Six Otter Tales
A tribe of wild people who are dedicated to running a rugged stretch of coastline called the Otter Trail was born in 2009. They have returned each year since then. Some tackled their first Otter this year, while others, longer in the tooth, look back on happy years in service to those who run. Enjoy these six stories of pure wildness!
OTTER AFRICAN TRAIL RUN 2017 presented by Salomon South Africa
MY FIRST OTTER!
By Robert Shaff
After I missed earning an Abangeni (top 24 men starters) batch by one second in the Prologue, I started to wonder what other surprises this race had in store for me, and whether it was going to be one of those weekends.
The build-up to this race is electric. The vibe can be felt all around the SANParks De Vasselot campsite at Nature’s Valley. The Prologue and race briefing are handled spectacularly by the Magnetic South team, and makes the event truly world-class.
Race day arrived! Starting at 7:10am in the batch after the Abangeni was nerve-wracking. Once you start though, the sheer beauty trumps everything. In the first few kays you traverse coastal sections with massive waterfalls, climbing root-covered singletrack, and jumping boulders.
My plan was for a conservative start, which really allowed me to take in all the sights. Being overtaken is always difficult – you have to mentally force yourself to stick to your gameplan and not get caught up racing too early.
Everything felt good and my body was moving well for the first two hours. This did not last indefinitely... Blisters started to form on the underside of my feet from my now wet running shoes. And Otter steps are steep and unyielding, so there were early signs that my calves, quads, and hip flexors were in for a long day out and that cramp was a very real possibility.
Shortly after Oakhurst hut (20km), things took a turn for the worse. A steep climb and fast descent, followed by a long rock-hopping section put a serious dent in my plans. Cramps were setting in fast and those blisters were really starting to hurt. My sense of humour started to fail me and after a few mistakes and trips, my headspace deteriorated quickly.
Half an hour later, rock-hopping over some. I was so close to giving up, just three and a half hours into the race. I was not moving well, feeling down, running low on energy, and cramping hard in places I didn’t know existed. At this point, I was about six minutes behind my scheduled pace. (Although the conservative start was part of the plan, it meant I was going to need to be feeling strong for the finish... I was now feeling .) And I genuinely thought to myself .
