Lions, Tigers, Bears, an Arthritic Tortoise, and a Mountain Lion Did Nothing Fatal at the Inaugural Bryce 100

Julie W

Okay, let me preface this by saying that this is not your typical race report. It’s more of an epic tale of survival. But I guess that’s what running “hundies,” as they are known in the ultramarathon world, is all about. And it’s also a bit of a cautionary tale, for those who are planning their first hundy.

I BLAME MY DAD

I would also like to state up front that I blame my dad for this whole experience. He visited Bryce Canyon, in southern Utah last fall and told me that it was without a doubt the most beautiful place he had ever been.  Coming from a man who has literally traversed this entire country multiple times, often on his Harley motorcycle, I did not take this assessment lightly. 

Of course, he told me this merely to encourage me to visit one day, NOT to run 100 miles there. However, he should have known better. After all, he has known me literally all my life! Anyway, after getting off the phone with him, I immediately looked online to see if there was an ultramarathon there. And lo and behold, it turned out that there not only was one, it was the first ever Bryce Ultra Marathon 100. I took this as a sign (a good one), and immediately signed up (click here or on pic, below, to view a YouTube video (not my video)! highlighting the beauty and magnitude of the Bryce 100).

I’m not going to bore you all with my training for this race, as I want to get to the fun part…the actual race. But suffice it to say that I had run multiple ultras, up to 76 miles in distance, and have been using Bryon Powell’s book “RelentlessForward Progress” to train. Also, after switching my diet to primal/paleo about a year ago, my training has been going much better, and I have had no issues with GI upset, etc. during longer races (this had been a problem in the past). If you would like to know more about the primal lifestyle, visit the website marksdailyapple.com, or feel free to contact me. 

BEFORE THE RACE

Okay, on to the fun part…the trip!  Having never run at altitude (elevations during the race would range from 7,500 to nearly 10,000 feet), I felt it best to arrive a week early to Bryce. Although it takes 3-4 weeks to really acclimate (making more red blood cells, etc.), most experts believe that the majority of acclimation occurs within the first week, including significant adaptations of respiratory function. Plus, altitude sickness is usually worse in the first few days. Also, I figured if I were going to travel all the way to Utah, I should make a nice vacation out of it and see some sights beforehand. 

This turned out to be the best decision I could have made, as I was able to do two run/hikes of 9-10 miles the weekend before, and enjoy other fun activities (horseback riding, scenic drives, tours of the area) in the days leading up to the race. I stayed at the famous historic Ruby’s Inn, which is more like a little town unto itself, adjacent to the canyon entrance. It was great, as the shuttle into the canyon picks up right there, many tours leave from there, and they even had a grocery store, so I could cook my own meals (something I always try to do before an ultra). Oh, and the best ice cream and really cool rock shop, too!  I highly recommend this place if you ever visit Bryce.

An inevitability with an inaugural race is the unknowns. I wasn’t too worried, as the race director had also directed the Zion 100 the past two years, and it apparently went smoothly. I got a little nervous due to a couple of last-minute course changes, however. The first change occurred a couple weeks before the race, and led to a drastic increase in the total elevation climbed…from around 18,000 feet to around 26,000. 

The second change, which literally occurred a couple of days prior to race day, was a mixed blessing. Rather than being a complete out and back, they had decided to end the race at Ruby’s Inn. While this was great news for someone like me staying there, it would require that I either leave my car at the start and take a shuttle back afterwards (when I would no doubt be exhausted), or find a ride to the start. I immediately went on Facebook to look for someone to carpool with, and through the magic of social media was rewarded within the hour by an offer from Sarah (who will from here on out be referred to as “Tiger.” 

Drop Bags Ready:
What Could Possibly Go Wrong?

We agreed to meet in the lobby at 4:15, and her crew would drop us at the start. Ah, a crew…what a lovely concept! One thing I kept hearing from folks was how “brave” I was to be doing this race without a crew or pacer. I had frankly not given much thought to this, as I had never had either in any of my previous races, with the exception of two friends who walked through the night with me in the 20in24 race. Frankly, I didn’t really see the need for such luxuries, as you could leave drop bags at every aid station (approximately 5-9 miles apart). I mean, what could possibly go wrong? More about that later.

Race day pre-dawned with a prediction of perfect weather (highs in the 60’s, lows in the 30’s and no humidity or chance of rain). I met Tiger right on time, and was introduced to her crew: Eric from Chicago (hereafter named Bear) and Leo from SoCal (hereafter named, you guessed it: Lion). 

From Left: Lion, Tiger and Bear
Before the Race

The ultra world being small as it is, it turns out that I had met Lion a few weeks earlier when I ran the Leona Divide 50 miler. I had referred to him at the time as “Flag Pant Man,” due to the fact that he ran the entire race in 90 degree heat wearing American flag pant skinny jeans. He did this to honor his father in-law, a veteran who had recently passed away. I recognized him immediately, due to the fact that he was wearing the same pants to pace Tiger in the last 50 miles of the race. A true glutton for punishment, I’d say, considering the chafing that would no doubt ensue!

AND WE'RE OFF AND RUNNING

The race started as the sun was coming up, and we were treated to one of the most beautiful stretches of the race right at the beginning. This portion of the course was added later, and was one of the reasons for a course change. It was definitely worth it. I had decided from the start that I would go at my “arthritic tortoise” pace, as they had already stated that you could finish after the 36 hour cutoff and still receive a beautiful artist-designed belt buckle at the finish, although your time would not be “official” after the cutoff. 

Things were going really well, until I started the leg between the 3^rd and 4^th aid station. All of a sudden, it seemed like we were going straight up a very rocky path forever. Although I never had altitude sickness per se, I was definitely feeling the effects of the thin air, and had to pause many times to catch my breath. This very difficult leg was made better by my having partnered with an MD pathologist from the University of San Francisco named Harris (hereafter called trekking pole guy). 

We passed a good 3 hours together comparing diseases until he trekked his way on ahead. During our conversation, I learned that he had done the Hardrock 100 and was planning on going again this year. I was quite impressed, as this is known to be one of the hardest ultras in the world, with elevations of 14,000 feet requiring a 48 hour cutoff! He made me feel better by telling me that the Leadville 100, which I had already signed up for this August, was an easier course than Bryce, despite a higher peak altitude (12,600 feet).  

I shuffled into the 4^th aid station (just over 26 miles in) very concerned about my ability to finish this race. I didn’t know it at the time, but that leg was the hardest of the entire course. Tiger was already there, and looking very exhausted, if not outright defeated. She was having trouble eating and drinking, and this was affecting her not only physically but mentally as well. Lion and Bear were doing what they could to help, but I had concerns that she was done for the day. I certainly hoped not. 

Amazingly, being true to her nickname, Tiger kept going, and stayed around 10-15 minutes behind me for most of the day. This enabled me to visit with Bear and Lion at the aid stations, who served as my honorary crew as well. They were awesome!

The remainder of the daylight hours passed relatively uneventfully. People often ask me what I think about while running for hours on end, and truthfully you don’t have a chance to think about much except where you are putting your foot in the next step. Otherwise you will fall on your butt! In this respect, running an ultra becomes a moving meditation, and I think this is why I love it so much…you have to be in the moment. 

Thinking about where you’ve been, and especially about what is still to come, can be damaging on many levels. The course was primarily single-track, with some double-track 4WD road, and although most was not terribly technical, you definitely need to watch your step. I had brought my IPod, but never had the desire to use it. The terrain was wonderfully variable, with steep rocky stretches, gorgeous aspen groves, and of course, the amazing pink rock formations, known as hoodos, that Bryce is famous for…they look like they should be on Mars!

Beutiful Hoodos

I Think We're On Mars!

Around 8PM, I began to ascend a seemingly endless series of switchbacks leading to the Pink Cliffs aid station at mile 45. Along the way, several runners passed me going the other direction, as they had reached the 50 mile turnaround well ahead of me. They all said the same thing: “not much further to go,” and “you are going to be amazed by the views up there!” I had already learned from previous ultras not to trust the “not much further to go,” as you really have no concept of distance out there, and I tried to ignore that part. I was very curious about the view, however, and also concerned that I wouldn’t make it before sunset. 

At this point, I was mainly walking, and my stomach was giving me trouble for the first and only time that day, probably as the result of having some vegan broth at the last aid station. When will I ever learn not to try anything new in an ultra, particularly if it might have gluten in it? Redoubling my efforts, I made it to Pink Cliffs about 10 minutes before the sun went down, and was not disappointed. It was breathtaking! However, the wind was literally howling, with temperatures dropping rapidly, and I didn’t stay long. 

Trail Along the Ridge

I had also underestimated how slow I would be going, and my headlamp was at the 50 mile turnaround. Fortunately, I had stowed a flashlight in my bag just in case. I threw on my thin jacket (my other clothes were also further down the line), and headed out. It took me around 2 hours to go the roughly 5 miles between Pink Cliffs and the turnaround. The last 2 miles seemed to take forever, as the trail was very narrow and rocky, and I didn’t encounter very many folks at that stage. Although the night running was pretty cool, as the stars were amazingly bright, I could see how this might mess with my head if I were to do the whole night alone.

THE FINISH

I arrived at the 50 mile turnaround at 10:50, and was informed by the wonderful volunteers (all of the volunteers for the race were wonderful, by the way!) that they were still open for another 10 minutes. I was a bit surprised by this, as I had assumed that if the cutoff had been extended they would extend the aid station cutoffs as well. This was apparently not the case, or at least no one had told them. I was then informed that Pink Cliffs would close at 1AM, two hours after this one, and the next one at 4AM. I wasn’t worried about Pink Cliffs, as even if I didn’t make it there by the cutoff, I would still have plenty of water, etc., but I was pretty sure I wouldn’t make it to the next one by 4AM, in the dark, descending very steep and rocky paths. 

An added problem was that many of the aid stations, including those three, had no way of communicating with one another due to their remoteness, and therefore no one would know I was out there to wait for me or look for me if I didn’t show up. It was at this point that I made the very difficult decision to stop at the 50 mile point. I was too worried to go it alone in the dark, with no pacer, crew, water, etc.  

Lion and Bear were there waiting on Tiger, and I knew I could get a ride back with them.  I had never DNF’d a race before, and I was very emotional. The kind volunteers gave me a beer, wrapped me in a blanket, and let me grieve. Lion was quick to point out that DNF stands for “Did Nothing Fatal,” and everyone seemed to agree that I made the right decision.

Concerns then turned to Tiger, whom Lion and Bear had not seen since the aid station prior to Pink Cliffs. Their car couldn’t access Pink Cliffs, and because they couldn’t communicate with them, they were pretty sure she had dropped there or was en route slowly, perhaps hurt. It was very stressful, and Lion decided to head out towards Pink Cliffs, sweeping the trail as he went. Another man was looking for his wife and stepson, and Lion promised to look for them as well. Shortly after Lion headed out, a truck pulled up with Tiger in it. She had dropped at Pink Cliffs, and was looking worse for wear. The most concerning thing was her cough, which was wet and nearly constant. 

Concerns immediately went to pulmonary edema, which is a common symptom of altitude sickness. However, we had also inhaled a great deal of dust that day, so it was possible that was the problem. Either way, we wanted to get her down off the mountain as soon as possible. Unfortunately, it took another 1 ½ hours for Lion to return, so we holed up in the rental car with the heater on. 

The Rental Car.  You Can Imagine How Dirty We Were!

When Lion got back, he had some very scary news to report: As he was scanning the areas off the trail, he saw two green eyes. He thought at first that it might be a bear, but then the eyes quickly dropped towards the ground, and he knew it was a large cat. He kept running, turning his head periodically to look over his shoulder for the cat. 

Sure enough, a mountain lion came out onto the trail and stared at him. He quickly turned around, spreading his arms wide to look bigger, and the cat kept walking off the trail. WHEW!! Unfortunately, while looking over his shoulder, he stubbed his toe hard on a rock, breaking it. OUCH!! That didn’t deter him from running the other 3 plus miles to pink cliffs, though, proving yet again that ultrarunners are both tough and crazy! It was really frightening to think that I had just come up that trail 15 minutes earlier. That cat had been there all along, watching the headlamps going by. Fortunately, he decided we weren’t worth the trouble. We probably smelled too bad!

Hello Mountain Lion!  Good Kitty :)

Well, that’s about it. In the end, we all survived (Did Nothing Fatal), and had quite an experience. Lion and I went later that day to watch the runners crossing the line after 35 hours. It was hard to believe that we had gone through all that, showered, slept, had breakfast, napped, etc, and they were out there all that time! I got to see a lot of folks I had met on the trail at the finish, including Trekking pole guy, and handed out some belt buckles.

My impression of the race is that it is definitely doable, but I should have trained more with hikes, like in Bear Mountain, as much of the course was not really runnable. Also, if I’d had a crew, or even just a pacer, I could have kept going despite the closing of aid stations. I won’t make this mistake again. The race director has promised to do something to improve communications. It was an amazingly beautiful course, and I would recommend it. I will return next year...for the whole distance this time! Lion is already planning to sign up…can’t wait to see what pants he will be wearing. Thanks for reading!

-Julie W