Essgjengen. Winners of the 2010 4 summit Race team competition. Photo: Inge Scheve
The last weekend of June, location: Vingelen, just north of Tynset in eastern Norway where weather patterns from the west, east and north collide. That spells interesting climatic conditions and an ideal location for the annual 4 Summit Race.
The rules are simple: 4 summits, 3,500 meters of elevation gain over a minimum of 150 kilometer distance (depending on route selection and navigation skills), no motorized travel and 24 epic hours to report back to the race HQ. As appealing as it sounds, I opted for the 4 Summit Race Light (4SRL). That’s four smaller peaks, a quarter of the distance and 6 hours to finish.
June 26 was a gorgeous day – on paper. But given the climatic issues with Vingelen, all bets are off on the weather report, and Mother Nature served up temps in the 40s for highs, sleet, gale force winds, fog and 30 feet visibility on the peaks for the competitors in the long race. Our short version should prove to be enough of a bear.
4Summit Race start, Vingelen June 26 2010. All dressed for sleet, wind and 150 + kilometers of fun on the tundra. Photo: Inge Scheve
As novice 4 summit racers, my Mom (who is 60 years old!) and I decided to race as a pair: I have the engine; she’s got the map skills. After studying the map of the targets (peaks) and surveying the bike legs, we opted for picking them off clock-wise. But admitting to being wet behind the ears in this context, we asked the event organizers the morning of the race if our choice of route was the best. They suggested going counter-clockwise. That choice had a steeper approach to the first summit, but once that was plucked, you’d have a cake walk to the rest: slight downhill to the finish. At least in theory.
We started out trailing the field, and the gap just widened. Mom realized there is something to be said for accumulating bike miles before long and steep rides. Once at the end of bikeable terrain, we proceeded to brave the gale on foot toward the tundra peak of “Knausvola,” roughly 3,500 feet elevation. One target down, three to go. Back to the bikes and onwards to the west, staring gales and sleet in the face. After another hour (by now, all other competitors were out of sight, and we were 1/3rd into the cutoff time with only one peak bagged), we spotted Dad’s car on the side of a forest service road. He was off luring mountain trout onto flies, having said no thanks to adventure racing and assumed the role of support. To Mom, the parked vehicle looked like Nirvana. But we kept on task. However, some more miles of biking into the headwind with spitting sleet, Mom called it a day. She turned around and headed for the car.
I was left with the task of reporting back to race HQ with the timing chips and telling them we DNF. I got there about the time when the first light racers were finishing. Quite embarrassed, I had to admit that no, I was not looking for the finish chute. I was looking for the race secretary, and quietly returned the chips. Then slithered away out the back and rode back up the first ascent to find the red car. But when I got there, it was gone. So I rode back to the finish, only to find no car there either. And back up the same ascent to where I thought we were parked, maybe I just didn’t see it? Nope, definitely no car there. So I rode back down to the HQ. Still no sign of the ‘rents. At that point, I just figured they’d get back here eventually, and have better kept my Coke cold. I walked to the bathroom, changed my soaked top and put on my spare one. Hanging out in sweaty gear is a sure way to get sick. As I walk out, the red car swings into the parking lot.
At the end of the day, I had completed more miles and more elevation gain than the 4 Summit Race Light entailed, in just about 3 hours. The top female in the 4 SRL was done in 2:49:15. The fastest 4 SRL racer clocked in at 2:20:56. Mom had learned that before next year’s event, she will bike more. And we both agree that going after the targets clockwise would have been a better option: it would have left the tallest peak for last, but given us a gentler/less steep approach and a wicked downhill for the finish line. The take-away from the experience: trust your own guts! We’re both looking forward to next year’s adventure, we’ll be prepared!
Mom at the start of the race: prepared for all the weather Mother Nature can serve up on a summer (?) day. Photo: Inge Scheve
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