How Far Would You Run To Get to the Pub? How About 480km?

‘They’re still standing…’ was Tim’s first thought as he shook hands with The Bloody Mission crew in Hobart. If they’d run any further to get there they’d have had to swim.

Cal Gates is larger than life. He’s also just large in general, with a big red bushy beard, broad shoulders, and a hand that dwarfs mine in a firm handshake.

His smile’s broad too and it cracks ear to ear as he introduces himself: ‘Fancy a beer mate?’

Cal Gates: pretty much always looks like this

I’m in Hobart for The Bloody Mission After Party, but I’ve got to say I feel like a bit of a fraud. Along with four of his closest mates, Cal just ran the Tasmanian Trail, all the way from Devonport to Dover, in a non-stop relay that has so far raised $40,000 for blood cancer – blitzing its $25K goal. So a bit tougher than my journey.

With the support of trail running lords New Balance, and the legendary Tasmanian brewer Boags, we’re here to go for a trot, hear Cal and the crew share some stories from their mission, and sink some beers.

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The Waggon in North Hobart has a beaut courtyard that almost lines up with the peak of Kunanyi. With crisp blue skies above, it’s not long before local run clubbers start to roll in, eager to hear the crew’s story (and potentially nab a pair of New Balance Hierro V9 trail runners, the same shoe that carried the boys here).

Read more: The New Balance Fresh Foam X Hierro v9 Brings Cushion for Trail Pushing

Before we get too stuck into it, the run begins. A backstreet amble takes us over Brooker Avenue and into Queens Domain. This huge piece of parkland along the Derwent River is a local runner’s favourite, with closed pathways and a good dose of dirt to keep the New Balance shoes honest.

Despite each having run 100km in the last few days, the guys are here, identifiable by their bright orange ‘Bloody Mission’ Fractel hats. There’s Matt, Dan, Jesse, and Steeley and they’ve paid the price of being close mates with Cal. At one point one of them tears past me, putting my much fresher legs to shame. 

Rolling back to The Waggon, we charge our glasses and settle in for the main event. There’s a real buzz in the air, no one’s heard this story yet and despite their local status, most of the Hobartians (that’s legit what they’re called) haven’t been out on the trail.

It’s an old route, more often biked or ridden on a horse, and it crosses a fair bit of private property. In fact, Dan tells me, ‘Some bits were a right bush bash’. So it’s overgrown, too.

At another point, alone and 38km deep, Matt came afoul of an angry farmer. His explanation of how far he’d run, and why, was met with confusion more than anything, potentially justifiably.

‘Look, I’d make a pretty bad burglar wearing a head torch and a hi-vis vest wouldn’t I?’ was the quip that eventually got him on his way. He’s got more great material like this by the way, just ask him.

Matt manages to find humour just about everywhere

The exact format of the challenge was a relay, broken into roughly 50km ultramarathons. Some of the crew hadn’t even run 100km before, but Cal had decided it wasn’t quite hard enough. Once you know that The Blood Run, a solo 250km along the Great North Walk from Newcastle to Sydney, is under his belt, this starts to make sense.

Cal devised a lottery system where runners wouldn’t know who was going next. No plan, all headgame. At least, that was the idea.

Up on stage, Steeley tells us exactly how this panned out for him. As the least experienced runner of the group, grinding out 50km in the middle of nowhere was a big feat. And 50 clicks never gets easy.

But it doesn’t get much harder than whipping your name out of the hat again, back to back, and sucking it up for a consecutive run. That’s what Steeley did, and it was bloody heroic.

The mood turned serious as Cal reflected on why The Bloody Mission exists

As Cal tells us though, it doesn’t come close to what people with leukaemia are going through. ‘We can’t even comprehend it’ he says, his voice catching in his throat as he talks to the crowd. Blood cancer’s a terrible disease that’s taken people close to Cal, and close to me, but it’s a testament to Cal that he turned those feelings into action, and tens of thousands of dollars for life-saving research.

I often think about these charity runs. Should someone have to go and hurt for us to give to charity? Why can’t we just donate? Why does it seem to be those who hurt the most who gain our attention, rather than those who break records with calculated precision.

Maybe it’s a trick of human psychology. We’re transactional, we demand a blood price, if you will. Or perhaps it’s simply that we relate. To suffering, to failure, to Doing Hard Things.

Cal’s energy is infectious. He thanks everyone, from the New Balance crew to the bar staff with genuine care and it’s reflected by everyone: his mum and dad, his mates, his mate’s wives who can’t even argue with this boy’s trip on steroids.

I know that another challenge is coming, from Cal for sure, but hopefully this whole merry band is in tow. Later in the night, a few Boags deeper, there’s chat of bringing even more people along for the ride next time, I think I might’ve said that I’m in.

The next morning I miss a call, it’s Cal. Better lace up I guess.

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Photos by Mitch Gates and Daniel Ferris