The heartfelt embrace of the Mexican countryside to the global trail running community.

The Mexican trail has made the most of every moment since the arrival of the Golden Trail World Series in Latin America to bring together its people, the locals from the fields, and the Indigenous communities that feel the mountains. This initiative offers a dual opportunity: for Mexicans to lace up their running shoes and for sports tourism to contribute resources to a much-needed area. Communities like Reyes de Tepezala, which hand-stitch a welcome banner while wearing rain boots to endure an endless rainy season, watch as Africans sprint by at breathtaking speeds, as if they’ve come from another planet. It’s a meeting between two distant worlds that may not happen again, but will be remembered by all. Because, as local representative Eder Belmont succinctly put it, they shared a “hug” in every sense at the Tepec Trail: 34 kilometers with about 2,000 meters of positive elevation gain. This was made even more memorable by the remarkable victories of Elhousine Elazzaoui, the crowd favorite, and Lauren Gregory, who took the top spot.

Tepec Trail is inevitably linked to its Argentine founder, Marcos Ferro. His dream was to run the 171 kilometers of the Ultra Trail du Mont Blanc, a goal from which fate deprived him due to a hamstring injury just before boarding the plane. He lived in Mexico for 20 years and sought a way to achieve his dream. “Why not create a race that could qualify more people in my situation?” Thus, the first Tepec Trail was born in 2011. Huasca de Ocampo became the first major trail hub in the country, partly due to its proximity to Mexico City, just a two-hour drive away. This area prides itself on safe tourism and traditions like the San Juan fireworks castle.

That initial project faltered in 2019, but Salomon, owner of the Golden series, wanted to hold the final of the National Series for the Americas in Huasca in 2021. What was once a 100-kilometer route transformed into a more challenging 34-kilometer trail to add technical complexity and elevation. The starting point was moved to Reyes de Tepezala, a community of 200 inhabitants who survive through agriculture and a couple of small grocery stores. There, the baker navigates potholes on a dusty trail while listening to La Oreja de Van Gogh. There’s no asphalt, although teenagers do their best to cover the road connecting their homes to the main town and sell nuts to fund it.

That’s why Ferro wants to expand: “Trail, biking, or hiking tourism is still in development. And what better way to do it than alongside Indigenous communities, who can share their culture? We bring the guests, but they are the hosts of the celebration.” They rose to the occasion, attracting a massive turnout, from the presentation on Saturday to a course with a volunteer at every uphill section. A pleasant surprise for the circuit. This “perfect picture of the Mexican countryside” includes the weathered hands of farmers who complement their corn harvests with sheep and goats. “We don’t have the mountains of the Alps or the enthusiasm of the Basque Country, but we can offer the flavor and warmth of Latin American culture. If we all pull together, we can do something very important for the sport in this country and continent.”

The geology mirrors the cultural blending of the area. A fleeting race begins on an arid plain next to the church of Reyes. Three kilometers through an eroded area with reddish dunes lead to a woodland paradise where years have uncovered paths like

a buried aqueduct. “What motivates me most about this work is seeing the paths come back to life so the community can use them again.” The main ascent leads to Carboneras—named because its trees were used for charcoal—an open area without paths, pure stone. From pines and oaks, the view opens up to a clear lookout over the Sierras de las Navajas, known for its obsidian deposits, a black volcanic stone used by the cultures of Teotihuacan for spear and arrow tips. Pieces are scattered along the route, the mineral from which trophies are made, as the mines—which the runners skirted—are still operational.

Gregory, who placed second in last year’s final, capitalized on the surge from Joyce Njeru, who won just a week earlier at Broken Arrow, during the final ascent to secure victory with a time of 3h26m28s; the Kenyan finished 4m4s behind and Madalina Florea rounded out the podium at 20m44s. This victory marks her as the fifth different winner in the six events held so far. All of them are candidates for the ultimate crown, along with Sara Alonso, who is second overall.

All this menu of ups and downs in elevation—reaching 2,839 meters above sea level—did not break the men’s race, which was dominated by Elazzaoui, who once again used the tactic of dropping the Kenyans on the descent back to the village. He finished in 3h00m01, fifteen minutes above expectations, a testament to the route’s toughness. This is his third victory of the year, putting him at the top of the points leaderboard heading into the grand final. Patrick Kipngeno finished second, just 10 seconds behind, and Philemon Kirigo claimed third at 22 seconds back. The rest lagged far behind, including the two Mexicans in the top six: Miguel Ángel Pérez and Belmont, the ambassador. Hundreds of fans turned their words into action with a packed finish line that extended the elite reception to the anonymous, with Ferro high-fiving and cheering that pushed runners to squeeze out their last drops of energy, even if their calves could take no more. The Mont Blanc is nowhere in sight, but it’s not needed. Because Mexico overflows with spirit.