Runpacking the Route of Nice Côte d'Azur by UTMB
By Tom Reynolds
Photos by Luke Douglas
“It is very simple to be happy, but it is very difficult to be simple.” - Rabindranath Tagore, Bengali philosopher
In August we run-packed some of the route of the world renowned Nice Côte d’Azur by UTMB, an off-road 100 mile race through the Mercantour mountains. The concept was simple – catch a bus 100km north of Nice then run back to the sea. The weather was, supposedly (more of which later), didn’t need much thought either. And most importantly, we were aligned in our ambitions.
Live as basically as possible for two nights and three days. One foot in front of the other. Sleeping outside. Worrying only about food, water and shelter.
In day-to-day life, as Tagore says, it is difficult to live with such humble ambitions. Having to carry everything in an 18 litre pack on your back makes it easier. Concentrates the mind. Only the essentials, and everything shared. Toothpaste, toothbrush, sun cream, sudocrem, sandwiches, nut butters and emergency sweeties. The lightest way to commune with nature? Combine and conquer.
As we entered the last five km, shortly after stumbling upon a cheese ‘shop’ in the sky – an unmanned stack of cheese inside a disused military bunker – a shepherd came into view on the most magical singletrack terrace of running terrain. We enquired about l’orage’s (the thunderstorm) intentions. Were we about to get struck by lightning and soaked to our skin? “Non” came the confident reply. The incredible ridge line we were running was going to be the end of the line for the storm, according to our shepherd friend.
It, the storm, would stay in the valley behind us. Mercifully, he was, right. And even more miraculously, the disused military base we had eyed up on the map to sleep at had a little outside deck that was perfect for bivvying. France was basically shut during our trip – and so we could only eat what we had got our hands on at a mid-afternoon supermarket stop. Half a bag of nuts, half a baguette and half a bag of Haribo. And then semi-awake by five the next morning, we realised we had the small matter of a half-marathon to tackle before breakfast.
No matter, we made it to breakfast, then to lunch, and then to the second balcony in this tale of the terraces. On night two we booked an Airbnb (we’re not that into simplicity) that although reasonably priced had a disproportionally ridiculous view from the mountains to the sea. France was still shut.
So we kept it simple. Beer, crisps and hummus on the balcony, then straight to bed.Fifty-two hours after we boarded the 91 bus heading north, we’d journeyed most of the 100km south and were back in sight of the ocean. We’d run some incredible, deserted trails across several Mercantour mountains.
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