Coming from the steppes of Mongolia, a cold front descended on the Yellow River Stone Forest in
Northern China. In just a couple of hours, what seemed to be a chilly day turned into
a superstorm. The temperature suddenly plummeted to −5 °C (23 °F) as the wind reached a gale force.
Behind the rock, sheltered from the blizzard of hailstones that battered the ground, there was a
man curled up. A runner, wearing little more than shorts and a t-shirt, was shivering in the cold.
His mouth was foaming, and he barely had a pulse. Throughout the area, dozens of other
runners were in the same trouble. They climbed the mountain trying to win a race but ended up
fighting the storm to save their bare lives. It was May 22, 2021. The Yellow River Stone
Forest national geological park in China hosted a 100-kilometer (62 mi) trail running race.
This challenging sporting discipline gathered thousands of competitors, including some of the
best runners, from around the country and abroad. The participants gathered along Mijiashan Hill
for the fourth time. The extraordinarily demanding and enduring race was reserved
only for experienced athletes who could prove they completed a similar race within the last year.
However, by the sport’s standards, the trail was considered one of the easiest in the race
calendar. Its total elevation was less than 3,000 meters (9,842 ft), not much compared
to other trails in China. Moreover, the terrain was not too complicated and could be run. Still,
the path had some tricky sections, the most difficult being the 8-kilometer (5 miles) stretch
between checkpoints two and three. This part, named “no man's land,” was a steep, narrow
stone-and-sand path inaccessible to vehicles. It ended with the highest trail elevation of 2,230
meters (7,320 ft) and, at points, runners had to use both hands and feet to climb up. This section
of the trail is where the disaster took place. The race was organized by the Baiyin Prefecture
and Jingtai County's Communist Party Committee to improve the region's tourist offer. They were
meant to supervise the on-field organizers of the race. However, they were not too bothered about
their duty. As a result, the complete control over both the race and everything else required was in
the hands of on-field organizers and a sports marketing company that supported the event.
Unfortunately, these people had little experience in the job, leading to the fatal outcome.
On May 21, the event team met before the race to explain the route to competitors. There were ten
checkpoints, and an estimated closing time was 20 hours, which meant runners would have to spend the
night somewhere on the way. So, at checkpoint number six, the organizers set up a changing
station, where the participants could change their shoes or clothes and grab something to eat.
They also offered to transfer the runners’ backpacks to this checkpoint beforehand.
The problem was that there was no staff assigned to other checkpoints besides that
one. As a result, no one was there to report on runners who went missing when disaster struck.
What’s worse, there were blind spots for mobile phone signal, “no man’s land”
included - an unknown fact to organizers. The most significant oversight was ignoring
the special weather report made by the Gansu Provincial Meteorological Bureau:
"From the 21st to the 22nd, there will be a strong wind, sand, and dust, cooling, and precipitation
in Gansu Province... May has entered a period of frequent strong convective weather,
pay attention to prevent short-term heavy precipitation, hail, thunder and lightning,
and arrays. Adverse effects such as high winds.” The three years prior, the weather had been warm
and sunny, and the organizers believed it would be the same this year.
On the morning of the race, May 22, it became evident that the weather would be anything but
pleasant. Some runners took shelter from the wind that became stronger each hour. They were only
wearing shorts and t-shirts. Their windbreaker jackets were packed with the rest of their stuff
and taken to checkpoint six before the race. At 9:00 A.M., the race began.
The real-feel temperature was 7°C (45°F). As the runners were passing through checkpoints,
the weather was worsening. In the distance, there were dark clouds and strong wind.
At 11:00 A.M., it started raining. The leading pack of competitors had already passed checkpoint
two when it became apparent the storm was coming. About three hours into the race, the temperature
suddenly dropped, and hail started to beat down. At that moment, a pack of runners was crossing the
most challenging part of the trail, a section near checkpoint three. Despite the warnings from some
of the racers who had quit and were descending the course, they continued up. Unfortunately, it was
this group of runners took most of the casualties. The first distress call was sent just after midday
in the event group. The organizers sent the initial rescue team to look for the runners.
Luckily, most had either descended or hadn’t reached the most challenging section.
Many found shelter in stone houses along the road, where rescue teams later picked them up.
Sadly, the runners near checkpoint three weren't as lucky. They went deep into the
“no man’s land,” and there was no way for them to return once the storm began. The
weather changed so quickly that the participants had little time to hide. They were soaking wet,
their faces and bodies bruised by hailstones. The heavy hail reduced the visibility drastically. It
was no wonder runners became disoriented. While some tried to hide behind rocks, others got lost
trying to find shelter. The runners began slipping into hypothermia as the temperature dropped to
−5 °C (23 °F) between twenty-past-eleven and ten-to-two. They were losing feeling
in their legs and losing consciousness. A storm of this magnitude was certain death.
It was a sheer miracle that a local 49-year-old goat herder Zhu Keming hid in a nearby cave,
which he used as a shelter in bad weather. At two P.M, he noticed a disoriented runner
in front of his cave. He took him in, placing him by the fire. Keming gave him a quilt to warm up.
Soon, five more runners found refuge in Keming’s cave. Inside, the six of them dried their clothes
and recovered their strength by the warmth of a fire. The rescue team later collected them.
At around four P.M., Keming managed to find phone signal and informed nearby villagers
of the runners trapped in the mountains by the bad weather. Locals rushed out to help,
carrying warm clothes and quilts. Ultimately, most of the survivors were saved by the
locals who took them to shelter caves. At the same time, Jingtai County firefighters
were sent to the rescue. However, the farthest they could go by car was checkpoint 4. From there,
they had to walk uphill to reach the section where lost runners were. Subsequently, once
they arrived at the scene at 09:00 P.M, the rescue mission had turned into a body recovery mission.
Bodies of twenty-one runners, eighteen men, and three women were recovered. Unfortunately,
they had all died of hypothermia. Out of the 172 runners, only four reached checkpoint four.
The number of casualties made the Gansu Ultramarathon disaster the deadliest yet.
The authorities were quick to determine the causes of the tragedy and the responsibility of
the organizers. Less than a fifth of races in 2019 were certified by the China Athletic Association.
An astonishing number were led by teams inexperienced in arranging such events.
All of the Gansu Ultramarathon staff were part-time workers, none of them having
any previous experience in event organization. A private-owned Blue Sky Rescue search team hired to
cover the race was ill-equipped and ill-prepared to respond to the situation. The organizer also
failed to meet the basic safety standards. Most of the runners on the Gansu race lacked mandatory
warm-weather gear, having given their warm clothes to the crew to take to checkpoint six.
However, the organizers' most crucial oversight was neglecting the weather report.
Even when it became evident that the weather was deteriorating,
the organizers were hesitant to cancel the race. They only did it when it was too late
for runners who had reached deep into the section between checkpoints two and three.
In a familiar pattern in Chinese politics, the local authorities were the first to blame
for the disaster. A finger was pointed at the Communist Party Secretary of Jingtai County,
Li Zuobi. After being called in for questioning by the Central Commission for Discipline Inspection,
Zuobi took his own life by jumping from his high-story building apartment.
A brief, two-week inspection ended with 31 charges. Five employees of the company
that organized the ultramarathon were faced with criminal charges.
Twenty-six local party officials were disciplined, some only with administrative warnings.
Others, however, had to face the loss of their jobs, detention, and criminal investigations.
China's General Administration of Sport halted all high-risk sporting events,
including marathons, that lacked a clear oversight body, established rules, and safety standards.
The Gansu Ultramarathon disaster was a tragic lesson on how an irresponsible approach
can lead to the loss of lives and what can happen when people forget
the sacred rule - safety always comes first.