I have crazy friends. Mostly because like minded people seek out like minded people and crazy = fun! Some of these crazy friends convinced me to sign up for a 55k this summer called Beaverhead. It is on the Idaho-Montana border, much of it on the Continental Divide trail, and looks gorgeous! However, it is also at 10,000 feet, contains a 3+ mile scree field across a ridge starting around mile 23 which is then followed by a very steep descent down a game trail. I am neither a fan of heights nor steep downhills, yet somehow my friends talked me into this. They are convincing, particularly when I am under the influence of endorphins. But this post is not about Beaverhead. This is about Scout Mountain, a 21 mile trail race I did as part of my training for Beaverhead.
Scout Mountain is a trail race in early June in eastern Idaho near Pocatello. Like Beaverhead, it involves about 5000 feet of climbing and descent, but without the scree, the altitude and the steep downhill. Sold.
The first several miles were awesome. Steady uphill, beautiful wildflowers, perfect spring weather – I love trail running!
The aid stations were awesome too. The volunteers were the kindest and most helpful volunteers you will find at any race. If you are within 50 feet of the aid station they are running up to help you. “Can I fill up your pack with water? Tailwind? What do you need?” And these people are out in the middle of nowhere for hours supporting runners. Superheros. Then there’s the food. It’s like trick-or-treating. Gatorade and GU doesn’t cut it. Here we’ve got candy, chips, cookies, fruit, fig bars at an all you can eat buffet! Who knew this was the race fuel I needed! But afraid to break the cardinal rule of not trying anything new on race day, I just refilled with tailwind, grabbed a fig bar and headed out.
As we climbed above 7500 feet I could definitely notice the thinner air. Running took more effort and power hiking was more comfortable to me. At that point I wondered if the 10,000 feet at Beaverhead would be a problem.
Just over the summit is where my problems started. First, there was this snow/ice patch to slide down. Wait, what? This race involves sliding down ICE? I didn’t sign up for this! But ok, here we go!
I made the mistake of putting my hands down to slow the slide. Bad idea. If you find yourself in this situation DO NOT USE YOUR HANDS TO SLOW YOURSELF DOWN. They will burn. And they will burn for awhile. Consider yourself warned. Also, the Oiselle Long Roga shorts held up remarkably well on the ice patch. They have endured both this and multiple falls without any sign of wear or tear. But I digress.
After the summit, there was a STEEP descent. We lost about 1,000 feet on the first mile alone down a technical trail full of loose rock. WHAT?! Nobody warned me about this! Had I known, I might have carried poles. It sucked. I passed lots of people going up. But on the way down, all of those people, their parents, grandparents, dogs, and three-legged cats all passed me. It was not fun. I did not like trail running anymore. I was tripping over rocks constantly and cursing their existence. “Are all trail races like this?,” I thought. “I’m not coordinated enough to do them.”
At one point, a nice woman ran up behind me saying “oh do your knees hurt like mine do?” I thought, “oh, great. I am running like my knees hurt? It’s obvious to people? I thought this was just between me and my knees. I didn’t know I was broadcasting it.” How much more of this? Around mile 12 I tripped, landing hard on my knee, elbow and shoulder. I was actually surprised that this was the only time I fell during the race.
The last several miles of the race were on grass. Although grass is hard to run on, I was so happy to not be on rock anymore. And I was even more thrilled to come upon this sign:
My first thought upon finishing was “F* another 13 miles of that!” My friend who also did this race later said to me (not knowing that this was my first trail race), “That was hard. If I had done that as my first trail race, I might never do another one again!” I was so glad she said that because it validated my feelings and gave me hope that maybe I can still run in beautiful places like this.
My knees were trashed after this race and I was mentally burned out for awhile. I ended up not doing Beaverhead, but had a good training cycle and a great time running on the trails in the Boise Foothills this spring with my friends. I probably would do this race again – it’s so beautiful and extremely well run – but I need to learn how to properly run down technical downhills.