Through hell

When 22-year-old Marie Palzer decided to take on the Mongol Derby, she was tackling the world’s longest and toughest horse race. Stu Hunt caught up with the intrepid Marahau teacher on the adventure of a lifetime.

Don’t be nervous, be proud. That was the advice Marie Palzer’s sister gave her before she entered the Mongol Derby – the world’s longest and toughest horse race.

A race in which entrants cross 1000 kilometres of Mongolian wilderness on wild horses, through extremes of heat and cold, dust and driving rain, while encountering packs of wild dogs and wolves.

To be fair, there’s a bit to be nervous about. ‘‘The training and the research of the country and gear I would need ... when I thought about it all, I was so overwhelmed.

‘‘I had so many meltdowns in the leadup to the derby, it’s such a big thing to prepare for. I just had to break it down again and say ‘it’s OK, I’m on track’.’’

The 22-year-old Golden Bay kindergarten teacher definitely wasn’t short on preparation.

For starters, there was her length of the South Island trek from Farewell Spit to Slope Point in the Catlins last year, riding 2000km for charity. And she trained – a lot.

‘‘It’s one of those things. I never knew if I was training enough but what I did know was that the race was going to really tough. I wanted to be as prepared as I possibly could so I trained hard.

She committed to two or three crossfit classes a week and covered 160km a week running, riding and biking.

‘‘Mentally, I was ready, and physically as well as I could be. I got to the point in my training where I literally could not fit any more in whilst also working fulltime, and I felt ready.

‘‘You can never be completely ready for a 1000km race unless you’re a professional athlete. The Mongol Derby is too wild, filled with too many variables.

‘‘Reflecting back, in the sense of fitness, my body did amazing. I was astounded at what my body did.’’

Race day was August 8.

After training and preparation in the Mongolian capital of Ulaanbaatar, the field of 40 riders were taken to GPS co-ordinates literally in the middle of nowhere.

‘‘We’re driving along the road and the bus just turns off and starts four-wheel-driving. We got there and they had put up a couple of yurts for us to sleep in.’’

The Mongolian herders found it fascinating that there were suddenly so many Westerners in their midst but Marie says they were extremely accommodating.

‘‘They threw a shindig the night before. Then it was all go.’’

On race day, all of the riders geared up their first horses before nervously stacking up on the starting line.

The starting gun finally went off at 11am.

Marie describes that moment as hectic with 40 riders on wild horses.

‘‘You can imagine what wild horses are like. When they’re together, they’re a bit wilder.’’ Marie held back a bit at the start. ‘‘I didn’t want to get thrown off in the first 100m so I waited for the rush to go. I ticked along, I didn’t have to get food as I had planned ahead so I was super-fast through first checkpoint. I wanted to break away from the main crowd. Just vet check, new horse and then go.’’

The first horse was selected for each rider, and after that, they got to choose their own at each checkpoint.

She says the first horse was just like her one back home, ‘‘which was a good sign’’. The second horse was ‘‘a gun who flew, the fastest I had all race’’.

But the fact the horses were wild was her first challenge. Marie says it took four men to hold some of the horses so she could get on.

‘‘They weren’t broken, they had been backed before but riding them definitely wasn’t a trek.

‘‘Sometimes they would just run and you couldn’t stop them, you just had to hold them in the right direction and hold on.’’

Marie says the horses were also easily distracted.

‘‘Along the way, there were herds of wild horses roaming in the valleys. There are no fences in Mongolia, so the horses would just head towards the herd.’’

And because they were hard to control, it became challenging to ride and navigate at the same time.

She had a GPS holder that connected to her pack to help her ride and navigate, and she and fellow competitor Ed Fernon worked as a team.

‘‘There were times when you couldn’t take your hands off the reins so you would yell out ‘I can’t nav this stretch’. If you were by yourself, it would be tricky.’’

Of course, being out in the open for so much of the race also meant being exposed to the extreme weather conditions – challenge number two.

Several riders were forced to drop out of the race in the first leg due to hypothermia.

‘‘People have been asking me what’s the weather over there and I tell them what’s not over there.

‘‘We rode in sleet and rain that was so heavy you couldn’t keep your eyes open. And horrendous wind. We had gnarly weather.’’

Some of the days were very hot. ‘‘At one point I thought my bladder had broke, I was wondering what I was going to do and then I realised I was just sweating so much.’’

Challenge number three – the wildlife. ‘‘There were times I thought I could die right now.’’

Packs of wild dogs and wolves roam the countryside and they weren’t always a good mix with the racing horses. Marie says she was chased by dogs, which made for some tense times.

‘‘The dogs would see us coming. They would form a pack, head for you and you literally just had to hang on. The horses would bolt.

‘‘The thing I was most scared of was if the horse decided to throw me off at that moment, I reckon the dogs would have just eaten me.’’

While sleeping out, Marie and Ed heard wolves howling so they resolved to stay awake.

‘‘But the next thing, it was morning. You were so scared but just so exhausted. We couldn’t keep ourselves awake.’’

Marie says the riding definitely took a physical and mental toll.

‘‘There were times when the muscles in my thighs were so sore I couldn’t sit down without lowering myself down with my hands. I’d be walking and my legs would collapse underneath me.’’

Mentally, Marie says she would get in a zone and start thinking ahead.

‘‘But then I would have to snap myself back to the present because I knew I couldn’t do that. I might not make it to the next checkpoint, or who knows what could happen in the next hour.

‘‘So you also had to be really present. I was just on adrenaline the whole time. ‘‘

The countryside consisted of a lot of plains and rolling hills. No trees. Marie says it wasn’t until day five that she saw her first tree.

‘‘Because there were no landmarks to tell you you were making ground, it became a real mental thing. It was so hard to judge distance.’’

Riding started at 7am each day and everyone had to be at a standstill by 8.30pm.

But that didn’t always mean making it to the check-in.

Marie says there were times she would arrive late and knew she wouldn’t make the next check-in by deadline.

But she didn’t want to lose riding time so she’d ride on and sleep under the stars. Or find a Mongolian family.

She stayed with one family that was a little taken aback. ‘‘A Westerner turned up for the night on a horse with all of this fancy kit, they were like ‘what is going on?’

But they helped her tie up her horse and fed her for the night.

‘‘They were lovely. They didn’t speak a word of English, though, and the only Mongolian I knew was thank you.’’

She and Ed actually led the race for 800km but failure to keep her horse’s heart rate down incurred two time penalties of two hours each. They sat out one together but a second frustrating wait saw Marie drop back in the placings.

‘‘It was hard because we had made such a good team, and Ed felt bad leaving me behind. I encouraged him to go on and to win it for us.’’ Ed went on to win the race.

In the end, on the last two days, Marie says she was so ready to finish but she slowed down and held on to the final stages because, ironically, she didn’t want the race to end.

‘‘It was such weird feeling, I was holding on to it but I wanted it to be over. It was so hard. Man, it was hell.’’

On the morning of the eighth day, Marie finished in an impressive sixth place.

‘‘I was so overwhelmed by finishing and finishing in that position. We were allowed one phone call at the end of the race. I called my sister and just cried. It’s a feeling I will never forget.’’

Forty riders entered the race; two dropped out at pre-race training, hypothermia claimed several in the first two days, while broken ribs, concussion and a broken collarbone took out others.

In the end, 30 riders finished – 10 in the race category, which meant no outside assistance and riding inside times. After that, it was considered an adventure race where simply finishing was the goal.

Marie says probably the only trait that she and her fellow racers shared was that they all knew what they were doing with horses.

‘‘If you got all the people that did the derby together and took a photo and said what do these people have in common, I’m sure no-one would get it. They’re just such a diverse bunch of people.’’

Would she do it again?

‘‘At the finish line we talked about it and I was like ‘no way’. Now I’m like ‘I would do it again’. I wouldn’t pay for it myself; if I got sponsored or if I won Lotto, definitely.’’

She has her eye on another couple of new adventures – another horse race called Ride The Wild Coast in South Africa, and trekking in the Himalayas.

But, for now, Marie says simply being settled is her biggest challenge.

‘‘I don’t know if I could do anything that’s mentally and physically harder than the derby. I just happened to choose the world’s longest and hardest horse race as my first one.’’

Her sister’s advice has resonated, though. It is something she can be extremely proud of.