Date: 14 May
Distance: Approximately 30km (we measured 34km)
Time: 5:45

The most fun you can have on winding, super hilly, muddy bike tracks, without a bike. Until it is ‘fun’, but not fun anymore.

This was the fifth running of the Summerhill Skedaddle (not to be confused with the new Skedaddle event on the South Island). The event runs on mountain bike trails in the Papamoa hills of Tauranga, and I have no doubt the organisers picked the most hilly trails in the park. When I saw Chris Townley at the start, I should have known something was up …

The format is as follows: it starts at 9am and finishes at 3pm, the course is a 5km loop, which you can run as a two-person team, a random Skedaddler, or a solo Skedaddler, and the aim is to complete as many (or as little) loops as you want. The randoms arrive when they want, start when they want and do as many loops as they want. Everyone gets a medal and a beer.

Apart from the teams (and there were many of them), the solo runners numbered 38 men, and 24 women. Random skedaddlers tallied 212, and a maximum of 500 participants are allowed. At a guess, I’d say we were between 300 and 350. The female record was eight laps, broken this year by Caitlin Knox to make it nine (phenomenal on that course!) and the male record remains at ten laps.

When you don’t know what to expect it is very easy to make up numbers beforehand. Like, six hours are allowed, maybe I can make 40km if I jog some and walk the rest. I honestly thought that 5km per hour is totally doable and a bare minimum, therefore easily completing 30km. Turns out, 30km was quite a challenge!

We’ve had some terribly hectic weeks, and this event and trip to Tauranga (some six plus hours drive one way) could not have been more badly timed. However, we were keen to experience this event and it was also a chance to catch up with our good friend Rob. We haven’t seen him since 2019, and it was about time we do an event together again.

With too much wine the night before, a bit of a hangover (thank goodness we sorted our food and drinks beforehand), we arrived not so bright and early at a very festive event base – a woolshed on the Summerhill Farm, owned by a private charitable trust established by David & Cloie Blackley on private land. After paying our dues and writing our names on a board, we queued for a last pee before getting to the start, which was in front of the shed. The start/finish farm track in front of the shed was lined on both sides by gazebos and tents and whatever people were using as setup to stash their sustenance, and shelter their cheering crews. Actually, each lap officially started and finished in the woolshed where you tick off your own laps, but the line of gazebos made for a nice ‘finish shoot’.

At 9am we were counted down and all participants dashed down a steep paddock to get onto the trails. I thought we were near the back, bit I guess we ended up somewhere in the middle. With around 300 runners on a single track, things are bound to be a little congested, and passing or getting passed was a bit tricky, so I tried to hold my place in the long line of runners. I was going okay, despite knowing we were running a bit too fast and I might regret it later on. I was delighted to see a toilet in the first kilometre in the pine forest and decided then that I would make use of it on the second lap. The toilets near the shed were a little bit out of the way, and super smelly. When I used these toilets before the start, I had to hold my breath, and figured the bushes will have to do for future pee stops. It was nauseatingly smelly. Turns out it the bush loo was a composting toilet and really not meant for large volumes (300 people!) of pee.

After the toilet a nice runnable kilometre, or thereabouts, on an overall downhill gradient that took us lower down in a valley where a super muddy section just got worse as the day went on (our photos were all from the first three laps, where that section was already pretty muddy. We forgot to take the camera, and the phone had to do – hence all the out of focus photos). On the first loop we could get through the mud not totally soaked, but by the forth lap, it was a soggy, muddy ankle deep mess, and slippery.

The first 1.5 kilometres is roughly on a downhill gradient, followed by a 1.8km stretch up and down over a hill in the middle of the loop, to finish with the last 2 kilometre on an uphill gradient. Not that that is an accurate description of the course. All around the loop there are short ups and downs to make sure it remains a challenge. A few short ups (three?) were super steep, an almost all fours kind of steep, and I was grateful we didn’t have to come down these. There is not a lot of flat areas, and add to this very windy paths, and the pace comes down considerably. Despite going flat out and ‘running’ what felt like the biggest part of the loop, we finished the first loop in 44 minutes. I knew right then that a loop an hour would be good for my capability at this stage of my training. That is if I could keep going for six hours, which was the main aim. We also needed to factor in the ticking off of laps, getting food and water, pee, etc.

We finished the second loop in 48 minutes, the third in 46 minutes, fourth in 51 minutes, fifth in 55 minutes and the sixth lap in 54 minutes. Which wasn’t too bad going, I think. We dilly-dallied about 48 minutes between laps all up (mixing electrolyte, topping up water and snacks, eat something, loo stops, and ticking off our laps). We opted to run with a small bag of snacks (jetplane jelly sweets, marshmallows, dates) and a small water bottle to have sustenance on the run. At our base setup we also had gherkins, prosciutto, bananas, date balls, sesame snacks, and electrolyte drink.

Adding to the festivities, were a bag pipe player near the halfway point which was also near the woolshed with sound carrying through the valley, and a lone saxophone player deep in the forest with beautiful sound akin to Lisa Simpson leaving music practice. Some wonderful jazzy notes to keep us going on the hills. At the base there was either music playing over the sound system, or live entertainment. As some runners only did one or two loops, or didn’t stay until after lunch, things quieted down somewhat on the trail for the last couple of laps, and the passing or getting passed got a bit less.

A burger cart was making what looked (and smelled!) liked delicious (huge!) burgers, so every time we finished a lap, people were stuffing their faces on the porch of the woolshed where we had to run through to get to the board to tick off a lap, which is pure torture. All I wanted to do was stop and be done with the pain. Unfortunately the burger lady had packed up when we finished, so no burger at the end. But happy with our medals, an iced tea for me, and beer for Gerry and Rob, we ate the last of our prosciutto, gherkins, and crisps, before I dragged my sore body to the car.

Gerry and Rob opted to help collect course markers, and although I was fully prepared to help, I realised within the first few steps that I was going to hold everyone up. To say I was buggered is an understatement. My muscles were completely spent, and for the first time ever I developed a super sore left hip (my FAI is on the right) on the fourth lap. It was especially sore going uphill, and I figured the problem must be muscle related. Admittedly I need to work on my strength, and it will become more important as we go longer.

The course was well marked with colourful ribbons and bunting, course markers and arrows, and entertaining props were scattered around the loop. Where have I seen that gorilla before?

The lowest point was at 120 metres above sea level, and the highest point at 204 metres. It is advertised as a free event, but effectively you pay what you want via a voluntary donation system, and the money is used to maintain the trails.

It is one of the toughest 34km I’ve ever done, and a timely reminder that we should get off the flat roads and into the hills. Not sure when and how, as it is not practically possible on a regular basis, but even once a month should help already.