Hellfire Gozo 55km Ultra Trail Run – Saturday 2 May, 2015

In early May, I realised a running dream at the Hellfire Gozo 55km Ultra Trail. Gozo is a hidden jewel in the Mediterranean, the sister island of Malta. My wife Sonia’s parents migrated to Australia from Gozo in the 1970’s. I’ve always dreamed of visiting the island with our boys Angus and Charlie.

The spectacular scenery and friendly nature of this race hides an unexpected sting in its tail. It has a perfect mixture of terrain that takes you from rolling single track high above the sea to scrambling over rocks at shore level. From coastal single track to steep hills and technical trails, this ultra has it all including 1,400m of elevation gain.

Course map and elevation profile

The Hellfire event organisers are all keen endurance sports enthusiasts. Their aim is to create well organised events that appeal to all levels of participants. Especially for those who want to challenge their inner spirit. Despite the tough reputation of the event, I always felt the organisers held our safety as a top priority. 

The island of Gozo is associated with Ogygia, the island home of the nymph Calypso in Homer's Odyssey. Calypso, possessed of supernatural powers, holds Odysseus captive, until finally releasing him to continue his journey home. Gozo is also rich in historic fortifications built by the
Knights of St John to ward off marauding pirates and the armies of the Ottoman Empire.

Fort Chambray from the coastal trail

We arrived four weeks before the run itself. Seeing the islands rugged topography for the first time from the ferry brought home the reality of how tough this run would be. Course knowledge is invaluable; I could break down the race into familiar landmarks. When I was in the last stages of the race knowing exactly where I was on the island was priceless.

The week before the ultra, I ran in the 40th anniversary of the Gozo Half Marathon.  Running the Half Marathon allowed me to fine tune my clothing for hot weather and practice running hard down hills. It also allowed me to complete a circuit of the island's main villages including Qala our home away from home.

The village of Qala on an early training run

When we first arrived, winter's icy fingers were losing their grip on the island. By the time of the race itself, the temperatures were up into the mid-twenties. After four weeks of preparation and holidaying with the family, I was ready for the challenge that lay ahead of me.

Leg 1: Ghajnsielem - Sannat 

At the race briefing in Ghajnsielem, Nathan Farrugia our inspirational race director advised us to stay hydrated and take on salt at aid stations. Running in hot weather is something I have always avoided for fear of heat exhaustion. Dealing with the heat added another physiological and psychological challenge to the event.

At the start in Ghajnsielem

From the start, I was content to stay at the back of the multinational field of forty-five runners. It was going to be a long hot day. I also knew from the Half Marathon not to blow my quads on opening hill descents, like the one down past Fort Chambray. 

The Knights originally intended the fort be the new capital of Gozo like Valletta, instead of the Cittadella at Rabat. By the time of completion in 1759, the threat from the Ottoman Empire had largely diminished. After WWI, it became a civilian psychiatric hospital. Today it is undergoing a makeover into luxury apartments.

The first nine kilometres were over familiar territory to the Sannat checkpoint. Running through fields of wildflowers on the beguiling single track was sheer pleasure. Lulling the unsuspecting into a false sense of security, before the real fun started in the second half of the race.

Beguiling single track on the way to Sannat

For me, the highlight of this section was the descent down ancient limestone steps cut into the cliff face at the secluded Mgarr iX-Xini Bay. During the days of the Knights of St John, Mgarr Bay served as a small harbour for galleys. Angelina Jolie filmed “By the Sea” with Brad Pitt at Mġarr ix-Xini in 2014.

On my way to the first checkpoint at Sannat, I ran alongside Abhishek Aditya from northern India. He was running to raise money for Nepal, having just started working in Valletta. I admired his gutsy effort at short notice for such a worthy cause.

The Mgarr watchtower with the Te Cenq cliffs in the background

Leg 2: Sannat to Dwejra
 
At the Sannat checkpoint, I filled my second water bottle anticipating increased thirst on the next leg. I ran with Abhishek across the spectacular Ta Cenq cliff tops until we reached the watchtower at Xlendi Bay. From here on in it would all be new territory for me too.

The ascent out of Xlendi marked the first of the big climbs. Although I lost the marked trail a number of times, I knew that if I stuck to the coast I would soon pick it up again. The day was heating up and I chastised myself for not dousing myself in water at the first aid station. Instead, I had to use some of my precious reserve bottle to cool myself down.

Wild spear grass that overhung the trails tempered the exhilaration of running above the cliffs. My socks took on the appearance of porcupines. The barbs from the spear grass would stay embedded in my skin for days after the event.  

It was on this section too that I became increasingly irritated with the extra water bottle digging in to my ribs. Although my running vest had side pockets for this purpose, I hadn’t worked out the system properly on my last long run. Race conditions can throw up all sorts of anomalies, no matter how well you try to prepare for every eventuality. 

Leg 3: Dwejra - Marsalforn 

Having been there a few weeks before with my family, the watchtower at Dwejra was another tick off my mental list of landmarks. At the checkpoint, I doused myself with a full bottle of water upon arrival and departure. The next section along the top of the island would be hot and isolated.

At the Dwejra watchtower

Although there were no big climbs, the landscape was rugged with few familiar landmarks. Along the way, I threw too much water on myself. This meant I had to ration the remaining water all the way to Marsalforn. I hadn’t seen any other runners since leaving Abhishek at the watchtower in Xlendi Bay. I wouldn’t say I was feeling lonely, but I began to feel the isolation of the uninhabited northern coast. 

Right on cue as if by intuition, I received a call from Sonia and Angus. They were following my progress on their map via text messages I was sending from each aid station. Hearing their voices lifted my spirits. When I reached the next familiar landmark at Wied Il-Gharsi, I knew I would soon be at the salt pans and on my way to the next aid station in Marlsaforn.

The run through the scorching salt pans felt like running through a desert landscape. The 350-year-old salt pans, which stretch about 3km along the coast, are part of the centuries-old Gozitan tradition of sea-salt production. I was over halfway, but I knew the toughest section was yet to come.

Leg 4: Marsalforn - Dahlet Qorrot

On my last long run, I’d met a couple from Malta who had run the Gozo ultra in previous years. I asked them where the toughest section of the trail was. Without hesitation, they said "Marsalforn to Ramla Bay." So I was psychologically, if not physically, prepared for what lay ahead of me.

The climb out of Marsalforn was steep even though it appears only as a blip on the elevation profile. The trail led across eroded clay escarpments high above the Mediterranean. I shuddered to think how treacherous it would be in the wet.

I listened to my go to running boost song “On a Good Day” by Above & Beyond. It was one of the few times I used my iPod. The technical and scenic nature of the trail provided more than enough distraction elsewhere.

On the climb out of Marsalforn

At one point, the trail disappeared into a bamboo thicket. A barbed vine lacerated my ear; blood trickled down my cheek. I felt as if I was back in Nam. I turned back as others had before me, in the face of a three metre drop onto rocks below. The event was living up to its Hellfire reputation.

Abandon all hope all ye who enter here

Soon after this onslaught, I felt a stabbing pain in my right heel. A blister hotspot was forming. Knowing I had another 20kms to go, I removed my shoe and applied a dressing. Carrying a first aid kit, although not mandatory, prevented the blister on my right foot from getting any worse.

Down at water level I forged my way across technical rocky coastline. At one stage, I stumbled across a couple from a yacht canoodling in the shallows like Odysseus and Calypso. Oblivious, in their loving ecstasy, to my epic that was unfolding only metres away from them. 

I felt a sense of relief upon reaching Ramla Bay, the sight of Calypso’s cave. Ramla Bay’s wide golden red sand beach makes it one of the most popular beaches on Gozo. I was engaged on my own odyssey too, encountering challenges and the topless sirens of Ramla Bay along the way.

On the climb out of Ramla Bay, I caught up with Hans Lutz from Germany. We exchanged grunts in our native tongues about how tough the last section was. By now, I was becoming concerned about heat exhaustion. This was despite taking on an extra bottle of water at Marsalforn to pour over myself periodically. 

Up until that point, I’d been running in a visor and sunnies. I decided to wear a buff Legionnaire style to protect my scalp and neck. In retrospect, I might have been better off without the buff. I missed the rapid cooling effect of pouring water directly on my head. 

Soon after, I took a wrong turn down toward San Blas Bay. Cursing my stupidity, I turned back and retraced my steps uphill. The kilometre diversion cost me 10-15 minutes in time and sweat. I might have finished one or two places higher. But it could have been worse; I could have blindly gone on and not finished.

Leg 5: Dahlet Qorrot - Ghanjnsielim

At Dahlet Qorrot, I went through my routine of water dousing and filling water bottles as if on autopilot. I made a mental calculation of how long the next leg had taken me in training. Given my current state, I figured I had at least another two hours to cover the final leg. Feeling somewhat chastened, I set off again past boathouses carved out of limestone caves.

The boathouses at Dahlet Qorrot

By now, I’d consumed my second three-hour bottle of Perpetuem. Rather than start on the gels, I decided to have an energy bar. I made a mental note to myself to carry cranberry energy bars in the heat next time. The cashew chocolate bar was little more than a warm sticky goo. 

On my last training run, I’d stuck to the coastline after Dahlet Qorrot. Now, to avoid a limestone quarry, the course veered off up a hill. It was a brutal diversion. Mercifully, cloud cover rolled in and temperatures began to drop. 

On the outskirts of Qala, I caught up with Hans again. There was another steep descent down to the St Anthony’s Battery. The Knights built the battery to guard the channel between Gozo and Comino. A great uncle of Sonia’s had served here during WWII when it was used as an observation post.

At St Anthony's Battery

After leaving the battery my right thigh muscle decided to spasm in cramp. At first, I thought I’d torn a muscle having never experienced a cramp while running. The word "DNF" (Did Not Finish) flashed before my mind’s eye. Those who DNF only know one thing: it is better to finish.

Reduced to a shuffle, the cramp soon cleared up. I still felt comfortable with my hydration and fitness. On a hot day in such rugged terrain, there will always be some risk of cramping late in a race. 

I began to run freely again back on the familiar single track to Mgarr. I finished stronger than I thought I would back at my low point at Hondoq Bay. Before I knew it, I was winding my way through the narrow streets of Ghajnsielem to the finish.

With Angus & Charlie at the finish (Photo: Hellfire Events)

I crossed the line on a high with my sons Angus and Charlie. The ice pack Sonia placed around my neck was like receiving an olive wreath from my own Penelope. Sonia's Uncle Joe and Aunty Tess were also at the finish to provide support for which I was grateful. 

We headed back to our favourite beach at Hondoq Bay to soak my legs in the sea. I credit that last dip in the Mediterranean for the rapid recovery of my legs. By the time we flew out a few days later, my legs were fine.

On our way home to Australia, I bumped into Felicia Wijkander at the Gozo Ferry terminal (you can see a video of her journey here). I recognised Felicia by the red Maltese Cross Buff she wore that we had received as a race memento. I now treasure this buff more than any other race medal.