27 months

Yesterday the Mount Cameroon Race of Hope was held here in Buea, an event braved by runners every February fourteen times since 1973. This was the third race I’ve witnessed since living in Cameroon. The mountain race is an incredible display of human will and endurance that attracts participants and spectators from all over the world, though the vast majority of runners are Cameroonians.

Few people have ever heard of it. It’s often called the most grueling footrace in Africa—maybe the entire world, and for good reason. The race covers a marathon distance of 26 miles, but with one big difference. The course ascends Mt. Cameroon, an active volcano, to its 13,435 ft (4090m) summit and back to the Molyko sports stadium. Over the course of the route, runners cover 20,000 vertical feet round-trip. The top runners finish in just over four hours.

Let those figures sink in for a moment.

Nearly half of the runners quit the race before reaching the summit, pushed beyond their limits by altitude sickness, extreme temperature changes, rough terrain, injuries and exhaustion. Ambulances, stretchers and emergency caregivers are staged along the lower portions of the route, with a recovery tent for the finishers at the stadium. Injuries are common and fatalities have occurred in the past. It’s not unusual to see racers on the return leg in the streets of Buea covered in black volcanic grit from falls, some staggering with bloodied shins, knees and hands.

It’s brutal bordering on sadistic, unbelievably punishing and makes a marathon anyplace else on earth look like a Sunday stroll in the park. The event is said to embody the essence of the African running phenomenon. Although I have yet to see it, the award-winning film Volcanic Spirit is regarded to be the most inspiring and authentic documentary of the race and its competitors. I narrowly missed seeing the film screened in Buea and meeting the director, Steve Dorst, last year. Here’s the trailer for the film, by Dorst MediaWorks:

Additional photos of this remarkable sporting event are up on Steve Dorst’s Picasa album.

For the victors, it’s more than an opportunity to earn the status of national hero. The prize winnings for the top finishers amount to more than what the average Cameroonian earns in four years. This year, the overall winner collected 5 million cfa (about $10,000), up from 3 million cfa in 2008. Legendary five-time champion, Buea resident and mother of seven Sarah Etonge (aka the “Queen of the Mountain”) is a celebrity on par with, or greater than, multiple Olympic gold medal winners in other countries.

You won’t see racers relying on CamelBaks, heart rate monitors, digital watches, or even what many would consider proper footwear. Most Cameroonians (the Mountain Queen herself included) prefer to run in PVC plastic jelly shoes that are purchased in the local market for less than $5. A secondhand pair of wool socks and a stick (for some) to control their breakneck descent rounds out the list of technical gear.

Just for fun, I once ran in a pair of jellies to Hut 2 and back. The traditional footwear of champions left the soles of my feet aching for a week.

As in years past, my participation was limited to watching the spectacle from a vantage point ideally located a few dozen meters from my front door. Most of the spectators, myself and my fellow expat pals included, were oblivious to the drama taking place far out of view up on the mountain.

This year, we arranged chairs at Tuborg junction, just below the start of the trail up the peak. We were an international group of Irishmen, Americans, Brits, Germans, Spaniards, Italians and Cameroonians. With a steady flow of “mortuary cold” beer delivered by the crate to us via taxi, we stayed and applauded every last runner until late in the afternoon.