Friday 3 March, 10 pm. I'm driving on a winding Ardenne road. Clint and Nelleke went ahead long ago. They knew I can make it on my own. Haven't even switched the GPS on, got it in my head. The seat of the van gives a higher view. I once drove an even bigger one but that was in my previous life. My only moment of hesitation came when Joop the logistics coordinator asked me if I could drive the Ford Transit with dropbags. I immediately said yes however. Fifteen minutes on or so I was feeling in the right place. Over the next days and nights, which will become one blurred streak, me and the Big Bad Boy will become good friends.
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Legends Trail is the one and only unmarked 250-kilometre yomp in the Belgian Ardennes. It has been organised by two local enthusiasts, Stef Schuermans and Tim de Vriendt, since last year. I came to know Stef from climbing in the Balkans and running in Poland, where he spent a few years before returning to his homeland. Last year I was even supposed to run in this carnage, totally against myself. Two months before the start I badly twisted my ankle, as if my body subconsciously chose a minor evil. I came as a volunteer instead. Here is the last year's story.
Now I'm here in the same role. Still not ready to run such a long distance. And don't feel like destroying myself before all the planned starts for this year. Once completed a cold and wet 150 km mudfest which physically drained me for half a year. And this is the same plus an extra hundred.
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Checkpoint Redneck
The infamous Barkley Marathons starts with its founder Gary Cantrell lighting a cigarette. Legends Trail was started at Achouffe at 6 pm with both race directors drinking a glass of local beer. Crossing Maboge by l'Ourthe river I see a few racers and flash my headlights to greet them. The fastest ones will reach Checkpoint 1 at Hotton at 63 km before 3 am. We are supposed to open and prepare it about 11 pm. Before that time there is supposed to be some party going on there.
I thought I knew where to go at Hotton but still take a wrong turn and waste some time. Must be tired from driving 1200 km yesterday. Just like last year, on my way I picked other volunteers Chloe and Neil from Dresden. The checkpoint is the same place as before, outside the town centre in a local football club. Nelleke and Clint are waiting for me and the last guests are leaving the party. It was some country and western kind of thing mixed with the American South symbolism. Confederate flags on the ceiling beams must have been here since last year anyway. For Clint, who's familiar with the American culture, they seem at least weird here. He dubs this place Checkpoint Redneck. Maybe the locals plan a secession from Belgium? You never know in today's world...
We unload the van and take the dropbags upstairs. According to the race rules they should be up to 20 kg per racer but some are much heavier. I take two at a time or even three if one is a backpack. Some weight training would come in handy if I spend the whole weekend behind the wheel anyway. Our Belgian friend Theo becomes the undisputed heavyweight champion. This rather small guy got himself a plastic trunk weighing well above 40 kilos. He would probably fit into it himself. Maybe there is his twin inside and they're gonna swap at each of the four checkpoints?
In the meantime the checkpoint crew arrives together with one of the Legendary Safety Teams (LST). Together we rearrange the tables and chairs, preparing the place to welcome the racers. I manage a half hour kip on the floor while the first five arrives: Teun Geurts-Schoenemakers from the Netherlands with four Belgians – Joris Jacobs, Benny Keuppens, Ivo Steyaert and Dirk van Spitaels. Dirk unfortunately decides to bail out. He fell and tumbled at the river bank, stopping one metre from water and pulling a tendon in his thigh. Then he took a few more falls which only made things worse. In order not to completely destroy himself he takes the only reasonable decision.
I know Dirk from the last year's race when he came third overall. At the wee morning hours we talk for a long time about our plans for this year including one Big Race we are both running. Both of us still can't believe we have qualified for it.
The first night witnesses more DNFs. Some already dropped out on their way to CP1. One of the last arriving is Buzz from the US. He comes already at daylight and goes to sleep over his decision outside. After an hour's nap he calls it quits and resolves to support his wife, who is back to complete last year's unfinished business. Buzz is a great guy who never cares much about our piss-taking that he's gonna be wifed by Sarah.
With Clint and other helpful volunteers we have in the meantime loaded all the dropbags into the van. Time to drive them to CP2, which is this time in the village hall at Oneux at 118 km, instead of last year's Comblain-Fairon. A Croatian girl Karmen goes with me. Her boyfriend Alexandre from France is one of the racers with his lucky bib number of 44. I know them both from Velebit Ultra Trail. As in the mysterious words of the Polish national bard Mickiewicz about some hero whose name will be „forty and four”, I concluded that he may become the hero of Legends Trail.
Krynica-Zdroj, 8-9 September 2017 / UTMB qualifing race / Prize money - 20k Euro
My Goodness, Sy Oneux!
I've already got used to driving the Bad Boy. The only sudden trouble was the beeping sound when I switched the lights on at Hotton. I checked the doors and all and couldn't work out the reason. Visibility is good and in Belgium you can drive with lights off at daytime so I switched them off. On our way we pass villages with the shortest possible names: My and Sy. We reach Oneux without problems. I somehow manage to reverse the van into the yard from the tight street packed with cars. Now I could still take all dropbags in one go. Later on, when the field is stretched, it won't be possible anymore.
The leading four arrives before noon, not long between one another, with the Dutchman in the lead. Another bunch, all Belgian, comes an hour and a half later. The next group including the leading girl, last year's winner Paula Ijzerman from Holland, shows up after another two hours. The Legendary Medical Team (LMT) takes good care of them and especially of their feet. Paula bravely faces the puncture of a large blister on her big toe. – Legends don't cry – I say, taking a photo of the operation. – That's right – she answers, hissing with pain – they can scream and swear but never cry!
The LMT includes Geert Dewit, last year's Legend. Some other finishers also became volunteers now, those I know are Peter Swager and my friend Hans Coolen who will join us tonight. I know him from Zamieć, a Polish winter race. Leopards don't change their spots even if they can't race now...
Taking advantage of the sun peeking through the clouds I go out to meet the racers and take some photos. Our heavyweight dropbag champion Theo Leroy has been slowly but surely pushing on together with his old friend Pascal Poulain, also Belgian. I'm glad to see them both in good spirits. I get an hour's nap on a mattress and then do some dot watching, tryinig to suss out how to transfer the dropbags to CP3.
Luckily I'm not alone with this task and the bags of the fastest four have already gone, probably taken by Clint and Nelleke. There is a separate logistics team this time which makes our whole work a lot more efficient. Last time I worked in one of the LSTs and now I'm a transporter. Maybe that's because previously we the Polish drivers were highly valued by the race directors in wintry conditions. It's always nice to try something new anyway.
The second night's weather forecast is grotty. Late afternoon the racers already leave CP2 in the pouring rain. I set off for my first shuttle still at daytime to manage all the remaining dropbags in two goes. At the same time I want to make sure all the racers get their bags on time. At least there is no more of that pesky beeping when I turned the lights on. – Be careful on those mountain roads in the rain! – I hear Tim before I leave. – Alright, always careful, especially in a car I don't know well...
Over the hills and far away
A steep narrow road leads me down to the river. Then to the right alongside it to Aywaille, where last year we stood by the bridge with Arend and Dieter as one of the LSTs and bought pizza for the knackered racers. From Remouchamps steep up the hill. It is already getting dark and the windscreen wipers can hardly cope with heavy rain. A turn into a small descending road brings me to CP3 which is hidden over the hills and far away in the mountain hut called Ferme de Comptoir at 151 km. Again somehow without anyone's help I manage to park backwards into a narrow space between cars so that I can unload the bags more easily. Have I driven a lorry in my previous life?
I'm cheerfully welcomed by Patrick. Last time he also coordinated CP3 which was then at nearby La Reid. I learn that Ivo, Teun and Benny have already set off. Joris is still catching his forty winks upstairs as the only one of the big four. Another five Belgians and a Dutchman, who all came long after them, are also just about to leave. Last year's second Joris must have decided on a longer rest. We will see if this tactics pays off for him.
I watch the dots again, about 9 pm deciding it is time for the second shuttle to CP2 and back. The rain does not relent, there's a howling wind and hardly above zero degrees. As I drive the mountain roads in the Ardenne night I think of all the poor yompers on the Legends Trail.
The last of them are just leaving Oneux when I arrive. I take all the remaining dropbags to CP3. The safety teams are very busy picking up zombies from the course. Just as last time, the second night is the worst. I'm happy to finally see my friend Hans. And a bit less happy to hear his news – he's just picked the last year's female winner Paula, who succumbed to hypothermia.
Paula is sitting inside wrapped in blankets, coming back to life. Tomorrow, just like Dave, Tang and some more DNFers she will join the volunteers. Legends don't cry, do they?
Alex number forty and four has also had enough. He calls Karmen who is also here at CP3. She gives her phone to Stef who in turn instructs Clint hanging somewhere around in his car to find and bring Alex here. My speech gets confused from tiredness and constant switching between English and Croatian with some lame attempts at Dutch. But I'm far from feeling sleepy, too much is going on.
Some wet and cold racers come, eat and entrust their feet to the medical team. Others walk downstairs having had their power nap and go back out to face the music. I see some of them off and take a few pics. Then come the only two ladies remaining in the game – the American Sarah Johnson and Willemijn Jongens from the Netherlands, together with another Dutchman Tom Endstra. These three have been yomping together from CP2 and will most probably finish the race together as well.
I devour a few servings of rice with veg and chicken and after 4 am start loading the van. Again I groan with effort as I lift the Dead Man's Chest. Its owner is still pretty much alive however. Together with his friend Pascal, he slowly but surely sets off towards CP4...
Krynica-Zdroj, 8-9 September 2017 / UTMB qualifing race / Prize money - 20k Euro
By bread and water
That pesky beeper is on again. Can't drive with the lights off, so I just turn up the radio to the max. A long and steep descent in the forest brings me to Stoumont. Down there I can see three small lights leaving the road. I honk and flash my headlights. Later I will check out they must have been the Belgians Andre, Jurgen and Nico at the places 6-8. My thoughts are with them.
At 5 pm at Grand-Halleux I take a right turn into a steep road for CP4 at Farnières. For our brave racers this is already 202 km. The checkpoint crew helps me with unloading the van. Despite the hustle and bustle I fall asleep like a log on a mattress for an hour and a half. No time for more – time for another shuttle.
Joris has in the meantime easily overtaken all those who left Ferme de Comptoir before him and caught up with the leading three. Now he left the checkpoint 20 minutes after them, just before my arrival. The bloke has got something to prove. Last time he came second, showing great sportsmanship and giving the victory to Michael Frenz. He was much faster but the German veteran did all the nav and without him the young Belgian would not have achieved such an outstanding result.
Friends of the Dutchman Maarten Schön, who DNFed last year, prepared a special „aid station” for him. There is „CP4 for all except Maarten” written on the door. And a chair with a glass of water and biscuit outside, with a little card saying „CP4 for Maarten”.
Hans has also come down to CP4 and asks me like ten times if I can still drive. I answer yes eleven times but gladly agree on his company for the shuttle. At least this chatterbox won't let me drop off behind the wheel.
We are welcomed by a magnificent sunrise on the way up. Maybe the racers can at least catch a few hours of better weather after that grotty night. CP3 is already being closed. Last four racers are just leaving. We grab two enormous rice servings each for breakfast, load the dropbags and drive back to CP4. On our way we stop at a local resort with a cool name of Coo. Hans shows me the famous waterfall and tells some trail running stories about our mutual friends.
We reach CP4 after 9 am. The crew led by Marek and Neil takes care of the racers. I grab a quick tea and a beer and then go to the bedroom upstairs. Time for a longer kip for my own safety. I only take off my shoes and fall asleep for long five hours.
I wake up just before 3 pm and see that someone has tried to reach me from the headquarters. Don't really know if I reflexively turned the sound off before falling asleep or just slept so hard that I didn't hear it. I ring back – they just wanted to make sure if everything's alright. The Big Four's dropbags are already there. So are Teun Geurts-Schoenemakers and Ivo Steyaert, who raced till the end and finished at 44h13 and 44h26 respectively. They beat the last year's winner by unbelievable 13 hours. This means the average speed of 8 km per hour at the last stage when they had already covered two hundred kilometres! Joris Jacobs and Benny Keuppens are pushing on together for the third place and will finish any time now.
Maarten is not allowed to leave by bread and water and receives special tender loving care from the crew. But its Joel the Spaniard who attracts most attention when he sets off into the rain armed with a big umbrella. Anyway, all who leave this place will finally reach the finish line. And I can finally take a shower, get some grub, work out which dropbags to take and drive off to the HQ.
Krynica-Zdroj, 8-9 September 2017 / UTMB qualifing race / Prize money - 20k Euro
Déjà vu
I hit the motorway at Baraque de Fraiture. At about 650 m a.s.l. this is the Legends Trail course highpoint with the tent of CP4.1. We got properly snowed in here last year. Now only rain is lashing against my windscreen. I reach the HQ at Mormont just before the arrival of the fifth racer, Frédérick Hardenne from Belgium. His family awaits him with a huge champagne-like bottle of local beer. Stef and Tim add another La Chouffe fourpack with a souvenir goblet and of course a medal. The Big Four is already fast asleep in beds.
I get my warm food from the HQ chefs in the persons of Ania, Fré, Anissa and Vicky. Just like last year, without the kitchen crew all of us volunteers and racers would just die the miserable hungry death. Those tireless ladies with big help of other volunteers cook day and night and the logistics team drives their products to all checkpoints. With my stomach filled I can set off for my last shuttle.
It has already become dark. At the top of Baraque de Fraiture rain turns into heavy, melting snow. And at CP4 the same last four racers get ready to leave. The Welshman Allan Rumbles whinges about the quality of tea. But he does it with such a style that it brings laughter even to the faces of volunteers who patiently attend to his every need. No wonder that it all earns him the letter G added at the beginning of his last name. Since the very beginning he has been one of the lanternes rouges but still relentlessly pushes on. No further ago than last January he finished the 431 km long Spine Race in northern England. Using his lingo, does he recover while tabbing?
As soon as they leave we close the checkpoint, take the dropbags and all the stuff and go to the HQ in all our cars. With a bit of sadness I hand in the Bad Boy key to Joop. Together with Neil we further volunteer to help the CP4.1 crew. I feel strangely low-seated behind the wheel of my Skodovka. At Baraque de Fraiture we first walk the wrong road aiming at the last year's place. Now the tent is half a kilometre aside, lit up like a Christmas tree. A handful of volunteers is already there with hot soup, tea and coffee.
Just before midnight the first apparition shows up in the constantly falling sleet. The ghost turns out to be Allan who immediately helps himself to coffee and tea and starts to complain about their quality. For a long time he has been hallucinating about his client walking him in the woods and showing places. He was calling the pesky bastard all names. Soon after Allan arrive three flying Dutchmen. First is Rinus, and then Harold and Dennis who close the field. All seem already a bit out of touch with reality. As soon as they set off, already after 1 pm we take down the tent. It turns out to be quite an effort in what has become a proper icy snowfall when our hands are cold and our feet wet. A wee bit of déjà vu from last year.
Nobody is asleep at the HQ, all are watching dots. The racers finish alone or in groups. Both ladies, Sarah and Willemijn, receive the loudest welcome when they arrive together with Tom. Sarah is of course awaited by Buzz who supported her at all checkpoints. Just before them came the indestructible duo of Theo and Pascal, preceded by Ryan Wood, the first British runner to finish the Legends Trail. That's why he gets the warmest welcome from the safety coordinator Stu Westfield. Ryan first entered the dining hall from the opposite side. He was convinced the race should be finished by touching the giant inflatable kabouter or leprechaun, the mascot of La Chouffe brewery. A burst of laughter taught him about his mistake and he obediently walked round the building to find the proper finish gate.
I go to bed after 5 am but wake up less than three hours later. Allan and Rinus have arrived and sit with their feet in buckets of water, eating pizza and sipping their beers. The Welshman entertains the company with his stories of the race. Soon come the last two of 29 finishers – completely knackered Harold and Dennis, who had some navigation troubles at the last section of the course. The second edition of Legends Trail, the legendary Ardenne carnage, is about to close.
The finisher rate was exactly 50 per cent. Much better than last year's 15 of 47. This could be thanks to milder weather conditions, but even more due to significantly better prepared competitors.
Full race results together with the course map can be seen HERE.
And a five-part documentary of Legends Trail 2017 can be watched HERE, thanks to the media crew Astrid Claessen and Joost Mulders.
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The race directors Tim and Stef insist they do not want to exceed the limit of 100 racers. A team of over 80 people was involved in organising the race. It is not an exaggeration to say that the participants, organisers and volunteers make one international family. I have twice had a privillege to be in the middle of the action and watch the racers in their fight, highs and lows, victories and losses, and doing my little best to help them. Will I ever try my luck in this carnage? If I only manage to reach my goals at „shorter” distances – I don't say no.
Kamil Weinberg