High Coast Ultra 129km // Especially Ultra

Pre-Race Buzz and Midnight Start at Örnsköldsvik Square

Drop bag sorting at the sports hall — Pre-race prep and bib pick-up in the Örnsköldsvik sports hall: packing drop bags with fuel, spare socks, and headlights for 129 km along the High Coast Trail.

Running crew ready for the start — Fired-up crew ahead of the midnight gun: Mattias, Mikael, Michael, and Jonas ready for action.

Ornskoldsvik town square start — The starting line on Örnsköldsvik town square: 85 runners gathered in the midnight twilight for the 129 km distance.

The gun sounded in Örnsköldsvik's town square at midnight sharp heading into Saturday, with 85 eager starters in the 129 km class. Despite the midnight hour, the Swedish midsummer sky was luminous, so I left my headlamp tucked in the pack. A few hundred meters of cobblestone and pavement quickly gave way to a gravel climb. The first 10k were punchy and rolling, weaving through illuminated fitness loops and singletrack. Once under the dark canopy of the forest, I tripped over a hidden rock and landed flat on my back, but scrambled right up without damage.

I tucked in behind Johanna, Erik, and Mikael (who would eventually cross as the top three overall). In hindsight, burning matches to stick with them early on was a massive tactical error, given my short build-up. Ever since TEC 2016, nagging injuries had disrupted my training rhythm until two months prior, when I finally pieced together a solid block interrupted by just one sick week.

Rolling trail in dawn light — The opening 10 kilometers through rolling pine forests south of Örnsköldsvik.

Morning light through pines — Morning light breaking through the pine canopy as dawn washes over the High Coast.

From Crisis to Revival: Köpmanholmen and Skuleskogen

Just past the 10 km mark, the engine sputtered out completely. My legs felt like concrete logs and the desire to race vanished into thin air. I backed off the pace, letting trailing runners stream past. Convinced I was sitting in fifth, I recalibrated around my three original race priorities:

Finish with zero new injuries!
Complete the distance to secure my qualifier points for UTMB next season.
If #1 and #2 are secure, push for a strong finishing time and podium.

View over archipelago and Bothnian Sea — Dawn over the Bothnian Sea: shimmering coastal islands injecting fresh energy after a dark early slump approaching Köpmanholmen.

For the next hour, self-pity ran wild: how on earth am I going to survive another 120 kilometers? I linked up with Dennis, who was rolling at a sensible tempo. Having company to converse with pulled me right out of my mental swamp. We ran together into Köpmanholmen (30 km), the first major aid station. Stepping out of the checkpoint, the fog cleared instantly. My head cleared, my vision sharpened, and energy returned to my legs. I kept the pace disciplined—there was still an ocean of trail ahead.

Granite bedrock and pine trail — Iconic High Coast bedrock, stunted windblown pines, and classic blue trail markers heading toward Skuleskogen National Park.

Entering Skuleskogen National Park, Dennis drifted back to take on calories, so I pressed forward solo. Glancing behind, a chase pack of three runners was closing in. I thrive on being hunted; it kicked my competitive engine into gear. Reaching the mouth of Slåttdalsskrevan, I paused to pull out my phone for a quick photo.

The Hunt Through Slåttdalsskrevan

Entrance to Slattdalsskrevan — The entrance to Slåttdalsskrevan—a 200-meter-long, 30-meter-deep vertical chasm blasted through granite.

Vertical red granite walls — Vertical walls of red Nordingrå granite towering above in the quiet morning light.

Jonas taking photos in the chasm — A quick photo op deep in the canyon—moments before echoing voices broke the silence from behind.

Just as I snapped the shot, voices echoed off the canyon walls: the chase trio had entered the chasm! I shoved the phone away and took off sprinting through the boulder-strewn gorge. From that moment on, whenever the trail opened up with a clear sightline behind, the three hunters were right there.

Wedged boulder in Slattdalsskrevan — The dramatic boulder wedged tightly between the sheer canyon walls of Slåttdalsskrevan.

Skuleberget and the Heat of Nordingrå: Chasing the Podium

I crested Skuleberget (54 km) where I crossed paths with friends Daniel and Micke, who had unfortunately both dropped out. Hearing their cheers gave me an emotional surge. I restocked from my drop bag and launched down the trail just as the trio rolled in. I surged hard to snap the elastic. My legs felt lighter with every kilometer, and within an hour, the trio had vanished from sight.

Skuleberget summit view — Skuleberget (295 m)—the race high point delivering sweeping views across the UNESCO World Heritage coastline.

By 9 AM, the sun was blazing. I was running in total no-man's-land: no one ahead, no one behind. Hitting the ski lodge at Nordingrå (84 km), rapid footsteps approached from behind: one of the three chasers had broken away and reeled me in. The volunteers told us four runners were ahead, having departed 45 minutes earlier. I refueled casually and told my pursuer that since we were outside podium contention, I would take it steady and we could jog together.

Leaving the station, mental gears turned: if four are ahead and one of them is Johanna leading the entire race, that means only two men are ahead of me! I am sitting in 3rd place in the men's race! Priority #3 roared to life: the podium was on the line! Under the scorching sun, across rolling gravel roads, I pressed the pace hard. At the next water stop, the splits confirmed it: Johanna was crushing the overall lead, two men were ahead, and I was holding third. At Fjärdbotten (109 km), volunteers assured me that my pursuer had collapsed on a lawn two checkpoints back (~10 km behind). What a relief! Time to shift back into smooth cruising mode.

Solo into the Distance: The High Coast Bridge in Sight

Back in no-man's land (45 minutes to the next runner ahead, 45 minutes back to the trailing runner), I hit Lövvik with 10 km to go when the iconic suspension towers of the High Coast Bridge rose on the horizon. Mental fatigue set in; minutes dragged like hours. I alternated steady running with power-hiking, gritting my teeth through the rolling asphalt until the final climb up toward Hotell Höga Kusten. Seeing the finish arch, I kicked into a proper finishing sprint up the steep driveway.

View towards the High Coast Bridge — The view that restores the spirit: the High Coast Bridge stretching over the Ångermanälven river during the final push.

Jonas running final meters to Hotell Hoga Kusten — The final meters ascending toward Hotell Höga Kusten—after 129 kilometers and +4,200 meters of vert, the line is finally in sight.

Podium Celebration and a Ticket to UTMB

Crossing the timing mat having checked off all three pre-race goals was pure bliss. Savoring a podium finish after a year plagued by injury felt like sweet redemption. It proved to myself that I was fully back in the ultra game.

Jonas at the finish with bib 45 and poles — Across the line with bib #45 and poles intact: exhausted, deeply relieved, and thrilled with the execution.

Stopping GPS watch with running friends — Stopping the watch and reliving the journey with running buddies at the finish.

Jonas proud at the High Coast Ultra banner — 3rd Male in High Coast Ultra 129km! 129 kilometers of grit along the Baltic coastline rewarded with a podium spot and a confirmed UTMB entry.