My brother-in-law, Guy, invited Meggin and I down to his
place in Mexico City earlier this summer to run a trail race in the mountains
north of the city. After a few
conversations of “Should we go? Maybe
it’s too much with the kids and schedules?
Tickets are a lot of money? Is it a wise decision? Are we going to get kidnapped?" We said, “What the heck, lets GO!"
Fast forward several months, all the training and
preparation completed, we boarded a plane towards Mexico City. It’s always amazing to spend time alone with
Meggin sans kids and always great to see family and experience new things. After a quick flight, we arrived in Mexico
City and spent the next hour or so driving maybe 10 kilometers to Guy and
Natalia’s place. To say the traffic is
bad would be a gross understatement. The
traffic is horrific. The City is a maze
that really doesn’t make sense.
Oftentimes, the way you go someplace is not the same way you come back. Strange.
The next day we headed north to Huasco de Ocampo, a
“magical” town about 130 kilometers from the City in the Mexican state of
Hildago. “Magical” is an official
designation the government imparts on cities that have historical
significance. The drive out of the City
was slow but very interesting. Large
buildings and apartments quickly gave way to small shanty town type
structures. Half-finished but livable
and occupied. The hillsides were flooded
with homes similar to what Tijuana looks like just crossing the border. The town before heading into the mountains
was Pachuca, famous for being the first city to have a professional futball
team in Mexico.
As we headed up the mountain, the elevation didn’t change
much which is unusual for me. Mexico
City is 7,500 feet above sea level. Huasca de Ocampo is similar. After a quick lunch in Omitlan we made it to
Huasca de Ocampo. Magical is a great
term for this quaint cobble stone street town.
Looks more European than Mexican.
Old concrete brick buildings all surrounded the main street and
square. Restaurants and “make-shift”
restaurants lined the streets serving an assortment of Mexican fare. The only mainstream establishment was Santa
Clara Coffee and Ice Cream. Santa Clara
is a famous place in this part of Mexico for its original ice cream and cheese. Anyways, the town was fantastic and full of
excitement. Over 1,000 runners had
signed up for what was quickly becoming Mexico’s premier trail race. The Ultra Trail de Mexico or UTMX offered three
races; 15k fun run, 50k light ultra, and a 100k ultra. Meggin and Oriana (our niece) were running
the 15k, Natalia was running her first ultra, the 50k, and Guy and I were
running the 100k.
After picking up our race bib and swag we headed to our cabana which was just outside the town. The cabana was a 2 room standalone building with a sitting area outside. Nice accommodations and just what we needed. After a restless night of sleep, Guy and I woke up at 4 am and prepared ourselves both mentally and physically for the challenge ahead. I really wasn’t nervous. I had trained well and had the confidence of just finishing a 100 mile race a few months before. I thought, “100k – no problem. Should be doable and way easier than Angeles Crest!” Plus, Guy told me (and the website concurred) the climbing was only 9,000 feet or so. That is nothing for a long trail race. Well, I should’ve been nervous and the climbing – ummm, just a bit beyond the 9,000 feet. Later, my watch showed over 17,000 feet of climbing. Steep, rocky, multiple river crossings, high elevation, exposed sections of heat, and many, many miles of runnable terrain all make UTMX a very challenging course.
Just before 5 am on race morning it felt like a rock
concert at the start line. Pitch black
and ‘80’s rock blaring through the speakers.
Flashes from hundreds of selfies and hugs/high fives everywhere. It was awesome. Guy and I followed suit and then said our
goodbyes (or so I thought). Earlier in
the week, Guy made the mistake of saying he expects a top 10 finish for me (I’m
sure he was slightly joking). Being the
competitive guy I am, I actually believed him.
So, I headed up to the front of the race with the fast people and said a
prayer asking God for mercy J. After a few words of encouragement from the
race director, all of which in Spanish and unknown to me, the race was on. The first ¼ mile or so was on the cobble
stone and very slippery from the downpour earlier in the morning. To my surprise, the front of the pack was
rough. Shoving and pushing and jockeying
for position which I thought funny given the 62 miles we had to travel. It was like an all-out sprint for some
people. I quickly relented and found a
good rhythm away from the front pack.
After a bit on the pavement, we headed up a dirt road and what looked
like the backyards of some of the local residents. Mild climbing at the start then a mild
downhill. I followed a group of 25 or so
and we were doing 7:45/minute miles. Way
too fast to start but again I was thinking top 10. Foolish.
The other thing Guy said was to follow the course markings NOT the
people. He said that is recipe for
disaster. Well, I did the opposite of
that and followed about 25 or so runners to a locked gate about a mile down the
road. Lost in the first 2.5 miles of the
race. The group quickly turned around
and climbed up the hill that we came down.
The getting lost and adding mileage wasn’t the bad part. It was the 150-200 runners that were now in
front of us. We made it to the actual
course via the bobbing head lamps and made our way down the valley. It was slick rock that turned into single
track. The 7:45 minute pace was now
closer to 20:00 minutes. Over the first
river crossing the pace was even slower.
I was in gridlock hell and not moving.
Downed trees and shrubs on the trail caused confusion and the mid to
back of the pack runners were taking their time which was a great idea but one
that I was not in favor of. I tried to
pass people but quickly found out it wasn’t a good idea. I was flanked by a barbed wire fence on one
side and a river and drop off on the other.
It was still pitch black and I just accepted the fact that it was going
to be slow going until I hit a fire road/wider trail. After 45 minutes, the trail opened up and I started
my move. I didn’t stop running for 3-4
miles and passed a lot of runners. I was
feeling good.
The good feeling turned to slight panic when I saw Guy in
front of me. It was about 6.5 miles in
and it was then I realized that I was behind.
Way behind. I didn’t expect to
see Guy until the finish. Don’t get me
wrong, it was great to see him but remember I had “top 10” in my brain. Ahead of Guy was a train of people. I had my work cut out. Guy looked great and was moving well. He was as shocked to see me as I was to
him. We talked for a few seconds and
then I was on my way to try to redeem myself.
Runner after runner.
I kept charging and ran up hills that I generally would power hike
especially in the early stages of a race.
I didn’t care. I wanted to move
up and move up quick. It was 2 hours
into the race and still pitch black. My
headlamp was fading but I was hopeful that dawn was coming.
I quickly went through the first aid station. Told the volunteers my number, in English,
and kept going. I barely stopped long
enough to fill up my handheld with water.
I was on a mission. The
volunteers were amazing all day. As soon
as they realized I didn’t speak nor understand Spanish, they spoke to me in
English. Super helpful and super
kind. All of them.
I kept moving and finally the darkness turned to
light. It was misty out and the trail
was wet but it was warm. Probably high
60’s low 70’s. Great temperature for me. I was at 22 kilometers or so. The trail headed up a steep climb up to the
highest point of the race. I looked at
my watch and it was 9,350 feet. Really
beautiful rock formations and I’m sure the views would’ve been fantastic except
the whole area was covered in clouds. I
kept focused and continued on the journey.
The ridge running lasted a bit until the first descent. Technical single track on loose dirt and
rocks. It was great to let gravity do
its thing for a while. I was feeling
good and still passing people.
The hours seemed like minutes as is the case when running
ultras. I was 4 hours in and remember
really enjoying the surroundings. By
this point, probably 40 kilometers, I was starting to separate from other
runners. The passing was now limited to
one runner every once in a while. I
estimate that I passed 100+ runners after seeing Guy at the 10k mark. It was unfortunate as I knew the pressing was
going to catch up with me at some point.
I was alone for big chunks now and enjoying listening to music. U2, Coldplay, Maroon5, Frank Sinatra, Tommy
Walker, Muse, Hozier, TobyMac. It’s a
weird mix but keeps me focused and relaxed.
The kilometers kept going and before I knew it, the trail opened up.
The mountain section was over and the canyon was
coming. Coming up to the 50 kilometer
aid station, the course veered from single track and lush terrain to dirt road
and pavement. It was a long 5 kilometer
section here but I knew I was almost halfway done. I passed two more runners and was moving well
on the flat terrain. Coming into the 50k
station I spoke with an older gentleman that I met at the bib pick-up the night
before. He was a friend of Guy’s. (As an aside, Guy is a rock star in the
ultra-trail community. Everyone knows
him. From the volunteers to the runners
to the race director, Guy seemed to know them all.) I asked him how many runners have passed
before me and he said about 50 or so.
Shoot! I had passed so many
people and still had so many to go. Bad
news was the field was really thinned out.
Other than a few runners at the aid station, I only saw 1 other guy
ahead of me. I remember thinking that I
was running out of time. The top 10
dream was just that.
The flat of the road gave way to fields of
wildflowers. In fact, the course ran right
on top of them. The narrow track ran
adjacent to a concrete drainage ditch.
It wasn’t clear whether to run in the ditch or the field. As I entered this section from the road, I
tripped right into a cactus. I pulled a
few needles from my knee and kept going.
Earlier in the race I tripped and went shoulder first into the side of
the mountain. No harm done on both falls
thankfully.
From the halfway point to 60 kilometers (and after the
drainage ditch section), the course stayed on a dirt road. Guy kept telling me the canyon section was
the best. I had no clue what he was
talking about. 6 hours into the race and
still no canyon. It just looked like
flat dusty roads ahead. Every 500 feet
or so I kept seeing blue signs on the side of the road. They were in Spanish. Ahead of me I saw a runner veer off the road
just before one of the blue signs. I
decided to follow him and to my amazement, the canyon! I had been running 20-30 feet from a 1,000
foot cliff for 4 miles and had no clue.
Between the road and the canyon were tall shrubs and trees. The canyon was basically the Grand Canyon of
Mexico. It’s absolutely incredible. Finally, I made it to the 60k aid station and
the famous Pena rock. More on this to
come. I hydrated and ate a bit of fruit
and pretzels and was off again on the dirt road. This time, though, the dirt road was short
and the trail led right into the canyon.
The trail was steep and rocky, similar to the Middle Sam
Merrill Trail on the AC100 course. It
was about 12:30 pm and the clouds were gone.
The views of the canyon were stunning.
It was hard to not stop and take it all in. I passed another runner here and then the
trail was mine. I didn’t see another
runner for the next few hours. I finally
made it to the bottom of the canyon only to be directed by an elderly Mexican
lady with a young child sitting on the rocks.
She pointed to the left and I followed.
Not sure who she was or if she was part of the crew but I did what she
said and meandered through the rock bed.
I came across a red ribbon and knew I was on the path or at least the
right area. Not much of a path
here. The flat quickly turned straight
up and I was climbing out of the canyon.
I was on all fours at some points and crawled up and up. By the time I made it to the top, I was descending
again to San Sebastian and kilometer 67.5.
After a small aid station at the 78 kilometer mark, the
trail headed into a beautiful mountainside of more wildflowers and small
homes. I really liked this section. Really stunning views. I passed a cow in the middle of a road that
was tied up but had free reign of the trail.
The cow didn’t seem to mind. He
kept eating the grass and flowers. Right
after the cow, I saw a rancher tilling his field old school. Two horses pulling a metal till and the
rancher behind. He looked bugged that the
race was going by his farm. I kept
going, up and down another section and made it to the 80 kilometer station by 4
pm. The volunteer said the trail ahead
is very steep for 2 kilometers and then goes through a deep river
crossing. He said someone will be there
to help. Well, he was right. The 2 kilometers downhill was cobble stone
with grass in between. Difficult to gain
traction and a bit slippery. After
passing a rugged half built home, the trail turned into very steep single
track. In fact, there was a rope that
you had to use to get down. A short
section then the river crossing. The
river was moving quickly and again you had to use the rope to get across. It wasn’t deep, maybe knee level, and cold
but felt really good. My dry shoes from
20 kilometers ago were now drenched.
The last aid station at 90 kilometers was located in
another quaint town. I was told here that I was in 25th
place. I would learn later that the
information wasn’t correct. It was more
like 35th place. Either way, I
was pleased with how many people I passed from the morning blunder. After another climb from the aid station, I
was close to Las Prismas. I didn’t
really know what this place was until the next day. Las Prismas is a park that is frequented by
thousands of people each year. Las
Prismas or the prisms are rock formations that resemble prisms that appear on
the side of the canyon (ala Devil’s Postpile in Mammoth). They were incredible. I ran close to the side of the canyon only
separated by an old chain link fence.
The trail then ran over a swinging bridge to the other side and up and
out of the park. At the end of the park,
a volunteer was guarding a gate and only allowing runners to exit (this seemed
strange to me at the time but I found out later that the park generally costs
50 pesos ($3) to enter; she was making sure no one gained free entrance). From here we hiked up a side of a hill only
to find out it was a levy holding water from the lake we were about to
circumnavigate. It was 5:45 or so here
and the sun was getting lower in the sky.
It glistened off the lake and made the pain in my legs subside for a
minute. The trail ran through water and
mud and finally to the pavement. Huasca
was just ahead. Finally after 12 ½ hours.
I ran by myself on the pavement with shouts of “animal”
from the cars passing by. I thought they
were calling me an animal (in a good way).
Turns out I was hearing it wrong, of course. The English translation was to remain
courageous and brave. I must have heard
that term 50+ times before the finish.
Just before the town, the course turned again and headed down the road
only to go back up again. Another climb
but at this point I could hear the finish line and the announcer shouting.
After a quick turn, I was back on the cobble stone
streets of Huasca de Ocampo. It was so
great to see Meggin, Natalia, Oriana, Dalva, and Guy’s friends at the
finish. It was quite a journey and one
that lasted 13:32:43. Good for 33rd
place and 11th in my division.
It was not the outcome I wanted but the best I could do. A few hours later, Guy crossed the finish
line beating his previous time at UTMX by 2 hours. Quite an accomplishment. Meggin and Oriana finished the 15k fun run
several hours before and Natalia completed her first ultra. Lots of smiles all around!
The next day, we went back to Pena and Las Prismas. It was neat to see these places in a better
state of mind. At Pena we zip lined
across the canyon and enjoyed a “chilada” while reminiscing about the previous
day. Las Prismas was equally
amazing. We hiked down to the bottom and
enjoyed a local favorite – corn in a cup with mayonnaise and chili spice. So good.
An amazing day and one that I will cherish.
UTMX for me was more than a race. From the hurriedness of Mexico City to the
laziness of Huasca de Ocampo and to everything in between, it was an experience
of a lifetime. I cannot wait for the
next adventure.
Some things I learned in Mexico…
·
Chips and Salsa is not a thing. Salsa yes but
chips no.
·
Margaritas are not the official drink of Mexico. Never saw one.
·
Cheese and potatoes quesadillas and barbacoa
tacos are a breakfast staple.
·
The park by Guy & Natalia’s house is for
lovers only. I’ve never seen so many
public displays of affection ever.
·
Uber is the best.
·
The place is as safe as Los Angeles (ok maybe
not but close). I never felt uneasy or
scared.
·
The people are the warmest and most kind I’ve
met.
·
Family is above all else.
