Guadarun 2008 Stage 4
Bryan Sharp writes
Day 4 Basse-Terre
A lakeside country park provided our pitch for the evening. Soft turf being a pleasant change from pentrating, coarse sand.
The usual morning routine of wash, breakfast, kit check and race brief was undetraken as if we were heading to another day at the office. If you work in an office at the summit of a 1097m high mountain blanketed in unforgiving jungle and race your colleagues to work and back maybe this is just another day at the office, we don't, today was anything but routine.
To give you an diea of perspective, Snowdon is 1085m and the last time we checked North Wales didn't look like the set from Jurassic Park.
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The course was simple, no navigation required, determination and perseverance were essential and must be carried at all times. Steady off road farm track running greeted us as we headed off, gently climbing for 7km's, it didn't seem too bad, the phrase "Lulled into a false sense of security" quickly came to mind! A muddy, slippery, trail with near vertical climbs became even more treacherous with the addition of vines, creepers, dense foliage and bogey pits. Beautiful to behold but a constant battle to pass it forced the competitors to use everything they had available to them, grasping at vines, scrambling up rocks and digging their hands deep into mud as feet struggled for traction. The walls of rock and mud would pass as quickly as they arrived revealing flat ridges where a glimpse of the countryside below could be snatched between the enveloping cloud.
Temperature wasn't a problem the atmosphere cooling as the altitude increased, the eerie silence was eventually broken by cheers of encouragement from the national park game warden who greeted us at the summit. A quick "Hi" and "Good Bye" was all we could muster as we turned and headed back down the sea of mud, rock and vegetation that we'd just struggled so hard to leave behind.
Technical footwork is a must to pass down this kind of terrain quickly, unfortunately we had spent at least 30 minutes training on similar terrain afetr deciding that there wouldn't be any mud in the Caribbean. The only substitute for technical skills is a complete disregard for personal safety, this was accompanied by a hearty boost of adrenalin which seemed to spur us on and encourage us to take greater risks.
The flattening of the terrain and the sight of familiar streams meant the finish was only a 7km track away, we had come this far and survived, the rest would be easy. The finish was lined with the usual faces complimented by fundraisers from a local charity. Today's race had all been in aid of Handirun, a charity that is currently raising money to provide swimming pool access for disabled children.
The muddied, cut, bruised and dishevelled runners that littered the finish were soon transformed into their oldselves with the aid of a shower, food and the ever attentive medical team. It's ferry time again, one to go!
To be continued
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