A Novices View of the Rhodes Trail Run : 2008
When you receive a complimentary glass, okay it was in a drinking cup, of OB’s while waiting in the queue for registration you know that the race is different. But by 5pm the temperature had already started to edge towards single figures and below, heaven help us at 6am ‘get-up-and-slip-into-very-warm-kit’ time tomorrow morning.
The hall where registration takes place, under a welcome sign that says “Rhodes – The Breathtaking Trail Run”, is a hubbub of colour, noise, runners, friends, children (shiveringly cold children!) and the aroma of good home cooked farm fare.
Driving into Rhodes we were met by mountains covered with snow. The questions on everyone’s lips at registration: “Would the route be changed?” “Would we still have to run that new section if the snow is deep?” and “How cold will it be tomorrow?”
Evie, who has been the Race Director for 11 years, seems to know each runner personally. Amazing, very different. That glass of sherry, some managed to sweet talk their way into two or more glasses, kept the intrusive cold at bay until the pre-race registration pack was collected.
What a smorgasbord of a Christmas stocking that turned out to be. Out popped a specially engraved stainless steel travel mug (this race is different), a beautiful blue Buff (that will be useful I’m sure), a survival space blanket (very different), a safety whistle (extremely different), followed by fruit in jelly, sweets, a magazine, lip balm (in this cold that will be handy) a bottle of spring water and a pamphlet with articles from 3 pioneers of the race who will be running their 20th Rhodes.
Woken at 6am as the Church bells peal, that must have been Evie, something to do with a race tradition, followed by a car driving up and down the streets hooting. Well, everyone in the hamlet of Rhodes must now be awake, including some stiffs in the local cemetery. Although, if they are not running or heading up the mountain in this cold they must be daft to poke their nose outdoors.
At the final pre-race briefing 10 minutes before the start we are reminded that feeding stations are every 10km (different), warnings of ice covered rocks and cold river crossings, DQ if found littering, official start temperature is minus 14°C, MINUS 14°C. For the umpteenth time I ask myself, ‘self what are you doing here?’. This is different.
Everyone asks about the temperature at Rhodes. This year was cold, freakin cold. Officially it was minus 14°C at the start, but you can drop that to at least minus 16°C and I’m sure you’d be closer to what it actually was. I mean water froze in toilet bowls, geysers burst, water pipes froze…and runners cried.
That Buff is working a treat but my feet have disappeared into a void of numbness. Maybe I should have wrapped it around my shoes. A moments silence then a start song followed by a blast from a safety whistle. 7a.m. and we are moving, that whistle was the start ‘gun’, this race is very different.
I’m experiencing the Rhodes Trail Run, and it is much more an experience than a race.
This tiny corner of the north East Cape tucked under the Southern Drakensberg has welcomed us with vistas of snow, mountain tops looking Himalayan as about 660 shivering feet start out following the BellRiver to the Kloppershoek.
A couple of runners head back before the 8km mark, their backs covered with sheets of ice, the cold too much for them. Their problem is that in these temperatures the water pipes in all the Victorian houses are frozen, so no hot bath or shower. They will have to wait until after lunch time for that luxury. This race is a back-of-the-pack runner’s revenge, no showers for the winners, hot showers for the rest.
Rhodes lies at 1800m so the air is thin, and at minus whatever Celsius more difficult to get into lungs. The first feeding station arrives at 8km and has it slushy iced Pepsi.
A few mutters as feet get wet at a river crossing. It’s now colder than at the start. Stalagmite icicles dangle from chins, beards and thermal hats are frost covered. The first check point is reached. Hydration packs are frozen, as are drinking bottles and energy goos are solid. Did I say different? Hand in a sticker, suck some frozen Pepsi and lick an icicle of Energade and into the kloof. Single track, slippery single track. It’s quiet, just the muffled sound of heavy breathing and a quiet curse as someone discovers their camera batteries are frozen so no ‘wish-you-were-here-instead-of-me’ photo.
The single track makes for difficult running; in fact most are walking and shuffling. ‘Pole pole’ and still over 35 km to go.
It must have been well below the village’s -14°C out here in the rocky confines of the kloof next to this frozen river. Yet here in this frighteningly frigid center earth is the third feeding station. Kids from St Dominic’s Priory, a PE school, hiked in here on the Friday, overnighted and set up shop. I’m surprised they survived the night. They are offering peach schnapps. This is different. One runner had 10 shots. Those kids are smiling; maybe they’ve sampled their stock. Maybe the only logical thing at minus plenty.
Another river crossing. A splash. Someone tried to ‘rock hop’ and slipped on the ice covered surface. She was warned. Maybe the Buff covered her ears blocking the route director’s warning. Too late now. Frozen and muttering. Different indeed. The yellow and orange flags marking the route are easy to follow. Wish the route chosen was as easy.
At last, two yellow flags marking a fence crossing and the Mavis Bank sign. Who lugged that sign down here? Mavis Bank is legendary. She looks pretty. There is snow up there. But that snow is far up there. Lungs burning, pulse hammering my forehead, feet slipping on the ice, beautiful view when I look down, but there is still more up than down. My turn to become contemplative. Not much chatter. The race website did say this is a ‘conversation stopper’. Horrors, there is a false top, I’ll have to do that surge to the top all over again, although no-one noticed the first time so bugger it I wont.
Check point and sticker time. Thank goodness Evie keeps track of us as it gives me a chance to try and control these wobbly legs. Although I’m not sure if it’s the cold or exertion. An amazing feast up top here. I’m made to feel like I’m the first one here by Julia and the girls. They must have been here for hours in the cold, and someone mentioned a vehicle stuck due to frozen diesel. Soup, tea, coffee, sherry, sandwiches, three kinds of sweets, potatoes, bananas (frozen), oranges (frozen but nice and crunchy) and the world’s very best pancakes. I take mine right from the pan with cinnamon. They are being made by the Tintinger family. Alan Tintinger, a veteran of numerous Rhodes Runs, now comes to support and feed us. Different race, it’s sub zero for goodness sake and the family are out here in the snow. Snow, there is snow. Enough to make a snow angel, throw snowballs and make a small snowman. This is African snow. Different.
No wind thankfully or it could have been quite miserable up in the snow line, but still slippery along the ice patches and through the snow. Feet are cold again, serves me right for playing in the snow and getting some of it into my shoes.
Past Lesotho View, at 2677m the highest spot on the run, any another day I’d hop over the fence for a trans-border photo but not today. I need to save some energy, I’ve only covered half the route. I pass the mountain rescue medical crew along this snow covered border track. Comforting to know they are nearby.
Another checkpoint and time to rest while I pull out another sticker. Biscuits and sweets on offer here. Best part of this feeding station, other than the most beautiful backdrop of a snow covered Ben MacDhui (at 3001m the highest mountain in the Cape) is the rugby score. The Bokke beat the All Blacks at the ‘House of Pain’. Trouble is that my personal pain is not beaten, in fact becoming somewhat more noticeable.
Follow the flags up the hill to the ridge and fence-line. Another fence crossing and more snow, much more than I anticipated, up to my knees in some places. This is why I’m here. Crisp blue sky, that high altitude crispness and slight chill that makes one feel just so special, so good to be on this planet. Different.
Most races at this stage it’s a grind, here the natural beauty and a view that goes forever is well, breathtaking. The Hooggenoeg Ridge section is absolutely stunning. Camera batteries have thawed so some stop to take souvenir photographs. It’s a very special spot. It’s different.
It’s a bit of a clamber up to HooggenoegPeak, at least there is a style to go over the fence, and the view is well worth the effort. To the east is Mavis Bank and to the north Tiffindell. Follow the ridge down, bounce through more snow and another checkpoint.
Thankfully ‘R & R’ time as the fourth sticker is handed in. Think I’ll pass on that stew, although it looks and smells good. Need to get off this mountain and head for home.
Only 15km to go and this downhill is reminding me that knees need cartilage. This is steep. A massive waterfall along the side of the mountain, much bigger than the one frozen over in the Kloppershoek, is totally frozen. The Carlileshoek cement section has me grimacing as I jolt down until at last another feeding station and the river. The last 10km are bumpy, very bumpy. I pass a sign “Go Greg luv Megs” almost Tour de France, and another sign “Welcome to the Rhodes Trail Run Feeding Station”. At least at this one the Pepsi is not frozen.
The finish is where we started, a lifetime ago. Flags line the road, I hear my name on the PA system as I cross under the finish banner and receive another goodie bag. A bottle of OBs, different, and most welcome. A bottle of Energade, a fancy First Ascent shirt with Rhodes Run embroidered and a medal. I’ve done it. My life is complete.
This day was different, breathtakingly different.
Prize giving was under the Start/Finish banner. A special award was made to Reinhard le Roux, who founded the race 20 years ago, thanking him for ‘creating this legacy’. Special awards were also presented to those three runners who have run all of the first 20 Rhodes Runs. Very attractive presentations made by Evie to Sham Singh, Danny Holton and Grobbie Grobler. Those are hard men of the ‘old school’.
Of the 316 starters, 285 finished before the 9 hour cut-off. You guessed it, another blast from a safety whistle. Bernadette Henning, running her first Rhodes was the last official finisher in 8:59:25, although others cross under the finish banner during prize giving to the applause of everyone. It’s been a long cold day for them.
A nice touch is the three pioneers who each ran their 20th Rhodes presented the medals and trophies. No prize money. Nicely different, pure running. The trophy to the best feeding station, that went to the saviours at the top of Mavis Bank.
Light was fading and the temperature was falling fast as prize giving came to its conclusion after presentation of permanent numbers and then the pubs started filling up.
A different race, a different day. I can see why I’ll want to come back.
