As Freddie Mercury’s iconic vocals bellowed out “The show must go on” through the early morning air in Bex, a sea of arms shot up, and a cheer went through the field. The race director gave the signal, and we were off embarking on a 100km journey with over 7,000m of elevation gain across the rugged Vaud Alps, bound for the shores of Lake Geneva at Montreux.
Climbing into the Alpine Sky (Bex to Solalex)
The adventure kicked off with a relentless 2,100m vertical ascent over the first 10km. I’m not sure how many trail races you’ll find with such an intense start! For the first few hours, it was a steady, rhythmic hike through dense forest until we finally breached the tree line. Above the canopy, the open mountain revealed an undulating ridge tracing our upward trajectory. Crossing a final crest, the true summit ascent came into view: a steep, loose scree scramble up to the top. Along the way we passed a few hikers who cheered us on.
Reaching the summit made every step worth it. Panoramic views unfolded in every direction – tracing the deep valleys below, endless alpine peaks framing the horizon, and Lake Geneva glistening in the morning sun.
The initial descent was pure alpine fun, gradually transitioning into technical, rocky terrain. We navigated narrow ledge trails equipped with fixed chains where the mountain dropped away sharply, along with a short ladder climb. Leaving the exposed rock behind, we plummeted down steep grassy slopes to the first aid station before tackling the next forested climb and a fast, switchback-heavy descent.
After more steep climbing on forest trail and sealed roads we descend again on more steep switchbacks. At one point racing passed a group of enthusiastic scouts who screamed and cheered runners passed. At the second aid station, around the 25km mark, after climbing through farmland and passing a lively hamlet, I suggested to Matt that I push on solo. Our training and goals over the summer are a little different, so we said our goodbyes while he chatted with a runner sporting a familiar Lofoten Arctic Triple buff, and I set my own rhythm for the next big effort.
What followed was hands-down the most spectacular section of the course. A long, steep climb up grassy pastures brought us out at the top of a massive horseshoe valley. From there, a smooth, flowing single track trail swept around the curve of the horseshoe, offering breath taking views before dropping down a loose scree slide into the valley. It was then a long but beautiful hike up through the valley, up and over the saddle to the other side of the mountains. We then descended sharply towards Solalex. Solalex was buzzing – packed outdoor terraces, local artisans, traditional folk musicians, and a welcome spread at the aid station where I happily fuelled up on fresh kiwi.
Chasing Thunderstorms (Solalex to Le Sepey)
Leaving the buzz of Solalex, we climbed straight back onto steep farmland. The course rhythm here settled into long, grinding switchbacks through the forest, interspersed with fast paved road drops and subsequent climbs.
As we wove higher and higher under an overhead cable car, the terrain turned increasingly rocky, eventually leading to the checkpoint at ‘The Cross’. As I sat refuelling, a deep rumble echoed through the sky. Thunderstorms were moving in fast. I packed up quickly, naively hoping I could outrun what was coming. Halfway up the next ascent, the thunder grew deafening, accompanied by frequent flashes of lightning. Then, the skies opened with torrential rain. I whipped on my waterproof jacket and pushed hard to crest the pass.By the time I hit the descent toward Le Sepey, the trails had transformed into flowing streams. I was utterly drenched.
Then came one of the most surreal moments of the entire race: running alongside a herd of cows. Seeking shelter from the storm—and perhaps intrigued by a lone runner—a group of cows broke into a trot beside me. As we cleared the tree line, more joined in, creating a full herd trotting right behind me into a small village. The local farmers were racing out as we arrived; I silently prayed they didn’t think I’d orchestrated a bovine breakout!
From here we ran through more forests and along a busy road before reaching a beautiful lake. We dropped and ran a section on the side of the lake then backed up and traced through the surrounding forest before re-joining the road near Le Sepey. As we neared the town there was a beautiful old bride we crossed bringing us out of the trails and toward the aid station which we reached by crossing the train tracks and weaving through tunnels under the road.
Chaos, Electricity, and the Night Shift (Le Sepey to Chaude)
Arriving at Le Sepey—the main life base—was pure chaos. The aid station floor was flooded, chairs were scarce, and food was running low. I managed to negotiate a chair from another runner’s crew, downed some luke-warm bouillon with some raw noodles, and grabbed some dry clothes from my pack. Eventually, a fresh tray of hot pasta arrived, giving me the fuel I needed to tackle the night ahead.
Leaving Le Sepey, I tackled a punchy 800m climb. Feeling surprisingly fresh, I locked into a steady cadence, grinding up through mixed forest and paved mountain roads. In what felt like no time at all I reached the top and was descending on road again. It didn’t make sense in my mind. I was expecting an aid station before the final push to the summit. The descent kept on coming though. By the time I did reach Luan, my headtorch was driving a path through the darkness and I was descending on steep descents of the sort that make your feet burn. As I rested at the aid station I checked my bearings and it made sense now. I’d mis-read the symbols on profile map as the organisers had also marked out Cols and other waypoints. All was good.
As I pushed toward Joux Verte, the storm returned with a vengeance. Torrential rain turned the forest descents into slick gauntlets of wet roots and greasy rock. After the race we realised that we’d run a slight course variation on this section, one that sent us up a brutal, rocky forest climb—arguably the steepest of the day.
Near the top, I got chatting with two British runners, Dale and David, who were on Day 6 of the 400km Crossing Switzerland race, with just 20km left to go. Incredible inspiring! After the summit, further down, navigating a dark pasture, I followed a few other runners as we had to duck under an active electric fence. My small amount of agility deserted me as I did so, resulting in a sharp electric shock that left my left leg tingling for the next few minutes – an effective wake-up call in the early hours of the morning!
From here we ran a long road section, a slightly odd one as there was some heavy industry work happening way up on the mountain and there were a few huge expanses of sealed concrete like giant carparks which we ran across. To finish the section, it was back into the steep and wet forest trails to descend to Chaude.
The Gorge and the Quiet Shoreline (Chaude to Montreux)
At Chaude, there was a planned course deviation, taking us away from the high, exposed ridgeline due to lightning risks. Instead, we dropped down a long, treacherous grassy descent into deep woodland. We spent the next few kilometres picking our way across undulating, technical singletrack, crossing several bouncing, slick wooden bridges.
A long, steady road climb brought us to the final aid station. The rain was coming down heavy again, so I kept my stop brief. I was ready to be done. The final descent was a 800m drop over 7km. It started with steep, tight switchbacks littered with wet roots and slick rocks that severely tested my tired quads. Slipping a few times, I slowed my pace right down to play it safe. I also remember stepping tentatively as a few times I spotted frogs just chilling on the wet footpaths. A dangerous game they were playing this night!
Leaving the trees, we dropped directly into the Chauderon Gorge – the final natural obstacle before Montreux. In the pitch black, tracing the riverbed meant navigating wet rock ledges and plunging down endless, slick concrete steps. Even in the dark, you could tell how dramatic the gorge was; during the day, it must be incredible. These last few kms were filled with the sound of water flowing and rushing off the mountain.
Exiting the gorge, the trail met the pavement for the final 1km flat stretch into Montreux. I jogged along the quiet streets and out onto the shore of Lake Geneva, crossing the finish line just after 6:00 AM, a little over 24 hours after starting.
The finish line was dead silent – no crowds, no announcer, just the partner of another finisher standing in the stillness. After a moment of surreal quiet, I asked if there were medals, which there were, along with hot food inside the market hall. I sat and ate some food (cous cous and then the greatest, freshest jam doughnut you can imagine!) before grabbing my drop bag and walking back to the hotel for a warm shower. About an hour later I headed back to the finish line and watched the start of the 30km race before cheering Matt across the line. We’d completed an unforgettable journey in the Swiss Alps.
Some Thoughts
- MXTREME is a proper mountain ultra – massive climbs, long technical descents, and stunning Vaud Alps scenery.
- there are numerous, notable paved mountain roads sections between the trails. While they beat up the quads, they did allow me to cover distance quickly.
- The weather turned fast. One minute I’m hot and sweaty, the next I was soaked through my waterproofs. The mandatory kit was put to good use on this one!
- The organisation was pretty good and the logistics of the event super easy
Run With Dai 