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.

Shadow of the Giants 50 km

Ted Liao and I decided to carpool up to Shadow the morning of the race. His plan was to run a smooth slow pace so he would be ready for the San Diego 100 mile Endurance Run he would be taking on the following weekend. What an animal! He needs a social director to manage his race schedule. And, what a pool party it was. We slept a couple of hours at his place in Monrovia before getting up at Midnight to hit the road by 1 a.m. I actually got in an extra hour and a half of sleep while he drove. Thanks Ted. He was probably happy about this because I can be rather chatty when I'm amped up for a race. We arrived at a relatively dead looking Green Meadows, after missing the turn and driving right up to the Southern entrance of Yosemite NP, and went in to register. It wasn't long before a crowd started to form as runners and their people arrived. Baz's pre-race briefing was in his typical style; laced with humor and profanities. "Who the f... is talking while I'm talking?!" The most important pieces of information were that we had to cross snow (shh, don't tell the ranger Boo Boo), cross over a tree, cross the same creek twice, don't cross the RD, and follow orange and yellow ribbons augmented by chalk arrows at key points. How could anything go wrong? I ran with my buddies iMichelle (Michelle Barton) and Robo (Rob Cowan) for a large part of the race. We cursed the cold creek crossing, our feet were numb before we reached the far bank (yeah, it was that cold), and laughed our way over the tree. Although, it was more like 2 huge trees lying side by side across the fireroad with no way to get around them. At some point we ended up following orange ribbons out into some deep scrubby bushes and something that resembled a brand new trail rather than something we would have expected from Baz. This was the something go wrong part. It had to be wrong, so back we went to figure out where we had gone astray. It turned out to be a 9:04 minute, half-mile extracurricular excursion off course. Wouldn't you know, this happened to Michelle in this race last year, as well. Each person we passed for the next half hour asked the same question, are you the guys that got off course? I wonder how they all knew? If they saw us go off course, that's yelling distance, no? So, why didn't they yell at us? It wasn't like they were within talking distance of each other, either. So, is there some secret ultra-runner mind-meld thread that provides one with the latest gossip of the course that I'm not aware of? I need to sign up for this. Once we were most assuredly back on course, I picked up my pace a bit to make up for lost time. After a few miles iMichelle caught up and we ran together again for a few miles until she moved on ahead and disappeared. Little did I know, but Robo was waiting for the right moment to move in on me. Rob is an incredible runner. His race schedule is also unreal. I need to make mine look more like his :)
It was about the time we returned to the tree crossing. It would prove to be a little tougher to get over than previously. I basically rolled over the two pieces instead of trying to climb over them. Robo hopped over them like they were simply branches lying across the trail. With that, I knew that he would take me out in the last 5 miles. I was just going to have to do what I could to keep that time between us to a minimum :) One more mile of uphill and I was really looking forward to the final 4 miles of relentless downhill. I couldn't walk, I knew that it would increase the time between us by too much. I was maintaining a 10 min/mile pace on the uphill part and slide to an 7:30 min/mile pace on the downhill part. Rob must have been flying at this point. He crossed the finish line 8 minutes ahead. The course is beautiful. No one particular place stands out, though. There are no individual fabulous vista points along the way. There are Redwood trees to entertain and delight you. If you've never seen one they might actually be a distraction for you, if you're really wanting to focus on your running. Being a California resident and getting out on the trails a lot, I've seen my share. I simply spent the morning enjoying the whole ambiance of the place and the time spent with some good running buddies. Thanks Rob and Michelle; not only for being such cool people, but for being so inspirational. And thanks Ted for a great trip!

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!