Strava link: https://www.strava.com/activities/9868911356
My friend Mark called me out of the blue in February 2023 asking if I had any interest in joining him for a week or so of travel in Scotland sometime in the fall. Exploring the Scottish highlands was one adventure I couldn’t say no to. During the planning, I had to search to see if there were any races that lined up with the timing. I found the Salomon Skyline Scotland series and the Ben Nevis race captured my attention. The event date worked and out of the race options, the Ben Nevis Ultra was the only one to summit Ben Nevis, the highest peak in Scotland (as well as the entire United Kingdom). The 52km race had a cutoff of 12 hours, which seemed manageable for my first international race. I signed up before the race details sank in. Details like the extensive mandatory clothing and equipment list, the 4,000 meters of elevation gain (approximately 13,000′, a substantial amount for a 33 mile course), and the fact that that the course records were close to the 8-hour mark. This was not only a very hilly course, it was a very technical one that featured river crossings, bog mud, steep climbs on uneven surfaces, and over a mile of scrambling across the exposed CMD ridge, the Càrn Mòr Dearg Arête. The few relatively flat stretches were strewn with rocks and puddles, and the descents were often technical and difficult to cover with any momentum.
The route was designed to be challenging in any weather. The weather we got was so bad that the race director switched the route mid-event to send runners reached the lone aid station, at mile 19, back to the start/finish line along a safer, lower elevation trail. Spoiler alert: I made it to mile 19 after the cutoff time and was shuttled back by bus to the race headquarters in Kinlochleven, but not before I successfully summited the UK’s highest mountain. It was a DNF (Did Not Finish) but a full day of fun and challenge in the beautiful Scottish highlands and I’m calling that a success.
One of my Michigan runner friends, Kara, signed up for the race too, so we traveled to Scotland together to do the race before I met up with Mark and she split off to travel with some of her other friends for the remainder of our Scotland trips. Kara and I arrived in Kinlochleven on Saturday evening before the Sunday race. Packet pickup was 5-8pm just a short walk from the Tigh Na Cheo guest house we were staying at.
We checked out the vendor tents at the race expo and I bought some nutrition. Kara bought a larger Salomon vest to hold all the clothing layers and equipment we were (understandably) required to carry. They did check out race kits at the start line in the morning to ensure we had the appropriate waterproof gear, layers, lights, emergency bag, hydration and nutrition. I ran with the Osprey bag I was using as my carry-on, which was probably too big but it worked just fine. We got our race bibs and SPOT Trackers and grabbed some additional food from the grocery store. Then we carb-loaded at the Highland Gateway restaurant. I enjoyed some vegetarian lasagna.
Our race started at 7:45am. The majority of the participants were Scottish or other Europeans. I didn’t see any other Americans but I think there were a few others registered for the race series. The gear check was legitimate. They had tables set out to lay out gear and we had to fish out and show the race marshals each piece of mandatory equipment. I believe if I hadn’t had waterproof gear I would have been in very real danger of hypothermia on the CMD Ridge and Ben Nevis, so I’m glad they take his step seriously.
The coolest part of the start line was queuing up to the sound of live bagpipe music. I was feeling chilled as we waited to start and opted to keep my Patagonia fleece on. Once we started I soon regretted it, and removed it about a mile into the race.
We started with a short run across the bridge in Kinlochleven before quickly turning onto a singletrack trail that climbed up in the hills. We weren’t in the trees and ferns for long before we climbed above that and the landscape opened up. I ran ahead of Kara after the first mile. We ran our own races, as is typical in ultrarunning. The intermittent course cutoffs were tight and I wanted to put myself in the best position to get to do Ben Nevis and hopefully complete the course.
The third mile of the race featured a grind of a climb but the footing was relatively good (loose rock but it was dry and non-technical). Another loch came into view in the valley to my right. At about mile 3.5 the course had already gained 2,500′ of elevation gain and I was close to the clouds. The trail leveled out a wee bit and I ran when I could but the rocky terrain slowed my pace.
Just beyond the little lakes in the pictures above the trail went down and then up the gully pictured below. About 300′ of hard work lost and then we had to climb out again. I was feeling good but we still had almost 30 miles and 10,000′ of gain to go!
I tried to run but the trail was slippery mud and shallow puddles strewn with angular rocks and momentum was hard to accumulate. The views were amazing, though!
The route was well-marked with orange pin flags like the one visible in the photo above. The first six miles followed an obvious trail, but once we came down the back side of these hills we just followed flags across soggy, slippery, uneven ground. My feet slipped and I fell many times. So did the guy in front of me.
At the river crossing (no bridge, we just waded across) there was a race marshal letting us know we had about one hour to run the next 2.5 miles. If we failed to make that checkpoint in time we’d be directed to continue straight along the river for another three miles to the Glen Nevis aid station for a bus ride back. I ran as much as I could along this river trail, which at times was hard rock and very runnable but at others was wading through sucking bog mud up to my knees. The rain started during this section but I dared not stop to put on a rain jacket until I had cleared the next, critical checkpoint.
I succeeded. The race marshals sent me up the path of no return. The next 3.5 miles would be a relentless, non-stop grind of a climb gaining over 3,000′ to the summit of Càrn Mòr Dearg, the 9th highest peak in the Brittish Isles. From there, the way to the top of Ben Nevis followed the airy Càrn Mòr Dearg Arête about 1.5 miles. There are no roads up Ben Nevis and the only way down is to hike, run, or crawl back down. I was committing to the crux of the race. I later learned that Kara missed the mile 9 cutoff point and was not allowed to attempt the climb. She was routed along the river to the same Glen Nevis Visitor Centre. Her day ended with 11 miles. I would end up at the same spot at mile 19 after completing the high route.
The climb started by hiking right across the waterfall! The rain and wind picked up substantially soon after, so I dug into my pack and put on my waterproof rain jacket. Water resistant would not have cut it.
My legs were definitely starting to feel fatigued at this point, and I knew I still had nearly another 10,000′ of gain ahead of me. This was an epic adventure! I snapped the photo above and the next three below in a pretty short section of trail before putting my phone away in a dry inner pocket. For the next mile or two I was admiring the cloud-shrouded Scottish scenery when I could but also just working from one orange flag to the next.
The footing wasn’t great and my feet turned and twisted and sipped on the wet grass. Eventually the course took us through a creek crossing and I talked to the Scottish athlete Ben who I had been leap-frogging for the last couple miles. I was running low on my two liter water bladder and realizing that the course “checkpoints” were just course marshals with emergency radios, not aid stations with water and nutrition for runners. I was glad I had enough food in my pack, but I would need more water. I noticed Ben filling his flasks in the creek and it didn’t appear he was using a filter. I asked him about it and he laughed and said this water is coming straight off the mountain and is the cleanest water you’ll find anywhere. He said he’s been drinking from mountain streams his whole life. I cupped my hands and drank several handfuls of icy water directly out of the flowing stream. It tasted great, but it made my hands cold. I didn’t want to stop and open my pack in the wind and rain, but knew I wouldn’t have a better chance as we climbed higher. I stopped, reluctantly took off my protective rain jacket, put on another layer (my Patagonia fleece), put the rain jacket back on, ate a quick snack (some pancakes I had brought), and donned some waterproof gloves. I was thankful I had trekking poles for the all the climbs and descents!
The next two miles were absolutely wild. Wind was ripping over the ridges 30-40 mph, brutal enough that despite having hunger for a snack I didn’t dare open a pouch or pocket. The rain was icy and horizontal. And the climb was steep (I didn’t have the energy to try and photograph the worst parts). But eventually I reached the summit of my first Munro (Scottish peaks with an elevation of 3,000′ or higher, of which there are 282). I didn’t even pull out my phone to take a picture at the summit of Càrn Mòr Dearg.
Ben and a French runner reached the summit and the three of started the long scramble along the CMD Arête. This airy ridge is supposed to have amazing views of the Scottish highlands on a clear day but we were in the clouds. It seemed like the perfect place to encounter a dragon (and honestly, the heat of some dragon fire sounded pretty nice in the insane wind and cold). I packed my trekking poles for this section so I could use my free hands to secure points of contact for a careful traverse. A fall here could be fatal. Even a small slip could lead to a broken leg or bumped head and a really bad situation. We were very far from help. It was good to have the company of some other runners up there. Ben switched easily between conversing with me in English and speaking French with the French runner. The three photos below don’t show the wind but they should give you a sense of the exposure. Those drop offs were steep!
There were a couple of tricky maneuvers to get across the last bit of the ridge but we all crossed safely. We reached a cairn and another participant taking a rest there. The last push up to the summit of Ben Nevis was a steep mound of scree. Technically less difficult than the ridge we had just traversed but it was steeper and my legs felt shot. I was layered up above the waist but I was still wearing my board shorts. I had thought about pulling on my waterproof rain pants but stopping on the ridge in that wind wasn’t a good option so I pressed on without. I slogged up the last bit and eventually found the summit of Ben Nevis. I was on the tallest point of the UK! My second country high-point, after Mt Teide (Spain) in 2022.
The summit of Ben Nevis, at mile 14, was wind-whipped and shrouded in fog, with the obscured figures of runners, race marshals, and tourists adding confusion to the route. It took a bit of searching to find each consecutive course flag until the main trail down to Glen Nevis Visitor Centre, the mile 19 aid station, was obvious. From there it was all downhill. An easy five miles, dropping 4,200′ in elevation, on the main trail up and down Ben Nevis. This is the route most tourists take to bag this peak, and there were quite a few hikers out for such a bad-weather day.
If I could descend and reach the aid station within about an hour I would be allowed to continue on the course. That would require running 12-minute miles, which was possible for me even on that slick rock. But my quads were shot, partly from being so cold from the exposure to the wet and cold, and the bigger issue was pain in my knee. Had I understood that the course was being changed to a shortened, bad weather route from mile 19 to the finish line, cutting out a lot of the remaining vert, I might have pushed with more determination. But with how I felt, and believing I still had about 5,000′ of gain left to climb and descend, I settled into a hike, took pictures, and tried my best to enjoy the descent down Ben Nevis. I lived in the moment and took photos and will always remember the last few miles of the last Ben Nevis Ultra (Salomon Skyline Scotland is permanently discontinuing this event after seven years of offering it).
I decided I would drop from the race at the Glen Nevis Visitor Centre. As I descended I dipped beneath the bottom of the clouds and was treated with some great views. The wind softened and the rain let up.
My knee was aching pretty good after the long descent and I’m not sure I couldn’t finished the race had I made the cutoff, but I was almost an hour too late by the time I reached the aid station. The last little bit was a flat trail along a sheep paddock and across a footbridge spanning a larger river.
I was congratulated for my effort and handed a bunch of snacks for the bus ridge back to Kinlochleven. Ben, who had run off ahead after we finished the CMD ridge, had dropped there too and we chatted on the ride back. At this time, I had no idea if Kara was still on the course or not. I found her back at the guesthouse and she filled me in on her own experience.
I was happy with the result. Summiting the tallest mountain in Scotland is something I would have built into my trip itinerary anyway, and to do it this way, as part of a fun race and via the CMD ridge, was a memorable experience. I was dealing with cellulitus/lymes disease (both?) just before this trip and wasn’t sure if I’d be able to race, or even go on my Scotland trip. I was taking antibiotics the whole time, and just being able to participate and give it a shot was awesome. The finisher medal would have just been icing on a really good cake.
Check out my Scotland trip blog for highlights of the rest of my Scotland trip!
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