Brianna arrived at the aid station at around 7:30 AM. She looked tired, which was to be expected. But overall, she was holding it together really well. Upon arrival, she immediately took a seat by the fire while Nick and the volunteers brought her coffee and food. Even though the sun had risen, the cold mountain air still lingered. I noticed Brianna was wearing a clear plastic trash bag over her running gear for warmth. It turned out the summit of Burney Mountain, where she just ran down from, was only twenty-eight degrees. She told us the climb up to the summit in the dark was pretty sketchy. Kaitie accompanied her during most of the climb but at some point, they got separated from each other. Areas of fog had developed near the summit. The fog became so thick, Brianna felt as though she was running in a cloud. She could only see as far as the beam of her headlamp, which only lit up the white fluffiness that surrounded her. All she could see was the trail when she looked down and the dense fog that surrounded her when she looked forward. Even under normal circumstances, this situation wouldn't be ideal, but when you're sixty miles into an ultramarathon, going on twenty-six hours of no sleep, and you can't see where you're going, the situation becomes rather frightening. There were no lights and no other runners in sight. As she marched up the trail through the foggy darkness, Brianna was feeling very isolated. In a moment of distress, she called out "hello? Is anyone out there?". It was an unsettling situation, but shortly afterwards, her and Kaitie found each other again. She was relieved, but unfortunately the rendezvous didn't remedy the fact that it was cold, foggy, and windy. At least they had each other to get through that rough spot. The aid station crew at the summit wrapped her up in a sleeping bag, and she took a forty-five-minute nap. It helped to restore her energy a little, but when she woke up shivering, she knew it was time to get moving again. The volunteers put the plastic trash bag around her as a makeshift poncho, and from there, she descended the eight-and-a-half miles down the mountain into the sunrise and back to the aid station.
We took off together down the path, departing the aid station at around 8:00 AM. Brianna had thirty miles left to cover and twelve-and-a-half hours before the cutoff. As long as she kept putting one foot in front of the other, she would make it. My job as the pacer was to do everything in my power to help her get to the finish line. The rest of the course was mostly downhill and didn't have any major climbs, so I felt cautiously optimistic. It's a hundred miles, so a lot of things could happen. But at least at the moment, things looked pretty promising. Brianna's knee was still hurting her, but she was able to mitigate the soreness by taking pain killers. She assured Nick and I that she felt confident that she wasn't at risk of doing long-lasting damage to her knee, so we trusted that. We hiked our way down a dirt road through the wilderness that would lead us to the Goose Valley Road aid station, eleven miles away. Nick, Fierra, and Chevelle passed by us in the van along the way and cheered for us. Even though we were able to pass the time by engaging in casual conversation, we were eager to get to the next aid station. We were making good enough time that we could have hiked the rest of the race and still finished, but to calm Brianna's fears of missing the cutoff, we decided to get some time "in the bank". We picked up the pace and ran a little bit here and there. Brianna initially felt like she couldn't run anymore because of her knee pain, but to her surprise, she was able to shuffle for about a minute at a time. Sometimes you just need to try something to see what you're capable of.
The dirt road eventually deposited us onto Goose Valley Road, and the aid station came into view in a parking lot on the roadside. It was a welcoming site. A few of the race staff and volunteers had driven by us on the dirt road offering kudos and advising us that we were getting closer. With an eleven-mile gap, it was one of the longest stretches between aid stations on the course. Nick, Fierra, and Chevelle were waiting for us when we arrived. One of the really exciting parts of this adventure was having Fierra and Chevelle witness their mom do something so extraordinary. At twelve and ten years old, it seemed cool for them to witness firsthand how dedicated Brianna was and how anyone can do hard things if they put in the effort. They were also used to spending a lot of time outdoors, so they seemed to enjoy carting around in the family van to the aid stations. I'm sure Biscuit was enjoying the ride too. The volunteers were cooking up breakfast quesadillas for the runners and the crew members on camping stoves. They had all the fixings you could want. Scrambled eggs, bacon, cheese, sausage, etc. The volunteers and aid stations at this race were really top notch. Many of the staff members and volunteers were friends and family members of Jen, the race director, and founding member of Intermountain Endurance. Jen is a local runner from Burney who founded Intermountain Endurance to put on local races including this one, the Weekend at Burney backyard ultra, and the Great Shasta Rail Trail Races, which I ran in 2023 and 2024. What kept me coming back year after year was this community and how cool the people were. There was definitely a lot of local spirit in the air. The breakfast quesadillas were delicious, and with our stomachs full, Brianna and I departed the Goose Valley Road aid station and made our way up a long a steady incline through a ranch. Along the way we passed by Kaitie and gave her some words of encouragement. She seemed to be managing well, and we were pretty sure we'd be seeing her again over the next several miles.
At the top of the incline the path deposited us onto a long, straight rail trail that would continue on for several miles through the wilderness. Tall pine trees lined much of the path. The temperature was comfortable, but when the sun felt hot, the trees did a good job of providing shade on the trailside. Even though the path was straight and fully visible on the horizon, the scenery was beautiful. At this point, Brianna was experiencing mild hallucinations. She would see what she thought were animals, or people lying down off the side of the trail, but they kept turning out to be logs. Hallucinating is a pretty common thing during 100-milers. I've had my share of hallucinations during ultramarathons, and it's always a trip. The best thing to do was to keep moving onward. We came to a river crossing at mile eighty-six. One of the volunteers at the last aid station advised us to cross the river using the path with mowed grass, otherwise we would be chest deep in water, versus knee deep if we went through the mowed grass. Brianna and I made it across, then used a rope to hoist ourselves up the embankment. From there, it was two miles along the rail trail to the next aid station at Black Ranch. We paused there to spend a few minutes with the crew and volunteers, and refill our water and electrolytes. Brianna's knee was still hurting, but the pain was manageable. Over the last several miles we had been hiking and shuffling along. When we left the Black Ranch aid station, we had twelve miles left to go, and the cutoff for the finish line was six hours away. The pitch along the rail trail was relatively flat with only modest elevation change, so as we shuffled along and made up more time, our concerns about making the cutoff slowly melted away. As long as there were no major issues, Brianna would beat the cutoff by plenty of time. To her credit, she was holding it together really well, especially for her first 100-mile attempt. We crossed the junction where the path intersected with highway 89 and came upon a water drop around mile ninety-six. The finish line was getting closer with each step. With four miles left to go, the course left the rail trail and diverted us onto the Pacific Crest Trail. The path was narrow, and rugged in some areas. We also would go long periods without seeing one of the red and white ribbons that marked the course. We had a couple of instances where we wondered if we missed a turn, but then we would come upon a ribbon and realize that all was good.
When we crossed the junction at highway 299, that meant we only had two miles left until the finish. Brianna was dead tired, her knee was hurting, and she was running low on energy. "I don't even know what I'm doing anymore" she said. "Me no likey". I couldn't help but chuckle to myself a little. This is the beauty of ultrarunning. It brings out so many emotions in people. During marathons, most runners hit the wall sometime between mile twenty and mile twenty-three. During a 100-miler, runners hit multiple walls. And once enough miles are covered, the psychological barriers get stripped away and we get a firsthand look at the good, the bad, and the hilarious. I gave Brianna some positive psychological encouragement and assured her that we were on the home stretch, and we'd be at the finish line before we knew it. We made our way through the powerlines section and soon came upon a sign indicating that we had arrived at the Burney Mountain Guest Ranch, where the start and finish line were. We spotted the finish line in the distance and began shuffling as quickly as we could. As we got closer, we could see Nick, Fierra, Chevelle, Jen, and several other runners and volunteers cheering us on. Brianna crossed the finish line at 6:30 PM, clocking in at exactly thirty-eight hours, with two hours to spare before the cutoff. It was incredible to see! We were all proud of her for the grit and determination she displayed along the way. She had conquered the unthinkable and we were all super happy for her. The whole crowd gathered around her and gave her hugs, congratulating her on her finish. It was a really cool moment for Nick, Fierra, and Chevelle to witness. I knew this was something they would remember for the rest of their lives. Brianna was now a 100-mile finisher, and that would stick with their family forever. Kaitie ended up coming in as the final runner, thirty minutes before the cutoff time, so it was great to see her finish as well. It was an awesome day, and I was honored to be part of the journey.
