The 5th Annual Bad Ass 50k ended up being a cold one. It was 17 degrees at the start with about 2-4 inches of snow on the ground in the Horseridge area, east of Bend, Oregon. The Cinder Butte had a little more off the NW ridge ATV trail section, complete with a few wind lips that made for a couple of drop offs you could jump and get air off of (little heal grab or something fancy). Due to the cold conditions, we only had 4 finish the 50k this year. However, I was surprised to see a a big group show up to run the other distances (9, 13, 22 milers).
I have a 100 miler coming up in March and wanted to use this as a 3-day training block for some good volume ending with this run on tired legs. So, I squeezed in 4 runs in a 51 hour window totaling 60 miles. Felt pretty good considering. All in all a great day. Here’s a little video highlight. Giddyup!
Rod and I ran the Bad Ass loop so I could mark it this afternoon. A bit nippy out today…20 degrees at 2pm with good wind…BRISK BABY!! Conditions are not bad considering the solid winter we’re getting in Central Oregon. About 2-4 inches of snow on the course, but double track has nice hardpacked 4WD tracks in the snow to run on. The Cinder Butte NW Ridge ATV trail descent is blown in and has several layers of snow…maybe 6-12″ in most spots. Will be fun downhill tomorrow. Here’s a little video of our run today…I’m stacking up the mileage getting ready for Coyote Two Moon 100 miler in March. After Badass 50k tomorrow, I should squeeze in 60 miles in a 50 hour window in 4 runs…8.5, 4.4, 16, and 31 miles respectively. Giddyup!
I’m heading out this afternoon to mark the loop with Rod. I’ll tweet conditions when I’m done for anyone wondering on snow conditions. Last report (a week ago), was about an inch of snow and a little more off the NW side of Cinder Butte on the ATV trail descent. Not much. We’ve had some sun the past few days and the forecast for tomorrow is sunny, but cold. Low tonight is supposed to dip to single digits and tomorrow’s high is supposed to be around 28 degrees…probably a little warmer out there, but still chilly. Come with lots of layers and options and a change of clothes. Giddyup!
I headed to Seattle for the holidays and met up with Justin Angle, Bill Huggins, Bryan Estes, and Angle’s dog Piper for a 16 mile trail run on Tiger Mountain just east of Seattle. Perfect weather with some clearing and got to see the moon, as we started out with headlamps and summited just as the sun was coming up. Awesome training run. Nice to just be in mud and out of the snow for a few days.
I’ve been quietly back training starting in October and so busy with work, not much time to write. Snow is in full effect in Central Oregon and I’ve been running with studs now for a few weeks. Here’s a look at this year’s Screw Your Shoes flyer…we’ve already held two clinics to winterize some shoes for runners in town.
Scott Wolfe, Dave Bowman and I did a little dawn patrol run from the Badlands out to the Bad Ass 50k loop. Little inch dusting of snow and 18 degrees at the 7:30am start, but blue bird skies and the sun rose to give us quite a brilliant sight with the fresh white stuff, plus frost. Top of Cinder Butte really gave us spectacular views of the clear and snow clad Cascade Range. Awesome morning.
Local Jingle Bell 5k tomorrow…think I burned a few matches today on the long run with the boys, but I’ll still try to turn it over tomorrow. Giddyup.
I’m back to running again. Being out his past weekend at the first annual Flagline 50k got me motivated to start running again and think about jumping in something to run. I’m thinking MacDonald Forest 15k end of October, I’ve done that run one other time, years ago, and it’s a blast.
I should have some video up for Flagline in a few days. I used Max King’s helmet cam during the race on my singlespeed mountain bike. Fun day and great way to monitor the race up front. Eric Skaggs pulled out a win over Max, with Yassine rounding out the top 3. On the women’s side, Kami notched another commanding win, with Stephanie Howe and Jenn Shelton finishing out the top 3 respectively.
There was a little course marker change mix up at mile 28 by a volunteer…bummer, but that’s how it goes in trail races sometimes. They fixed it after the first 15 went through. Everyone for the most part was pretty cool about the whole thing. That’s what I love and respect about the ultra community. Stuff happens and you roll with it…a lot like life.
Sweet course, I must say. I think that one’s on my list next year.
I also started running in the new super light minimalist trail shoe, the Inov8 x-talon 190. Their nice. I’m really liking them better than the 212s. The mesh upper is sweet. If your find yourself, like me, kind of on the fence between two sizes (for me, size 10.5 and 11), I usually go with the bigger. However, I wish I would not have on these. Most shoes tend to curl toward your toe as the shoe breaks in, but I find the lighter half of the Inov8 line does not. They actually stretch out a little.
The New Balance MT 101 should be coming this week. This shoe looks like they made some solid improvements from the MT100 upper. Giddyup.
Wow, what a trip this one was. Loaded up the family Thursday and headed for Bainbridge Island, WA to stay with my in-laws and visit family. After a good night’s sleep we got up and went to Battle Point Park with the our kids (and their cousins) to let them run off some energy. Plus, I needed to do an easy 20-minute “flush out the legs” run after being in the car all day Thursday. I had a nice easy run with some stretch sessions, headed back to the car, changed and went to hang out with my wife, sister-in-law, kids, and nephews.
The boys soon roped me into a game of “chase Uncle Jeff” around the playground. Okay, I’m tapered, rested and raring to go. So, I joined in without a thought. Soon, 6 other boys on the playground (ages ranging from 4-8) decided it looked like awesome fun and joined in the chase. I obliged and started running all over the playground to keep away from the boys, occasionally letting them catch and “jail” me. I would then quickly break out and it would start all over again. After about 10 minutes, I was scaling a rope/wood wall with 2 boys hot on my heels. I slipped and banged my shin/tibialis anterior muscle about 3 inches above my ankle joint. After I sat down, it really started to hurt. Walking, flexing my foot—all hurt. Oops. That wasn’t smart.
Friday evening I went and crashed at my wife’s sister’s house in Seattle. That way I didn’t have to deal with the ferry on Saturday morning. We had dinner and after hanging out with them and my little 1-year old niece (SO CUTE), I hit the sack at about 10:30. My shin was still sore (this made me a bit nervous). Next morning I was up at 6am, on the road by 7am, and in Easton and checking in by 8:15. After catching up with a few folks (Jamie Gifford and his wife, Matt Hart, Betsy Nye and Paul Sweeney and few others), we made our way to the start at 10am. After the Canadian and U.S. National Athems, we were off and running. The first thing I noted was that my shin hurt every foot strike. Not promising, but I pushed the worry out of my mind and settled in and ignored it.
Hangin' with Seattle's Mike Adams before the start.
I had decided I wasn’t going to let anyone go in this race. And with Phil Shaw, Lon Freeman and Dan Barger in the race, I was prepared to go out quick. Rod said Phil went out pretty quick from the start last year, so I was ready for that. And true to last year, he did. I went with him and by the time we hit the first climb a couple miles in, Phil and I had gapped everyone with Dan Barger chasing. Phil and I settled in to running up the first climb and chatting a bit. I felt good and soon we got into some downed trees. I continued to run while Phil hiked. I quickly gapped him and took the lead up to the first water-only station at mile 3.7.
I had gone out with one bottle half filled and one bottle empty, and was planning to fill at 3.7. Jamie Gifford quickly topped off my bottles, and Phil didn’t stop and assumed the lead as we jumped onto the singletrack switchbacks that climb up to Goat Peak. I ran back up to Phil and started to settle in behind him when he suddenly stepped aside and said “go ahead.” So I did. It was early and Phil was obviously running his own race. I checked myself and felt like I wasn’t pushing and kept running with a few short hike breaks on the steeper sections. Soon I was about 100 meters ahead, but could always see Phil a couple switchbacks below. The terrain up Goat Peak is pretty gnarly and loose (as it’s a high-traffic motorcycle trail). Soon I was up Goat Peak and ran into three motorcross riders, one of which had dumped his bike off the steep trail into the trees (upside down) between two switchbacks. They were all standing there assessing the situation. Bummer for them.
Soon we were rolling along on our way to the Cole Butte aid station. I arrived at Cole Butte, filled my bottles, grabbed some banana, and watched Dan Barger run right through the station and head up the rocky double track. I settled in about 30 meters back. We summited the road and Dan stopped to re-tie his shoes. I took the lead and started the dirt road descent. Dan caught up to me and we started chatting about Western States and Bighorn, and soon Phil caught up with us too. After descending 1500 feet, we started up the 1500 foot climb together — talking, running and hiking. We soon arrived at Cole Butte together. We left together and kept climbing on our way up to the PCT junction. I again pulled ahead on the steeper climbs around mile 17 or 18. I soon gapped Phil and Dan, and couldn’t see them anymore. This would be the last time I saw them during the race.
Rolling on the Pacific Crest Trail...sweet part of the course. Photo: Glenn Tachiyama
I soon jumped on the Pacific Crest Trail (PCT) and started the nice rolling running the PCT dishes out on this course for nearly 30 miles. Awesome. I really enjoyed this part of the course. I felt good (except for the sharp pain every step in my left shin/muscle). I ignored it. At one point I thought about dropping, but then thought about Jurek’s 2007 win (and former course record) performance at Hardrock (which I witnessed) with a badly sprained ankle. It was black and blue with an air cast on. I thought…if Scott can run on a sprained ankle, I can run on a bruised shin…suck it up, Jeff, ignore the pain. So I kept going.
Leaving Tacoma Pass Aid Station with mouthful of banana (Mile 23). I took the lead for good about 4 miles prior. Photo: Candice Burt
VIDEO: Tacoma Pass Aid Station, Mile 23, 1 minute lead. Video by Matt Hart, CoachingEndurance.com
Since I didn’t have a pacer or crew and was going on drop bags, I was in and out of the early stations with the help of Jamie Gifford, his wife and Matt Hart who jumped in without prompting to help me out (thanks y’all!). At Stampede Pass (mile 33), you leave and immediately start climbing up into the woods. I glanced at my watch when I left and then listened for clapping for the next runner, which was Dan Barger. About 2 minutes. Not much. He was right behind me. I just kept on plugging away and soon arrived at Meadow Mountain aid (mile 40) and got in and out and listened again. I never heard clapping so I knew I had increased my lead over the last 7 miles.
VIDEO: Stampede Pass Aid Station, Mile 33, 2 minute lead. Video by Matt Hart, CoachingEndurance.com
I came into Olallie Meadow, Scott McCoubrey’s aid station at mile 47. I gave Scott a high five, downed some bananas and kept rolling. From Ollalie to Hyak were probably my lowest point in the race. My shin was really hurting badly by this point and there is a lot of rocky terrain in this section. Plus, the off-trail section on the ski resort at Snoqualmie just killed my shin. Downhill running, especially technical downhill sections…the kind I normally excel at, really hurt. I had to really go gingerly down on these sections. I was grunting and growling coming down that thing. I really couldn’t run the steep technical stuff fast like I normally would, it just killed my tibialis anterior, it was like somebody was ripping it off. Best way to describe the pain was with every foot strike it was like stabbing needles in my shin muscle. It hurt enough that even with the lead, I thought about dropping…and I’ve never dropped out of a race…ever. In 48 ultras…never. So, I kept pushing the pain to the side. I concentrated on quick, light steps and kept turning over.
VIDEO: Hyak Aid Station, Mile 53, 30 minute lead. Video by Matt Hart, CoachingEndurance.com
Getting my Black Diamond lights set up for night running at Hyak (mile 53).
I arrived at Hyak (mile 53) at 6:51pm and got my lights and gear for night time. I had some soup and jammed out of there not knowing where 2nd place was. I got through the paved section and started running up Keechelus Ridge on the gravel road, where I encountered my most bizarre experience in ultrarunning. I was buzzed by a Spotted Owl about 3 feet over my head. Wait, it get’s better. He swooped up into a fir tree about 20 feet off the deck and stared at me. Immediately the line from the kid’s book “Sam and the Firefly” by P.D. Eastman came to mind (I read it to the kids)…so I quoted, “Who? Who? Who wants to play?” and proceeded to run up the road. As soon as my back was to the darn thing, it swooped down and clawed me in the back of the head. WHAP! I felt my head and checked for blood. Nope, just stunned me, but thankfully didn’t draw blood or get my hat or headlamp. I guess the sucker wanted to play. I ran about a mile uphill without any hike breaks. I kept looking over my shoulder, completely paranoid he would come after me again. Good motivation.
I soon arrived at Keechelus Ridge aid and had some soup and got running again. I turned on my lights leaving here and was soon running down making my way to Kachess Lake. When I arrived at Kachess Lake at 9:20, I asked Matt Hart how far back 2nd was at Hyak. He said 30 minutes. That sat well with me, as I knew I’d run pretty hard up Keechelus Ridge and down. Hopefully the lead was more now.
I had some more soup, got bookin’ up the road and into the 5-mile “Trail from Hell” section from Kachess Lake to Mineral Creek, along the banks of Kachess Lake. In the past, this section has been pretty slow with regard to splits and the fastest split was Phil Shaw from last year’s course record run, covering the 5 miles in 1:42. I was hoping to break 1:35. This section is the no-rhythm section. Well, that’s the rhythm…no rhythm. I just ran everything I could possibly run, even if it was only 3 strides. I got through this pretty quickly, and finally found myself turning and crossing Mineral Creek. I ended up running that section surprisingly quicker than I anticipated in 1:26.
I had more soup at Mineral Creek, and got into my final drop bag to get all the gels I’d need to get me to the finish. I was stocked up and moving up the 3,000 foot gravel road climb to No Name Ridge. This section was nice, as my shin was really bothering me after Trail from Hell. The smooth, consistent climb was a nice breather for my leg. I was soon up to the Ridge, drank some soup, ate a peach slice, and was off and moving into the Cardiac Needles section.
Everyone talks about this portion as such a hard section, but I found this trail to be nice. The climbs are steep, but not huge. The downs are steep, but not long. I found it was just a good rhythm through here. I was still in my sleeveless jersey, arm warmers and gloves and didn’t need any other layers. The night was awesome. There was a good amount of dew on the underbrush, but it’s not too overgrown here. I got to Thorpe and went straight up and down it before getting anything at the aid station. It was kind of cool and spooky, as Thorpe was engulfed in a whispy cloud when I went up to the summit and back.
I got going out of Thorpe after downing an orange wedge and getting my bottles topped off. At this point, I knew I had the record, but wasn’t sure by how much. I was ahead of my original splits (for an 18:55), so, I just kept plugging away. This section has a few steep, rocky downs that I could only hobble down. I couldn’t run downhill like I normally would. My shin was just too tender. I made the rocky traverse over to French Cabin aid, and was in and out quickly and making my way up the final grunt climb before the final descent down to Silver Creek. The section from French Cabin to Silver Creek seemed like it took forever. My shin was really bad by this time and I had to walk down some of the more technical, rooty sections…I just couldn’t run downhill fast at all. It felt like someone was jabbing needles into my shin muscle. I gimped down to Silver Creek and knew I was going to be well under 18:55. I got moving through the whoop-dee-doo section after Silver Creek and was soon turning onto the gravel road, and onto the ATV trail. The road section over the overpass and into Easton popped up and went by pretty quickly and I soon saw the lights of the fire station.
Finishing at 4:31am in the dark. New course record by 1 hour and 19 minutes (18:31:09)
After the shin debacle and the owl attack, it was nice to be coming out on top. And, getting Phil’s record was just icing on the cake! It was definitely the most pain I’ve dealt with during a race. I ran with patella tendonitis in ’04 at Wasatch for 60 miles. But, this was way, way worse. Sharp pain in my shin for every step for 100 miles. My brother -in-law and I (afterwards) estimated I took over 100,000 steps on my left shin. A good beating. It was a good discipline in pain management. Just push it down and out. I’m still hobbling (6 days after the race) and the swelling is still there, but got it checked and it appears to be only a severely bruised muscle. Obviously pounding it for 100 miles made it worse, but it will heal—thankfully.
Thanks so much to the race volunteers, Charlie the RD…he’s the man….great race he puts on up there. Everyone should come check it out. It’s a stellar, tough course. My Suunto watch clocked 20,960 feet of climbing! Much love to my supportive family (as always), my sponsors, and Scott and Siiri for all their post-race advice dealing with the gnarly after-effects of the shin. Also, thanks to Jamie Gifford and his wife, Matt Hart for helping me get in and out of the early drop bags. Nice to have impromptu crew. And, as always, the Big Man Upstairs for blessing me with the drive and abilities to gett’er done! And finally, I leave you with this great photo taken of my shin, a few hours after the race, right after I took off my compression socks, right before it balooned up to freakish size…a big gnarly giddyup…
Gnarly after-effects of running on a bruised shin for 100 miles.
Sorry for complete silence. Have been working like a madman, training for Cascade Crest 100 and trying to be a decent father and husband. Somewhere in there I just can’t squeeze in any posts. Wanna hear my excuse? Hey, it’s summer, I’ve been in the mountains.
July Update
Jumped in SOB 50k in Ashland, 3 weeks after Bighorn 100. Squeezed a 4th place finish in in 4:09. Quads were not quite recovered, but all in all great time down there.
August Update
Turned 39 at the beginning of the month. Did the “BRB” adventure for my birthday. Bike-run-bike. 23 mile singlespeed mountain bike ride, 19 mile mountain run, 23 mile mtb ride home. Great day. Have been up in the mountains every spare second I can afford. Some good runs up into Broken Top and Sisters Wilderness, Three Fingered Jack, and summited South Sister this morning (5,000 feet of climbing, round trip 12 miles), and did recon on part of the Cascade Crest course last weekend (part of PCT section and mile 68 to 95). Gonna be an awesome course. Can’t wait…less than 2 weeks.
Michael Franti, live show in Bend
Hal (in white sunglasses). Crew came up from Ashland for his bachelor party (Bend edition), at Michael Franti concert.
Also, joined the Ashland crew for Hal’s bachelor party (the Bend leg) and went to Michael Franti & Spearhead. Awesome show. Good time and great to see the boys (Meltzer and Brimhall flew in for the festivities). Always good to hang with GQ Smooth. We even got “old man Bien” to come out and play.
Well, that’s what I’ve been up to. Hope everyone out there is having a good summer of mountain running. Okay. I’m going outside. Giddyup.
Getting night gear at Porcupine Ranger Station (mile 48).
Heading back into the snow and the night.
Hard finish in Dayton, Wyoming. 20 hours, 34 minutes.
Not to be confused with “I flew”, but yes, “I flu.” Nothing like running 100 miles with flu symptoms—builds character. At least that’s what my wife tells me.
Having children is a blessing. I love their energy, how much laughter there is in our house, and their undying creativity. It makes me feel younger and I adore them. But, as every parent knows, with kids comes sacrifice. Especially if you’re an ultrarunner training for a 100 miler. Runs at 10pm with a headlamp or getting up at 4:30am to get to a long training run in so I can get back to hang out with the family—losing sleep to train. I’m okay with it, it’s part of the gig. I’ve made friends with this fact.
The one thing every parent understands is the sympathy and heartfelt pain you endure to watch your child heaving their guts out over the toilet, or worse yet, all over your bed at 2am. The dreaded flu bug.
So, 5 days before Bighorn 100 and 36 hours before we were to leave for our Bighorn-100-Montana-camping-family-week-of-fun vacation, you can understand my horror and disbelief on Sunday night when my daughter started throwing up. I kept telling myself “it’s food poisoning, she’ll pull through, we’re okay.” After cleaning up pukey sheets for the 3rd time at dawn on Monday morning, upon my wife’s urging and loving tired whisper “go in the other room and sleep, you have a race,” I went to the other room to catch some much needed ZZZs.
By Monday afternoon, my fears were confirmed when my son started throwing up too. The flu! Definitely the flu. No. No. No. This can’t be happening. I washed my hands like a doctor going to surgery, I took every supplement we had in the cabinet to boost my immune system. I waited.
We postponed leaving until Wednesday morning, our drop-dead leave time to make it to check-in in Sheridan, Wyoming by Thursday evening (1,100 miles away). All the stuff went through my head: “My parents are coming to crew from Missouri, they want to see their grandkids, I’m so fit, we’re supposed to camp and have fun in Montana, I can’t get sick, oh man, I’m so fit…”
My son quit throwing up on Tuesday and we decided to take the kids and let them recover on the road. After all, their grandparents were coming. My daughter was feeling way better by Wednesday afternoon and came out of the funk to be quite the little joker in the car and start eating like a horse. Back to normal. Thank you, Lord. My son was another story. He was still not eating, sipping on drinks, slept a ton on the drive. It was coming out “the other end” too much still. He was weak. We were worried. He was being a tough little dude. No complaining. I was proud of him, but we were questioning whether we made the right decision in having them, especially him, make the trip.
We made it to Sheridan with 15 minutes to spare for check-in on Thursday evening. I had to carry my son (who’s almost 8 years old). He couldn’t walk he was so weak. He hadn’t eaten anything in 96 hours. My parents came to see their grandkids and Benjamin barely talked to them. He was out of it. I was tired, but felt okay still. I was worried about him.
Then, to add to it all, I was up the night before the race from 4:30am-6:00am with him in the toilet at the campground. He seemed a little better, but still was having emergency trips to the bathroom. I hadn’t even had a chance to think about the race at all. I was worried about my little guy. He wasn’t bouncing back like his sister on this one. His legs were giving out while I was racing. He was refusing food and drink. Jennifer finally gave him an ultimatum on Friday afternoon, chug a glass of Emergen-C or go to the Emergency Room. He chugged, realized it wasn’t too bad, then chugged another, and he started bouncing back within 20 minutes. His electrolytes were way out of whack.
When you’re a parent, there’s no prima donna athlete thing going on…you suck it up and you wipe butts and clean up puke…it’s what you do. You do what you have to to get them back. You don’t complain and you just roll with it and show up to the start line.
I woke up on race morning, ate, and did my usual pre-race ritual. About 2 hours before the 11am start, I looked at my wife with a worried look and said, “I don’t feel right.” She looked into my eyes with that deep worry and understanding only a mate of 17 years can deliver and knew I was not just having pre-race butterflies. She gave me a potent Oregano Oil pill and gave me a little hug. I took it and laid down to wait for start time.
With my son still feeling down and out, Jennifer didn’t even go to the start, she stayed at the camper and hung with the kids.
I know some of you reading may criticize me for downplaying a 3rd place finish and a 20:34 time at Bighorn, but please understand this post is not meant to be cocky, but more of a emotional purge. During the race, I wasn’t sure what was going on, I had an idea it was the flu, but it was like a little mental note that kept surfacing when I just never felt “on.” My little “mental note” was confirmed on Sunday evening (after the race) when I got the full blown flu in Livingston, MT. We had to get a motel room and I laid in the fetal position doubled over from cramps in bed for 16 hours with fever and chills. By Monday afternoon (18 hours later), I was coming out of it and felt a lot better by Monday evening. About the same window as the kids flu spell earlier in the week.
To understand my brain a little, I’ll give you my mental outlook going into this race. I know this course, I was, until this year, undefeated in every showing with 3 wins there. It was MY course. And that’s how I looked at it. It’s hard to swallow all that training and preparation to get knocked down the week of the race. But it happened and I couldn’t do anything about it. Please understand that I’m not trying to be a sore loser or take away from any other runner’s performance out there. Mike Wolfe threw down a very, very fast time…and Joe too. I may not have pulled out win #4 even running on all cylinders, but, what Mike ran is what I wanted to run that day too. My goal splits were to be right there where he was. I was ready. I had a killer spring of training that involved 70 days straight in March and April with no days off from running. A great run at Silver State 50 miler as a fitness tester in May just missing Jasper’s CR by 83 seconds, and a last block of 83 miles and 14,000 feet of climbing in a 96 hour window 3 weeks out from the race. I was ready and more fit than I’ve ever been going into my 4th Bighorn. I was fit for a sub-19 run and I could feel it. But, what can I say? It’s a 100 miler. Life is unpredictable. Curve balls come and you just have to roll with it. What will be will be. I wanted to fly, I just flu.
The Race itself…well, what can I say…it’s kind of a blur. I normally can remember every aid station split to the minute and recall it back with razor sharp accuracy. Not this time. I’ll spare you the boring details. Needless to say, I never felt right. So none of the drawn out race reports that I’m known for. I’m sure some of you out there are breathing a sigh of relief. Where am I now? Things are looking up. Everyone in the Browning household is healthy. The kids are eating strawberries and cucumbers like there is no tomorrow. My garden is growing quite well and summer is finally here. The Cascade high country is opening up for training. Things are looking up indeed. Giddyup!
Time to taper for Bighorn. I’ve had a solid spring of training and great tune-up races and I’m feeling more fit than ever going into my 4th Bighorn 100 in 12 days. Complete with a 70 day streak of no days off in March and April and a great tune-up effort at Silver State 50 miler. I’ve put in some solid training in May, post-Silver State and have to say I’m getting pumped. I love returning to the Wyoming mountains. It’s such a great hometown event. The gnarly singletrack and wildlife. GiddyUP!
On a course conditions note, looks like there is quite a bit of snow still in the high country. 2-3 feet still in the heart of the Bighorns. Interesting to see if we end up on the normal course or if they send us out on the snow course we did in ’08. Whatever works—less than two weeks to go time.
