Stage 2 of MDS 120 Peru asked for grit, not the kind you feel in your teeth after miles of soft sand, but the kind that keeps you moving when your legs and head start to argue with each other.
The day opened under a blanket of cloud and a bite of early chill. Soon enough the sky broke open, the sun pushed through, and the landscape shifted again.
Runners climbed hard from the start, working through rolling terrain that rose and fell like waves before the coastline even appeared. The sand stayed soft and stubborn, forcing every step to count.
What the course took in effort, it paid back in views. Wide open desert. Long lines of dunes. Light bouncing off ridges and carving shadows that stretched for kilometres.
Each distance had its battles, but they shared one reward.
The final approach dropped into Paracas National Reserve, where the South Pacific came into full view.
The coastline set the stage for the last push, a reminder of why runners sign up for days like this.
Stage 2 was tough. It was also unforgettable. The kind of day that reminds you you’re capable of more than you think when the terrain and the moment rise together. Tomorrow, a rest day…
The end is in sight. After five brutal, beautiful days in the high Himalayas, Stage 6 of the 2025 Everest Trail Race delivers the final blow and the final reward. It’s 28.5 kilometres fo Lukla, a day marked by more descent than ascent: 2612 meters down, 1578 meters up, and every single step earned.
An early start, the arrival of the sun and soon, the heat will come – not only in the sky but with the bodies of each participant.
The day kicks off with iconic trails that weave from Stupa to Stupa to Namche Bazaar, the buzzing Sherpa hub perched on the mountainside like a fortress.
The backdrop behind, stunning, but the participants don’t get a chance to see it…
Namche brings checkpoint 1, it’s welcome, the early kilometres had worked the body hard with a steep descent, followed by a gentle climb and then an ‘easy’ run to the refreshment.
The early kilometers retrace some familiar ground – Sanasa, Phunki Tenga, and trails edged with mani stones and prayer flags, twisting through pine forests and clinging to cliffs. But don’t call it a repeat. The fatigue, the altitude, and the stakes make every step feel different.
This stage is less about vertical brutality and more about holding form, keeping control as the trail drops fast and hard. Quads burn, knees scream, but momentum is everything.
Soon, the trail funnels runners toward the legendary new Hillary Bridge – a sweeping, high-tension crossing that swings over the Dudh Kosi with views that could stop you in your tracks, if the clock wasn’t ticking.
Past the bridge, it’s Jorsale, where the race starts to feel like it’s dragging runners home. The Phakding checkpoint (CP2) marks another milestone, each bib scanned there is one step closer to Everest Trail Race glory.
By the time runners hit Cheplung, it’s all on the table. Here, a sharp left turn signals the endgame: the final climb to Lukla and oce again, Nepal and the Porters remind us, how lucky we are!
It’s not long, but it bites. After the day’s long descent, this uphill kick demands whatever strength is left in the tank. Runners grit teeth, dig deep, and push toward the town that marks the start of most Everest dreams, and now, the finish of this one.
Crossing into Lukla is like breaking through into another world. Crowds, bells, cheers, and tears—this is where it all ends. For some, it’s a triumphant sprint. For others, a silent, emotional walk over the line. But for everyone, it’s the culmination of six days of relentless racing through some of the world’s toughest terrain.
The 2025 Everest Trail Race is done, everyone earned more than a medal, they earned the mountain’s respect.
Stage 5 of the Everest Trail Race pulls no punches. At 24km with a punishing 2,483 meters of ascent, this is the stage that earns its reputation as the toughest of them all. The numbers alone are intimidating, but it’s the relentless terrain and shifting altitude that test runners on every level – physical, mental, emotional.
This year’s route sees a change from previous editions, adding new layers of challenge and beauty. Starting in the shadow of Sagarmatha National Park’s giants, the trail weaves through the quiet village of Chumoa before rising into the bustling trails of Namche Bazaar, where the first checkpoint offers a brief reprieve. But this is only the beginning.
From Namche, the course climbs to Syangboche, skirting airstrips and yak paths, before pressing on to Kumjung, a Sherpa village set high beneath the peaks. Then comes Mong La – Checkpoint 2 – perched like a balcony above the valleys below. From there, it’s a steep descent to Phortse Tenga, followed by a lung-busting climb to Phortse, a village known for its mountaineering legacy.
But the final ascent is where Stage 5 seals its legacy. The climb to Tyangboche Monastery, sitting at 3,860m, is a final test of grit. Legs scream, lungs burn, but the reward is immense. As runners crest the trail, they’re greeted by one of the world’s most iconic alpine views: Ama Dablam, Everest, Nuptse, and a horizon lined with Himalayan giants. Arguably, one of THE greatest finish lines in the world.
The pain is real, but so is the pride. After this brutal day, there’s relief in knowing only one stage remains. For those who made it to Tyangboche, it’s not just another finish line – it’s a summit of spirit, dedication, tenacity and perseverance.
After three gruelling stages through remote and rugged terrain, Stage 4 of the Everest Trail Race turns the page. Today, the athletes trade solitude for the storied footpaths of Nepal’s most iconic trekking corridor. This is the gateway to Everest.
A warmer night, lower altitude and this morning, the runner’s may have felt a little more rested, however, stage 4 was intimidating.
Covering 27.36 kilometers with 2,170 meters of elevation gain, Stage 4 is no break in the action. It’s a demanding route with steep climbs, quad-burning descents, and a new cast of characters on the trail: trekkers, porters, yaks, and teahouses buzzing with the hum of expedition life.
From the gun, it’s all uphill. The stage opens with a brutal 1,000-meter climb in just over 6 kilometres. The goal? Kari La, perched at 3,080 meters. This is the kind of climb that shows no mercy. Legs burn, lungs strain, and the views remind runners they’re racing through giants.
Checkpoint 1 at Paia arrives as a welcome relief. It’s a place to regroup, rehydrate, and reset. But the descent to Surke at 2,750 meters is no victory lap. Fast, technical, and relentless, it punishes tired legs before the next climb begins.
From Surke, runners face another grind: the climb to Chaurikharka (Checkpoint 2) at 2,621 meters. It’s lower in altitude but still a fight, especially coming late in the stage. From there, the course becomes unpredictable: a rollercoaster of ups and downs, testing whatever reserves are left.
The final push into Phakding at 2,620 meters marks more than the end of the stage. It’s a symbolic arrival.
The runners are now on sacred ground, part of the ancient route to Everest Base Camp. The trails are busier, the lodges more frequent, and the landscape unmistakably Himalayan.
Stage 4 isn’t just a physical battle, it’s a transition. The isolation of the early stages gives way to the buzz of one of the world’s most legendary trekking routes. But don’t let the crowds fool you. With over 2,000 meters of climbing and the fatigue of three hard days behind them, today was a war of attrition.
The finish line at Phakding means rest, food, and maybe even a little comfort, tents are traded for a lodge. Everest still looms. And the toughest stage lies ahead – stage 5 the ultimate test.
Stage 3 of the Everest Trail Race is where the real punishment begins. With 28.3 kilometres of unrelenting terrain and a leg-wrecking descent from the high-altitude village of Kamo (3855m) down to the valley floor at Jubing (1600m), this stage isn’t just tough, it’s a full-body assault.
Runners start high, where the air is thin and every step feels like a negotiation with your lungs. The early climb up to Checkpoint 1 at Kamo is already a grind, but what follows is what defines this stage: a relentless plunge that feels like it goes on forever.
The descent from Kamo to Jubing is not gentle. It’s steep, technical, and unforgiving. The views are spectacular, sure, but most runners will be too focused on staying upright to take much of it in. The drop of over 2200 meters smashes quads and shreds knees. Every rock, step, and switchback becomes part of the battle. If the climbs test your endurance, the downhills here test your durability.
Fortunately, the support is solid. CP1 at Kamo, CP2 at Hewa, and CP3 at Jubing are well-stocked and strategically placed. Runners have every opportunity to refuel and regroup, though few will find much comfort in the knowledge that the real sting comes right at the end.
Just when you think you’ve done enough, the trail throws in a final climb up to the iconic village of Kharikola. It’s a steep, grinding ascent that comes after hours of muscular destruction.
This is where mental strength counts just as much as physical preparation. After hammering down thousands of vertical meters, your legs are begging for mercy, and yet, up you go again.
Kharikola, perched proudly in the hills, is a reward in itself. Not just for the views, but for what it represents: survival. Conquering Stage 3 is a badge of toughness. It’s where the Everest Trail Race shakes out the pretenders from the contenders.
Stage 3 doesn’t just test you, you feel it in your legs for days. You carry it in your mind for longer. It’s beautiful, brutal, and unforgettable. And for every runner who arrives in Kharikola, it’s a hard-earned victory etched into the heart of the Himalayas.
Stage 2 of the Everest Trail Race doesn’t waste time. The gun goes off, and it hits hard, right into a beast of a climb that defines the day. The route is 26.6 kilometers with 1,483 meters of vertical gain, but ask anyone who ran it: it feels like double that.
The stage opens with arguably the most iconic stretch of the entire race, a 4km climb straight out of the start gate, topping out at the summit of Pike Peak at 4,046 meters. There’s no easing into it. You’re immediately lunging skyward, legs burning, lungs gasping, every step on loose rock and narrow trail.
But what a reward. The views from Pike Peak are the kind you earn. Everest, Thamserku, and the distant giants of the Himalayas tower on the horizon.
There’s a strange serenity up there—above the tree line, above the chaos, if only your quads weren’t screaming so loudly.
From the summit, runners are thrown into a tricky descent, technical, steep, and demanding full attention. This is no cruise; it’s controlled aggression. The terrain underfoot is a mix of loose stone and rutted trail, constantly shifting. Jase Bhanjyang appears below like a mirage, a short-lived reprieve at 3,510m before the next test.
After a quick breath, it’s back uphill, another climb, this time to 3,800m. It’s less brutal than the first, but by now the fatigue is setting in. The altitude, the sun, the effort, they add up. This section wears on you slowly, sapping strength before delivering a massive release:
This is the stage’s exhale. A long, fast descent winds down to Jumbesi, where Checkpoint 2 awaits. The descent is runnable FOR SOME but relentless. It’s a test of patience, footwork, and knowing how much to push without blowing up. At CP2, some collapse into chairs, others refuel and move quickly, no time to waste.
From Jumbesi, the route shifts gears. A more gradual climb takes runners to Phurteng at 3,000m, a steady push that gnaws at tired legs. Then, a rolling descent gives a hint of relief, but it’s a trap.
Because this stage has a final sting: the kick to Ringmo. Just when you think you’ve made it, the trail juts upward again before finally dropping into the finish at 2,740m. It’s psychological warfare. You can see Ringmo before you reach it – but the trail makes you fight for it.
Stage 2 is a monster. On paper, it doesn’t look like the toughest, less gain than Stage 1, more downhill, but the terrain, altitude, and sequence of climbs make it punishing. The raw elevation loss (2,203m) sounds helpful, but it hammers your legs in a different way. Many finish looking shell-shocked. Others, oddly exhilarated.
This is the Everest Trail Race offers up some of the most staggering views you’ll ever see on a race course, and today, in the shadow of Pike Peak, the price of admission was steep but worth it.
Brutal and Beautiful: Stage 1 of the 2025 Everest Trail Race Sets the Tone
The 2025 Everest Trail Race exploded out of the gates with a punishing Stage 1—23.10 kilometres of raw Himalayan grit, climbing 1,551 meters and descending 1,012 meters across technical trails and high-altitude terrain. From the start line in Dhap (2,950m) to the finish at Chyangsyngma (3,490m), runners were thrown straight into the deep end of this six-stage ETR test of endurance, mindset, and mountain resilience.
There’s no easing into the ETR. Stage 1 wastes no time in reminding runners exactly where they are, high in Nepal, breathing thin air, legs already burning. Early highlights at Sigane and Chyangba delivered sweeping views and traditional village life, but the serenity masked the effort required to get there.
The route dipped and climbed through Khamding, home of the first checkpoint and a welcome chance to refuel with fluids and snacks. But nothing about this stage was easy. The technical nature of the terrain demanded constant focus, one misstep could spell disaster. Warm daytime sun gave runners a psychological lift, but cold nights and the ever-present altitude ensured no one felt too comfortable.
The trail pressed on to Juke, the second checkpoint, offering another chance to grab supplies before the day’s most brutal truth set in, the final 5 kilometres were going to hurt. With around 800 meters of elevation gain packed into that last stretch, the finish at Chyangsyngma felt like a slow-motion battle uphill, but the views help with compensation.
There was no room for rhythm here, just grind, grit, and survival. Poles an essential accessory. Every switchback stung. Every false summit tested patience. But that’s the Everest Trail Race. It’s not just a run; it’s a confrontation with the terrain, and Stage 1 made that clear from the outset what lies ahead.
With five stages still to come, the 2025 ETR has already thrown down the gauntlet. Those who made it through Stage 1 know what’s coming: long days, steep ascents, dizzying descents, and no shortage of mental warfare. But for now, reaching Chyangsyngma was a victory in itself and proof that this race is not for the faint-hearted.
The race start time was a leisurely 0830 after an 0600 wake-up, hot tea delivered to each tent. Remarkably, Nepalee runner, Dal B Kunwar completed the stage in rapid, 2h 40min – there is a great deal to be said for being on ‘home’ turf. The first woman, Nepalee Chhoki Sherpa placed 3rd on the stage in a time of *h *m – full results can be viewed post-race at the ETR website HERE.
The Everest Trail Race is on. And it’s already living up to its legend.
The second stage of the MDS 120 Jordan began today under a sky that could stop you in your tracks. As the sun climbed over the horizon, it lit up Wadi Rum in gold and fire. Towers of sandstone blazed in the morning light, and the vast silence of the desert seemed to breathe. It was a moment of calm before the suffering.
At 0700, the main field set off, hundreds of runners stretching out across the sand in a single wave.
An hour later, at 0800, the top-50 elites launched from the start line, eyes locked on the far horizon and the distances ahead. Three choices lay before all runners: 20 km, 40 km, or 60 km. No matter the distance, no one got an easy day.
By mid-morning, the heat was already rising fast. There’s no mercy in the Wadi Rum sun. The sand, soft and shifting, sucked at every step. It was a grind from the first kilometer. For many, fatigue from Stage 1 was already in their legs. Now, it became a question of how much pain they could manage, and for how long.
But the landscape kept pulling people forward.
Runners wound through canyons where shadows clung to the rock walls, through open plains that shimmered in the heat, and over dunes that seemed to have no top. The colours changed constantly, red, orange, ochre, bone-white. Every climb gave a new view, and every descent brought another challenge.
Support points were lifelines. Blue and orange jackets worked hard to keep everyone hydrated, motivated, and upright. Every shaded tent was a brief oasis. Words of encouragement were exchanged in multiple languages, often between competitors who had just met but already felt like teammates. That’s how it goes out here: shared struggle, instant connection.
For those tackling the 60 km, it was a full day and night affair. As the sun dropped, temperatures fell fast, and headlamps started flickering on across the desert. The sound of footsteps on sand and the occasional burst of laughter carried in the darkness. Some ran together in quiet partnership; others moved solo, locked in their own internal battles.
By midnight, many had reached the bivouac, collapsing into sleeping bags or cheering others in. But the course was still alive. The final competitors came in just after 0100, nearly 18 hours after the first wave set off. There were hugs, tears, and a level of exhaustion that only the desert can deliver.
It was a brutal day. But it was also unforgettable.
Wadi Rum tested everyone, their legs, their lungs, their minds. But it gave something back too: the raw beauty of this land, the solidarity of the competitors, the deep satisfaction of pushing past limits. Stage 2 didn’t just challenge people. It changed them.
A rest day brings and opportunity to re-charge, and stage 3 brings more kms, more heat, more unknowns. The reward, a medal and memories for a lifetime.
Wadi Rum sleeps under a silent sky, and every runner who crosses the finish line , whether first or last, has earned the reward.
The fourth and final stage of MDS Trek Morocco is complete. What began as a journey into the vast, unforgiving desert has ended in a loop of triumph, every step earned, every moment remembered.
Today’s stage started in darkness. Head torches cut thin beams through the pre-dawn silence, the soft crunch of footsteps the only sound as the group moved out into the unknown once more. The air was cool, but everyone knew what was coming. The early warmth was already hinting at another scorcher in the making.
There were two distances again today, different paths, same glory. Whether you chose the longer route or a shorter challenge, the destination was the same: the finish line, and the medal that waited beyond it.
The route offered a final taste of everything the Sahara had thrown at participants over the past days, rolling ridges of sand, winding gorges, and a long, flat, rocky push to the finish. Hard, hot, and humbling. But also deeply rewarding.
Trek has been a shared adventure.
A test of resilience, not speed. MDS Trek Morocco made space for everyone, young and old, first-timers and seasoned explorers, fast hikers and slow-but-steady souls. There were no clocks to beat, only limits to expand.
It was also safe. Every step of the way, the organisation was tight, the logistics seamless, the support unwavering. Even in this remote, elemental landscape, the structure and security allowed people to push themselves without fear.
More than anything, MDS Trek was about togetherness. There were moments of solitude, yes, but also laughter, encouragement, teamwork. Bonds were built under starlit skies and blistering suns.
This trek wasn’t just through the Sahara, it was into a deeper understanding of what we’re capable of when we move with purpose, and when we move together.
The Sahara gave everything. So did the people who crossed it.
This was MDS Trek Morocco: a final stage, a victory loop, and an unforgettable finish.
There are stages that challenge you, stages that move you, and then there are stages like Stage 3 of MDS TREK Morocco, the kind that embeds itself deep in your memory and never lets go.
This wasn’t just another section of the trek. It was the spiritual centre of the entire experience. A 48-hour symphony of sweat, sand, starlight and self-discovery, this was the Sahara in its rawest, most breathtaking form.
Part One – Into the Desert Before Dawn
It began in the dark, well before sunrise. Head torches flickered to life across the bivouac like constellations on the move. The air was still, cool with the promise of what was to come. This was no ordinary start. There was a choice, two routes: the shorter 17.3km or the longer 30.6km. Two paths leading into the vast unknown, with each step breaking the silence of the Moroccan morning.
And then came the sand, golden even in the first light. There’s nothing quite like descending those soft sandy giants as the world slowly glows around you.
Laughter echoed, legs burned, hearts raced. The sand gave way to rocky outcrops, and then again to long stretches of sunlit solitude.
It was terrain that demanded focus: shifting sands, jagged stones, climbs that tested lungs, and descents that punished quads. And moments of pure magic, a Camel with a calf just days old.
As the sun climbed, so did the temperature, creeping past 40°C, pushing toward the high 40s by midday. Every kilometre was earned. The trek moved through narrow mountain passes, broad empty plains, and wind-rippled dunes that swallowed sound and offered only the rhythm of your own breath in return.
This wasn’t just physical endurance. It was mental stamina. This was the Sahara asking, “How much do you want this?” And the answer was in every footstep forward.
Star Night – A Sahara Festival Beneath the Milky Way
Then came the magic.
As the heat softened and the sky turned amber, the group reached the remote desert bivouac, a temporary outpost far from civilisation, wrapped in silence, surrounded by dunes like a protective embrace.
Tents were set up quickly, offering some shelter from the still-warm evening, but it was clear that tonight, few would sleep indoors.
Dinner was served under open skies, a catered desert banquet with the kind of flavour that only comes after a day like that.
Music played. Conversations sparked. Laughter carried on the breeze. And as the sun finally slipped away, the desert lit up in a way that defied belief.
This was no ordinary night.
This was Star Night.
The sky ignited with stars, sharp, bright, infinite. The Milky Way stretched across the sky like a brushstroke of light. It was cinematic. Surreal. And yet, utterly real. Most didn’t even bother with sleeping bags; the night air was warm, comfortable, and inviting. Mats were laid out in the sand, and people lay back, letting the stillness of the Sahara soak in.
This wasn’t just a rest stop. It was a memory being etched in real time. A Saharan festival of connection, nature, and awe. And despite the fatigue, few slept early. Why would you? Nights like that are rare, even in dreams.
Day Two – Sunrise, Sand, and the Final Push
As dawn crept in, the desert glowed again. Another split route awaited, this time 17.5km or 22.5km. But legs were lighter. Spirits were high. The starlit night had done its work. The air still held a bit of cool, and the sun rose gently, casting long shadows over the rippling sands.
The trail wound through more epic Saharan landscapes, twisting through low valleys, across ancient dry riverbeds, and up onto ridges with views that stole the breath before the heat could.
By late morning the thermometer climbed past 48°C. Brutal, yes. But somehow also beautiful. Because every drop of sweat, every pause in the shade, every step forward became part of something larger.
There was camaraderie. People encouraging one another. Sharing sips of water. Pointing out landmarks. Moving as individuals, yes, but always part of a bigger whole.
And then, after hours of pushing through shimmering heat and relentless terrain, the finish line of Stage 3 appeared, home bivouac, familiar now, yet somehow different. Changed. Just like every person who crossed into it.
Why Stage 3 Can’t Be Missed
Stage 3 isn’t just a segment of MDS TREK Morocco. It’s a story within the story. It captures everything the trek stands for: resilience, beauty, challenge, community, and wonder.
This was the essence of the MDS spirit : raw, bold, unforgettable. It tested bodies, ignited minds, and opened hearts. Trekkers will not just remember Stage 3, it will forever be that stage.
IAN CORLESS 