Patrick
was able to get George, George, Dave & Vinny to all join us as pacers &
crew. We loaded up the RV Thursday
morning and headed north. I have come to
believe I do these races almost as much for the break from responsibility and
routine, as I do for the event itself.
On the ride up, we watched movies, exchanged stories, and generally
acted like we were 25 years younger with nothing more important in our lives
than being ready for the next set of final exams (except we now discuss wives and children instead of girlfriends and professors). We arrived at Vogel State Park about 2 hours
north of Atlanta just before dusk and settled in for the evening. Our camping spot was only a stone’s throw
from a babbling brook. Vinny built a
small fire, and we spent a quiet evening enjoying the respite from
civilization..JPG)
Because
it has a 48 hour time limit, the race was scheduled to start at 2:00 PM on
Friday. Patrick and I slept in until
8:00 AM, and awoke to a breakfast of eggs, hash browns and bacon cooked up by
Dave under the trees. Vogel State Park
is at the turnaround for this out and back race, so the group went for a short
hike on this far end of the course.
After a good deal of nervous fidgeting and re-packing race supplies, we
headed off in the minivan (we had towed behind the RV) to the start/finish at
Camp Morganton near Blue Ridge. We
checked in, getting customized bowling shirts for entering the race and gawked
at the outlandish finishing belt buckles which include a line representing the
race elevation chart. We HAD to finish
to get one of these. Willy Syndram (
Race Director), gave a pre-race briefing to our very small group an hour before
the race started. This was the inaugural
running of this race, and with the course difficulty, he had a small group of
23 runners signed up, of whom 21 toed the line at 2:00 PM.
I
started the race with my new Garmin Fenix watch on my left arm which is
advertised to have a 50 hour battery life.
But because I had not had a chance to test it, I ran with my Garmin
310XT on the right arm to keep track of pace.
The first 2.7 miles of the race are on pavement leading to Deep
Gap. It was mostly uphill, with a 450
foot climb, so there was a lot of walking, even this early in the race. Our crew of 4 pulled alongside with the
minivan door open singing the Muppet’s ‘Mahna-Mahna’ song through a bullhorn to send
us off. We waived goodbye knowing we
wouldn’t see them again until the first crewed aid station at 8:30, just before
nightfall. Patrick’s and my plan was
to average 20 minute miles with would bring us in to a 34:52 finish. Our goals were to finish (Good), break 36
hours (Better) and if we felt good, come in under 34 hours (Best). We planned to run well within ourselves early
knowing this long demanding course would take its toll over time.
The
second leg of the course is Deep Gap, a 5.8 mile loop that started with a 300
foot descent, an 800 foot climb and then a 500 foot descent. We tried to take it as easy as we could, but
kept finding ourselves finishing miles in 13-17 minute splits. Even the first major climb of the race (1,400
feet) on the Weaver Creek section was offset by the following 1,000 foot drop
and we kept banking time. I fell twice
early in the race. The first was a toe
hook on a stump that resulted in a clumsy somersault and roll across my
shoulders. I managed to continue the
roll back up onto my feet and keep running without Patrick having to stop
behind me. The second fall was uglier as
my foot slipped, and I dropped down hard onto my hands giving a painful jolt to
my hands, lower back and knees, all at once.
Fortunately, it was my last fall of the race. We reached the Stanley Creek aid station 20
miles in over 2 hours ahead of pace. But
the crew was there, re-energized us and off we went. The next 3 miles was pavement and we ran easy
10 minute miles, getting even further ahead of pace.
We
crossed the Shallowford Bridge, ran alongside the Toccoa River for a half-mile,
and then turned onto the Benton-Mackaye Trail and began climbing into what was
the first tough section for me. In quick
succession, we climbed Free Knob, Garland Mountain, Brawley Mountain, Bald Top
and finally Tipton Mountain with descents to the gaps between each. It was late afternoon, the temperature was
the hottest of the entire race, and this 7+ mile section really took it out of
me. We had caught Will Jorgenson at the
last aid station and spent most of this section running and chatting with
him. I had met Will at several previous
races, most recently finishing just behind him at the Georgia Death Race in
March. He runs with trekking poles, and
used them well as he pulled away on the final descent to Wilscot Gap as Friday
night darkness began.
The
Tampa crew was here again, and we refueled with Boosts, solid food, and
whatever else we could chow down quickly.
Willy had told everyone at race briefing that the first 30 miles to this
point were easy compared to what was to come.
He did not lie. I had run the
remaining 25 miles to the turnaround at the Death Race in the opposite
direction. But that was the first
section of that race, on fresh legs. Now
I had 30 hard miles already in, and had to do this section twice, once in each
direction. The next 50 miles is the
hardest thing I have ever done.
We
were now on the notorious Duncan Ridge Trail and this section is called the
Dragon’s Spine. Look at an elevation
chart for this trail and it is not hard to understand why. Over the next 13 miles, we would climb
Rhodes Mountain, Chinquapin Ridge, Gregory Knob, Payne Knob, High Top, Fish
Knob, Clements Mountain, Akins Mountain, West Wildcat Knob, Buck Knob, and
finally Buckeye Knob before descending to White Oak Stomp. It was one wicked climb up over 3,000 feet,
one after another, separated by knee shattering descents. What makes it particularly hard is the lack of
switchbacks. Normally trails built on
steep slopes wind their way back and forth up the mountain in a punishing, but
doable climb. Not here. The sadists who
built this trail followed the ridgeline throughout, straight up and straight
down. It was hard in March, but that had
been in daylight and temperatures were in the 40s. Now it was dark, hotter and brutal. And then the weather changed.
Sometime
in the night (exact times are no longer clear in my head, nor were they then)
it began to rain. It was a light rain at
first and pleasantly cooling. But it
soon began to come down in earnest. The
trail got wet and muddy, footing was difficult, and we began having trouble
seeing the trail markings. What we
thought was fog, turned out be clouds when I realized we only saw it at higher
elevations. The wind was blowing, so we
had misty fog blowing hard left to right, with heavy rain falling down from
above. At times I could barely see the
trail at my feet. The trail throughout
the course was mostly runnable, but at the higher elevations became more
rocky. On one steep descent, Patrick
slipped on a rock, and slid several feet downwards on his butt. He stood, covered in mud from his heels to his
back. Another time, he tried to stop at
the top of a large flat rock to pick his route down. But he slipped, and skied 10 feet down the
rock back to hard ground. He was soon
quoting a line from Armageddon, “Worst, scariest possible environment ever.” We agreed, the solo runners would have a
really hard time keeping their spirits up through the night in these
conditions. Remarkably, as hard as it
was, our moods didn’t turn – yet. To my
disgust though, my new Fenix ran out of battery here, less than 16 hours into
the race. I had enjoyed being able to
constantly monitor altitude on one watch and pace on the other.
After
the White Oak Stomp aid station, it was only 7.5 miles to the turnaround at
Vogel State Park. There was a 750 foot
climb to Coosa Bald, the highest point on the course, and then a long 2,000
foot descent to Wolf Creek. Patrick had
been having trouble all night with elevation sickness. He had read in Runner’s World that lowlanders
like us, could have trouble anytime we went over 2,500 feet. I wasn’t affected as far as I could tell, but
every time we approached 3,000 feet (which was a lot), he had trouble
breathing, and got light-headed. He
handled it well until the descent off Coosa Bald. At some point in the heavy fog I missed a
turn. We had to back track and search
for the route, adding an extra mile to our run.
We made the long descent unsure we were on track, I choked back
tears thinking our race could be over, and Patrick lagged behind just trying to
stay on his feet. After one last 800
foot climb into Vogel, we stumbled into the turnaround cabin exhausted.
Dave
& George had cooked breakfast sandwiches and were waiting for us. The aid station volunteers were great, and we
were encouraged to find that we were 4th and 5th in the
race overall. The 2nd & 3rd
place runners had taken a 90 minute nap at the turn and had left just ahead of
us. We had completed 58 miles (55 on the
course info) and had 49+ left going back (the return lap skips one out &
back section). I gave Dave both watches
to recharge, he gave them back to me at White Oak Stomp several hours
later. We took our time before heading
back out just after daybreak and walked uphill for a while with Vinny joining
us as our first pacer. Patrick
encouraged me to go ahead of him now that Vinny was with him, and I finally
took the bait on the next downhill. But
the longest climb of the race back to Coosa Bald did me in. I walked uphill for over an hour, feeling my
tank bleed dry. I shook my head when I
saw the easy turn we had missed in the dark and fog just hours before. I started the descent to White Oak Stomp and
just couldn’t shake the cobwebs, making terrible time in a relatively easy
section. 100 yards before the aid station,
Patrick passed me, rejuvenated and ready to go.
Dave
joined us as a second pacer from that point, and amazingly ran the last 43
miles of the course. The steep ascents
and descents on the Dragon’s Spine really took it out of us now. Occasionally we would stop mid-ascent, bent
over, trying to recover our breathing and heart rates. Vinny really struggled with the altitude
through here, and eventually fell back before we made it to Skeenah Gap. When Patrick was feeling well, he ran much
stronger than me. He pulled away from me
both descending and ascending and I had to work really hard to catch him
again Midway through the 5 miles to
Wilscot Bridge, we caught the third place runner who was walking and
struggling. When Patrick saw the chance
for a podium finish, he dropped the hammer and left me in the dust again.
I
managed to catch him not long before the aid station, and we sat down preparing
for the 7.5 mile multi-climb section to Shallowford Bridge. We took our time at this aid station and just
as we were about to leave, Will Jorgenson surprised us by descending off the
trail just behind us. Patrick took off
like he had been shot out of a cannon, he was not giving back his spot that
easy. It took me nearly half an hour to
catch him and Dave again. Patrick soon had
another down period, and I took point for the first time in hours. Not long after, we crested Brawley Mountain,
passed the fire tower, and I started the next descent. After a bit, I realized I had not heard
Patrick or Dave speak for several minutes.
I slowed to a walk and called behind me a couple times. When I did not hear a reply, I decided
Patrick was still recovering, but I didn’t want to wait. I trotted down the hill thinking they would
catch up soon, if not on that section, on the 3 miles of pavement ahead where Patrick
would be much faster than me. But the
longer I trotted, the better I felt.
I
made great time all the way to Toccoa River, Shallowford Bridge, and Willy was
at the aid station telling me I looked great.
I hustled through the aid station and was able to run fairly solid all
the way to Stanley Creek where our crew awaited. George, George & Vinny made sure I had
everything I needed, pumped me up with encouragement, and pushed me on my way
telling me to hold onto third. I had
just over 13 miles to go, and this would be the last time I would see
them. As I headed into the woods, I
looked back up the road, surprised not to see Patrick or Will approaching. I found out later, Patrick had run out of
water at one point, lost a bunch of time recovering, and fell over an hour
behind. Will came through about 20
minutes behind me.
I
was juiced now, even as the sun set on the race for the second time. I wanted third place badly, I’d never
finished that high in a hundred miler (I was 5th at the 2010
Arkansas Traveler for my bachelor party)
I ran the shallow uphills, strided the steep uphills as hard as I could,
and pounded the downhills with everything I had left. I tried using Patrick’s tricks of shunting
thoughts of pain to the side. The only
thing that mattered was holding pace. I
got more than a little loopy down the stretch, repeatedly thinking I could hear
Patrick, Dave and Will talking just behind me.
I looked over my shoulder dozens of times expecting to see them
overtaking me. I ran scared, and I ran
as fast as I could.
I
hit the Deep Gap aid station gasping for air.
I quickly refueled and hit this 5.8 mile loop. I knew that Patrick and Will would both likely
be on the loop when I returned to the aid station and I’d be able to know how
close behind me they were. I noted the clock time, and realized I had an
outside shot of breaking 34 hours, my stretch goal. I had made up huge time on the last three
sections. Running the loop backwards
from the start of the race, I humped up the 500 foot climb as fast as I could
and took the 800 foot descent even harder.
It was rough going as the previous night’s rain had turned the previous
day’s wet spots into flowing streams across the trail. My head kept playing tricks with me, as I
tried to figure out a shortcut back to the aid station. The entire loop goes around a loud mountain
stream; and I frequently (thought I) heard Patrick and Dave just behind
me. More than once, I turned off my
flashlight to peer into the darkness and catch them sneaking up on me. I then became convinced they were running in
darkness to lull me into slowing; so I pushed even harder.
But
when I approached the last aid station, Dave and Patrick were both there,
Patrick in a chair cleaning out his shoes.
He was clearly suffering and just trying to pull it together for the
finishing push. The aid station
volunteer told me Will had come through just 16 minutes behind me though. I knew Will was strong enough to have cut
that lead in half on this loop. That meant I
might have as little as a 6-8 minute lead with just under 3 miles of pavement
left. I was in full flight panic mode as
I raced to the finish. I turned my flash
light off when there were no cars, I didn’t want to give away my position to
Will. I turned onto the Camp Morganton
driveway and sprinted to the finish in 33 hours, 38 minutes, third place
overall. George, George, and Vinny
cheered me across the line and I immediately went inside to cool off and
recover, elated.
Will
Jorgenson crossed the finish line just 10 minutes behind me. That made the final push even more rewarding
for me, as I now knew for sure I had needed to push every step of the way to
stay ahead. I took a hot shower, ate
some pizza, and waited for Patrick who finished in 5th place in
35:47. He had vomited on the Deep Gap
loop and just held it together to finish.
After he cleaned up, George made the 45 minute drive back to Vogel State
Park and we all collapsed into bed in the RV around 3:30 AM.
Last
I heard, maybe 11-13 runners had a chance of finishing, but final results have
not been posted yet. This was a brutally
difficult course, and one I would highly recommend. The course is fantastic, although I measured
it at 107.5 miles (not including our bonus mile, giving us 108.5 total), a
little longer than advertised. While the
ascents and descents are harder than anything else I have run at this distance,
it is completely runnable. There are few
spots with so many rocks that you can’t run consistently. The views from twenty something different peaks and
ridgelines are magnificent. The sound of
mountain streams and bird songs dominated the air. Willy had everything well organized, the aid
stations were all great, the course was well-marked. I don’t think there is any doubt it ascends
to being the second most difficult race east of the Rockies behind the
inimitable Barkley. I will hold onto how
good it felt to run the last 22 miles the way I did for as long as
possible. Unless my work and life
schedule dictate otherwise, I will be back next year.
