Searching for the End of the Rainbow
The trail looked different in the dark. I knew it would - the soft shadows from the setting sun had long vanished, leaving only the hard angles from my headlamp. The climbs faded into the night, the summit a distant dream in the darkness. Even the rocks littering the trail disappeared into the dusty ground, only to reach up and grab my toes. And the cold. I knew it would be cold, but the bone chilling frozen damp of all the creek drainages was taking a toll on me, mentally and physically. Twenty four hours ago, I could not have imagined all that was going through my mind as I slowly marched forward to the next aid station. I didn't need to be out there in the dark, suffering like I was. I could have dropped down to the 100k and been finished hours ago. How long would it take me to reach Colony Creek, let alone Music Meadows? And then I still had the climb of Music Pass to face. I'd wanted the "real" Colorado 100 mile experience and the trail had been more then happy to oblige. And so there I was, shivering in the dark, searching not for the pot of gold, but for the motivation to keep putting one foot in front of the other.
Rewind 24 hours to 3:00 Saturday morning. I'd taken the advice of some of the more seasoned 100 mile runners and eaten most of my breakfast Friday before going to bed. That had been a smart move - I couldn't imagine trying to choke down my oatmeal at that hour. The coffee and Skratch bar was more then enough. At that moment, I was happy I'd done as much organizing the night before as I had. It was too early to really think about everything that needed to be done! All that I really needed to do was bring my Horn Creek drop bag to the start/finish line and get dressed to run. It didn't feel that cold out down in Music Meadows, but I knew it would be chilly atop Music Pass. Finally, it was time to head over to the starting line. Runners drifted over to the illuminated arch, the air a mix of nerves, terror and excitement. I know I was feeling all three! I was choosing to take on the 100 mile challenge, knowing full well I could have dropped to the 100k at any point before the weekend. John gave us some last minute instructions and then we were off into the dark for our first climb up Music Pass.
The 100 mile course at the Sangre de Cristo Ultras was pretty simple - a double L format featuring four out and backs. The first out and back was the short 9 mile jaunt to Music Pass and the Sangre de Cristo Wilderness boundary. Then came the longer section - 21 miles out and back from the starting area Music Meadows all the way to the Venable Trailhead. We would repeat that out and back a second time, experiencing the trail in both day and night in each direction. Along the way, there were three aid station - Colony Creek, Horn Creek and Venable. After completing both out and back segments, it was time for the final challenge. The last ascent up Music Pass. Every race this weekend had two ascents up Music Pass - it was just the distance on the Rainbow Trail that determined how far you were running. The 100k went all the way out to Venable before turning around, but only did one lap. The 50 mile turned around at Horn Creek. The 50k at Colony Creek and Sunday's 27k was treated to just Music Pass! I know some people don't like out and back courses, let alone one that was four out and backs, but I loved it. Despite the distances, we 100 mile runners were never really alone. I knew the trail a little better a night, so it was never the crushing feeling of solitude sometimes found at ultra races. It also allowed for easy crew access - they never had to move from the main aid station at Music Meadows!
But all that was still to be traveled. The small field of 100 mile runners quickly spread out as we climbed higher and higher. There were a few elusive pink ribbons, but for the most part the theme was when in doubt go up! After a few miles, we reached the single track that would take us to Music Pass. That wasn't so bad seemed to be the consensus of the guys around me. The road section didn't seem that steep. We'd all hiked most of it, saving energy for the long miles on the Rainbow Trail. There was a bit of a traverse before we resumed climbing into the darkness. Finally, at the edge of the Wilderness, we reached the turn around. There was no awesome view - just the black of night. As instructed, we punched a small heart in our bibs before retracing our steps. In the darkness, the descent still didn't feel that steep. I ran comfortably, balancing speed with not blowing up my legs in the first 8 miles of race. I was also eyeing the timing. The shorter distances started at 6:00 - I didn't really want to get in the middle of their start. Not that it really mattered, I would be making a right onto the Rainbow Trail and they would be heading west to Music Pass. As I approached Music Meadows, the runners in the 100k/50m/50k were gathered, listening to the pre-race instructions.
After a quick stop at the van to pick up my Dyna 6 vest and some food, I headed back out. Just as the other races started! I ran with them for a bit, told them to have fun on Music Pass and took my right onto the Rainbow Trail. Let the real race begin. But first, sunrise. Without a cloud in the sky, the colors came quickly, bathing us in pinks and oranges as the sun climbed into the horizon. I remembered that view from last year's 50k and took my time to soak it in. The blues quickly shifted to purples and pinks, tinged with gold as the sun climbed into the sky. The chill of the night gradually drained from the air as the sun flooded the valley and the trail. I wasn't the only one pausing to take in the sunrise. I was actually a little jealous of the shorter distance runners seeing that view from Music Pass!
I was running faster then I should have, having found myself in a good group. We were running comfortably on the descents and traverses, then settling into a quick hike on the climbs. The Rainbow Trail is deceptive like that - always climbing or descending. Never quite flat as it drops into a creek drainage, climbs to the top of a ridgeline and then repeats. The miles were ticking by quickly as we soon found ourselves at the Colony Creek Aid station. They were ready for us, but hadn't been able to cook up anything hot yet due to the wind. No worries. I lost the group I was in after stopping to help another runner tape his ankle. The baby heads of the Rainbow Trail had already struck. I did find a new running partner for that long 9 miles to Horn Creek, but again - faster then I really wanted to run. But the conversation was good, so I willingly pushed a bit more then I should have. Would it come back to bite me? Who knows at that point.
The drop down to Horn Creek was as rocky as I remembered. Loose, baby heads littering the road, with a single half decent line going down. There were also people! For the first time in many hours, there were people other then runners on the trail! A few befulded looks of what are these nut cases doing, but mostly cheers. Then we were down at Horn Creek. I think we were moving a little faster then anticipated! Or the road to get to Horn Creek was a little more rugged then usual. The pickup truck with all the drop bags had only arrived a few minutes before the leaders. The adults at the aid station were getting food organized and getting set up while the kids were digging to find our drop bags. It was like watching a mining operation as they set out in search of my grey Napa Valley Marathon bag! I think I had one of the smaller bags on the truck - some people had packed everything, including the kitchen sink. I'd added to my usual mix of snacks and Skratch Labs hydration drink. Knowing it was a long way between aid stations and an even longer way between crew points, I'd included a spare pair of shoes, extra socks, extra hat and gloves, dry shirt and tights. Finally my bag appeared (it wasn't really that long, maybe a minute or two... but the kids were quite distraught that it had taken that long!) I took care of business, thanked the volunteers and headed back up to the Rainbow Trail.
Into the unknown - literally! Last year's 50k had been the Rainbow Trail to Horn Creek and back, with no Music Pass. So until I made that right hand turn to head toward Venable, I was on familiar trails. The stretch to Venable? That I knew nothing about. Was it easy running? A mixed opinion on the runnability of that sections - the climbs were deceptive, the kind that you didn't really know how much you were climbing until you turned around. Or why the trail felt so easy running and then you realized that you were actually descending! How were the rocks and roots? Typical Raibow Trail. Some parts were awesome, other parts I hiked even on that first stretch in fear of twisting an ankle. It would be interesting in the dark! What other turnovers were there besides the drop to Venable? John had very specifically said not to turn off the Rainbow Trail unless there was a sign telling us to...
And there were plenty of turnoffs without that laminated sign. Trails heading off into the Wilderness for peak baggers and waterfall hunters. Trails dropped down into the two campgrounds below the Rainbow Trail. At one point, a group of well meaning hikers met me and another runner and pointed us down the Comanche trail, insisting that there was an aid station right down the trail. The other runner turned down, but I paused. No laminated sign... So I kept going on the Rainbow Trail, hoping I wasn't making a mistake. Five minutes later, just as I was starting to panic? A laminated sign, pointed me down to Venable!
Venable was a quick stop. I was feeling really good and just wanted some water. The climb back up to the Rainbow Trail was a kick in the pants! I thought it was one of the harder climbs in the entire race - at least on the Rainbow Trail - between the steepness of the ascent and the looseness of the trail. I was already not looking forward to that climb at night. But once I was on the Rainbow Trail, I was heading for Music Meadows. It might be a few miles away, but I was on the first return trip!
This is where the out and back nature of the course really shined. Between the 100 milers and the 100kers going to Venable and the 50 milers going to Horn Creek, it was all of a sudden a very social run. Besides the people I was running with, we got to cheer on everyone still heading out to Venable. It made the 6 miles between Venable and Horn Creek fly by. And as we started on the drop back down to Horn Creek, we were meeting the 50 milers as well. Most everyone looked happy, excited and motivated for the last 16 miles into Music Meadows. In the three hours since I'd left Horn Creek, the aid station had come alive. There was bacon grilling, tator-tots, quesadillas, fruit cut up and all kinds of other goodies. The drop bags were neatly lined up by number, waiting to be claimed. I indulged in a freshly made quesadilla and filled my cup with tator-tots for the road. Mmmmm... I wasn't carrying that little cup for liquids, no I was carrying it for tator-tots!
The next few miles flew. Once we climbed out of the Horn Creek drainage, the trail traversed in and out of smaller drainages, trending downhill all the way to Colony Creek. I was running with some 50 milers at that point, just cruising. After running through one of the many stands of aspens, we both asked if they were more golden then in the morning! Last year, the Rainbow Trail was like the yellow brick road, littered with golden aspen leaves. This year, the colors were late, with just a tinge of gold on most of the trees. But that gold seemed so much more vibrant in the afternoon! We weren't the only people who noticed that effect either. A number of racers Sunday afternoon were walking about the same thing.
In what felt like no time at all, we were back at Colony Creek. A new crew of volunteers, music playing, lights strung up and all kinds of activity. There was a mini-party in the middle of a race! At that point, everyone was headed back to the barn - back to Music Meadows. Some of us would be returning to Colony in a few hours, but many were facing the final ascent of Music Pass. I took some pickles, downed a cup of pickle juice and took some chicken broth and a quesadilla for the road. Only 7 miles to Music Meadows, mostly easy running. I was still smiling, still enjoying the day. This was it - the magic I'd been looking for after Stories. Being out in the woods with like minded runners, enjoying a day of adversity. I knew the hardest part was yet to come, the darkness of night, the deep loneliness of the miles, the 2:00 demons taunting me, but it hadn't hit yet. And maybe, just maybe I would have the race where it all came together.
That was the best I'd felt at mile 52 ever. Hoping to keep the momentum going, I headed to the van for the planned longer break. Lots of things to accomplish - from eating something, changing clothes, getting a new vest... Nick was ready for me, with ginger ale poured and soup ready. My black Dyna 15 was all loaded up and waiting. Yes, I was planning on switching to the larger pack. I knew it would get cold over night and wanted to have extra layers. And they wouldn't fit in my 6. I'd gotten a light, packable puffy, had heavy gloves, warm hat and extra socks. I also had rain/wind pants. I just needed to swap my blue gore and my soft flasks over to the new pack. Given that I was heading into the night hours, I was also going to change clothes. I debated leaving my skirt on and getting the tights at Horn Creek, but Nick insisted that I just change all the way. Now was the time to do it when I had help. We washed the layers of dust off my feet, I drained one blister forming on my left foot and wrapped it up. New shoes and clean socks felt really good. The dry shirt and capris also felt really good. After changing, I sat down to eat. The first signs that something wasn't right... The soup, which normally goes down really well in the middle of a race like this, wasn't sitting right. I had a few more slurps then I wanted, eyed the other food Nick had set out and frowned. This wasn't good. Nothing at all looked appealing. I took the wrap Nick made on his insistence, and headed back out. Time to face the coming darkness.
I jogged out of Music Meadows, planning on nibbling on the wrap once I hit a hill to walk. But the first few bites just didn't sit well at all. I deconstructed the wrap, pulling out the cheese and meat and eating that. The tortilla I had to toss. I just couldn't get it down. Not good at all. Maybe I'd eaten a little too much and just needed to back off the intake a little to get my stomach to settle. Time to do a physical inventory. Legs tired, but still feeling good. No mental fatigue despite the miles. Still drinking, but that was slowing down. Feet felt good. Just the intermittent crankiness from my stomach. I could handle that - as long as it stayed slightly cranky and didn't deteriorate. Seeing the runners coming back took my attention away from the cranky stomach. Hard to feel sorry for yourself when you are meeting so many excited people, ready to get to Music Meadows! Didn't help that we could see Music Meadows nearly the entire return stretch from Colony Creek.
A different crew of equally enthusiastic volunteers was at Colony Creek. I took a few minutes to wait for a fresh avocado and cheese quesadilla while I refilled my water and got some ginger ale. Mmmm. That actually went down really well, making me happy. I ate it slowly, hiking out of the Colony Creek Drainage while I ate. Maybe things were turning around and my stomach was getting better. The sun was dipping below the Sangres, casting long shadows on the trail. Night was coming. The few hunters along the trail were hiking back to their ATVs and making their way back to camp. One group was actually camped right on the edge of the trail, at the top of one of the ridges! They had their tents set and were huddled around stoves when I ran through. One of them recognized me even though I'd changed clothes and asked how many miles we were running. I'm not sure if he was impressed or thought I was stupid when I told them! I wished them a good night and said I'd try to be quiet when I came back! They just laughed at me.
The trail was quiet now, the hustle and bustle of the morning and afternoon hours fading as quickly as the sun. I was along in the growing darkness. But I was still moving decently. The cranky stomach had returned and my attempts at nibbling were met with rebellion. Maybe something else would work. The Skratch and ginger ale were going done okay, but anything solid was roundly rejected. I tried a fruit squeezer - those had worked well for me at Sheep Mountain. And the answer was no. Not only was it no like with the solid food - the angry rumbling, it was a firm no of coming back up! Gah. Not good at all. I took a few sips of water and kept marching. If my stomach was going to be cranky, the sooner I got finished, the better. Stopping and feeling sorry for myself wouldn't help matters at all.
Horn Creek was again an oasis, but this time a beacon of light in the darkness. The volunteers were making ramen, which sounded delightful. I opted to go light on the Skratch and just filled with water. I also had one of the volunteers fill a soft flask with chicken broth for the road. None of the solid food I had in my drop bag sounded good, so I left everything but a bag of Skratch Energy Chews. That stop at Horn Creek was busy for me since I also decided to pull out my puffy. Yes, it was getting cold. Once I had my chicken broth, small cup of noodles and a quesadilla wedge, I started climbing back up to the Rainbow Trail. Chicken broth... yum. Noodles went down well. Not so much the quesadilla. Oh well. It would be chicken broth and noodles for the rest of the night. And maybe those Skratch Chews I'd put in my vest pocket.
The darkness was all consuming at this point. The only light came from my headlamp. Occasionally, I would see another light on one of the ridges ahead of me, but otherwise darkness. Until I looked up. Then the stars filled the sky, brighter then I'd ever seen. I never did turn my headlamp off, the trail was too rocky for that. But the stars were still amazing. Sometime after I left Venable for the last time, the moon rose in the sky a blood red. It was eerie looking at the red moon, filling the sky while hiking all alone in the darkness. Here there be dragons...
And then there was the cold. I knew it would be cold. I had prepared for the cold. Or so I though. But when I pulled the puffy out at 8:30, I knew the night would be a long one. When I put the gore coat over the puffy for the climb up from Horn Creek the third time, I also knew temperature management would be an issue. It wasn't just cold - it was a wet cold from the numerous creek crossing. The stretch to Venable was warmer and I took off my Gore shortly after reaching the Rainbow Trail. Maybe if I'd been able to run, I would have stayed warmer, but that wasn't happening. With my stomach shutting down, my legs were following. Forward momentum. That became the goal - one step in front of the other, try to keep the pace high still. Mentally I was fine, but the cranky stomach was starting to affect everything. I just wasn't able to move forward like I wanted to and the rocks were making it even harder. In the end, I needed not only my puffy, but my gore, my rain pants, my heavy gloves and my hat over my head band. Do not underestimate the cold that happens in the wee hours of the morning when you are crossing multiple creeks. And do not underestimate how it can penetrate through all the layers, cutting deep to the bone
I got some more chicken broth and noodles at Venable. Those went down well again. Finally, on the return leg, headed back to base camp. My stomach growled - maybe it was ready for some real food? I dug in my vest pockets for the bag of Skratch Chews. They were gone! All I could find was a small bag of gummy bears. Those weren't enough, but it was something. Maybe i'd dropped them in my bag accidentally while fussing at Horn Creek 3. I was even more disappointed when there were no Skratch Chews in my bag a few miles later. They had disappeared, vanished into thin air. If only I'd looked in my coat pocket... Yes, when I put something I wanted to keep warm in my coat pocket, I found my Skratch Chews. Those were like manna from heaven, as I ate one every few minutes for the entire stretch from Horn Creek to Colony Creek.
I knew the plan was long gone. The hope of seeing sunrise on Music Pass was well beyond me. I did some math in my head and realized that at the pace I was moving, It would take me close to 4 hours to get back to Music Meadows. It wasn't stupid runner math either. I wasn't so tired that I couldn't do basic arithmetic! Hoping Nick would have taken his phone off airplane mode, I texted him a quick note. Otherwise, he'd be waiting, worrying that something had happened. It was not a text of desperation, but one of quiet resignation. "I'm about 9 miles out from MM. 3-4 hours. OKAY, just really slow." Yes, that's what my basic math was showing. Maybe I could hustle it up and keep going with power hiking 20 min miles. But I doubted that. I hadn't really eaten anything since the avocado and cheese quesadilla back at mile 58 and things were starting to hurt. But that's the brutal reality of 100 - and a lesson I needed.
Finally - the rainbow lights of Colony Creek appeared. My friends Dianna and Aaron were staffing the station and were more then happy to see me. Even they had been getting worried! I got some noodles, some more chicken broth and a hug. There was nothing really to be done other then keep moving. Keeping moving would keep me warm and that was what I needed. I was on the last seven miles to Music Meadows. And so I found myself seeing the sunrise not from Music Pass, but from the Rainbow Trail in nearly the same spot as I had seen the sunrise 24 hours prior.
I wanted to run into Music Meadows, but I couldn't get my legs going. Ugh. That last trip up Music Pass was going to be rough. Nick was waiting for me, ready to join me on the last 8 miles. He had a few food options for me, but nothing really sounded good. Except for a coffee protein drink. I decided to try that and was pleasantly surprised. Not only did it settle my stomach, but I actually wanted more. A little food, a little water and off we went. We had 45 minutes before the 27k race started. I was hoping to get all the way to the pass before the first runners caught me, but wasn't sure I could do it. I just really hoped that the speedy 27k runners would take pity on us slow moving 100 milers!
Having Nick with me was a burst of energy. He kept me going, pushing the pace just a little on the long climb up. The road hadn't seemed so steep in the dark! There was some conversation, but mostly quiet hiking. I hadn't run up that road so many hours ago - it wasn't happening this time either! And I was happy to have my poles for that climb up. I hadn't needed them at all on the first ascent, but with how tired my legs were, being able to use my arms was a bonus. The first runner in the 27k caught me 2.5 miles up the road. Damn! Two more runners caught me before the single track and then it was a pretty steady stream. I felt like a speed bump compared to them!
Nick collected my purple wrist band and we turned back down the mountain. Maybe when we hit the road, I'd be able to run/jog a little? I jokingly asked if he thought that the leaders in the 27k would catch me again. I thought they would, Nick was hopeful they wouldn't. I'm sure the hike down was just as painful for Nick as it was for me. I wanted to run, but couldn't get my legs to move. I couldn't even power hike anymore! Forward momentum was all I had left, counting down the miles as we descended. Nick would walk his normal pace between shady spots, waiting for me in the shade. Finally we reached the Grape Creek trailhead. Only a few minutes left. I still couldn't run - but in all fairness, I didn't really try. I was beyond exhausted, but seeing that finish line was amazing. There were plenty of people still at Music Meadows, all cheering for me as I walked into the finish chute.
I had done it. I'd looked deep into my soul and found the spark to keep moving. I'd put all the lessons of not only this year, but every 24 hour race we've ever done into practice. I was worked beyond belief, every muscle in my body hurting. I took my finishers award, got my finisher's hug from John and hobbled towards the van.
Never say never, but at this point, I don't see another 100 mile race in my future. I learned a lot over the course of those 32 hours, including how deep I can dig to just keep going. One foot in front of the other. I also learned that I love the 50k distance as a racing distance and the 50 mile distance as the challenge. I'm happy I stuck the plan at Sangre de Cristo and did the 100 mile race. Had I dropped down to the 100k, I always would have been questioning that choice. I needed that hard, physically and mentally challenging day where things didn't go according to plan and I was faced with the reality of what I was doing. We learn the most when faced with adversity and come away strongest when we face that adversity with a supportive community.
Rewind 24 hours to 3:00 Saturday morning. I'd taken the advice of some of the more seasoned 100 mile runners and eaten most of my breakfast Friday before going to bed. That had been a smart move - I couldn't imagine trying to choke down my oatmeal at that hour. The coffee and Skratch bar was more then enough. At that moment, I was happy I'd done as much organizing the night before as I had. It was too early to really think about everything that needed to be done! All that I really needed to do was bring my Horn Creek drop bag to the start/finish line and get dressed to run. It didn't feel that cold out down in Music Meadows, but I knew it would be chilly atop Music Pass. Finally, it was time to head over to the starting line. Runners drifted over to the illuminated arch, the air a mix of nerves, terror and excitement. I know I was feeling all three! I was choosing to take on the 100 mile challenge, knowing full well I could have dropped to the 100k at any point before the weekend. John gave us some last minute instructions and then we were off into the dark for our first climb up Music Pass.
The 100 mile course at the Sangre de Cristo Ultras was pretty simple - a double L format featuring four out and backs. The first out and back was the short 9 mile jaunt to Music Pass and the Sangre de Cristo Wilderness boundary. Then came the longer section - 21 miles out and back from the starting area Music Meadows all the way to the Venable Trailhead. We would repeat that out and back a second time, experiencing the trail in both day and night in each direction. Along the way, there were three aid station - Colony Creek, Horn Creek and Venable. After completing both out and back segments, it was time for the final challenge. The last ascent up Music Pass. Every race this weekend had two ascents up Music Pass - it was just the distance on the Rainbow Trail that determined how far you were running. The 100k went all the way out to Venable before turning around, but only did one lap. The 50 mile turned around at Horn Creek. The 50k at Colony Creek and Sunday's 27k was treated to just Music Pass! I know some people don't like out and back courses, let alone one that was four out and backs, but I loved it. Despite the distances, we 100 mile runners were never really alone. I knew the trail a little better a night, so it was never the crushing feeling of solitude sometimes found at ultra races. It also allowed for easy crew access - they never had to move from the main aid station at Music Meadows!
But all that was still to be traveled. The small field of 100 mile runners quickly spread out as we climbed higher and higher. There were a few elusive pink ribbons, but for the most part the theme was when in doubt go up! After a few miles, we reached the single track that would take us to Music Pass. That wasn't so bad seemed to be the consensus of the guys around me. The road section didn't seem that steep. We'd all hiked most of it, saving energy for the long miles on the Rainbow Trail. There was a bit of a traverse before we resumed climbing into the darkness. Finally, at the edge of the Wilderness, we reached the turn around. There was no awesome view - just the black of night. As instructed, we punched a small heart in our bibs before retracing our steps. In the darkness, the descent still didn't feel that steep. I ran comfortably, balancing speed with not blowing up my legs in the first 8 miles of race. I was also eyeing the timing. The shorter distances started at 6:00 - I didn't really want to get in the middle of their start. Not that it really mattered, I would be making a right onto the Rainbow Trail and they would be heading west to Music Pass. As I approached Music Meadows, the runners in the 100k/50m/50k were gathered, listening to the pre-race instructions.
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| Getting punched on the first Music Pass ascent |
After a quick stop at the van to pick up my Dyna 6 vest and some food, I headed back out. Just as the other races started! I ran with them for a bit, told them to have fun on Music Pass and took my right onto the Rainbow Trail. Let the real race begin. But first, sunrise. Without a cloud in the sky, the colors came quickly, bathing us in pinks and oranges as the sun climbed into the horizon. I remembered that view from last year's 50k and took my time to soak it in. The blues quickly shifted to purples and pinks, tinged with gold as the sun climbed into the sky. The chill of the night gradually drained from the air as the sun flooded the valley and the trail. I wasn't the only one pausing to take in the sunrise. I was actually a little jealous of the shorter distance runners seeing that view from Music Pass!
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| Sunrise on Saturday from the Rainbow Trail |
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| Sunrise from Music Pass! Photo Jamie Reichler |
I was running faster then I should have, having found myself in a good group. We were running comfortably on the descents and traverses, then settling into a quick hike on the climbs. The Rainbow Trail is deceptive like that - always climbing or descending. Never quite flat as it drops into a creek drainage, climbs to the top of a ridgeline and then repeats. The miles were ticking by quickly as we soon found ourselves at the Colony Creek Aid station. They were ready for us, but hadn't been able to cook up anything hot yet due to the wind. No worries. I lost the group I was in after stopping to help another runner tape his ankle. The baby heads of the Rainbow Trail had already struck. I did find a new running partner for that long 9 miles to Horn Creek, but again - faster then I really wanted to run. But the conversation was good, so I willingly pushed a bit more then I should have. Would it come back to bite me? Who knows at that point.
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| One of my running partners at sunrise |
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| Another group of guys on the Rainbow Trail |
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| The only course markings! The laminated signs telling us where to turn off the Rainbow Trail |
Into the unknown - literally! Last year's 50k had been the Rainbow Trail to Horn Creek and back, with no Music Pass. So until I made that right hand turn to head toward Venable, I was on familiar trails. The stretch to Venable? That I knew nothing about. Was it easy running? A mixed opinion on the runnability of that sections - the climbs were deceptive, the kind that you didn't really know how much you were climbing until you turned around. Or why the trail felt so easy running and then you realized that you were actually descending! How were the rocks and roots? Typical Raibow Trail. Some parts were awesome, other parts I hiked even on that first stretch in fear of twisting an ankle. It would be interesting in the dark! What other turnovers were there besides the drop to Venable? John had very specifically said not to turn off the Rainbow Trail unless there was a sign telling us to...
And there were plenty of turnoffs without that laminated sign. Trails heading off into the Wilderness for peak baggers and waterfall hunters. Trails dropped down into the two campgrounds below the Rainbow Trail. At one point, a group of well meaning hikers met me and another runner and pointed us down the Comanche trail, insisting that there was an aid station right down the trail. The other runner turned down, but I paused. No laminated sign... So I kept going on the Rainbow Trail, hoping I wasn't making a mistake. Five minutes later, just as I was starting to panic? A laminated sign, pointed me down to Venable!
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| This was a welcome sign both times! |
Venable was a quick stop. I was feeling really good and just wanted some water. The climb back up to the Rainbow Trail was a kick in the pants! I thought it was one of the harder climbs in the entire race - at least on the Rainbow Trail - between the steepness of the ascent and the looseness of the trail. I was already not looking forward to that climb at night. But once I was on the Rainbow Trail, I was heading for Music Meadows. It might be a few miles away, but I was on the first return trip!
This is where the out and back nature of the course really shined. Between the 100 milers and the 100kers going to Venable and the 50 milers going to Horn Creek, it was all of a sudden a very social run. Besides the people I was running with, we got to cheer on everyone still heading out to Venable. It made the 6 miles between Venable and Horn Creek fly by. And as we started on the drop back down to Horn Creek, we were meeting the 50 milers as well. Most everyone looked happy, excited and motivated for the last 16 miles into Music Meadows. In the three hours since I'd left Horn Creek, the aid station had come alive. There was bacon grilling, tator-tots, quesadillas, fruit cut up and all kinds of other goodies. The drop bags were neatly lined up by number, waiting to be claimed. I indulged in a freshly made quesadilla and filled my cup with tator-tots for the road. Mmmmm... I wasn't carrying that little cup for liquids, no I was carrying it for tator-tots!
The next few miles flew. Once we climbed out of the Horn Creek drainage, the trail traversed in and out of smaller drainages, trending downhill all the way to Colony Creek. I was running with some 50 milers at that point, just cruising. After running through one of the many stands of aspens, we both asked if they were more golden then in the morning! Last year, the Rainbow Trail was like the yellow brick road, littered with golden aspen leaves. This year, the colors were late, with just a tinge of gold on most of the trees. But that gold seemed so much more vibrant in the afternoon! We weren't the only people who noticed that effect either. A number of racers Sunday afternoon were walking about the same thing.
In what felt like no time at all, we were back at Colony Creek. A new crew of volunteers, music playing, lights strung up and all kinds of activity. There was a mini-party in the middle of a race! At that point, everyone was headed back to the barn - back to Music Meadows. Some of us would be returning to Colony in a few hours, but many were facing the final ascent of Music Pass. I took some pickles, downed a cup of pickle juice and took some chicken broth and a quesadilla for the road. Only 7 miles to Music Meadows, mostly easy running. I was still smiling, still enjoying the day. This was it - the magic I'd been looking for after Stories. Being out in the woods with like minded runners, enjoying a day of adversity. I knew the hardest part was yet to come, the darkness of night, the deep loneliness of the miles, the 2:00 demons taunting me, but it hadn't hit yet. And maybe, just maybe I would have the race where it all came together.
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| Halfway done and I feel great! Photo - Jamie Reichler |
I jogged out of Music Meadows, planning on nibbling on the wrap once I hit a hill to walk. But the first few bites just didn't sit well at all. I deconstructed the wrap, pulling out the cheese and meat and eating that. The tortilla I had to toss. I just couldn't get it down. Not good at all. Maybe I'd eaten a little too much and just needed to back off the intake a little to get my stomach to settle. Time to do a physical inventory. Legs tired, but still feeling good. No mental fatigue despite the miles. Still drinking, but that was slowing down. Feet felt good. Just the intermittent crankiness from my stomach. I could handle that - as long as it stayed slightly cranky and didn't deteriorate. Seeing the runners coming back took my attention away from the cranky stomach. Hard to feel sorry for yourself when you are meeting so many excited people, ready to get to Music Meadows! Didn't help that we could see Music Meadows nearly the entire return stretch from Colony Creek.
A different crew of equally enthusiastic volunteers was at Colony Creek. I took a few minutes to wait for a fresh avocado and cheese quesadilla while I refilled my water and got some ginger ale. Mmmm. That actually went down really well, making me happy. I ate it slowly, hiking out of the Colony Creek Drainage while I ate. Maybe things were turning around and my stomach was getting better. The sun was dipping below the Sangres, casting long shadows on the trail. Night was coming. The few hunters along the trail were hiking back to their ATVs and making their way back to camp. One group was actually camped right on the edge of the trail, at the top of one of the ridges! They had their tents set and were huddled around stoves when I ran through. One of them recognized me even though I'd changed clothes and asked how many miles we were running. I'm not sure if he was impressed or thought I was stupid when I told them! I wished them a good night and said I'd try to be quiet when I came back! They just laughed at me.
The trail was quiet now, the hustle and bustle of the morning and afternoon hours fading as quickly as the sun. I was along in the growing darkness. But I was still moving decently. The cranky stomach had returned and my attempts at nibbling were met with rebellion. Maybe something else would work. The Skratch and ginger ale were going done okay, but anything solid was roundly rejected. I tried a fruit squeezer - those had worked well for me at Sheep Mountain. And the answer was no. Not only was it no like with the solid food - the angry rumbling, it was a firm no of coming back up! Gah. Not good at all. I took a few sips of water and kept marching. If my stomach was going to be cranky, the sooner I got finished, the better. Stopping and feeling sorry for myself wouldn't help matters at all.
Horn Creek was again an oasis, but this time a beacon of light in the darkness. The volunteers were making ramen, which sounded delightful. I opted to go light on the Skratch and just filled with water. I also had one of the volunteers fill a soft flask with chicken broth for the road. None of the solid food I had in my drop bag sounded good, so I left everything but a bag of Skratch Energy Chews. That stop at Horn Creek was busy for me since I also decided to pull out my puffy. Yes, it was getting cold. Once I had my chicken broth, small cup of noodles and a quesadilla wedge, I started climbing back up to the Rainbow Trail. Chicken broth... yum. Noodles went down well. Not so much the quesadilla. Oh well. It would be chicken broth and noodles for the rest of the night. And maybe those Skratch Chews I'd put in my vest pocket.
The darkness was all consuming at this point. The only light came from my headlamp. Occasionally, I would see another light on one of the ridges ahead of me, but otherwise darkness. Until I looked up. Then the stars filled the sky, brighter then I'd ever seen. I never did turn my headlamp off, the trail was too rocky for that. But the stars were still amazing. Sometime after I left Venable for the last time, the moon rose in the sky a blood red. It was eerie looking at the red moon, filling the sky while hiking all alone in the darkness. Here there be dragons...
And then there was the cold. I knew it would be cold. I had prepared for the cold. Or so I though. But when I pulled the puffy out at 8:30, I knew the night would be a long one. When I put the gore coat over the puffy for the climb up from Horn Creek the third time, I also knew temperature management would be an issue. It wasn't just cold - it was a wet cold from the numerous creek crossing. The stretch to Venable was warmer and I took off my Gore shortly after reaching the Rainbow Trail. Maybe if I'd been able to run, I would have stayed warmer, but that wasn't happening. With my stomach shutting down, my legs were following. Forward momentum. That became the goal - one step in front of the other, try to keep the pace high still. Mentally I was fine, but the cranky stomach was starting to affect everything. I just wasn't able to move forward like I wanted to and the rocks were making it even harder. In the end, I needed not only my puffy, but my gore, my rain pants, my heavy gloves and my hat over my head band. Do not underestimate the cold that happens in the wee hours of the morning when you are crossing multiple creeks. And do not underestimate how it can penetrate through all the layers, cutting deep to the bone
I got some more chicken broth and noodles at Venable. Those went down well again. Finally, on the return leg, headed back to base camp. My stomach growled - maybe it was ready for some real food? I dug in my vest pockets for the bag of Skratch Chews. They were gone! All I could find was a small bag of gummy bears. Those weren't enough, but it was something. Maybe i'd dropped them in my bag accidentally while fussing at Horn Creek 3. I was even more disappointed when there were no Skratch Chews in my bag a few miles later. They had disappeared, vanished into thin air. If only I'd looked in my coat pocket... Yes, when I put something I wanted to keep warm in my coat pocket, I found my Skratch Chews. Those were like manna from heaven, as I ate one every few minutes for the entire stretch from Horn Creek to Colony Creek.
I knew the plan was long gone. The hope of seeing sunrise on Music Pass was well beyond me. I did some math in my head and realized that at the pace I was moving, It would take me close to 4 hours to get back to Music Meadows. It wasn't stupid runner math either. I wasn't so tired that I couldn't do basic arithmetic! Hoping Nick would have taken his phone off airplane mode, I texted him a quick note. Otherwise, he'd be waiting, worrying that something had happened. It was not a text of desperation, but one of quiet resignation. "I'm about 9 miles out from MM. 3-4 hours. OKAY, just really slow." Yes, that's what my basic math was showing. Maybe I could hustle it up and keep going with power hiking 20 min miles. But I doubted that. I hadn't really eaten anything since the avocado and cheese quesadilla back at mile 58 and things were starting to hurt. But that's the brutal reality of 100 - and a lesson I needed.
Finally - the rainbow lights of Colony Creek appeared. My friends Dianna and Aaron were staffing the station and were more then happy to see me. Even they had been getting worried! I got some noodles, some more chicken broth and a hug. There was nothing really to be done other then keep moving. Keeping moving would keep me warm and that was what I needed. I was on the last seven miles to Music Meadows. And so I found myself seeing the sunrise not from Music Pass, but from the Rainbow Trail in nearly the same spot as I had seen the sunrise 24 hours prior.
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| The second sunrise on the Rainbow Trail |
I wanted to run into Music Meadows, but I couldn't get my legs going. Ugh. That last trip up Music Pass was going to be rough. Nick was waiting for me, ready to join me on the last 8 miles. He had a few food options for me, but nothing really sounded good. Except for a coffee protein drink. I decided to try that and was pleasantly surprised. Not only did it settle my stomach, but I actually wanted more. A little food, a little water and off we went. We had 45 minutes before the 27k race started. I was hoping to get all the way to the pass before the first runners caught me, but wasn't sure I could do it. I just really hoped that the speedy 27k runners would take pity on us slow moving 100 milers!
Having Nick with me was a burst of energy. He kept me going, pushing the pace just a little on the long climb up. The road hadn't seemed so steep in the dark! There was some conversation, but mostly quiet hiking. I hadn't run up that road so many hours ago - it wasn't happening this time either! And I was happy to have my poles for that climb up. I hadn't needed them at all on the first ascent, but with how tired my legs were, being able to use my arms was a bonus. The first runner in the 27k caught me 2.5 miles up the road. Damn! Two more runners caught me before the single track and then it was a pretty steady stream. I felt like a speed bump compared to them!
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| Nick pacing me up Music Pass Photo - Jamie Reichler |
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| The view of Music Pass - the profile is replicated on the finisher's buckle! Photo - Jamie Reichler |
Nick collected my purple wrist band and we turned back down the mountain. Maybe when we hit the road, I'd be able to run/jog a little? I jokingly asked if he thought that the leaders in the 27k would catch me again. I thought they would, Nick was hopeful they wouldn't. I'm sure the hike down was just as painful for Nick as it was for me. I wanted to run, but couldn't get my legs to move. I couldn't even power hike anymore! Forward momentum was all I had left, counting down the miles as we descended. Nick would walk his normal pace between shady spots, waiting for me in the shade. Finally we reached the Grape Creek trailhead. Only a few minutes left. I still couldn't run - but in all fairness, I didn't really try. I was beyond exhausted, but seeing that finish line was amazing. There were plenty of people still at Music Meadows, all cheering for me as I walked into the finish chute.
I had done it. I'd looked deep into my soul and found the spark to keep moving. I'd put all the lessons of not only this year, but every 24 hour race we've ever done into practice. I was worked beyond belief, every muscle in my body hurting. I took my finishers award, got my finisher's hug from John and hobbled towards the van.
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| I worked hard for all that! |
Never say never, but at this point, I don't see another 100 mile race in my future. I learned a lot over the course of those 32 hours, including how deep I can dig to just keep going. One foot in front of the other. I also learned that I love the 50k distance as a racing distance and the 50 mile distance as the challenge. I'm happy I stuck the plan at Sangre de Cristo and did the 100 mile race. Had I dropped down to the 100k, I always would have been questioning that choice. I needed that hard, physically and mentally challenging day where things didn't go according to plan and I was faced with the reality of what I was doing. We learn the most when faced with adversity and come away strongest when we face that adversity with a supportive community.
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