clothes and joined the others as we waited for Reka to finish and Vanna to return. Unfortunately Vanna, Gif and Ale had to stop their races. But each had an adventure of their own getting back from the aid stations where they stopped. Overall I had a great time on the Pirin ultra. The route is tough, technical and challenging. The landscape is breathtakingly beautiful. It’s such an incredible place to run and one I won’t forget any time soon. What an experience it was!
The downside of this adventure is that there are elements of the race organisation that could (need to) be dramatically improved. For an established event the simple changes seem obvious from a runner’s perspective. The aid station offerings really are quite poor. The limited and repetitive options were drab. Nothing sweet and very little variety in the savoury. No hot food or drinks and cramped set ups at half of the aid stations. Providing some additional basics (crisps? candy? another fruit option?) would make a huge difference. As would something hot. It wasn’t really a problem on the 66km course (I could carry enough of my own supplies not to be impacted) but I was speaking to a British guy doing the 100 miler and he made the same comment. They had no hot drinks, not even hot water, for them and only once he had some hot soup. Some of those runners were out on course for 50 hours! Also, stop the smoking at the aid stations!
The biggest criticism I’d have though is the strange stance/approach to DNFs (Did Not finish – retiring from the race) the organisation seems to have. They have cut offs so you can get timed out and you can also DNF at your own decision, but it seems that there is no provision to ensure participants get back to Bansko from the other side of the mountain range safely… Ale and Gif spent many hours getting back from the second aid station. They were told their choices were to continue or cut the route short by walking 10km (with 1000m elevation) directly to the third aid station (but with no directions) and then hitch hike from the town. How is that safe for someone who has judged themselves not in a suitable condition to continue?! They only managed to get back as another participant dropping out offered them a lift from their partner, but they had to walk 5km back to the main road to meet them.
Vanna’s experience is even more wild with a group of 10 drop outs at the third aid station told there is no way to get back to Bansko and they would have to stay the night. Eventually, the hut manager (?) reluctantly agreed to get them a taxi from a nearby town but charged them an extortionate 300 Bulgarian Lev to drive them off the mountain to the main road, Squeezing 8 of them in one car. There he’d arranged for two associates to drive them back to Bansko, again at an additional inflated cost. The race director eventually intervened (only after one of the participants called an ambulance after feeling unwell) and drove to intersect them at a petrol station where he argued with the drivers and made the runners change vehicles. Vanna eventually got back to Bansko around midnight but there still seems to be an expectation that he is going to pay a few hundred pound to someone for the privilege?! Mental.
I think as a race organiser you have to ensure the safety of your participants. You have to accommodate participants dropping out. If not ensuring transportation back to the start, making it clear that if you do drop out, you won’t be given transport and will be expected to find your own way back. As I finish writing this it seems there is a change in organisers taking place, perhaps with it improvements will follow…
Run With Dai 