Bighorn – 2007

I have unfinished business in Wyoming at Bighorn Wild and Scenic Trail Run. After timing out between Porcupine and Footbridge in 2005, I was gonna ride this horse ahead of the clock in 2007. A large group of HCTR, Rogue, and NTTR folks were going this year, which really added to the fun and comraderie. Robert and I shared a car with Joe and Joyce Prusaitis from Billings, MT, to Sheridan, WY. We decided to take the "scenic route" rather than the interstate. It was beautiful and scenic, but took a bit longer than I expected. Gabe and Janice Ayson and Henry Hobbs followed, so I was a bit nervous about cut-offs already: getting our drop bags there in time.

We got our drop bags dropped off, then tried unsuccessfully to eat dinner somewhere besides the pre-race dinner. But we did not want to wait an hour for a table, so we headed to the organized dinner. Food was good and the pre-race buzz and visiting with other runners is always a fun part of the event.

With an eleven a.m. start, we got to "sleep in" and enjoy a breakfast. We went to the pre-race meeting, and by this time I was ready to get the show on the road. The 11 a.m. start ends up being just too long waiting. Finally, Joyce drives us to the start. I take a bunch of pictures and enjoy milling about and smack-talking.

The national anthem is sung, I have my usual teary moment being so thankful that I am actually at the starting line of such an endeavor. David Horton (I've heard so much about him and am excited to actually see him) says a prayer, and we are of on a long strange trip. Weather is good: cool and cloudy at the start. Forecast is mid 40's at night and mid-high 70's for Sat. We head up the road and I chat a bit with Dale (Jake) Jacobson from the area. He has also set up the Tongue River Aid Station. It is too early to need anything there, and we head onto the single track. The beauty of the area starts to unfold. A tremendous river rages below as we climb the trail.

We head into the open meadows. I have been looking at this photo for 2 years on my screen saver. Climb, climb, climb. Beautiful views all around. I run with Sammy V. for a bit and comment how it will be great to see the views to our backs as we are descending tomorrow.

I arrive at Fence springs (6 miles), and even though I do not need much water, I want to top of with this tasty cold water. Head on to Upper Sheep aid station (9 miles). Now how many times have you been offered big ol' shrimp on a run? They looked really good, and I'll bet they would work, but at that point I was not ready to risk something I had not tried before on a run. Likely my loss.

A short way down the road, the trail goes to the right, but the road keeps going on this nice downhill. I missed that turn 2 years ago, and as I near it, Henry Hobbs is on his way back up after his detour.

Finally we drop down to the road and eventually the first drop bag aid station at Dry Fork (13 miles). Janice is there to help and Joyce has just arrived there and Joe had already been through. I really did not need much at that time. Joyce had avocados and went to get some, but I was ready to go, and did not know where she had parked or how long it would taker her to get back. So I asked Janice to tell her I was on my way, and I was on my way.

This section is downhill, but jeep road with lots of ruts to dance along. I am cat-and mousing with Daniel during some of these sections. I head on and arrive at Cow camp. They promise breakfast tacos tomorrow morning. I have to moo before I leave, and received a few smiles in return.

The next thing I want to be sure not to miss is the collapsed tank spring. I remember that being the best tasting water I've ever had. I topped off my bottle even though I did not need much water. While running, I am fretting about what the night will bring and already trying to decide whether to take my long pants with me from footbridge.

I reach Bear Camp (27 miles) and I compliment the aid station workers on hauling all their stuff in. They said they only had to haul it 3 1/2 miles in from Footbridge. As I am leaving, a volunteer coming up the trail tells me there is a section with a lot of water in the trail. Shortly, I hook up with Jake again. He tells me that the mud is still going to get worse. About that time, I stepped in some muck and I was up to my calf in mud. With some effort, I managed to pull my foot out, fortunately along with my shoe. Allen Wrinkle passes me in this section. He had been refueling at Bear Camp and seems to be feeling good now. I recall this section from before being a really fun downhill, but the mud and water do not allow good running. Each time I come across a particularly muddy or watery section, I think this must be what the volunteer was talking about. When I encounter the section that the trail is virtually a stream, I decide that I found that section. The trail levels out a bit and I start looking for Footbridge. Finally I see the bridge, pause a minute crossing it to watch the river roar by, and head into the aid station. (30 miles)

I am greeted by Moogy and sorry to hear he has pulled a groin muscle and dropped. He helps me with my stuff. I decided to take the time to change socks and do a quick footbath since I had been in so much mud. I spend a bit more time in this aid station than I wanted to, but not too bad. I do my weigh in. I am up from 125 to 132. They look at me askance, but decide that my wet, muddy shoes probably weigh 5 lbs. I head out of the aid station pretty much on track of my goal times.

As I continue through this section towards the Narrows AS (34 miles), I am happy to be well ahead of dark, unlike 2 years ago. I believe it is in this section I pick up Gary Culver, who is the former RD for Crown King Scramble (a race that is on my to do list). It is his 1st Bighorn and we talk about the need to be 2-3 hours ahead of the 5 am cut-off at Porcupine. At the Narrows aid station, I grab a bit of broth, refill my bottles, and head out to do the longest stretch between aid stations. This is a pretty section running along the river. I look for the place where I stopped to wait for Robert last time, but could not pick it out. I finally reach Spring Marsh (40 miles). I think it was between Spring Marsh and Elk Camp that I turned on my flashlight. Gary and I are wondering when we might see the leader and Karl Metzer soon came blasting by with Mike Wolf about a minute behind. It seems like a really long way to Elk camp. I am wondering when I will see Joe and the other Austin folks up ahead. Somewhere in here there are some log bridges to cross, one with a rope to balance and one that I chose to crawl across. OK, I am a wimp, but that water was flowing fast. I finally see the lights of Elk camp (44 miles). Leaving there I brace myself for the snowfields. I used my lesson hard learned from the last attempt and followed the tramped path through the snowy parts. I managed to get through without post-holing, but the ups and downs over the mounds of snow and the unavoidable mud muck was definitely trying. However, the snow and cold mud numbed the pain in my heel where I had been feeling a blister forming since shortly after leaving footbridge and I almost talked myself into ignoring it.

Finally, I see Devil's Canyon Road marking only 1 more mile to Porcupine. I take note of the turn I missed last time to give myself a mental picture of how it looks. This year there was a arrow in the road. So I head on through still more mud and snow to the bustling little city of Porcupine (48 miles). Janice is there to greet and help. I go inside, weigh in at 131, and ask a guy if there is a blister person in the house. Yea, I'll get him he says, then turns around and with a smile, says I'm here. He wants to work on me in that warm room, but I ask to sit in a less heated room, and end up next to Joe who is working on calorie replacement. I was real surprised he was still there even though I had not seen him coming down. I peel off my right shoe and I am glad I decided to assess damages. My heel was past blister stage with an area about the size of a nickel minus the top layer of skin. Blister guy and lady cleaned and dried but could not get band-aid/duct tape to stick. So they tried tagaderm, which stuck, but offered no padding. I figured just having it covered was sufficient. While they are working on that foot, Janice and aid people are getting my drop bag, a delicious grilled cheese sandwich and helping with my bottles. I am changing my other sock and switching to Hardrock shoes, all while blister crew is working on my heel. I knew new shoes and socks would only be dry momentarily, but I thought it best to have shoes rubbing somewhere else.

With all this, even though I was trying to get out of the aid station as quickly as possible, I spent 30-40 minutes there. It was 2:10 am when I left. Midnight to 2 was my goal, so I am in good shape, well ahead of the 5 am cut-off. I slip on my Marmot jacket and some gloves as I figured I would need them after being in the warmth of the aid station. It was windy and a bit cold, but not near as cold as it could have been, so I was glad I opted not to carry the extra pants. Joe has already left and Lynn Ballard and I head out together. We see Gabe heading in, probably only minutes before Gabe fell and broke his leg right above his ankle. Lynn and I make our way through the snow mounds and mud muck, and he makes the left turn just as I see the sign in the road. I am happy to not miss the turn!! I felt like Lynn was baby-sitting me through the snow fields. I told him to go ahead if he wanted, but he seemed content, and I was quite happy to have the company. We join up with Joe. Also picked up Gary Culver again somewhere through here. I can't help but feel Joe and Lynn are holding back to make sure I am ok in this nasty part, so I tell them to go ahead if they want. Just before arriving at Elk Camp (53 miles), we see Robert coming out. I stop to see how he is feeling. He knows and I know that he is just about in the same place as we were 2 years ago... still with a glimmer of hope of beating cut-offs and finishing. He had some stomach issues early in the game, but was feeling good now and still going for it. I do not want to chat for long though, because I would like to hang on to Joe and Lynn's energy as long as I can. I go into the aid station, get some broth and my bottles topped off, and see the guys heading out. I just figured they actually heeded my words about not needing to wait on me, and when they saw me stop to talk to Robert, they just continued their race. So I gobble down my soup and head out, hoping to be able to rejoin them. I excuse my way around some guys in the trail, saying I am trying to catch some friends. Geez, I think. Where did they go? They must really be moving? A bit further down the trail, I hear someone call my name from behind. Who's calling, I say. Joe, Joe says. I stop dead in my tracks and turn around. How did you get back there, I ask. We had a good laugh on that one. They had moved off near the fire to wait for me, and I saw those other guys take off. Of course, in my 55-mile middle of the night stupor, it did not dawn on me that the guys I passed should have been Joe and Lynn and there was no one else in sight. Oh well.

We continue our journey. When we reach the skinny bridge, I follow Lynn's lead of stepping sideways instead of toes first and I made it across STANDING!! We have some easy downhill in this section. Joe says he would be quite happy taking the rest of the run in together. I know our strengths and weaknesses are so different, and fear that would jeopardize either of us finishing. I am running full tilt and I feel Joe right on my heels. I step aside and say, you go. And he does. I figure we will either meet up again down the trail, or at the finish line. I am really glad they did, as I also now reach the time that I have to stop to pee about every other step, it seems like.

I catch the guys again at Spring Marsh (56 miles). We head out together. This is the section in which Robert's and my fates were sealed 2 years ago, and I am really thinking about Robert and wondering how he is doing. I think I am right on course timewise to be out of footbridge by 8 or 8:30. Then Joe says he was out by 7 a.m. last time (and he finished at about 8:30 p.m.). So I start thinking maybe I really need to rush there and not take time to change shoes/address blister. Joe votes for clean socks. The guys pull ahead. I remember a section on the way out where we had to wade through the river. I keep looking for it, but it does not appear. Did the river recede? Did I miss a section????!!

I reach the Narrows AS (63 miles), have a bit of broth, and shake my head as they say something about it being downhill to footbridge. Though it is an overall downhill drop, there is a lot of up and down and up in this section. I remember thinking that there was a lot of uphill when we walked it last time, and I remembered correctly. And I am sick of the fricking mud. Then I reach the section where we have to go through the river. I am relieved that I did not screw up and miss something. Up and down and up and down and finally Footbridge appears. (66 miles)

They weigh me in. 131 or 132, virtually the same as last time through there. I ask for blister assistance. The guy says something like follow me to my office, but I turn around and he is gone. So I head over to my drop bag. Lynn and Joe are still there. I find a chair by Lynn and sit down and share his footbath water. I heed Joe's advice of cleaning the crap out of the socks. And glad I did. A good layer of sand had accumulated since Porcupine. The bandage on my heel had disintegrated. Aid has gotten sparse, but that is ok. I cleaned my wound as best as I could with wet-wipes, dried it, and put a band-aid on it, knowing it would not last long, but at least get me up part of the upcoming climb. Had some pancakes and sausage for breakfast, and Oswego again.

As expected, the steep downhill on the way out was even steeper on the way up. What a climb. A bear of a climb into Bear Camp (70 miles). I recall the volunteer who said they only had to haul their stuff 3 ½ miles in. Thank you, volunteers. I catch up again with Joe and Lynn, and Allen is also there. I am happy to know the worst climb is over, but still a long way to go. We continue our journey as the sun emerges from the clouds that protected us during the bear climb and it starts to get hot, heading toward (as Joe said) the reward for the climb is the upcoming spring. The coldest, freshest, bestest water in the world and a brief sit down. We continue on toward Cow camp. Any water crossing is now a chance to cool off. We find Jake sitting beside the trail. He has is having a bad moment, but he declines our offer to help and says we do not need to notify the aid station. Cow Camp appears on the horizon and we reach the next oasis. (77 miles)

So where is the breakfast you promised us on the way out? I ask though it is after noon by now. Well, we still have bacon. That hit the spot along with some fruit. It is hot and exposed and they even have cold water and chairs to sit in for a bit. Joe says let's go and Oswego.

I am thinking 1 1/2 hours for this section and all is good. I do not realize that this stretch is virtually all uphill, but Joe remembers. He says add an hour to that. It is a long, hard, hot climb. Allen pulls ahead and I am just ahead but out of talking distance from Joe and Lynn. Who can talk anymore anyway? I decide to listen to my Ipod for the 1st time in the whole event. Wet feet being accepted as normal, spending as much time in each water crossing to cool off is a plus to cool off. Dry Fork is in sight - the Austin group is there cheering us up the hill and ready to take care of us. (83 miles)

It is here I see the picture of the toll Bighorn has taken. In addition to Moogy dropping at footbridge, we are greeted by Gabe on crutches, Robert, Henry, and Daniel. And they were all cheering us and waiting on us hand and foot. I refueled with spiz and heed, had one of those tasty turkey roll ups and a red bull (gives you wings). I got some of my papaya enzyme for Joe who was having some stomach issues. One more sock change and again amazed at how much dirt was in my socks, even with gaiters. I head on out while Joe and Lynn are still taking care of business.

Things are going so great for me. My only problems were the blister on my heel and one I could feel forming under my right middle toe, but both manageable. My quads are pretty shot, so I take some ibuprofen in anticipation of the downhills. I press on, knowing that at any moment the wheels could fall off, but that does not seem likely. Soon the skies darken and the wind and rain kicks up. It is not raining very hard, but the wind is cool, so I stop to put on my golite jacket. If it does really dump, I do not want to get chilled in my depleted condition. But I am thinking that this is turning on Joe's engine. Soon I hear some jocularity behind me. It is Joe and Santhosh (who is running the 50 miler). Sure enough, the rain revived Joe and we bring it in to Upper Sheep (88 miles).

Joe says we have one more climb, and I finally figure out where the "haul" is. I don't want to climb anymore, I whine to Joe. I stagger up the climb. Santhosh is there waiting for Joe. Joe has coached Santhosh for this run, and Santhosh wants to finish with Joe, even though he could have gone ahead. We sit atop one of the breathtaking scenics of Bighorn before the final ride in. And what a ride it was. I cannot believe how much I actually ran in the last 10 miles of this event. Luckily, Joe was taking it "easy". Which meant full tilt on this downhill for me. Those views I wanted to enjoy on the return trip? All I saw was my feet. Lynn and Mark joined us on this section. Lynn gave me a very good tip to point my toes from side to side rather than just straight down the hill. Not only did that help me control the downhill, I think it did wonders to decrease the after race soreness. Santhosh also got to show off his gymnastic tumbling skills to us as he leaped into the air and did a roll. (His version of the Snake Dance.) Suddenly, Joe and Santhosh are way ahead, but they wait at Lower Sheep. We do not really need anything there, so we continue our descent alongside the beautiful, roaring Tongue River. We finally reach the Tongue River AS (95 miles), in a daze, but knowing with only five miles of road, nothing can stop us now. Joe says, we have 3 hours to make it in. I say, you have a problem with that? Joe says Nnoooo.

Well, that road was a bitch. Coming off our mountain playground where we had been for the last 30 hours on to the road, it seemed like the run should be done, but it was not. We had plenty of time to walk/run it in. It got hot again. The wind blew up and blew the cottonwood fluff all around. We ran for short bursts and then walked, cat and mousing with some others. Dano met us and joined in for a bit, giving us updates on who did what in the shorter races. We got to the Last Chance aid station, had some coke, and continued. How much longer could this "easy" part possibly last?

Finally we reach the point where we can see the pavement and the turn leading to Scott Park. Joe says, we start at that telephone pole and run it in. The three of us together. That seems pretty far to me (it is probably a quarter of a mile) but we reach the pole and start running. Down the road, take a right to the bridge, I am dying, I need to walk, I tell Joe. No, you will have to re-write your race report if you walk. I haven't written it yet, I said. He did not listen. We turn to the entrance to the park, and finally into the park. Then we are greeted by a roar of cheers from our HCTR friends. A strong finish with about 1 hour and 20 minutes to spare, and my business is finished.