Holcomb Valley 33 mi

The starting line for Holcomb Valley Trail Runs was a deja vu of last year. Hard to believe a year had passed since we last started up Cougar Crest Trail. Maybe it didn't seem so long ago because I had just come down the trail a few weeks prior on a fastpack up from Cabazon. The crowd was thick as the waves of runners were called up to start. Each wave of about 30 runners was to start a few minutes apart beginning at 7 for the 33 milers and 7:30 for the 15 milers. I was in the second wave of 33 mile runners. I saw several SCTHz at the start area. Poor Jennifer Foreman was there sans running shoes. She had somehow forgotten to pack them in the RV and was really disappointed about not being able to run the race after driving up from the San Diego 100. I try not to think too much about why anyone would be rude enough to schedule their ultra on top of someone else's practically within the distance many of the participants could run. I had originally planned to run the SD 100 in the fall. Since I'd already signed up for Holcomb, I decided to stick with it and then run AC 100 in Sept., instead. Vote with your feet I always say (pun intended). I got off to a brisk start because I knew how narrow Cougar Crest Trail would be after the first half mile. I didn't want to get stuck behind others on the way up. I knew that many would slow way down once they saw the gain of the trail and its technical nature. Next to affect many of them would be the altitude. It would irritate both them and me to have me going around them on it. Ultra runners can be cranky at times. I wanted to be a good neighbor, as well as enjoy the run myself. The real run for me would begin on the hill climb up from the city dump and continue on until we returned to this spot. I saw several other SCTHz as I crossed the highway. They were arriving for later waves. Skip was among them and we high-fived as I passed. I ran under the bridge and up the wide path to where the trail narrows and began the climb. On the way up I caught up to and passed several runners from the first wave. Dude, get off my wave. So much for positioning for minimal passing on the narrow trail. Cranking up the hill took on multiple meanings at this point. Once at the top of Cougar Crest the course takes a quick jaunt on the PCT before heading down fireroads that continue for miles before returning to it. There is a section of climb just before returning to the PCT that I remembered as being particular brutal and required me to do a lot of walking the previous year. Surprisingly, they had mellowed that section out somehow because I ran right up it. I paused just long enough at the PCT junction aid station to fill a bottle and started up to the high point of the course, although it's not quite the altitude they advertise it to be. They have somehow associated the nearby peak's elevation with the high point of the course, but one doesn't reach that peak, skirting it by a difference of a couple of hundred feet. Regardless, it's still a bit of a climb as you work your way along the PCT back towards Cougar Crest. There are fabulous views of Big Bear Lake along this part of the course. You need to be careful as you look over at it, though. There are a few roots along this part of the course that you need to be alert for. They are the same color as the dirt and easy to miss with your eyes and catch with your feet. Somewhere just past where the Cougar Crest Trail intersects the PCT I came across some people performing trail work who were using llamas to carry their supplies. It's hard to guess just what you will come across on the PCT. The one major change in the consistency of the trail can be found at about mile 20 where it literally becomes a pile of boulders with a trail carved into it. You have to be careful crossing this hundred yard section because the boulders shift and slide as you step on them. Surprisingly, this is not the section of trail I chose to fall on. After my race began at the dump, it's a long steep climb out, I began passing other runners quite solidly, until I came upon one guy. Turns out his name is Angel. He couldn't stay ahead of me, but he wouldn't let me shake him, either. We ran along like this for quite a few miles. We chatted a bit, as well. It turns out he's practically a neighbor. He lives in Moreno Valley and I live in Hemet. As we ran along towards the bottom of Cougar Crest trail and were approaching the highway I thought about how determined he seemed to be. I told him over my shoulder, dude, what say when we get to the finish we run it in together. He grunted in agreement. We got to where Cougar Crest Trail widens out and smooths out a bit, less than a mile from the finish when my feet decided to fail me. It was a head first roller. Easy enough to deal with, usually. However, I felt my left calf cramp up nicely as soon as both feet left the ground. I knew I needed to get my foot locked up against something quickly to stretch it out. Unfortunately, when I completed my roll I was lying on my back. I was writhing around trying to get my leg positioned for a stretch, groaning and growling, because that always lessens the pain, right? Angel, in good form, avoided stepping on me and returned to ask me through my theatrics if all was well. I think he may have thought I was having a seizure of some sort. I finally got over onto my belly and got the calf stretched and beginning to relax. I gave him the thumbs up and with three simple words, no hard feelings, turned and headed full bore for the finish. Since that was not in the plan, I quickly jumped up and set out in hot pursuit. I managed to close the gap he created down to about 20 yards as we crossed the finish. Unfortunately for him, his wave left before mine. My time was better. Like he said, no hard feelings. I need to run into him again and make that email exchange we talked about but forgot, not too many ultra runners out in that part of Riverside.