CASCADE CREST CLASSIC 100 - AUG 24-25, 2002 by Kathy Welch We arrived at the Parkside Café (start/finish 'line') at 8am the morning of the race for breakfast and the pre-race briefing. As we were leaving the truck, Joanie says, "It appears I have locked the keys in the truck". Yikes! Now I was really nervous. As I walked to the restaurant, I tried to remember if we had a hide-a-key on the truck. With my 'start outfit' still in the truck, I sincerely hoped so! The race started at 10am sharp, and we took off on pavement for the first two miles. It seemed hot ... I think the humidity was higher than I am used to. However, once we left the trailhead for Goat Peak, we were in nice, thick shade. We also were climbing and climbing and climbing ... Someone remarked that Wasatch also starts with a 4,000 ft climb (including Chinscraper). Since this wasn't at altitude, I hoped it would be easier. It wasn't, but eventually, we started down the other side of the peak on rough single-track trail. We didn't go far before we started climbing again. It took me two hours to run (okay, walk) the section between Goat Peak Trailhead and Cole Butt. Then down we went on nice fire road for three miles, then up for two to Blowout Mt aid station. I remember thinking that I just wanted to get to the PCT ...I love the PCT for its gentle grades and well-groomed trails. After Blowout Mt., it was up, up, up again on single track for two miles until, finally, the PCT. Once on the PCT, I started to relax and enjoy the run. This section of the PCT was predominately through old-growth forest. The trails were covered in wonderful hemlock needles, and were smooth and wide. The final downhill to Tacoma Pass on mile 24 was a blast. That section of eight miles of single track took me just under two hours to run. At Tacoma Pass, I was treated like a racecar in a pit stop. Ginger and Karen took off my shoes and socks, put fresh socks on, then my shoes back on. During this time, Joanie was getting me food (turkey sandwich and fruit drink), filling up my bottles, and resupplying my fanny pack. Reilly was supervising. (BTW, the CCC100 is VERY dog friendly. I could have even run with Reilly during the race.) The next stretch to Stampede Pass Joanie had run just the day before. She told me the views of Ranier were 'awesome'. Unfortunately, Mt. Rainer was almost completely covered in clouds, and I never even got a picture of it. Anyway, I had told her to leave me a 'sign' on the course that I could look for race day. Sure enough, I spied two rocks piled on top of a PCT post that looked like her doing. This section went by easily. However, there were many more clear-cut sections to run through than on the Tacoma Pass leg. The clear-cut sections were okay because you could get views towards other peaks (although it was still cloudy). But the trail wasn't nearly as nice as in the old-growth forests. The trail was narrower, and there were roots and rocks to watch out for. This 11 1/2 mile section took me 2:50 to run (with a small aid station about 2/3 of the way through). By now, I was getting a little lonely. With only 60 starters, there weren't many folks to visit with. It was great seeing my crew at Stampede Pass. Again, I was treated very efficiently. And, I could tell my crew was having a good time. You must leave this aid station with a flashlight, so I grabbed my new 4 LED green light flashlight, and a paper jacket, heeding the warning of aid station personnel that it was raining on other parts of the course. I put on wrist straps to ward off motion sickness (I have gotten it twice pacing at night in the last few years), and in addition I took a ginger capsule to ward off nausea! I also changed from my singlet to a short sleeve Hi-Tec shirt. It was now 6:30pm. Probably the easiest section of single-track trail was from Stampede Pass to Meadow Mountain aid station. No climbs of any significance. I also started visiting with a 100 mile 'virgin' from the Tri-Cities area of Washington. But before long, he went on ahead, and I was left alone for about 1/2 mile of darkness before the aid station. It was far enough to realize that the green LED just wasn't giving me enough light on the trail. So at the aid station, I grabbed the big 7 LED white light flashlight. I also dropped off the jacket (the stars were out), and went to one single water bottle. You sure drink a LOT less when it isn't hot! I also had gotten chilly right before the aid station, so I put on a thin long sleeve Hi-Tec shirt under the short sleeve shirt. I would run in this outfit until 8:45am the next day. Soon after the aid station, I caught the two guys that the virgin had been running with. It turns out it was Ron Nicholl and Dave Dutton, both veterans of this race, and many other ultras. I asked them if we were on a 28-hour pace, and they thought perhaps slightly slower ... a few years ago when they finished in 28:04 or so, it had been light at the last aid station. I stayed with them for most of this section ... their uphill pace seemed to match mine. I was also a little bit leery of getting motion sick. However, once the trail started downhill, I just simply could not keep up with them. But, at least, I wasn't nauseated. I just continued to make my way alone to Olallie Meadow. I was REALLY looking forward to Joanie pacing me through the next section. At Olallie Meadows, I had two pieroggis. I could have eaten (and probably should have!) about three or four more. They were sure good. I had soup and yogurt. I was anxious to get going on the next stretch. So Joanie and I took off downhill through old clear-cut. It was just overgrown enough for me to REALLY have trouble seeing the trail. It seemed the LED flashlight was casting huge shadows onto the trail. I don't know if the old halogen bulbs would have been better or not ... I finally left the PCT after 33 miles, and hit a steep, rocky road that seemed to drop a lot. All of a sudden, we could see a bunch of glow sticks (I had been following them since before Meadow Mountain). We knew this signified the turn onto the 'rappel' section of trail. Joanie and I stopped long enough to put on gloves, and for me to put on a 3 LED white light headlamp, and to put away the big flashlight. I thought the section would go easier if I could use both hands to get down the ropes. It was FUN. It was EASY. I really think the gloves made the big difference. They said it would take 15 minutes to get down. I think we were down in 5 minutes or so. Next 'obstacle' was the 2.3 mile long tunnel. We started running through it with me just using the headlamp. All of a sudden, I realized that my breath was causing vapor to cloud the area lit by the headlamp. I put away the headlamp, and got out the green LED flashlight. I didn't think it would be a problem (and it wasn't) because the tunnel is wide, and extremely well groomed. If you were REALLY adventurous, you could probably run through the tunnel with no flashlight whatsoever. However, it would be just about as dark in the tunnel as it is during cave tours when they turn out the lights. As we ran through the tunnel, we kept shining our lights onto the walls, seeing different markings that we couldn't figure out. It would have been helpful to have the 1/2 way point marked. But we figured we were running 12 min/miles, and sure enough we popped out 27 minutes after we entered. Joanie ran ahead on the mile of pavement getting to Hyak, so she could help the crew. I ate a fruit cup here (really good, and I had had one earlier, maybe at Blowout Mt?), pudding, and more soup. I changed into road shoes (the next 15 miles would be on good dirt road), and took just my Green LED flashlight. Ginger joined me for this next stretch. By now, I couldn't run continuously even on flat pavement, but I could run for a ways, and power walk. Once the uphill really started (about two miles out of the aid station), I just power walked. I passed maybe four runners in this stretch. (One couple had on tights ... no way was it cool enough for tights.) The uphill went by quickly, and near the top of Keechelus Ridge, Joanie was parked out on the road near the aid station. I ate some more (I ate at every aid station!), and took off downhill. Well, not exactly, the aid station is not right at the top ... we had more uphill to do before we started down this great grade. I could run with my flashlight off (2 day old full moon) through this stretch. When Ginger and I got to the Kachess Lake aid station, I had my crew get me a grilled cheese sandwich from the aid station. Unfortunately, it was made with processed cheese, and I could only eat 1/2 of it. I guess I was dreaming of Tillamook Medium Cheddar ... picky picky picky. I had planned to change back into my trail shoes here (the next section, well, you'll see), but decided to just stick with the Nimbus, since I would be doing seven more miles of dirt roads after the trail from hell (read on). Plus, I figured I would just be walking anyways ... A short distance after leaving the aid station, the glow sticks went straight up the side of a hill on a trail (?) of thick powdery dirt. After the short climb, we hit the section called 'connect the dots'. There is NO trail ... you simply look ahead for the next glow stick, try to find orange ribbons and forge through the trees, shrubs, and bushes. It was in here that I went off trail (????). I got to a section where I could see no more glow sticks or ribbons, so I simply continued down the same direction. After a couple of minutes of this, Ginger says perhaps we should go back to the last glow stick. I agree, and we go back to it, and try again. Well, the trail (????) turned, and there were ribbons. Once I made the correct turn, I could see the next glow stick in the distance. For the next 1/4-mile or so, we went over, around, and under (on my belly, my favorite) so many blow downs that I lost count. Eventually, though, we hit a wide, groomed, gravel trail that led us to the trail from hell. At the trailhead, a sign announced that the lake trail is rated "most difficult". Duh. This bad boy was steep, rocky, and rooty ... numerous small climbs and drops. Sometimes the trail would drop down a rock face, other times it would go up at a 25% grade over huge rocks and blow downs. I thought this section (along with the connect the dots stretch) would take me 2 1/2 hours, so I just tried to make the best of it. My mind was totally concentrated on the task at hand. I think I actually liked this stretch! Unfortunately, Ginger wasn't having nearly the fun. She had never been on any trail like this one before. But she did great, especially after a couple of guys caught us. She started chatting with them, relaxed, and had a much better time of it. Somewhere in this stretch it got light, and I put away the flashlight. Towards the end of this section, the trail from hell got MUCH better, and we were treated to a nice wide trail/narrow road that was nearly clear of any obstacles. Right before the aid station, we crossed Mineral Creek. There were two downed trees you could use to cross it (and keep your feet dry), or you could just simply wade through it. I chose the down trees, and I was pleasantly surprised to find that I was still fairly limber after 75 miles. I clambered up on them with no problems, and my balance was still good too. Besides the small aid station between Tacoma and Stampede Pass, this was the only other place I knew any of the aid station personnel. Geri Kilgariff was the aid station captain. It is sure great to see people you know at aid stations! I ate donuts, had another Mocha Starbucks Drink (Oops ... forgot, I had been drinking them all night). When I asked for my coffee, Karen, who would start pacing me from here, told me she had a story to tell me about the coffee ... and off we went. It seems that after the Kachess Lake Aid Station, Karen and Joanie had gone back to the Parkside Café/Texaco Station to get the requested coffee. The Texaco Station was lit, and it looked open, so they went there. The door was ajar, so they figured, cool, coffee time! In fact, it looked like the coffee was already made. When Joanie turned around to tell Karen to get the coffee, (she was going to the restroom), she noticed that the framing around the entry door was completely shattered. Joanie immediately realized that there had been a break in. She told Karen, and from what I hear, Karen set a PR in the 100 yard dash getting out of there. Once safely in the truck, driving down the freeway, they called 911 and reported the break in. Alas, no coffee for me or my crew ... Well, that story kept me entertained. It's a good thing, too, because the seven-mile climb up to the No Name Trailhead seemed to go on FOREVER. I pointed out to Karen that the road cut we could see WAY up the ridge was probably our route. About 1/2 way between the two aid stations, there is an unstaffed aid station. Joanie had parked there. When she saw us coming, she let Reilly off leash, and he gladly ran down the hill to greet us. That was fun. But we didn't stop long because I just wanted this section to be over. As we neared the trailhead, the road had some sections that were runnable, and that was a welcome relief from the miles of walking I had done. The views from the road were nice, but again, there were clouds hanging around the mountains that we could see off in the near distance. At No Name Ridge Trailhead, I finally got some coffee (yippee!), and another donut. I changed back into my trail shoes, and put on a pair of clean socks. Unfortunately, these socks were thinner than all the others I had been wearing, and I think that caused blisters in the last stretch. I took off the long-sleeve shirt, and we were on our way to the Cardiac Needles. But not before we encountered another section of blow downs. Randy, the R.D. said there were probably 40 or so. Don't know. Didn't count. And the needles were HARD. The trail would go up 400-600 ft, then back down 400-600 ft. I think someone said there were 5 or 6 of these climbs. Again, the views were really good, and the trail was fairly runnable (except for the blow downs, and the steep uphills!). In this section, I started eating GU regularly. I was hungry! Anyway, we made it to the Thorp Mt. Aid station. From here, we were required to climb Thorp Mountain, grab a poker chip, and then return back to the aid station. Aid station personnel told me it would probably take about 30 minutes to do the round trip. "I don't think so", I thought to myself. I worked really hard getting to the top, and tried to run back down as quickly as I could, although the trail was fairly rocky. Got to the bottom, and announced to the aid station, "11 minutes up/9 minutes down". Again, I realized that I must be doing something right in order to accept a 'challenge' like that after 86 miles! The next stretch to French Cabin Creek aid station seemed runnable, with yet another needle to deal with. At the top of that needle, I put Karen in front for the first time, and told her to run down to the aid station at a normal training pace. I then just tried to stay with her. It worked! We picked up the pace, and it took my mind off 'things'. We didn't stay long at the aid station; it was time to get this thing over with. I knew the next stretch was 'almost' all downhill, and thought I was in pretty good shape to take advantage of that fact. Well, mentally I was okay, but I must have been getting pretty gosh darn tired, because it took us two hours to cover this 7 1/2 mile stretch. At the aid station, I thought I heard them say that the first four miles (after we did just one more climb, yippee) were a gradual downhill, then you had to do some switchbacks for a couple of miles. Well, in my mind, I thought they meant uphill switchbacks. When we finally got to the switchbacks they were downhill. My mistake was not remembering (or choosing not to) that it was a couple miles of these switchbacks! I kept thinking we MUST be almost to the trailhead. I should have put Karen in the lead because every time I looked ahead to see if I could see the road, I would stop and walk. Finally, we dropped off the trail, and stopped at the last aid station. I drank a whole Mt. Dew, gave my pack and shirt to Joanie, and I took off to run the last 2 1/2 miles with both Karen and Ginger. Joanie drove around to the finish area, parked the truck in the shade (smart, isn't she), and started back on the course with Reilly. The last section of course is not pretty, but it is flat and runnable. I made good time on this stretch. I knew I wouldn't catch the guy in front, and I was fairly certain no one was close enough to catch me from behind, so I was relaxed (although I did tell Ginger it was her job to look behind for any runners!). About 1/2 mile from the finish line, Joanie and Reilly joined us, and all five of us ran/walked/laughed our way to the finish line. As we approached the finish line, about 20 people were there to greet us, including both Randy Gehrke (the R.D.) and Ron Behrmann (the asst RD). I was immediately offered a chair and a glass of Odwalla Lemonade! Randy handed me my buckle in its purple heart box (it is really, really nice). I had an absolutely great race, finishing in 28:15. I never felt depressed or sleepy or even cranky (you might want to check with my crew and pacers about the cranky part!). I think it was such a good run because: GREAT crew and pacers. Running a 100-mile race is a VERY selfish thing. To have such good friends and family take care of me was wonderful. They are extremely special. A new course in the mountains and new to me. I was always looking forward to the next section. I took Succeed (electrolyte capsules) every 1-2 hours throughout the race. I ate A LOT! Except for the first three miles, it was never hot. If anyone has specific questions about the course, the race, logistics, or just anything, ask away. I have my splits as well. Kathy Welch