November 8, 2026 · 9 min

The last runner off Larch Pass, and the hut that waited for her

Ninety runners, one hut and a stove that stayed lit until the last of them was in. The final finisher came off the pass after dark in a borrowed jacket, laughing. Nobody had gone to bed. The volunteers had kept the soup hot for eleven hours, and I stayed up to ask them why. This week I tell the story of the back of the field, the people who spend the longest on the same course, and make the case that the best part of a mountain race is the part nobody films. Plus: your letters about hut etiquette, a short note on wool socks, and the wrong turn I still can’t explain.