Race On The Edge
The annual multi-discipline Heb race across the Outer Hebrides is not for the faint-hearted
Are you fit enough for The Heb, a multi-discipline race across the Outer Hebrides?
PRE-RACE nerves for The Heb, which takes place annually, usually in September, on the Scottish island chain of the Outer Hebrides, started at least a week before the event as my partner Gordon and I considered what kit to pack.
We were expecting a mix of terrain over the two days of racing on Benbecula, South Uist and North Uist, with sections of cycling, kayaking and running across tarmac and gravel tracks, sandy beaches and open sea.
The Hebrides have a reputation for all seasons in one day so we would need to be prepared for all of the above in rain, sunshine, wind and cold.
On top of this, our gear needed to fit into a bag weighing a maximum of 20kg (44lbs).
The only parts of The Heb – subtitled “The Race on the Edge” which this year has been postponed until May 2021 – that we could be sure of were the ferry times, the campsites and the provided meals. Our worries only mounted on the Friday as we boarded the ferry from Mallaig, on the mainland, to South Uist.
Around us, people pored over maps and instructions, seemingly comfortable with the intricacies of multi-stage races, time penalties versus time on the ground and the terrain. Gordon and I agreed that as adventure race novices we would aim to do the mandatory cycling and kayaking sections, and tick off a minimum number of checkpoints during the running sections.
We decided that the aim of the race was fun rather than winning. Yet, as soon as the starter horn sounded on the Saturday at Benbecula campsite, and the competitors ran along a beautiful sandy beach in a short Le Mans-style start, we found ourselves caught up in the competition.
We charged into the first transition, grabbed our helmets, jumped on our mountain bikes – fitted with smooth tyres – and raced off as fast as we could. We barely had time to enjoy the views as we pedalled furiously to catch the slipstream of small groups of cyclists.
In what seemed like no time at all, we had reached transition two on the adjoining island of North Uist, 21km (13 miles) from the start, and swapped to running.
Suddenly, the pace slowed. We needed to focus on our race maps as we headed over rugged, water-logged ground to find the checkpoints.
Our agreement had been to tick off one checkpoint, but my race head got the better of me and I persuaded Gordon we should try for the second checkpoint, too. Unfortunately on the return we navigated incorrectly around a large lochan and cost ourselves a lot of time.
The Heb, we were discovering, is a race of tactics as well as fitness and determination.
While some of the more experienced racers also took in a third checkpoint, Gordon and I headed back to our bikes for another 24km (14.9 miles) of road cycling.
The beauty of The Heb – and one of the reasons we entered – was that novices can race alongside the experts, and solo competitors alongside pairs
Just as we were wondering if a road bike would have been a better choice, we set off across a wet and sandy causeway to the tiny island of Vallay, where mountain bikes had an advantage.
Leaving our bikes behind again, there were a possible four checkpoints to reach on Vallay. The white sand beaches on this part of the race were stunning and we fell into stride with another pair, Maggie and Karen.
Again, Gordon reminded me we had agreed to do just one checkpoint, yet my enthusiasm carried us to three and we left the island with only one small time penalty.
The sun was out, the views were fabulous and I was enjoying the challenge and meeting new people.
Some 10km (6.2 miles) of cycling later, things took a downturn. Sunshine had turned to a headwind and torrential rain and as we battled uphill I felt my temperature plummet.
The transition marshals did their best to cheer me up when we arrived at the jetty in Lochmaddy for the transition to kayaking. The sit-on kayaks were easy to steer and paddling along a sheltered shoreline was unexpectedly spirit-lifting.
“Paddling along the spirit-lifting” shoreline was
Then came the cycling – 35km (21.7 miles) on roads, easy-going trails, tyre-sucking bog, then back to roads again. I was drained of energy by the end of this and had to dig deep mentally and physically. The finish was back at the Benbecula campsite and it was a relief to sit down and eat before rolling into our tents.
Day two started unseasonably warm, yet wet, and with a promise of sunshine later on.
Although there was “just” 45km (27.9 miles) of cycling to do that day to South Uist, the first run-hike stage also included an option to summit two testing hills. This time, I heeded Gordon’s advice and we ticked off just one checkpoint, avoiding the hills.
With time on our hands, we were able to thoroughly enjoy the next part of the day’s racing, riding for 12km (7.4 miles) along a stunning beach on the western shore.
With the sun warming bare arms and legs and the clear waters lapping the sand, it seemed as if we had been transported to another country.
A short detour to a checkpoint on another tiny island, Orasaigh, revealed more fantastic views of the island chain before an enjoyable 3km (1.8 mile) kayak on clear and shallow waters. The last challenge was another ascent of a small hill, Coire Bheinn, close to the night’s campsite at Kilbride.
The elevation is only around 150m (492 feet) but the hillside is steep and Gordon and I had to encourage each other onwards and upwards.
Then – and despite having no idea of our overall position – we suddenly felt the need to run at full speed downhill to the finish line, which we crossed, exhausted but smiling broadly.
At the post-race party that evening, the prize-giving and results revealed the breadth of fitness and experience, but every entrant had completed it with a smile on their face.
Amazingly, Gordon and I came third in the mixed pairs category, though our time was almost eight hours slower than the winner!