RECON HELL’S HIGHWAY (81 KM)

The stage they fear. The one they’ll never forget.

There’s one stage in the Liberation Trail that rises above the rest – in distance, in effort, in meaning. It’s the long one. The mental one. The one with a name etched into history: Hell’s Highway.

This week, our team went out for a full recon of this legendary section: 81 kilometers from Best, near Eindhoven, all the way to Nijmegen and Groesbeek. The same corridor that once carried the hopes of Operation Market Garden.

A historic start

The trail begins quietly, in the forests of Best. But nothing about this place is ordinary. This is where the first American boots hit Dutch soil in September 1944. Soldiers of the 101st Airborne Division – the Screaming Eagles – were dropped into these woods to secure bridges and push north along what would later be known as Hell’s Highway.

As we ran through the forest this week, the contrast with last year was striking. In 2024, these trails were soaked, flooded – some paths had water up to our knees. It made the running harder, slower, and far more unpredictable. Now, in 2025, it’s a different battlefield. The ground is dry. The plains are cracked. No sign of standing water. Only the crunch of our footsteps and the rustle of wind through the trees.

A corridor of chaos and courage

The route we follow traces the original Allied supply line – a narrow stretch of road and farmland that had to be kept open at all costs. For days, tanks, jeeps, and convoys rumbled up this fragile lifeline while under fire from both flanks. Every meter gained was hard-won. Every meter mattered.

Running here, with GPS watches and hydration packs, you can’t help but feel the presence of that history. You pass small monuments. Names etched in stone. Plaques tucked into trees. The road we run was once a front line.

Endurance meets remembrance

Hell’s Highway is not just a physical challenge. Yes, it’s long. Yes, it hurts. But it also invites you to reflect. To carry the stories forward.

The final kilometers take you into Nijmegen and up the slopes of Groesbeek. By then, your legs are heavy, your mind is tested, and your body is begging for rest. But something else drives you forward – the sense that this matters. That you’re part of something bigger.

Runners who’ve finished this stage say the same thing: “It broke me down. But it built me up.” It’s the day they fear. And the one they never stop talking about.

We’re ready.

Hell’s Highway is calling.
See you in June.