Subject: Baldy Peaks 50K (long)
From: Bob Metzger <ultrabob@verizon.net>
Date: Mon, 26 Jul 2004 10:46:38 -0500

On the Baldy Peaks 50K website, there's a note that proclaims "Rated in
1990 as America's Toughest 50K." If a tougher one has been established
in the intervening 14 years, I sure don't need to know about it. This
was by far the toughest of the twenty 50Ks I have done, and my finish
time was hours slower than all of them. Come to think of it, it was
slower than about a half dozen of my 50 mile trail run finishes. Heat,
sun exposure, and 10,775 feet of ascent and descent conspire to make
Baldy a most formidable event. There's even a bonus mile+, to make it
officially 32.14 miles.

Chris and I were in southern California last week for the wedding of our
older son, Aidan, on Thursday, July 22. With the weekend free, we had
seen a terrific opportunity to find an ultra in the area as well. So, we
had signed up for Baldy way back in December or January, and were
rewarded for being early bird(brain)s with bib numbers 1 and 2. I
carried the burden of being number 1, although I suspected I'd likely
feel like number two by the end of the event. Our 19-year-old son, Ari,
had traveled with us for the wedding, and was therefore offered up as a
sacrificial race day volunteer. After three nights at hotels in Santa
Barbara, we had the distinct pleasure of spending Friday and Saturday
evenings at the home of Badwater Jeff Sauter and his family. Jeff also
put in a daylong volunteer shift, and he and Ari found time during the
day to get in some Baldy miles themselves.

Jeff rose early on Saturday, and made us a delicious breakfast of eggs,
biscuits, and gravy. Consequently, we arrived well-fueled at the
start/finish an hour before the 6:00 am start. I found the temperature
very pleasant at the start, high-60ish I would guess. On Jeff's advice,
I carried a hand-held bottle to supplement my 70 ounce camelbak, and
Chris did likewise. We started just as the sun rose, heading down a
paved road from the 5,000 foot start to a low point of 4,200 feet in
Baldy Village. At about mile two, we turned into the woods and started
to climb.

About a mile and a half and 1,360 feet of climb later, we refilled our
bottles at the Bear Flats aid station, which consisted of two volunteers
and a few gallons of water perched on a steep slope. From there, we
climbed 4,504 feet over the next 4.62 miles to the 10,064 foot summit of
Mount Baldy. We arrived there in remarkably good shape (and time) for a
couple of flatlanders, but we both definitely noticed the paucity of
oxygen up there. Ari and RD Larry Gassan were there to greet us. There
was no aid available there (hence Jeff's excellent advice), and we
wanted to get back to some oxygen-bearing air ASAP, so we headed quickly
down towards the Notch, 3.24 miles ahead and 2,206 feet below us.

The trail between the summit of Mount Baldy and the Notch is quite
varied, beginning with some very steep, gnarly single track called the
Devil's Backbone. This aptly named section had about a zillion
switchbacks, and dropoffs to either side that could be fatal. Chris took
off ahead of me, and within the first mile, took a hard fall that left
large, bloody gashes on her right knee, elbow, hip and both palms. Trail
dust quickly settled on her wounds and stopped the flow of blood, but
apparently not the pain. Evidently angered by this turn of events with
less than a third of the race behind her, she took off like lightning,
and I wondered if I would see her again before the finish. As we
descended the switchbacks on the fire roads that comprised the latter
miles of this section, I could see her far ahead of me.

At the Notch (mile 11.36 if you're keeping score) I stuffed myself with
a variety of food and had my camelbak and hat filled with ice. The 3.83
miles from there to Manker Flats involved an 1,800 elevation loss on
more switchbacked fire roads and a short stretch of pavement, and was
very runnable. I made the noon (6 hour) cutoff there (mile 15.19) by 45
minutes, and was greeted and attended to by Geri K and her crew. I took
about 5 minutes to eat a bit more and refill my camelbak and bottle,
happy with where I stood against the cutoff, and wanting to make sure I
took care of all my fuel and hydration needs for what I knew would be a
tough climb back out.

But I had underestimated just how tough that climb out would be. It was
only 2.78 miles to the Sierra Club Hut, but much of it was on single
track trail, and the elevation gain in that section was 2,200 feet.
Fortunately, much of the single track trail was wooded and shaded, but
it still seemed to take forever to get to the hut, where Ari and Jeff
and the rest of the aid station crew there took great care of me. They
humored me by telling me how great I looked and how well I was doing,
topped up my fluids once again, told me to go soak my head in the
spring, and sent me on my way. After the tough climb to the hut, I
figured it could only get better. Man, was I ever wrong.

It was only 1.71 miles from the hut back to the summit of Baldy Peak,
and on a different trail than our first summit. But the 1,864 feet of
elevation gain, totally exposed to the now broiling afternoon sun,
nearly did me in. The ice in my hat melted quickly, and my hat was bone
dry shortly thereafter. I huffed and puffed and cussed my way up a trail
that often morphed into nothing more than scree fields. I wondered if I
had lost the trail. I wondered if I had lost my mind. I wondered if I
was about to lose my life. I've run many tough sections of trail before,
but this was the toughest ever. I did a few faceplants, fell backwards a
couple of times (regardless of the fact that I was going UP a 30% grade
both times) and had some wonderfully entertaining and colorful
hallucinations. Somehow I miraculously reached the summit again, all of
19.68 miles into the race, and feeling like I had just been worked over
with a baseball bat from head to toe. Three women caught up to me near
the summit, and I vaguely recognized one of them as Chris. I wandered
around the summit for a few minutes looking for the Devil's Backbone
back to the Notch, and cleverly spotted the three women some distance
down it by the time it all registered on my semiconsciousness. I
followed them down the steep switchbacks, and found myself sitting on my
butt more than once. But as I descended, my head started to clear, and I
recalled that this was the area where Chris had fallen earlier. I
stepped carefully but quickly, and reached the Notch for the second
time, now at mile 22.92, and notably still at the same 7,800 feet above
sea level that it had been hours earlier. I was also 50 minutes ahead of
the 10.5 hour cutoff, which was also the final cutoff for the event. I
won't make you do the math here: it had taken me 4:20 minutes to
traverse the 7.73 miles from Manker Flats to the Notch. Yeah, folks,
that's slower than 33.5 minutes per mile - but note that I had GAINED 10
minutes against the cutoff at that pace. Incredible.

>From the Notch, I was instructed to run 1.5 miles out to Thunder
Mountain, including a climb of 787 feet to a summit of 8,587 feet. I was
told that I would be greeted at the summit by a volunteer who would
record my number and show me a picture, which I would have to describe
upon my third visit to the Notch. I dutifully climbed the mountain,
catching Chris on the way. We summited together, got our numbers
recorded and viewed the picture, and made it back to the Notch within
about 48 minutes of my departure. It had taken about 30 minutes to go
up, and about 18 to get back. We evidently described the picture with
sufficient accuracy to be allowed to finish the race, and thus departed
the Notch for the third time, now mile 25.92, with 6.22 miles and 2,800
feet of descent to go. We also agreed to run the rest of the way
together.

The first 3.83 miles was almost all runnable dirt road, and dropped us
from the 7,800 feet of elevation at the Notch back down to 6,000 at Geri
K's Manker Flats aid station. In deference to the heat, and relieved of
the pressure of cutoffs, we walked for the first mile or so, but once we
were cooled down a bit, we got a nice running pace going. We were
greeted at Manker Flats by Jeff and Ari along with Geri K and her crew,
and relaxed a little, took some photos, and used the facilities. The
final 2.39 miles are on paved road, and descend another 1,000 feet. We
ran all but the last 400 yards or so, which was maliciously uphill, and
finished hand-in-hand, to the cheers (and jeers for not running) of the
crowd, at 12:13:47. We had been the first to sign up, and nearly the
last to finish, trailed only by Jurgen Ankenbrand and Tom Crull, who
fought a heated battled for last place, a little more than a half hour
behind us.

Chris collapsed into a chair, and Jeff got to put his nursing training
to good use. I wandered off to change out of my clothes, which (to quote
from the pre-race briefing) smelled like a**. I should mention at this
point that this report was begun on the flight home on Sunday afternoon,
and would have been finished later Sunday evening had I not interrupted
it to spend a couple of hours with Chris at the local minor emergency
facility, where she was treated for a budding infection in her torn up
right elbow. I am pleased to report that as of this morning, the
swelling has gone down, and the red streak that had begun creeping from
it towards her heart has disappeared.

Baldy Peaks was a wonderful event, and every bit as tough as advertised.
The course was as scenic as it was tough. I took between 40-50 photos
during the event, and will post a link to them when they are ready.
Chris and I want to extend a huge thanks to RD's Larry Gassan and Andy
Roth, and all the great aid station captains and volunteers. Chris and
Ari and I also want to thank Jeff Sauter and his family for their
hospitality and kindness. You guys all rock. Ultrafolk, if you're
looking for a truly challenging and scenic 50K, get out to the LA area
for Baldy Peaks next July.

Just make sure you forget I'm the one who suggested it... 

Bob Metzger
Lakeville, MN