Bishop High Sierra 50 mi

The name of these combined races is Bishop High Sierra Ultra races and fun run. One might easily be convinced that the word high was a reference to the elevation one can expect out on the course, or one might conjecture that it is a reference to the condition of the minds of those going up there to run an ultra at that elevation, but this year it would clearly be an indicator of the record high temperatures one would experience out on the course. We arrived at the Whiskey Creek Restaurant in Bishop tired after driving 5 hours North from Southern California through the high desert in temperatures hovering around 100 degrees F. Of course, we were comforted by the knowledge that we would spend a longer amount of time than that out on the course the next day without the distraction of air conditioning, cushion seats, or combustion engine. Dinner was in full swing when we arrived. We passed several scraggly looking fellows on our way in who asked us how to get to Whiskey Creek. We were somewhat confused by this until we realized that they were ultra runners and they weren't asking us how to get to the restaurant, which they clearly had already found. The spaghetti, salad, and cake was just the right meal after a long drive in the hot sun and good preparation for the upcoming event. Usually when one thinks of this kind of meal prepared for such a large number of people one expects food of a lesser quality. That was not the case here. It was absolutely delicious. I'm not much for junk food, but the cake was fantastic, as well. After finishing a huge serving of spaghetti and salad, I ended up eating two pieces. No sooner had we finished our meal when they began to raffle off more prizes than one could keep track of. It went on for long enough that both Ted Liao, a fellow member of the SoCal Trail Headz and I had time to explain to each other that neither of us had ever won anything in a raffle. Of course, within minutes we both had the proverbial mud in our eye when I won a pair of Injini socks and a pair of Dirty Girl gaiters and Ted won two pairs of Injini socks and a pair of Inov8 trail running shoes donated by Sage to Summit a fantastic one-stop shop for trail runners in Bishop that won Runner's World Specialty Running Store Runner's Choice Awards 2007 - Best in California. My socks were large and his were small and large. We both wear medium. OK, you can't win them all. We spent a while chatting with other runners and catching up on stories. The pope of SoCal ultra running was in attendance. Shaking Fred Pollard's hand is akin to kissing the ring. What ultra would be complete without him. I would see him out on the course with Xy, the Dirty Girl herself, a fellow member of the SoCal Trail Headz, the next day. In the morning, we were some of the first to arrive at the start/finish area just as the sun was rising up in the East. Runners and their people were arriving in droves now as we checked in and wandered around admiring the view. It was relatively cool, hovering around 60 degrees F, but we knew what was in store for us that day. The time went by quickly, as the time before a race usually does. We were soon lined up at the start at shortly before 6 as Marie (the RD) bade us to be silent as she prayed, referencing the words of Paul, for our sanity, er, the strength to run the race that lay before us. I stood there, toeing the line, literally, as Marie counted down the last few seconds until the start. Unfortunately, I was holding three hand bottles, two of which belonged to Beiyi, a fellow member of the SoCal Trail Headz. She had chosen to make use of the outhouse shortly before the start and had still not returned. With less than a minute to go, I placed them on the table near the starting line and decided to run over after the start to let her know where she could find them. She showed up just after the start and I was able to relay the location of them as we headed out on the course. There were droves of runners heading out together for the first two or three miles. I spent the first half hour trying to decide what pace I should set. This got me looking around at others who were nearby. I was trying to determine which race they were running and whether the pace they were starting out at looked like one they could maintain for the full distance. With the help of Ted, I decided early that my pace was too conservative and picked it up a notch. I'm a "set a pace and hold it kind of guy" so it's important for me to figure out early what pace I think I should have. At the end I would decide that picking it up was a good call, but at several points along the way I questioned this decision. The course was very exposed and flanked by towering snow-covered peaks. The wide, sandy and rock-strewn fireroad that was the course was forgiving enough to allow one the luxury of looking around and enjoying the view for long stretches. The trail surface and the heat reminded me of Joshua Tree. The climb, however, reminded me more of the San Bernardino mountain trails found just West of Joshua Tree. Both are areas I spend a lot of time running in. I felt right at home. We had started out at 4500 feet and began a relentless climb that would continue for miles. Suddenly, a runner was heading back down at a good downhill clip. A few quick words were exchanged, we both thought the other was looking good, funny you never share these kinds of sentiments while walking around on the street, and he was gone. I couldn't believe that we were out far enough for anyone to be returning already. Two others passed in quick succession shortly before I reached the 20 mile turnaround point. That worried me. The question came up in my mind again, was I going out too fast. I still had another 10+ miles of climb ahead of me, not to mention the 30 miles remaining after that. In what seemed like an even shorter amount of time, one by one, 4 men and 2 women passed me going the other direction. These were the front runners of the 50K version of the race. I arrived at the Edison Loop aid station which served as the turnaround point for the 50K as well as grand central station for two out and backs for the 50-mile race, and decided it was time to put some real food in my stomach because it was starting to heat up and I was the only runner in sight. This was the beginning of the largest intake of watermelon in one day that I have ever had. Does watermelon count as real food? The nagging question returned, of course, was I going out too fast for the uphill portion of the race? There still remained a tough 3 mile out and back to the Overlook aid station that went from 8000 ft up to 9400 ft before returning to 8000 ft where we would remain, undulating between 8000 ft and 8400 ft for the 6-mile out and back to Bishop Creek Lodge before returning to Edison Loop aid station for the 15-mile, 3500 ft descent to the finish. There were actually two patches of snow and ice that had to be traversed on the short out and back to the Overlook and as hot as it was I was tempted to stop and make snow angels. Fortunately, recent incidents I had associated with snow kept me focused. I slipped and slid my way across these two hundred yard long patches as quickly as I could in both directions. These drifts were 3 feet deep in some place. The out and backs were fun. I lost count of the number of runners whose paths I crossed in both directions. These out and backs in the middle of the race are nice touches that provided comfort via familiarity and allowed you some brief interaction with other runners along the course. It's amazing how much bonding seems to occur in these brief encounters, or was that the heat affecting me? All the way to McGee Creek I would stop at each aid station and load up on watermelon, flat coke (Was it possible? I hadn't had a soda since at least August of last year), and salted anything I could get my hands on, to include bananas, strawberries, and potatoes. I even dumped salt in my bottles and chewed on S!caps along the way because I couldn't seem to be able to swallow them anymore. I had decided that two bottles would be quite sufficient for this race, as the aid stations were never really very far apart. I had a two bottle waist pack just in case and one hand bottle. I never needed more than two bottles between aid stations, so one of the bottles in the pack remained empty the entire time. The aid station people were most helpful in filling these bottles as I emptied their watermelon bowl, looking over my shoulder for my queue to leave; Ted coming into view behind me. Ted ran an incredible race considering he ran the PCT 50 the week before, along with Old Goats, Leona, and Wild Wild West just prior to that. The fluids in my bottles was less than satisfactory as far as flavor because they would warm up so quickly. I don't like icy drinks, but I don't like above body temperature Heed, either. I decided it was a small price to pay for such a fantastic run and used the icy bucket with sponge found at each aid station to keep my body temperature down instead of the ice cubes the aid station people offered to put in my bottles. Twice I took the ice they offered and stuffed it under my hat. The first time I had to get rid of it shortly afterwards because it was giving me frostbite on my scalp. The second time was at the last aid station and it remained under my hat until well after the finish. You see, the temperature continued to climb as we descended into the heat found at the lower elevation. The descent was lonely. I kept seeing the pink marker ribbons that were attached to everything imagineable along the way; rocks, poles, trees (when they could be found), bushes, staked into the ground (early on I even saw the word pink in an unexpected place), so I knew I wasn't lost. But, I knew that we had to take a turn towards the end and follow a different trail to the finish. I kept thinking I had missed this turn, as I saw no one for a long time. It was an anxious concern that was a little disconcerting. Even after finishing I don't recall explicitly seeing this turn. I must have missed seeing it at one of the aid stations. I had taken off in the wrong direction so many times in the beginning, only to be corrected by the aid station people that I got in the habit of asking which way I needed to go prior to heading out each time. Besides the aid station people and the pink ribbons, I also had a wrist Garmin and a Garmin 60Csx. It wasn't like I was worried about it in that sense or had half a chance of actually getting lost. Somewhere shortly before McGee Creek, around mile 35, I ran into a group of 7 or 8 ladies who were running together. I asked them where Skip was. They looked dumbfounded as I told them it was so wrong to leave Skip all alone out on the course. They must have thought the heat was getting to me. I didn't have time to explain to them that Skip is a fellow Trail Head known for running with the ladies. At McGee Creek, they was a group of guys fishing. I didn't know what to make of the long shirts and pants, including vests and boots. I guess ultra running doesn't corner the market on insanity.
By the time I arrived at the Tungsten City aid station I was no longer sure what part of the course was left. My wrist Garmin had died (hello Garmin, when will you address the needs of our sport?) and I didn't feel like pulling out my 60. I simply asked the nice lady with the watermelon. She walked me over to the end of her camper, pointed down the hill, and said, "See that clump of trees down there? That's one and a half miles away and the finish line is in there. That's where you started this morning." I passed a couple of the 50K runners while covering that last mile and a half. It sloped gently downward the entire distance into the campground and the running seemed effortless. What a fabulous place to run! The entire course is very runnable and so well-managed and the runners so well-provided for, that I highly recommend it. In the words of first time 50Ker, Beiyi Zheng, train to run on sand and at elevation and you'll be just fine. The heat did send a few to the hospital and out ot 109 starters only 80 completed the 50 mile course. 8 chose to finish the 50K distance. On the bright side, the course record got beat by 5 minutes and I completed my first 50 miler! Here's a mashup and kml of the course and more pictures can be found on the SoCal Trail Headz public site.
I'll see you there next year!
Bring it! Let's Trailrun!