Magoebaskloof Ultra 45km: A Trail Run or Obsticle Course?

Perhaps this race should be rebranded as an obstacle course rather than a trail run. The sun rose on our backs as we zigzagged our way up the mountain, an intense hike spanning over 3km before the trail leveled out, though only for a fleeting moment. Just as we found our rhythm, the terrain reminded us that running was merely a distraction from the real challenge ahead.

The so-called "runnable" sections and descents were riddled with natural obstacles as if deliberately placed to slow us down. Protruding roots, fallen trees, and countless river crossings ensured that we stayed hyper-focused, leaving little room for conversation. This race demanded complete presence, forcing us inward to concentrate on every step. As I passed one runner, he quipped that he was in it for the long haul---something we all felt deeply by that point.

The first section of the race was a shared route for the 28km, 45km, and 60km distances, with the paths splitting later. When we reached the 45km and 60km divergence, I sent up a silent prayer of gratitude for choosing the shorter option. The 60km runners faced two additional brutal climbs, and considering how much we were already suffering, I couldn’t fathom enduring more. This race wasn’t just about endurance- it demanded resilience, persistence, and an iron will.

At around the 17km mark, we finally hit a stretch of gravel road. It was a welcome relief, offering about 6km of runnable terrain, just enough to find a rhythm. But like all good things in this race, it didn’t last. The trails soon converged again, and we met some of the 60km runners, none of whom had good news to share. Thankfully, a well-placed water station provided much-needed refreshments. We had three water stations and four check-in points throughout the course to keep us going.

The stats were daunting: a total vertical ascent of just over 2,000 meters and a cutoff time of 11 hours. Along the way, we passed notable landmarks---some breathtaking, others breaking us. The tallest tree ever planted? I missed it. Fern Valley, with its eucalyptus-scented air, felt like a healing center, if only for a fleeting moment. Debengeni Falls stood as a serene consolation before the chaos to come. The infamous “Wall of Magoebas” lived up to its name; we had all hit the proverbial wall by the time we reached it. And then came Magoebas’ Magic Miles, which greeted us with the rudest downhill, punishing already exhausted legs.

The 45km distance is the perfect middle ground, just enough suffering to make you swear off doing more but not enough to stop you from coming back. And yet, despite the pain, I suspect this will become an annual ritual of pain and pleasure. The location change from the previous years made perfect sense, with ample parking, accessibility, and space for post-race entertainment—if you had any energy left to enjoy it.