As I write this, the Emperor’s Challenge is less than two weeks away.
I have never actually run the Emperor’s Challenge, though I have been participating in the event for years and years.
The first Emperor’s Challenge I ever photographed was on a rainy, foggy day, back when the race was still on Mount Roman, back in 2004.
Nobody told me much, other than when the race would start, so I arrived at the mountain at about the time the runners were starting out.
I took some pictures of the start, then set out in my car to see how far I could get before I had to start walking.
Turns out, not very far, and it looked like I would have to hike halfway up the mountain while Kris Swanson was running his little feet off heading the other direction.
Fortunately, some friendly ATV support was able to get me to within about a kilometre of the top, and I started to run (as much as I am able to run, which is to say, not much, especially while carrying a camera bag) up to the top, but I failed to make it there before the first person came out of the fog before me.
Shockingly now, though not at the time, the first person I encountered was Nathan Bernadette, and not Kris Swanson.
Fortunately, I was prepared for this eventuality (knowing that I probably wouldn’t make the top before I started to encounter people), and I took a couple shots of Nathan before he blew past me.
By the time the second person crested the mountain (Fred Walkley, according to my photos), I was at the top, and ready when Kris finally came over the top in third position, nearly 20 minutes behind Nathan.
It seems strange now, but this was back in the day of the walking race, where the walkers left an hour before the runners, so I shouldn’t have been surprised that at least a couple walkers hit the top before the runners did.
This was 2004, six years after the Emperor’s Challenge started. And a few things stand out.
First, you might notice how I casually rattled off the names of the first three runners. At the time, the event was much smaller, more Tumbler Ridge-focused. Scrolling through the pictures, I recognize about half the runners as people who live or lived in Tumbler Ridge.
Second, the race was much smaller. All together, I took 245 pictures that day, including multiple shots of many of the runners, as well as a half dozen or so of Search and Rescue, who had to bring one of the runners down off the mountain.
Third, man, the photos are bad. Sure, part of that is weather conditions, but I’ve become a much better photographer in the last twenty years.
After shooting that first race in 2004, it was six years before I shot the event again, in 2010.
By then, I was a much better photographer, and this time I was prepared. I got to my shooting spot, a few km past the peak of Babcock, after the runners had turned around, with their backs to the mountains, so I could get both them and the scenery in the shot. I also brought a flash along, to create much more dramatic images than I had captured before.
The weather was better, too, cloudy, but not in the clouds (and rain) like I had been in 2004.
And, by this time, the race was starting to attract many more people, with 690 people having registered for the race. This is evidenced in the fact that, after Kris went by, the next runner I recognized was Daniel Helm, who was in tenth place.
I was set up on a corner, and discovered that might not have been the best choice as dozens of runners, paying more attention to me than the course markers, ran off the course and into the rocks beyond, then had to navigate their way back. I tried setting up some of my gear to block the route, but still, people kept missing the corner.
Over Covid, a number of people still went out and ran the race, unofficially, calling it the Challenged Emperor. Even Kris Swanson showed up one of the two years, coming to Tumbler Ridge for love of the sport, of the mountain, and of the town.
That was the closest I ever came to running the Emperor’s Challenge, as I set out with the people running (or walking; I was decidedly in the walking camp), photographing as I went. If I had been officially competing, I would have completed the route slightly before the cut-off time.
I love shooting the Emperor’s Challenge. I love shooting people who are sweaty, and disheveled, and dirty and maybe even bleeding.
Sure, many people are not at their most beautiful, having run XII km in the last couple hours. Maybe their hair is flying in their face, or snot is running down their cheek. Maybe their face is red. Maybe that once perfectly tied pony tail is starting to pull apart. Maybe they are concentrating entirely on their footing and don’t even notice the photographer. Or maybe they’re like that person who was so aware of the photographer that they missed their footing and nearly fell.
It’s okay, because most people, when they hit that moment, are at their most real. They’re at their most human. There is a sense of human spirit and triumph and victory that trumps perfection. It is a small victory to make it that far, and while I love shooting Kris when he runs by in all his athletic glory, I love shooting the folks at the back, too. The ones who are not so young and so fit and so dressed in tactical running gear.
Indeed, for some, getting to the top is as much or more a victory as Kris winning the race for the umpteenth straight time. They’ve risen to the challenge, a challenge that may simply be making it up and over a mountain for the first, and possibly last time in their life. It is these victories, big or small, that I celebrate and honour when I am up there photographing, and I am humbled and honoured to be able to share in these moments.
Trent is the publisher of Tumbler RidgeLines.
