August 11, 2017
One nice thing about the Bigfoot, the 13 mile road section at the end give you plenty of time to reflect on what you have been through, that is if you are in a reflective mood. I thought about my reasons for running 200 miles. I thought about what I learned and experienced along the way. And, I thought about what this race means for my running future. I’ll pass along those thoughts at the end but let me start with an exercise I worked on during the run, one sentence per section:
Start to Blue Lake
The silliness of jockeying for position, myself included amused me.
Blue lake to Windy Ridge
This is way too early to feel this beat up by the heat of the blast zone, thank God for the Oasis.
Windy Ridge to Johnston Ridge
I am way blessed to get to run through this beauty and awesomeness.
Johnston Ridge to Coldwater
Six miles of screamin downhill, I’m in love.
Coldwater to Norway Pass
Has nobody used this trail in the last year? Where is my machete?
Norway Pass to Elk Pass
My heart is the gloom of the cold misty dawn.
Elk pass to Rd 9327
Are those motorcyclists friend or foe?
Rd 9327 to Spencer Butte
Where is the &(^(&* aid station?
Spencer Butte to Lewis River
More glorious downhill, maybe a bit on the steep side.
Lewis River to Council Bluff
The Horror.
Council Bluff to Chain of Lakes
The Death March
Chain of Lakes to Klickitat
Life returns with mildly terrifying river crossings and peak summits.
Klickitat to Twin Sisters
Lack of sleep equals poor running, hallucinations and déjà vu
Twin Sisters to Owens
I’m back from the dead with a mission.
Owens to Finish
Is that cow smiling at me?
Now for the long form:
Start to Blue Lake
We stayed at an odd working farm/bed and breakfast that had some cleanliness challenges. My lovely and supportive wife, Victoria, made the best of it and made us a great dinner. She also drove me to the start so I didn’t have to endure the 2-hour ride crammed into a school bus.
After a quick photo op we were off, heading up Mt. St. Helens. Watching the front runners charge up the mountain was impressive, but not for me so I settled into a power hike fairly quickly. I managed to hold off a big pack, no good reason to make such an effort at this point in the race, except it felt good. The boulder field was a challenge as usual(from running Volcanic 50K). Prudence seemed advisable; a fall on the pumice rocks was best avoided. I had a blast bombing down the hill to the aid station. The aid station (AS) was frantic, everyone trying to get out of there as quick as possible. So I topped off my water and headed out.
Blue lake to Windy Ridge
This is a long section, 18 miles and through the exposed blast zone in in the heat of the day. Conservation is the key. We had a few miles in the trees then a rope climb out of the Toutle river channel into the blast zone proper. There was a bit of back and forth, including one dude with an umbrella. Yea, he was running with an umbrella. It was as goofy as it sounds. The saving grace from the heat and exposure of the blast zone is the oasis, a spring with the best tasting water on the earth. I had to chuckle at a guy taking time to purify the water out of the spring, probably the safest water on the course.
The road up to the Windy Ridge AS was…windy. This was an out and back so allowed the competitors to see who was ahead and behind. We also got a great view of a pristine valley that had been spared the blast by the ridge. This was the place where my rookie mistake started to make my 3 day tour much harder. I didn’t have any drop bags for the first 50 miles thus no dry socks. I was in and out of the AS fast but if only I would have spent 5 minutes airing my feet and putting on fresh socks!
Windy Ridge to Johnston Ridge
This was a visually amazing section. We got to see all the different ways the eruption had impacted the landscape. I felt like I was on a school field trip. I was happy I had insisted Victoria visit Johnston ridge, even if I did not get to see her there. While the views from within the blast zone are amazing, you get a much better picture of the scope of the destruction from the ridge. The race photographer chose an awesome spot with the mountain in the background, I’m looking forward to seeing that picture and the video. At the AS, they applied leuko tape to the hotspots on my heels, but the white, gummy skin was a bad sign. The awesome AS staff even found me a pair of new socks to put on. I shoveled down some real food while they worked on my feet, a new experience for me.
Johnston Ridge to Coldwater
I left the AS feeling like a million bucks and loved cruising the downhills, even if the drop-offs were a bit unnerving. I saw a guy ahead who gave me some ‘tude when I passed him earlier (he then passed me back) so I set my sights on running him down. An interpretive sign about the volcanic hummocks distracted me, but I decided I could Google it later. I ran across a family and the dad asked “almost there?” I said “very funny” then felt bad when he said he had no idea how far we were going. Be nice, Mark. I said to myself.
Coldwater to Norway Pass
At Coldwater, I got some real food but again made the same rookie mistake, not dealing with my feet. The sun went down soon after hitting the trail around the lake and two red glowing eyes near the trail startled me. After a little freak out, I realized that was the reflective strip on the clothespin holding the flagging. The flagging was obscuring the middle, giving the impression of glowing eyes. Now I see why they are called dragons. On the Coldwater trail, we had a nice treat of battling through overgrown huckleberry bushes on the gnarly uphill. This is where the minor ankle roll early in the race reared its head. Every 10 or so steps, I’d get a stabbing pain. I tried to figure out what about that tenth step set the ankle off but could not figure it out. Reaching the ridge, we were treated to a lightning show. Unnerving though. There was no thunder so no way to know haw far away the strikes were. I also knew dry lighting means more chance of fire. I saw an orange light on the ridgeline and hoped that was the AS. But, it soon lifted off the ridgeline and I realized it was the moon. We had some snow banks to cross and I was amused by the signage “straight across the snow bank” easier said than done! This section was fairly brutal and my pace, which had been awesome up to this point started to fall off. I soon saw the lights way, way down in the valley and knew that had to be the AS. Seeing how far away it was sucked out my motivation but I soldiered on without much joy. The nighttime scenery was impressive with the fields of lupine, snow banks, blasted trees and craggy peaks. At one point the trial ran along a rock ledge that had a rockfall right in the middle. I had to hug the boulders to get around it while trying to not think about the hundred-foot drop off below me. The AS was as far away as it looked and took forever to get to. I was looking forward to a sleep station but I had messed up, it was the next AS.
Norway Pass to Elk Pass
Leaving the AS, I immediately got the chills and had to put on my wind-breaker. The mist was so heavy it was nearly rain. I got myself into a funk and the gloom made it very hard to get out of. Fighting my way though the overgrown trail and downed trees did not help. The dawn was my mood; in a word, gloom. With the dawn the lack of sleep started to catch up with me and the hallucinations began. I would see signs that weren’t there. RV’s were parked in the woods. People were standing in the woods watching me. This was more amusing than alarming as I was expecting it, after seeing faces after the Wasatch 100 last year. They were a bit annoying in that I kept expecting the AS when I saw the signs and RV’s
Elk pass to Rd 9327
At the AS, I went down for a nap. I took off my shoes to let my feet air out and had the bright idea to remove the tape. As the tape peeled off, I peeled off the roof of the blister and blood spurted everywhere. I tried to sleep but did not have my ear plugs and something was beeping every minute. After a non-restful 20 minutes, I called over medical and she did the best she could with my feet. I had open blisters on the insides of both heals and proto-blisters in many other places. After some food, I headed out, feeling none too positive about my chances of finishing. This was a really pretty section of the course, with lots of wildflowers and rock formations. But my stagger-step showed the lack of sleep was catching up with me big time. So, I found a nice bit of gravel along the trail and curled up for a 15-minute nap. This was only enough to keep me going but I did feel much better afterwards. Soon, I began to her the whine of two-stroke motors and stepped aside to let three motorcyclists by. They yelled something as they rode by, could have been “Have a nice day” or F*^& off and die”, I could not tell. I was not super keen to see them in that the fumes stunk and they were causing a rut in the trail that was killing my blisters. At one point I saw them shove rocks off the side of the trail and I hoped the trail did not wrap around below them. I left them behind and began to get obsessed with my usual thing, that the trail was going in circles. I seemed to not be making any progress, only going around and around and up and down. But, I knew this was not the case from looking at the map before the race, so I pushed on. At one point I noticed a trail of florescent cereal Hansel and Gretel style. I was sure I was imagining this till I stepped on one and heard the crunch of processed breakfast food. I actually kept running into the girl who dropped them, Mika. She was faster than me but spent longer at aid stations than I did.
Rd 9327 to Spencer Butte
I should have slept here but I was falling behind my schedule to meet my pacer so pushed on after some food. There was a nice downhill but the rutted trail caused me serious pain. Every fourth step or so resulted in an explosion of pain from my heel. I wanted to make up some time on the downhill but that was not happening. I went down then up and assumed this was Spencer Butte. I saw a few cut sections of a log set on end in a row. A bit unusual but what was more remarkable was someone had arranged some fir needles on top in the shapes of letters. It was not till a bit later when I looked down and saw letters and words in the needles everywhere that I realized what I had seen might not have been real. But I was left wondering how much was not real. I soon came to a road and saw I had been on the Cussed Hollow trail. I assumed the AS was on the other side of the road but realized that was the beginning of the Spencer Butte trail. I would now have to climb up Spencer Butte and down the other side to the AS. The uphill was a grind but I set myself a goal of pounding the downhill. Since this was the 100 mile point I wanted to show myself I was still in it. So, I let it fly and passed a couple runners coming into Spencer.
Spencer Butte to Lewis River
I found some energy knowing I would be meeting my pacer, David at Lewis River. I had a quick bite and headed out. I wondered why a miniature horse was staring at me from the side of the road. Upon closer inspection, it was a dead bush. After a couple miles on the road, the course headed down a very steep trail to the Lewis River. I had a couple runners behind me so set myself a goal of keeping them behind me. The trail along the river was quite runnable but it was a shame to be doing it in the dark, missing the view. Once we reached a park, I assumed the aid station would be soon. But, we had several more miles of rocky trail along the river, with some cool outcroppings and one tricky scramble. It started to sprinkle as we came into the AS. I was very happy to get to see my wife and she wished me happy anniversary. I went down for a half hour nap and when I woke up, the rain hitting the tent sounded like a deluge. My wife insisted I have a burger and it was delicious. David joined me after napping in the car and we prepared to head out.
Lewis River to Council Bluff
I wish I could just say this section was horrible and move on. I should have slept at least an hour. The rain was super annoying; it would rain in earnest so we would stop to put on gear. It would stop and we would start to overheat. This went on most of the climb. Besides the rain, we were soaked from fighting past the blowdowns and overgrowth on the trail. The only upside was the uphill was not constant, we would trudge up a few hundred yards then get a reprieve before heading up again. We also had several creek crossings, which I managed to rock hop across, trying to keep my damaged feet from getting any worse. Dawn came gloomy and cold, again as we trudged up the peaks. I got pretty whiney when the trail never seemed to reach the top, heading down a bit before heading up again. I also convinced myself again the RD was sending us in circles. David tried to convince me otherwise. I became exhausted shambling down the trail like the walking dead, barely moving fast enough to keep myself warm. Then, I felt an explosion of pain from the ball of my foot, the blister on top of a blister had just ruptured. I stopped to inspect but there was nothing to be done. To call this the low point of the race doesn’t do it justice. I shambled into Council Bluff hoping this was a sleep station.
Council Bluff to Chain of Lakes
This was not a sleep station but they did have a foot pro who worked on my feet for quite some time. The fresh tape job did not minimize any of the pain though. This section should have been a good one to make up time, with the easy trails and gravel roads. But my foot pain and exhaustion reduced me to an ultra shuffle with a pronounced lean. My running pace was slower than David’s walking pace. David tried to make light of my ultra shuffle but I either wanted to hit him or cry like a baby. The final insult was the AS position. David knew from driving in that the AS was only a quarter mile down the road but they sent us the other way, down a trail, another mile or so. At the AS, I thanked David. I’m not sure how I would have handled the horror of the section into Council Bluff by myself. I headed to the tent for an hour nap.
Chain of Lakes to Klickitat
After my nap, I was a new man but my feet were still in bad shape. Thankfully, Todd, the medical director was there and he taped the heck out of my feet, which made running much more bearable. I headed out with the lofty goal of keeping up a 20 minute pace. The terrain cooperated, with the cumulative downhill section, I was even able to break 20 minutes! The thrills on this section were the water crossings, the first one being the sketchiest. They had rigged a rope for this one but the water was fast and muddy and deep. Stepping into the water, I felt I had a small chance at getting swept downriver, into the rapids. But, no alternative, I headed through. The rope was a little loose, which added a little more excitement. One good thing after this crossing, the other three were cake. I headed down the trail into the evening, missing the sunset with the heavy tree cover. I kept waiting for the trail to turn upwards, knowing we had a big climb to Elk Peak before the next AS. Finally it came and it started out nicely enough. The trial had a sort of Ziggurat shape where we would get a break with some flat running after a short climb. I broke through to the exposed sections just as the wind and mist picked up. Thankfully, the course was marked line-of-sign here. The out and back to the top of elk peak was short but hairy, with the wind and the dark and the mist. The peak was such that you could only see the face you were climbing and were left to imagine what the other sides looked like. Were they straight down or a gentle slope? No way to know in the dark. I tagged the sign and got off the peak as quickly as possible. I used the knowledge that I would get a break at the AS to pound down the trail as quickly as possible (which was not very quick).
Klickitat to Twin Sisters
I found my second pacer, Co ready for me at the AS but I needed some time to rest and gear up. I changed socks and shoes and bundled up for a rest near a heater. I’m not sure how long I slept, but it was not long enough, this was not an official sleep station. Curious moment, there was a tent near the AS on the way in and I asked about it, I was told not to worry about it. Well, I was not worried but their strange attitude made me very curious. I think I was at Klickitat an hour before we headed out. Another amusing moment, as I was putting on my pack I felt/heard a vibration and told the AS captain it might have been my spot tracker. We went back and forth a bit making sure it was working and them wondering if I was OK to send out onto the trail. I was looking forward to this section, actually knowing the trail because of the trail work weekend. The first section went fine but then the climbing started. The inability to see the trail because of the bushes made footing difficult and I kept landing poorly, waves of pain shooting up. When we got to the summit in the early morning gloom I was not too happy to see we had a knife edge traverse. I told Co this was well outside my comfort zone. Co reminded me this is what I signed up for. I tried to convince him I had actually signed up for a beach resort in Aruba but he was having none of it. We headed down with another non-existent sunrise, only the misty gloom getting lighter. Conversing with Co, I was getting really bad déjà vu. Not only had we had this conversation before, but we had had it on this very trail, an impossibility, I knew. Googling déjà vu later I learned I was experiencing “pathological” déjà vu; a symptom of epilepsy and other neurological conditions. We had some nice side hill running on which we could have made good time on but my lack of sleep and feet kept me around 2 miles an hour. There were some high points in this section, seeing a group of elk bounding up the hillside and a Pika posing on a rock. Co told me once we got to the lake we would only have a few miles to the AS. So, of course, I saw a lake around every corner.
Twin Sisters to Owens
I bid farewell to Co and headed to the sleep station for a 30 min nap. They woke me up and said, “it’s two o clock” Two o’clock, what! I said a half hour! They had let me sleep an hour and a half. I came overt to the AS and started to complain. But the explained they had tried to walk me up and couldn’t. I was dumbfounded, how hard is it to wake someone up? The explained further that when they had shaken me I had started convulsing instead of waking up and medical had advised that I needed to sleep longer. I had to admit that was reasonable. I got my last breakfast burrito, some more padding on the balls of my feet and headed out. I was a man with a mission. I knew I would still not get a great time, but I could avoid 90 hours if I kept moving. I was pounding uphill like I hadn’t done in days and cruising the downhills like I was running a 50 miler. Pompoy peak was amazing, getting to see Rainier, Adams and St Helens dominating the skyline all around. Someone had told me it was all downhill from Pompoy and knowing I had no more major climbs felt great. We had a few blowdowns to climb over but it really was smooth sailing. But then I saw Candice, the RD coming towards me looking concerned, which I thought is never a good thing. She explained they had a lost runner who they thought might have went over a cliff. I offered to help but they sent me on my way, good thing, I was seeing people in the forest anyway so would have sucked as part of a search party. I found out later they soon found him uninjured but delirious, complaining of piles of burned cell phones all over the forest. The thought of an injured runner lying in the woods put a damper on my spirits but I had to push on. The double track to Owens was downhill but I was having a hard time convincing my legs of that. This was my fastest section in days, doing 16 miles in 5 hours. That hour and a half I had slept saved me three hours of shambling along at 2 mph pace!
Owens to Finish
I cruised through Owens, doing good on water and food but did stop to use bucket toilet. I had an unnerving moment when it made a crunching sound when I shifted a bit. Soon after heading out, I got the treat of seeing my wife heading to the AS. We hugged and I headed out with a smile on my face. Along the road, I saw lots of houses, RV’s and boats that weren’t there. Hitting the paved section, I figured I had 8 or 9 miles but had to turn off my Garmin, the battery was about to die and I did not want to lose the whole race. Cispus road was not great. A couple dogs ran after me and a couple cars shined their high beams on me. The road seemed to go uphill several times but never back down. I walked a bit of the uphill but still kept a decent pace, judged by the mile markers. There were several cattle herds along the road and I amused myself by making small talk with the cows. I told one cow how pretty she was and I swear she smiled at me. Looking to the side of the road was weird; it was wall-to-wall RV’s. I had to wonder why my addled brain put RV’s everywhere. I also saw a few tree houses built right above the road. Turning on to 131, I knew I could make it without further walking if I set my mind to it. Turning on to Silverbrook I started to let the thrill of the accomplished task wash over me. I felt the great combination of the satisfaction of completion, the deliria of sleep deprivation, the bone-tiredness of exhaustion and the easy joy of putting one front in front of the other. Heading around the track, I thought, I need to do more than just cross the finish line, I need a witty comment. In that what felt like 5 minutes I thought up what I thought was a good one and tried it out at the appropriate time” I headed out for a Friday morning run and it took longer than expected” to the approval of those gathered around to cheer me home.
Post Mortem
My lovely and patient wife let me hang out at the finish for a hour or so while she slept in the car for the third night in a row. When we got back to our weird farm/bed and breakfast, we found we were locked out. So, another night in the car for Victoria-now that’s true love! My legs were killing me but I figured if I can do 200 miles I can stand a few hours crammed in the car. In the morning, we drove back to the race to get the drop bags. My feet were beginning to swell so I asked Todd to remove all the tape. Getting that all off was painful but felt better afterwards. Only problem, I had all the exposed blisters on the bottom of my feet and couldn’t walk. So Todd and Josh, one of the race staff carried me to the car. What service!
One nice thing about the road section to the finish, it gives you some time to reflect on what this race means. I’m not a big fan of the “It has changed my life” evaluation. I have certainly grown and changed through ultrarunning but that sounds a bit melodramatic for my taste. Why do I do it? Because I love running. The further I can run, the more to love. I certainly love the challenge of a new distance and a new trail. And next year I’ll come back to try for a better time-more challenge. I also do it to give glory to God for the wonderful body He gave me that can carry me over 200 miles in 3 days and to revel in His creation. Oh and also for the t-shirt, mostly for the t-shirt.