How the Journey Began: My mini obsession with the
island of La Palma started in the year 2000 after I'd watched an edition of the
BBC programme Horizon. It suggested that the largest volcano on the island
would at some stage fall into the sea and cause a mega tsunami. The footage featured
in the programme depicted an incredible landscape; I had to see it for myself.
Fast forward fifteen years and at last I was about to set foot on this tiny
speck of land that rises 2,426 metres from the sea. The catalyst for going? An
ultra marathon called Transvulcania which provided the perfect way to view the
entire breath of the island's volcanic nature. Getting to the island and to the
start line of the race was an ultra marathon in itself.
- Dublin to Lanzarote,
depart 6:10, arrive 11:10
- Lanzarote to Tenerife
depart 15:10 arrive 15:50
- Tenerife to La Palma
depart 17: 10 arrive 17:40
- Arrive at accommodation
at 19:30
The Race: Transvulcania is
a long distance race, considered the hardest mountain-ultramarathon in the
Canary Islands and one of the most important in Spain. The total route has a
length of 73.3 km (45.5 mi) with a cumulative elevation gain of 4,415 meters,
and elevation loss of 4,110 metres. It was first held in 2009 and has grown in
reputation consistently attracting the participation of many international
runners. In 2015 1,800 competitors took part. By race end only 1,090 would
complete the distance within the 17 hours cut off, 400 would be DNFs.
Getting to the Start Line: Proceedings were
set to get underway at 6.a.m starting from the southern most point of the
island. Buses brought runners to the start line leaving from various points on
the island at 3.a.m. With almost no sleep behind me I was up at 2.a.m., applied
suntan lotion, ate a small breakfast, grabbed my stuff and headed to the bus
pick up point. An hour spent driving through the dark sitting amongst 80
gnarly, scrawny buff bedecked athletes and we arrived at Fuencaliente
lighthouse. I picked a spot not too far from the front, hunkered down out
of the cool sea breeze and waited. As the time wound down to 6 o' clock the
tension and excitement built, then with a minute to go AC/DC's Thunderstruck
came booming across the speakers, then a ten second countdown and we were off!
And So Begins a Very Long Day: A quick loop around the
lighthouse and then immediately the path narrowed to three persons wide causing
a bottleneck, chaos and a walking pace for the next kilometre or so. The ground
underfoot was black sand which made the going tough. The head torches worn by
the runners provided an incredible spectacle sweeping up into the mountains and
back down behind me to the start. On the initial charge up the first hill I
stumbled and fell making contact with the sharp rocks as I hit the ground. The
running group was very compact at this point so I had to pick myself up quickly
before getting trod on or speared by the flying trail poles. The climb was
steady and as we progressed the field stretched out and it was easier to run.
Early on we passed through forest sections which were magical as the sun rose
and shone through the trees. At kilometre 7 we passed through the village of
Los Canarias and it seemed that every inhabitant was out to cheer us on; it was
incredible.
The First Water Station: Los Deseadas, was reached at kilometre 18. I had with me a GoPro camera on a chest
mount; it was the first time using it thus I was only learning it’s
abilities. A quick check of the battery and I was dismayed to see that it was
very low; keeping it in standby rather than turning it off eats the power.
Fortunately I had planned for this and had with me a portable charger to keep my Garmin alive
for the full duration of the race. There was easily enough charge in it to
fully restore the GoPro’s battery in just one hour. The views at this point were really beginnin to open up; Mount Tiede on Tenerife could be seen as could the other
Canary islands, La Gomera, El Hierro, Gran Canaria and Lanzarote. The ground
around us was black pumice (the volcano we were on having erupted as recently
as 1971) and orange rock interspersed with the acid green Canarian Pines. The
course continued on an uphill trajectory over more black sand from which dust would rise
giving the appearance of the ground smouldering as if the volcano beneath was still venting. The
sun was now up and with it came the heat. Another forest and on a downhill section I fell
on what was a very straight forward trail. I hit the ground at good speed and
the natural reaction to immediately get up proved that there were no race
terminating injuries.
Bloody Hell: Pressing on without spending too much time looking at
the damage, it was only when I got to the second aid station that I had a look.
Running shorts were stiff with dried blood from my thigh, one of my elbows and both
knees were bloodied. They weren’t obviously painful so I didn’t regard them as
a major issue. Having read previous year race reports I knew that the
organisers would insist on taking me to the first aid tent if they caught sight
of blood so I kept out of their line of sight. It had taken me 3 and a half
hours to make this aid station; slow going.
· Melon
· Orange segments
· Bananas
· Nuts and dried fruit
· White bread rolls with ham and cheese
· Energy bars
· Gels
· Water, coca cola, electrolyte drink
In addition to the above there were organisers standing by with jugs of water
ready to pour over your head should you want. Later in the race this was a
great source of relief and one that I didn’t utilise enough. The next few
kilometres were relatively flat and provided a chance to draw breath.I pressed on and
at the 32 kilometre mark I hit the next aid station. I didn’t feel hungry at
this stage so didn’t eat anything however I did drink some coca cola and water.
A critical mistake made here was to forget to refill my water bladder.
The Never-ending Climb to Roque de las Muchachos: What followed was
easily the most difficult part of the course. 16 kilometres to get from 1,500m
to 2,426m (the highest point in the race, Roque de Las Muchachos) doesn’t
sound that bad however that is not how it panned out. There is much, much more
than 1,000m of climb over this section. The course takes runners up and then
back down, up then back down, again and again and again. As this slog ensued
and then continued for much longer than I thought it would Roque de Las
Muchachos took on a mythical status as I started to have serious doubts it
existed. Added to the mix was nausea that hit me shortly after leaving the 32
kilometre aid station. As I climbed I found that I HAD TO stop every so often
and spend a few seconds to recover. This is not something I am used to doing.
When I drank or ate, cramps would ensue. It’s not easy to be robbed of the
ability to keep going and having to stop, to feel lifeless. This is when the mental battle started…a battle that didn’t end until I crossed the finish
line.
Casualties of the Heat: The temperature was at
it greatest in these hours (30°C) and due to an error made by the race organisers
there was a 15km section on this part of the course with no water station. Many
runners suffered badly as a result and the sights I witnessed I started to
doubt had really happened in the weeks after the race. They were however
confirmed in other race reports I have read and from the video footage I recorded.
I saw racers lying prone on the ground utterly spent. First aiders had them
wrapped in emergency blankets although there was no way they could have been
cold! I saw a helicopter evacuating collapsed runners off the peak. In other
cases I saw runners throwing up having drunk water too quickly after a
prolonged period of not drinking. Some locals had become aware of the situation
and of their own volition drove to the top of the volcano with water and were
rationing it out to runners as they past. I had to rely on the generosity of a
German tourist who very kindly gave me some of his water. It is reckoned some
200 runners dropped out over this portion of the race.
Racing to Make the Cut-off: As far as I knew
the cut-off for reaching the high point of Roque de Las Muchachos was 5 p.m. I
had never entertained the possibility that I might come close to missing this
time but as I battled illness, 30 degree heat and exhaustion it was becoming evermore likely. On many occasions I rounded another bend hoping to see the
final uphill only to see the course descend for a time before climbing again.
After almost eleven hours the Roque de Las Muchachos aid station was finally
just one climb away but there remained just ten minutes to the cut-off. There
was no way I was going to make it; I pressed on hoping against hope that the
cut-off was 6 and not 5. The heat continued to be horrendous. As I entered the
aid station I asked the organisers whether I was on time. I was!! I suspect
they had extended the cut-off due to the extreme conditions and the 15k unaided
section.
The Big Descent: In addition to
the food offered in earlier aid stations there was pasta on offer here. However I
couldn’t stomach anything so instead drank lots of coca cola which didn’t seem
to have much effect. I sat for a good fifteen minutes in the hope I would start
to feel better. I knew the symptoms of heat stroke and it wasn’t that I was
suffering from, nor was it extreme dehydration. As I sat there I was aware of
runners submitting their timing chips and quitting the race. There was NO WAY I
was going to do that, not after eleven hours of torture. I was going to finish! A few jugs of cold water over the head and a couple of painkillers and I set
off on the 18km descent. The tablets worked leaving me wondering why I hadn’t
taken them sooner. There was a good bit of the downhill that was runable and
the heat was dropping off so it made for better conditions. A large portion of
the downhill though was very technical and having fallen twice already I was
afraid to push it too far. I passed a good number of runners on this section
but with 4km of downhill still to go the exhaustion and nauseousness started to
kick in again. I finally made it back down to sea level but the big welcome had
thinned out considerably as it was now 9pm. The winner had passed this point at
just after midday!!!
The Final Test: There followed a
section through a dry river bed and then the final uphill of 350m which was a
real sting in the tail. My legs and body were not interested in going uphill
anymore and I had to stop multiple times to rest on my trail poles. I was
almost to the point of staggering. Once into the streets of the town the course
levelled out and I was able to run again! I passed all of the runners that had
passed me on the uphill over the final 2km. The magical finishing straight didn’t
end as I’d imagined it (little in life does - no bitterness felt :-)). A medal
was hung around my neck by a pretty girl who told me I was a winner. I didn’t
feel much like a winner and looked even less so; covered in dust and dirt, blood
on both knees, elbow and thigh and a gaunt look that alarms me now looking back
at the finish line photo.
Banged Up Abroad: I was led away to
the medical tent (I forgot to return my timing chip and collect my finishers’
shirt) where I was cleaned up, disinfected, bandaged and released back into the
wild. It was only now that I started to feel pain. As I made my way to my car I noticed that the locals look upon the
ultra runners with a sort of reverence and awe. This became particularly apparent when I found a fast food caravan near to my
car and decided to buy something. The procedure was to take a number and wait in line however when they saw that I had just finished the ultramarathon I was
immediately boosted to first in the queue and served right away!
Once back in my
apartment I was unable to sleep for a long time and my appetite had
still not returned despite having consumed relatively few calories over the
previous 20+ hours. At midday the next day I started the long journey home. Would I do it again? In the final hours of my race I swore to myself I'd never come near this island again; now that the pain has subsided I'm thinking...maybe. :-)
Mistakes Made and Lesson Learnt: I didn't hydrate enough. I underestimated the fuelling requirement and this was exacerbated by nausea which dampened my inclination to eat. I shouldn't have worn a singlet, my hydration pack rubbed the sun protection off resulting in sunburn. I should have had more water poured over my head and gotten my hat soaked. Some training in very hot weather would have helped.
Best Bits of Kit: Gaiters: given the surface encountered, gaiters were a necessity, I saw those not wearing them having to empty their runners of sand and volcanic pumice. Trail Poles: when the legs are fecked the arms can lend a hand using poles, even the winner used them. Charger: this kept my Garmin going throughout the whole race, it would usually die after eight hours.
Advice: There's no need for a heavy duty head torch, you only use it for one hour at the start, and if you have a bad day maybe forty-five minutes at the end. Try and get near to the front at the start line, this way you will hopefully avoid the worst of the bottleneck when the trail narrows. Drink from early on and refill at every opportunity. Fuelling, if gels are your thing and you can stomach the brand provided during the race then there is no need to carry your own. I would strongly recommend the use of trail poles, practice using them on training runs. Carry salt tablets.
Why We do These Things: If it is so hard and painful why do we do these things? That's a perfectly good question...usually asked by a non-runner. Looking back on my experience I will never forget and never regret doing it. The memories, thought processes and feelings of positive self belief I have taken from it will live with me to the end. It is a life experience not many have the privilege of enjoying.
The Organisers and People of La Palma: deserve the last word. The organisers were superlative and could not do enough for you. The post race fall out regarding the dropped water station was dealt with in a very transparent way. The support given by the locals was nothing short of amazing, I crossed the finish line at 10 p.m. and was made feel as if I'd won. Thank you. Would I recommend this race? Hell yeah, you'll love it (in a pain ridden sort of way).
The 2015 official race video
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KGASCsqH_qs
Timelapse film shot on the island of La Palma created by Christoph Malin.
https://vimeo.com/53845425
Contact me at: david.caulfield2@mac.com
