4 years ago, I got hooked on this crazy ultra running scene when I ran Jim Skaggs' Antelope Island 50k (now the Fall Classic). I had a blast and met some great people. Those same friends told me stories about the Bear 100 and how great it was. At the time, I was not ready for a hundred miler, but kept that in the back of my mind for the 'when'. Last year after finishing a few 100k races, I felt ready to tackle the challenge of a hundred miler. In considering which race to go for, I recalled those previous conversations, so the Bear it was. With over 22,000 feet of climbing at an average elevation of 7k, it was not going to be easy. I'm obviously not one to shy away from challenges.
Although I had successfully ran all my other races without a coach, I wanted help to get to this distance without over-training or over-thinking. I feared that with my part-time work schedule, I'd take every free moment to run wanting to put more miles on, which isn't necessarily the best idea. So, I signed up with CTS and have the privilege of working with Corrine Malcom. She's been great in keeping me focused, but allowing me the opportunity to play as necessary. When I injured my calf a few weeks prior, she was very encouraging and helped keep my spirits up.
Mark and I decided to make a vacation out of this and took the opportunity to go check out Rock Creek Cattle Company to play golf in MT and also visit Yellowstone NP. It was nice and relaxing and helped (somewhat) to keep the race off my mind. We played golf and hiked. It was perfect!
We traveled down to Logan on Thur and went to packet pick up. It was great seeing friends from the past and catching up. I'd see some of them again on Sat throughout the day as well as make a few new ones. Afterwards, Mark and I went for sushi for dinner, as it's been a good standby pre-race meal for me. I knew that Jim Milar always has sushi prior (he's the one that gave me the idea), so got a recommendation from him and it was perfect. There were plenty of options for both Mark and I, and even a mango shrimp roll that we called 'dessert'.
That night, I slept remarkably well. I was torn on what to wear, so Mark told me to run in a happy skirt to remind myself to run happy and enjoy the day. Mark helped tape my calf and brought me to the start line and per normal, took the pre-race picture (I was cold and excited, and nervous all at the same time):
At 6 am sharp, the race started. I almost cried with excitement, I had worked so hard to be here this morning. Out of the neighborhood and into the canyon for the climb to Logan Peak. I fell into a perfectly paced congo line. I stopped a few times to take pictures, but turns out my lens was fogged up. Darn, it was pretty looking back down with the leaves turning. I did however see Carissa climbing up:
I got to the first aid station right on my desired pace, and I was feeling good. The run down to Leatham Hollow aid station was fun, lots of sweet single track. I was moving well and feeling pretty good. I'd even forgotten about my calf, as it wasn't bothering me at all. Heading out to to Richard's Hollow it was starting to get warm.
I filled up my pack with water and set off. There was a nice breeze, but that climb was relentless. It then hit a nice downhill to Cowley Canyon. I was having a blast and running great. I had a drop bag here, but to my surprise, I forgot to put clean socks in it. I had 3 of the volunteers offer me their socks. It was almost funny how they were trying to one up each other to give me the socks off their feet. I love this community! In the end, I graciously declined the socks and kept going.
As I came into Right Hand Fork at ~37 miles, I didn't know if I should expect to see Mark. Originally, the plan was status quo: he'd drop me off, play golf, then meet me at finish. However, he hurt his knee earlier on the trip and was unsure about golf. I had given him my best guess at times. I didn't know what he was doing. When I arrived, I didn't see him, but also (wrongly, it turns out) thought I was ahead of pace. I was worried that he'd show up later. The volunteer insisted that I keep moving and not worry about it. So I did. Turns out he did go play golf, so I didn't need to worry about him.
As I left toward Temple Fork, I recalled my preview of this section back in Aug. It was exposed and a slight climb, followed by a descent into Temple. My notes said to make sure I was prepared, as I would hit this during the mid-day heat. Yep, that's what happened. It was here that I started noticing I was having a harder time climbing. I would get a few hundred yards up a climb and my heart rate would spike and breathing would become labored. It didn't bother me at the time, as I usually climb hard and end up resting a bit after some of the steeper sections, especially in the later stages of a race.
I got to Tony Grove around 7:38. It was much later than I was expecting. I grabbed some food and my gear for the night and took off within 10 mins. I also pulled on my long sleeved shirt, as the temps were dropping rapidly. Turns out I should have slowed down a bit more, Mark showed up 2 minutes after I left. I didn't know this (probably for the better). As Tony is the 51 mile point, a lot of pacers were waiting to pick up runners. Jim Skaggs was waiting to assume pacing duties as I started to head out called out to me and gave me a quick hug and some encouraging words.
When I did a preview of the next 2 sections back in Aug, it took Steve and I almost 6 hours for this 17 miles on fresh legs. I assumed it would take closer to 7 on tired legs and at night. The climb out of Tony is laced with rocks of all sizes. It was pitch black by now. At one point I saw two headlamps coming down the trail. I was a bit concerned that some runners were having issues and returning to Tony, however it was a surprise to see two horseback riders. I stepped off the trail, but they did the same and kept moving down the trail. I was still moving well. I was also alone, very alone. It was awesome. I'd look up and see the stars and moon and shadows of the ridges. What a spectacular night. Coming into Franklin Basin, I made my first tactical error. I could tell my headlamp was fading. I had batteries with me in my pack, but I knew I had a spare light in the drop bag and didn't want to stop moving, however the lower light made it a bit slower going. I came across a guy with a light and should have stopped to change the batteries. I later regretted that. The minute it would have taken to do this would have been fine.
As I got into Franklin Basin just after 1030, I heard Aric Manning (from my favorite podcast, Trail Manners) call out my name. He gave me a hug and got me a chair near the fire. He proceeded to get my dropbag and help sort out my pack and gear. This was the longest I sat at any of the aid stations, but it was needed. I headed out with a cheese quesadilla and started up the long climb towards Steam Mill. This section crosses intertwines with a dry stream bed and it got a bit confusing at times. Especially with my brain fog at this point. A think a few times I went the more technical route up the stream rather than the trail itself. Oops. I also knew that this was the section that people can get lost on, especially near Steam Mill turn. I was running as able, but mostly power hiking due to the terrain. When I finally hit the road down towards Logan River I was relieved to be off the trail for a bit and able to relax.
Leaving Logan River was pretty funny. It's 2 am and the first thing you do is cross a river on a some logs and a wobbly bridge. All after running for 68 miles. I am glad i had poles to keep me steady on that. I really wasn't in the mood for wet feet. It was cold enough. I had a heavy set of gloves on and still needed handwarmers in them to keep my fingers warm. By now I had thrown a vest and my windbreaker on over my long-sleeved shirt. I was still in my skirt, but my legs felt warm. I had a set a of capris in my pack if I needed them, but I never did.
For the most part I was still alone. I would pass some folks, or vice versa, but then wouldn't see headlamps in either direction for the longest time. I took the opportunity to turn out my light and just stare at the beautiful sky. The descent down to Beaver Lodge was crazy. This is the area there was a fire in last year, so the terrain is pretty beat up due to building the firebreak. It was here that I took my only fall of the race. I had gone by another runner a few minutes before and was moving steadily down hill. The next thing I remember is the barrel roll and seeing my water bottle pop out of my pack. I somehow caught it, while holding my poles. I sat there for a few a bit dazed. The other runner caught back up to me and saw me sitting on the ground. I think we were both a bit confused on what I tripped on, since there was nothing there. My one knee had a few scrapes, but the other was was a bit more bruised up. Other than that, nothing serious. I slowly got up and continued down to the lodge. Again, with the fires and some logging activity, this was a confusing area. Around this same time, I made my second tactical error. I forgot to ops-check the connection for recharging my gps. I couldn't keep the charger plugged in, so it died. Oh-well, now to rely on the flagging and time of day.
At Beaver Lodge, I made my only shoe change. I had been wearing the Altra Superiors, but decided to change to my Lone Peak 2.0, that I have been babying since they changed the shoe last year. It was time. My feet didn't look too bad when I changed socks.
The climb to Gibson is when I started really noticing a problem with my breathing. As I mentioned earlier I was having some mild issues, but here I was only able to take a few steps during the climb before becoming out of breath and wheezing. I was concerned that maybe the altitude and dehydration were the issue. I kept moving forward, albeit slowly at times. I arrived at Gibson Basin around 6 am. I didn't realize it at the time, but I was now only 20 minutes behind the 30 hour pace. I had made time up. Although the fire looked appealing, I didn't risk it and kept moving.
The next section was a bit arduous for me. I couldn't run without wheezing, but I could powerhike. I don't remember much of this section. I was sleep walking for a bit of it and wanted to sit down and take a nap. I am exceptionally grateful for the nice man directing me across the river by telling me which rocks to put my feet on so I wouldn't get my feet wet. By now it was morning and I dropped my headlamps and capris at the Beaver creek aid station. Again, I didn't stay long. I grabbed a hot pancake and hiked out. It was around this time that I accepted the fact that my 30 hours was out of reach and I was more likely to finish in 30:30. I had 4.5 hours to make it 15 miles. That would be easy on fresh legs and with lungs that would work. It also started raining during this section. Cold rain. I was very happy with my new Outdoor Research jacket. It kept me warm and dry. This was probably the lowest I got the entire race. However, I didn't give up. I decided that even if I didn't get the Grizzly, I would still finish and I wanted to be as close to that 30 hours as I possibly could. That kept me moving at a brisk pace. Around this time is when I started to hallucinate. I would see what looked to be people camping or fishing or near cars around every corner, only to find out they were logs or snow banks.
I was in and out of Ranger Dip at mile 92 within a minute. I didn't want to stop for any longer for fear my mind and legs would tell me to just rest. Again, my new goal was to be as close to that 30 hours as possible, even if over. The climb out of Ranger Dip is only a bit longer than a mile, but I think it's the steepest climb on the course. You then drop down some crazy technical atv trail. Unbeknownst to me, it had rained hard in Fish Haven the day before and with the morning rain, that trail was slick. It was like ice skating. Uphill.
When I got to the top, I looked at my watch and realized that I had just over 1.5 hours to make 30 hours. Holy sh#t! How did that happen? I still had a chance at the Grizzly. I mentioned it to a gentleman that I was starting to pass and he was just as surprised. We both took off as best we could. Unfortunately, I could only run the downhills at this time without coming up short of breath.
When I finally got cell phone connection, I called Mark. I was in tears and I guess pretty incoherent (according to Mark, I was totally incoherent). I thought I was pretty clear that I had the chance of making 30 hours, but it would be close. However, the words must have come out that I didn't think I would finish at all. Lesson learned. Don't try to talk when you are emotionally and physically drained.
After 'skiing' down the trail, and one last tortuous climb, I hit Fish Haven Canyon Rd. Still power hiking, but with a mile to go in 25 minutes, I knew I could do it. I came around the corner to see Mark getting out of the car. Crossing the road and running down to the finish line, I saw Jim and Aric and all the rest of the folks that were hanging out. It was a great feeling! While the picture makes it seem like I was in pain, I was on the verge of tears of joy.
I crossed the line at 11:46 am, for a total of 29 hrs and 46 minutes of running. Best of all, I earned that Grizzly Buckle that I wanted! I'm still not sure how I made up the time, but I did.
While having a pacer would have been nice, I'm not sure I needed one, expect for helping me not worry about navigation. I never thought about quitting, nor did I really get lonely. Unfortunately, the song stuck in my head for this race was Paradise by the Dashboard Light by Meatloaf. Arrggg. I still can't get it unstuck.
So the question of the day: Would I do this again, run 100 miles? Two days later, I'd say yes. I still like the 100k distance best, but this is a challenge that I thoroughly enjoyed.
Our hotel room for afterwards. Thank goodness Mark was able to upgrade to a tent with heat. It got cold!
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