Frásögn Bretans Jon Steele - 2006

Jon Steele er jaxl úr breska hernum þar sem hann var í fallhlífasveitum hersins.  Fínn kall sem nánast ómögulegt er að skilja!!

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THE NORTH FACE TOUR DE MOUNT BLANC ULTRA-TRAIL RACE

CHAMONIX  25^th  - 27t^h  AUGUST 2006 

At last, here I was, after near on 9 months of intense training, early morning 3 hour  runs and long evening workouts all in preparation for the next 30-40 hours, The Tour de Mount Blanc race dubbed to be ‘Europe's Hardest Footrace' 100 miles around  the Mount Blanc range, through France, Switzerland and Italy, climbing over 9000metres (around 30,000ft). Behind me 2494 French, Swiss, Italian runners and a handful of German, Spanish and Brits.

French Foreign music blasted from the Huge speakers positioned at either side of  the start line, after a French race official finishes his speech, American Topher Gaylord (The North Face European Marketing Director) gives us all a prep talk, and then  5,4,3,2,1 and were are off! The streets are lined with thousands of spectators and supporters for miles. Five miles later and we arrive at the Les Houches checkpoint. ‘Look that guys British he's wearing  a Union Jack Buff" and two English lads run over to me and high five me, they run with me for 5 minutes and cheer me on, what a buzz. The first major climb comes, 1400 metres climb and boy its steep, the climb from Les Contamines to the Croix du  Bonhomme 2500 metres. I swap my Sunglasses for my head torch After an hour or so, I look behind me and witness an awesome sight, a trail of light  miles long transpiring from hundreds of head torches and continuing in front of me spiralling up to the summit and disappearing out of view. Three checkpoints later and I'm at the Col de la Seigne, 2516 metres above sea level, nearly twice as high as the summit of Ben Nevis. The Col is manned by several guys in Down suits trying to keep warm around a small fire, behind them are  two yellow North Face Expedition tents, one I recognise as being a Mountain 25, the other tent is twice the size, at this point  they look so appealing.

 

After hours of climbing  and descending  over ice, snow and  ankle snapping boulders in the darkness, daylight starts to arrive and the Mount Blanc range awakens, the sight is mesmerising as the sun  displays the Glacier to its full beauty. Several checkpoints later  I reach the Italian town of Courmanyer, the first main aid station , a place where the majority of runners will quit and get a coach back to Chamonix. The aid station is held in the local Leisure centre and resembles a scene from a war film, competitors queuing up for the  medical room, some with broken bones, nasty cuts, dislocations, sprains, torn hamstrings, twisted ankles and others suffering from dehydration, hypothermia and just plain exhaustion . I pass by the massage room and find the food hall, stepping over sleeping runners on the way. Soup, chocolate, coca-cola and several mugs of tea later I leave for the next checkpoint  passing the coaches which are waiting to take  the retiring runners back to Chamonix. I could catch this coach and spend the rest of the day sunbathing  by the Hotel pool with my family and later go out for a meal at some swanky restaurant  and hydrate on a couple of bottles of good French Red  instead of running/staggering/crawling for the next 16 + hours. The climb up to the Refuge Bertone checkpoint  is tough, the heat  pounds down on my shoulders, I stay focused on the path as  hissing comes from the undergrowth on either side of the path. On reaching the checkpoint I notice a man wearing a Stormsheild hydration system, must be a Brit, the first Brit I've seen so far, I enquire  ‘Hi mate, u English?' ‘No Irish !‘ he replies, we chat for a while, he tells me he did the ‘Marathon Des Sable' last year and found it a walk in the park compared to this.

After  what seems an eternity of pain the  highest  peak of the race is reached ‘The Grand Col Ferret' 2537m, 60 miles into the race we  are now in Switzerland but the weather reminds me more of home, torrential rain and cold. The paths up to the Col have transformed into mud slides, due to the now persistent rain and 600 runners plus, tramping up them, every time I step forward I slide back. The ascent is very slow and super tough, I pass on the way up numerous runners leant over their poles in tears. After the summit we descend 1400metres into the woods around Praz De Fort, the track leads into a very narrow path  along side a huge drop down to a fast running river. It is now pitch black except for the light  from my head torch and there are no other runners in sight except for the person running up to me who puts his hand out to pass me something, I reach out for whatever it is, then he vanishes!? Where?? , nowhere it was a hallucination! After near on 30 hours of running without sleep my body starts to shut down, I start to sleep run, forcing myself to wake up, so I don't fall into the river 50 or so feet below, while I'm awake  I start to hallucinate or  am I sleep running & dreaming?.

La Fouly and then Praz de fort checkpoints pass by and I follow a bunch of Swiss runners up the steep wooded climb to  Champex Lac. The Champex Lac checkpoint is held at a sports complex similar to Courmanyer, I pass by the Petzl stand , Petzl staff are handing out spare batteries and checking competitors head torch bulbs. At Champex I wrestle with the decision to quit, my  legs, very dodgy ankle and feet are screaming out in pain and have been for hours, but  now  my neuralgia kicks in severely too! I take a couple of prescription strength codeine wash them down with tea, wait for them to kick in, after an eternity I decide to face the hard facts and admit to myself that carrying on would be stupid and foolhardy!