West Macs Monster

May, 2024 - Amber

I had been watching this event out of the corner of my eye for a couple of years now. I knew the terrain and had scouted sections of the course in a 4-day stage race in 2022, but that was on fresh legs each day, with a hot shower, dinner with friends and a warm bed in a hotel each night. The reality of traversing the Larapinta Trail in the West Macdonald Ranges in one hit was exciting but more than a little terrifying. Which is exactly why I wanted to do it. 

My brother Matthew signed up for the 231 km Sonder Monster, but I knew that work and family commitments wouldn’t leave me with enough time to train for that. So along with my sister-in-law Jacqui, I signed up for the 128 km Ellery Monster as a compromise. 

The first 30 odd kms of the Ellery Monster is relatively runnable; mostly well marked but rocky single trail undulating through sparse bush and crossing dry sandy creek beds, so I was not surprised to catch up with Matthew after about 4 hours in Hugh Gorge. He had started at the western end of the Larapinta Trail a full 24 hours before our event started and had covered 103 km to get through the Ellery Creek checkpoint (which was our start line) before our event kicked off. Even with his head start, I had known I would be moving faster than he would on tired legs. We picked our way along the gorge for a while, scaling the side of a vertical rock face to avoid swimming in the icy water of a permanent waterhole and after a while Jacqui caught up to us. Matthew was still travelling well after a solid 30 odd hours of running with no sleep, but fatigue was setting in, so Jacqui and I settled into his pace to keep him company.  

As we scrambled through Spencer Gorge, slowly making our way over and around the boulders and rocks littering the gorge floor, the enormity of this event hit us. I knew that any small victory of achieving some arbitrary goal of finishing in a specific time in my own race, felt shallow in comparison to sharing the experience of this huge undertaking with my brother and so it felt right to stay with him. Besides, my dad had messaged me the day before to say that he was on his way from country Victoria to surprise Matthew at the finish line. Years before, after finishing UTA a couple of hours ahead of me, my dad had messaged Matthew telling him ‘well done, now go back and get your sister!’. I could only imagine what he would say if I came across the finish line of this race having left Matthew somewhere out there in the wilderness to fend for himself, and there was no way I would be going back out there to get him! 

And so, we pushed on through the day, over steep ascents, rock strewn watercourses and wound our way up Brinkley Bluff, to navigate the hazardous ridgeline of the Chewings Range in darkness and 50-plus km wind gusts. It is worth mentioning that navigation on the Larapinta Trail can be difficult at times, with barely the trace of a trail evident among the rocks, and at night, only brightly reflective signs with a blue arrow to reassure you are still on the right path. At times we could see them glowing in the flash of our headtorches far into the distance, and others they disappeared completely, leaving us bracing ourselves in the wind, precariously wondering where to go. But by 2am we had navigated our way down to Standley Chasm where we stopped for hot rehydrated meals and a much-needed rest on the cold concrete floor.  

The hours before sunrise saw us ascending once more out of the chasm to the top of the ‘high route’. My brother had organized a friend John to join him for 40 km from Standley Chasm so now we had someone to navigate, but the wind was too strong and the trail too treacherous to move quickly. Our slow pace meant that we were rewarded with an incredible dawn sky as we wound our way back down to join the sandy bedded Jay Creek and the first aid station of the day. From here the trail becomes much more runnable, undulating as it crosses small watercourses and open plains so after a quick chat to the amazing volunteers and a 231 km runner Peter, who was climbing stiffly out of a swag after a brief sleep, we pushed on towards Simpsons Gap, anxious to make up some time.  

We reached Simpsons Gap by 2:15 pm with 25 km to go, including one more ridgeline, and just under seven hours until cutoff. With the finish line in sight, the prospect of some more runnable trail sections ahead and the looming pressure of cutoffs, we picked up the pace a little while we could, winding our way through sparse forest high along the southern face of Rungutjirba Ridge before facing our last big climb to the top of Euro Ridge as the sun was setting once again, the lights of Alice Springs in the distance. Slowly as we descended, the lights grew closer and we started passing signs we were getting closer to town, passing other tracks and fire trails, crossing over the railway line, and passing under a large bridge. Anxious to make cut off, Jacqui and I cajoled and caught Matthew as he repeatedly stumbled on the rocky trail, fatigue settled heavily on his shoulders. Eventually we heard the PA system announcing the final runners as we rounded a corner, came into the Telegraph Station, and saw my dad waiting 500 m from the finish line. We had made it, 24 minutes shy of the 60-hour (for the 231 km race) and 36-hour (for the 128 km) cutoff!  

Beers and medals were thrust into our hands, and we were ushered to chairs waiting for us by a large and very welcome fire. I was so proud of my brother for finishing, and even beating his goal time of 59 hours and 59 minutes! Sipping my beer and warming my aching feet by the campfire, surrounded by my family and a couple of amazing 231 km runners who had finished earlier and were intermittently sharing stories (‘trauma bonding’ as a previous Trailien once put it) and snoozing, I reflected on how lucky I am that there are other crazy people in the world who believe that this is fun.