Monument Valley 100

Let me start by stating unequivocally, that Ultra Adventures’ Monument Valley is the must-do, bucket-list race for every ultra runner out there.  Yes, there’s lots of SAND to put up with, but you simply will not find another race with this kind of non-stop scenery.  The kind of scenery that’s been used in countless movies.  Add to that a nice dose of Navajo culture and a most caring race director.  What more could you possibly ask for in a race experience?

I am so incredibly lucky and thankful to be an Ultra Adventures ambassador and be able to take part in these amazing races.

Monument Valley was my 3rd 100 of the year and only 3 weeks after the Antelope Canyon 100 that tore my feet up with all the sand.  Ultra Signup had me ranked at 3rd male and 6th overall - my highest ever ranking.  Given that I’ve always beat their ranking (if not their predicted time), I figured I had a pretty good chance at another podium finish and, if I played my cards right, perhaps even my first ever win.  I tried my best not to get too cocky.  Anything can happen in the course of 100 miles, and any of the other runners could have been under-ranked.

With a slight breeze and temps in the 30’s, I was shivering at the pre-dawn start.  I could have stayed in my warm car for a bit longer, but Matt arranged for a Navajo prayer ceremony by Larry and his daughter and I did not want to miss it.  This was quite a different start than your typical race, blaring rock music with an obnoxious announcer trying to get everyone fired up.

After all the runners sprinkled a pinch of ground corn into the morning breeze, we were off.

The first leg of the course, heading to the Mystery Valley AS was probably the most “boring”.  The word “boring” is in quotes because it’s meant as a comparison to the rest of the day.  The views would have been an incredible highlight for any other race, yet they paled in comparison to what was yet to come.  We headed south, mainly down a SANDY road as the 35 or so runners settled into their pace.  A couple of guys went out pretty fast and I wound up about a third of the way down in the pack.  I stopped to take a few pictures and checked back repeatedly, but unfortunately the sunrise was blocked by distant clouds.  Starting out in a long-sleeved shirt and gloves, I was still chilled until we arrived at Mystery Valley.  The sun was breaking through and after a quick re-supply, I left the shirt with my drop bag.

The next leg to Weatherhill Mesa AS started to get a bit more interesting, though still mostly on loose SAND.  We wound in and out of a few canyons that featured amazing arches and ancient ruins.  I ran a bit in this section with Eric (from New York ) and Ken (from Tennessee).  I had worked with Eric the previous day in filling up sandbags to anchor the tents back at base camp.

At Weatherhill, I had packed an extra bottle in my drop bag since the out-and-back section to the top of the mesa was supposed to be 9 miles.  The sun was out and the temperature was climbing, but at the last moment, I decided to forgo the extra bottle so I could keep a free hand for taking pictures.  I’m glad I did, as the single bottle was just enough and my camera was out almost the entire time.

Leaving the aid station, we went up the sandy wash for just a bit and then got right into the climb up a gnarly slickrock trail.  I passed a few runners on the way up, though I was in no real hurry this early in the race.  I still stopped frequently to take pictures and tried to snap a shot of all the other runners also.  The views from the top were magnificent and the sun was still low enough to bathe the rocks in a soft, warm light.  Once at the “top”, we ran close to the edge of the mesa and I darted off to the side a few times to take shots overlooking the valley.

I was really looking forward to the downhill return and enjoyed the bit of effortless speed.  I didn’t overdo it though and still took time to stop whenever I came across an uphill runner to take their photo.  Most came out well and I’ve posted them in my FB album.  This out-and-back lollipop was also a nice opportunity to see other runner friends like Guy and Rachael.  I found that the whole course was conducive to this, without being overly repetitive.

Back at the Mitchell AS, I took a minute to empty the SAND out of my shoes, restocked snacks and took off.  The return to Mystery Valley AS wasn’t quite the same as the trip out.  This provided for a bit of variety as well as an opportunity to see some different ruins.  I came across Matt by one of these and welcomed his encouraging words.  Just after, I came upon Matthew Van Horn with his drone.  He was bringing it in for a landing as I ran by and I voiced my disappointment, so he lifted off again and followed me for a good bit.  Unfortunately, this section was slow, loose SAND and didn’t make for the best running, but I’m hoping to see some cool aerial footage.  Being in the spotlight, I worked extra hard and ran faster even in the SAND so I could look good for the camera.  I was actually relieved when the drone turned back as I could slow down and relax again.

Just before coming back into the Mystery Valley AS, I passed another runner and when inquiring at the AS, I was told that I was now in 2nd place and number 1 was 18 minutes ahead.  This was quite a pleasant surprise, less than 30 miles in, but from here, back to the Start/Finish, I slowed a bit.  The sun and the drone induced sprint were catching up to me and despite the open terrain, I couldn’t see the lead runner but I tried not to let it bother me too much.

I figured I was losing time in this section, but by the time I got to the Start/Finish, I had apparently cut the lead down to 12 minutes.  That was a very pleasant surprise and between the good news, and the energy of all the spectators and volunteers, I headed down Valley Drive rather upbeat.  I’m sure the big fat cookie that I snagged at the AS helped also.

Luckily the car traffic on the road was pretty light so the dust that the cars were kicking up wasn’t a problem.  I also was able to pick out the lead runner’s tracks on the dusty road and noticed that my stride was consistently longer than his.  Unless he was short and/or had a very quick cadence, this meant that I was moving faster than him and continuing to shorten his lead. And just before coming into the Hogan AS for the first time, I ran across Jeff Kasal , the first place runner by about 8 minutes.  I had managed to cut his lead by another 4 minutes in less than 4 miles.

It was fun to see Katrin at Hogan with all of her student volunteers.  Having an experienced ultra runner as an aid station captain is awesome.  She kept me informed, was incredibly supportive and encouraging, and very efficient in helping me to move through and out repeatedly.

I was a bit concerned about the course around the Hogan AS.  We were to visit a total of 6 times, running a short loop and a long loop clockwise, an out-and-back to Mitchell Mesa, then the long loop and short loop counter-clockwise.  This was difficult enough to follow on the map, but actually doing it in practice, at night, with many miles on the mind and body was downright intimidating.  While you couldn’t afford to be totally brain-dead, the system that was put in place was extremely effective and I personally had a pretty easy time with it.  Great job done by Matt and his crew in making a potentially difficult situation into a non-issue.

It was tempting to chase after Jeff, and being in second place so early in a race and with only an 8 minute deficit was an unfamiliar position to be in, but I held back and took my time.  It wound up taking me the next 12 miles to finally catch up to him - non-stop photo opportunities kept slowing me down.

The short, 4.5 mile, North Window loop was first.  Out of Hogan, we headed back on Valley Drive for a couple of hundred yards then off on a cross country section.  The initial climb off the road was a bit harsh as the clay had been torn up by cattle then hardened, creating a very uneven surface.  After the short climb, we ran across fields of sage brush and before turning off towards the mesa edge, came upon a Native American woman tending a table of goods.  Though there was access here via a dead-end dirt road, it was a very remote location and I can’t imagine more than a handful of vehicles coming out even on a busy day. I waved, yelled out a greeting, and continued on my way.  About a third of the way around, we crossed another dirt road which was part of the longer Arches loop.  I thought the crossing was pretty straight forward, but apparently some runners had a hard time figuring it out.  The sun was high and hot, but the scenery was still spectacular so I kept the camera out most of the time.

Back at Hogan again, I tended to my feet.  I emptied out the sand, smeared copious amounts of vaseline on my toes and put on a fresh pair of socks.  I grabbed a second hand-held bottle and then set out on the Arches loop, which started on a dirt road.  Again, I could see Jeff’s footprints and I was still running with a slightly longer stride, especially on the downhills.  Back onto a trail and then out into a parking area where a few tourist cars were gathered.  The course led through a gate marked “No Trespassing”.  I love it when we get to go where others can’t.  The route lead down a very rough road and across a small creek that I was easily able to jump.  As I started climbing up the other side, I looked off to my right and for the first time noticed these giant sand dunes.  Sure, we had been running through lots of sand all day, but these were barren dunes like a picturesque desert.  And up on top were a group of horseback riders, with sandstone monoliths in the background.  The pictures don’t do the scene justice.

After snapping a few pics, I continued on along a SAND road, crossed the creek again and the road turned into tire tracks on the dunes.  I hated the SAND, but loved the diversity.  I soon came up on three free-roaming horses that skirted around me as my camera clicked away.  Being able to see for some distance again, I scanned the horizon and spotted Jeff far ahead on the dunes.  I could have caught up to him sooner, but I just couldn’t stop taking pictures.

Nearing the south end of the loop, I came off the dunes, around a sandstone cliff, and was faced with the first arch.  Click, click, run a few hundred feet, and there’s another one.  More pictures and then back onto the SAND road.  The very south end of the loop was in a bit of a canyon, shaded enough that there was a field of snow tempting me to jump in.  I didn’t.  The course took a sharp, almost U-turn to the right, past another arch, click, click.

I could now see Jeff off in the distance again, checked my watch as he ran by a boulder, and timed the difference.  It was a bit over 4 minutes, but confusing because there was a short out-and-back to yet another arch, made almost inaccessible by a large pool of water.

I was now gaining ground rapidly, and checking the diminishing time gap periodically.  Soon enough, I finally caught Jeff with only a couple of miles to go before another stop by the Hogan AS.  He asked if I wanted to pass, but he was running at a good pace and I settled in with him, enjoying the companionship that I hadn’t had since early morning.  We chatted a good bit and came into Hogan together.

Though the sun was getting lower, I was making great time and somehow convinced myself that it was only 9 miles up to Mitchell Mesa and back.  Therefore, I took a small gamble and headed off with no shirt and no light, figuring that I could make it back before dark settled in and the temperatures dropped.

I called out to Jeff as I headed out of the aid station and he followed only seconds back, but as we headed up a gently sloped road, he fell further behind.  I was feeling pretty good and running a decent pace, though not pushing it.  As I got closer to the water only aid station at the bottom of Mitchell Mesa, I started questioning the distance, trying to remember the map and my stupid spreadsheet.  Now I was convinced that this section was 12 miles.  Holy crap, an extra 3 miles would make it almost impossible to get back before dark.  As I started up what looked like a vertical wall up the side of Mitchell Mesa, my mind was busy recalculating every few minutes.  Could I make it?

Part way up, I came across three park rangers on their way down.  I asked them the distance to the turnaround and their assessment was good news - shorter than 12 miles, but I just couldn’t trust their distances.  So I motored on up, vowing that I wouldn’t end up having my hypothermic body rescued by them in the dark.  I periodically looked back down and couldn’t believe what I had climbed up.  The “trail” consisted of pretty steep switchbacks, littered with rocks - small ones, big ones.  Finally, up on top, I could run again, but of course, I had to make multiple stops for pictures.  The sun was quite low and the light was perfect.  Even the threat of hypothermia couldn’t keep me from capturing the views.

I made my way to the turnaround, used the hole punch to mark my bib, screamed down towards the Finish line in the valley below, took yet more pictures and headed back, constantly recalculating the remaining time and distance.  Just before the descent, I came across Jeff on his way up.  I tried to push on the descent from the mesa also, but the rocks and boulders required careful tap-dancing.

Back at Hogan, I dropped off my camera, picked up a flashlight, shirt, and second bottle and headed out on my second Arches loop.  It didn’t get dark until I got to the first arch and I really enjoyed the reversed loop as I got to see other runners pretty often, even with such a small field.  Most of them were running in pairs or small groups, which was probably a smart idea for both route finding and camaraderie.  Having run the loops in the daytime made a big difference as I knew pretty well where to go and what to expect.  I ‘m sure it was more difficult for the later runners who were running it for the first time now in the dark.  Finding their way would be more challenging and they missed out on some incredible sights.

My only challenge was hydration.  Soon after leaving Hogan, I realized that the volunteers had put Hammer Heed in one of my bottles.  God that stuff is vile.  Luckily the other bottle had water in it.  I had to drink some of the Heed and quickly wash it down with water as a single bottle wasn’t going to be enough.  I was especially happy to get back to Hogan and fill up on cold cola and hot soup.

Off onto the North Window loop.  The night sky was amazing.  So full of stars.  I didn’t get to see any more runners on this loop, but I was still running well and enjoying the cool temperatures.

On my previous visit to Hogan, I asked Katrin to track how far behind Jeff was.  Last time I saw him was on top of Mitchell Mesa and he was only about 15 minutes back.  To my surprise, when I returned to Hogan for the last time, Katrin told me that Jeff had not even come in yet, giving me more than a one hour lead.  With more than 20 miles to go, I knew the race wasn’t over yet, but it sure felt good to have such a comfy lead.  As it turned out, Jeff dropped out at some point.  What a shame - he was running so strong in the first half.

I left Hogan for the last time and headed back onto Valley Drive for a bit.  The route turned off onto a wide wash.  The running here wasn’t too bad as the recent moisture made the ground quite firm.  Markings were a little sparse, but I didn’t worry as there was no getting lost within the wash.  As soon as I’d get a little nervous, a reflective marker would appear in the distance.  After a few miles, clear signs and markers guided me out of the wash and to the left, then down into another, smaller wash.  Shortly after popping out of this second wash is where my troubles started.

I was following a reasonably marked, though rather faint trail just above the wash when the markings disappeared.  I searched around for a bit after a couple of hundred yards and decided to turn back before I got really lost.  This area felt so incredibly remote, even though I could see lights many miles off in the distance.  I got back to the last flag, looked around and convinced myself that there was a faint trail going straight ahead, the way I had just gone.  So off I went in the same direction again.  This time I went a bit farther and then started to wander from side to side but still couldn’t find any more flags.  I got a bit lost and panicked slightly.  I was hoping I was close to the East Mitten AS so I called out a bunch of times but got no response.  As it turned out, I was still 1 ½ to 2 miles away.

I eventually made my way back to the last flag, took a deep breath and started searching again.  Wahoo!  This time I saw some flagging off to the right that was blown flat against a bush.  What a relief.  I moved along now but I had really lost my momentum, along with a good 15 minutes or so.  This next section to the aid station was a bit tough.  It was cross country, and I had a hard time finding the markers.  It just felt like they weren’t in a straight line.  Offset by just a bit so that I would have to stop at each marker, look around, find the next one and then run to it.

I was thrilled to reach the East Mitten AS.  The guy and gal there recognized me from Antelope Canyon and I let them know about my problems over the previous section.  I appreciated that they took me seriously though I am curious if I was the only one that had issues.

After a quick refueling (cola and awesome grilled cheese sandwiches), I set off towards Brigham’s Tomb.  I didn’t have any issues with the markings here but the terrain turned kind of ugly in sections.  There were stretches of loose, deep SAND, some sections that felt like powdered clay (softer and deeper than the SAND), and some sections through a wash that had sticky, clayey mud.  I was not having a very good time.

I made it to the intersection to turn off to the out-and-back section to the Brigham AS and turned right.  I hadn’t realized just how long this section was (maybe a mile or so) and kept expecting to come up on the aid station.  I finally saw a fire and tent in the distance.  The trail wound around a bit, crossed a small drainage, and dumped me out into a paddock with a few horses and at least a dozen barking dogs.  The dogs were friendly enough, some were playful puppies, but I couldn’t see the aid station anymore and there were no further markings.  I doubled back a bit to the last marker, looked around carefully and then walked straight through all the animals again.  The aid station was hidden beyond a bend.  The Navajo men that were running the station were very friendly and quite surprised that I had a hard time finding it.

I didn’t stay long, grabbed some food, more cola, warmed quickly by the campfire and took off, anxious to finish off the night.  I made it back to the junction just fine, followed the drainage for a bit, then the trail pretty much contoured on the side of a hill for a while.  This was an actual trail, but very faint as the ground was mostly hard.  The flagging could have been a bit more frequent.  I was back to the look for flagging, run to it, look for the next flagging, repeat, routine.  My body was probably capable of running faster at this point but I was still paranoid about getting lost again.

The route eventually dropped down and then went straight up the side of a very steep and loose SAND dune.  The trail was pretty easy to pick out now, but the going was slow.  Part way up, I turned around to see the moon peeking up through the Stagecoach formation before it was lost in the clouds.  That was a pretty magical site.

I slowly made my way up to the top of the dunes and then along the ridge for a while.  The footprints were easy to follow and now there were plenty of flags also.  The moon reappeared from behind the clouds as I saw the Big Indian AS up ahead.  I jokingly yelled out for them to wake up.  A gal was actually sleeping inside by the heater, but Turd’l was outside waiting for me.  I had some more cola and some kind of food, but I don’t remember what.  I rushed out, wanting to finish.

Glancing down at my Garmin, I knew I would make it somewhere under 22 hours, but I pushed as much as I could for a strong finish.  I could smell the barn.  The trail seemed to go along through more of the typical desert terrain, between seas of sage.  Eventually, it led out onto narrow ridges of gravelly sandstone.  Luckily, the side were steep, but not dangerous, as I misjudged a sharp turn and slid a little ways off the side.  This section dumped me out onto a dirt road through some kind of an empty camping area.  Not far from the finish, I was now pushing myself to run it out.  It was a bit surreal as there were short light poles set on motion sensors that would individually flick on as I ran by.  Soon enough, I crossed the turn-off for Valley Drive and headed for the finish.  There was a runway of green Christmas lights making the right U-turn under the finish arch and I was done.

Leaning over to catch my breath from the finish “sprint”, I looked around and saw no one.  4:40 AM and not a single person was around.  Within a minute, Matt came running around the corner to congratulate me.  Then, a few others started popping out.  Lights came on, and I walked over to warm myself by one of the fires.  I then went to the car, got a towel and some clean clothes and hit the shower on the poop-mobile.  Matt got it going for me and boy did the hot water feel nice.  Unfortunately, as I took my socks off, I saw a disgustingly large blister on one of my toes that the toenail was now floating on top of - thank you, SAND.

After towelling off and stopping by the fire for a few more minutes, I headed off to the car for a couple of hours of sleep.  I think the 55K’ers were starting just as I woke up to a clear, chilly morning.  It was nice to be able to cheer them off, as well as the 25K’ers.

Pretty soon, I was interviewed by Roberta from the Navajo Nation Division of Natural Resources, ate some fresh fry bread and hopped back in the car for the long drive back home.

What a totally awesome experience.  Matt kept going on and on about how this race was even more amazing than Antelope Canyon and I didn’t quite believe him, but sure enough, he was right.  Antelope had some amazing sights, separated by a bunch of somewhat ho-hum desert.  Monument Valley was non-stop scenery.  I held back and only took about 250 pictures in the span of about 12 hours.  The terrain was quite diverse and the abundant SAND made it much tougher than the 6,500’ of elevation gain would suggest.

The only two things that could make this race any better are to; 1) get rid of all the SAND, 2) run it on a full moon.  Obviously the SAND is just par for the course in this part of the country.  It wouldn’t be a desert without all the SAND.  As far as the full moon - if this was UA’s only race, I would really push to reschedule it, but with 7 events in these incredible locations, trying to shift everything around and schedule the races around the lunar cycle would be impossible.

As I mentioned at the start, this is absolutely the must-do, bucket-list race!  Prepare yourself for the SAND and enjoy the most incredible scenery that mother earth has to offer.

Slideshow Video

Garmin File

Predicted and actual splits

Antelope Canyon 100

With an almost 10 hour drive ahead of me, I decided to split it up and go half-way Thursday evening, right after work.  This way, I would also have extra time to hit at least one of Matt’s trifecta challenges on Friday.  So when the clock hit 5:00, I jumped in the car (which was very fully loaded) and hit the road.  The drive was pretty boring, other than having to stop twice to pee (shouldn’t have drunk so much tea in the afternoon).  I planned on making out to the Moab exit on I-70.  I checked it out on Google Earth and there’s a gas station right at the exit with a large dirt area that’s clearly used by truckers.  Despite the bathroom breaks, I got there right at 10:00.  I drove to the far western end of the dirt field, set up my sleeping gear in the back of the Subaru and turned in for the night.

Being a bit off off the highway, the distant headlights were occasionally visible, but not enough to be bothersome.  After a few hours, my undersized bladder woke me.  At the time, I noticed that there was a police car at the gas station a couple of hundred yards away. Not thinking much of it, I quickly went back to sleep.

A short bit later, at exactly 1:58 AM, I woke again and looked up to see some lights shining, which seemed closer and brighter than the far off highway traffic.  Just as I groggily sat up, I was greeted with “SHOW US YOUR HANDS! OPEN THE DOOR”  (Luckily, I had emptied my bladder recently, so I didn’t mess up my bedding)

I responded very clearly with “Doors are locked.  I need to reach for my keys”

“DO IT!”

I found the key fob, opened the rear passenger side door and was greeted by a police officer with a flashlight and shotgun pointed at me, while his partner was doing the same from the other side of the car.

“WHAT’S YOUR NAME? IS THIS YOUR CAR?”

“Adrian Stanciu, from Colorado. This is my car.”  Given the recent pot legalization in our state, I probably should have left that information out, but they had probably seen my plates anyway.  They never asked for ID as they were eager to continue their search, though they did suggest that I might not want to spend the rest of the night there.  Upon noticing the number of other police cars in the area, I quickly jumped into the front seat, put the key into the ignition and hit the road towards Moab.  As I passed under the I-70 overpass, I noticed that additional police cars were blocking off the on-ramps.  There must have been at least 10 cars!

On the wide-eyed, adrenaline fueled drive south on 191 towards Moab, another 10 police cars came flying up in ones and twos with lights blazing.  I didn’t know they had that many police cars in all of Utah.  Clearly, whoever they were looking for was guilty of more than just an unpaid parking ticket.

I got into Moab and looked around for a “safe” place to park and resume my sleep for a few more hours.  I pulled off onto one of the side street, just a block off the main drag and crawled into the back of the car, again.  The adrenaline was starting to wear off and soon enough I was asleep again.  I woke up around dawn and made a quick stop at the Golden Arches before resuming the drive.

Matt Gunn (Ultra Adventures’ race director) has set up this crazy Trifecta thing for every race. Basically, he picked out incredible destinations in the vicinity of the races and for each one that you do (and post a selfie with your race number) within 1 week prior to or after the event, you get 10% off the next race, up to 3 per race, and they can be accumulated, so if you’re serious, you could save some serious money.  As a UA ambassador I have committed to doing at least one per race.  Some of the locations are just not doable with my extremely tight schedule, but there were two that I could hit for Antelope Canyon.  The first, and easiest was Navajo National Monument, with less than a 10 mile drive out of the way, and a short ½ mile hike.  It was still chilly when I got there by mid-morning, and there were only 2 other vehicles present.  It’s a beautiful spot, but being so remote, in a state that is tightly packed national treasures, this one doesn’t get nearly as much visitation, especially in mid-February.

I packed on my selfie stick and three cameras as I headed on down the trail.  It’s a short, easy stroll along the top of the mesa, overlooking a beautiful valley.  From the viewpoint at the end of the trail, the vistas of the distant landscapes were beautiful, in addition to the cool cliff dwellings just on the other side of the valley.  I snapped a number of pictures and the requisite selfie.  I’m glad there were no there tourists around at that particular moment, as I would have appeared to be even more self centered than usual.

I drove on and got to the start area in Page right around noon.  After brief chats with some of the others gathered around, I headed off to attempt the Cable Trail, another one of Matt’s trifecta’s.  I was a bit concerned about this one.  First of all, it was supposed to be tricky to find.  Secondly, the trail description made it sound rather scary.  On the way, I stopped off at the Hoover Dam visitor Center and asked if they had any good maps or directions.  The older gentleman behind the volunteer desk did his best to discourage me from attempting something so dangerous.  Nothing was going to stop me now.

I found the general area, parked next to the only other car there, and headed out.  I soon saw two ladies finishing up their lunch.  Turns out they were also runners and were about to attempt to find the Cables.  The three of us headed off together and eventually made our way to the edge of the plateau, overlooking the mighty Colorado River.  We peered over the sheer, vertical edge, and gulped, wondering how the heck anyone would get down that without a wing suit.  We decided that we must have come out to far down canyon, so we made our way north along the rim.  After a while, my companions decided to give up, but I was determined to find it.  A few minutes after parting, I saw the cable posts part way down, marked with pink flagging (which Matt had placed to help us find it).  Unfortunately the ladies were out of range for me to call back, so I continued on my own.

The top part of the route was pretty tame.  Beautiful, but in no way scary.  Part way down, there was 10’ drop through a narrow crack that would have been a bit tricky if someone hadn’t left a rope tied to one of the old cable posts.  This wasn’t a climbing rope.  Just a ⅜” white nylon rope you’d get from the hardware store, but it felt sturdy enough and the height was manageable.  It really just served as an easy and convenient hand-hold.

A bit further down, there was another, similar obstacle with a length of webbing as an aid.  A bit more scrambling and I came down to the actual cable section.  The two cables probably weren’t a hundred feet and the slope such that with a bit of care, the cables weren’t even necessary, but quite helpful.  I had packed work gloves as Matt had suggested, and wished they were thicker leather.  Most of the cables were in decent shape, but in a couple of spots, the outer strands frayed enough to provide some unwelcomed acupuncture to the palms.

I made it down to the river and wished that I could take a dip, but that would have required sliding, or jumping the last few feet into the water.  There probably was some better access, if I had explored a bit more, but I had been out way longer than anticipated and didn’t even bring a snack.  I took a bunch of pictures and marveled at beauty of the river and the surrounding sandstone walls.  Trifecta number 2 done.

It may seem a bit odd for a race director to give discounts like this.  Matt is obviously not making money off these side trips.  If anything, he’s losing it.  But honestly, I would have never done either one of the trifectas without Matt’s encouragement.  The Cable Trail was absolutely magnificent!  I would highly recommend it to anyone who can handle some moderate scrambling.

By the time I got back to the start area, there were many more people around.  I checked in and ordered myself a Navajo taco.  Good thing I was hungry.  The thing was larger than the plate.  Over the next couple of hours, I chatted with fellow runners and double checked my drop bags.  Matt gave a brief course overview right after dark.  The main thing I got out of it was SAND.  We were to expect 35 of the first 40 miles to be slogging through deep, soft, loose sand.

Although the camp fires were enticing, I soon crawled into the back of the car for some much needed sleep.  I was still a bit groggy from the 2 AM wake up call.  I slept better than I usually do the night before a big race, and in back of the car.  I got up at 5 despite all the previous day’s preparations, and years of experience, I barely made to the line for the 6 AM start.

It was chilly, probably only in the upper 30’s so I started out with a longsleeve shirt and gloves.  There was a bit of reluctance to be right at the front, but once we were off, everyone seemed to be in quite a hurry.  The 50 and 100 milers started together and as usual, too many runners were going out too fast.  I could tell by their heavy breathing.

We crossed the highway (the only time that traffic would be stopped at a road crossing) and headed up the sandstone side of a mesa.  I tried to take a picture of the trailing stream of headlights, but without a tripod, the results were unusable.  We made our way up, across the top, and down the other side of the mesa, then settled into some longer stretches of the SAND that we were warned about.  It wasn’t long before I could feel small mounds of the stuff piled underneath my toes, but it was too early to stop.

We eventually made our way into the first canyon, about 4 miles in.  Most of us stopped and took pictures throughout.  This canyon section would be cut short due to flood damage and a nesting owl - both legitimate reasons, so no one complained.  We popped back out, ran on more SAND, and dropped down to the Antelope Aid Station.  From here, the next 3 miles were along the bottom of Antelope Wash - very wide, and filled with more (you guessed it) SAND.  This was an out and back section and only part way through, the lead runners were already racing back.  I was shocked to see that the 2nd runner was a 100 miler.  This turned out to be Dallas, who would go on to build up a lead of over 2 hours on me, which I would whittle back down to under 50 minutes.

Upper Antelope Canyon was a long, narrow slit in the seemingly impenetrable wall that blocked our way. There’s a reason that this is one of the most photographed slot canyons in the entire world.  It was absolutely magnificent!  Tight, undulating sandstone walls.  The only downside was that we were in there shortly after sunrise, on a cloudy morning.  The sky wasn’t very bright, and therefore the canyon was rather dark, but wow was it cool. 

Everyone was taking pictures. The canyon itself is not very long and soon enough we were out the other side.  After climbing up more loose SAND, and a brief traverse, we dropped back down into another slot canyon, only slightly less magnificent than previous one and with a short ladder part way through.  This dumped us out into the wide wash that we followed back down to the aid station.  Part way back, the trucks of tourists were already driving in, full of wide-eyed, open-mouthed faces wondering why those fools were running in the deep SAND.

From Antelope aid, we continued to retrace our steps but where the trail dropped back down into the first slot canyon, many footprints continued straight.  I almost missed it myself, but only by a dozen feet.  After coming out the other side, the route turned back on itself a bit and I saw a number of runners along the top of the canyon.  I shouted over to them that they had missed the turn into canyon.  I don’t think it would have made a real difference distance wise, but seeing the canyon again would certainly have been worth it.  Back along the SAND roads across the open desert, we climbed back on to the mesa just outside of town.  At this point, I finally stopped to empty out the SAND from my shoes.  I was surprised that so little came out.  Unfortunately, even though it was now warm enough that I had dumped off my shirt at the Antelope Aid Station, my hands were stiff and useless.  Between the chill air and the fact that the cuffs of my thin gloves were cutting down on my already poor circulation, I couldn’t use my fingers.  I was frustrated by the minutes that I wasted getting my Dirty Girl gaitors back on.  Once I did, I finally hit the trail again and tried to console myself with the fact that there were still 85 miles to go.  Unfortunately, the time seemed to have been truly wasted as my shoes felt just as sand-filled as before the stop.

Somewhere on top of the mesa, we turned off of our original route and headed more westward toward the Slickrock aid station.  This section was pretty uninspiring, with a road crossing, and of course, more SAND.

From Slickrock, we climbed up through some SAND, and onto another mesa as the 50K leaders were coming back.  Down the other side, there was a long, straight road made of…  wait for it… SAND!  It was actually pretty decent running downhill in the stuff, but I was really dreading the thought of having to come back up in a few hours.

Down at the bottom was the Horseshoe Bend aid station.  This was the first one that was crew accessible, so there were a number of families around to cheer and support.  Amongst the usual aid station fare, they had some unusual, yet tasty treats made of layered peanut butter, jelly and rice.  From here, we crossed the paved road and went through a wire fence, which was nicely spread open and padded with foam.  Soon we were at what I think was the highlight among highlights for this race - Horseshoe Bend.  I had already been treated to some pretty spectacular views on the Cable Trail the previous day, but this was even better.  We ran for miles, only feet away from the edge of vertical sandstone cliffs that fell away to to the mighty Colorado River below.  I don’t know about the lead runners, but everyone around me took time to take pictures of the majestic scenery, themselves, and each other.  Race?  What race?  Yes, we still ran, but my camera was out more than in my pocket.

It was in this section that I was caught by Travis McWhorter, a fellow UA ambassador.  We chatted for a bit, but soon he ran off into the distance while I was still distracted by the views.  After a while, we turned away from the ridge, but came back to it within a couple of miles.  This was the longest stretch between aid stations and though the temperatures were only in the low 60’s with a thin cloud layer, I was glad I had taken along an extra bottle.

 

I ran a bit with Sabrina from Breckenridge and we chatted about her upcoming Leadville race.  We eventually made it to the Waterholes aid station where I was treated to the most delectable polenta with feta and red peppers. From the aid station, we quickly dropped down into Waterholes Canyon.  The descent was a little interesting with some short, steep, scrambling sections.  More pictures, another ladder, more surreal undulating sandstone.

  Once out the other side, we climbed up and ran for a while on more SAND roads, eventually making it back to the Horseshoe Bend aid station.  I sat down to do some foot maintenance here.  They actually had loads of wet towels for runners to clean off with and I took advantage.  Once I took off my shoes, I realized why the previous sand dumping didn’t have much of a beneficial effect.  The bulk of the sand wasn’t in my shoes.  It was inside my socks!  I couldn’t believe how much I poured out.  I could have used those things as sandbags for flood control.

I emptied out all the sand that I could, cleaned my feet with a wet towel, and slobbered on a whole bunch of vaseline.  I then grabbed a huge handful of dates and figs and hit the road.  This was the uphill SAND section that I was dreading slightly more than all the other SAND sections.  For some reason, it didn’t feel quite as bad as I thought it would.  Maybe because I was looking forward to soon being done with the SAND.  Soon enough, I made it back up to the top of the mesa, over, and down the other side.  At Slickrock, I reapplied sunscreen, grabbed a few cupfuls of electrolyte gummie bears, and a couple of salt caps.  Then off I went through the last stretch of SAND.

I crossed the paved road near the parking area at the start and was slightly confused by the flagging but there was a gal in a pickup truck there to direct me.  Up the mesa I went as other (shorter distance) runners were coming down.  There was a short scramble to reach the top and then onto a gravel road for a few hundred yards to the Page Rim aid station where I reloaded pretty quickly and hit the trail.

Wow, what a nice trail to run on - firm single-track, mostly level.  It felt like I was flying!  I looked down at my watch as my average pace kept dropping.  After the first few miles, I reeled it in a bit.  As good as I felt, and as much as I was enjoying the lack of SAND, there were still almost 60 miles to go.

The views from the Page Ridge Trail were nice, including the blue waters of Lake Powell.  It wasn’t quite as spectacular as the morning’s scenery, but the solid footing certainly made up for it.  A short sandy climb (not as loose as earlier in the day) led us up the out-and-back to the Lake Powell aid station.  Once done, the short descent led us back to the continuation of the Rim Trail.  Within a half mile, the trail truly earned its name.  For the next quarter mile or so, the narrow trail was literally on the edge.  While there was no sheer vertical drop like above the Colorado River, the slope was steep enough to be deadly.  Along the Horseshoe Bend section, there was plenty of room to steer away from the edge, and if you did fall, there would be a long pleasant flight before the life ending impact.  Here, the slope was such that your body would have been grated away on the sandstone, leaving behind a long red swath that lead to a small splotch of remains a few hundred feet below.  There were a couple of spots in particular where the trail hugged some mid-sized boulders where there was no room for error.  I was already thinking ahead to what it would be like to run this section in the dark.  Not seeing below might be nice, as long as the fatigue didn’t make me any more prone to tripping.  “Just fall to the left”.

After a few miles, the trail led through more populated parts of town.  We crossed a few paved roads where we had to stop and wait briefly for a break in the cars.  And we even meandered along the golf course.  ALong this section, I got passed by a 100 miler and his pacer.  I knew the answer, but asked anyway - “what lap are you on?”

“Second” came the reply from his pacer.  This was Dallas, the lead 100 miler who was on the tail of the lead 50 miler right after the Antelope Canyon turn around.  He now had a lead of 10+ miles and more than 2 hours on me.  I had 50 miles to go, he had 40, but he was looking strong and I had no idea how many more runners were between us.  Off they went and I made a conscious effort not to try and chase.

Nearing the Page Rim aid station, I got caught by a female runner.  I turned to ask her what distance she was running when I saw the pink bib, so instead I asked what lap she was on, again already knowing the answer.  She also, was on her second lap.  This was deflating.  Not because she was a woman, but just being lapped by two runners.  There was no way I could make up that kind of time/distance.

I pulled into Page Rim and emptied out my shoes and socks for the final time.  The race was almost half over and only a bit over 10 hours.  That time was excellent time, but the SANDy parts earlier had taken their toll on my body and I didn’t think the second half would be as fast, despite the better running conditions.

There was a slight breeze, so I finally pulled on a shirt and set out on my 2nd lap, trying to calculate the sunset, and deciding to chance going around one more time without a light.

On my 2nd visit to Lake Powell aid, I discovered the most delicious cheese quesadillas.  I probably ate too many, but they were so good.  I did this same thing at Coldwater.  I made it back to Page Rim aid in about the same time as the previous lap.  That was promising, but it would be difficult to maintain.  This time, I grabbed my flashlight but kept the camera, hoping to catch some nice sunset colors.  Unfortunately, the sun was setting on the opposite side of the Page mesa, so the camera never came out again.

With the combination of distances, it was impossible to tell where I was in the field, though no more runners passed me.  Part way through my 3rd lap, I caught Dallas and his pacer.  This was a good sign, but he still had too big of a lead.  Part way through my 4th lap, he was only a few minutes behind, but coming past the deadly drop-off section again, I caught up to a female runner and her pacer.  I soon caught a glimpse of yellow underneath her long-sleeve top and realized it was Janessa, the gal who had lapped me earlier.  She was now in the lead with just a bit more than 1 lap to go.  I could tell she was really pushing herself and was quite nervous about Dallas catching back up.  Nearing the end of the loop, she stubbed her toe pretty bad and needed comforting from her pacer.

I slowed a bit on the 5th loop, but not too bad.  I was startin to calculate my potential finish time, which it typically not a good thing.  If it slips away, it feels like an additional defeat.  21 hours just wasn’t going to happen.  22 hours was attainable, if I could keep things up.  I knew I could walk much of the way and break 23, which was my main goal, so I took comfort in that and pressed on.

Lap 5 done, I asked the volunteers at Page Rim aid where I stood.  “3rd place”  What?  Holy cow!  Janessa was not far behind, but on her final loop.  I didn’t know where Dallas was, but unless he quit, there would be no way for me to catch him.  Apparently, there was no one else between us.  Inside the warm tent, I looked around at the food choices until my eyes settled on half of a chocolate covered crowler donut.  Before it was fully down my throat, I grabbed half of a large cinnamon bun and ran out, soon wishing I had taken the whole thing.

I started the final lap on a high note, but knew better than to celebrate.  I was tired, I couldn’t completely trust the 3rd place declaration, and I wanted to keep my time as low as possible to get a high UltraSignUp percentage.  This was a smart strategy, because about 6 miles through the last lap I passed another runner who said he was also on his last lap.  Drake was apparently the actual 3rd place guy at the time.  I’m sure he wasn’t thrilled when I passed him, but despite all the scenery and camaraderie, this was ultimately a race.  I never stopped looking back over those last 4 miles.

Eventually, I made it back to Page Rim for the final time and turned right to drop off the mesa.  The wind had really picked up over the last lap and now there were more consistent drops in the air.  As I trudged through the last few hundred feet of SAND, I saw the elevated walkway that led through the rocks and dumped out onto the finish line. 21:37:50 and 3rd place overall, 2nd male!  Not bad, given that UltraSignUp had me at 12th overall and 7th male.

The finish area was pretty subdued given that it was just past 3:30 AM.  I made my way to the blazing fire and a blanket was thrown over my shoulders.  I didn’t want to get too comfortable yet.  I went to the car, grabbed some clothes and a towel and made my way to the poopmobile.  This requires some explanation.  Matt has this trailer that’s equipped with compostable toilets,a wood fired hot tub and a SHOWER!  That’s what I wanted, to rinse away the grime and sand from the past 102 miles before I tried to get a few hours of sleep.

Man did that hot shower feel good.  After drying off and putting on some fresh, clean clothes, I decide to go straight to sleep.

I slowly woke up around 7:30 to the sound of a light, but steady rain.  I immediately thought of all the runners out on the course.  There were probably fewer than 20 left, but they would have been miserable if it had been raining since I had finished.

As it turns out, the drizzle that I finished in did turn into a light, steady rain, mixed with snow.  The temps stayed above freezing, but 36 and raining towards the end of a hundred miler is not pleasant.  I felt for everyone out there and knew some would drop due to the conditions.

When I did finally step out of the car, I was amazed.  The ground underneath my feet felt solid.  The rain soaked sand was firm!  Boy, that would have been nice in the first 40 miles.

I made my way over to the fire and chatted with Matt and a few others for a bit. Apparently, there was a steady stream of finishers after me, separated by 10 to 20 minutes, but still another 15 out on the course.  As tempting as it was to just hang out with everyone and cheer additional finishers, I still had to drive all the way back to Colorado and I knew the weather would make it even longer.

I grabbed my 2nd Place Male tomahawk and belt buckle, thanked Matt yet again and drove off.  I made a quick stop my the Page Rim and Lake Powell aid stations to gather my drop bags and headed towards home.

Wrap Up

If you’re looking for a fast or easy race, this isn’t it.  You have to deal with 35 of the first 40 miles being deep, soft, loose SAND, unless the weather gods take pity on you and it rains the previous day.  As a reward for dealing with the SAND, you run through 4 magnificent slot canyons.  As great as those were, my favorite part was still the Horseshoe Bend section - absolutely surreal.  Afterwards, you get to race for 60 miles along a pleasant and very runnable trail.  This final section, though somewhat repetitive, is also comforting since much of it is run in the dark.  For any who don’t like the repetitiveness at the end, the 50 miles option gives you all of the same terrain and views, with only a single finishing lap.

The race was superbly managed.  The start/finish line was a warm and welcoming place to hang out.  The volunteers were great.  The food at the aid stations was awesome.  As mentioned, in addition to all the usual and necessary snacks, they had a bunch of unique treats.

As a final note, DO NOT RUN THIS RACE WITHOUT A CAMERA!  Take your time to enjoy and photograph the sites, then race the last 60 miles.  This is absolutely a must-do 50 or 100 mile race!

Slideshow Video

Garmin File
Predicted & Actual Splits