Those who live in Cape Town know about the Hout Bay Trail Challenge but many outside of that city do not. I was one the runners that needed to carefully scour running calendars to find this little ... um ... gem. Forty trail kilometers did not seem too onerous, especially as I was training for the UTMB TDS but the devil is in the details and there it was, in clear view, 2500m of ascent. Yes! That's my run. Plane tickets and accommodation booked I was soon headed to Cape Town for a few days and The Hout Bay Trail Challenge.
Running on Table Mountain in cliched terms is trail running at its best. Underfoot the ground is very hard, mostly rock, always technical and engaging, with effervescently fresh air. Then there are the views and the simple pleasure of escaping city limits to the elevated natural environment. Table Mountain is a tonic.
The Hout Bay Trail Challenge runs around the eponymous village of Hout Bay, a discontiguous suburb of Cape Town. The route is a full circle starting and finishing at the small fishing harbour in the bay yet managing to take in a good 600m climb over the Karbonkelberg, more than 800m of Table Mountain, and finishing with a few hundred meters of climbing up Constantiaberg before dropping back down to the Atlantic Ocean for a 1000 meter beach dash (and a river crossing) to the finish.
We gathered at the harbour for a 7am start with a field of a couple of hundred runners split, if I recall correctly, into 2 groups. Why I was in the A group escaped me? Could I have been that cavalier when filling in an entry from? I like to start near the back and now I was in a small group of front runners with nowhere to hide. And did they sprint when the gun went off! A quick burst across a parking lot saw the leaders dash across the road and scurry up a vertical sandy chute hidden in the thick bushes. This was stuff that only locals could know. I followed slowly being the last runner in group A. The little sandy chute headed to another road that quickly ascended to a boom demarcating the end of vehicular access and the start of the mountain proper. We kept climbing and climbing. Not too steeply, but much longer than expected. Why did the uphill feel so long? From below, the Karbonkelberg had looked quite small and now it was turning into something substantial - a fully grown mountain.
There was no tapering or rest that had preceded my run. This was supposed to be just another training run and it caught me unexpectedly, very early into the 40 kilometers. I was working hard, too hard for my comfort. We got near to the top of karbonkelberg and like all real mountains we spent a while traversing the summit area. There was no immediate downhill relief and when it did arrive it came with some very steep and technical 3 or 4 meter steps that required careful 4 point climbing. The silent vigil of a marshal cautioned runners to slow down and get down safely.
At the start we were almost at sea level. Now a longish downhill section took us straight back to the point of zero elevation and the Sandy Bay sand dunes. I had trustfully followed some local runners and when they got disorientated in the small dunes, well, so did I. Where was the route? I kept moving north, up and down sand hills eventually catching a glimpse of runners working their way back south on a contour path about 100 meters above me. Damn! This was exasperating. To get to the other runners would require some serious bundu bashing and why, in the first instance, was I so low down (so deep, deep, deep, deep undercover in the words of Eddie Murphy)? Trail running is no province for self pity - I had to pretend to act tough.
We ran past Sol Kerzner's estate on the side of Little Lions Head and security personnel had unlocked a gate for runners to get access to a short road that took us to the first checkpoint at about 14km (top of Suikerbossie). 2 hours had been my optimistic estimate, 2h15 my realistic guess. Time lapsed was actually 2h30. So much for 30 years of running experience. The path away from the checkpoint headed straight for a steep rocky corner up to the back table of Table Mountain. This corner had a name which I forgot in a sea of steps. At first, leaving the checkpoint, I had ignored a Go Left sign choosing instead a pathway that headed directly towards the rocky corner looming overhead. Local walkers told me to keep going on my chosen route as it would lead swiftly to the ridge above. But no sooner had I run past these walkers and my single path multiplied into a labyrinth of trails under the conifers. Again, in polite terms I was displeased. I chose a path from the multitude of options and headed resolutely upwards trying to rejoin the main group I had stupidly moved away from earlier.
I trudged up this very steep and rocky ridge, at times using 4 point moves to get over obstacles. Passing a runner lying on the ground, with two medics in attendance, I heard his blood curdling screams as they tried to move him or release cramp. Something wasn't right. But passing the "dead" or injured is always mildly consoling and I focused on what was not wrong with me. I could still move. No cramps. Yet. It wasn't raining, even though the sun wasn't shining. Most importantly I was on the back end of Table Mountain, and I loved this place, remaining in full oblivion of how far it was to reach the reservoirs and get to the other side of the "table" where we would descend to Constantia Neck.
The top of Table Mountain has a unique aura. The immediacy of a million years pulses through you with a deep infra-sound wavelength. It is very special. It also has very long paths such as that from the reservoirs to the top of Nursery Ravine and on to the Rangers Jeep Track. Dammit, this was hard running. Others started to pass me ... I now the corpse.
A quick right turn off the Rangers Track plunged down a very steep and loose trail with horrible poles posing as steps. It was simply too risky for me to be reckless - I couldn't afford any mishaps a few weeks before my UTMB run. We headed to Constantia Neck, a checkpoint and a very popular meeting spot for Cape Town's outdoor lovers. Another 14km done. Another 2h00 optimistically estimated and another 2h30 gone. I was now 5 hours into this 40km event with only about 29km to show. On the plus side, only 11km to go. Maybe I could do it ... faster?
No such luck. Even though I thought I was fairly swift getting up Constantiaberg, my real nemesis after leaving the Neck, was the long descending contour that worked it's way back to Chapman's Peak Drive and the edge of the Atlantic. Many others ran past me and I trundled along. The spectacular vista appeased me. I tried not to care about pace. I needed to be running again within a day or two - an opportune yet dishonest excuse. I was tired.
I had elected not to run with a watch because I did not want time to distract me. And clearly it hadn't. My finish time was 7 hours and a few seconds, I think.
The Hout Bay Trail Challenge is a very good run from every respect. The route is absolutely splendid showing off Cape Town's best. It is spectacular. The terrain is varied and technical at times. It is a hard run - more so than I have encountered on any equivalent distance in SA. But most specially, the people are wonderful, the finish in the yacht club was very convivial (I stayed for about an hour) and you get a free meal from Muriel's Munchies!
Note: All photos obtained from The Hout Bay Trail Challenge Facebook page, website and Google
