From owner-ultra@caligari.Dartmouth.EDU Tue Sep 10 18:30:04 1996 From: stanj (Stan Jensen) Date: Tue, 10 Sep 1996 18:27:20 -0700 To: ius-l@american.edu, ultra@caligari.dartmouth.edu Subject: WF 100: A Pacer's Perspective - LONG report (XP) (subtitled "The bone wasn't showin', so Joan kept goin' and goin' ...") It's 1:38pm on Monday and I'm standing at the trailhead of Purissima Creek Redwoods, getting ready to start an easy run of 9 miles with 2600' of change in about 90 minutes. It seems like an appropriate way to celebrate the fact that 24 hours ago I finished pacing my friend Joan Risse to her 33:38:57 finish at Wasatch Front, ending my 49 mile run with 24700' of elevation change in just over 19:21. What a contrast! I hope this report will entertain and/or enlighten you, whether or not you ever decide to be part of the WF100 adventure. A couple months ago my friend Joan signed up for Kettle Moraine and I volunteered to be her pacer, but she wasn't able to go, so when she told me that she'd entered Wasatch, I naturally offered again to be her pacer. Little did I know what I was in for, but we'd run our first 100 miler, Angeles Crest, together last year and it seemed like the right thing to do, especially since I planned (note the past tense) on running Wasatch in '98. Following Joan's advice, I packed lots of extra warm clothing and arrived in Salt Lake City on Thursday PM. Joan and Rick Gillespie met me at the gate. He was running his ninth 100 miler this year and had been paced by Joan last year at Wasatch. We went to dinner at Baci Trattoria downtown for dinner, then went back to the airport to pick up his pacer, Kathy Hamilton. The Super 8 (801-533-8878) is within 5 miles of the airport, clean, cheap and convenient. We messed around on Friday AM, hitting a clearance sale at Patagonia and Hind, then reached Sugarhouse Park by 3:00 for the briefing, etc. This is where I got my first taste of how different Wasatch is from Angeles Crest, Rocky Racoon and Western States (not that any of those are bad ... they're just different). It's very low-key, informal, brief, etc. They have a single bathroom scale for weigh-in and no wrist bracelet to wear! At the pre-race briefing, RD John Grobben declined to introduce the "celebrities", saying that all the runners were special. He said that runners could have more than one pacer at a time, but at remote aid stations like Desolation Lake "... only one of your pacers can be fed ...". They ended the briefing with a drawing for prizes, including shoes and several products from Ultimate, since Dana Miller was there. Dana also offered a free clinic to Cheetah-Wannabes after the formal briefing. We went back to Baci for another great dinner and saw someone with a Hardrock T-shirt and then King Jordan sat at the table next to us (small world, etc.). After dinner we moved to the Mt. Creek Inn (801-544-0999) on Hwy 89 about 10 minutes from the start. Rick stayed up until sometime after 10pm with last-minute preparations and Joan was a nervous wreck, too, because she kept confusing the aid station times last year (when she paced speedy Rick) to the times that she planned in order to just finish under 36 hours. The alarm went off at 4am Saturday and we left the motel at 4:20, reaching the Fernwood Picnic Ground around 4:30. Runners were milling about in the dark and Kathy and I wished Rick and Joan "good luck", took a few flash pictures and then around 5am the crowd surged up the hill to Chinscraper. We went back to the motel for three more hours of sleep, packed the car, got gas and groceries, then went back to the Super 8 to leave Joan & Rick's luggage, since we'd all be there again on Sunday night. We then drove to the Big Mountain aid station (mile 36.3), arriving around 11am. It was windy there and we'd leave the shelter of the car for a few minutes to visit the chart showing all the runners' in/out times at the previous four aid stations. Without compromising the runners' safety, they really go out of their way to make things easier for the crews and pacers. The lead runner came through just after noon and we could see runners approaching about 2-3 minutes before they came down the hill and crossed the road (Hwy 65?). Kathy and I took pictures, ate our lunch sandwiches, drank lots, socialized with the other crews and pacers, and then helped out when friends came through. Some runners even had their first (of several) pacers start there. Rick came through about 2:30, looking OK, and left soon thereafter. We were cheering John Medinger's arrival when I committed a cardinal sin: I missed seeing Joan arrive. Fortunately the aid station personnel took care of her and she was "discovered" by us within a few minutes, but I still feel real bad about that, since I know how great it is to have your friends/crew call your name as you arrive. She had been pushing her pace (she was 23 minutes slower than the 30:00 pace), so we tried to get her to slow down and take it easy, but it didn't seem to sink in. She was somewhat disoriented, looked hot and tired, and I was worried how she'd be in another 4 hours. Off she went. We left about 30 minutes later and drove the few miles to Lamb's Canyon, arriving around 4pm. We loafed around for an hour or so, watching runners come through and helping out those we knew. Boy, is it hard waiting for your turn to actually run! We made one last trip to the car to get our fanny packs ready and carry our surplus food to the aid station and then Rick finally arrived around 6pm. He looked wasted and said that he'd run out of water. Kathy filled his bottles and the two of them took off a few minutes later. Half an hour later Joan arrived (6:55), bleeding from one of three falls she'd had so far. She, too, looked pretty well tuckered out, but it was almost 7pm, she had run 51 miles and after a leg massage, a turkey and cheese sandwich and some first aid, we grabbed our warm clothes and flashlights and my part of the adventure began! From Lambs Canyon you run under the freeway (Hwy 80) and about 2 miles up a paved road, alongside a stream. We ran with Suzanne Williams and her pacer, Rick Spady (the '89 winner), for a bit and then they moved ahead. Joan was feeling a little better, now that she'd had food, had company, and was getting out of the heat. We started the climb up the trail to Bear Bottom Pass and then I learned that Joan was having trouble breathing. She'd need to stop every few minutes, wheeze a bit, hack up a muddy thing, and then we'd start up again. I was concerned, but I knew she'd let me know if it was getting worse. The good news is that she kept drinking and stopped to pee at least every 30 minutes (I did too). We ran in the twilight (crescent moon) until just after 9pm, then switched on our lights to make sure we'd see the ribbons (there were always enough ribbons or glow sticks so that you'd be sure you were on track). We reached the pass and ran slowly down the other side to the paved road. As we went up the 3 mile road to Big Water (mile 59.6), the temperature dropped noticeably. We reached the aid station around 10:15, I grabbed the drop bag and Joan went into the restroom to change into tights. Well, by the time she came out she was slightly hypothermic and so we wrapped her in a blanket and gave her Ramen soup and coffee until she was better. She'd warned me that the next section was very cold in '95 at Scotts Peak, so I had several layers on and carried some more with me. We'd spent 38 minutes there, but it was unavoidable. From Big Water we climbed yet another hill and eventually reached Dog Lake, which she knew from a training run. We passed Chris (Unrein?), a solo runner who'd also been chilled at Big Water and with whom we'd play leap frog throughout the night. He was running with just a AA Maglite, but seemed OK and told me that he'd run Wasatch before, but dropped at mile 88. I didn't think to ask why. Soon thereafter we crested a small rise and came upon a heart-warming sight: a campfire! It was now 12:57am and we'd reached Desolation Lake (mile 65.1). I wish I could see that area in daylight, because it seemed like a great place to camp, fish and hike for a few days. We warmed ourselves by the fire, drank soup, and then reluctantly pushed on. As we left, I managed to change to my second set of C batteries (they'd lasted from 9-1), while Joan's lithium Ds were still strong. As we climbed to the main Wasatch Range ridge (9900'), we could look back down and see the campfire, a string of flashlights (like the scene in Butch Cassidy) and see the lights of Salt Lake City to the West and Park City to the east. I felt like I was on the top of the world. Stopping every few climbing minutes for an O2 break and every 30 minutes for a "P" break, we continued to move along. It wasn't too cold, or windy, and soon we left the single track trail and hit a jeep road. One more ridge and there was Scott's Peak (mile 69.3) at 2:45am. Another friendly group of volunteers stuck in the middle of nowhere in the middle of a cold night. They were great! We left in a few minutes and soon were jogging down a rutted dirt road, around a metal gate and quickly reached the paved road. About two miles of this brought us into "downtown" Brighton and then another uphill to the Brighton Lodge (mile 73.7) at 4:14am. For the first time we were able to be indoors and avail ourselves of real plumbing! We saw lots of bodies curled in sleeping bags and it was a temptation to stay inside where it was warm and we could get driven back, but Joan ate what she could (nausea had set in) and we checked out at 4:41, popping back inside to ask "which way do we go?". We had planned on leaving our lights and most of our warm clothing there, but that was when we thought we'd be on a 36 hour pace (e.g. 7:30). It was a good thing we kept the extra clothes, because it was real cold climbing toward the summit. Joan was leading (as always, to set the pace), when she suddenly stopped, yelled and backed up. I looked past her and saw what I thought was a badger (I was thinking too hard about that 36 hour buckle, I guess). Joan later told me that she thought it was a bear cub and she half hoped that she'd be attacked by the mother bear so she'd have an acceptable reason to drop out. It turned out to be a porcupine, which eventually went into the bushes and let us pass. I led us to the summit and several times Joan was convinced we were off the trail, despite the fact that I was standing over the ribbons and shining my light on them. Her stops became more frequent and her coughing sounds worse and I was really wondering if she'd make it to the top of Catherine's Pass (10480'). We finally made it and at last had a downhill section to run, even if it was steep and rocky. We switched off our lights around 6:30, loosened our jackets and soon reached the Ant Knolls (mile 78.5) at 7:04am. After a cup of coffee (no sugar, bummer!) we went up another hilly section through aspens, enjoying the sunrise that allowed us to see scenery for the first time in over ten hours and feeling the revival that always comes (briefly) when the night running ends. We finally were caught by a friend, Robert Solario, that we'd been waiting to see for hours. He was having bad blister problems, but played leap frog with us for the rest of the race, since he was on a different peeing schedule. We saw a few trailers and sheepherders, then came down a hill and reached Pole Line Pass (mile 82.0) at 8:31am, just in time for fried potatoes, eggs and link sausage. I had the latter, along with a PBJ, and it tasted great. My stomach had been growling, but the food did the trick. We changed into shorts and T-shirts again and left the burden of flashlights, batteries and heavy clothes in our drop bags and left around 8:49. It was great to be running "light" again, but Joan got chilled in the shadows and donned her Tyvek jacket. I'd been warned that this "6 mile" section would take forever and it did: 121 minutes! Part of it was the climb to the last real pass on the course (Sandy Baker?), part was the frequent stops, and maybe we were just tired and slow, but when Joan reached the downhill section, she took off like a scared rabbit and I had trouble staying with her. We passed several people going downhill and I was sure she'd trip and fall, but although she dislodged part of the mountain, she managed to stay out of the dirt. We reached the bottom and ran into Mill Canyon (mile 87.8) at 10:50am. She told me we weren't going to make the cutoffs and that's why she was pushing so hard, but I told her we were almost 3 hours ahead of the 36 hour pace and had six hours to cover less than 13 miles, so she slowed down a little when we took off on the next stretch. We had pretty much left the mountain country and now were on a stretch that she called The Maze, which consisted of a path through thigh-high weeds, marked only by ribbons. There wasn't even a deer trail, just a place where the weeds had been beaten down by the runners. Then we weaved left and right through the bushes, always going down toward the river. As we reached a stream, Joan was convinced that we were on the wrong course and we should be going left up a road. She even asked a lady coming up the trail if we were on the race course. I finally convinced her to follow the red and yellow ribbons. In another mile or so, we reached the real stream, waded through the ankle-deep cool water and then we turned left up the road. It was hot by then, the road was dusty, and once again they managed to put the aid station at the top of a hill. We staggered into Cascade Springs (mile 92.7) at 12:26pm, drank Coke, ate a melted chocolate bar, filled the bottles one last time and headed out. We knew we were heading for a section called "The Wall", but Robert had said that it was only a 500' climb. Well, when Joan went up the road, around several turns, and saw a long sunny stretch of hot dusty road, capped by yet another hill, she stopped, almost cried and said "now I know why people drop at mile 88". I could only tell her to rest and take it one section at a time. We did reach the top of the last hill and then jogged and walked down the dirt/gravel road, weaving in one canyon and out the other, wondering when it would end. Cars, jeeps and motorcycles kept going by in clouds of dust and Joan had to be told not to let them hit her (I think she was looking for any way to get a ride). We were going so slow that a car with a flat tire passed us, until they finally figured out what was causing that noise and stopped. At last we reached "civilization": a paved road again. We turned left and started the old "let's run to the next telephone pole" trick. A mile north, jog to the right, run a bit, left at the corner, run a bit more, turn right, etc. (I felt like I was a tourist as I read from my race booklet). We made it to Main Street, saw the church and turned the corner to run across the finish line to the cheers of the crowd! 74th finisher, 17th woman and only 33:38:57! The rest was near-perfect. We washed up, drank sodas, had a massage, lay on the grass and watched and cheered the next 18 finishers arrive in the remaining 2+ hours. We'd even beat Laura Vaughn ('95 winner), although she was stopping at every aid station to nurse her 8-week baby! They had a great banquet around 5pm, then a real nice awards ceremony (King Jordan got his Grand Slam trophy), and then we grabbed our drop bags and took a shuttle to Lambs Canyon, where we rescued our rental car and I drove us to the Super 8. We unpacked our drop bags, rinsed the water bottles and dropped into bed by 9, after being up for 40 hours! I took Rick to the airport for an early flight, then Joan, Kathy and I took a brief Jacuzzi plunge (wish we'd done it the night before), I took the ladies to the airport for their flight (where they met another WF runner limping along curbside), then I turned in the rental car, caught my flight, retrieved my car and drove straight to the trail, because I had that uncontrollable urge to run trails. Several people asked me "what did you think" and "so, when are you going to enter". My answers were "it's a beautiful bitch" and "I'm going to tear up my application and wait until I'm better prepared". I've managed to finish Angeles Crest and Western States on less training than I should have had, but even the last 49 miles of Wasatch wore me out and I am deeply impressed by anyone who finishes it. I think Joan Risse is an amazing runner and I'm very happy that she let me be a part of her success. The Wasatch Front is an extremely well organized event and, if you're prepared, will be an adventure you'll always cherish. I recommend it and will be back as crew, pacer and (someday) runner. Stan "looking forward to an easy pacing task at Angeles Crest" Jensen P.S. I'd like to extend my special thanks to all of the people who helped me (and thus Joan) finish Wasatch: - Gary Wang for "The Art of Pacing" - Bruce Hoff, Deborah Askew, Ed Furtaw, Gordan Hardman, Janis O'Grady, Jeff Hinte, Jim Wholey, Jon Webber, King Jordan, Larry Gassan, and Red Fisher for sharing their experiences and knowledge with us ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Stan Jensen, Systems Engineer for "SGI Direct" stanj@sgi.com Silicon Graphics Inc., M/S 120 Phone:(415)933-5822 P.O. Box 7311, 1401 No. Shoreline Blvd. FAX: (415)962-1589 Mt. View, CA 94039-7311 "I (heart) Tonks" "http://www.sgi.com" "http://reality.sgi.com/stanj" ------------------------------------------------------------------------