Grand Raid 2016

The Grand Raid is a mountain bike endurance race in the classic mould. Big mountains and epic scenery. 2016 was the 27th edition of this 125km event which runs across the Swiss alps from Verbier to Grimentz.

Scruntineering sticker means your good to go!

The Raid has been on my radar for several years and I decided early in the year to make the event my main focus for 2016. Training had gone well,  primarily based on weekend 4 to 5 hour rides. My confidence over longer periods of time was slightly plagued with doubt, given some nutrition related stomach and fatigue issues. As we drove from the airport at Geneva into the alps I was also reminded of the massive scale of the mountains, that no amount of training in the UK can prepare you for.

That 27 years of experience shows, as the Grand Raid is very slickly organised. I rolled down into Verbier from our rental chalet at 11am on Friday the day before the race. The main street was already closed and the postal building had been converted for registration and bike scrutineering. I collected my number board and then watched nervously as two mechanics ran through their checks on my bike, before fitting the sticker that confirmed I was ready to race!

Saturday started early with a 5.15 alarm call. The street lights were still on, the sun well below the mountains, as I rolled down to the start. If you are gridded, as I was, you can literally roll up a minute before the start and climb into the 'elites' pen at the head of the 600 strong field. If not you'll have to fight for your place among the masses. Unless you are genuinely racing, starting at the front does however have its disadvantages. Firstly there is the temptation to race off with the leaders, and when you have successfully resisted that urge, there is the knock in confidence you get as, what feels like every mountain biker in Switzerland, floods past you on the first climb.

Talking of the first climb, there is no warm up. It is straight up the high street through Verbier and onto the wide gravel road that leads to the cable car station at the top of the mountain. I rode most of the climb with my friend Ian, nervously chatting and pacing each other for the long day ahead. At the top there is a rare section of level gradient. I grabbed a wheel and took a tow as a chain of riders snaked across the mountain side before the first descent.

Again mainly on wide gravel roads we wove our way down at break neck speed. This early in the race you needed eyes in the back of your head to avoid those nutters coming through from behind, while passing the more tentative riders ahead.

What follows are mere undulations compared with what was to come, but as the route winds around Nendaz and through to Veysonnaz there is plenty of climbing and fun fast descents. The vast majority of this on wide maintained paths and tracks. As you race through various villages each junction is taped, every road closed, or the riders are given priority. Locals line the route, tables and chairs set out as they make a day of it. The next proper drag is up to 2000m at Les Collons, this climb uses slightly less major forest tracks and finishes with about a mile of really sweet wooded singletrack. I also enjoyed the descent down from here, whooping with excitement! It is still terrifyingly fast, but with much more varied terrain and some slightly more technical sections to mix it up.

At this point on the route map there are only two climbs remaining, but you are still barely half distance. I had been racing for 4 hours 30 minutes with still 6 hours ahead of me! Much of the pre-race conversation had been about the forecast of heavy rain, which even provoked the race organisers to confirm the event would go ahead via Facebook and email. We'd been lucky so far but a heavy shower hit as I left the feed station at Heremence, so I pulled on my rain jacket. Many around me didn't and as we began the long tarmac ascent the rain eased and despite persistent drizzle I had to stop again to remove the jacket to ensure I didn't overheat.

I briefly donned my rain jacket.

I found the feed stations well stocked, with a variety of fruit, energy bars, and drinks on offer. I stuck to bananas and water to which I added my own SIS tablets. Many rode with just a single bottle and although I probably could have coped I ensured I filled up both my large and standard bidon at each stop. I also carried a top tube bag containing 6 SIS Go bars and 2 gels. On an event like this, in order to prevent problems, I preferred to use something I knew my body was familiar with.

The climb went on for what felt like forever! It was all on tarmac up to the next feed stop, before it set off across the top of the mountain. This section was tough. Damp rutted and rocky, I had to shoulder the bike several times and although it was actually going downhill much of the time, I made slow progress. To add to the physiological battle, the inflatable arch at Pas de Lona was visible on the horizon. Not only was it clearly much higher than my current location, it was also the other side of a very, very deep valley.

All that hard fought altitude had to be surrendered, and by now the descent was hard work for a weary body and mind. At least in the valley it was noticeably warmer and had stopped raining. There was quite a crowd down here and another feed station to boost the moral before it was back to the climbing. Up and up, we rode in silence. We'd slowly pass one another staring blankly at the track ahead, each rider in their own world of suffering and pain. I knew there was a 'hike a bike' section up to the pass and I began to long for it to arrive just for some variety - how wrong I was. Eventually after over an hour, I cleared the tree line and the summit came into view. My god it looked a long way off! I could make out riders like ants creeping up to the inflatable arch we had seen earlier.

The epic scenery of the Grand Raid

The walking started much earlier than I had expected and I was almost immediately wishing I could get back on the bike. Pedalling a constant rhythm was what I had trained for, carrying a bike over a mountain in carbon soled race shoes was pure agony. The gradient became so steep that several times I struggled to maintain my balance and stop myself falling back down the scree slope. I just concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, knowing that it was the only way to end the suffering, there was no alternative now. I stopped looking up as that was far too depressing and concentrated on tiny steps. Although well above 2500m the sweat literally poured off my nose and chin. People had gathered up here to support the riders. They waved flags, rang cow bells and shouted, "Bravo Ben," but I didn't and couldn't look up to acknowledge them.

The summit of the Pas de Lona after 2hrs climbing

The track was loose and it was hard to get a good purchase. Then I felt the gradient lessen. I raised my head in time for a photographer to take my picture. I had reached the arch. The relief was immeasurable! Stiff limbed I climbed back aboard the bike and charged off down the other side. It was rough and challenging so even this didn't come as a relief. I'd studied the profile and knew there was another kick up before the final descent, but it had looked like an insignificant lump sitting at home on the sofa. Nothing is insignificant at 2800m and rounding the corner to see the snow lined hairpin path high above, with riders scattered along it, was a bitter pill to swallow. At least it was better than walking!

Happy to cross the line in Grimentz!

At last I crested the final climb, but the bottom of the valley wasn't even visible. What lay ahead was 40 minutes of punishing descending, on challenging rocky and loose terrain with steep gradients. I splashed through one of the stream crossings and looking up I could eventually see Grimentz below. That really lifted the spirits as I tore down the mountain side scattering rocks and dust in my wake. I crossed the line in 10hrs and 32 minutes.

The views and the scenery had been amazing. This race takes you to places you'd never normally visit as a tourist. Farming hamlets high on the mountain, that looked unchanged for hundreds of years. The simple breathtaking scale of the Alps hits you when you find yourself in such remote locations. It was without doubt the best day I have ever spent on a bike. Incredibly challenging physically but beautifully brutal!

Family congratulations!