Tor des Geants Preparation

With just under two weeks until the start of the Tor des Geants (TDG) on September 11th – there is no more training to be done, just stewing over my plans and race strategy. Since a 205 mile race with 77,000 feet of vertical gain is all new territory for me (last year’s winning time was 80 hours – I can’t even begin to get my head around being “out there” for three-plus days), my strategy is based solely on gut instinct and advice from others, rather than any relevant experience.

Essentially I’ve got a three-part plan. 1) Good nutrition – a minimum of 100 calories every 30 minutes. 2) Pole pole (Swahili for “go slow”) for the first 100 miles. 3) Stay healthy – no falls, good foot care, dress smart. My usual tendency is go out fast and hang on. For TDG I need to go out slow and run smart. A race strategy that is not instinctual for me.

Years ago I used to fly. As a pilot you are taught to constantly monitor your aircraft to maintain the most efficient flight– do you have the right fuel mixture, is the aircraft properly trimmed, is weight and balance optimal? This is a good analogy for monitoring the human variables that will be critical to prevent a fiery crash during the 80+ hours I will be running - am I eating and drinking right, am I keeping my heart rate at the optimal level, do I have the beginnings of any physical ailments that need attention? I plan on having an instrument panel drawn on my arm to remind me of the important variables I need to monitor.

I’ve had the good fortune of having help and assistance from a variety of folks. Canadian ultra-athlete, Jen Seggar who ran TDG last year has been gracious in sharing with me information about the race and answering my myriad questions. For the past several months of my training she has constantly admonished me to 1) climb and descend – and do it again, and again, and again, and 2) practice using poles to develop arm strength and endurance.

Christian Johnson who downloaded the course GPS data and created a 6 by 11 foot map of the course. Not only is the map extremely useful for planning strategy and logistics– but it is a piece of art that will be a wonderful keepsake. Thank you Christian!

My wife Adrienne who has provided me with expert guidance and advice regarding nutrition. Being gluten intolerant makes eating, and in particular, eating during races a bit tricky. With her help I’m at my optimal racing weight, I’ve got great energy, and I have a host of race food options that not only provide the nutrition I need – but sit well in my stomach.

Planning and assembling the required kit has been an interesting exercise. Before signing-up for TDG I’d never used a hydration pack. But, with an extensive required gear list for the race, a hydration pack is necessary. I’ve selected the Solomon XA-20 and with the help of the design team at Gregory Packs have modified it for my build and the functionality I am seeking. Fully loaded with water, food and the required gear – it weighs in at 14.5 pounds. Yikes!


Critical gear I plan on using includes Montrail Badrocks as my preferred shoe, Black Diamond Ultra-Distance poles, and of course my favorite Armani button-down shirt (weather permitting). Entertainment has proven to be a bit of a challenge given the battery life of an iPod is about 20 hours. Fortunately several friends have offered to loan me their iPods so that I can have more than 20 hours of music AND be able to listen to some new music. Thanks guys!

I hope my training will be adequate. Earlier in the summer I was working on duration/endurance – lots of long runs and a fairly heavy race schedule. The last month has been focused on climbing/descending with a healthy diet of Kessler, Grandeur, Gobbler’s Knob, Sunset Peak and the likes. I’ve been healthy all summer and am pleased that I will be going into TDG healthy.

So, we’ll see what happens. I really don’t know what to expect. Everything is new to me; the course, the distance, running without a crew, European style aid stations and logistics, carrying 14 lbs, and the vert. Perhaps my naïveté will be to my advantage. More realistically, I’ll be facing challenges and solving problems that I never anticipated. At some level, it’s the unexpected and the newness of the race that I am so looking forward to that I know will make this a truly grand adventure!

El Vacquero Loco 50k 2011 Race Report

The El Vacquero Loco 25/50k (or Ty's race as it's referred to often) was really meant to be a last tuner-upper before Wasatch for me and a tough race to close the summer for Betsy. The race took place on Saturday, August 13th in the spectacular mountains east of Afton Wyoming. The traditional route from Cottonwood Lake to Intermittent Spring and back was re-routed to the opposite direction because of damage from flooding on the access road to Cottonwood Lake. I really didn't think that our high snow year would continue to force changes this late in the year, but of course I was wrong. Then just two days before the race Ty met with the local search and rescue where they told him they would not support the race if the course went all the way to Cottonwood Lake. Ty sent out a message with the news and a new route, a double out and back for the 50k and a single out and back for the 25k. I could sense the frustration in his email but there was nothing he could do, SAR was necessary but it was pretty lame of them to back out at the last minute. They should know that rescuing an ultrarunner would be at least 3x easier than rescuing this guy, which I know they've a time or two in these same mountains.

I ran this race back in 2008 where I met Luke Nelson (who won) and finished 3rd behind Erik Storheim and just in front of the legend: Leland Barker. This time around Luke and Leland were back along with a few other fast guys so I just decided to be conservative and get a good hard training run in. Well I definitely got a good "hard" training run in with a little over 8,000' of ascent/descent covering some sweet singletrack.

Camping the night before was alright, but the older I get the harder it seems to sleep well in a sleeping bag. Morning came quick enough and Betsy and I hustled down to the road to board a school bus to the start. I was pleasantly surprised to find an open seat next Aric and I got to show him the sweet Smith Pivlock glasses I scored the night before in the prize drawing. Definitely the nicest glasses I've owned in a long time! The bus driver was quite funny as she proceeded to telling us to watch out for bears and that we might get eaten by a mountain lion, obviously we weren't from around these parts and the critters would make easy work of us. I thought about saying something, but decided to save my fight for the bears, mountain lions and the course.

Gathered at the start I gave Betsy a quick pep talk before Ty sent us off promptly at 6am. I immediately settled in at the back of the front group consisting of Luke, Micah Rush, Joe Furse, and Ryan Phillips. I was content running in 5th but then I hit the upper trail and my breathing became very labored. It was almost as if I had asthma, which I have no history of, so I backed off to try and figure things out. Turns out there were two guys on horseback right in front of us and I have a terrible allergy to horses. Once I got past them I was just fine and it really had no bearing on the outcome of the race, it just freaked me out a bit to suddenly be short of breath.

The main obstacle of the day presented itself pretty quickly and we were on the climb to the high point of the race just below 10,000'. I was steady in 5th as I crested the high spot, descended to the first lake, skipped the rock hard snow for fear of losing skin and started the steep climb to the second Lake when Luke came bounding toward me. He was already past the turnaround and I had no illusion of catching the Vo2 monster so I wished him well and hit the last descent to the turnaround as I 2nd thru 4th coming back up. I topped off my bottle at the aid station then started back the way I had came. I noticed pretty quickly the 6th place runner, Nathan Morey was quite close but I just kept it steady on the long descent back to the start/finish area and the 2nd turnaround. Along the way I was able to see the rest of the 50k field, including Betsy who was all smiles and gave me an encouraging word. As I neared the turnaround I glanced at my watch. I was was hoping to get there before the 25k started but I wouldn't even be close. Within two miles or so of the turnaround I started hitting the 25k traffic coming toward me. They started at 8:30 and I hit the turnaround at 9:05. I knew right then a sub 6 hour finish was going to be a real stretch.

Ty and Mike James helped me out as Nathan came steaming through the aid station. I took my time, fueled up and left in 6th place. Somewhere in here I saw Micah coming back at us, a bad knee had forced him out. Soon after we reached the singletrack I passed Nathan, then he caught up to me again as I was taking a nature break. After that I settled in and kept hiking and running at a comfortable pace. We chatted on the lower angle stuff, but as soon as it got steep I decided I would try and catch at least a couple guys in front of me. As I approached the 3rd turnaround point I saw Luke coming toward me and this time it was much sooner than I expected. A short while later 2nd place came by me, then I was nearly to the turnaround when 3rd place came back at me. I hit the turnaround, filled bottles and dug in for the steep hike out. Ryan was nearly to the top of the next steep climb when I passed him. One more descent and steep climb before the ~6 mile descent to the finish. I didn't really know what Nathan or Ryan were capable of on the descent so continued to push hard all the way to the finish and held on to 3rd.

Luke ended up cruising to the win in 5:34, followed by Joe Furse in 6:02, while I stopped the clock in 6:20. Nathan and Ryan followed shortly behind in 4th and 5th (Full RESULTS). Betsy came in a little bit later still smiling and happy to finish her 3rd Ultra of the year. The route seemed much harder doing the double out and back this time around even though it has slightly less vertical, 8,200' compared to 8,700'.

Thanks to Ty Draney for pulling the race together despite the obstacles thrown at him and to all the aid station help who took all the supplies in on horseback. I definitely found what I was looking for; a beautiful run in the mountains.

Kat'cina Mosa 100K-Heat Training

For those of you unfamiliar with the Kat'cina Mosa 100K, I'm not sure how to best describe it. I won't sugar coat things and say it's the greatest race I've ever participated in and that everyone should run it at one time or another, but I also won't say to stay away at all costs. This was the first Ultra that I ran, back in 2005 and I've had a bit of a soft spot in my heart ever since that first finish.

The short of it is that it is a tough course. Early start (3 am), fairly minimally marked ( I've missed turns the 3 times I've run it- which isn't saying much), big climbs(the website says 17,000 ft of elevation-I'm not sure there's quite that much), lots of cobbly dirt roads, and long, exposed, HOT sections over the last 25 miles. I will also say that it's a fabulous course- beautiful first half of the race heading up to Lightning Ridge and Windy Pass, exceptional Aid Station personnel, and for me, a perfect tune up run for the Wasatch 100.

This year's run started early as usual. I was up late the night before enjoying the first night of a weekend 20 year high school reunion, so the 1 am alarm clock was not well received. On the drive down, I was amazed at the amount of traffic on the roads. i have completely forgotten that 1 am on a Fri night is a perfectly normal time for teenagers and single folk to be out driving around. I must be getting old. At the point of the mountain, traffic came to a standstill and it looked as if I-80 was being closed down to 1 lane. There was no where to exit, and I was worried I would miss the start. Luckily, it was short lived and I made it to the start with 5 minutes to spare.

The race started and I found myself running with Sandy White, Jason Berry, Matt Hart, Chris and ??? up the hobble creek road. chris and the ???? guy set a pretty good pace and soon left us on the road. After 4-5 miles Matt, Sandy and I caught back up to them and yo-yo'd until the first aid station at mile 9. A side note-about 4 miles into the run, I stopped for some business in the bushes, and for whatever reason-early am, race jitters, plain forgetfulness-left the one hand-held water bottle I had on the side of the road. It took a mile for me to realize it was gone, but by then it was too late and I wasn't going to go back to retrieve it.. Luckily it was fairly cool, and I figured I could stay hydrated at the aid stations until my first drop bag at mile 16.

We hit the first aid at 4:30, at a fairly relaxed pace. I drank plenty of fluids, and Matt and I took off for the next aid 4 miles away. The next 7 miles were pretty uneventful on dirt roads and Matt and I chatted as we ran along and waited for the sun to lighten the sky. At Rock Canyon (mile 16), I picked up a Nathan pack and some BD Ultra Z-poles. My goal was to keep a good pace on the long climb up to Lightning Ridge, and to drink a full two liters over the next 1 1/2 hours. The climb was beautiful as the sun came up illuminating the upper bowls below Lightning Ridge. I caught up with several early starters, startled some deer heading for their beds, and then I was on Lightning Ridge, and the first game of hide and seek for flagging began. I thought I remembered the trail taking a sharp right off the ridge, but there was no flagging at a snow field covering the trail with no foot prints on it. Matt caught back up to me and we both decided to take the trail. A few yards down, there was a yellowed piece of ribbon from last years race, and then on the other side of the snowfield, we found some bright blue and orange. The single track heading down to Big Springs was beautiful. Fresh wildflowers, lush basins, new sun on the peaks, it doesn't get any better than that. Until, of course, we began descending a rocky, ice filled ravine that I didn't recognize. Stubbornly, I decided to push down not wanting to hike back up to the trail and thinking for sure the ravine wold empty on the trail. The whole valley leads to Big Springs, right? 20 minutes later, after steep ravines, steeper sidehills, and a few choice words, Matt and I were bushwhacking through chin deep brush toward where we thought we heard peoples voices. Luckily, our ears didn't deceive us and we were back on the trail again. We rolled into Big Springs at about 7:35, 25 minutes behind schedule and 5 minutes behind Jason Berry who had passed us while we were exploring new country.

I left Big Springs with another 2 liters of water, determined to drink it all by the time I got to Windy Pass. Matt's drop bag hadn't arrived yet, and he was missing his sunglasses. About a mile later, we ran into John Bozung (RD) and I think Matt stopped to talk to him about his drop bag, because that's the last I saw of him until Windy Pass. It was starting to get hot, I focused on a good hike, running where I could, and the only thing exciting was that I passed the biggest pile of bear poop I've ever seen. I thought it was horses at first glance. It's good to be reminded once in a while that we aren't the only ones to use these trails. Just before Windy Pass I caught sight of Jason Berry, and we came into the aid station together. I grabbed another 2 liters of water and some pringles and took off. Bozung had said that this next 9 miles of traverse down to Little Valley was extra over grown and he was right!! Matt, Jason and I fought our way through the overhanging branches slapping our faces, the extra thick overgrowth and the downed trees. Somewhere in here Matt and I found ourselves running alone again, and then I started to feel just a little bit funky and Matt quickly pulled away. Over the next hour I struggled a little. I managed to keep eating and drinking, but I just wasn't feeling it. Over a 45 minute period, my feet lost their spring and I couldn't avoid the overabundant rocks and roots. I took 6 spills, 3 Cat II's and 3 Cat I's(See Jay's 2010 Kat'cina report for details). The Cat II's being full on face plant, yard sale, tuck and rolls. By the time I got to Little Valley, I looked like Pig Pen.

At Little Valley, I was still about 30 minutes behind where I had hoped to be at this point. I caught sight of Matt on the out and back, drank a coke, filled two water bottles and took off, with the ridiculous idea that I could cover the last 23 miles in a little over 3 and 1/2 hours. I caught up to Matt on the long dirt road climbing out of Little Valley, shared my thoughts that in order to beat Jay's time of 11:27 from last year we would have to average 9 minute miles, then put my head down and started hiking. I knew that the dirt road was long, but I forgot that it was pretty much all exposed uphill to the next aid station. I hiked, and hiked, and hiked some more. I think I ran maybe 2 of the nest 7 miles. By the time I got to the Bath Tub aid station at mile 45.5, I knew that Jay's time was out of reach, and I was hoping to hang onto a sub 12. I drank a Red Bull at the Bath Tub (race day is the only day I can handle a Red Bull, it's like sweet nectar) and headed out into the heat. And it was hot!

The last 17 miles were all about trying to stay cool and hydrated, and I don't think I did quite as well as I could have. My stomach started to shut down a little, not queasy, just not feeling like eating, so I concentrated on getting calories through drinking. Due to the multiple falls/toe stubs earlier in the day, my right toes were pretty tender causing my gait to change a little on the downhills, resulting in a number lof rather large blisters developing on my right toes, Which altered my stride even more. All of the sudden it wasn't that fun to run anymore!

I made it to the last Aid station at mile 56 with 55 minutes to squeak out a sub 12 finish. I drank another Red Bull and a couple cups of water, filled my water bottle with Ginger Ale, and hit the last 6 miles of pavement. The temperature at this point was around 90 degrees, and someone told me that the radiant temperature from the asphalt was around 105. I was melting, and it was all I could do to not jump in the cool waters of Hobble Creek. Finally, the finish at Kelly's Grove. I made it in 11:56 for my third finish of the Kat'cina Mosa. After a 15 minute soak in the river and 40 oz of cold chocolate milk, I felt great and was able to sit around for a few minutes to talk about the day with all the awesome volunteers helping out at the finish.

Matt came in second, just a few weeks after an incredible effort at the Hardrock 100 in 12:31 and Jason finished 3rd in 12:49 looking very strong. Congrats to both of them and to all the participants in the run! It was a tough year to be out there.

Thanks to all the volunteers and aid station personnel who make these races happen! Thanks to my wife and kids for their continued encouragement, and thanks to the Wasatch Running center for thier support.

Burning River 100 Race Report

The dated air conditioner chugged, unable to cool the hot humid air. Mold grew on the ceiling above the window. I was covered in perspiration, as I lay sprawled on the top of the bed in a budget hotel room off the Interstate in Cleveland. I asked myself, what am I doing?

I was in Cleveland on a mission - a mission to run the Burning River 100 and hopefully set a 100-mile PR. When I registered it seemed like a good plan. An open weekend. A fast course. The possibility of tagging the race onto a work trip. Now that I was here, I knew it was a bad idea

I was stressed about the heat and humidity. Forecast for race day was temps in the low 90’s with humidity around 75%. Certainly not a favorable forecast for a Utah boy who is used to low humidity.

Race morning did not disappoint. The temperature was a balmy 72 (I must admit – it was nice not being cold waiting for the race to start) with close to 100% humidity from the rain the evening before. My shirt and shorts were clinging to me – and I hadn’t even started to run!

I joined the lead pack of Dave James, Michael Owen, Eric Grossman and Jordan Whitlock and we went out fast, running the first 9.6 miles in 7:11 pace. Even before the sun had risen, I was having trouble keeping myself cool. I forced myself to drink. I worried about how I would stay hydrated and cool.

By mile 10 Dave, began to pull away. I needed to stop for a Don Pedro (bio break) and let the remaining group go. At this point it was nice to run by myself, find my pace, and get into zone. Just when I was about to that “other place” Valmir Nunes caught up to me and began to force the pace. I was determined to stay with him. I think he was determined to put the hurt on me. We ran shoulder to shoulder for about 4 miles, each mile picking up the pace, until I finally feigned that I had to pee. I could not sustain the pace any longer.

At 43 miles all the wheels fell off. I was worked from having gone out fast, letting Valmir force the pace, and the effects of the heat and humidity. I was dizzy, experiencing a dull headache, and I was having trouble consuming the liquids and food I needed. I contemplated dropping. At mile 45, Mark Godale, Burning River 100 winner in 2008, 2009 and second place runner in 2010 passed me. We ran together for several miles were he humbly admitted that he “knew” the course and graciously helped me up a stream bank that my old, tired and bonked ass was having trouble negotiating. I just stared at his feet and hung on, glad to have the companionship.

As I contemplated my dire condition, I recalled Christian Johnson’s advice when I had shared with him before the race that I was stressed about the heat and humidity. His advice, “just manage it.”

My management plan was simple. At the next aid station I exchanged my two handhelds for a 70 oz Nathan hydra pack. Someone at the aid station commented, “you’re really going to wear that bowling ball?” I put a couple of gels along with some mangos in the front pocket and committed myself to drinking the pack dry and eating all the food before I reached the next aid station. This bowling ball was going to be my lifeline.

By 50 miles I was feeling better physically, and felt mentally rejuvenated when I was able to pass Mark and learned that Valmir had dropped. I was now in 4th place. I was so pleased with my management plan that I filled the bowling ball up again and committed to drinking it dry over the next 6-mile leg.

I find that the first 60 miles of a 100 miler are the hardest. The end seems so far away. Things hurt. Self-doubt creeps into my head. But, from about 60 on it becomes a simple countdown and the miles and the time seem to go quickly. During almost every section I had a little boost. At mile 62, I caught up with Eric and moved into third place. At mile 85 I was surprised to see Michael sitting at the aid station. I suspected he was dehydrated and bonked like I had been earlier in the day. I knew that I possibly had 3-4 miles of opportunity to gain time on him before he fully rebounded. I went out of the aid station hard knowing that if I could get a few minutes lead on him I could possibly place second.

I finished in 16:16. While I failed to set a 100-mile PR, the time was fast enough to place second and I walked away with $900 in prize money (which is a first for me). And, 16:16 is good enough to count as the 5th all-time fastest 100-mile trail time for an old goat (50+).

Top Male Finishers
Dave James 15:57
Jay Aldous 16:16
Michael Owen 16:26
Mark Godale 16:46

Top Female Finishers
Connie Garner 19:01
Rachael Nypaver 19:36
Starshi Blackford 20:17
Christi Tokarz 21:08

Full 2011 Burning River 100 results can be found at http://www.ultralive.net/br100/webcast.php

This was the hardest race I have ever run. Clearly the weather was difficult for me. And, I think it was hard for others as well given the 50% drop rate (280 starters – 143 finishers). Parts of the course are on roads or towpaths. I have a hard time running well on the flats and find it difficult to get into the zone. The volunteer at the 92 mile aid station was surprised when I almost yelled at him “I’d rather have a hill” in response to his gleeful proclamation that “the next three miles are flat.” Maybe in the future I’d best stick close to home - where the air is dry and the hills are big!

A big thanks to RD Joe Jurczyk and the more than 400 volunteers that make this one of the best organized 100 milers. Kudos for a race well run!

Utah Triple Crown FKT

This time last summer, Christian, Erik, Greg, Peter and I were on a long Saturday run and Christian began describing a run that had been reading about, the Utah Triple Crown. He went on to describe how Craig Lloyd linked together Utah’s three tallest peaks into a 29-mile run. We all agreed that it sounded like a potentially grand adventure and we added the Utah Triple Crown to our list of “to do” runs.

On July 16^th, Peter, Erik, and I had a “window” where nobody was racing, working or had family obligations. We were off to the Uintas! Our plan was to follow Craig’s route.

We drove to the Henrys Fork Campground the night before and camped under a full moon. Our plan was to be on the trail at first light. By the time we had broken camp, fueled ourselves and completed all requisite pre-running business (Don Pedro)– it was 6:21 am. We were off on our grand adventure.

Erik and Jay at the trailhead ready to go

The first milestone of the route, Elkhorn Crossing, is at 5.3 miles. Craig reached Elkhorn in 1:02. Somehow we missed the turnoff and ran a half-mile or so towards Sawmill Lake before realizing our error. After consulting the map, It was then back to Elkhorn Crossing where we walked the stream bank looking for a safe place to cross. The heavy runoff this year had washed away the bridge. The swift current made crossing a dangerous challenge. I began an attempt to cross and turned back to the bank when I became doubtful I could keep my feet underneath me. The river rock was slick and the current was strong. Erik then tried and made it successfully across. Peter crossed and I had no choice… I made it! Our time to Elk Crossing was 1 hour 3 minutes, before the wrong turn and 1 hour 26 minutes before our cold wet asses were across the "creek".

Trail looking at the peaks after Elkhorn crossing

The run along Henrys Fork was spectacular. First light was casting a spotlight on a variety of flowers. A rather large bull elk ran across the trail in front of us. Splashing through intermittent streams and bogs was invigorating. Good company in a spectacular environment made for a wonderful morning.

Basin between Gilbert and Gunsight Peak

We reached Dollar Lake and turned east to begin the climb up to the first of the three peaks that comprise the Triple Crown; Mount Gilbert (13,446). We stopped several times to discuss how we thought Craig had approached the peak and what constituted the best route. After climbing up the ridge and reaching a meadow I erroneously began to lead the group towards Gunsight Peak. As we reached the base of the peak we realized our mistake and turned back and began the climb to Mount Gilbert to the Northeast. As we climbed Gilbert strong gusts of wind made climbing the rocks difficult. The wind was causing my eyes to water and I was having trouble seeing. Intermittent gusts would knock us sideways; requiring quick rethinking where feet and hands would next make contact. This was not a place to have a fall!

We reached the top of Gilbert in 3:10, 10 minutes behind Craig’s pace. We quickly took some pictures and hurried down to get out of the wind AND try and make up lost time.

Peter and Erik on Gilbert Peak

Gunsight Peak

On top of Gunsight Peak, Jay and Erik study the route to Kings Peak

Looking back at Gunsight Peak from Gunsight Pass (the photo doesn't do much to show the difficulty of the descent)

We next climbed Gunsight Peak and began the treacherous descent to Gunsight Pass. Staying on one’s feet was a challenge and we took several spills on our way down. What the F#&* was Craig thinking?? We reached Gunsight Pass at 4:23, we made up a little time and were now just five minutes behind Craig’s pace.

From Gunsight we climbed up the cutoff trail towards Anderson Pass. We filled up with water from an impromptu spring in the middle of a snow field and worked our way across the meadow beneath Kings Peak (13,528), our next climb and the second peak of the Triple Crown. There were several small snowfields on the climb. We were hopeful that climbing up the snow would be faster than climbing over the rocks. Wrong! The snow was soft and was melting from beneath causing us to drop through to our knees and sometimes hips. We laughed at Peter as he literally had to roll and crawl serpentine style off the snow as each step he was dropping to his upper thighs. We reached the top at 5:40, exactly on pace with Craig.

Erik and Jay on Kings Peak

South Kings Peak

South Kings Peak

After some quick pictures and a snack we were off to our third and final peak, South Kings Peak (13,512). Moving across the loose boulders was slow, occasionally large rocks would tip or move under foot challenging balance and control. More than a few scrapes were had navigating the rock fields. All we wanted to do was run (very little of the route had been runable since the climb to Mount Gilbert). We were cursing the poles we had brought which were of almost no use. We needed our hands to provide stability over the large rocks. There was an unspoken unease about how we would descend from the peak given the poor quality of the snow. We summited South Kings Peak at 6:08, we were now 15 minutes ahead of Craig.

Moments before we stood on top of the ridge negotiating the best route - which happened to be straight down

Looking back at the snow field (right side of photo) we descended. It is as steep as it looks.

We followed what we understood Craig’s route to be, glissading downward from the saddle between Kings and South Kings Peaks. The snow quality was better than we anticipated and we had a nice run/slide off the saddle. We then worked our way towards a saddle in the ridge dropping to the east of Kings Peak. As we crested the saddle there was silence among us. We were in a spot with no great options. A tricky traverse along a cliff band that would maintain enough elevation to reach the meadow below Anderson Pass. Or, an extremely STEEP glissade down into Painter Basin. We opted for the glissade. After many pucker moments, frozen hands, and snow compacted into a variety of orifices we made it to the bottom.

From this vantage we could see Craig’s route. He had traversed to the north and had come down a nice (as a matter of perspective at this point) snowfield underneath Kings that allowed him to cross the meadow below Andersons Pass to Gunsight Pass. We realized we made a big mistake and began to work our way towards the trail in Painter Basin that would ultimately take us back to Gunsight Pass. After several more small snow fields and navigating through marsh and brush we found a trail that took us to the climb back to Gunsight Pass. We were discouraged and beating ourselves up for our navigational mistake.

We reached Gunsight Pass in 7:46. Eighteen minutes behind Craig’s pace. We quickly did the math and realized that if we were able to keep up a moderately brisk pace over the last 10 miles we would be able to finish under Craig’s time of 9:41. After a creaky half-mile or so to get the legs used to running again, we all got into the zone. It felt good to be able to run. In fact, it was fun to be able to run. We crossed the stream at Elkhorn without event and continued to make good time back to the trailhead. We reached Henrys Fork Trailhead in 9:21, 20 minutes under the previous FKT.

At the car ready for a milkshake

We took off our shoes, soaked in the stream and shared our respect for Craig. This was a tough route! That he studied and knew the terrain well enough to develop this route was impressive. That he had completed it alone was ballsy. His solo effort is a remarkable achievement (follow this link to read his full report).

As we drove back to Salt Lake we recounted the day; laughing about our navigational errors, our fine dining at Don Pedro, and the absurd route, but oohed and aahed over the stunning vistas and scenery we had experienced. Yes, it was a grand adventure!

Hardrock 100 Race Report - 2011

The 2011 Hardrock Endurance Run wasn't pretty and it was not the race I had planned on having but I finished and that was the number one goal heading in.

The short version: With support from my amazing wife and family, plus my good friends Greg and Marge, I recorded my first Hardrock 100 finish in a time of 37 hours 38 mins.

See all of Greg's pictures from the race on Flickr.

With all the nervous anticipation I had, the race couldn't begin soon enough for me. Once we started up the trail my nerves truly calmed and I broke off into a light jog along with the other 140 runners. The opening few miles were pretty uneventful as we slowly climbed up King Solomon mountain. At the top of Dives Little Giant we were rewarded with our first sunrise of the race and a view to the other side of the canyon. A quick descent of 2,000' to Cunningham at mile 9 and I was able to grab a few supplies and see my family and friends for the last time until mile 42. According to my watch I was about 10 mins ahead of schedule. I took note and dropped my pace just a bit as I caught up to Ryan Cooper.

Feeling good at Cunningham Aid Station

L-R, Betsy, Cheryl and Mindy, Support crew extraordinaire.

The next 20 miles felt like I was in cruise control as I just made sure I was relaxed and calm. The heat of the day was coming on and I turned my focus to staying on top of my hydration and calories. Soon I was on the cruiser descent into Sherman which reminded me of some of my favorite trails in the Wasatch. I took my time at Sherman (mile 29) and made sure I had plenty of supplies for the long climb up Handies Peak. The road leading to the trail up Handies is very runnable and like a fool that's what I did. Even though I felt fine the heat was getting more intense and I was becoming dehydrated.

I hit the wall on the first steep pitch in the trees. It suddenly felt as though my head would explode and my stomach would erupt. Over the years I've had plenty of issues with this sort of thing but for some reason it came on much faster this time. Maybe it was the altitude or maybe it was a lack of respect for Hardrock. Either way I knew I was in trouble. I sat down on a log and collected myself. Every runner that passed by offered their help, but I had everything I needed, I just couldn't keep it down. I finally decided to purge my stomach contents and ride the euphoria as long as possible. Immediately I started hiking strongly, fixing my gaze on the 14,000' peak in front of me. Forty-five minutes later I was walking, which quickly turned into a stumble and then I had to sit down again. My thoughts grew dark as I struggled to walk 50 steps at a time. On the upper steep sections I could only manage 10 steps at time except when I was within striking distance of the summit, where I made a big push of 60 steps or so and promptly puked on the peak.

Ben Corrales, a fellow runner and friend from Utah, had passed me just before the peak and wished me well. I could see him running off the peak as I contemplated rolling off the edge. Then I noticed someone walking up the ridge toward me, it was Shane Martin another runner from Utah. He had come down to pace Ben but saw me struggling and came over to help. Shane encouraged me all the way down to Grouse and I was happy for his help but I had made up my mind, I was going to quit.

Feeling rather grim at Grouse Gulch aid station

Initially Betsy and Greg wouldn't even let me talk as they had devised a plan prior to my arrival. Later, they politely listened as I tried to explain how it was hopeless and how the altitude was killing me. But all the while they were pushing soup and broth into my lap and encouraging me to drink it. Slowly I came around and after a little over an hour I stood up to leave and start up the long road toward Engineer Pass. I was still uncertain I could finish, the climb up Handies Peak, as well as the descent, had left me in the darkest place I can ever remember during a race.

This is the reset button I told myself, time for a resurrection. Now I turned my focus to the road directly in front of me and getting to the town of Ouray at mile 56. I could see many runners with their pacers in front of me as the daylight started to fade but I could not see the top of the pass located just below 13,000'. Just then the sky lit up with a bolt of lightning followed by a massive thunderclap, the temperature dropped and the rain began to pour down. I began to feel sorry for myself and dark thoughts started swirling around in my head, then I realized I could be in control if I wanted to be. It was time to rally. I didn't exactly start running but I began to hike with a purpose and soon I was passing other runners. Soon I hit the top of the pass, the wind was howling and I was very cold, but the rain had stopped as I let gravity do it's thing on the way down. The descent to the remote Engineer aid station at mile 49 was more of a controlled fall than a run. All the rain had left the big meadows as slippery as the snow we had passed through at the top. I downed some soup and continued the descent to Ouray, anxious to have Greg's company for the remainder of the race.

The Ouray aid station wasn't exactly a vibrant place at 1am, so I downed some more soup and hit the trail with Greg. On the climb up to Box Canyon we had a bat dive bomb us a couple of times in the tunnel, flying directly into the beam of the headlamp which was really weird. I ran small sections of the Camp Bird road on the way to Governors Basin but mostly stuck with a steady hike as I was well aware of what was waiting for us after the Governor Basin aid station. More soup at the aid station and we began the steep hike up to Virginius Pass, site of the most unique aid station in the race, Kroger's Canteen.

Roch Horton in the center, I'm sitting on the right at Kroger's Canteen

Greg and I passed a couple of runners as we made our way into the upper basin. I was feeling good as we hit the first big patches of snow and noticed the dark outline of the mountains against the star filled sky. The basin was so full of snow that I had a hard time recognizing the three distinct pitches leading to the pass. Finally, after climbing the second pitch the pass came into view. The scene resembled something out of a mountaineering film with all the snow and headlamps dotting the way up. Then the sun started to just come up and provide just enough light to illuminate the entire basin. The scene was very surreal. Next thing I knew I was sitting next to Betsy Nye enjoying a pirogi given to me by the infamous Roch Horton. "4,500 feet down to Telluride, don't trash your quads and enjoy the rest of your run" were the words I left with from Roch as I skied down the scree field off the pass.

The descent to Telluride was smooth as I passed a few more runners. I was grateful that I could still run downhill since the ups were feeling really slow to me. Betsy was waiting for us in Telluride at mile 73 and I took the opportunity to change my shirt and socks. I bid her farewell to start the big climb up the re-routed section of the course into Bridal Veil basin. Before race day I scoffed at the extra 2 miles this section would add on to the race, but I wasn't scoffing at the extra distance now. Once we got up in to the basin we could see the true size of it and it just kept going and going. This prompted me to start a new game called "Guess that pass". From here on Greg and I would guess which pass it was we would be going over. I usually guessed the closest one and I'm quite sure I was always wrong.

Slowly making my way up into Bridal Veil Basin

Impromptu aid station stop in Bridal Veil Basin

Oscar's Pass was the name of our next high point and I remember Karl Meltzer telling me how awful the top of the descent to Chapman was. Karl was right. The rocky descent was an ankle breaker and I took my time until the rocks relented and I could run again.

Heading off Oscar's Pass on the rocky descent, Grant Swamp Pass in the distance

Next up we pulled into Chapman at mile 82 where I chatted with Ryan Burch and his wife while they waited for their friend. Greg and I stocked up for the long haul up Grant Swamp Pass and down the KT aid station at mile 89. Chapman represented the beginning of the end. There were now less than 20 miles to the finish. The climb up to Grant Swamp became a real slog. By the time I hit the final pitch I was moving pretty slowly, as I was most the time above 12,000'. The lack of oxygen started giving me low grade headaches and made me feel like my energy was really low. Thankfully my legs still felt good, but I just could not summon a consistent hike out of them.

Greg's self portrait with Grant Swamp Pass in the background

Me on the descent side of Grant Swamp, Island Lake in the background

The final pitch up to Grant Swamp Pass is just about the cruelest thing I have ever seen in a race. Each footstep would sink into the scree and if it didn't slide backward I would celebrate. I was completely stoked to see Island Lake on the other side and told Greg how he needed to take a picture. "No time" he replied and pointed to the dark clouds building behind Grant Peak. I began to shuffle down off the pass and felt the first couple of raindrops. I stopped to put on my jacket and just then the air around us sizzled with a the crack of a lightning bolt. I turned and ran faster than I ever thought was possible, looking for the trees. The lightning and hail kept me motivated as I was breathing harder than I had in nearly 24 hours.

Finally we came to the bottom edge of the trees and the last bit of cover. I knew the Kamm Traverse was very exposed and with all the lightning I told Greg I wanted to wait it out. He agreed, but after 10 minutes or so we were shivering uncontrollably and decided we needed to run to keep hypothermia at bay. A mile or so later we were at the KT aid station as the rain finally stopped. Much to my surprise Ben and Shane were there warming up so I suggested we tackle the last 11 miles together. Everyone agreed, and after downing the best soup of the whole race we were off.

Almost immediately we had to cross the upper Mineral Creek which is normally quite a bit lower. However, with the recent storm and high snow it was waist deep and I struggled to keep my feet underneath me. The next climb went well and I felt like I was finally full of energy again so I pushed a little harder to get to the pass. I should have known better. We still had a cross-country route to climb up to a ridge that could not be seen. Again, cruel. I finally topped out and just kept it moving as we made note of another storm bearing down on us.

First the rain came down followed by...you guessed it; the hail stones. Once again I was descending much faster than I thought I was capable of. My quads were fried. The previous descent had sapped all my strength. I focused on keeping it upright and looking for the trees where the Putnam aid station was located.

On the final ascent of the race

The rain starts coming down on the descent to Putnam aid station

Finally a big yellow tent appeared and we climbed inside seeking shelter from the hailstorm outside. Three aid station volunteers along with Blake Wood and his daughter were inside. The four of us joined them as we waited for the storm to relent. Soon four more joined us inside. I was growing frustrated since we were so close but I was unwilling to risk hypothermia for a finish. About 30 minutes after reaching the aid station the hail finally turned to rain and we left.

We made quick work of the descent as we picked up Brian Beckstead who had hiked up to meet us (another Utah runner who had paced Ben earlier in the race). Finally we arrived at the final river crossing. First I watched Ben get across Mineral Creek then I followed. I was a bit nervous but managed to keep my feet underneath me as the swift current pulled at my legs. Ben and I took off running since we knew Greg and Shane would catch up to us. I fell into a trance and tried to fight off the emotion that was welling up inside of me.

The final approach to the finish, L-R Shane, Ben, Christian

The final mile or so was a blur as my mind flashed over the previous 37 hours. Ben and I ran up the final chute together and kissed the fabled rock. And just like that it was over. The longest (time wise) and hardest journey I've ever done. Out of 140 starters there were only 80 finishers, one of the highest attrition rates ever for the race. No doubt about it, I would not have finished without the support of my ever supportive wife Betsy, my kids Mason and Paige, as well as my good friend and pacer Greg Norrander.

HAPPY FIVE-O

Hardrock Prep

Back in 2009 I left Salt Lake City bound for Silverton and the Hardrock 100 while sitting at number 6 on the waitlist. I made it to Silverton but not off the the waitlist. That may have been a blessing in disguise as I had an incredible experience pacing Scott Jaime that year and soaking in the atmosphere.

This year I found out in February that without a doubt I was in. My name was one of the lucky few drawn in the lottery and started training with a new found purpose (and pretty much stopped skiing during a record snow season). I even made plans to head down two weeks early to acclimate and check out the course.
About this same time we decided to put our house up for sale. I must admit I was a little nervous about selling the house with Hardrock looming but I figured the chances of an overlap were slim. Well, it turns out I should have been in Vegas all spring as anything to do with a lottery or slim chances has paid off. Our house is sold and we close on July 11th. Hardrock starts on the 8th. That being said, my taper has included the right amount of running and more than the normal amount of upper body/back work (thanks to all the help we've received over the last few weeks, it was invaluable). Another casualty of the house being sold was the early trip to the San Juans. Looks like it will be show and go for me. Currently the nerves are running a bit high and I've been battling a good case of self doubt but as my good friend and Hardrock pacer has told me, I am my own worst enemy.

Thanks to my friends the "training" has been a ton of fun this spring. From running out in the west desert to trudging through mud and knee deep streams to glissading from the top of the Wasatch, without their help I wouldn't be in the best running shape of my life. Thanks guys. Here's some evidence of the training fun from the last month or so...See ya after Hardrock!