It took 35 years, but there is a new king and queen in Wycheproof.
About 3,000 people crammed into the tiny town in Victoria’s wheat-growing north-west over the weekend for King of the Mountain, the legendary event last staged in 1988.
Mount Wycheproof, which stands at 42 metres above the surrounding countryside, is officially the smallest mountain in the world, as everyone from the town of about 600 people will tell you (whatever you do, don’t refer to it as a hill).
But it seems a lot bigger with a heavy bag of wheat on your shoulders. According to a sign at the local cafe, King of the Mountain is “the toughest foot race in Australia”.
The premise is simple: a 1km run up a steep slope while carrying a 60kg sack of grain for the men’s race or 20kg for the women’s. The first to the top in each race takes home $5,000 – plus immeasurable glory.
Sixty kilograms is a lot. A Google search would indicate it is equal to 12 bags of ice, 30 bricks, or about 15 cats.
Kyle Torney of nearby Saint Arnaud said he only weighed about 65kg himself.
“I really should have gotten a better idea of how heavy that actually is,” he panted , exhausted, at the finish line after a top-10 finish.
Torney is an artist and painted a mural in Wycheproof of the original incarnation of the race, held for 11 years in the 1970s and 1980s. It was usually accompanied by a party in a grain shed on a nearby farm.
“There’s photos of the pub back in the day and they’re full at about 10am,” said Rory White of the Wycheproof Narraport football club.
“The race wasn’t until 2.30 and the party was at night, and they used to get around 8,000 people. So it got pretty wild, I think, and probably just got too big for everyone.”
The revelry of the race and the party meant the weekend reached almost mythical status during its lengthy hiatus. Every local would smile coyly and reminisce when asked about the original event; more than one said they met their now spouse at the grain shed.
“It’s a bit different to what it was back in the day,” said White, who was an organiser of the event.
“We didn’t run the grain shed event. It’s now going to be more of a family friendly food and wine festival, with the race [too] obviously.”
There were two runners from 1988 present on the start line this year. One acknowledged he had been “very hungover” last time around and didn’t perform to the best of his abilities, and had been waiting decades for another crack at “the Mount”.
The other was John Russell, who ran at the weekend with his son, Nathan, and has now participated in the last five King of the Mountain events.
“It’s always the last hill that gets you,” he said.
“When I was a bit younger I’d try to run the whole thing but this time I walked the whole way and I felt pretty good.
“I reckon I could probably go another kilometre to be honest.”
There were 54 entrants, including some from interstate, and participants ranged in age from 18 to 65. In 30C heat, one brave man ran in jeans. There was only one fall – a metre from the finish line.
Carly Isaac came from nearby Boort and hadn’t decided on whether she would even enter the race until she arrived. Wearing a Collingwood cap, she ended up winning the whole thing.
Isaac also won the earlier events, including a dash to the top and a wheelbarrow race, before watching her Magpies salute in the AFL grand final later on. Some day.
Thomas Rogers, a Melburnian, was crowned King of the Mountain ahead of the popular local Matthew Hall, who generated plenty of support as he turned into the final, very steep straight.
“It’s so good seeing everyone up here to be honest. It’s great for the footy club and great thing for the town,” Hall said. “I’m stuffed.”
Jade Benham, the local member of parliament, said the event was great for a sense of community in the area. She had earlier pledged to put the $5,000 prize money straight back into the town if she won.
The pubs were full at various stages over the weekend, the bakery was flat out in the morning and crowds poured into Centenary Park later on to watch the footy.
“You get people who come back for something like this and think, ‘Gee, I could definitely move to the country,’” White said.
“I think it’s important for the locals to look forward to – to look at it and think, shit, this is on in our town and we’ve bought a few thousand people here and all we’ve done is put a bloody race on.”
