Vall de Boi 62k Race Report

Finally, our summer plans were set to visit Spain and visit my wife’s family, and explore more of the region that we hadn’t seen on previous visits. This trip has been 7 years in the making, as our 2020 trip was (of course) cancelled. But that gave me plenty of time to also be cataloging potential mountain races to try and fold into this overseas adventure!

We were starting our trip in Barcelona, so I reviewed my list for options that were closer to the northeast, and then plan to relax and take it easy the remainder of our trip. I looked at UTMB Andorra, but knew we couldn’t make it in time. Also looked at UTMB Val d’Aran, but it was already sold out by early 2023. So I had to dig deeper into Google and many random Spanish event websites to find some lesser known and a bit harder-to-find races, and I couldn’t have been more thrilled to have found the Garmin Epic Trail Vall de Boi Mountain Festival – just the next valley over from Val D’Aran and one week earlier. Woohoo!

They were putting on a full race and festival weekend based in the town of Barruera, in the far northwest corner of Cataluña. In something like its ninth year (formerly sponsored by Buff), it has become a well known regional mountain race in the Pyrenees. It included 12km, 24km, 42km, and a 62km distances, as well as a cross-country navigating/orienteering race as well (the 6 hour version was the regional championship). 62km sounds great, the setting looks beautiful, and it has +4500m of climbing (pulls out calculator) … 15,000 feet … f**k … signs up.

The training months of April, May and June were kinda lonely — just me and my poles seeking out days of 400 ft/mi runs (up and down combined). But I was determined to be ready for the big climbs that awaited me in Spain. Most of Truckee and North Tahoe was still well covered in snow, and funny how I couldn’t find many takers (thanks, Dan) to join me to go up and down the steepest Peavine routes multiple times. That’s some good fun.

I created a training camp weekend on Mt. Tam over two days in May to simulate the distance and climbing/descending, and repeated similar in Reno in June (thank goodness for that water fountain at the top of Tam! Thanks, Steve Rowbury). Then I started my taper and it wouldn’t be until after I returned from my trip in late July that I could get up and down our local hills.

I lucked out on race weather. The couple weeks before had been quite warm in the Pyrenees, but after a rainy week that ended the day before, race day topped out in the low 70s. In fact, as I reflect on the entire experience from sign-up all the way through the race, it’s hard not to say that 90+% went right for me in many of the areas that I didn’t have much control over – good weather, easy travel, no sickness, no food issues, no injuries, no gear issues. My only minor complaint was that the aid stations didn’t have much to offer, but I expected that going in and carried most of what I needed. Your choice of beverages were water or isotonic water (salt water). So I drink a mix of both and it worked out fine. I did find a stray Coke tho at one spot!

I also felt very fortunate and grateful to connect with a local Spanish coach, Frederic, that spoke English, Catalan, and French as well. I was able to chat with him a few weeks before coming to the race to get a better sense of what to expect, and then he met me at the race as well. He even ran the 24k on Sunday! Thank goodness he spoke Catalan, since the entire pre-race briefing was in Catalan and not Castilian Spanish (which I probably would have understood 30% versus just 2%). Such a good guy, generous with his time, and definitely a highlight of my time at the festival. He actually worked at a summer camp in the Sierras for a couple summers when he was younger, so we talked about our shared desire to do the Seven Peaks route in Desolation. Perhaps our paths will cross again. I hope so.

The Vall de Boi course has three robust climbs, with the first one being the biggest and longest around 7000′ of vert before you finally top out. I did my best not to overexert going up it – a chronic problem of mine early in races – and I think I managed okay, although I may have pushed a bit out of frustration after leaving the second aid station (Irgo) where it took me forever to rip open a packet of tailwind (which I made a complete mess of). But once we were a little ways out of that aid station, the forest started to open up and the views took over. Lush green mountains with rocky tops and deep valleys in between. It was a gorgeous morning and I was feeling so excited to be there.

At the top of one peak (El Corronco) we merged with some of the back-of-the pack 42k runners as we ran along the next ridge and eventually down to the main race aid station at the Boi-Taull ski resort. The combination of having to move past slower runners on rocky ridges meant that I was moving slower than planned and had to exert more energy to pass. But it was amazing terrain, occasionally having to stow my poles so that I could use my hands to climb or use the anchored lines in the rock. Crazy fun ridge lines!

My family and Frederic met me at the ski resort and give me two fresh tailwind flasks, 8 more Spring gels, and a Probar. I snacked a little on chips and fruit, then was on my way again. Splitting off from the 42k race at that point, we dropped down a rocky farm road about 1000′ feet to the bottom of the next climb. This climb was “only” about 4,000′ up when all said and done, but the first 1.8 miles up 2,800′ kinda crushed me. It was a slow, fly-swarming plod through grassy cow and horse pasture following flags with no trail. By the time I reached the next aid station up on the ridge, I was pretty spent. Probably should’ve eaten more at the last aid station, and it was getting a bit warm and humid. Likely wasted far too much energy swatting at flies, but I think I ate a couple along the way so maybe that balances things out?

I hung out at the Tuc de Moro aid station for longer than intended, searching for something to help me along. Had some watermelon, took some candy in my pocket, and drank and extra flask of water. In a brain fog I think I accidentally ask for something in English, and the guy asked me where I was from. When I told him California, he spoke back to me the only English I heard all day “What the hell are you doing here?!?” That stuck with me, in a great way.

By the way, all of these ridge top aid stations are supplied by helicopter drops. Not sure how the volunteers got there but you could reach in and fish for supplies in these big nylon/canvas bags carried up to the top of the mountain by the helicopters. Sure beats the hell out of hauling water to Devil’s Oven by hand.

I was low on energy and wasn’t moving very quickly down the next valley, but man was it gorgeous. A train of guys went by and I just hooked onto the end of them for about 1.5 miles until we reached the next aid station that sat at the bottom of the final climb. Around that point I pulled out a Spring speednut gel with 50mg of caffeine (250 cal) – I needed it, and it did not fail to do its job. And it was a nice change of flavor from the 8 Awesome Sauces I’d consumed already. The stimulants kicked in, and I was off and out of the aid station before the rest of the 6-person train I rode in on. I passed three more people including the lead female before reaching the top of that last climb, which was the most “gradual” of the three, except for the very final 200′ foot climb which felt like scaling that ice wall in Game of Thrones.

But by that point my left knee was not super happy with me (likely from chasing runners half my age at full speed downhill with a silly camera on a stick at Broken Arrow two weeks before), and after about a mile of moving down to the next valley I had to slow down a bit. I’m pretty sure most of those people I passed in the last several miles were now moving more gracefully past me one-by-one on a long, steep downhill drop. I couldn’t get down to the valley floor soon enough, and knew there was an aid station there that left me with about 10 miles to go after that and most of the climbing behind me – I was praying they had Coke.

Yes! I got the last half flask of Coke they had, ate a couple handfuls of chips, filled my flasks and was off. Again, I was out of the aid station well before many others who had passed me. I made decent time down to Taull, the next town in the valley with the final aid station where I met up with my family again … and was pretty much out of gas. I drank half a Coke, and filled one of my flasks with the rest of it. The highlight of the final six miles was going off course in the forest, and being rescued by Oscar from Pamplona who insistent I go ahead of him because I was already ahead of him when he found me – and we ran in the rest of the way and finished together. 11 hours, 47 minutes. About 45-60 minutes slower than expected, but what an experience. I think the terrain was the primarily factor in not being able to move as fast as expected – few trails looked like the ones we know and love here – a lot of grass and rocks and rutted cow paths filled with poop. So damn hard, so incredibly epic!

I loved that no one spoke English. I loved that I found this amazing, regional, very Spanish race. I loved the people. I loved that 95% of that route had likely not seen any type of tool or machinery touch it. And I love that I am lucky enough to be able to have had this experience. So very special. Can’t wait to find my next big mountain adventure. #UNAFRAID