From owner-ultra@caligari.Dartmouth.EDU Wed Jul 23 09:52:38 1997 Date: Wed, 23 Jul 1997 10:49:15 -0600 (MDT) To: ultra@caligari.dartmouth.edu From: "Brian L. Scott" Subject: A Hardrock Pacer's Tale: Brian Scott's saga of an incredible journey Dear Mr. Pilon, Please consider the following as part of your Hardrock 100 coverage: My family and I were hiking in upper Yankee Boy basin, which is about 8 miles west of Ouray. I kept looking south towards Governer basin as we gained altitude. I knew that I would soon be able to see the craggy St. Sophia ridge that lies at the head of Governer basin. I finally saw the ridge as we came upon a small lake high up in Yankee Boy. I scanned it for the square notch that defined Virginus pass, and was astounded when I found it. Snow totally covered the scree slope directly below the pass, and the two scree descents below it were also covered with snow. Hardrock was going to be very challenging this year, and I was looking forward to pacing Joel Zucker the full allowed pacer distance, 58 miles, from Ouray to the finish at Silverton. I would pick him up about 10 miles after he negotiated Virginus. I was wondering what story he would have to tell. I was at the Ouray aid station waiting for Joel at 7:00 pm. The runners enter the Ouray aid station over a small suspension bridge that spans a creek. I could hear the bridge squeak every time a runner came over. It squeaked many times before Joel arrived, but he was in good spirits and energy when he did. The weather was threatening, sometimes raining for short periods of time. However, it never really dumped, and this was to be the pattern for the whole run. It was something else to worry about, but never really anything to endure. Joel arrived around 10:30 pm and we were heading out of Ouray about twenty minutes later. We came to the crossing of Umcompagre river about a mile out of Ouray. There was a rope there and we crossed without problem. My feet would remain wet for the rest of the run. The extra snow meant lots of extra water on the course, and numerous stream crossings of depth well above the ankle. We spent most of the early morning ascending Bear Creek canyon. We could hear the loud roar of the creek at the bottom of the canyon, but only pitch black answered back when I pointed my headlamp at the bottom. A headlamp pointed across the canyon showed a shear rock wall. Joel’s lids were getting heav as he negotiated the narrow trail. I kept talking to him to make sure he was still awake. One slip and he would be at the bottom of the canyon. We hit the Engineer aid station around 4:00pm. We are near the head of the canyon and only the meadow at the top stands between us and Engineer pass. We take in hot chocolate, sandwiches and soup. Our feet are freezing cold from the stream crossings. Joel warms his feet for a few minutes on the fire the volunteers made, and then we head for the meadow and the final push for the top of the pass. Joel and I head out at a pretty good pace, but around a mile from the top Joel begins to crash. If I didn’t know better I would say he was on the final pitch of Everest, without oxygen. He takes a step and rests, takes another step and rests, and this is how he spends the last half-hour of the ascent. I keep talking to him, trying to pull him up the final climb, but I am not sure he hears me. He has his own commentary going, which I cannot understand. Maybe he thinks that he is on the final pitch of Everest himself. As the sky lightens, and we make the top, Joels spirits lift. We run most of the way down to Grouse Gulch aid station. We both change socks at Grouse gulch and take in large amounts of food. Joel looks very good as we leave the aid station and start making the climb to Grouse-American pass. A mile or so up the climb we begin passing runners. By the time we reach the pass we have passed two runners and Joel is moving well. The wind on top of the pass is very strong and we rapidly descend into American basin to escape it. We plow through several snow fields as we head around the top of the basin and make the climb to Handies’ south ridge. Joel slows again as we make the final ascent of Handies and says that he can really feel the altitude. He told me later he got a nose bleed on the ascent, but was afraid to tell me for fear I would make him quit. We shoot a few pictures on top and descend to the Sherman aid station. As we come off the mountain the temperature raises rapidly, and we are miserably hot as we roll into Sherman. Joel has a hard time eating at Sherman since it is so hot. We begin up Cataract Gulch fifteen minutes after our arrival at Sherman, and immediatly fall into low spirits. The section from Grouse to Sherman took longer than we had hoped. We both knew we had to pick up the pace, but neither one of us could come right out and state the obvious; we were up against it and needed to make very good time heading up Cataract Gulch. As we came to the top of the gulch, and began winding our way through the willows on the climb to the continental divide, it was clear we were falling even more behind. We had passed a few runners on the way up, and this lifted our spirits, but we were averaging only 1.8 miles per hour since Sherman. In a run that requires an average pace just over 2 miles per hour to finish in 48 hours, we were falling behind. We agreed that we had to keep moving in the hopes that Joel would rebound. Once again, as we reached the pass, Joel came back a little. We pushed hard the final three miles into Pthe Pole Creek aid station. Joel was feeling good as we left Pole cCreek at 6:00pm, a full hour and a half before the cutoff time. However, we were two and one-half hours ahead of the cutoff at Grouse Gulch, an hour and forty-five minutes at Sherman, and .... I didn’t like the way things were headed. The next leg to Maggie Gulch aid station was was a short one at 5.9 miles. We made a steady ascent of Pole Creek Valley towards the pass, and then fell to the Maggie Creek aid station. We had a good stop here, taking in a lot of food, and left at dusk. We were only one hour and fifteen minutes ahead of the cutoff. The climb up to Buffalo Boy ridge was steep, but Joel continued to be steady. A fourth class rock scramble of about 20 yards put us on top of the ridge. Another hundred yards and we were seemingly at a dead end. There was a twenty foot snow wall in front of us, and descents into the wrong basins on either side of us. After about five minutes of hunting around I saw steps in the snow wall, and then saw the marker at the base of the wall. I took the well carved steps to the top of the wall, and then traversed about thirty yards to the left on a gently sloping snow field before stepping onto terra firma. The traverse held a fair amount of exposure, and a high wind increased this effect. It was Joel’s turn next, and he was a bit apprehensive at first. However, he was standing beside me before I knew it and we were making the descent into Cunningham gulch. I remember thinking that nothing was going to keep this guy from finishing his second Hardrock. We arrived at Cunningham aid station around 12:30 am, only an hour ahead of the cutoff. I was beginning to drag a little, but my wife Sara was there to greet me and this really lifted my spirits. I had to remain high for Joel. We made a very quick stop and didn'’t take in any food out of respect for the time. The aid station captain, Aaron Goldman, took me aside and told me we needed to make the top of the falls in an hour if we were to have a serious chance. I had this on my mind as we crossed Cunningham creek and began our ascent to Dives-Little Giant pass. We climbed steadily towards the pass and made the top of the falls in fifty minutes, which I took as a good omen. My eyes were beginning to shut, and I stumbled near a precipice. I sat down a few times to wait for Joel and fell asleep. As we approached the pass I began to lose energy and Joel actually took the lead for the last few hundred yards to the pass. I knew at this point that he had an excellent chance of finishing the run in less than 48 hours. At the top of the pass we traversed a very icy snow field with a very steep drop off. We could clearly see the trail markers leading us into Little Giant basin, but Joel became convinced that we were heading the wrong way. I pulled the course description and it all fit, but Joel was bothered by the fact we couldn’t see Silverton from the top of the pass. I told him the city was behind some land feature, but he wasn’t convinced. He insisted we were off course to the point I actually believed it for awhile. We paced back and forth over the pass and icy dropoff three times before Joel finally agreed to descend by way of markers. We had a very wild time on top of that pass, but in retrospect it was a reflection of Joel'’s extreme fatique. He overcame many obstacles in this run, including icy climbs and descents, extremely low energy levels, and ice cold, numb feet. However, the largest obstacle at Hardrock is the mind, and it was the mind that was giving Joel his greatest challenge in the final hours of the run. A few miles down the descent I turned off my headlamp and saw the lights of Silverton behind a ridge. I told Joel to do the same and he begins to be more confident. We push on. We are looking for Astra Gulch road that will put us on the final trail to the end. We come to an intersection, but not the right one. A couple minutes below this intersection I get a little paranoid myself. I run back to the intersection and confirm we made the right turn. I run back to Joel and we continue on to find the right intersection, and begin the final two miles to the finish. It'’s 5:33 am as we hit the trail that skirts town and eventually dumps out above Kendall ski hut and the finish. There must be a marker every twenty yards, but Joel keeps asking me if we are on course. The trail reminds me of an obstacle course with beaver ponds, logs, rocks, and stream crossings. The trail sometimes goes slightly away from town, which makes Joel very nervous. I try to keep him focused on running as fast as he can. Finally, the ski hut comes into sight. I wait for Joel and tell him the finish is all his. He invites me to finish with him, but I let him go ahead and jog behind. I felt that he had earned the moment, that it was singly his accomplishment. True, I may have eased the tough miles, I may have kept him on course when his mind was foggy, but Joel carried his body and soul over the loop that is Hardrock. He took the long slide down Virginus, climbed the steep ice atop Buffalo Boy ridge when he was scared, and decided to leave Cunningham for the finish with all his might in the final hours. Joel started Hardrock alone, and I thought it was fitting that he finish alone. My reward was experiencing the beauty of the San Juans, and sharing a little high adventure with a fellow human being. Brian Scott bscott@lanl.gov