15JUL09 We just returned from our 11 day adventure to Colorado two days ago. Some of the highlights are as follows. Friday, the 2^nd of July, Trish and I drove through Safford and into the northeastern part of Arizona and camped overnight at Spider Rock Campground on the south rim of Canyon De Chelly. Uncannily, we ran into friends from Tucson, Doug and Jen camping in the site next to us. They were on a one week odyssey themselves which included a Durango to Silverton train ride the following week while we were in town and able to meet them again. Odd how these things happen when we live near each other everyday and then discover these similarities in ideas and planning. The next morning on Saturday, Trish and I jogged along a rim trail for 40 minutes. We took several pictures of cliffs and overhangs at sunrise. Later that morning on our way out of the area we stopped and hiked the White House ruins trail into the canyon. This trail is 3 miles round trip and travels to the bottom of Canyon De Chelly next to the White House Ruins left by Anasazi Indians.

Bob Bachani at 2009 Hardrock 100

Keep reading for the rest of Chase and Trish’s Hardrock Trip and check out his photos on Picasa

We continued our travels by heading northeast to Durango for the 4^th of July. Trish had reserved lodging for us at a condominium called “Nobody’s Inn.” This was a cozy room on Main Street. That evening we met up with a long time friend of ours, Barb Gossage and her mother. They live in Colorado Springs and drove down to visit us. There was a 4^th of July parade on Main Street at 6pm and then we went for dinner at the Steamworks Brewery. Durango held an awesome fireworks display which lasted for more than half an hour. The next morning we rode our mountain bikes around the town and the Animas (Soul) River bike path and eventually finished with breakfast and mimosas at a local café.

On our way out of Durango we shopped for groceries at the City Market and picked up some wine and microbrews for our camping trip near Silverton. Silverton is only 50 miles to the north of Durango and sits at 9318 feet elevation. I made campground reservations for us at Molas Lake where we stayed for three nights. The Lake Molas Campground is advertised to be the highest elevation campground in the continental U.S. at 10,100 feet. The morning of the 6^th we drove by Silverton and turned off onto Mineral Creek Road to the Ice Lake Trail. The round trip distance is 9 miles if you continue past Ice Lake to Fuller Lake and the top-out elevation is 12,500. This hike took four hours and was a good elevation acclimatization break-in. There were many water crossings and waterfalls on and near the trail. The wildflowers were in full bloom the entire way. We encountered sporadic cloudbursts and occasional threatening storms but never got soaked. Up high on the mountain there were several patches of unmelted snow and Fuller Lake was still mostly covered with ice. On all of our hikes we took camelbaks and energy bars.

The next day I found a trail a couple miles north of Silverton called Hematite Basin Trail. This trail is only 2.5 miles to top-out but reaches 12,600 feet from a 10,000 foot start point. Needless to say, it goes practically straight up. I’m not sure if this trail was named for the mineral or what you needed more of in your veins to accomplish the climb. The trail is not used very much and has a lot of difficult footing. After a 2 mile climb we topped over into the basin where there is a turquoise colored lake. The trail continues on about another mile over mining tailings and stretches of flower covered fields. We never found a good trail to Tower Mountain at 13,100 feet so we settled at a rock outcropping and ate an energy bar before turning around. Once we got back to the car we found a secluded stretch on the Animas River and soaked our legs while enjoying an IPA and Boulder Malt Vinegar potato chips.

The main reason that Trish and I went on this trip was ultimately to pace Bob Bachani at the Hardrock 100 mile race. The course starts and ends in Silverton and winds its way up and around 13 passes and peaks and through old mining sites and towns such as Ouray and Telluride. There is an approximate 33,000 plus elevation gain and equal descent on this course with a 48 hour cut-off. Bob has finished this race in 2006 running in the clockwise direction. He also dropped out in 2005 due to metabolic acidosis. This year the race is run in the counterclockwise direction. He invited us and Geno and Emily Foushee to crew for him and we thought it was a great idea. Both Trish and I had a portion of the race that would go over 13,100 feet so we thought it would be smart to top that elevation earlier in the week to see what it was like. After a day of rest we went out on Thursday, the day before the race started, and hiked a portion of the course starting at Grouse Gulch and topping out at Handies Peak, 14,048 feet. The trail is 12 miles round trip and traverses through American Basin. We got very lucky with the weather as it clouded up early and misted the skies but broke into sunshine by the time we reached the peak. This is the highest point I have ever been to. The views are stunning. It is literally like being on top of the world. Trish built her confidence level up on this trail in preparation for her pacing duties. We had our first marmot sighting on the way back to the trailhead. These animals normally run off but one of them seemed to be protecting an area and was reluctant to move very far. He laid on a rock by the trail as I went by. I noticed his sharp teeth and told Trish that we should continue to run along and make sure he did not follow us. Bob had several unfortunate encounters with marmots earlier in the week as one chewed through his pack and ate a portion of his water bladder tube. After a few misdirected shots from his .22 pistol the marmot ran away to haunt Bob another day. He lent us several bags of mothballs which we used to hang in the engine compartment and near the brake lines of the truck while it was parked at the trailhead. If there were any marmots in the area of the truck they did not bother our vehicle. Anyway, our Handies Peak hike took just under 5 hours and we felt ready for Hardrock.

We saw Bob off on his Hardrock Wild and Tough adventure at 6am Friday. We aided Bob at mile 9 and wouldn’t see him again until 8pm. The rest of the morning was spent getting a nail repair done on one of truck tires and then trying to get some rest that afternoon. Maryalice, Emily, Geno, Trish and I went over to Handlebars for dinner to get some last minute carbs in for that evening’s work. Maryalice took Geno out to Grouse Gulch at mile 42 to pick up with Bob for the next 14 miles. Bob and Geno would come into Ouray about 1:15 in the morning. Meanwhile, Trish and I got about 2 hours of sleep and got up at 11:15pm and headed out with Maryalice and Emily to Ouray. My pace leg of the run was from 56.6 miles over Virginius Mine Pass and into Telluride mile 73.3.

Bob and I got going at 1:30 in the morning. The skies were clear with a three-quarter moon and another planet shining nearby the entire night. The route out of Ouray climbs gradually for 5 or 6 miles and then climbs steeply on a dirt jeep road for another 2 miles to Governor Basin aid station. I had some coffee here while Bob had some soup and we filled our waters and continued another 3.2 miles to 13,100 Virginius Pass. After filling Bob’s water bladder for some reason he would repeatedly ask me if I sucked the air out of his hydration tube…strange, but no, I can’t say I relished that idea. The report was that there was ice and snow at Virginius and many people were using Yak-trax or crampons. We took a short break for foot maintenance after wading through an icy creek about 4:30am. I noticed that Venus was rising bright in the eastern sky ahead of the sun. Civil twilight happened around 5am and it was near 6am when we approached the first of three steep icy climbs. Several of the runners had become bunched up in this area due to the slow and go up the snow covered ascents. It wasn’t really ice but more like a frozen slushy that you can get your foot into just enough not to slide backward. I could see the last climb from the top of the first one and it looked to go straight up. When we got there it proved to be snow and ice covered and about 150 feet top to bottom at about a 65 degree angle. Fortunately there was a climbing rope dangling from the top. I had hiking pants on which are nice and slippery in these conditions and a windbreaker. I had my gloves in my pants pocket but thought they were in the camelbak so I didn’t bother to grab them. Bob donned his Yak-trax and up we went. About halfway up I looked down at Bob while he asked me to take his picture when I got to the top. As I got within 25 feet of the top I looked down again and realized that if I slipped it would be a hell of a ride to the bottom. I kept climbing and stepped onto the pass where there was an aid station that had been backpacked in overnight. The volunteers at the aid station looked cold. I snapped off a photo of Bob and helped him over. The other side was not as steep and did not have snow but was covered with loose rocks. We had 5 miles downhill to go to Telluride.

Earlier in the week many stories were told by Bob about marmots and how cuddly they looked and how they liked to get close to your stuff. It sounded like a love – hate relationship; he hated when they were around but loved looking for them. The day of the race I found a stuffed toy marmot in town for $10 and strapped it to the back of my camelbak. It was actually a marmot purse with two small straps attached to its back and a zipper pouch where I stored three GU packets. When I ran with Bob at 1:30 in the morning I had a light jacket on and covering the camelbak. It stayed cool enough to keep the jacket on until daylight. As we descended to Telluride it began to warm up so I stopped and took off my hiking pants. Bob mentioned something about needing more motivation so while trailing behind I slipped off my jacket and ran by him screaming “Bob!!! Marmot!!! Get him off!!! Bob was so surprised he didn’t even look at me but began whirling around and searching by the rocks off the trail until he looked at me laughing my ass off with a marmot on my back. Now that Bob had his motivation back, we continued on down to Telluride and came in at 8am to mile 73.3.

Bob needed foot maintenance here due to a blister on the ball of his left foot so he spent a little downtime here while Linda Van Tilborg duct taped his feet. Linda appeared to be running this aid station and doing a good job of it. The next 9 mile leg to Chapman aid station was paced by Trish. We only have one 100 ounce camelbak so she shared mine when I was finished. I removed the marmot, but putting someone else’s sweaty camelbak on doesn’t give you a warm fuzzy. She was quite apprehensive about portions of the trail but due to our prep earlier in the week and Bob’s fatigued state now, she felt better that she could stay with him and she did.

I can’t vouch for Trish’s experience the next 4 hours so I’ll move over to Chapman aid station. I drove ‘Bubba’ with Maryalice and Molly over to Chapman mile 82 through Ophir Pass. Here we awaited Geno and Emily to come over the rocky four-wheel drive road in their Subaru. After some reflection from an earlier drive over this road Maryalice was not confident that they would get here in time. There was absolutely no cell phone signal so I trekked up to the top of the pass to try and find service. After two miles I gave up near top-out when a pick-up truck came by and the guy asked if I needed a ride. I told him I was fine and was stopping here to wait for the Subaru to come down. If they didn’t show in about 15 minutes I would head back down the hill and pace Bob to Kamm Traverse, only 7 more miles. The guy in the pick-up truck said he could see a red Subaru coming down the hill above us. Geno and Emily own a blue Subaru but I figured whoever was in it I would ask for a ride down. As the Subaru came around the corner I noticed two Dachsunds with their heads out the window and a full load of people, two of which were Geno and Emily in the backseat. I squeezed in the back and we bounced down to the aid station. It turned out that Geno and Emily were at the top of the pass from the other side and was suggested by passerby’s that they park their car and get in with them since they were going that way anyway. How uncanny all this turned out. At least I didn’t have to run any further.

Bob and Trish came in right at 4 hours and Bob took off with Geno at 1:00pm and everything worked out fine. That was the last we would see of Bob until 9:09pm at the finish line. Now came the last test of my strength and endurance; the drive back over the previous mentioned 4-wheel drive shaly, narrow road back to Silverton. The other option to taking this route is a roundabout 2 hour tour back through Telluride and Ouray. Not for us though; we gripped our seats and the steering wheel and trudged over rock and shale at less than 5 mph in ‘Bubba’ and made it back with minimal oncoming traffic. There was a report of Duane Arter in the area but luckily we had no encounters with him and the Suburban on this leg of our journey.

Emily seemed to be the only one that could take a nap back at the condo. Trish and I showered up and caroused around town while Maryalice kept track of runner’s progress whenever she could pick up a signal on the laptop. As 8pm rolled around we all headed over to the finish area and waited for the occasional finisher to come across the finish and smooch the Hardrock. Based on web reports we had an idea Bob should finish before 9:30 and actually break 40 hours, which quietly seemed to be his ideal goal. Around 9:05pm we spotted headlamps coming down the trail in twos and threes. It turned out to be Geno and Bob with Jimmy and Roger Wrublik in tow. This would be Roger’s 5^th and fastest finish and this year without a pacer. On a sidenote, Trish and I ran into Roger early in the week at his hotel, The Wyman, and discovered that he was practicing sleep deprivation by staying up all night working the hotel and then pounding stake holes in the street for finish line flags during the day. He also sleeps in a high altitude tent at 16,500 feet. I don’t’ think he really trains on the course at all. I don’t know where he manufactures this kind of endurance. Anyway, the gang came around into the finish line, Bob and Roger holding hands, to an ecstatic audience. Immediately after I heard spectator comments such as, “That’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen.” Soon, after many congratulations and rock licking, Bob moved into the gym and sat on the bleachers looking oddly blissful but purely exhausted and maybe not quite altogether in the head.

That was it for Trish and me that night. I had been up since 11:15pm the night before and quickly tired after the excitement ended. We went to bed and in the morning decided that if we hit the road by 10am we could get to Flagstaff and spend the night without trying to drive the whole 12 hours in one day. We missed the awards ceremony the morning after the race but said our goodbyes and that was the end of one of our greatest adventures maybe to be outdone by my own attempt at the Wild and Tough Hardrock in the near future.

This post was provided by Jerry R:

A wise man told me that if redemption could be found for only $225 , I should grab it. After a failed attempt at Leadville, this seemed to be good advice. So I wrote the check and sent it off to the Rio del Lag 100 miler held Sept 27/28  held outside of Auburn CA.
It is a small race with mainly local runners. The RD Norm Klein ( and wife Helen) are legends in their own right, so this should be well staged. And with an elevation gain/loss of  only 9,000 feet up and 9,000 feet down, this should be an easy 100.
I would meet my friend and local Ultrarunner Billy Still and his wife Ann at the hotel outside race headquarters. Bill was running and Ann and my wife Cathy would crew for us both. Neither of us had a pacer. After all, this would be an easy 100.

The morning of the race we arrived at the start and proceeded to walk up a hill to the official start. ( The course had been slightly rerouted due to some construction and was now the RDL 101.8). At 6:00 we started out.
My plan was to run strong for 50 miles and then see what  happened. The daily temps had been increasing from low 80’s to a predicted 90 on race day. No problem for some Tucson natives.
My first meeting with Cathy and Ann would be at Auburn Dam overlook at 23 miles.
I figured 4 hours would be enough. After climbing Cardiac hill ( good name) I pulled in at 3:50 feeling fresh and strong.  The trail now dropped and climbed to Robie point and back down to No hands bridge. We were now on the WS100 course in reverse. Instead of the gentle uphill to Cool, the course diverted a trail labeled ‘Steep Training Trail’ and called K2 ( another appropriate name.). By the time I started this climb, the day was warming up and I was feeling it. Topping out the trail gently dropped out to a lollipop loop from the Cool aid station. Any shade was now gone and the sun was beating down.
I walked and ran the 7 mile loop ( mostly walked) in the blazing sun. By the time I got back to Cool , I was  done. My head was pounding and I was starting to feel cold. At the aid station I  weighed in 8 pounds low and was told to sit a while ( I’m only 150 lbs soaking wet). I drank and refused the doctor and the offered ride back to the start.
After about ½ hour ( maybe longer) I decided to head out. This was only 37 miles.
The official temp was 98.
I met Cathy and Ann shortly at No Hands and sucked down a cold Frappacino.
They said I looked terrible. They were probably right.
After a long slow climb back to Auburn Overlook ( 44 miles ) I was feeling pretty bad again. I decided to wait and eat and drink ( still down 8 lbs) and decide if this was
worth it to continue on. . A friend of mile pulled in looking wasted by the heat and was contemplating dropping. We decided to leave together , along with another suffering soul. The plan was to get healthy when the day cooled off.
When we got back to Cardiac Hill I decided to try my legs. I started out and felt pretty good. So I kept going for another 7 miles or so. It was getting dark about now.but I was on a dirt road and it was no problem following. I climbed and climbed a long hill that seemed unfamiliar from the morning out. But there was a pink flag so I must be OK.
When the road dead ended at a locked gate, I know I had been exploring. I better go back down to find the trail. At the ribbon I turned left up another long steep hill . Another dead end. So I headed back again. Then I saw a flicker of a headlamp off the road and into the woods. Backtracking I found the cutoff I missed and was off again.
I met Cathy and Ann at  Rattlesnake Bar ( 55 miles). They were worried as my friends had come by long ago .They guessd I was lost . A quick drink and I was off again. Next stop was Cavitt school
( 68 miles) and the start of the second loop of the course. This stretch was rocky, hilly, and mainly uphill. I was feeling bad again and wondering why I should do this and promising myself never, ever to do another 100 mile race again.
I struggled into the school and collapsed into a chair. I was finished.
Sitting with Cathy and Ann were my two friends eating In-Out Burgers and fully dressed.
They had given up somewhere around 57 miles.
Just to prod me along they said I was the last man standing and they were counting on me to finish. I was also threatened with a speech ny Norm Klein , famous for his ability to ‘ motivate’.
Of course, I didn’t care. I just wanted to sleep. So I closed my eyes for a fer minutes. That turned out to be closer to an hour. When I regained consciousness I had to decide.
A warm bed in the hotel or a 32 mile hike in the dark . After checking my time ( I had 11 hours left ) I decided to go hiking.
The remaining trail was a mix of road, bike path , and single track 16 miles out and back.
I put on my IPOD and tried to follew some locals whe knew the course. I could not afford to get lost again. The trip to the turnaround was hilly but uneventful. I even started joggin the down hills.
At the turnaround I caugt up to a runner and his pacer who insisted I join them on the way back. They felt bad I was running solo.
We had some good conversation ( this was the runner’s first 100). It was then we noticed
we might not make the cutoff for the next aid. As we turned a corner on the road we saw the aid station a few hundred yards away. We had 2 minutes. Somehow we all took off and sprinted into the station with 30 seconds to spare. They told us they would not cut anyone who came in the next 15 minutes or so anyway. That was for the big races.
Here I was facing cutoffs. I had never had to do this before and I didn’t like it one bit. I now had  1 ½ hours to get to the next aid 5 miles away( mile 90). Under any other circumstances, this would be easy. This night I was worried.
( RDL has a rule I wish other races would adopt. If you reach mile 90 before the cutoff,
you can finish after 30 hours and still be counted as an official finisher. Good Karma.)
As we headed out I decided that this cutoff thing was not going to work for me. So I said goodbye to my friends and started jogging. Then running. I was feeling OK again. Go figure.
As I pulled into the 90 mile aid ( ½ hour ahead of the cutoff) I was greeted by Billy Still.
He was timed out the day before ( through no fault of his own- another story). After a good night sleep, he wanted to pace me the remaining 10 miles. I was quite happy to see him and welcomed the company.
We jogged and ran  through the remaining 2 aid stations. Somehow on the last leg we missed a turn and climbed another extra hill. After some good directions from a local cyclist we backtracked and found the trail again and headed for the final stretch.
As any runner will tell, crossing the finish line and sitting down ( this time for as long as I wanted) never felt so good. Final time -29:11. My personal worst. Weight was down 10 lbs.
Epilogue: Even though this was more of a death march than a run, this was possibly my most satisfying finish. I felt really bad several times, got lost twice, and for some reason went on.
I suppose this is the point. Overcome adversity  and ignore your inner demons.
I had to remind myself that I was not injured and had not been pulled from the course, so keep moving. I swore that I would never put myself through this again , and meant it.
And I won’t , until I find another easy 100.

An Essay by gj

My morning started at about 3:45 am the morning of the run. A couple of hours later I was at the start nervously waiting to run 50 miles. Minutes before the run at about 5:55 am, Julie and Duane were presented with a memento for their efforts in putting on the most recent 8 of these Old Pueblo 50 mile runs. Theirs has been one of the best organized ultras in the nation. The course is well marked with 350 lbs. of flour and enough flagging tape to go to the moon and back. This tape is taken off of the course minutes behind the last runner, by Julie and her sweep crew. (In the months between the runs while Duane is out hiking in the mountain snow all Saturday night, Julie actually un-knots this tape and rolls it tightly back on the cardboard spools, making it ready for the next year.) In the past, we relied on the horse people to flag the course. This was always interesting because the front riders would often pull the flags to slow down their competition. But this of course would also send runners off in all directions. One year the run director, who was running (in those days 25 runners would be the norm, so the RD would join in to inflate the numbers), had to tear up his bandana to help mark the course for the runners who followed. Back then, if you were nice, the horse people would let you dip your head in the water troughs. Duane and Julie’s spread was incredible! They actually brought water in from melting glaciers in New Zealand.
So, at exactly 6:00 am, a gunshot was heard and all the runners ran away. The group was pretty tight at first, spreading out on the first hill about 30 yards into the run. This Ultra had begun! Sometime after the start, the pain began. I had been dreading this since my last run. But there was no way that I was going to stop so I kept running. After what seemed like many miles more, the pain was worse. Nothing I did would stop it. I ran leaning to one side, then the other, then I tried Chi Running, bending forward at the ankles, lifting my feet just enough to clear the rocks. It got worse. It was nearing unbearable. “How much farther to go?” I was desperate and then I thought of something Mr. Bachani had said. He said “Make pain your friend. It will make you stronger”. I had no clue what this meant, so I ran on. It hurt! I kept trying to figure out what he meant. “Make pain your friend?!” It got worse! It was unbearable! “Make pain your friend!? Make pain your friend!?” It hurts!! ….”OK! I’ll make this #@*%!*^ pain my friend!” How? Where? There he is… that big ugly guy over there. Kinda hunched over with green stuff coming out of his nose…I’ll just stick out my hand…O my gosh..he sees me! I can’t do it, so I slammed the door shut. It hurts worse now…I’ll just look out there…Oh NO! He’s gotten bigger and he has a tattoo of the Nike swoosh with blood dripping out of it on his forehead and he’s trying to beat down my door! Now he has a ramrod the size of a telephone pole…He’s going to break it down!! I hurt!! I’ll just sneak a peak out the peephole… Holy Cow! He’s transformed into an eighteen, no a twenty two wheeler revving up, belching green smoke, and with steel spikes on oversized tires aiming right at me!! I can’t hold out much longer! “Mr. Bachani what do I do??!! What do I do!??!” In desperation, I flung open the door and stood there with my arms outspread… ….Unbelievable!…Unbelievable! Rather than being creamed by a huge ugly monster, right at the threshold of my door, all of this big, ugly pain turned into a flock of butterflies! Hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of them. Big ones.., little ones.. in all colors of the rainbow. They fluttered around me, caressing me lightly with their soft fragile wings, virtually lifting me off the ground. It was a surreal experience, to be sure. Tactile, visual and very faintly aural. I heard the refrain from ‘Somewhere Over the Rainbow’ , “If happy little bluebirds fly Beyond the Rainbow, why O why can’t I?” “Well” I thought. “This is something new.” Cool! The pain was gone. I opened up another chocolate goo and ran on. The remaining 48.5 miles or so was the normal ultra stuff..lots of ups and downs, rocks, sore legs, some blisters and funny little people at the aid stations tending to my every need. I raced against the sun and once more I had won!

gj

Disclaimer: Some of the above is true.

Footnote: In the middle of the 1800’s two pieces of the same meteorite were dragged out of the Santa Rita mountains and were used as anvils, one inside the walls of the Tucson Presidio and one just outside the walls. The smaller of the two, ultimately named the Carleton fragment, weighed 633 lbs. while the larger, the Ring fragment of the Tucson meteorite fall, weighed in at 1400 lbs. (Nickel-iron meteorite is heavy stuff at 450 lbs. per cubic foot.) Some years later, both were taken to the Smithsonian for study and exhibition. Along the way, a 30 lb.chunk of the Ring fragment was removed.
The connection to us is the location where the fragments were found. It was near the head of a canyon named ‘puerto de los Muchachos’ in the sierra called ‘de la Madera’. We know the mountains as the Santa Ritas and the canyon as Box Canyon. For the past eight years, Old Pueblo 50 Mile Run has run up that canyon, to the dismay of many unprepared runners. Of course, if you ran the OP 50, you would know all of this, since there is a drawing of the Ring fragment on the back of the run T-shirt, and Duane included a book entitled ‘The Tucson Meteorites’ in the run packet of every runner. What you probably don’t know is that in addition to the great belt buckle that I received at the finish, the Run Directors, Duane and Julie, gave me a piece of the Ring fragment of the Tucson Meteorite in recognition of finishing my 15^th Old Pueblo!