With a month and a half to go before one of the top trail runs on the SA calendar kicks off in the snow fields of Rhodes, last years adventures are a reminder of how frosty it gets in sunny SA …
It is the day before the Rhodes Trail Run and we are sitting in the sun outside the village pub, watching runners steadily arriving in their dusty 4X4s. The cars are covered in mud and dust (clearly none of the Sandton set are here — these cars are used for what they were built for) and as our circle grows, the chatter becomes childishly excited.
The Rhodes Trail Run is legendary in running circles — it is an invitation-only 52km ultra-marathon through the steep mountains of the Southern Drakensberg. Ordinarily this would be an effort but the Rhodes organisers, Evie and Darrell Raubenheimer, have taken the sadistic measure of holding the event in the middle of winter. The conditions would make even Shackleton shiver: runners will have to negotiate ankle-deep snow, bitter winds and minus temperatures.
Darrell is a former runner — I imagine his 6ft frame sails over rocky paths easily — but it is Evie’s efficiency and fairness that ensures this event runs seamlessly year after year. She once famously sent her son back to fetch his ID book as race rules insisted there could be no entry without a positive identity check.
But it is mid-day and pleasant as we relax in the sun outside the Walkerbouts Pub, sipping wine and talking of the efforts ahead. In the warmth, minus temperatures are inconceivable but it is all the growing group of runners can talk about. The night before we arrived, the thermometer reached a bitter minus fifteen. We marvel at the teenagers from Port Elizabeth’s St Dominic’s Priory High School, who have spent two days camping in the mountains in order to man the most extreme checkpoints. High up in the valleys they have already measured a Siberian minus seventeen.
Rhodes is one of the few towns left in South Africa where Pam Golding hasn’t set up shop with tourist attention focused on the nearby ski resort of Tiffindell. It is quintessential quaint — an enclave of Britishness in the Eastern Cape. The houses in the village are 1820 settler marvels, with wrap-around verandas and broekielace skirting. The surrounding mountains are a testament to homesickness — romantically named after peaks in the Lake District and Scotland — Ben Macdui, Helvellyn, Skiddaw, Ben Nevis. The difference is that at 1800m, Rhodes’ position at the bottom of these soaring peaks is far higher than the top of their more famous British counterparts.
As the sun sets the change in temperature is dramatic. Wine is replaced with heavy Michelin-man down jackets, 2-litre bottles of sherry and a festive dinner in the town hall. This is a village affair — all the locals have cooked large pots of something: lasagne and stew are dished out in hearty portions and the soup is the best I’ve ever tasted. The chef cheerfully tells me that the secret ingredient is beef from cows slaughtered that morning.
As an invite-only event, I’m not running the race but have been asked to marshal at the first checkpoint. Darrell assures me it’ll be great, painting a picture of blazing camp fires and grateful runners singing my praises as they stream past at speed. Warmed by more than a few glasses of Old Brown, I am filled with missionary-like zeal, determined to deliver inspirational wishes while efficiently dishing out Energade.
Rolling out of my sleeping bag into the pre-dawn morning is traumatic. It is a numbing minus fourteen — to cold to snow. Cars are started before the kettle is put on at 4.30am. Engines struggle to turn over in the bitter cold and credit cards are hauled out to scrape ice off the windows. I’m introduced to Gary and his team who are going to oversee my general cheerleading and who don’t seem too phased by the bleary-eyed wreck they’re presented with.
In the darkness we head out along the dirt track to the bottom of Mavis Bank, known amongst the runners as the beginning of the climb that makes this race legendary. We set up our tables outside an old homestead on the banks of the River Bell. It is almost completely iced up and beneath the large sheets of white, dart frisky schools of trout. Rumour has it that this is the best spot in the country to go wild trout fishing. In the cold, I can’t think of a sport I’d least like to do.
Our Energade is frozen and we can’t get the gas going to make a pot of tea as that’s apparently frozen too. There is snow scattered across the fields. We huddle round a pathetically small wood fire, trying to defrost what we can and pour it into cups for the runners. As the sun slowly rises above the mountain, a cry goes out and we see the leader sprinting over the hill. He’s motoring, skipping over the rocks with ease. We seamlessly slip into a routine that becomes familiar over the next hour — handing out drinks, taking ticket numbers and chatting to those who stop for a breather.
Almost everyone is sporting some kind of cold-damage. Shoes have frozen instantly after the river crossings, making it difficult to run on the trail. Icicles hang from beards, and eyes are streaming in the cold. Sweat freezes quickly adding to the discomfort. Runners struggle to hold cups in their gloved hands. We are all waiting for the sun to stroll out and banish the chill.
And so the race continues — up the steep 1:3 climb up Mavis Bank to the Lesotho Border where St Dominic’s Priory High School is dishing out sherry at their high-altitude checkpoint. The route then heads past the ski slopes of Ben McDui, taking runners up to their highest point of 2680m, before leading them onto a pathless section of rocks, ankle-twisting grass and snow drifts. Local children run alongside trying unsuccessfully to score sweets and energy bars from runners, who are now heading straight into an unrepenting wind. I spot my spinning instructor, an Irishman from Belfast, who sprints past with a blue nose and a cheery wave.
The views along the route are astonishing with the mountains white with thick snow. Only the winter brown betrays that this is a South African landscape and not the lower slopes of the Alps.
The finish is festive as runners continue to cross the line throughout the day. Sherry, a constant theme throughout this race, is being passed round, encouraging ever more dramatic war stories. There’s the guy who collapsed with hypothermia on the top of Mavis Bank and had to be carted down the mountain. There are the tales of stumbling through deep snow, twisting ankles in the hidden terrain beneath. There’s an argument on the best techniques to use to keep breathing when it’s so cold that your lungs burn. There’s a bit of a bet going as to which is the best view — the top of Mavis Bank or the road past Tiffindell. There are stories of trying to bite into chocolate that’s too hard to eat. Of pulling on balaclavas to counteract the wind chill at the top of the mountains. Surprisingly there is agreement on the worst part of the route — the final downhill that has runners dropping several hundred metres, which obliterates knees and quads.
Clutching my sherry, I eavesdrop on conversations, determined to understand what it is that motivates people to run 52km in such Siberian temperatures and for fun. Ironically those sporting the most relaxed smiles are the people I’d spotted en route vowing never to do the race again.
The next morning is marked by the thunder of 4X4s warming up for the journey home. None of the Toyota Landcruisers can start and there’s smug waving from the Landrover owners as they sail past, to tarred roads and warmer temperatures.
By mid-day the village is cleared of interlopers and is settling back into its relaxed routine. Sitting outside in the sun, sipping wine and talking through the ups and downs of the race, it’s almost as if I’ve done the run myself.
Maybe. Just maybe.
Next year.
Facts:
Getting there:
Rhodes is easily accessible with good roads all the way through to the village. Head to Aliwal North on the N6, follow the R396 road to Barkly East and then onto dirt road for the last 50km to 60km into Rhodes. Conditions are good all the way through, though the dirt road can get slippy in rain. It is well signposted.
Accommodation:
The Walkerbouts Inn ([email protected]) and Rhodes Hotel ([email protected] ) are the main places to stay. Holiday homes are easily rented. Look online at http://www.rhodesvillage.co.za for more information
Trail run:
For more on the trail run visit http://rhodesrun.za.net/. Entries are open for the 2009 run, to be held on 18th July. It is possible to be put on a waiting list or be a substitute on someone else’s entry.
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