August 19, 2006
Blue Ridge Brutal 100+ mile ride

The winding roads of the Carolina mountains never fail to astound with their beauty but when you're trying to get somewhere in a hurry they can certainly put a damper on things. I rolled into the starting point about four minutes after the start. Almost a dozen other riders were getting ready at the time.

15 minutes late and I was off. I asked an officer which direction and he said "Thataway and make a left". The actual turn was two miles down the road but I made an immediate left which put me on course for Mt. Jefferson Park, which was to be a bonus climb at the end of the century ride. It seemed a bit fishy climbing so much so early. When I got to the park entrance, I descended back to the start. One other rider was just leaving so we rode together. We didn't plan on pushing it too hard to catch up with other riders. It would be a long day with an abundance of climbing.

Jim, the other late departee, was fresh off a multi-day riding trip in June in Colorado, his home state, but hadn't ridden since. The differences in our climbing were immediately apparent. He excelled at long climbs and I excelled at rolling hills and descents. The rides out west don't have many rolling hills. We caught a rider in the first ten miles and several more before the first aid staion. The ride entered the Blue Ridge Parkway and stayed there for about 15 miles. The Parkway is a bit different in Ashe county than around Asheville. You're riding on top of the world with scenic mountain vistas on both sides simultaneously. I hadn't ridden this portion before and hadn't driven it in many years.

At the exodus of the Parkway, I thought I spotted a friend, Bridgette, that I was going to ride with had I showed up on time. It wasn't her and I rode past. I looked back and she recognized me. It was Bridgette's stepmom. She told me Bridgette was 17 minutes ahead at the last aid station. Normally, this wouldn't be insurmountable but she is a very quick rider. I slammed on the gas to try to catch her but to no avail.

On an easier stretch, I experienced a near disaster when an enormous insect collided with my eye. Fortunately, I got my eyelid down in time but the impact jarred my contact and I thought my eyelid was bruised. I guess there isn't enough blood in the eyelid to bruise.

I did run into someone else. I heard a woman tell rider her name was Annette. I looked over and immediately recognized her as THE ultrarunner. I mentioned that my wife's name is Annette and that we missed her at Laurel Valley for the ultrarun. She inquired who I was and we rode and chatted until the 75/100 mile split. I guess I should be used to it by now but I'm still amazed at how friendly and accesible the elite riders and runners are, trail runners in particular. Annette is probably the top female trail runner in the country and she's as amiable as an old friend. In professional sports, egos tend to take over but not in the amateur circuit, where athletes hold real world jobs and still train just as hard or harder than the professionals.

We met up with another ultrarunning veteran, whom I met at the Mitchell Challenge this year. We discussed upcoming runs. He was trying to recruit runners for Iron Mountain and I was trying to recruit for Pitchell. Unfortunately, they landed on the same day. Iron Mountain is a 50 miler that uses a former section of the AT. Pitchell is a 67 miler on the MTS.

The ride climbed and dropped consistently. Level stretches were a rarity but so were steep climbs, until Buffalo Mountain. Annette warned me about it, saying it was a little like Snake, from Blood, Sweat and Gears. It started out innocuously enough but soared to a 13 or 14% grade and stayed there for a mile. Even Snake changed grades a bit but this was relentless and I was passed by two riders on the ascent. Thoughtfully, an aid station was placed at the top.

The ride continued on easier stretches but still climbed a good bit. Last year's ride took an old railroad grade but this year's added some hills. One of them was rather steep and the sun did get stronger by that time. I rolled across the finish in just over 7 hours. But the day wasn't over yet.

As a bonus, 25 riders would get to ride up to Mt. Jefferson. I was #9 on the waitlist but I figured my chances were pretty good at making the climb. As it turned out, only 12, including myself actually made the climb. It wasn't particulary steep but added 1454 ft. of climb. The published climb total was 12,250 + 300 I did accidentally + the 1454, for a total of 14,000 feet! I'm not sure their measurements are correct. It appears they overstated the climbing significantly.

I finally saw Bridgette just after I started the climb to Mt. Jefferson. She was being shuttled down so I had no chance of ever catching her. I'm not sure why they didn't allow riders to descend the mountain as it really wasn't very steep. If I do this ride next year, I'll be certain to make it there a bit earlier.

Raging Bull

August 12, 2006
Laurel Valley Whitewater Ultra

Laurel Valley is a point to point race. Unlike most, it has no aid stations. Anyone who starts is expected to go the entire 33-36 mile legth. It's advertised as 35+ miles. According to my map, it clocks in at just under 33 miles but others have determined the length to be 35, 36 and even 40 miles. The 40 mile guesstimate is most certainly off the mark but maps are often a bit off as well.

As a newby to the event, I was slated as a trail sweep as most newbies are. This means you have to stay at the back and encourage the back of the pack runners along and possibly aid or carry them or flag down a boat if necessary. The only time you passed a runner was to get ahead of them so that you could pace them.

I camped out at the finish line the night before so that I could be certain to make the shuttle to the start, which left at 5 AM. The race started at 6:30 with a steep climb up a staircase. The four trail sweeps got a briefing from Claude, the race director, and we left shortly after the others. One runner passed us 100 yards in. Last year's winner also started late.

Six miles in, we passed the first waterfall. This was about 15 feet tall and not even listed on the map. Despite hanging out for a few minutes at the falls, we came upon two runners. When they heard that we were the sweeps they took off quickly but it looked like we'd be in for a long day of primarily hiking. We hadn't run much at all and still caught up in just over six miles.

Richard, Sylvana and Dean were the other sweeps. Richard is a sub 3:00 marathoner so the pace was extremely frustrating for him. Sylvana had run two marathons with me so I had gotten to know her a bit previously. Dean is a strong ultramarathoner. I was the least experienced of the bunch. Richard started yelling. He was hit seven times by yellow jackets. I tried to avoid them but got one sting.

At eight miles we saw a very large waterfall, called Willow Creek Falls. This was the point where the run was supposed to get a bit tougher. The climbs got longer but the footing was solid. The trail wasn't as rocky as I'd expected. The run crossed four gorges, each with raging rivers and suspension bridges to cross them. The floorboards and handrails of the bridges were as slick as ice.

We heard about many steps. At the dinner I heard there were 7000 of them. In actuality, there were just 3000. Some of them were just built in to steep banks and some were more like staircases. Many were treacherously slick. Great care was necessary to prevent a nasty fall.

The rivers were spectacular! They were all white water flowing over and around boulders. The scenery everywhere was gorgeous and unspoiled. We saw a couple of boats on Lake Jocassee and luckily we didn't have to flag one down to pick up a sick runner. The weather was perfect. Last year's race saw 90+ degrees with high humidity. It was around 70 this year and felt wonderful until the rains came.

The rain came lightly at first but picked up and became a constant downpour. It never got to be torrential but we all got soaked. Again we caught up to the last runner. Going at her pace was extremely frustrating and she kept stopping to converse with us. It took an awful lot of patience but Richard and I took turns running with her and talking to and encouraging her. We had to drop back occasionally to vent our frustration. The rain only made it worse.

As time wore on, I gained an appreciation for this runner. She is 63 and has run Western States four times. That's the 100 mile race which generally draws the stiffest competition of all 100 milers. Just to finish is quite an accomplishment. She told many stories about the early days of ultrarunning. She's been an ultrarunner for 23 years. She's having to accept that her days of ultras are coming to an end because she cannot run fast enough to make cutoffs yet she can still keep going all day long. It's sad to see her career coming to an end but it's also very encouraging to see a 63 year old still trying.

We ran into some backpackers and checked out a map posted on the side of the trail. I assumed we still had a good number of miles to go, still thinking we were on a 13 hour pace. It appeared that we only had four more to go. This provided a boost and everyone picked up the pace. We came to another river but did not cross it. Instead, we followed it upstream where it crossed into North Carolina and we entered a fantastic patch of old growth forest. It stayed flat for a bit then started gaining altitude. We then came upon another fantastic waterfall. The view from the bridge was magnanimous! A boulder scramble led us to another bridge over the Whitewater river. This would be our last crossing. Now it would be just a climb out of the gorge.

The climb was arduous. It was rocky and involved much rockhopping. But it wasn't as difficult as we'd been warned it would be. Hikers from the finish area filtered down beside us. They had no idea how far we'd gone. That last climb was about an 800 foot change in altitude. At the top of the rocky section we got to the lower viewing platform for Whitewater Falls. From here it was about 200 steps to the top. This is truly a spectacular finish to a day's work. Whitewater Falls is a 400 foot cascade and is truly picturesque. After enjoying the view for a spell, Richard and I sprinted up the stairs since we didn't have much chance on the trail. We crossed the finish line at 11:50, much better than was anticipated. Next year, our entry fees will be waived as a thank you for being trail sweeps.

Raging Bull

July 29, 2006
Catherine's Fat Ass 50k run

The ride to northern Virginia was long but not arduous. I sampled a rail trail on the way up. Easy mountain biking souded like a good warmup for tomorrow's run anyway.

New Market is a small town. The only grocery stores were mom and pop joints with three aisles and the old style checkout-no barcode scanning. The food choices for breakfast were limited.

I camped at a Nat'l Forest Visitor center that I thought was the trailhead for the race. In the morning, a Ranger asked if I'd spent the night but he was cool about it and simply said I wasn't supposed to do it.

When the other runners showed up, virtually all of them were wearing shirts from races, most of them 100 milers. This was a running club event so only the hardiest runners would be involved. This was not the place for an ultra newby. I surveyed the crowd and picked out about a half dozen that I thought I could beat of the 70 assembled.

I overheard conversations about running 100 miles two weeks ago and following it up with a 50k today. I suppose rest is for the weak. The youngest guy at the event and I talked for quite a while because we were not in the veteran cliques. He told me how he ran 5 miles in 25 minutes and 5k's in 14 and change. I, in turn, run just over half as fast. How would I compete?

The course is described as mountain trails, some gravel roads, some creekbeds, some rocks. some singletrack, some anthills, it has three hills but they're kind of long. A couple of things stand out-creekbeds and anthills. You don't generally run in a creekbed and how big can these anthills be? There was also the story of a mountain goat who requested a toll for passage.

The race began with the usual slow trot and fifty yards in it claimed it's first casualty. Rocks were everywhere and one bad step can put dirt on your face. I tried something that I hadn't before. I actually passed people early instead of falling into cadence with the slower runners. I didn't realize how many I had passed.

The first climb was quite rocky but not too steep. I wanted to pass more but the trail was narrow and I had no idea what was coming up. I thought we'd reached the top as the trail leveled out so I sped around several runners, turned the corner and was confronted with a 25% grade. I expected an extended downhill and I got a virtual wall! From there, the trail got worse. The rocky trail turned into just plain rock and kept the insane grade. This was where I endured my first bee sting in ten years. A yellow jacket got me on the ankle. Ankles don't really mean much to a runner anyway. I stayed in front of the group for some time. Eventually, we did reach the top and enjoyed a fantastic overlook. From there, the terrain leveled out and you could see dirt between the rocks again.

After starting out fast, I experienced pain in my left shoulder. That went away but then I got a pain in my right shoulder. This one didn't go away until I stopped running. My body just wasn't ready to step it up that much so soon. Several runners passed me but that matters very little early on.

The first aid station came up at seven miles and earlier than I expected. I thought I was only at five miles. The race continued on gravel roads for a while. I was passed up by eight more runners and settled in with a guy named David. He went by Sniper. He was an experienced runner and soon I would find out that he was a very generous runner as well. David paced me perfectly. We didn't allow another runner to pass us for several hours.

After the gravel roads, we entered the yellow trail. It started out easy until we hit the stream bed. The trail climbed through a boulder-strewn creek bed for about a mile. The rocks were slick and the trail was difficult to follow. We made good time simply hiking as running was far too dangerous in the treacherous rock bed. The trail then led into a muddy section and then on to a sun soaked wider trail.

A side trail led to a lookout and we doubled back to the main trail. A phrase was duct taped on a tree to ensure we took the side trail. A runner two minutes behind us had a run-in with a rattlesnake at the junction.

As I was saying, David was quite generous. He shared his electrolytes with me as well as invaluable information. I'm looking to try a couple of hundred milers and he gave me inside information regarding foot placement and supplements. The manner in which your foot strikes becomes more important in the longer runs. The body can only absorb so much shock and then all of the joints and muscles respond with pain.

The gravel road returned and led us to Catherine's furnace, where lead was smelted during the Civil War. This was the beginning of the infamous purple trail. This trail started out moderately and gradually increased in steepness until it got downright ridiculous. One runner had stopped just short of passing out and another did pass out on this trail. Two older runners passed us near the top but at that point we did not care. We were just intent on getting to the top. The descent was fast and furious and I nearly took a spill.

David chilled out at the last aid station to calm his stomach. Of course, he had just run a 100 miler two weeks previously. I believe this was his 13th ultra this year. Now that is true endurance! I power walked the last hill and caught the two runners who had passed us. At the top, it leveled out for two miles. The trail became littered with anthills. These were not your typical anthills, however. They were two to three feet across and over a foot tall, but these were the small ones. One was an eight by six foot oval, towering over three feet high! Dozens of them lined the trail.

The rocky singletrack from the beginning returned. I live for singletrack descents so I put some space between myself and the two runners in back of me. I reached the point where the mountain goat attacked runners two years ago. David was the first to be accosted. The goat tried to headbutt him and licked his leg while he ran. This was easy terrain for a mountain goat but extremely challenging for a human. There was no siting of the goat this year.

I reached a brief reprieve from the technical section. Soft dirt was under my feet and only one rock present. I found that rock with my foot and fell forward. I landed on my hands, laughed it off and continued running. I sped past another runner and came to a junction. I had David with me for most of the race so a wrong turn wasn't a possibility but on my own I chose the wrong direction. I let out a few &@#*$'s and waited for a runner to pass by. I only lost a few minutes and then followed the previous runner and passed him up. I had fresh legs at 30 miles. That had never happened before. I expected to be limping across the finish because of the heat and humidity. I owe it to David for his pacing and electrolytes.

I crossed the finish at 7:21. The time doesn't sound impressive but this was a ridiculous course. I was 21st. Only 52 finished out of nearly 70. This was the first time I finished above the 50% point. This was a long drive for me but I will be back for more next year. Hopefully for the 100 miler.

Raging Bull