WILD SAGE ON THE SOLSTICE: REACHING AN AUSPICIOUS 888KM NEAR CHINA’S GREAT WALL
AN ACCOUNT OF THE CHICHENG ULTRA TRAIL, FEATURING LANDSCAPES, MOUNTAINS, AND AN AWARD FOR ENDURANCE
HARRIET GAYWOOD (GUEST AUTHOR @ DIL)
READY… SET… GO!
It’s been raining all morning, a literal damper on the mood, as we walk to the start line of the Yunhai CTT 168k, part of the 2024 Chicheng Ultra Trail. Early afternoon, we set off through the northern Chinese town of Chicheng, 200km north of Beijing, splashing through puddles. After a couple of kilometres, we head up a track, with small neatly planted pine trees on one side, and fruit plants on the other.
SCENERY OF GREENERY
As the sky brightens, the mood lightens, and the beauty of the land takes over. Sitting 1000m above sea level, the greenery has returned with a sense of freshness, after a long and dry winter (when temperatures drops to up to -30C°, and the landscape turns brown).
We continue to climb, and the land turns to heath. Tiny wildflowers and berries grow among the rocks. The damp air is pervaded by the strong scent of wild sage.
By mid-afternoon, the sun has returned. The latitude of Northern China benefits from longer daylight hours than the south of the country, and for me, the extra daylight is welcome — I know I will have around eight hours of running in darkness.
THE CHECKPOINTS EN-ROUTE
Most checkpoints are set up in small countryside villages, consisting of one-storey, honey-coloured brick houses, with yards and small vegetable gardens. All houses face south, benefiting from the sun.
Elderly villagers sit outdoors, chatting in groups, and calling out cheers as we run through.
The terrain connecting the villages ranges from disused, overgrown tracks, with hard, uneven, and cracked ruts earth dried in the strong sunshine, to soft, steep, crumbly earth through woods and rocky riverbed-like areas, where water finds its way down a valley in no fixed way (sometimes in flash floods).
MOTIVATED BY THE MOON
Night falls, and the most incredible full moon rises — it’s the mid-summer solstice. Thunder rumbles in the distance, and light drops of rain start to fall. It’s refreshing after the afternoon’s 30+C° temperature. Lightning flashes dart around the silhouettes of the hills in the moonlight. It’s magical, and I continue running during the night, energised by the moon.
A TACTICAL 10-MINUTE NAP
Just before dawn, I arrive at a checkpoint. I’m tired, but revive myself with a bowl of watery rice porridge and pickles, plus some coffee. An odd combination? Yes, but, in the moment, it’s both hydrating and warming. I head out of the village, yet, I don’t get far before tiredness hits. It’s 5 am, and I’ve been going for 16 hours. I feel cold, and so, I wrap an emergency blanket around myself, lie down at the edge of a maize field, and set my alarm for ten minutes.
I awake to the sound of my alarm. I feel groggy, but start to move again. The sun is white, concealed behind a layer of mist. By 7 am, it’s risen fully, and strong.
Cows graze over wide meadows; these animals are incredibly agile, climbing up steep slopes, eating small trees, and sitting at the top of hills. The route continues down, past banks of short flowering bushes, to wider pastures.
I hear cries of shepherds gathering their goats and sheep together. Beautiful dark horses, with their coats glistening in the sun, canter around, excited by the strong wind blowing across the lower grasslands.
AN UPHILL BATTLE WENT DOWN
I leave a checkpoint, and head directly up a hill to reach 1700m. Routes in China are always direct, and go directly uphill; there’s no zigzagging whatsoever. The strong wind on one side of the mountain makes it feel cold, but woodland areas break the wind.
As I continue to climb, I become aware of large moss-covered stones, in a line all the way up the hillside, on my left. The piles of stones then become a neatly built wall in some sections.
The line of wall stays with me. Then, huge mounds of stones appear. I’m focused on climbing in the bright sun and strong wind, to reach the top of the mountain, but remain curious about the stones. They form a section of the Great Wall of China, with former lookout towers called Dushikou. Built between the mountains and the grasslands around 1500AD, Dushikiou was the site of countless battles. The wall looks different from the main Great Wall, because it was built as a single wall, contrasting the much better-known dual-wall structure. The vastness of these areas makes it hard to have a sense of distance. Reaching 7m in parts, the drop-off at one side of the wall is dramatic, and sweeps down a hillside.
Finally, I reach the summit, and my descent begins. I return to the grasslands. At early afternoon, I reach the second checkpoint for changing supplies. I have another ten-minute nap, this time in a room with mats. A couple of other runners do the same.
A COUPLE OF CONVERSATIONS
I set off again. The afternoon sun feels strong and bright. I’m moving slowly in the sunshine. I don’t see any other runners on the route.
After a while, I hear a voice behind me. Literally meaning ‘add oil’, a young 100k runner runs past, and with a inspiring smile, says “come on little big sister” (an affectionate reference to both my height and age). She reflects the tone of everybody in this race — always encouraging and enthusiastic.
I watch as she disappears up the hill, with incredible grace and ease. I try to mimic her style, but I’m simply much slower!
I float past some more checkpoints and darkness starts to fall again. One of the sections between two villages is paved with white concrete. Although it’s flat, I find it hard to run on this surface, but I’ve just two checkpoints left before the end of the race, and so, I keep going.
“You must be tired,” an elderly farmer says, sympathetically and genuinely. I look at the fields of vegetables he is tilling, and feel embarrassed, recognising the physicality of his daily work.
IN DEEP AND DISORIENTATED
There’s one 750m hill left to conquer. At the insistence of one of the volunteers, I eat some noodles, head out of the checkpoint, and start climbing. The path becomes vague across moorland, punctuated with short pine trees, holes in the earth where a tree might be planted, and thorn trees.
I see a few lights moving up the hill in the distance. They dart around and keep disappearing. I discover it’s because of dense greenery and a rocky path ahead. Then, I see the arc of lamps hitting the clouds. A luminous tent is like a beacon, lit up on the hillside for rescue services.
By this point we have left the vegetation. The strong wind has returned, and it’s raining lightly. The reflective markers of the course have disappeared and I feel disoriented.
I look out across a sea of clouds. I check my GPS, and follow a route that doesn’t instinctively feel correct, but eventually, I catch a marker dancing in the wind in the beam of my headlamp.
EIGHTH FOR ENDURANCE
I reach the final checkpoint, and with just 6km to go, we are all united by a sense of wanting to finish. We run, climb, and head down the final hill on a road of soft sand.
35 hours, 47 minutes, 168k, and 6950m later, I finish eighth out of the women!
TRANSLATIONS
Yunhai (雲海) — Sea of clouds
