I road tripped out with two other Central Oregon ultrarunners, Chris Kraybill and Sean Meissner. They were both running the 50 miler. After camping in Idaho, then Jackson, Wyoming on Tuesday, we arrived on the west side of the Bighorns and camped on Wednesday. Then, got up Thursday and cruised up Highway 14A into the Bighorns, west of Dayton and scouted out the conditions on the high point of the course and the turnaround.
Trail conditions were perfect, dry and tacky. Unlike last year, that area was fully saturated from snow melt and there was water standing on the course around Devil’s Canyon Road. The temps were sunny but chilly at 9000 feet, a down coat being necessary. With the course conditions and my legs feeling really good, I was optimistic for race day.
There was talk of thunderstorms on race day, but we awoke to just a slight haze. Bighorn has an 11am start (the norm in most 100 milers being 4 or 5am starts). It’s nice, because you can get a good nights sleep the night before, get up and not feel rushed. I woke up on race day about 7am and had my normal pre-race meal of 3 raw organic eggs and organic raw milk, rocky-style, a banana, and water.
About 10:10am, my folks, Chris, Sean and I jumped into Chris’ VW Eurovan, Phoebe, and headed up the Tongue River Canyon Road to the start. We hung out and made small talk with Rob Cain and Tim Turk, two other Oregon runners from Ashland.
After checking in, I mingled with Roch Horton and Ty Draney, two former Montrail/Patagonia teammates. This would be my first showing under the new Patagonia Ultrarunning Team banner, as Columbia Sportswear bought out Montrail this year. Montrail/Patagonia became Montrail/Nathan, and Patagonia started a small grassroots team. Rod Bien and I were the first one’s to approach Patagonia to inquire about a team after the Columbia buyout. I was stoked to be representing Patagonia. They’ve always been true to their athletic core and are a very eco-conscience company—hard to find in today’s corporate structure. Plus, their gear is bombproof.
This year’s competition was a little deeper than last year. Last year, Ty Draney was my main competition. This year Ty was back from a stellar 3rd place finish at Wasatch 100 last September. He had stomach issues at Bighorn last year in the heat. I had told him to switch from E-caps to S-caps for his electrolytes and he had after Bighorn last year and hadn’t had any stomach issues since. Me and my big mouth! Oh well, I can’t help it. I’m such a geek; I like to share the love!
I knew he would be tough and unlikely to repeat his issues from last year. John Hemsky from Colorado and Sean Andrish from Virginia were entered, both men having fast times in other 100-mile races. Sean being the faster of the two. Also, Matt Sessions from British Columbia, who I later found out, was gunning for the course record too.
The 2006 Race Begins
At the start, Andrish went out like a rabbit. Ty and I had discussed this before the race. We knew he had a tendency to go out fast and either runs really well, or blows up—we were expecting the latter because everyone underestimates the course at Bighorn. It’s deceptive. Most mountain 100s in the west have 20,000-26,000 feet of ascent/descent. Bighorn only boasts 18,000. But the course is remote, the singletrack is super narrow (6 inches wide, rocky, with ground foliage covering 50-80% of that), the terrain is exposed, and the long climbs take their toll. Plus, everyone has to night run due to the 11 am start.
As we let Andrish go running up the first major climb, Ty and I settled into 4th and 5th place, in a chase pack. We were power hiking and talking about “conejo” (Spanish for “rabbit”) or joking in a Yosemite Sam voice, “I hate rabbits!” We were joking and hiking as Andrish pulled slightly away. It was early to be running so much on such steep terrain. I knew what was coming.
Soon we reeled in John Hemsky and moved into 3rd and 4th. Now only Sean Andrish and a ponytail dude (someone we didn’t know) were in front of us. The ponytail dude was losing ground to us and we couldn’t see Andrish anymore.
As we neared the top of Tongue River Canyon, you run along a fence row. The fence is a natural line and has a faint trail you run on. However, shortly after running along the fence, the course veers right across a meadow, which is a heavily flagged section to quickly gain a ATV road and top out the first climb. This is where Ty and I took the lead last year when the leader missed the turn and followed the fence row. We were approaching that spot when we noticed Andrish and the guy in second going up the fence row, past the flags! The curse of the fence row had struck again! Unbelievable!
Sean had notice his mistake and was heading back when we started up the meadow in the lead. They were maybe 4-5 minutes behind us now. Not much, and we fully expected Sean to catch back up soon. As we took the lead, Roch Horton ran to the front just to have the luxury of saying he’d lead the race. He was cracking me up. I looked forward to seeing him at this race. He’s a tough dude. He’s 48, and still runs 4 or 5 100s a year and finishes in strong times. I hope I’m as tough as him at 48. He’s an inspiration.
We topped out and headed down to Upper Sheep Creek Aid. We came into this aid in a group of 4 or 5 runners, with Sean only about 3 minutes back; Matt Sessions in 3rd place with another guy back 100 yards from him. Ty and I made our way to Dry Fork Aid at mile 13.5 by 1:38pm. This station is the first drop bag spot and our first point on the course where we’d see our crew.
I had planned on running drop bag to drop bag, with only quick stops at other aid stations to refill bottles and grab a mouthful of fruit. I had pre-filled Amphipod waist packs with my gel (Gu) refills and also pre-filled 24 ounce bottles at the drop bag locations consisting of one water and one Gu2o sports drink. Ty and I cruised in talking and laughing and he surged into the aid station to jokingly be in the lead. He’s a cool dude. I’ve really enjoyed getting to run with him the past three 100s I’ve done.
The Colonel (Sean Meissner) was waiting for me with my waist pack and my bottles. He walked with me as I switched gear, weighed in, ate some orange wedges and a bit of banana and Ty and I left together descending the 4WD road to Cow Camp.
The heat was starting to hit on the way to Cow Camp. The haze had blown off to make way for blue skies with a few scattered puffy white clouds. We arrived Cow Camp at 2:40pm and cruised on together to Bear Camp, arriving at 3:55pm.
I had planned on skipping Bear Camp and only refilling water this year, as it’s a remote aid station where they backpack in the supplies. The food is processed stuff (wheat thins, M&Ms, and pretzels usually—stuff that won’t go bad and they can easily pack in). I was planning on doing only gels though that section. Ty and I were in and out in probably 20 seconds and we were working together to pull away from the rest of the pack.
Ty is a really strong downhiller and we are pretty compatible runners, pace-wise. We descended the steep 3.5-mile section from Bear Camp to Footbridge in 33 minutes and arrived at the Footbridge at 4:28pm at mile 30. I was feeling the heat and feeling a little bonky coming into Footbridge.
I was sick of the Gu2o in my bottles and hadn’t drank enough in the last hour and a half and decided to switch back to only water and leave my pre-filled bottles in my drop bags I also had opted to ditch the Gu2o refills and bars I had in my waist pack and only proceed with gels. Less weight, and it wasn’t agreeing with me anyway.
My lack of hydration showed as I weighed in at 147 (ouch, my pre-race was 153). They let me go without a word, but I knew I needed to bump up my liquid per hour and get back on track or it was going to get ugly.
Ty and I left together, but I was fading a bit. He pulled 40 yards ahead and we quit talking. I soon had to make a pit stop and I lost contact with Ty. This next section to the Narrows aid proved to be my lowest point, as I tried to drink a lot and not slow down too much.
By the time I hiked into the Narrows at 5:35pm I was feeling better, as I had downed 48 ounces in less than an hour. I quickly downed two cups of broth and headed out 3 minutes behind Ty. The next section is 6.5 miles and uphill to Spring Marsh had been a slow section for me last year. I ran out of water in ’05, but was prepared with bigger bottles this year. I plugged along trying to keep up on my hydration and get back ahead of the bonk curve. I downed another 48 ounces in less than an hour and refilled at a creek crossing.
The water comes right out of a cliff band above and it’s clear as a bell and rushing down the hillside. Oh, it’s ice cold and so tasty. I filled both 24-ounce bottles, chugged 12 ounces and topped it off again. I got out of there and back to my hiking and running transitions as I made my way to Spring Marsh at mile 40.
I arrive at 7:10pm to find Ty had increased his lead to 8 minutes. I wasn’t freaked out yet. We still had a long way to go. I relaxed and kept forward progress, as I didn’t want to start pushing too hard, too soon.
I made Elk Camp by 8:00pm, downed a bowl of Raman and headed out 8 minutes behind Ty. Good. His gap was holding steady. I just wanted to keep him within 10 minutes and I figured I had a good chance of closing the gap after dark on the downhill back to the Footbridge.
As I pushed to the turnaround, I was feeling a blister on my right heel. I was wearing the Nike Kyotee and they were rubbing a small blister, nothing terrible, just annoying. The shoes are light, cushy and neutral. They were proving too lightweight and flimsy for this technical course. Plus, I had rolled my ankle slightly 3 times on the first major descent. I was nervous for the upcoming 17-mile night descent to the Footbridge, as it’s even more technical. Luckily, I had a plan.
To be safe, I had my Mom carrying an extra pair of shoes, Montrail’s Leona Divides (now discontinued…but, I have 4 pair at home in the closet to be safe). The Leona has been my racing shoe for 3 years with no blisters or issues. They aren’t very cushy, but super stable and bomb proof for my feet.
Not only was the blister bothering me, my heart rate monitor strap on my chest was bugging the me. I had recently pushed it down around my waist. I was planning on ditching the HR monitor and switching shoes at Porcupine.
I was also interested to see where Ty was. This is one good thing about an out and back course. You get to size up your competition at the turnaround. I made my way across Devil’s Canyon Road (1 mile from the turnaround). No Ty. I crossed the road, and descended the meadow to the dirt road (a half mile out). No Ty. Sweet. I was about a quarter mile out and met Ty on the dirt road at 8:53pm. Nice. He was not that far ahead. We did a little high five as we passed. I knew Ty would be hammering once he hit the downhill past Devil’s Canyon Road. He’s super-competitive and he would make me work my rear off to catch him.
I approached Porcupine Ranger Station hollering out instructions to my Dad…
“Ditch the empty Gu packets in my bottle pouches! Refill bottles with cold water! I can’t stand the Gu2o mix! I’m not using the bottles in my drop bags, just water! I need my other shoes too!”
They shuffled me into the Ranger Station shed, which was packed with people. I was so focused I didn’t even see who was there. I wanted to get in and out. I weighed 156. Three pounds heavy. I’ll take it. I was retaining a little water from salt intake and abundance of water I consumed on the climb to get my hydration caught back up. But, it was paying off, I felt strong.
I guess the Footbridge had radioed Porcupine about my weight loss, because the aid station captain kept probing me, “You’d tell us if something was up, right Jeff?! Are you feeling okay?”
Giddyup! Bronco Billy wants to ride, aid station lady! (I didn’t actually say that, she would have thought I was delirious and pulled me for sure.) I was definitely ready to roll. Now Ty was the conejo.
I ditched everything but gels in my waist pack, put on my lights, as my mom threaded my iPod headphone chord through my jersey. I quickly swapped my orthotics into the Montrail’s, downed two cups of noodle soup, tied an extra long sleeve jersey around my waist and left at 8:57pm with fire in my eyes and 10 minutes to make up.
On my way back and over Devil’s Canyon Road, I started thinking about how I should try to catch him. I decided to run smooth and relaxed in the fading daylight and not push too hard until Spring Marsh. It would be dark by then, that 10-mile section from Spring Marsh to the Footbridge is technical and I had confidence in my light set-up for hammering downhill at night. The Petzl Myo XP on my head and the Tikka XP around my waist. It’s really bright and allows smooth, non-bouncing, hands-free light.
Due to family time conflicts with my wife and kids and running my own business, I’ve found a good time to train was at night after the family was asleep. I had run 2-3 hour night trail runs nearly every Friday night from 11pm until whenever. Plus, various night maintenance runs during the week pretty much all year. I was very comfortable functioning at night. I figured I had a slight advantage, so, I needed to use it.
On the way to Elk Camp I met the 3rd place runner, at least 5-6 miles back. Good. Not close. I just needed to focus on Ty. I had to switch on my lights a couple miles before Elk Camp.
As I started to pass runners coming up, they kept giving me time differences. However, this is an inaccurate way to gauge because they are hiking uphill and we’re running downhill. I love that everyone tries to help, it’s super cool, but I knew not to rely on this info. For example, I had a runner tell me “he’s 15 minutes ahead,” and 100 yards later another runner said “4 minutes.”
I was relying on the aid station captains with the clipboards. However, I passed Tim Turk (from Ashland, Oregon), who gave me a smart way to know how far I was behind Ty. He said at 10:21 (time we’d been out at this point), Ty was at the muddy section. So, I crossed the muddy section at 10:29 and knew I was about 8 minutes back. Thanks Tim, that was a smart and accurate way to relay the info, brutha.
I arrived Elk Camp at 9:50pm with Ty 8 minutes ahead still. I downed more Raman, refilled my bottles and pushed on to Spring Marsh.
I started thinking about Spring Marsh’s broth soup. Oh, it’s the best on the course; it’s a broth with a little bit of rice in the bottom of the cup. Mainly broth. Super salty. Yummy. I got into Spring Marsh at 10:30pm, downed two cups of broth and left with 10 minutes to make up on Ty. I was getting anxious.
I was feeling really good, I was fully hydrated, and the temps were holding and comfortable. I was running in a sleeveless jersey and gloves. I was sweating, but not much at the current night temps. Skies were clear. No threat of storms coming. Giddyup! It was time to put the hammer down if I was going to catch Ty. This was my chance. I needed to catch and pass him by Footbridge or he’d be hard to drop up the long climb to Dry Fork.
I ran the technical 6.5-mile section to the Narrows hard, at times a little reckless, but I felt motivated. I love this hard course. I wanted the record. I wanted to come back next year. “You can’t come back to Bighorn if you don’t win. You can’t come back to Bighorn if you don’t win.” Jennifer’s little motivator was whispering in the back of my head. Thanks, baby.
I hauled into the Narrows and immediately asked what Ty’s lead was. They said, “he just left, he’s 1 minute in front of you.” Sweet Lord Almighty! Awesome. Oh man, was I fired up now. I downed a cup of broth and went out of the Narrows at 11:40pm like a panther, ready to pounce.
I had been thinking of how I would pass him if I caught him. It was going to take a little “stategery.” Tom Neilson was the answer.
I remembered a story Rod Bien told me about a veteran California ultrarunner named Tom Nielson. Tom is in his late 40s and has been in the Top 10 at Western States 100 several times. The story goes like this: At Western one year, he had overtaken a competitor at night by flipping off his headlamp and only using his handheld light pointed at the trail directly in front of his feet until he was right up on the runner and said, “on your left,” flipped on his light, passed them, and dropped them.
I knew of his wily ways from Miwok 100k last season because he pulled a similar tactic on me. I had passed Tom, but he quickly caught back up to me on a long gravel road climb in the last 10 miles. He cruised along with me for a while, and then put the hammer down for 300-400 yards to put a big gap on me. Then, settled into the same pace again. By the time I figure it out, the damage was done. By doing so, he’d broken me mentally from keeping contact with him. Smart move.
So, that was the plan…I was going to pull a Tom Neilson. It was the perfect place to pull it too. The 3.5-mile section from the Narrows to the Footbridge is a series of steep downhill and switchback descents with at least half a dozen rolling 40-100 yard uphill sections. It’s curvy, wooded and in a tight canyon of granite boulders and cliff bands. If I passed him and put the hammer down I could leave him in his little bubble of light and he would have to bring it to keep contact with me.
When I caught up with Ty, he was hiking on a flat section at the bottom of a steep descent I was coming down. I quickly flipped off my headlamp, used my momentum off the downhill to blow by him at sub-8 minute pace and casually asked him “how you doin’ man?”…he replied, “hangin’ in there” and I quickly flipped on my headlamp and left him in his little bubble of light.
I ran hard on the curvy uphill section and then immediately into rollers and down some steep switchbacks. I pushed hard to the Footbridge, running every uphill section and descending fast over the next 3 miles. He hadn’t followed.
I knew I needed to put a gap and get in and out of the Footbridge aid before he arrived. Ty later told me at the finish that when I blew by him, he said to himself, “I just had my butt handed to me.” Perfect. That’s what I wanted him to think. Thanks, Tom Neilson!
I ran into Footbridge (mile 66) at 12:17am, weighed 153, ate a whole banana, got my gel from my drop bag, water, and got hiking up “The Wall” to Bear Camp. I was really motivated now and pushed the pace. I needed to put some cushion on Ty and fast. The climb up to Bear Camp is super-steep, 2200 feet in 3.5 miles.
At one point as you come up into an upper sagebrush meadow, you can see down the steep section you just came up. Ty’s light popped out of the scrub oaks below. Still only 5 minutes back probably. Dang. I ran every section that was remotely runnable and was power hiking hard on any steeps.
I hiked into Bear Camp at 1:17am to find the same scenario as last year. Everyone in their sleeping bags. That’s okay, I just need water. I helped myself and got out of there.
The next section is 6.5 miles uphill to Cow Camp. I was going on only gels every 15 minutes from the Footbridge and they were getting old. After a quick water refill at the spring, I was soon passing Head Dunk Tank, not too far from Cow Camp aid.
I hiked up into Cow Camp, refilled water and ate 5 or 6 orange wedges. Oh man! That was good! I left there at 2:55am and hit the 4WD double track to Dry Fork.
Last year, I thought I was lost on this section and was freaking out. Not this year, I knew I just stayed on the double track up to Dry Fork. I was feeling good and running a lot with short hike breaks.
Dry Fork is up on a ridge on a gravel road on the horizon and you can see it from 3 or 4 miles out, like a space station…the white tent glowing in the night. It was a dim glow at first. But, I knew when they spotted my lights, because the place got considerably brighter. They were getting ready. One of the aid station staff at Dry Fork later told me that they normally go to a cabin and sleep. However, they kept getting radio messages that Ty and I were on record pace and I was speeding up. They had opted to stay put and wait for my arrival.
As I approached Dry Fork, I could see my Dad’s cowboy hat silhouette against the tent craning to see who was behind the light. I gave a little “yee-haw” and he let out a big yell. He yelled, “how ya feelin’?” and I replied, “I think I’m gonna go after that record!” I was smelling the barn now with less than 18 to go.
My parents weren’t supposed to come to Dry Fork in the middle of the night. I told them to go to the motel and sleep and meet me at the finish. When they went to bed at 10:30pm, my Mom said to my Dad, “If Jeff can run 100 miles through the night, we can get up at 2:30am and crew him at Dry Fork.” Aren’t Mom’s great? They never quit worrying about you, even when your 34.
My Dad’s getting the hang of the crewing thing, as this is his second time (my brother and Dad crewed me at Wasatch in ’04). Before Wasatch, my folks didn’t fathom what I was talking about when I was explaining these crazy long trail races called ultramarathons. You really have to crew for someone at a 100 miler to fully appreciate and understand what it’s about. He knows firsthand and I think he’s hooked. Being a seasoned crewer, he had heard my water only request at Porcupine Aid and had already filled my bottles with water only at Dry Fork to save me time.
I went into the heated tent to weigh-in. Oh, this is bad. You’re perfectly acclimated to the cool night air and you go into a heated tent to weigh-in and get your drop bag. It really messes with your body temperature.
I stepped on the scale…109. What?! 109? The lady started to write it down when it soaked in. I was like, “that’s not right!” She shuffled me off and quickly set the dial on the scale to “0” and I weighed 154. Better.
I grabbed some gels and water and got going at 4:17am. The sun came up on the 5-mile section to Upper Sheep Creek. I arrived Upper Sheep at 5:20am, ate some orange wedges again and took off to cross Sheep Creek and climb “The Haul”—the last climb on the course—1400 feet in less than a mile.
I was about two-thirds of my way up, had my head down taking a gel, when I heard something that made me look up. A moose blocking my path at 80 yards. A big female standing broadside in the meadow next to the trail. I quickly scouted my escape route, as moose can be extremely aggressive, especially if there are young ones around and this one was female.
I had a stand of pines 40 yards to my right, parallel to the trail. I yelled. Her hackles stood up on her back. Great, she wasn’t budging. I started thinking; “this moose is going to keep me from the record!” I picked up a rock and heaved it in her direction and yelled again. The rock bounced 20 yards in front of her. She snorted and started to trot across the trail toward the stand of pines. She came to a walk and slowly made her way to the pines and stood just inside the first layer and stared at me. I started hiking again and quickly topped out the ridge for the final descent into the Tongue River Canyon.
With the moose behind me, I started the steep descent to the trailhead and the final gravel road section to the finish. I came off the trail into the Tongue River Canyon Trailhead Aid at 6:37am.
The aid station staff had just arrived and everything was still in the truck. They were panicked. They said, “you’re going to get the record!” and I said “heck, yeah! I just need water in one bottle and any fruit you might have.” The man frantically ripped open a water jug and poured me a bottle full while the lady quickly half peeled an orange. She gave me the half-orange and I got moving again, eating while I ran.
I ran the gravel road back to Dayton, totally pumped. I hit the paved road in town and entered Scott Park with a big “Yee-haw!” and my Dad yelling back. I came across the line in a new course record time of 20 hours, 24 minutes, 28 seconds. It was awesome. First thing I did was call Jennifer to tell her she and the kids were coming to Bighorn next year!
My Support Crew. Thanks to my wife, Jennifer, and kids, Benjamin and Annie…their patience with my crazy training at all hours and their presence in spirit and prayers and happy thoughts coming to me from Seattle. I know they wanted to be there (Jennifer barely slept Friday night). The Senator (Chris), and The Colonel (Sean), my parents and the race directors, staff and volunteers at Bighorn. They put on a hometown, stellar event, Wyoming-style. And all the Central Oregon ultrarunners, who are all so supportive and great training partners. It’s an awesome community we have.
My Sponsors. A big thanks to Patagonia for the gear and Footzone of Bend for my shoes and nutritional products—Teague, Super Dave, and the Footzone crew for my crazy requests and constant brainstorming of ways to improve my racing in their shop. Or, just listening to me when I have some new crazy idea.
Note on Central Oregon. We had a great showing, Sean Meissner won the 50 miler and Chris Kraybill came in 7th in his 50-mile debut. Also, Ryan Ness got 3rd place in the 30k. Ryan, Sean, Chris and I do a lunch tempo run out of the Footzone every Wednesday. It was cool to see such a strong showing from my Central Oregon homeys. Also, Rob Cain from Ashland broke into the top 10 with a 10th place finish in the 100 miler. Oregon was representin’!
I’m so pumped to get the record! I’ve thought about it for a year. It was the best race I’ve had yet. I feel very blessed to have come out on top and still be healthy and uninjured.
Big Mountain Aid Station, talking briefly about how I feel with Eric Sach from Seattle Running Company. Photo by Jennifer Browning.
Benjamin “little bronco billy” Browning preparing to make his way to the next crew stop. Photo by Jennifer Browning.
Lambs Canyon Aid Station at mile 53.1 where I’d just come out of the hottest section of the course where temps topped in the upper 90s. Picked up Sean as a pacer here. Many runners had been throwing up or dealing with nausea (due to the heat) at this station. Photo by Jennifer Browning.
Sean and I coming into Upper Big Water Aid Station at mile 61.6. The heat of the day was finally over. Photo by Glenn Tachiyama.
Upper Big Water was a drop bag site where my Dad and brother Joel helped get our night gear together (switching to a pack and new bottles). They were an excellent crew, and paramount in getting us in and out of key checkpoints quickly. Photo by Glenn Tachiyama.
With our gear situated, we were heading to the aid station table (my Dad following with water bottles) for some quick calories and then back on the trail to climb up to Dog Lake. Photo by Glenn Tachiyama.
Jennifer and Benjamin (sacked out on mommy’s lap) at the post-race dinner. Photo by Jeff Browning.
At the post-race awards after we received our Sub-24 hour belt buckles and they hold a “special” ceremony: The induction into the “Royal Order of the Crimson Cheetah.” Pretty funny stuff. We received Burger King/Spider Man crown as they read a poetic yet humorous speech and made us kneel (ouch!) and get tapped on the shoulder with a wooden staff by a man in a crimson cape. It was quite comical. Photo by Jennifer Browning.
Wasatch Mountains, Utah
September 11-12, 2004
A Little Background
For those who are not familiar with ultra running races, this footrace starts NE of Salt Lake City and runs the Wasatch Range south to Midway, Utah, near Heber City. It consists mainly of very rocky old sheep and single track trail and 4WD and ATV roads (if you can call them roads) with a few highway miles to link it all together point to point for 100 miles. Most of the miles are run at elevations above 8,000 feet and hits the high point at mile 78 at 10,480 feet.
This race is one of the 4 oldest hundreds in the U.S. This year marked the 25th Anniversary of the race and is part of the Grand Slam Series (the Grand Slam is running and finishing the 4 oldest 100 mile races in an 11 week span).
This race is extremely steep and technical, and boasts 26,824 ft. of elevation gain and 26,050 ft. of loss over 100 miles. This year’s finishing rate was 56%. 230 started, 131 finished. The race starts at 5am on Saturday and you must be finished by 5pm on Sunday (36 hours). Normally, the weather can range from 25 degrees to 100 degrees.
However, this year the forecast was for a heat wave to hit Salt Lake City and the Wasatch Range on race weekend. The weather on race day topped out in the upper 90s and only got into the upper 50s at night. So, it made for a challenging afternoon and a perfect night.
The Race
My plan for this race was to attempt to break 24 hours and get the coveted Crimson Cheetah Belt Buckle. I knew it was a hard goal to set for myself, but what good are goals if they are easily attained, right? My race day plan was to go out harder in the cool morning and cruise the middle part of the course when the heat hit, then push hard the last 20 after Catherine’s Pass (the high point of the course). I knew to break 24, I’d have to stay on my hydration and nutrition and never get so behind I couldn’t compensate quickly to turn it around. The race start was in the upper 60s and clear with a slight breeze.
We headed out at 5am with headlamps. I started out in the upper quarter of the pack. The plan was to work my way up into the top 20 in the first 5 miles before the first major climb (4,000 feet in 5 miles). This proved to be an easy task, as the trail was wide and well traveled and easy to pass in the dark. After chatting with Montrail teammate Krissy Sybrowsky briefly (the eventual women’s winner) and a quick “hi” to her husband Brandon, I worked my way up further.
I settled into the first climb behind several guys who seemed to be going at the pace that I was comfortable and we all settled into the power hike pace for the next 4,000 feet. It started to get light a bit at 6:30am and by 6:45, my headlamp was stashed away and we were nearing the first natural spring before Chinscrapper, a gnarly steep section of the climb through a rocky scree-filled bowl to gain a 9,000 foot ridge. The spring was barely putting out any water. I filled one of my bottles about halfway and decided to get moving due to the slow process of it.
Once I gained the ridge, it rolls for a while and I was able to do some running and power hiking transitions. I came upon the second natural spring (which we were told at the pre-race meeting on Friday was dry) and it was gushing water. I quickly filled both my 28 oz. bottles and got moving again.
I cruised along and into the first aid station at 13 miles, filled my bottles and continued to the next aid (Francis Peak) at mile 18.7 and the first spot I would see crew. My brother Joel and my friend Sean Meissner, who is a training partner and another Montrail runner who would be pacing me from mile 53 to the finish, were ready and waiting with my stuff. I made it into Francis Peak at 8:49am (11 minutes ahead of my pace chart). Sean and Joel shuffled me through, and after some green machine juice and a banana, gel refills, and my MP3 player and 3 minutes burned, I was off.
The next section was mainly a dirt 4WD road for a few miles before it starts hitting some steep up and downs on single track. I settled into pushing the ups hard and running relaxed and quick on the downs while jamming to some bluegrass on my MP3. The next few remote aid stations passed quickly and it was starting to get hot as I made my way to Big Mountain Pass aid stations (the next crew stop) at mile 39.4.
This station is cool, because you can see it for a few miles out as you descend on it. There are a lot of people yelling and ringing cow bells. It has a sweet single track descent the last few miles. As you switchback through some scrub oaks, your crew can get glimpses of you coming in. The whole scene got me pumped up and I hauled on the descent into the aid station to my first weigh-in checkpoint at 1:02pm. I was 155 pounds, 3 pounds heavier than pre-race weigh-in. Excellent. I was staying on my hydration and food intake, important, because it was really starting to get hot.
Sean ushered me over to my stuff and family: Mom and Dad, Joel and my wife, Jennifer and son, Benjamin…who I might add, looked like Pigpen from Charlie Brown. He’d been playing in the dirt. Nice, that’s my boy!
Sean and Joel refilled my waste pack with Gu and Succeed (electrolyte pills) and ditched my MP3 player (was very sick of it by now because I’d listened to every song on it 3 times…I need a bigger memory chip). I downed a mango juice and a quarter of an avocado/cheese/butter/sourdough sandwich. I walked through the station while eating and drinking and got moving again.
As I left Big Mountain, I really started to feel the heat hitting, so, I stuck to my game plan and went easy. My right knee was really starting to bother me too (little bout of runner’s knee the last 3 weeks). I took 600mg of ibuprofen, put on my knee strap and ignored the pain. Got passed by quite a few runners in the 8-mile section to Alexander Ridge aid station. I knew I was going to be cutting it close on having enough water. The heat was kicking hard. The ridge is exposed and SW facing and the sun is just beating on you in the afternoon. I had 56 oz. of water and ran out about 15 minutes from the aid station.
However, others were running out sooner and I started to reel some of the runners in who had passed me. I got to Alexander Ridge aid station at 2:56pm (right on my pace). I was bonking just a bit from running out of water. So, I stayed an extra minute to down 3 glasses of Poweraid and a banana and melon. Drank another glass of water, dumped one on myself, put ice in my hat and took off again. I had run the next section in training, when I came out with Rod Bien for Outdoor Retailer a few weeks earlier. So, I was happy to know what was coming.
The large amount of liquid I consumed was starting to kick back in and I felt hydrated and started feeling good. Since I sweat A LOT, I had been taking up to 2-3 Succeed pills an hour through the hot part of the afternoon, so my salt intake was fine.
NOTE on Succeed/Salt and calories: This season I really started to listen to my body by my nausea. If I felt any nausea, I would immediately pop a Succeed tab. It always went away after a salt tab. So, I took that as a sign my body needed salt. Sometimes I would take a gel packet and a salt tab together at the hint of nausea. This is what I did throughout this race and I never really felt too much nausea (and never threw up either). I also never went more than 25 minutes without some sort of calorie intake, whether gel (Gu) or aid station food (depending on where I was on the course).
I pushed it down into Lambs Canyon aid station (mile 53.1) and came up out of the creek bed and scrub oaks (right before the gravel road climb up to the aid station) to see Jennifer standing there.
Oh, she was like a shimmering oasis.
She was holding a bottle of water, but quickly informed me I could not drink it, only dump it on myself. Cool with me, I dumped it all over my head, torso, and legs. I swear I heard a sizzling sound! It was SO hot. As we hiked up to the station, she said I looked good and continued to tell me that I was one of the only ones who looked okay and that I was in the top 10.
She said everyone else was coming up hammered from the heat. As I topped the gravel climb, I gave a “YEE-HAWWW!” only to hear my brother Joel echo his signature Crewmaster J hillbilly yell…sweet. He crewed for me at White River 50 Miler in July too and we always yell in and out of stations where we see each other. Gets me pumped up. Nice to have some country boy yelling going on, reminds me of my Missouri roots. Gotta let Bronco Billy out for some roustin’ occasionally.
I arrived into the aid station at 4:09 (9 minutes slow on my pace chart). This was another weigh-in check point, my weight was 150 (2 pounds light). Not too bad considering the last 14 miles were an inferno. I downed a bunch of liquid, ice in the hat, banana, grapes, melon, and left with Sean as my pacer.
Sean and I transitioned between running and hiking up the paved road the few miles to the single track that takes us over Bear Ass Pass (1500 feet in 2 miles). We were now in the trees and this was great. I knew the bad heat was over. I had also trained this section and knew the climb and descent off the backside of the pass into Mill Creek Canyon. Sean and I pushed the pace up Bear Ass Pass and I let it loose a little on the descent. We picked a guy off on the descent and hit the road on the uphill to Upper Big Water aid station and picked off another.
With some more country boy yelling, we met my brother and Dad at Upper Big Water at mile 61.6 at 6:25pm (still 10 minutes slow on my pace). They had my drop bag out and my stuff ready. To get ready for night running, I switched to my Ultimate Wasp pack to carry gear and layers and ditched my waste pack. I still carried two handheld bottles instead of a water bladder because I find it easier to monitor my water intake by the hour with bottles. I get too lazy on hydration sipping on a bladder.
After some soup and Poweraid, we headed out on the climb to Dog Lake. This section is a wide single track trail with lots of runnable sections. We settled into hiking and running transitions up to Dog Lake. Next, the short descent after the lake, then the climb up to Desolation Lake. This climb was tough for me. I was bonking a little and going pretty slow. We got passed by someone on the climb. Oh well, still early. Race doesn’t start until after Brighton. Anyway, I was in a bit of a funk at this point. We got into Lake Desolation aid station at mile 66.9 at 7:55pm (30 minutes slow).
However, this was the best station. It was starting to get dark. So, while I ate and drank, the aid station staff got my lights, gloves out of my pack, and massaged my quads. We headed out and started the climb up to the 9,000+ foot ridge above. I started feeling better and came out of the funk once we gained the ridge. Low on calories, I suspect. This section runs at over 9,000 feet of nice rolling single track. I was feeling good again, and pushed it a bit.
We came into Scotts Peak aid station only 6 minutes slow on my pace goal. Nice. We now had a long fire road then highway descent into Brighton ski lodge. We settled into a nice efficient pace and spoke briefly about strategy for the remainder. I told Sean I thought it best if we didn’t “push” up Catherine’s Pass climb due to the high elevation and save my legs for all the downhills and smaller climbs in the last 22 miles after the pass. He agreed and we soon arrived into Brighton (mile 75.6) at 9:52pm.
Another weigh-in, weight 151. Good. Ate soup and drank Poweraid while my Dad massaged my quads. Headed out of Brighton and started the climb to Catherine’s Pass. Right at the beginning, Sean and I were following another runner and his pacer up a gravel road with are heads down and I looked up to realize that I thought we’d passed the trail. They said, “No, it’s this way.” However, I’d run it in training and was 95% sure we were wrong. I asked Sean to run down the hill to check. Sure enough, my memory served me correctly. We only wasted a few minutes. We quickly dropped those guys and continued up. Just below Lake Mary, we passed another runner and his pacer (he was sitting on a rock looking hammered). We continued up and got to the top at 10,480 feet with that runner right behind us (funny how getting passed makes you get a burst of energy). We quickly dropped off the other side into the steep singletrack descent and dropped them.
The remainder of the course is mainly downhill from Catherine’s Pass at mile 78. So besides 3 small climbs of 600, 800, and 800 feet respectively and a dozen smaller grunt climbs, the last 22 miles descends from 10,400 feet to 5700 feet. BAM! Come on quads, buck up! Lord, give me focus and strength (yes, praying is a good thing in such times.)
My quads (and right knee) were really hammered at this point, but I just kept pushing it and massaging them for about a minute at each aid station. Sean was leading the way and I was trying to stay on his heels. At midnight, Sean and I shouted a “happy birthday, Jenn!” Jennifer’s birthday was Sunday. (Yes, she’s an angel to let me do this on her birthday, I owe her BIGTIME. She’s getting presents for weeks to come.)
So, we quickly came through Pole Line Pass aid station at 83.3 and Rock Springs at 87.3 hitting my splits perfectly. As we left Rock Springs, I told Sean I wanted to put some in the bank on the 5.8 mile section to Pot Bottom (the final aid station). My original goal was to get there no later than 3:25am. I wanted to be there sooner, if possible.
As we left Rock Springs, Sean mentioned that all we had left was less than a half marathon, that we were under 13 miles to go. Sweet. He pushed the pace and I just concentrated on breathing and not falling. Right in the middle of “The Plunge” section (400 foot rocky, loose single track descent in a quarter mile), Sean says, “Use the hill, bitch.” I know it sounds terrible, but I started busting up laughing, as that is an old joke Jennifer and I use to use on each other when we were running down hills together to remind us to lean forward and use gravity. She had told Sean about it and he had saved it for the right time…perfect! In the words of my brother, Joel (and my 2-year old son, Benjamin), “Roll, homey!”
We arrived at Pot Bottom aid station at mile 93.1 at 3:06am. We asked how far in front of us the next runner was, they said “15 minutes,” no chance to catch them. So, I told Sean good work, downed some food and a coke and we left Pot Bottom at 3:08am with 6.9 miles to go. I was really smelling the barn now. Let’s get this thing over with.
From Pot Bottom, we had an 800 foot 4WD road climb in a little less than two miles. We humped up the road with a few sections of running and topped out quicker than I thought we would. Sean asked if this was the downhill and at first I said “no, couldn’t be,” but I’d run it in training and realized I didn’t recognize it in the dark.
I was excited now, I knew we had sub-24. I forgot my recently popped blister on my toe, sore quads, sore knee, sore IT band, everything. Sean stepped aside and let me lead and I let it go on the final 4 mile, 2500 foot descent on a rock-strewn ATV and single track trail. We popped out onto the paved road, 1 mile from the finish and Sean caught back up to me. He ran in front of me and said “Come, on, push it!” I was pushing, but couldn’t hang with him. So, I said, “Dude, I’m red-lining! My legs won’t turnover any faster!” We laughed and then looked ahead and saw another runner and pacer. Sean was saying let’s catch them and I thought, no way that’s another runner. But, they saw us and picked it up.
Sure enough, it turned out to be the runner just ahead of us in 5th place that had 15 minutes on us at Pot Bottom, he finished 76 seconds in front of me. Dang, if I’d known they were that close, I would have run the whole last hill. No way to know though. So, I continued into the lawn area and the last 100 yards to the finish at Homestead Resort. My official time was 23:32:09. Good enough for a 6th place finish. Only seven people made it under the 24 hour mark this year.
Sidenote: Krissy Sybrowsky came in 7th (17 minutes behind me) and became only the fifth woman in the history of the race to break 24 hours. She’s superfly tough. She ran the fastest split from the last aid station at Pot Bottom to the finish!
The race was awesome! Dave Terry, another Oregon runner, told me before the race that the one thing he’d learned after 6 finishes (this year was his 7th), was “respect the course.” Dave, that’s an understatement, dude. I’m so pumped to break 24 hours. It was SO hard and SO technical. My body is more thrashed than it’s ever been. It’s very humbling.
The entry into the Royal Order of the Crimson Cheetah is quite a comical ceremony. Fun stuff. The belt buckle is actually pretty cool. Happy to be done and recovering. Now I just have to get ready for 24 hours of Moab on my mountain bike in October. I’m on a 4-man team. No tough training for that, just fun.
Huge thanks to my family and crew, Montrail for the sweet shoes (Leona Divides rocked the house), all the gear from Footzone in Bend (Teague and the gang). I especially could not have done this without the prayer and support of my family: Jennifer, Benjamin, Mom and Dad and Crewmaster J (Joel) and my pacer, Sean. Sean did an awesome job pushing me to a great finish. He was excellent. Not much talking, all business (the way I like it). Kept me on my splits. I also have to give props to the Big Man Upstairs for the strength and focus to finish strong.
Peace and love,
Jeff