Changing perspectives: a recap of Hut 2 Hut

"How did your run go?"

Oooo-kaaaay...

You see, the thing is, this wasn't really a run. In fact, it wasn't a run at all. There was some running, yes, but there's also some running in pole vault. And just like in pole vault, the running was a minor part and incidental to the overall goal of this event.

The event in question being Oscars 100 Hut 2 Hut. I'll just refer to it as H2H from now on.

The background

H2H is the major fundraiser for the Oscars 100 charity. Oscars 100 was founded by Andy Payne and his wife, Michelle Martello-Payne. Andy and Michelle started Oscars 100 when their son Oscar was diagnosed with autism. Wanting to do their part to make sure that kids like Oscar (and his brother Archie, who was also later diagnosed with autism) had the best treatment possible, Oscars 100 was born. This event raises funds for two very worthy organisations: Irabina Autism Services and Mansfield Autism Statewide Service (MASS).

At the pre-race briefing, we heard from Simone Reeves from MASS on the good work they do to help kids with autism and their families. We also learned that, so far, the event had raised around $35,000 for Oscars 100 and its beneficiaries. Funds are raised via a $50 donation as part of your entry fee, as well as any fundraising that individuals or teams undertake. The winner of the 2018 "Archie's Award", for the team that raised the most funds, was the Bendigo Boys - who won the award for the second year in a row, raising $7,700 at the time of writing.

I'd only just made that briefing, despite it starting at 8pm and me arriving at Buller at 4pm. You see, it was then that I realised I'd left my beloved trail running shoes at home! I made a panicked phone call to my wife who, legend that she is, offered to drive up and meet me halfway. So back in the car I got and made it back in time for the briefing. I suppose that's love...

Onto the race. Or, as race director Chris Ord put it at the briefing, the "experience".

The basics

The numbers look hard enough: 100km through the Victorian high country, starting and finishing at Mount Buller, with around 5,500m of vertical ascent/descent. Individuals (assessed and granted entry on application) trying to complete the course in 22 hours or less, or teams of two hoping to finish in anywhere from one to three days.

I was in a team of two with my friend Belle and we were aiming to finish in two days. This required carrying around 6-8kg of mandatory gear (depending on how full your two litre water reservoirs were), including a sleeping bag and sleeping mat. Not your usual running kit.

Mandatory gear (minus the shoes!)

You had to nominate one of two campsites to send a tent to for your overnight stay - 37.5km (Lovicks Hut) or 70km (King Hut). The 16 hour cut-off for King Hut felt achievable (70km, 4,000m vert), so that was the plan until the race organisers strongly recommended (almost demanded) that two-day competitors nominate Lovicks as their campsite. Despite my feeling that they were being overly cautious, we nominated Lovicks, with the understanding that if we came in well under the 9 hour Lovicks cut-off, we could continue on and either get to King or, if not, sleep at one of the checkpoints between Lovicks and King (either in a hut or an emergency tent).

I mean, 9 hours for 37.5km? Pfft - that's 4.5 km/hr. We'll be pushing through Lovicks. We're runners, not bushwalkers.

Summit to river

At 5am on Friday, we took our first steps in anger and straight into the first climb of the day - from the Alpine Village to the summit of Mount Buller (around 200m ascent in 2.5km).

Things didn't get any easier.

You see, this is where you first accuse the course profile of being a lying, cheating bastard. It's a pretty steep descent, yes, so you imagine before the race you'll have to take it easy on your quads so early on in the race. Maybe 7 minutes per km. Over of distance of about 8km, it'll take maybe an hour. Max.

It took us two hours.

We were moving at 4km/hr. Downhill. And we were moving as fast as we felt safe to.

You see, Four Mile Spur, which comprises the majority of the descent, is a horrorshow for anyone who doesn't like technical descents. And Belle and I both fall squarely into this category.

We picked our way slowly through the rocks and vegetation (in the dark), before scrambling over some rocky outcrops in the now dawn light. We later found out a handful of people had done their ankles on this section and withdrawn. More seriously, a man had fallen two meters off the rocky outcrop and landed on his back, tearing what I'm told was a "flap of skin" near his spine. When I found out about this, 4km/h didn't seem so bad anymore.*

The descent bottomed out at the Howqua River and we waded through, the cool water giving temporary respite to our already beaten-up feet.

What goes down...

Once again, we were lulled into a false sense of security with a few kilometres of nice running along the Howqua River. Well, it wasn't really a false sense of security. We knew what was coming - the first big climb of the day. A 5km section up Eight Mile Spur, rising about 850m to Refrigerator Gap.

You know how the brain protects us from traumatic memories by repressing them? Well, I don't know what happened on the climb to Refrigerator Gap, but I have next to no recollection of it except a few photos I took. Belle tells me it was a prick of a climb. I'm inclined to believe her.

Looking back to Mt. Buller (you can see the ski runs) from Eight Mile Spur

I do remember the aid station at Refrigerator Gap, though. Ultra running good guy Oliver Mestdagh was there with his family (and others) and they leant a welcome helping hand getting us ready for the cherry on top of the climb we just undertook: the final 1.5km to The Bluff.

Let's just say no one is breaking the world 1,500m record over this course. It rises a whopping 400m and I remember laughing several times at how steep it got. The hiking poles Belle and I were using became useless in places - you had to throw your sticks up the trail and haul yourself up by your hands.

But when we got to the top... Wow. What a view. We were at about 1,750m altitude, with 360 degree views on a clear and sunny day. Yeah - that climb was worth it.

The final push to the top of The Bluff

At the top of The Bluff 

Taking stock

Once we'd picked our jaws off the ground it was time to assess our progress. We'd travelled about 27km and it had taken us 7 hours. That's less than 4km/hr. It was at this point that I began to realise that the race organisers, who had traversed this course several times, might have known what they were talking about when "strongly recommending" taking the Lovicks Hut option on Day 1.

We had two options. Option 1 was to start pushing hard in the hope of covering the next 11km in less than two hours to give us enough time to get into and out of the Lovicks Hut camp before the 9 hour cut off. And then try desperately to stay in front of the sweep for as long as possible. Which probably wouldn't be far.

Option 2 was to save our legs, walk to Lovicks, camp there and get the job done tomorrow.

We chose option 2. In hindsight, it was a wise decision.

The first steps on the long trek to Lovicks

I had a sliver of doubt a little further down the trail, though, when a volunteer at the Bluff Hut aid station informed us there was only a runnable 5km descent to go before Lovicks. We still had about 50 minutes before cut-off, so that might get us there 20 minutes or so in front and we might have a decision to make.

I needn't have worried, though. That guy was clearly on drugs as we immediately began climbing up a 4WD track and continued climbing for 3.5km. Then, the runnable bit, which only lasted about a kilometre before turning down a churned-up, rocky single track.

We rolled into the Lovicks Hut checkpoint/campsite at around 2:20 pm, 20 minutes after the cut-off. 

It had taken us 9 hours and 20 minutes to complete 37.5km. It goes without saying, that was a first for us.

Camping with no beer

We spent some time eating, drinking and talking to fellow competitors under the verandah at Lovicks Hut. Then, as fate would have it, one of the Lovick clan showed up.

She proceeded to tell the volunteers manning the checkpoint (friendly, generous, salt of the earth style people from 4WD clubs) that we'd have to move. You see, Parks Victoria hadn't notified the Lovicks that we'd be there, and there were 20-odd people and 13 horses on the way and they'd be there in an hour and a half. No access to the Hut and our designated camping area was off limits, too.

This message was delivered in one of the rudest ways possible. I was livid, but the vollies were completely cool. They just got on with sorting a Plan B and we all helped to move everyone's stuff over to another section of the camp site. But no more hut.

I can't emphasise enough how good these volunteers were. They looked after us, cooked us dinner, made us breakfast (having to get up at 4am) and built us a fire. Legends.

The night was cold (the Hut is at about 1400m altitude) and my decision to sacrifice weight for comfort with my sleeping bag didn't pay off. I was freezing. After maybe three hours of broken sleep, someone's alarm went off at 3:30am and that was us - we might as well get ready.

After re-packing our gear, taking down our tent and having breakfast, we were on the road for Day 2.

Summit bagging

The first order of business was a steep 4WD track for 3km before turning left onto the Australian Alps Walking Track. It was still dark and - surprise - the AAWT was a bit rocky, so we were taking it easy.

The skies began to lighten as we approached Mount Magdala and then, just as we crested the summit, WHOA:

Sunrise at Mount Magdala

From Mount Magdala looking back to Mt. Buller and Mt. Stirling

Those photos don't do it justice, of course. And it's not just the difference between seeing it on screen or in person, it was the feeling at the time. A feeling best described as one of tranquillity. There was a light wind, but that was the only sound. And all around us, this beauty.

This section of the course was all about bagging one summit after the other. There are six named peaks on the course profile, but many more unnamed ones. Next up was Big Hill, followed by West Peak and Mount Howitt. Each of these peaks allowed us a glimpse of Mount Buller, still more than 50km away. It seemed a lot further.

View from Mount Howitt

There is a 3km out-and-back diversion to Vallejo Ganter Hut about 50km into the course. This cracking little hut was manned by the Generation Run crew of Bec and Stephen Rosel, and others. Belle is coached by Bec, so we spent a bit of time here catching up and re-fueling before returning to the AAWT and starting a section called the Cross Cut Saw.

The Cross Cut Saw is a rugged trail with a profile that befits the name. We covered several technical descents and climbs and in parts, it was hard to believe we were on course it was so overgrown or rocky. The Cross Cut Saw section culminates with the ascents of Mount Buggery and Mount Speculation.

Cross Cut Saw

Early on, I had seen two peaks close by and wondered if those were the two climbs. Not even close. Trust me, when you get to Mount Buggery, you know about it. And then the big bastard peak behind it just screams "Mount Speculation".

NOT Mt. Buggery and Mt. Speculation 

The REAL Mt. Buggery and Mt. Speculation

You get to the summit of Mount Speculation via some more steep rock scrambling and then, what do you know, another 360 degree view. This one was the best of the day. Mount Buller, now only 40km away, still seemed a mirage in the distance.

Approaching the summit of Mt. Speculation

It's not my childhood, doc, it's Muesli Spur

From Mount Speculation, the course profile suggested a long (12km) downhill to King Hut. First there was the aid station on Speculation Road, hosted by Ali and Jamie Moxham. They were deep in conversation when we arrived, so much so they didn't even notice us for a minute or so, but once they did, we received a royal welcome. Complete with a motorised water mister thing. It was heaven.

The night before, we'd heard about this very tricky downhill section near King Hut called Muesli Spur. We were told we had about 7km of uninspiring 4WD track before we got to that, so we set off, curious to see how bad this descent could be.

It was fucking horrendous.

Belle and I later joked that after experiencing Muesli Spur, I could never walk down the cereal aisle of a supermarket without yelling obscenities and ending up in the foetal position.

I ran out of water just before we hit the worst part, but since we only had around 3km to go, it didn't seem so bad. That was before a 500m section took us 24 minutes to get down. (There are no typos in that last sentence.)

Honestly, I hated it. I was not having fun, I was dehydrated in a warm valley. When we finally got to the end (which admittedly, concludes with some nice, easy downhill running), Belle got a flash of Angry Nick. He doesn't come out often on the trails, but Muesli Spur was enough.

You see - there are SOME parts of the course that aren't inspirational

But soon we were at King Hut and a surprise for Belle, as her mother, step-dad, sister, brother-in-law and niece were there waiting for her. I guzzled some water and Oliver Mestdagh arrived in time for another chat with him. We had 30km to go and both Belle, who had swept the final 30km last year, and Oli agreed that it was relatively 'easy' compared to what we'd been through so far.

A new perception of 'easy'

We were now faced with two back-to-back climbs. A 7km, 670m climb to Craig's Hut, followed immediately by a 4.7km, 300m climb to Mount Stirling. These were 'easy' climbs because they were mostly on 4WD tracks, save for a cracking section of single track half way up the Craig's Hut climb.

We crossed the King River (thigh deep - very refreshing) and started the grind. We were going at our own pace, which meant I was slightly ahead, but stopping every so often to wait for Belle. But Belle never rested, preferring to "grind it out and rest at the top". It was quite a sight to behold - she put it into low gear, steeled her determination and just...  Kept. On. Going. 

We reached the iconic Craig's Hut about 3 hours ahead of the cut-off, so we knew that, barring catastrophe, we'd be bringing it home that evening. We had the push to Stirling, a downhill to Howqua Gap hut and the final climb to Buller to come. It was time to tackle Stirling. 

Craig's Hut

Although the average gradient (300m in 4.7km) doesn't seem too bad, there are quite a few downhill sections on this part, which means parts of the climb would be 20% or more (we were jogging the downhills, which seemed to relieve our quads). But again, Belle never stopped once - she was like The Terminator.  

You actually reach the next checkpoint (Geelong Grammar Hut) before the summit. Belle had made it, but mentioned she felt a bit nauseous. In hindsight, I should have noticed it then, but it wasn't until we'd left the checkpoint that I realised Belle was pale as a sheet of paper. 

We immediately recounted what she'd had to eat that day (we'd been going for 12.5 hours) and it was nowhere near enough. Belle popped a gel, had some water and we rested for a bit. Five minutes later, the colour had returned to her face and from then on we made sure she ate something every 30-40 minutes.

By this stage, we'd crested Stirling and were on our way to Howqua Gap hut. We'd lost some time against the cut-offs (they get progressively harder), but we left the final checkpoint 2:10 ahead of the final cut-off. It was official - we were finishing today.

Approaching the trig point at Mount Stirling's summit

From the Summit of Mount Stirling

On the way to Howqua Gap Hut 

At this stage, we were joined by a friend of mine, Franck. He and his wife Isabelle had come up to Buller unbeknownst to me, to cheer us on a do some running/hiking of their own. It was a huge boost to see Franck and as we started the winding climb up a mountain bike trail towards Buller, Franck trailed us for a few kilometres before heading off to the village. 

These trails leading the the village are really nice and we were hiking them with a good cadence. Then at the top, just before the village, our friend Matt Veenstra was there to greet us and then a whole pack of friends - Andy and Michelle, Chris Ord, Isabelle, and others. It was a huge boost just before the final test. 

Arriving at the back of the Village

(Photo credit: Isabelle Verez)

It ain't over til it's over

At this point, you're so close to the finish line and the village. But instead of making a bee-line for glory, you need to loop down and around the back of the village and then get all the way up to the summit of Buller before re-tracing that 2.5km route you started the whole experience with. 

By this stage, the sun was setting. One last chance for some glorious views. That sunrise from the top of Mount Magdala seemed an age ago, the trials and tribulations since then part of a folklore written by Belle and I.

The last pictures taken from on course - sunset at Mount Buller

Headlamps on, we stated the climb towards Buller. Belle's energy seemed to be flagging, but it was pretty clear her mind was controlling things now. Up the stone steps leading to the top and there it was - the cairn at the summit, a canister perched on top. Inside the canister was a book placed there by the race organisers. You had to tear out the page corresponding to your race number, so you could prove you got there. 

The title of the book was kept a secret, which was about to be revealed. Belle opened the canister, extracted the book and we laughed. The book title? Torment. 

Perfect. 

Writing our own ending

We navigated the steep slope down Buller very slowly, and then just as we were approaching the outskirts of the village, we were again joined by Matt, this time with friend and volunteer-extraordinaire Renee and Australian trail running royalty Kellie Emmerson.  

Earlier, Belle had told me she had never walked over a finish line. Well, she wasn't about to start now. We broke into a run, flanked by our crew, Matt live-streaming to Facebook, talking shit and laughing. 

And then, side-by-side, hand-in-hand, we crossed the line to the applause of the legendary volunteers and spectators who stayed out in the dark and cold to welcome the finishers. 

We'd done it. More than 40 hours since we started. 16.5 hours since we started that morning. Almost 26 hours of total time on course. We embraced, had our pictures taken and tried to let it sink in. 

I found Chris Ord and told him: "Ancient Greek poets didn't write shit this epic." 

Finished

(Photo credit: Isabelle Verez) 

Inside Race HQ. I look absolutely shattered.

(Photo credit: Isabelle Verez)

Reflections 

I'm writing this about a week after finishing H2H. (Judging by the word count, you probably think I've been writing non-stop.) Over the course of the week, my feelings about the experience have changed, in some ways almost 180 degrees. 

We covered 100km in 26 hours. Less than 4km/h. This is not the sort of pace that, as a runner, I'm used to. But since the event, I've come to realise that thinking about average pace in H2H is a category error. H2H isn't a run, isn't a race. Chris was right - it's an experience. You don't measure experiences in kilometres per hour or minutes per kilometre. 

It's an experience that, the more I've reflected on it, the more it's meant to me. Including our race entries and donations from well wishers, Belle and I raised over $1,700 for Oscars 100. That alone is something to be proud of.

But the experience itself was something I find difficult to put into words. It's something I will contemplate and cherish for years to come. I'm so glad that Belle agreed to team up with me - you couldn't ask for a better teammate.

I wish I could experience it for the first time again and again. But maybe, just maybe, I'll settle for experiencing it for a second time. And maybe a third. And, well, you get the drift.

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* I'm told the race organisers are already thinking about how to make this section safer for next year.

Donation link: https://www.mycause.com.au/page/168781/team-c-hits-the-huts