Beacon Rock 50k 2012 Race Report

Let’s face it. I knew what I was getting in to when I signed up for this race. Not one person said that Beacon Rock was easy. I had a taste of the climb up Hamilton Mountain on our training day, and I had felt that burn in my legs. I had heard that the climb up Hardy Ridge was even more intense. Still, I clung to the hope that maybe all of my miles in training would make for a good race, that somehow I would find that magic sweet spot where the work was easy and I felt like I could run forever.

Ha ha ha.

That place is a myth, people.

I arrived at the start of the race ready to go.  My legs were rested – two weeks of no running, in fact – so they were as fresh as they could be. No illness, no soreness, nothing to hold me back.

The race began with an absence of fanfare, my favorite kind of start.  A quick downhill (most notable for the fact that this one last little uphill would be our reward for finishing), and then we began the climb. As is always the case, I was tempted to run the uphill. The adrenaline and the energy of the crowd combines in a powerful cocktail of confidence – the cocktail I usually suck down with gusto and lay down a couple of too fast miles that come back to haunt me. But I resisted the siren call of the run, and I diligently kept a powerful walk up the hill.

The early stages of the race are always the most challenging for me. My head comes alive with strategy, calculation, planning. I want to run. I feel like I can race well beyond my abilities. Possibility is alive; reality hasn’t set in.

And then we turned up the Hardy Ridge Trail.

Holy shit, I thought. This is the steep part that Sarah was telling me about. Steep like we seldom see on the trail – certainly not on Wildwood anyways. Put your hands on your quads and power up kind of steep. Finally we make it to the top and start catching the wide open spaces in the gorge. It is beautiful, but I’m breathing too hard to truly enjoy it. But then comes some down, and I get to know a gorge runner who shares mutual friends. We are nearly flattened by a powerful downhill runner; I spend quite a bit of mental energy being annoyed with the lack of trail etiquette. We hit the aid station, fuel up, and keep on going down. After a another mile and a half, I catch up with Desiree on our trek down to the start of the Hamilton Mountain loop. We are running well, chatting about life and family. When we finally switch to the uphill of Hamilton Mountain, it is a relief on my quads.

The Hamilton climb goes fairly well. I know what to expect here, and the switchbacks pass fairly quickly. Across the ridge where I nearly lose my hat, and down the cutoff trail to the aid station and then back to the finish of the first loop.

I pull in to the turn around in 3:26.

Mentally, this is a tough spot. Not that I thought of quitting, but that I knew what was waiting for me. The endless climbs. The punishing downhill. And knowing that if I were stopping now, I could enjoy a cold beer and hot food, listen to some bluegrass music. But this day was not about comfort. It was about pushing on when the mind said no. And so I did.

When I would begin to think about all the climbs I had left to do, I would panic a bit. So the focus became the next turn, the next crest of the hill. Climbing back up Hardy Ridge produced some of the most significant burn in my legs I have ever felt. Where I was able to climb without stopping on the first loop, I had to stop and rest a few times on the way up Hardy. I was able to pass a couple of women on the ups, but they would quickly catch me and pass me for good as we began to descend. If I had any doubt about my ultrarunning weakness, it was now gone. I descend like an old lady, so cautious that it destroys my quads. Yet one more thing to work on.

The climb up Hamilton was enough tougher. Physically, it did not create nearly the pain that Hardy Ridge did, but for some reason, the switchbacks towards the top seemed endlessly longer. I found myself frustrated and near tears when I couldn’t open my shot blocks. It was rough mentally. But finally, somehow, I reached the top and began the climb back down to the finish. As I crossed the ridge again, I noticed Desiree behind me and started anticipated her catching me.




The huge grin is a result of finally being up the stupid mountain.

As we neared the aid station, I stopped to wait for Desiree, who was just behind me. “Oh, you have headphones in!” she says to me, “I’ve been shouting at you!” Oops.

We commiserated for a bit and then began to chat of who knows what as we headed in for the least stop before the finish. Those last five miles breezed by, the mental battles soothed by the company of a fellow runner, and they were nearly easy. Nearly.

And while I couldn’t bring myself to run any of the last hill, a spirited jog in to the finish line was not out of the question. 7:31:40.

hamilton mountain: what the beacon rock 50k has in store

“You see that mountain over there? Yeah, one of these days I’m gonna climb that mountain…” – Alabama, Mountain Music

When I signed up for the Beacon Rock 50k, I knew that I was in for a tough race. After all, this is a Rainshadow Running race, and race director James Varner is known for his punishing courses. But when I started hearing from a lot of tough folks that this course was brutal, I knew I needed to find out what I am in for.

So bright and early, Julie & I headed out to run just one of the loops – the Hamilton Mtn/Hardy Creek loop.

The race map – these trails are a bit confusing, to say the least.

After some initial confusion about where we were supposed to start (but a successful location of the group camp that will mark the start of our race), we ended up in the Beacon Rock campground parking lot. The trail climbs quickly from there, passing by open vistas of the Columbia Gorge and Hamilton Mountain looming high above. Our first gasps of delight came from the Pool of the Winds, a cascading waterfall with a cavernous fall you can hike up to. A study of our race map, though, suggests that we won’t pass by this cool waterfall during the race. Folks heading out to the race early may want to go ahead and hike the trail (it’s about 1.5 miles from the campground) just to check out this cool spot.

Another view of the Pool of Winds.

After passing the falls, we came to a “Rainshadow” fork in the road. During the race, we will be dropping down from the Hardy Creek Trail and climbing up the Hamilton Mountain trail.

In typical Rainshadow style, we will take both during the race.

The punishing climb continues up for two more miles, switching back regularly.

Glancing up the trail. More hills.

Wildflowers were in bloom along the cliffs – Indian paintbrush, lupine, and scotch bluebell are the only ones I could name, but heck, you don’t need to know their names to know they are beautiful.

As we climbed higher, we were rewarded with views of Mt Hood and even Mt Adams. On a perfectly clear day, it will be outstanding.

Ah. The top.

Looking back at Hamilton Mtn before descending.

Descending wasn’t too bad, though the trail is quite technical in spots. Proud of ourselves & our big climb, we tweeted out that we had made it to the top…only to learn that the steeper climb was on the other loop! So guess who’s heading back out in a couple of weeks to check out the other part of the course…

I had cougars on my mind the entire time. There have also been bear sightings in the area. Awesome!

Notes on this loop for the 50k race:

• The climbs are going to be long and tough. Go out too fast on the first loop and you will pay for it.
• The course is stunning. So many spots that take your breath away.
• Sunscreen. Lots of exposed areas, so need to bring some.
• The aid stations will come after the big climbs and will be a fair distance time wise. Two handhelds for sure, and if it is really hot, maybe a third bottle.

climbing to devil's rest

At long last, Devil’s Rest.

I thought climbing to Devil’s Rest was just for the badasses.

Perhaps that’s running to Devil’s Rest I am thinking of.

Julie and I set out to conquer the Devil’s Rest loop mapped out on version 3a.2 of the Gorge Waterfalls 50k. Armed with shorts and lightweight jackets, we figured the 2,400 ft climb would get cool, but we had no idea what was in store for us.

The beginning of the climb we knew so well. The quick jaunt from Multnomah Falls to Wahkeena Falls, the climb up the switchbacks, scrambling up the creek’s edge. We had even taken the #420 trail off to Angel’s Rest at the first intersection, but soon we came to where we had turned the wrong way on our first adventure. New trail!

We were quickly rewarded with a magical spot I had first read described by Gordy Ainsleigh – the beginning of Wahkeena Creek where it bubbles up from the ground. One hot summer’s day I want to hike up those pools and sit for awhile.

The trail then continued on along the ridge towards Angel’s Rest, rewarding us with pristine, quiet forest and views of the Gorge below when the clouds parted enough to reveal the landscape below.

The miles clicked quickly by as we soaked it all in, and before we were at the ominous looking Foxglove Trail marker. You know the Foxglove Trail, right? Wait, what? It’s not on any maps? I’m sure it’s fine!

Thankfully the trail must get regular use, as it was easy to follow as it wound it’s way steadily up towards Devil’s Rest. But that’s when the weather started. Rain, first. Then hail, heavy at times. The trail grew steeper, and we worked harder to climb. Finally, snow and rain fell on us, and we could feel the cold seeping in. As we huddled under a large tree and ate some food, I couldn’t help but laugh that not only were we out there slogging through the mud in that weather, we were loving it.

After another tough climb, we hit the top – the wildly anticlimactic Devil’s Rest. Clouds socked what limited view we had, so we headed off down the mountain and ran along what must be a beautiful ridge with sweeping views of the Gorge…on a sunny day, anyways.

Thankfully we could feel the temperature rise as we dropped, and pretty soon we were warm and chatty again. Descending came easily and before we knew it, we were back on familiar trail, heading down to Multnomah Falls.

We had a bit of extra time, so we thought we’d run up the Larch Mountain trail – that is, until we saw the rickety bridge with the warning sign that only one person should cross at a time due to storm damage. No need to go on, we decided! Another mile down, and we were back at the car, reliving the adventure under skies now growing sunny. A fantastic day on the trail and another good climb to add to the training bucket.

peterson ridge 20 miler race report

I love Central Oregon. Let’s just get that out there. Ponderosa Pine, red cinder roads, snowcapped mountains. This is my happy place.

I’ve had my eye on the Peterson Ridge races for several years, but they always fell on Vegas soccer weekends. As a now pretty much retired player though, I had a free weekend to make the trek to the other side of the mountains to do a little running.

My ambitious self signed up for the 40 miler.

My realistic self switched my registration to the 20 miler not long after the Gorge.

As race weekend approached, I realized that my hopes to spend the weekend over there were not going to materialize. In fact, I would need to get up bright and early and drive over the morning of the race. Thank goodness for a 9 am start.

Mt Washington, standing majestic

I woke at 5, grabbed some breakfast, and was on the move. No sweat. I made it by 8:30 – more than enough time to sign in and get ready.

How wonderful it was to see some familiar faces – my new Trailfactor friends who had come over on Friday to enjoy a girls weekend. Races are fun, but doing them with friends make them even better. I was glad for a little company.

We lined up, heard a couple of race announcements, and were off. My favorite moment: Yassine running backwards through the crowd chasing the dog he was going to run with. Smart dog. He was going back to the car. Yassine still managed to win. Of course.

I did my usual. Ran like hell at first. At one point, some guys running next to me said they were running a 7:30 pace. What?! It felt easy. A feeling of dismay came over me. I tried to settle down and find my own sustainable rhythm.

Now the course advertises it is uphill the first half, and a gentle downhill the second. Whatever. There were little hills all throughout the course. But nothing too major – it was all very runnable.

Cruising past Cheryl, who ran with me for a bit. I loved that!

I had also heard that the 20 miler didn’t have the pretty views that the 40 miler course did. Thankfully that wasn’t good information. It was beautiful up on the ridge.

I kept moving pretty well through mile 16, and then I just sort of lost my fire. I was tired of racing. The fast start probably didn’t help.

And then I fell. Face down in the dirt. I laid there for a moment. Ugh.

Mentally, I was done. So when I passed a gal who seemed to be breathing pretty hard, I decided I would run with her for a bit. We started chatting. I realized that I was enjoying running with her more than I was enjoying trying to run hard, so I relaxed and went with it. Koushik caught me at the last aid station and mumbled something about maybe running together, but when he caught me on the road, he said he needed to go faster because he was cramping. I thought about going with him, and then thought about helping my new friend Ruth in. I decided to stick with her.

At this point, I decided to become the good samaritan runner. I started chatting with everyone we passed, ridiculously cheerful. I am sure there were some runners who wanted to give me a good smack. I fell behind Ruth as I tried to urge a 40 miler along; I had to hammer down for 600 yards or so to catch up, so I know I had some fire left in my legs. It was just gone from my head. I’ve got to work on that.

Ruth & I crossing the bridge – about a mile to go.

We kept running together and finally rounded the track to the finish. 3:26:21 – a 10:19 pace. The best reward – hearing Ruth tell her friends that I had pulled her to the finish. That was awesome.

Of course, Max King finished his 40 miler before I finished my 20 miler. New goal: make it to the halfway point of the race before he finishes.

I found the Trailfactor folks and celebrated a good day on the trail – cheering in the other 20 & 40 mile racers, enjoying some great food and soaking up the Central Oregon sun before driving home. What a great way to spend a Sunday.

hey.

Geez. I turn 40 and the blog goes to crap.

I've been running. A lot.

And I've been trying to get relayguide.com up and running.  I'm partnering on that project, and I've got some good articles in mind for the site heading forward.

At some point, I will get back to this and write up the Gorge Waterfalls 50k.  See ya soon.

gorge waterfalls 50k 2012 race report

Elowah Falls – the turnaround

Stunning. It really is the only word you can use for the Columbia Gorge. Cascading waterfalls, enchanted forests, mossy green enclaves hushed with a certain magic. Running these trails is its own reward.

So how cool is it that Rainshadow Running has put together a race that allows you to not only enjoy some of the finest trails the Gorge has to offer but to also push yourself up against your own limits. I ran the inaugural race in 2011, but as winter started coming to a close and my own training was going well, I knew that I would have to go back and test myself against the challenging terrain once again.

Luck has brought me the fantastic good fortune of the ultimate training partner – a good friend with the same attitude towards training, a similar pace and now an enthusiastic love for the trails. Even better, Julie is the training plan task master, keeping me on target through the weeks when my laissez faire nature would have me blithely training away in whatever manner I felt like going with that week. We focused on long runs with shorter back to backs during the weeks leading up the race; I peaked with a 70 mile week featuring a 30.25 mile through run on the Wildwood Trail. My weekly mileages ranged from 50 – 60 miles on average, but I also had a cut back week of 25 – 30 miles every 3 weeks, usually from necessity (colds…).

Several weeks out from the race we learned that trail repairs necessitated a course change. The point to point course became an out and back, and the opening miles gained climbing feet as the new course took us up to Devil’s Rest (elevation 2,402) before finally letting us descend. On a scouting mission the week of the race, Julie & I missed our turn off trail and were not able to make it to the top of Devil’s Rest before we ran out of time, but we could tell we were in for some serious pain.

Finally the week of the race arrived. Nature reminded us that for all of our best laid plans, she ultimately is in charge, dumping snow on the course and changing the route once again. Thank goodness.

Me, Julie, Megan & Bunky before the start of the race.

The morning of the race dawned at last. Wade drove Julie & I out to the start, where we quickly found Texas Libby and said our hellos. Word was spreading like wildfire that our race director had a flat tire and had yet to arrive, so we cooled our jets and talked nervously with our friends. The good luck of not having to climb all the way to Devils Rest – twice – was a common theme. Talent scouting was also fun – it was a virtual who’s who of Oregon’s finest ultrarunners.

Before I knew it, we were off and running around Benson Lake.

Jenn Shelton blazed past me like I was standing still. So much for winning. Ha!

After a nice warm up mile, the climbing begins. Up. Up. And even more up. I was ppushing as hard as I dared. After two miles of solid climb, you reach the intersection that signals the top (1,500 feet later), and I began to roll. Hard. So hard that by the time I was nearing the bottom of the Multnomah Falls switchbacks, I knew my quads were in trouble. Oops.

The music came out. My head was giving me all kinds of grief, but I kept it rolling, running by myself up and down the rolling hills, past the Oneota Gorge and Ponytail Falls. Up. Down. Up.

Julie passes under the overhang on the way down to Multnomah Falls on a training run

My fueling plan was fairly basic. I had Gu Peach Tea in my handheld, a PB sandwich for the first two hours, Stinger Chews for the next two, and gels for the final hours of the race. My theory is to start with solid food and gradually get less so as I tire. Seemed to work for this race. I didn’t stop at the first aid station.

Around mile 10 the course gets a little less pretty and hits some scrubby looking forest. I knew I was getting close to the road section, but it was still a shock when Max King came flying by on his way back to the finish.

The road miles seemed longer this year, perhaps because I knew I would soon be returning. At the next aid station, I stopped to get more water and grabbed a little Coke, but mostly because it sounded good. What’s the point of running a race if you aren’t going to stop and enjoy the treats, right?

Another climb to Elowah Falls, and I was at the halfway point in just under three hours.

The return trip back to the last aid station was uneventful. One foot in front of the other type stuff, but I did run out of water. A quick fill up and some chatting with the volunteers, and I was back on the trail, ready to climb.

Climbing the switchbacks at Multnomah Falls at mile 26 of the race with all of the tourists was interesting. I still find it amazing that we were passing folks at all, but it was frustrating to get stuck behind packs of people who seemed unaware that we were rolling up behind them. Still, the climb seemed endless. And it was only beginning.

Coming back up this trail was a trial. My legs were burning. The section from the Larch Mountain Trail to the Wahkeena Trail, which seems so mild coming down, was the cruelest of all. Still, when the final song from Unbreakable came on my playlist, I was crying tears of joy that I could be out to enjoy this day.

Less than a mile to go.

Finally we hit the downhill, but by now my legs were fried. Descending was just as painful, and my legs were so tired that I worried I would trip and fall if I went too fast. But soon I was back on the flats and chugged my way back around Benson Lake to finish what I started 6 hours and 13 minutes before. A PR. Nice.

Of course, that’s when my doubts started.

Was this course truly the 49k James said it was? Several Garmins reported 26.5 miles. Another account put it at 29.3 miles. I fretted about it for a couple of days.

Finally I let it go.

Because really, in the end, it’s about enjoying the day. Pushing your body. Testing your limits. Your splits don’t matter to anyone, only that you put yourself out there and gave it a go. I had a wonderful day on the trail, enjoyed one of the most delicious post race beers ever, and was able to enjoy the company of my friends. What else does a person truly need?

on turning 40

It's a big number, forty.

Run 40 miles, and your legs are going to hurt.  Drink 40 ounces of beer, and your belly is going to hurt, though you may not be able to feel anything else.  Go into the desert for 40 days, and you come home a changed person.

Certainly there is some magic in the number.  You do become a "master" after all.  You have finally climbed up to the top of that hill, and if you take a moment to look, you just might be inspired by the view.

I am turning 40 today.

I am mostly excited to enter a new chapter in my life, but part of me is bittersweet about how fast the first 40 passed.  I have a habit when I'm climbing hills when I'm running.  I put my head down so that the bill of my hat covers up the climb ahead.  It makes it easier to stay focused, but I sometimes miss the view when I do that.  The same can be true in life, so I am making my birthday wish that I will be able to keep my head up during the next 40 so that I don't miss a thing.

Happy running!