The Devil’s Ridge Ultra. Where do I begin? On the chance I took that sealed our commitment to this race? High in the Qilian mountains – or on the gnarly scramble that got us there? Or maybe in the gorgeous Danxia hills in the golden early morning light?
No matter where I start the story, this is a great one. This was a race full of firsts and highlights. It was a brand new challenge in a brand new part of the planet. The Devil’s Ridge Ultra might just be the best race you’ve never heard of.
The (long and lonely) road to this race
The road was only long and lonely in the literal sense. Half-lying on my suitcase in the back of a cramped cab in September 2019, I watched the desert scenery fly by through the open window. The highway was mostly empty, save for occasional convoys of huge trucks – the modern camel train supplying the remote outpost of civilization we were heading towards.
This was our first race in mainland China, but that did not mean it was easy to get to. The Devil’s Ridge Ultra was far: far from Qingdao, far from the metropolitan eastern seaboard, far from almost everywhere.
And that was half of what was wonderful about it! We would get to go on a journey: something I love more than anything. Just getting to The Devil’s Ridge Ultra promised adventure.
Booking our flights, I noticed a layover in a city I’d never heard of. One photo of Yinchuan revealed a complex of sandcastle-like tombs out in the desert – and I was charmed. It was not the most expedient option, but I was sold on a stopover.
So we had a mini adventure on the way to our big adventure! With about 24 hours in this new city, we had just enough time to find all the best juice stands. And of course, visit the scenic stuff!
Then it was on to the main event! Which meant, first, a flight into Jiayuguan, on which we met a racing friend. Outside the tiny airport, the three of us piled into a small taxi and then drove away from civilization, out into the desert.
My excitement bubbling over, I couldn’t stop exclaiming over the environment we were in. Kent’s birthday race was so completely different from my birthday race. We’d been deep in the jungle at TMMT, and now we were deep in the desert for The Devil’s Ridge Ultra. I loved it!
Around two hours later, we walked from our stately, old-fashioned hotel to the race check-in at Yumen city stadium. We’d missed the race briefing, so we were alone. At first, local volunteers seemed surprised to see us! But someone quickly swooped in with a clipboard, eager to help.
And so, we were soon in possession of our bibs – lucky numbers 13 and 14 this time! We signed the race poster and posed for a few pictures with it.
Then it was time to go shopping! Outside, there was an Altra booth – and that was just what we needed (not yet having figured out how to order stuff like trail shoes to our new address).
It might seem odd to include this, but we had an outstanding experience that deserves mentioning. The friendly vendors chatted with us in English about our options, and had our sizes in stock! However, we were running low on local currency and, when our credit cards wouldn’t work, we were prepared to apologize and walk away.
But that’s not how it played out. Our new friend Fred told us we could simply transfer him the cost the following week, and insisted we take the shoes! This was a huge kindness; we were shocked and touched and unable to convey the magnitude of our gratitude.
To say that the people were great would be an understatement. We also met the liveliest, friendliest race director. Whyllen was eager to tell us about his races in the neighboring Xinjiang province, and after seeing a few videos, we were ready to sign up!
And so we went back to our hotel feeling delighted and inspired. Next up was finding food, which had already proven a challenge on the trip. But we were in luck again! Our hotel had its own restaurant, housed in a massive, multi-story building on the other side of a garden. With the magic of translation apps, we ordered all of the green things on the menu.
The sun sets late in Gansu province, so I was surprised to discover that it was after 8 pm already! So we finished our meal, did the last of our race prep and settled into a huge bed for a great night’s sleep.
The Devil’s Ridge Ultra 2019
I woke up after a better-than-usual pre-race sleep. I even remembered a dream about puppies, which seemed lucky! We ate a little: part one of an extended, three-course breakfast I had planned. It was still four hours to go time.
We walked back through darkened city streets to catch a shuttle bus in front of the stadium. As we waited to depart, we talked to runners from all over China (including someone from our province, Shandong!).
Most runners used the drive as a chance to snack or sleep. I’d nabbed a window seat, so I watched the sky slowly brighten over the desert. Our bus drove down the highway: south, towards Jiayuguan, which surprised me! After about half an hour, we turned west onto a dirt road and bumped along for a further 30 minutes.
Race camp, as it was called, was visible from afar. It was as big a small village: dozens of tents set up in a square around a huge stage. Once there, our first order of business was visiting the toilet tents: I’d been trying extra hard to be well-hydrated in the dry, high conditions of this new environment!
It felt like we had a lot of time before the start of The Devil’s Ridge Ultra, but it went by quickly. Runners milled around to a soundtrack of classic rock mixed with Chinese hits. Kent and I lathered on sunscreen, donned hats and ate the remainder of our breakfasts. The sun rose red through a dust cloud on the horizon. Soon, it was time to line up in front of the starting arch for our 60k.
After a brief address from the host (complete with reminders about what to do in case of rain), the crowd of runners closed in on the start line. The 60k and the 25k races were set to start at the same time, so it was a large group!
Section 1: Danxia
Several simultaneous gunshots rang out, starting the The Devil’s Ridge Ultra. And we were on our way! I was amazed at how quickly some racers blasted off, but we were hot-footing it ourselves; close on the heels of the lead pack!
From the starting arch, the trail ran a few hundred meters across a flat area of sandy soil, dotted with hardy desert plants. But it quickly swerved into a dry canyon. An avalanche of runners kicked up a lot of dust, and I immediately felt it sift into my shoes. Luckily, it was as fine as flour – no painful pebbles, and besides, this was no time for hesitation.
We bounded down the narrow canyon in a pack. Some runners scrambled back up the sides, looking for places to pass. The man running in front of me was speedy and undaunted by the sand underfoot and occasional prickly branch to the face, so I kept chasing him!
Back up out of the canyon, across a flat area with waving volunteers, and then, into the Danxia! What is Danxia, you ask? These striking and colorful rock formations!
Within a couple of kilometers, we’d reached what for me would stand out as a huge highlight of this race. The rainbow-hued pyramids rising up from the desert floor were simply awesome. It totally clicked for me why we’d started the race relatively late. It was so we could experience this, in all it’s glory!
I somehow managed to juggle the camera while running at a pace that left me just on the edge of comfort, breathing hard. First we ran below the rock formations, hugging red rock walls in narrow, twisting corridors. And then we ran up them for truly incredible views!
And of course, we ran down them as well. Or slid. Or tumbled! The soft sandy soil often gave way underfoot, and we’d find ourselves sliding down the hillside, slightly out of control.
Despite the fact that we were stomping (Kent later told me it was one of our fastest starts ever!), we were far from the fastest runners. We were downright amazed by some human mountain goats who were thriving in the harsh terrain!
Around every corner was a new, stunning vista. I kept thanking my lucky stars that we were part of the The Devil’s Ridge Ultra 60k race. What an amazing landscape – and what a way to see it!
The first 16-17 kilometers were all in these wonderful Danxia hills. The flat bits below the pyramids were perfectly runnable and we’d build up to a high speed. But the climbs were sudden and steep, dropping us into a hiking pace. And the descents were gnarly: incredibly technical, steep, and at times even trecherous – yet somehow still a lot of fun!
We zipped past the first aid station at 6.5k, making sure the volunteers had our numbers but needing nothing. We did stop very briefly at the second checkpoint at 14k to refill bottles and eat bananas. I was chomping at the bit as Kent downed an energy drink.
In those early kilometers, we’d met and run with quite a few people. But shortly after CP2, we emerged from a canyon. Where the 25k runners turned left, we headed out across an open plain on our own. We were running straight towards the towering mountains on the horizon!
While the race definitely spread out more through this middle section, the flat, even terrain made for excellent running. We sped up to find a few familiar faces, including the friendly race director we’d met the previous day!
It was thrilling to run so fast – and towards the big challenge that lay ahead in the shape of a wall of rock. I felt slightly breathless: maybe from excitement, maybe altitude, maybe because of the dust swirling around us. The high winds whipping across this southern stretch of Gobi Desert carried with them a lot of sand. This veritable dust storm obscured the mountain tops and blurred the horizons.
But it also provided some cover for a pee stop. I’d had to go for ages, but with no bushes or undulations to hide behind, I had to take my chances out in the open.
So I opted for the stand-up method that I’ve seen my running heroes embrace. But if I thought I could nail it on my second try, I was sorely mistaken. Much like my soaking at Bogdkhan, I simply went straight down my left leg. And, having hydrated so well to start the race, I kid you not, I even filled up my shoe.
My enduring husband was there to witness this unfortunate spectacle. But unlike at Bogdkhan, I was unperturbed. I was peeing, so I knew I was doing alright with liquids. Although there was no camouflaging rain, the dry desert air was sure to wick away the moisture in no time. And, I knew things could be much worse. (I did briefly consider dubbing this race report ‘The Princess and the Pee’. Don’t you love how, in the trail and ultra community, it is perfectly acceptable to discuss the bodily fluids and the state of one’s digestive system?)
Leaving behind a large puddle and a trail of left footprints, we resumed our run.
Gradually, we began to ascend. It was so slight that at first the incline had me shaking my head at my slowed speed. I’d been leading us strongly and I felt like now was no time to be sluggish. But my pace was definitely dropping – and I felt the effort in straining muscles, an increased heart rate and rapid breathing.
It was the perfect time for her to catch me. The first female I’d seen so far was clad in all-black and running at almost exactly my pace. When she pulled up beside me, I called out a greeting. When she passed me without responding and then slowed down, something deep inside me released a little extra energy.
I surged ahead, running off of the dusty single-track alongside a wire fence. I passed this runner again by running through a gravelly patch dotted with prickly plants. Firmly in the lead again, I pushed myself harder – and so did she.
Together, we ran past another female runner and a few males who also seemed to be feeling the beginning of the ascent. It was a nice little competition over a couple of kilometers. But when the grade increased a few notches, she ran ahead and I let her go. We were not quite halfway, and I would need to save something for the monster climb ahead. Also, I laughed to myself, who was I kidding with this sudden competitive streak?
Kent observed this whole thing from behind and teased me about it tremendously later on.
Section 2: Ascent
On a plateau just below the massive mountains, I stopped at the third checkpoint of The Devil’s Ridge Ultra. I emptied my pockets of trash, grabbed a few bananas and cheered Kent in. Feeling slightly dizzy, he was eager for a brief sit in the shade of the tent.
A couple of minutes later, we were underway again, ready to tackle the biggest climb and longest section of the race.
It started slowly. It was too steep and tricky for me to run, but I established a strong hike. I broke out the poles, and felt my whole body engage. We snaked through long grasses filling deep, branching valleys.
And then it was suddenly steep. Nearly vertical. No visible trail, but a line of blue flags extending up almost to infinity. And a line of teeny tiny runners on all fours, following them.
I knew this was coming, but I still gasped. It was as steep as some of our hairiest scrambles ever, many of which caused us to vow never again to tread such treacherous terrain.
But up was the only way to go, so up we went. I was at the head of a small pack of people, and I felt more than a little responsible for finding us the best way. It was slow going. Progress meant sometimes strafing sideways to keep the course marking in view.
After what felt like an age of clinging to my poles and trying not to look down, we reached a small crest. Other racers whooped and hollered. I took a deep breath of relief, before I too, embraced the giddy delight of being somewhere so nearly inaccessible.
Aside from marveling at the awesome scenery, it was another chance to admire what my fellow competitors were capable of. The woman in white I’d met on the plateau was charging uphill on all fours at several times the pace I’d managed. I applauded her efforts as she surged ahead.
Joined by Kent on the actual Devil’s Ridge, we both felt a little dizzy and breathless. It was the perfect time for a snack and lots of photos. For a while we ran with a duo in red and yellow, all four of us stopping every few steps to gaze in awe at our surroundings.
There was, truly, some running up there. We were now on a thin but obvious trail on the ridge. Each downhill we’d take at a breezy, easy pace, then tuck into every tough uphill.
And there were plenty of undulations still to go. The scrambling was behind us, but the top was still miles ahead. I felt amazed by how far we’d come and how far we had yet to go. It felt like we were on top of the world!
We were not alone on the tops. One of the many amazing features of this race was just how many volunteers and photographers it had stationed along the route – even here in the hinterlands! It was fun to put on a turn of speed for the cameras!
Although we’d initially bunched up on top, the field of runners now spread out again. We spent a long time hiking on our own. There wasn’t much talking as we concentrated hard on moving our heavy limbs and breathing enough air. ‘So this is what it feels like to run at 3000 meters,’ Kent said memorably at one point. This was by far the highest we’ve ever run!
Ahead, on one rounded hilltop, I spotted a cairn. Was that the peak? It must be, my mind insisted excitedly! We hurried towards it.
It turned out to be just one of many summits – though it was the only one marked in this way. It was just perfect for pictures!
Carrying on, the thin air continued to affect me. Although I pushed forward relentlessly, I felt like I was swimming. My limbs felt surrounded by a viscous liquid that resisted every step. And my mind! I felt completely dumb, unable to say anything clever or adequate about the scenery. The concentration required to stay upright on the narrow, slippery trails of scree was exhausting. I yearned for a bit of a break; to do something easier for a while.
The Devil’s Ridge Ultra definitely got harder before it got easier. The blue flags and ribbons we were following led up some rocky scrambles. We followed them religiously, even when we saw some runners taking shortcuts on lower byways.
On one sideways traverse, Kent slipped! I heard a scrabbling sound and looked behind me. There he was, sitting down in the shape of a capital L a meter or two below the trail. He’d dug in with his poles and his heels to save himself from sliding away the 1500 meters to the valley floor far below. As he got to his feet, I ran to him: the most precious part of my life.
When we got to the actual summit, it was with little fanfare. A couple of volunteers helped us across a particularly sketchy scree scramble. A Frenchman we’d run with on and off across the Devil’s Ridge was seated on the peak and gestured to the trail. “All downhill from here,” he informed us.
Sluggish with altitude, I raised a fist and kept moving. I knew as we descended the air fill up my lungs again and we’d be able to move faster. For now, I wanted to use gravity to our advantage and carefully fall downhill.
Section 3: Pick up the pace
Alas, the very beginning was so steep that we did not improve on our speed at all. We struggled over a few boulders and gingerly picked our way down rocky ravines. A couple of daredevils (including a woman!) flashed past.
Even going slowly, we still stumbled! Kent tripped and his subsequent lightheadedness required a brief sit beside the trail. Almost as soon as we were in motion again, it was my turn to tumble and bloody my knees.
The fourth checkpoint remained a long way off. But we got our feet beneath us again, and got moving. The gully flattened out into a broader valley, and eventually we reached the dual tracks of a dirt road.
After a few twists and turns below the majestic peaks of the Qilian mountain range, we found the aid station. To us, it was as luxurious as a fine restaurant. Seated on a pair of stools, we tucked into a buffet of fruit and gels.
From there, we revved our engines and got back to work. There was a long, long way to go yet.
But running fast has a way of making the kilometers tick by easily. Awed by the scenery, I felt renewed by this fresh perspective on the mountains we’d just run over. The thicker air felt good to inhale, and my legs eventually stopped feeling like lead.
The gravel road made for the simplest running of the race. So we continued to pick up the pace until we were running our top speed of the race!
When a woman caught up to us at the fifth aid station, where I was shaking the rocks from my shoe, I raced out even faster. Why not? Kent was blazing too, sometimes in front, sometimes behind and sometimes even beside on this quiet road!
I also felt motivated by the drone that joined us for several kilometers! I vowed to show it my best, most consistent form. It kept me honest as the road undulated, and sped us closer to the finish.
We caught up to a guy with a stuffed zebra toy – because we always find our fellow animal people! He joined us and I had the distinct impression that we made a modern day caravan: running in single file with our packs of water, kicking up red clouds of dust.
Emerging from the long shadows of the high mountains, we set off across the plains towards the Danxia landforms. Earth was silent: no planes overhead, no highway noise, no rustling of bushes or calling of birds. It was only us and our muffled footsteps through the sand.
It was Kent’s turn to pee, and he did so at the side of the road – far more gracefully than I had hours earlier. We sipped some sports drinks at the last lonely support point. The finish line was maybe visible below: a strange smudge on the barren plain.
Time and space felt stretched in this strange landscape. How far away was The Devil’s Ridge Ultra finish arch? The sun had dipped low into the haze above the horizon. Its fading glow was red and without heat. I took off my cap.
It wasn’t easy to run fast in the final kilometers. My mind and body weren’t sore – only tired. I had to ignore everything they whispered to me about resting. After hours of breathing in the thin, dusty air, I now struggled to catch my breath. I imagined what it would feel like when I eventually could stop running – and ran some more.
We completed The Devil’s Ridge Ultra 60k in 10 hours and 50 minutes. AC/DC blared from the speakers and I ran around, posing for the cameras with my tongue out and high-fiving our fellow finishers. It was a wonderful end to a wonderful race!
(After a few minutes, my energy fizzled out like a birthday sparkler. I had to go lay down in one of the tents nearby and catch my breath. I continued to cheer for new finishers – just now quietly, and from a supine position. Another race where I left it all out there on the course!)
We were numbers 50 and 51 out of a field of 103 eventual finishers – right in the middle. But we had climbed to such great heights and accomplished such great things in this race. I loved every red moment of this desert race!
The following day was spend sleeping in, taking a leisurely Sunday stroll through pretty Yumen, then starting our multi-leg journey back home.
Lessons Learned
Someone asked us whether or not we had trained for The Devil’s Ridge Ultra. We immediately responded that we, of course, had. But while we certainly did train in comparison to someone who hadn’t been focused on running, we did not in fact train specifically for the conditions of this race.
Running a lot of races definitely helps for the miles on our legs and mental toughness. But altitude is no joke! While I think the heat training that we’ve been doing for all of this summer’s races kept us moving, there’s perhaps no substitute for the real thing. That thin air goes in and out of your lungs without providing enough oxygen and turns your muscles to stone.
That said, I was honestly delighted by how we fared. This was – by more than a thousand meters – the highest we’ve ever been on any run or race before. We did not stop, we did not sit and we did not suffer. Struggle, yes, but suffer – not a chance, with this scenery!
The physical preparation was in the countless kilometers we ran in training and in races (and our sauna dates!). The mental preparation involved watching the lone video we could find about the race (thanks Billy!) and planning our approach.
Based on what we knew of the terrain, we broke this race up into thirds. There was the first part: the undulating ridges of the Danxia, followed by a flat stretch – which we planned to run fast while the air was cool and the going was easy. The middle section featured a climb of over 1500 meters, so we knew we’d be hiking and planned to use poles for help. For the last part, we had a long descent, mainly on dirt roads, where we’d want to pick up the pace again.
This strategy worked out really well! It broke this tough race into manageable chunks, which all required different tactics.
As always, I feel like a good deal of luck was involved in our success at The Devil’s Ridge Ultra. All our flights were on time, so we (and our gear!) made it to this remote place on time. The weather was neither brutally hot (as in previous years) nor was it rainy (as was predicted), giving us great trail conditions. Even a pretty bad mistake that I made fortunately worked out: I forgot two of our crucial snacks – but that encouraged us to eat more fruit and try the yummy new gels on offer at aid stations!
And of course, we didn’t do The Devil’s Ridge Ultra 60k alone. We met a ton of cool people out on the trails: this was actually one of the most friendly races we’ve done! Lots of people chatted with us and we posed for several selfies. I feel like we left with a dozen new friends – and leads on more rad races in China!
And most impressive of all was the great race team. There were tons of volunteers on the course, multiple doctors and a host of photographers/videographers. This made a remote and rugged race feel really safe, and I was delighted by how well-documented our experience was going to be.
And then there’s the fact that the organizers hooked me up with a free entry! This was the first time that has happened here on Peaks and Penguins – and it felt like a milestone.
It went down like this: I told them about my mission and asked them if I could join and write about The Devil’s Ridge Ultra. And they said yes, that they love what I’m doing(!) and made a special sign-up coupon just for me! So very cool. The lesson here might be to ask for what you want, because you never know when the answer might be yes!
It was in fact, a race of firsts: first free race entry, first single climb over 1000 meters, first run above 2000 meters, first negative split (one of Kent’s big goals – and we did it!), and our first race in mainland China. It was also just our second ever desert race and our first time in the Gobi!
I hope we get a chance to go back.
Want to put The Devil’s Ridge Ultra on your bucket list? You definitely should! Set out on your own adventure during next year’s edition.