Tuesday, July 2, 2019

Old Cascadia 100 miler

For me, the story of this race starts with the Ultra Tour de Mont Blanc (UTMB).  Several years ago I decided I'd like to try to get into UTMB, because I'm already on a multi-year quest to enter Western States, so why not.  I qualified but didn't get in twice in the past 2 years, which turns out to be great timing.  This year they removed their "3-time loser rule" so it might now take who-knows-how-many years to gain entry.  However! ...anyone missing out on the lottery this year was grandfathered in to the old system.

So I'm definitely IN for UTMB in 2020, yay!  See you next summer, Europe!

Believing I still needed the requisite number of qualifier points, I signed up for the Georgia Jewel later this year.  Then I started thinking about how that would be my only shot to acquire said UTMB points, so I found another interesting 100-miler in June to give myself 2 shots at it.  It wouldn't do to be automatically in except to miss out of the required points.

Then!  They also changed the point qualification system so now each year fewer points are needed.  Which also applies to us grandfathered folks.  So I already had enough points from the races I ran last year.  Cool!

Meaning I now have two 100-mile training races in 2019 that I can focus on without the stress of absolutely needing to finish come hell or high water.

Well that was a long intro, but the upshot is that I enjoyed the heck out of the Old Cascadia 100-mile course.  I wanted intrinsically to finish, for the satisfaction of accomplishment and building of confidence going into the summer season.  All internal focus, no external stress.

The course was just lovely.  Back up one second... reading through the race website on Friday it dawned on me that they claimed 25,000 feet of climbing.  That is A LOT for a "normal" (i.e. not Hardrock) 100-miler.  Mostly singletrack, some long-ish sections between aid stations (9-11 miles), and I had no idea how technical or hot and sunny it might be.  Uh, OK, well, I better be ready to get to work on Saturday!

I started the race with this in mind - keep a solid pace, don't waste time, climb steadily, run everything I can and keep it smooth, and don't get caught up in competition, for goodness sake.

The course is a 50-mile lollipop and the 100-mile competitors would complete it twice.  50- and 100-milers started together just as it was getting light on Saturday morning.

John ran to grab his phone for a couple quick photos of the start - low light meant challenging focusing, or maybe we're running SO FAST that we're a blur:


The easy early miles included a short distance on pavement and a climb up a dirt road to the trailhead.  From that point forward the course was almost all singletrack, which is an amazing amount of trail for a 100-mile race.  Especially since it was mostly really good, smooth, dry, flowing, buttery trail that had been completely cleared of blowdowns.  I am very impressed with the course design and the course itself.

A photo of me in the early miles, wearing too many clothes:

Photo credit Kyle Meck

The "stick" of the lollipop course was an up-and-over Crescent Mountain, so we did that climb twice in each direction.  In the upper part of the first ascent I paused to drink some Spiz and remove my jacket, quite possibly ending up at the very back of the pack for a moment after letting other people by.

At the top we made a short detour to the high overlook, and it sure was worth it.  After climbing up mostly through trees (except one traverse of a field), we were rewarded with an excellent view of nearby peaks.  Possibly the Three Sisters and Three-Fingered Jack.  John and I had been soaking in mountain views for a couple weeks now, so I looked around appreciatively and quickly turned to head back to the main trail.  Other runners stayed a few minutes and took pictures.

Awesome long run down the other side of Crescent Mountain!  Loved it.

The trail briefly joined a super rocky little road before taking off back into the woods on soft ground - thank goodness, because much longer on that road would have seriously sucked.

Down to the first aid station (called Crescent), passing 3 hikers on the way, notable only because of how few hikers I saw that weekend.  Quickly I was on to the next section, another nice drop through the woods.  This part followed a loud creek, crossing side drainages and weaving around and a bit up and down along the way.  It was fun and I really enjoyed making good time.

Here's where I first met up with Fred Ecks.  He's really good at climbing, while my specialty lies more in going downhill.  So I'd pass him going down and he'd climb by me later.  We'd met before, possibly at Hardrock, and talked a bit each time we saw each other.

One short walk up a dirt road later and it was back onto the beautiful trail.  The next aid station (Horse Camp) was a little way off the main trail.  I spent a few minutes taking off the long sleeves and tights, plus making sure I had enough water for the next long section (11 miles with a big climb).  A woman came in talking about missing a turn, which was fairly amazing to me considering there had been only about 3 intersections so far and all were very well marked.

Back to the lovely trail, more downhill and then a bunch of weaving in and out and around on a traverse over to Pyramid Creek.  Fred and I were going a similar pace since it was neither much up nor downhill.  So we got to chat for a while which I enjoyed.  Thanks for the company, Fred!

The creek crossing was calf high, slightly slippery on the rocks, but unchallenging.  Well, time to get back to work and climb up this next hill.

All day I admired the variety and size of the flowers in the woods.  They smelled great too!  Here are some photos from John:


Giant white bulbs:


In addition to the flowers, there were various types of vegetation that I spent too much time looking at while running to try to decide if there was poison oak masquerading in there... I don't think so but I washed with Zanfel afterwards just in case (update - no issues, yay!).  The curse of having run so much in the Bay Area.


Part of the climb took us up what used to be a road but is now a soft bed of light green moss.  Wonderful!  So soft on the feet.

Climbing, climbing, eventually to the top and a bit of running to the next aid station (called Scar).  I got to see everyone immediately ahead of and behind me on the out-and-back to the aid station, and everyone seemed in good spirits.  It really was a lovely day, not too hot or cold, a bit of nice wind, blue skies above the tall canopy of trees.  No complaints at all!

I filled up a Spiz baggie and got back on the trail.  Just for kicks I got out the maps and followed along through the next part of the course.  One turn, up a hill, down a couple switchbacks, up a bunch of switchbacks, whoa what a cool set of rock towers at the top!  Spectacular.

I wasn't fast enough to get my picture taken here, but at least you can see the awesome view we had:

 Photo credit Kyle Meck

Coming down the other side I thought I heard a whistle, like a referee in a ballgame, but realized it must be a bird like I'd heard earlier.  Not a bird I am familiar with.

I enjoyed following the map through here because of the variation in the terrain, several ups and downs and circling around.  It was nice to know when the trail was about to drop down to the Quarry aid station.  This aid station was busy because there were drop bags and crew.  I'd told John I didn't need his help this time around, and the volunteers found my bag for me.  I dug out provisions for the 20 miles back to the start/finish, dropped off the warm clothes, grabbed a piece of bacon and part of a delicious pancake, and was on my way.

After one more climb, we might have gotten a view of Mount Jefferson, which might be the one in this photo (or not - could it be Mount Hood?):

(Photo credit Kyle Meck)

It was so nice running in the shade most of the time, topping out with a great view (many times looking ahead to where we were going or back where we'd been), then dropping back down into the tree canopy.

After the view, the trail dropped significantly.  I counted the tiny climbs on the way down as reference for the next time around.  I also noticed the huckleberry bushes!  It was probably for the best that the berries are very far from being ripe.

Mostly I just ran.  A couple hikers told me "just one more downhill and you'll be at the aid station."  Um, I don't get it.  It was pretty much all downhill.  There were a few flatter spots, but more than one of those.  Is this the "last downhill"?  No?  What about this?  Well anyway, I pondered how to interpret the information but never figured it out.  And eventually reached the bottom, knowing better what to expect for next time around.

Across a road and over to the Pyramid aid station.  The previous sections had been 5 and 4 miles long.  The next one was 6 1/2.  Seems reasonable.

Here's a clue for anyone planning to do this race.  The next section is most definitely not reasonable.  All the other trails in this race are wonderful.  This part seems like it was taken from a different race (and maybe a different state) entirely.

It starts fine, with a little run down to a creek with a beautiful bridge across it.  Then some climbing, all quite normal.  Then more climbing.  Wait, how much climbing is in this part?  Turns out, a lot.  And it gets steep.  And unrelenting.  Even with switchbacks, it's still a tough ascent.

A backpacker was coming down the trail, and she was kind and encouraging even while having to deal with a large pack on her back while a bunch of runners walked uphill at her.  I hope everyone was nice to her.

Finally to the out-and-back detour to the summit.  Which is steeper than the rest, plus now it's rocky.  At least the view at the top is awesome!

Back down the rocky steep part, and around to the downhill.  Which is the least runnable downhill of the course, by far.  I picked my way down, stepping off rocks and working on keeping my feet.  I suppose there were good views but I was only watching my feet.

Eventually I made it down to the creek and the trail got better.  I was so happy that I'd seen most of the course and that this was the only really challenging part.  And really, compared to other races, it wasn't bad.  Just a bit of a surprise!

Another surprise - once you pass close to the parking lot at the bottom, you turn up the valley to traverse over to the Crescent aid station to close the lollipop part of the course.  Except it's more of a climb than a traverse.  Wait, another climb?  Who built this trail?

Chug, chug, chug, I guess I'll get there eventually.  After a while I saw a couple cheery mountain bikers who stopped to let me pass.  They were super nice and encouraging, telling me about the treats at the aid station (chips and pop!).  Then the guy said it was only one more mile.  "A whole mile?!" I exclaimed, unbelievingly, and I might have swore mildly.  He said, well, maybe only three quarters.  Seriously!

The good news was twofold - 1) The dude was WAY off on his estimate, it was a quarter mile at best, and 2) there was very little descent down to the aid station, so it wasn't unnecessary climbing and I didn't need to hunt down the trail designer.

So yeah, never believe the tourists.  Even the ones who should be reading from a bike odometer if they want to give a mileage estimate.  At least they were really nice!

The super-helpful cross-country kids at the Crescent aid station assisted with my water filling and sprayed me down with DEET-free bug repellent.  It was mosquito hour and the buggers were starting to swarm various pieces of exposed skin.  Oddly the bites never really itched.  Happily once I left the creek bottom the number of flying things tapered off.  Sorry y'all stuck at the aid station!

The climb back up Crescent was in multiple pieces and not quite as high as from the other side.  It went fine, and I was happy that the steep climb to Pyramid hadn't taken an immediate toll on my climbing legs.  I had my iPod going early and enjoyed listening to podcasts while working my way up the hill.

Several fast 100-milers were already coming down, well done!  I managed to spot all of them in advance and got out of their way, and all of them were pleasant and polite.

One more big downhill to return to the start/finish, and my knees were starting to feel it.  That was the only thing currently giving me even a hint of trouble, everything else was loose and limber.  This was great, because I've had several experiences at midpoints of 100 milers with all kinds of issues and challenges.

I ran on down and spotted John - Hi John!!  He helped me don another set of long sleeves and tights, change my socks while I had my shoes off anyway, and get my lights set up for the night.  I also swapped from the vest to a small pack with a Camelbak bottle so I could use trekking poles (yes, there really is that much climbing!).  He rubbed my knees with a gel and sprayed me down with a little more bug stuff.  Thanks John!  Ready to roll.

We didn't get any photos - we were too focused on everything I wanted to get done, and I wanted to turn it around fairly quickly.  I think we did OK, and soon I was jogging back along the road toward the trailhead and the 3rd climb up Crescent Mountain.

I played around with my new waist-belt light, trying it out to see if it would light up the trail where I'd normally have my Fenix handheld flashlight pointed.  That's the one challenge with using poles, the lack of free hands for a light or handheld bottle.  The light seemed to do OK, although the trail was so nice that it wasn't much of a test.  I kept it on low power for climbing and turned it brighter for the downhills (same with my headlamp) and the battery lasted the night - but barely.  Might need more testing before calling it a complete success.

Heading up the hill, several 100-milers and finishing 50-milers greeted me and we gave encouragement and kudos back and forth.  Then the "carnage" started, nothing by itself too surprising, only the rapid succession of events:

1 - A runner paused in front of me declaring that a wave of exhaustion had just hit him.
2 - A woman runner with a pacer was coming down the hill toward me, presumably returning to the start/finish I guess?, talking about how she couldn't find gluten-free things to eat at the aid stations (um, doesn't sound like something you should be relying on).
3 - A different woman was sitting on the side of the trail, I think crying, being consoled by her pacer (he said they were troubleshooting), remarkably similar to a scene I encountered near the end of Miwok last month, oddly enough.
4 - I walked by a guy sleeping on the edge of the trail, and I'm never sure whether to ask if someone is OK or just let them sleep?

Whew, that was some drama at the start of the 2nd loop.  Then Fred Ecks and another runner who I think is named Stefan (sorry if that's not right!) came strolling up behind me like it was another day at the office.  Hi guys, how's it going?

We hiked to the top of Crescent, didn't get nearly as good a view in the dark, and started the long fun run down the other side.  I still had happy downhill legs so waved at Fred and Stefan, sure I'd see them again soon on the next climb.

The cross-country kids at the next 2 aid stations were still awake and happy to help, and I filled Spiz baggies and my bottle.  My iPod kept me happy and I babied it, trying to keep the battery going as long as possible (if I don't touch it, it can last many hours).  I mathed out the rest of the course, figuring the pace I needed to make it to the end in time.

A couple steep-ish downhills were a tiny bit challenging so I was doubly glad to have my poles in hand.  Then the long run around the side of the hill, high above a creek.  I looked for landmarks and tried to be patient while still pushing the pace, which at this point meant speed-walking the little ups and lightly running the flats and short downs.  In and out of side drainages, over and over.

Then all at once, there was the creek crossing.  It was great having seen it during the day, and the slightly-slippery rocks were another reason to have trekking poles with me now.  Easy peasy, I walked across to start the "big haul" up the next hill.

Squishy wet feet... happily not freezing cold.  In fact, the night never got too chilly and I was fine with the one long layer over my running clothes.

Plus most of the early morning was taken up with this one long climb.  Another thing I was glad to have seen once already, in all its various parts.  There were plenty of pieces to tick off - the soft green mossy "road", the turn onto a steep climb, the switchbacks through the logs.  As expected, Fred and Stefan climbed past me, at which point Fred offered us mints.  Sure, why not?  I put mine in my pocket for later.

Eventually we topped out on the ridge.  Which is about where it started getting light.  Yay for short summertime darkness!

A woman and her pacer were coming up from the Scar aid station, and I met up with Fred again at the buffet.  I grabbed a quick seat so I could stash the lights and fill a Spiz, then headed out.  Nighttime had gone relatively well, but we still had quite a ways to go.  I worried I might hit a wall with my climbing legs but never did, just kept it slow and steady.

Along the way to the rock tower, Fred passed me for the last time.  Go get em, Fred!

I haven't figured out how to keep a good running pace into day 2 of these things.  Moving forward with purpose, generally no problem.  Actually running with any speed, not so much.  I'd try to push a little and my body would let me know just how difficult that would be.  Why don't we just settle into a good solid hiking pace with some occasional downhill jogging, it asked?  OK, fine.

Actually, I started thinking about fueling.  For efforts where I'm doing a lot more running on flatter courses, eating too much has possibly been problematic.  I'm still troubleshooting the issue of uphill nausea, maybe related to food digestion?  So I tried to stick with Spiz for this race, and I had zero stomach issues and good baseline energy.  But I think the amount of climbing required more energy than I gave it credit.  And my stomach possibly could have handled some substantial solid food this time, with plenty of time for digestion.  Still tweaking the whole ultra nutrition thing!

I'm musing and moseying, and HEY!  There's John!  Yay John!  He had hiked up the trail to meet me so I got to download a few things from my brain and find out how his night had gone.  Then he ran ahead to snap a few pictures...

Slightly sleepy-happy:


Stopping to, well, you know:


The final drop to the Quarry aid station:


John was great help at the aid station, taking the lights, the jacket, the outer clothes, basically getting my pack weight down to just the water and Spiz.  He brought me a pancake to try - hey, that's pretty good.  Perhaps should have opted for the Nutella on it too.

OK John, see you at the finish!  It's probably going to be a while...

He had plenty of time for some area exploration, including checking out the local lava flow:


And looking at the mushrooms sprouting:


Back to the race report... walking up the next switchbacks, I enjoyed the mint Fred had given me (thanks Fred!).  The long downhill run went fine and my knees were happy with the more casual pace.

I passed a woman carrying a large backpack and she asked if I was doing that race?  Like, still doing it??  The look on her face was sort of disbelief, but I was running downhill so I didn't provide any details beyond "yep, I'll get there eventually".  It slowly dawned on me that perhaps this was the same backpacker from yesterday, she had camped nearby overnight, and now there were STILL runners on the same trail all these hours later (without any idea that we were doing the same 50-mile loop twice).  Funny.

Time had shifted, my pace and urgency were spiralling downward, while my watch seemed to move faster now.  It always helps to pass long miles while listening to a good book.

Math was also telling me, "no problem, plenty of time!"  So when the first pancake at the Pyramid aid station tasted *delicious* I sat down and scarfed ~3 more.  Bob's Red Mill protein pancakes, I'm going to have to look for those!  And start eating more in races with lots of climbing.

Speaking of climbing, it was time for the one section I wasn't looking forward to.  The giant haul up Pyramid was every bit as challenging as I expected.  Steep, unrelenting, neverending.  Three mountain bikers waited for me to reach a switchback turn before descending, thanks guys!  They were super nice.

Finally - finally! - the last steep up-and-back to the very top.  There was a woman not far ahead of me (we'd been back and forth since the Quarry aid station) but I had zero care about racing anyone for anything.  Except the finish line before 6 pm.

Down the other side, I picked my way through the rocks and steps.  The trail was more open and sunny, but not enough to make me concerned that I hadn't reapplied sunscreen that morning.  And the views!  I had time to look around and appreciate the giant cirque with little waterfalls and big cliffs.  Spectacular.

Down along the creek, and this time I was ready when the trail turned uphill for the last cruel part leading back to the Crescent aid station for the final time.  Another runner was coming back toward me questioning if we were going the right way?  Oh yes, this is definitely the right trail.  Turn around, you'll get there eventually.

The kids at the aid station were looking pretty tired (most hadn't gotten much sleep) but still so, so helpful.  I greatly appreciate y'all being out there for the whole race!

One more climb, making good use of the poles, happy that this ascent is in sections and only a couple short parts are steep.  I met more mountain bikers (unless they were the same 3 guys?  I suppose that's possible...) and they were all very friendly and courteous.  I was happy to step to the side and take a little break once in a while.

Good job, legs!  You made it to the top once again.

Going down the other side wasn't nearly as fun this time.  For some reason, miles 90 to 100 can be challenging (imagine that?).  Why do my feet tend to start hurting when I get close to the finish line?  Where is the bottom of the hill?  Hey, at least it's not hot or raining or muddy or really anything difficult.  Just gotta get there.

Eventually I got there  :)


What a beautiful start/finish arch, we were very impressed:


The race director was lovely to talk to, then John got some ice for my knees and I sat for a few minutes.  Yay for sitting!


Well that's it!  Another 100-miler in the books and it was a good one.  If it's not clear already, I really enjoyed the course, the Oregon woods, the trail, the people, everything about it.  Glad we included it in our early summer schedule!

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