Pocatello 50

A few days have passed and I'm still reliving Saturday's beautiful run. There couldn't have possibly been a better day for a run and combined with some of the most scenic and enjoyable trails I've been on, it all added up to one thing: perfect.

I left Victor Friday night and stayed at my buddy Mike's place in Blackfoot, ID about 20 miles north of Pocatello. He would be running the 50 miler as well and this way, I would only have about a 40 minute drive in the morning to get to the start from his place instead of a 2hr, 15 min drive from my place in Victor. We got up around 4:15am, ate some oatmeal with blueberries, left the house at 4:45 and arrived at the start at the Mink Creek Group Camp Area at 5:30, a half hour before the start. A quick race prep and drop bags dropped off in what I thought was the appropriate areas (my first drop bag would not make it to me at the first aid station and I guess I should have taken more care in making sure I set it in the right spot before the start of the race, but a race volunteer told me where to put them and that's what I did, but I seemed to understand what she was saying backwards and instead of drop bags arranged in piles for Aid Stations 1-2-3, they were arranged in piles for Aid Stations 3-2-1) and right on time at 6:00am, we were off and running.

The first mile we headed down canyon on the paved Mink Creek Canyon Rd before veering left (north) up a singletrack climb that took about 20 minutes. The early morning temperature was perfect. Maybe 50 degrees? And the sun was rising, but struggling to penetrate the thin layer of clouds spread out to the east. At the top of the ridge, we began traversing an east-facing slope through open hillsides of sage and scrubby vegetation, rolling along over the contours of the wavy terrain and dropping frequently into groves of aspens and other small alpine trees with the early morning sunlight filtering through before popping back out into the open again. We were running the Gibson Jack Trail and I must say, it was one of the most pleasurable trail experiences I've ever had. And I had Mark to keep me company.

Mark and I introduced ourselves on the first climb 2-3 miles into the race and proceeded to run together all the way to the first aid station at mile 8. Talking the entire way. Mark was a storyteller and an entertaining one at that. He had a think southern accent which only made the stories that much more entertaining. Thanks Mark, for passing the time! It was a pleasure to be out there sharing the morning trail with you.

We cruised into the 8 mile aid station around 1:20, I think, and I refilled on water and was quickly off up the trail a nice, runnable uphill stretch. Mark took off up ahead, but Chris from Jackson soon caught up to me and suddenly I had another pal to chat with. Chris and I caught up on things a bit. I had seen him at the Moab Red Hot 50k back in February and then the Buffalo Run in SLC in March and I hadn't seen him since so we talked about our spring adventures and then, there it was: The brute of a climb completely off trail up a steep, rocky, vegetated southern slope for 1,000+ ft. It felt good to give me legs a break from the almost non-stop running shuffle I had been applying for the first 10 miles, but hot diggity this thing was steep! And rough! But fun and adventurous!

Chris and I had passed Mark on the way up and when we reached the top, he quickly zoomed away down the double-track descent. I had no hurry to beat up my legs this early on in the race. Mark caught back up to me and passed me just before coming into the first major aid station at the City Creek TH at mile 15.6 which I arrived at after 2 hrs, 56 minutes. My drop bag hadn't made it there and I briefly pictured it sitting at the other aid station wondering where it was and why I had sent it off in another direction other than what I had planned. I remember it seemed sad to me. Back to reality, I filled up with water, drank a yummy cup of Nuun, grabbed 5 Hammer Gels from the aid station table and headed back out onto the next stretch.

This stretch began up a gentle gravel road for a mile or so before turning into the trees and switching onto the City Creek trail which, as its namesake suggests, follows right next to City Creek. And I mean RIGHT next to it. There were places where there was the trail two feet wide and the next foot over was creek. And it was b-e-a-u-t-i-f-u-l! If the first stretch along the Gibson Jack Trail was near perfect, then maybe this stretch WAS perfect. If only I had more pep. Chris was somewhere ahead of me. So was Mark. Krissy had passed me along this stretch. This would turn out to be one of my low spots of the day. Not horrible. Just dragging a bit. I realized I hadn't peed in a while. Uh-oh. Drink drink drink. Keep drinking. Don't get into a deficit. Drink til you pee. The climb began to get steep. Then steeper. Then we began to hit patchy snow. And then, the trail ended and we were face to face with a narrow, 45 degree, rocky, muddy chute filled with giant patches of melting snow with creeklike runoff pouring down it. Que es esto?!?! This is a true adventure! This is gnarly! I like it!

I soon spotted Mark up above me in the chute and caught up to him and passed him. He was breathing awfully hard and said the altitude was getting to him. Up on the ridge, we were at roughly 7,000ft. At the top of the ridge, I spotted Chris and Krissy. Good, they weren't too far ahead. A couple minutes maybe. Get to the top, then cruise up and latch onto them on the long downhill stretch back to Mink Creek. The downhill was fun. Rolling doubletrack. I focused on having both my bottles finished off by the time I hit the aid station at mile 25. I timed it perfectly and Chris was there as I shwooshed in, filled my bottles, nabbed 3 orange slices and took off again. He left with me, but said he had puked at the top of the last climb and wasn't feeling too chipper. Yikes. I told him I had just experienced that a month ago at Zane Grey, but was able to bounce back and finish feeling good. I told him to keep drinking and keep going and he'll get to feeling better again and we separated again. I caught up to another guy who said he wasn't feeling to good either. Yuk. I hate that feeling. My goal was to finish off my two bottles by the time I reached the next aid station. By my calculations, it would take me about an hour.

The next 6 miles were more blissful trail winding gently downhill through the trees back into Mink Creek. I hit the Mink Creek aid station at mile 33 in exactly 6 hours with two empty bottles. I refilled the bottles with water, grabbed my drop bag which I was REALLY glad to see, slotted my next group of gels into my pockets, easily downed a 20 oz Gatorade (which I was extremely watchful of as it entered my stomach. I didn't want a repeat of that full-belly feeling like I had a t Zane Grey and the full scale vomiting that ensued), rubbed off my face, arms, and legs with a wet towel (which felt SO refreshing, let me tell you!), lathered on some sunscreen, and I was off again. Still feeling good. It was getting hot now and I knew this next stretch was completely without shade.

I had ran this next loop a week before the race and I'm glad I did. The lower part was very runnable if one had conserved energy. The upper part would be steeper, muddier, and then turn to snowpack so I didn't expect hardly anyone to be running that part. My plan was to maintain pace and run the first 25 minutes up the dirt road until it got steep and would become unrunnable to just about everyone. I wanted to catch someone. Maybe I could make up a little time by running this lower stretch while some of the others walked. The hunt was on.

I got passed by 3 or 4 relay runners on the early part of that climb, but I was still running and felt exactly how I wanted to feel. Tired, but not exhausted. The climb went up. And up. And up. And then finally I reached the next aid station below the western slopes of Scout Mountain where I would be headed next. I wasn't feeling to hot at this point and I'm really not sure why. I'd been drinking a ton. Around 40oz per hour. But now I just didn't feel up to running. My legs were beginning to slow. 'Sigh.......' I took a nature break, tried to regroup, and forced myself to keep running for as long as possible until I reached the unrunnable snow and then I could walk as much as I wanted because I knew pretty much everyone would be doing the same.

The route up to the summit of Scout Mountain was a circuitous one as we continued our gradual climb heading south far below its summit to the east before wrapping around its southern flank to reach a saddle between Scout and its neighboring peak further to the south. We then curved north up a gravel road half covered in snow looking north along Scout's eastern slopes. Before getting too far north, we curved west again, crossed back over to Scout's west side, and began up a series of short switchbacks before finally setting off north again along the western slope towards the summit a mile or two away.

I finally saw the carrots I was looking for. One single runner up ahead by maybe 10-12 minutes and two other runners within 7-8 minutes. Giddyup! That boosted my energy and I picked up the pace knowing this was the last stretch of the last big climb of the day to make up some time before tha loooooooooooooooong descent back to Mink Creek. We still had 10 miles to go. Easy does it.

The glissade down the north side of Scout was treacherously soft. My feet would sink into the snow with every bounding step and I would quickly have to yank them out and take another giant step lest my forward momentum would carry my upper body down the slope whilst my lower leg remained gripped by the snow in its post hole from the knee down. Dangerous. But still pretty fun! Ha Hah!

I was able to look further down the trail along a stretch I could see and I saw nobody. Nobody ahead, nobody behind. Geez, I haven't ran with a single soul the entire time out here on this last 19 mile loop! A stark contrast to the chatty first 20 miles. Oh well. I'm still feeling good and having fun. WOAH! Is that an iPod?!?! Sho'nuff, there was someone's iPod Shuffle resting on top of a pile of snow as the trail rounded a corner. Hmmmmm... Good luch finding the owner, but I'm sure someone will realize they've lost it and maybe I can get it back to them. I picked it up and put it in a velcro pocket and continued on my way blazing down the trail with a speed I was certain would catch me back up to somebody.

Nope. I got to the final aid station at mile 47 with 5 miles to go (This 50 miler was really 51.8 miles), didn't see signs of any other runners, refilled my two empty bottles (which had been empty for the past 20 minutes or so), took in some Gatorade, packed another couple gels, and set off down the road. Just before the final 500 ft climb through the Nordic Ski Area, I spotted my carrots again. But it was too late. They were 10 or so minutes in front of me and Iwasn't feeling like I had an extra 10 minutes to make up. I slogged up that last climb and glided down the other side knowing the end was within 15 minutes. And then, there I was. At the finish. A happy, dirty, smelly, tired runner who felt thrilled to finally finish a race feeling good. Ahhhhhh...

This race took us on some of the best trails I've ever been on and overall, it was just as well planned and organized in its first year as most other races are in their years and years of experience. It was truly, a first-class event and the race organizers and all the wonderful volunteers deserve all the thanks we runners can give them for taking care of us and allowing us to participate in the first running of what very well could turn out to be one of the country's best 50 mile events.

So if 52 miles and 13,680ft of elevation gain sounds like a super-duper way to spend your saturday, then put this event on your list for next year. It'll be worth it.

Results are here