Saturday 5/29/21
My alarm broke the middle of the night silence at 3:00 AM and I soon began gathering my clothes and supplies for what was sure to be an exciting and unforgettable weekend in Auburn. Sammy had several pet sitting assignments over the long weekend so unfortunately she wouldn't be able to tag along, but I was excited for the adventure that lay ahead. I left Silicon Valley at 3:30 AM, made a quick stop for some McDonald's breakfast near Sacramento, and arrived in Foresthill about three hours later. The organizers had set up a makeshift finish line and check-in area in the parking lot of the Foresthill Elementary School, which always seemed to serve as the proverbial basecamp for local races. After a pre-run briefing, all two-hundred or so of us were hauled off in school buses from Foresthill up to Robinson Flat campground.
The stretch of the course that we would be running today was mile thirty-one to mile sixty-two of Western States. This section is particularly notorious among racers not only because they have to contend with the thought of running seventy more miles upon arrival at Robinson Flat, but also because the course descends into and climbs out of several canyons over the next thirty-one miles. The conditions can be extreme, often with excessive heat and very little air movement in the gorges. I began running shortly after 8:30 AM. The first twelve miles were relatively gentle and when I arrived at the first aid station at Dusty Corners I only paused there for a chance to refill my water bottles and wolf down a couple of slices of watermelon. Even though the training runs were not timed races, the organizers rose to the occasion by setting up three aid stations along the course with plenty of fuel and enthusiastic volunteers. The fact that there were so many people out here in the middle of nowhere selflessly working the aid stations and keeping us moving made me smile and I felt grateful.
After Miller's Defeat, the course descended down several switchbacks, and after passing through Last Chance at around the half marathon mark, the trail took a nose dive down into Deadwood Canyon. The switchbacks became steeper, the terrain more unruly, and the footing more tricky. The swinging bridge at the bottom of the canyon eventually came into view and several runners were admiring the American River flowing underneath. With several years of running and hiking through nature to back it up, I can say quite confidently that the sound of flowing water through otherwise pure silence is one of the most peaceful things I've ever heard. It was a nice sight to take in before tackling the infamous 1,700-foot climb up to Devil's Thumb, which never seems to get any friggin' easier no matter how many times I do it. The uphill climb was ruthless and the heat was becoming brutal. It was nearing noon and the temperatures were already well into the 80's. Once I'd survived the climb and passed through Devil's Thumb, the second aid station emerged through the brush up ahead. Normally aid stations are a welcoming sight, but the situation quickly went sideways when I approached the volunteers. "Don't mind the bees" they said cheerfully. "They won't bother you as long as you just be cool". Before I could process their words, I was swarmed by what appeared to be at least a hundred bees, and a good twenty of them landed on me all over my arms, hands, and chest. "Oh shit" I said with some surprise. It was a unique time of year where even though Spring was in full throttle, it was unusually hot and dry out in the Sierra foothills. The bees needed some relief and were in search of some moisture, which meant whenever a sweaty runner passed through, the bees came swarming. They weren't looking for trouble they just wanted some dampness. I waited patiently but anxiously while the volunteers filled my water bottles. I tried not to move as my new little friends continued to buzz around me. I was well aware that one false move could quickly turn them into my enemies. With my water bottles full, I carefully made my exit, moving away from the aid station at a painstakingly slow rate, as if I were the Tin Man and needed some oil. Thankfully, I escaped without getting stung. The four mile descent into El Dorado Canyon was relatively fast and uplifting, however the downhill was followed inevitably by an ass-kicking 2,000-foot three mile climb to Michigan Bluff. The ascent was even more harsh than the climb up to Devil's Thumb. The air in the gorge of the canyon was thick as Irish stew and the heat was quickly wearing me down. I had to sit down and regroup along the side of the trail twice during the climb.
When I finally arrived at the final aid station at Michigan Bluff, I was overheated and desperately needed to take in some food and fluids. As I sat on the curb trying to get my head straight, a cute dog really wanted my peanut butter and jelly sandwich. "Sorry dude, I need all the food I can get right now" I said sympathetically as I scratched his ear. Eventually it was time to get a move on. Regrouping at Michigan Bluff had done some good, but because the heat was so intense, whatever energy I had left was quickly being depleted. Luckily, today's finish line in Foresthill was just six miles away. The remainder of the run was slow and the heat continued to trouble me, but I ran into Volcano Canyon, pulled myself up the final climb, and finally arrived back in Foresthill at the finish line. The excitement of reaching the end quickly made me forget about how tired and overheated I was feeling. The finish area was thriving with volunteers serving hot food, and runners exchanging stories and banter with one another as they sat in folding chairs under canvas tents. I walked to my car to get cleaned up, drove to a gas station down Foresthill road, and returned to the finish area to join in the fun with some ice cold cans of Little Hazy Thing IPA.
Saturday Night
Day one was in the books. The temps had reached about 88 degrees Fahrenheit, and the heat slowed me down, but overall it was a great day. The bees at the second aid station in Deadwood were unnerving, and I especially felt bad for the volunteers at that location, but they didn't seem to mind too much. Either way, they're awesome for being out there. I met a lot of cool people, including two ladies from the Midwest who had traveled to California together for the weekend, a guy who had written a book about being a bipolar endurance athlete, and a couple of people who were fairly new to ultrarunning. That evening after checking into the motel and taking a shower, I celebrated with some takeout pizza and chicken wings from Lucky J's. While I was waiting for my pizza I discovered a drink at a gas station called "Gatorlyte" which apparently was Gatorade's version of Pedialyte. It was exactly what I needed after today and I bought a couple of bottles. With the Gatorlyte consumed, and my stomach full, I shut off the TV and lights and closed my eyes to get some rest for day 2.
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