The Baltic Sea island of Bornholm between Denmark and Sweden is a vacation paradise – and home to what is probably the toughest trail run in the country – the Hammer Trail Bornholm. The highlight distance features 82 picturesque and quite technical kilometers with over 3,000 meters of elevation gain. We were there for the 15th anniversary.
The storm has subsided, the roads are almost dry and it is quiet as I steer my rental bike onto the deserted Strandvejen in Allinge at 3:45 am. First the Baltic Sea to my right, then Hammersø – the lake by the ruins of Hammershus Castle. It’s a strange feeling to be riding a rental bike to a top-class trail run in Denmark in the middle of the night. Three running laps plus prologue await me. It is the longest of the five distances that can be run on the Hammer Trail Bornholm. A race that lives up to its name and reputation: no chichi, no bullshit, just warmth and a focus on beautiful routes.
After a 5-minute race briefing, the countdown starts at 4:35 and the few early risers start their extra lap around the lake. Then we’re on the regular course and the first grenades are already well ahead. My focus today is on intelligent pacing, so that I can fire out a bit more on lap three.
Always along the sea
We run on a narrow path by the sea, cross heathland and see the castle ruins at dusk. Before we climb it, however, we descend a brutally steep scree slope to the sea, balance on a hand-width ledge and then climb almost horizontally again. After an easy path through fields of wild garlic, the next surprise awaits: an almost vertical descent down the cliff. Muddy, with a tree to hold on to every few meters. The first runners land on the seat of their pants. The groups divides, before the trail heads down over a blocky field of surf rocks.
After the next beautiful singletrail full of ups and downs comes Jons Kapel. A local sight to which you descend 170 steps down to the surf – to ring a bell and climb back up. What is strenuous in round one becomes tedious in round two and a muscle-shredder in round three. The return to the Hammershus ruins makes up for it – through beautiful flower groves, more single trails and past the Pissebækken waterfall, which we passed on the way there. And yes: the waterfall really is called that.
Through applause and high feelings
Back at the start-finish area, I am greeted by goosebumps of the finest kind: I run from the back towards the finish arch, where everyone is ready for the start of the 52-kilometer course. The race briefing is over, the countdown is on. They form a trellis, the first person starts clapping and seconds later I’m running through an applauding corridor. Wow.
Totally blown away, I start the second part of the first round. Up into the quarry area at Hammersø. It never goes far up, but here we climb, gaining altitude meter after altitude meter, and suddenly find ourselves running through sand to the sea again. Fortunately, the route is well marked, because my Garmin watch has frozen since the VP. Nothing works anymore. Thanks for nothing. At some point during the run, I manage to reset the watch and can use the navigation again. The subsequent evaluation is ruined – but what’s much worse is that I no longer have a race time. Because the plan is to stay under 12:30. Because then I get a belt buckle. Whether you need it is a question that doesn’t arise.
I run the second lap alone almost everywhere. Surprisingly, with five distances, two of which are even hiked. I reel them off, keep my energy together, make mental markers for lap three and get through surprisingly well. I’ve now covered over 50 kilometers and 2,000 metres in altitude.
The reward for our efforts
I’m only one kilometer into round three, when the 17 kilometers start. The first runners reach me before the ruins and gazelle confidently down the steep slope in front of the ruins. I don’t want to put my tired muscles through this – the rocks are the finest ankle-breaking material. As we immediately climb up, a few particularly motivated people try to climb past. The most daring slide back several meters, the others simply stay on the same level. There’s simply no time to spare here.
Things get really fun on the slippery downhill a few kilometers further on. While the reaction of the more experienced trail runners was „Wow, challenge accepted“, many of the 17km runners are apparently facing a downhill like this for the first time. The reactions range from freezing up to sliding downhill on their behinds to sliding downhill on their fronts. What a beautiful picture before I hop over the large surf rocks at the bottom for the third time, run through pebbly sand, descend to Jon’s chapel, ring the bell for the last time and greet the nice refreshment man for the last time.
As planned, the motto for the final lap is „no holding back“. After the downhill scramble, I run deep into the 17km group – which is also part of the Golden Trail Series this year. I unintentionally pace several groups of this distance, who don’t seem to have reckoned with the technical demands and the constant ups and downs. Unfortunately, this is also noticeable in their running skills. Someone falls in front of me, someone falls behind me, then a runner lies on the ground sobbing and holding her foot. Fortunately, these remain exceptions on this wonderful run, which presents the wild island from its most beautiful side.
At some point, the last loop finally reaches the finish line. Fortunately, because after a long day full of sun, wind and light clouds, a stiff wind is now blowing in fog from the sea. With a buffer of 93 minutes, I not only receive the finisher’s medal, but also the belt buckle I was hoping for, as well as 3rd place in the age group and 12th place overall.
There is a folk festival feeling at the finish. There’s a long queue at the beer stand, but it’s longer at the barbecue stand. People continue to run, walk and stagger through the finish arch for hours, immediately or at least soon manage a blissful smile and queue up for beer and BBQ. At some point, I get on my rental bike and ride back over a few of the countless hills on this beautiful island. Again and again I pass places that I had just crossed running. Three times in fact.
Rain pours down on the island during the night. The island is flooded the whole next day. No, I wouldn’t have wanted to do the laps in such rain. Too long, too repetitive, too cold – and too dangerous with all the rocks. But the way it was: a dream. A dream with an absolute must-do recommendation. And if you’re already here, you should stay a little longer. It’s worth it.
Impressions from Hammer Trail Bornholm 2024:
