Written by Neil Bryant

This was finally the year I would get to run the Tor des Geants. Previous years had seen life, lotteries and general bad luck not allowing me to race. If I believed in fate, I would think it wasn’t supposed to be and give up. Maybe it was a sign.

But no, I had a place, I was fairly fit and in one piece with just a few weeks to go. Then, almost predictably, I found that I wouldn’t be able to race due to work. I was completely gutted, but tried to be philosophical about it, telling myself that it was only a race, and it would still be there next year.

Then, out of the blue, I get a Facebook message from Alice, who I am fb friends with though never met, asking if I’d like to run the Ultra Trail Atlas Toubkal (UTAT) in the Atlas mountains of Morroco. Of course I would I responded, but why are you asking me? Simply the organiser would like to push the race to the UK as not many Brits have run it. I said I’d have a little think about it. I checked the dates first, then I went to the race site to check out the race details. I really would only do it if the race appealed to me as I didn’t want to be in the position of trying to promote something that I didn’t like myself.

Early on in the race just as the the sun first showed. Thanks to Arino Visuals for the picture.

It was 105km with 6500m of ascent. The average height above sea level would be a fairly lofty 2500m with the highest point, Tizi Tichki at 3550m. I didn’t need to read any more, it looked incredible and really hard, plus the fact that I’d never been to Morocco and really wanted to.

All this helped my disappointment over my TdG DNS fade into the background as I started looking into the race and Morocco.

A few weeks later, and Lou and I were sat in Casablanca airport waiting for our connecting flight to Marrakech. We were very grateful to our escort who met us and took us down the narrow, dark alleys finally ending up at the Riad late at night. We had one night and morning here in the bustling madness of Marrakech before catching the race organised bus to the rather incredible plateau of Oukaïmeden where a small village is situated and is, during the winter, a rather primitive though functional ski resort! We were offered two sleeping options for the four nights we would be here. The first was tented accommodation which was included in the entry fee, or for a little more money you could stay in the CAF (Club Alpin Francais) hut. We decided that the tents would be a better experience so went with that.

Food was also part of the deal too except lunch which was great as this gave the local restaurants some business as we went for our daily tagine.

The first night was below zero and we woke to a crisp frost outside. As the sun crept over the mountains, the temperature quickly rose to around the mid 30’s. So, a 40 odd degree potential change in temperature over the race. This could be challenging to manage. I really suffer in the heat, so secretly had my fingers crossed for some cooler weather.

The next night was not as cold, but the day still heated up. We went on one of the guided walks to look at some rock art that was only discovered recently. This took less than an hour but it was enough for me to burn my head in the baking sun. Perfect for the race next day! I did the rigorous kit check then the usual faffing for the remainder of the day, before getting into my sleeping bag hoping to get some rest before the start at 0600. There were two others in the tent with Lou and I and they were both doing the 105km race making the early morning easier, not having to creep around.

Thanks to Arino Visuals for the picture.

I walked over to the dining tent and was grateful for the heaters within. There was no frost outside and it certainly wasn’t as cold as a couple of day before. I ate what I could before returning back to the tent to put my pack on and then I was ready

I arrived at the start with minutes to go with Timo, my German tent buddy, and Lou. I said goodbye and with a bit of a Euro build up, we were off into the dark of the night. We would only have an hour or so before the sun would rise.

Lou and I had only one pair of poles between us, and we both wanted to use them. Lou started at 0900 the next day which meant I needed to be done within 27hrs. Quite doable, I thought, but not a certainty. It gave me a good target. I really wanted to see her off too.

The first 5km or so were on a wide jeep trail, so there was no need to jostle for position. I started right at the back and slowly begun passing people. My initial thoughts in races these days seems to all be about control. I really don’t want to go off like a rocket and burn out quickly.

Soon we left the flat of the valley floor and began to climb. Up ahead I could see the leaders speeding ahead. The trail was still wide and not too steep so I mostly ran this first climb, though I did force myself to break it up a little by hiking.

As the climb continued around the side of a mountain, I saw the first signs of the orange glow of the sun as it touched the sky. I think it was going to be a hot one. The sky rapidly got brighter and went through a kaleidoscope of reds, oranges and yellows. The light lit up the landscape that surrounded me and it was beautiful.

Thanks to Arino Visuals for the picture.

The trail levelled off and I saw ahead a photographer and Alice. She cheered me on and I turned a sharp right which began the first descent of the day. It was still wide, but it was now a bit steeper and was quite rocky which slowed me as I really didn’t want a twisted ankle this early.

It was a long and twisty trail and the temperature was rising quickly. I basically had on my hot weather kit plus arm warmers and my trusty windproof gilet so it wouldn’t take long to strip down when I felt the need.

Already the field had split up enough to give me plenty of space, with one runner up ahead and I could occasionally hear voices from behind. Still we descended, heading towards the steep valley bottom which was a fertile green, contrasting sharply with the arid mountains above. I soon was entering the outskirts of a village consisting of many ancient looking huts. At the base of a sharp descent a race marker pointed the 105km race to the right and the marathon to the left. I went right and passed through the sleepy village crossed a river and was soon alone on a small narrow trail heading up towards a small col. I was heating up now and would need to stop and sort myself out. After the col, the trail continued around a bowl before another small climb to a col where the sun was really starting to show its true power.

The climb consisted of lots of dry and loose rocks making the footing a little slidy. Once on the Col, I quickly took my racevest off and removed my arm warmers and the gilet. I was soon carefully making my way down the steep drop into the gully ahead.

Here is where the next village was. There were a few more people here watching us with anything from complete indifference, to being totally excited and cheering me on. I weaved my way through the narrow, dirt allys between the buildings, following the small pink dots that had been sprayed on at strategic points along the entire course. Just as I was about to leave the village behind, a man ahead, wearing wellies and waiting at the side of the trail, with much excitement, started cheering me on. Just as I got close to him, he bolted off ahead, shouting as he went. He was going every bit as fast as I was, and was laughing and shouting the whole time.

We were on a sharp downhill now with many switchback turns. Next, lots of children of maybe 8 years of age joined in the mad procession as it crashed downwards. The children were only wearing Croc type sandles yet were still rocketing down. One fell, and I eased off to look back but he just bounced up and was soon ahead of me. This was such fun!

A typical view with a relatively high volume of traffic for the High Atlas. Thanks to Arino Visuals for the picture.

My new friends soon peeled off and stopped. As I passed they cheered me on. I was now following a river at the valley floor. I turned and waved with a big grin on my face. What a fantastic experience! Seconds later, I turned a corner and was instantly alone again hearing just my own body as it struggled for air and my feet hit the trail. My mind drifted back to the race.

The journey this takes you on is magical, as you climb high into the harsh dry dusty mountains, where nothing grows, then drop down into the lush green valley bottoms, with beautifully crisp, clear rivers roaring down them. There had been a heavy rain storm a few days previous so the rivers were especially high at the moment.

After passing through more villages, I soon was on a unpaved road travelling up the side of a valley. I pick up truck passed me struggling on the rough surface. It was loaded with a load of berber men, who watched me with a uninterested look as they passed. Once at the next cp, I stopped and tried not to rush too much. The next cp was quite a distance away, and it was really hot now, and I could feel that my stomach was OK but not brilliant. Here we go again! Hopefully it won’t turn into such a death march like Ronda did! I ate some of the dried fruit and cheese and topped up my bottles, I also drank a lot of water here. I picked up my sticks, and thanked the crew before walking off as I continued to eat the dried fruit in my hands. There was now a descent that took me to a ford across a river and then a sharp climb began up the other side. This was a corker of a climb, and I instantly begun to power march my way up there.

The trail soon became narrower and more fun as the area became more remote. I passed through more incredible villages, which seemed unchanged over the last 2000 years. Everyone I saw I said bonjour to, sometimes getting a response, other times, not. I was tired now and was just plodding a bit, and my stomach was still a concern.

After another huge descent a lung burning climb proceeded and now I was really not to happy with the sun. You would occasionally get some shelter from vegetation down close to the rivers, but other than that there was no escape.

I would occasionally pass someone high on a pass with a beast of burden toiling away against the gradient. We must have looked insane to these people. What was our rush!?

A great shot showing the start contrast between lush green valley floor and dry uplands. Thanks to Arino Visuals for the picture.

After working my way up a beautiful green valley, occasionally crossing a river and passing lots of women cutting grass and carrying huge loads of it back to their village to feed the cattle, I arrived at a desolate cp. I sat for a while to gather some energy before the next climb. I looked around seeing that I was now in a huge very steep bowl at the head of the valley. The cp crew saw I was looking for the path ahead and pointed out the col I’d be heading to. Wow, it was super steep and long looking. A German caught me up and continued past me. I left in my own time but soon caught him. He was stopping frequently to catch his breath, but I tried to continue what pace I had. A mini cp at the top then pointed out the next col which would be on the way up to the highest point of the race. It looked like a huge distance away, with a huge chasm of a valley between. Their was a Dr here who told me off for having a sunburnt head and face. I tried to tell him that it had actually happened the day before the race, but he was still angry. I reapplied suncream anyway, before starting the long descent to the valley below. It was late in the afternoon and I was hoping that I could get to the highest point (3600m) before dark for two reasons. I really wanted to see the view, but on a more practical note, the following descent was a 2000m steep, very technical drop that would obviously be far easier in the light. It could also be pretty cold on the top in the dark, though this worried me least.

The descending was not exactly smooth and flowy as my body and mind were tiring, and my stomach was a little more uncomfortable. I was able to eat, but not as much as I would like. Roll on the cool night!

The sun was behind the towering mountains as I hit the valley floor. I was quite excited about this next mountain as it was the big one that everyone was talking about. The crux. I strode out and marched as hard and fast as I could. Slowly I could pick out people way ahead as I scanned the barren land.

The temperature dropped instantly when the sun disappeared and continued as I gained altitude.

It was pitch black before I reached the col, and I knew I was close as the wind got stronger and stronger. Once on the col, I was told to get into the tent that was being beaten by the cold wind. Once inside I was ordered to put my waterproof jacket and trousers on, as the course now continued up to the right of the col and temperatures would continue to drop. I put my trousers on but asked if I could leave my jacket off, as I already had on my windproof gilet on and was toasty warm. I rushed off as soon as I had finished a bowl of soup, aware that I was cooling down rapidly. The climb to the top was a real grind, and I was really feeling the altitude which slowed me even more, but soon the slope ease and eventually started to go downwards again.

There was another cp just off the top where some local people had a fire going with a tagine cooking away on top. They offered me some, but I knew I couldn’t manage any, which was really annoying as it smelt divine, instead I drank some energy drink. Now for the painful descent!

It was very difficult footing, dusty, slippery and very steep in places and I really suffered down here. I think three or four people passed me, as I was having to keep stopping to sit and let my stomach settle. Then I could see lights far down the valley. This must be the big cp!

 

The torturous descent eased to some good trail along the valley floor, bringing me closer and closer to the lights of the town of Imlil, the major cp.

This section seemed to take forever as I was obviously very keen to arrive and sit down and attempt to eat something warm. The great thing about this section though was that I was beginning to run a little more. My stomach was actually feeling a little better.

The town had paved roads, electricity, cars and gave me lots of hope for the cp. The fluorescent paint abruptly directed me off the road and into a hotel, the location for the cp. It warm and the staff were really nice and positive with me and the other few runners who were there. I ate and drank what I could. They directed me to the back room where other runners were already sleeping. I turned down the offer and rushed off. I think this relatively quick cp took back the places I had lost on the previous descent.

With some hot food in me and the knowledge that daylight was on it’s way, I was certainly feeling a lot better than a few hours previously. I was running all the down and flat now. The end, although not that close was far closer than the start.

After exiting this more built up area, it was back into the dusty scrub and a new climb to get my teeth stuck into. I was still feeling pretty good as I marched up. There was a well spaced out trail of lights trailing behind me now which motivated me to keep the pressure on. Over the top and down a fairly easy descent, before the last rolling and long climb begun. There was one light in particular that seemed to be fairly close behind me and I was certainly not dropping him. I needed to keep the gap.

The final section of the climb up to the final col really ramps up and is very steep. I was pushing on my knees with my hands hard with every step trying to squeeze every last bit of speed that remained.

Once I had gained the col, where two flag poles with Moroccan flags hoisted where waiting for me, I could once again see Oukaïmeden, the finish. It was still dark, and the final descent was the easiest of the entire race. Within ten minutes I crossed the line, exhausted and happily ahead of my pursuer.

I had finished in 14^th place with a time 22:55. I was hoping to duck under 20 hours, so was way off the mark, but considering I’d had a hard time with the heat again, I couldn’t grumble. I had finished and in a decent position and more importantly, I had had an incredible experience travelling through the incredible Atlas mountains and especially seeing the Berber people living their incredibly simple yet tough lives. A truly memorable experience and I certainly want to return to Morocco to explore some more.

After the race, we had one more night in the tents at the ski resort which was nice as I usually have to rush off to get a flight. We then travelled back to Marrakech where we were very fortunate to be staying with Alice Morrison, who lives there and who took us into town. Alice speaks Arabic and is very clued up on local and Muslim life which was fascinating to learn about.

All in all this was a fantastic trip and I would love to return to race again. I would really recommend this to anyone who loves a good, hard ultra in a fantastic region.

One of the reasons I so love running is that it has made me travel a lot more, and this was a trip that made me feel so lucky.

If you want to try this race then just keep an eye on the site at http://www.atlas-trail.com/en/ where applications for next years race will be announced.