From Andrew Merrick…

The TDS or, to give it its full name, the Traces des Ducs de Savoie is one of the early, albeit slightly less prestigious races of the UTMB week.  Like the CCC, it starts from Courmayeur although takes a rather different route to most of the other runs. It does have the advantage of not requiring any qualifying “stones” (gathered by completing other UTMB races) to enter so it is relatively easy to get into with just a UTMB Index.  In fact entries were still open about a month before the race.

 

Having no stones but a plan to be in Chamonix for the week, I had decided that it was a good adventure for me – 90 miles and 9000m of climb and billed as more technical than UTMB.

 

Our start time was due to be 23:50 on the Monday evening (UTMB and CCC both start on the Friday of the same week); I had concluded this slightly odd timing was so that there was no doubt which midnight we were leaving at… The closure of the Frejus tunnel a couple of days earlier had caused a very large queue for the Mont Blanc  tunnel to Courmayeur, and despite our fleet of coaches from Chamonix getting priority, we started off about 50 mins late in the Italian drizzle.  Fortunately the route from here, which is, in direction, the reverse of the UTMB for the first 20km or so, uses wider paths than UTMB since, as it was, there were significant elements of queuing.  In fact, even after a couple more check points, there were stationary queuing moments on some of the climbs, not something I have experienced as much before.   

 

The weather forecast wasn’t great for the race, prompting the organisers to require us to take the compulsory cold weather gear, essentially a pair of clear glasses, and a fourth warm layer (either fleece or down jacket).  Unsurprisingly there weren’t many of us who lined up at the start line in shorts, most of whom where Brits, including Richard who I had met on the bus but then parted company from at the scrum which was the first Check Point.  I had started with two long sleeved tops but it didn’t take long for me to add my waterproof jacket.

 

The forecast also resulted in a slight route change after Bourg Saint Maurice – longer but slightly less ascent – to avoid (apparently) the most technical section, where sadly a participant had fallen to his death a couple of years ago. This section aside, which I hadn’t reccied, I wouldn’t say the rest of the route was particularly more technical than other alpine races, with their usual mixture of steepish ascents at times, and rooty forest descents.

 

We were greeted with fresh snow on the ground on the (ca. 2600m) high point of the race by which time the hat, gloves and waterproof gloves had also been deployed although the continued slow queuing ascents made keeping warm challenging, and we had the joys of horizontal snow as we approached CP3 at Col du Petit Saint-Bernard.  Even in the marquee here, it was too cold to hang around, so I headed off towards the warmth of Bourg Saint Maurice and my support crew, after gulping down some warming soup.

 

My spirits were buoyed here, through the many shouts of encouragement, the relative warmth of the valley, as well as seeing Em here (one of a small number of spots where support crew were allowed), and the fact that we were one night down.  So after a slightly longer more pleasant refuelling stop I set off back up the hill and the long (lengthened by the detour) section up to the Cormet de Roselend, knowing that I would then be only two CPs away from my drop bag.  There was a reasonable amount of road on this section interspersed with some climbs, I found that I was making more progress on the latter relative to others. Finally time for some more warming soup, before leaving this CP with a Scottish guy for a decent climb up followed by a long descent down to La Gittaz.  The recent snow plus traffic had resulted in the trail here (particularly the downward element) being a couple of inches deep in thick mud, as well as being narrow.  Descending was therefore really challenging the ideal approach being to try to use the edge of the trail where there was at least some grip and less mud, but it was a question of time before most of us adopting this approach slipped and sprawled into the waiting mud… 

Eventually we escaped from the mudfest and descended the side of quite a deep gorge to the next CP leaving only one more stage to Beaufort and our drop bags.  Our British gang had swelled to four on the ascent out of La Gittaz and we gradually collected some others on the uphill part of the next 20km stretch. A larger gang was certainly helpful in the gloomy low cloud as we approached the top of the next hill – we needed a few pairs of eyes to spot the direction of the next route marking flag here. Finally we found our way down into the trees (with two more muddy falls) for the rooty descent to Beaufort which I had visited the previous week. 

 

I had planned to take a 20 min sleep here, and spent in total just over an hour in Beaufort cleaning myself up a bit, and refuelling with pasta, coke and coffee before setting my alarm for 20 mins ahead.  It did mean that I had lost the other Brits here and my spirits were slightly dampened as I set out in the dark on the pleasantly short 4 mile climb to Hauteluce.

I wasted no time in heading back out (hoping to catch up the gang), feeling slightly happier that I was heading towards a col (de very) which I knew (an area just above Megeve), although also knowing that it was a proper climb up.   I found the flatter featureless tracky parts of this section the least enjoyable – the steeper bits although more challenging were more fun…. although we were rewarded at one point with a full moonlit view of the mountains with their fresh snow covering.  I stayed close to a small group as we finally neared the CP as my headtorch battery was about to go.  Fortunately I made it to the CP with the battery still functioning, and was able to change the battery there whilst also grabbing some more soup.  It was cold enough here to deploy the down jacket, leaving the check point with hat, gloves (x2), two long sleeved tops, down jacket, waterproof jacket and numb fingers… obviously I stuck with the shorts plan…..

 

I thought the next leg would be relatively straightforward down to Les Contamines, where I was to see Em again… unfortunately the next section of trail was part mud, part stream, part small bridges over streams, which was difficult to move quickly on, and I managed to slip over once again, even getting mud on my head torch.  I was getting slightly grumpy with  the world at this point, but finally we emerged after a sneaky climb onto a more runnable section, before heading down into the Les Contamines ski area.  From here, there was another long tree rooty descent down to the church (Notre Dame) in the valley (at least I was warm again by then) from where a couple of road miles took us to the Les Contamines CP. Em was waiting here with a smile, potatoes and some smoothie; she and I had walked up the next hill a week or so earlier so I knew what to expect next and, although tired, I was ready for the final climb.

 

Down to only two layers, and in the best weather we had had, I set off at a steady pace and got to the top of the first part of the climb in about an hour. From here there was a shortish steepish descent before the main part of the climb to the top of the Col de Tricot.   The steeper parts of this climb forms a series of switchbacks, and even some of these were coated in a thick layer of mud, just to add a further challenge.  As I summited the col, my number was scanned by someone whose face I thought I recognised (although I was at the hallucinating stage of the race); I did politely enquire whether it was indeed Mr UTMB himself M. Poletti but I didn’t get a straight answer….

 

From here, a gradual largely runnable descent took us down to a slightly entertaining rope bridge. Even the slight climb back up to the tramway station above Les Houches at Bellevue felt really hard work, but that was definitely the last ascent.  A final largely rooty descent took us down to Les Houches where it was time for a celebratory glass of coke, before the final back road trek to Chamonix.

 

Finishing in Chamonix is a very special experience, even on the route in virtually everyone congratulates you, however slow or fast you are, and once you get into the outskirts of the town the applause, well wishes and cheers accompany you all the way to the finish.  I was ready for a beer in the sunshine where Em, ski friend John and Petra where waiting to cheer me in, when I finally finished some 95 miles, 9,000m and 38 ½ hours later…. An interesting route that would have been nicer without the snow, mud and cold, but certainly (diversion avoided section aside) not as technical as I had been led to believe.

 

PS I was back in Chamonix the following day where I bumped into Mme Poletti; after thanking her for all the two of them had created, I couldn’t resist asking her about her husband’s whereabouts the previous morning….. It was reassuring to find out I wasn’t hallucinating.