Finger Lakes 50s 25K - July 5, 2025

 Short is Good

Having done the Finger Lakes 50s 50K in 2023 (report here), 2022 (report here), and 2007, I don't feel the need to see more than one loop of the 16.5 mile course.  It isn't easy, and frankly, I'm not as young as I used to be. (That's extraordinarily trite, as no one alive is as young as they used to be a second ago.) Ok, I'm a lot older than almost everyone else in the event.

Vintage shirt

Sometimes You Are Not What You Think You Are

I'm wearing my vintage 2007 FL50s shirt which garners lots of comments and  inquiries - except from one runner who recognizes it.  We are running together on the early part of the course.  He looks older than me and he is. James is 76 and tells me he has run all five versions of the FL50s course going back to the 1998 50-miler.  After a bit I go on ahead.  Later in the day I see him at the finish. He dropped out about mid-way and made it back to the finish to hang out.  His dropping allows me the honor (?) of being the oldest finisher.

An Overactive Mind

Walking to the start of the 25K, I fall in with Race Director Adam. After being assured that there will be separate AG awards for the 70+ category we talk about possible fun awards. I suggest a few.  But I have the rest of the day to consider the question, and so I do, the result of which is that my mind is raging torrent of rivulets of thought cascading into a waterfall of creative alternatives. Several days later I send him an email enumerating several of the ideas. Some may be easy to calculate, others too bothersome:

• DFL
• Oldest FL50s shirt
• Fastest virgin (someone who has never run a 25K/50K/50M before)
• Oldest finisher
• Youngest finisher
• Grizzled veteran (finisher who has run most FL50s)
• Top of the hour finishers (runners who finish at the top of the hour, e.g., 4:00, 5:00, etc. Person closest to the top wins, i.e., 5:00:04 beats 5:00:17, 4:59:59 is too early to qualify.)
• Fate-tempter (fastest person wearing the race shirt on race day)  
• Awards for 5-, 10-, etc. year finishers. 

I suggest that awards be made of Finger Lakes Forest shale or wood.

Along Burnt Hill Trail, about mile 1.5.

I'm using trekking poles as part of the course can be rocky and rooty, and in some places, steep.  While the poles can slow me down on flat parts of the course, I'm not in a hurry, so losing some time is a fair trade-off for stability insurance on more challenging parts of the course.

The weather is warm but not overly so and there is no precipitation.  The course is mostly dry, although some rain in the preceding days have left some mud puddles, one of which nearly sucks a shoe off.

The course is generally downhill to the Morgue Aid Station (mile 3.5) at the end of the course's route on the unpaved Mark Smith Road. It then turns right onto the Gorge Trail, and switches between the Interlocken and South Slope Trail. Paying attention to the course markings through here is important as the course doubles back on itself at one point.

South Burnt Hill Pond (mile 5)

We visit the South Beach AS twice, outbound at mile 4.7 and inbound at mile 7.5. As usual, the volunteers at the aid stations are friendly and accommodating.

The view to the western side of Seneca Lake

From there it is about 3 miles up the Interlocken Trail. Crossing the pasture north of Mathews Road provides scenic views of the west side on Seneca Lake, and a rare chance to get a cell phone signal. 

Day Lilies by the Backbone Trail

A turn onto the Ravine Trail to the Library AS (mile 10.4) at Burnt Hill Road. (No books at the library, near as I could ascertain.)Then down the short, but very steep trail, followed by an up to unshaded Picnic Area Road.  It is a short stretch, but uphill and, for me, never pleasant. A left puts the course on the generally straight, due north and uphill Backbone Trail for another two miles to the Outback AS (mile 13.7).

Don't Let the Cows Out Get You

The aid station workers point out that the cows have come up the pasture to near the trail through the pasture.  That's neat I think, as we have not seen any in the earlier pastures. A 50K runner laps me at the aid station and goes on.  

I open the gate and head across. The herd seems to take an interest in me that it hadn't in the previous runner.  I'm not a farm guy but even my dim knowledge of farm animals recognizes that the very large animal in the middle is no cow - he is a bull. And the animals around him are not cows. They may be heifers for him to impregnate, or . . . I dunno, but they don't have udders, so not cows.

And for some reason they take an interest in me and start to follow.  Having four legs to my two, and being younger and fitter than I, they are quickly overtaking me. "Great," I think, "I'm about to be killed by a stampede." Since this is 2025 I do what any person in that situation would do - I take out my phone and try to get a video of them coming after me.  But I hit the photo button rather than the video button and since I'm blindly trying to get a shot behind me while I watch the footing ahead, all I get is a blurr picture of legs. 

Critters purse me. Bull does not.

Before I reach the gate on the far side they begin to lose interest in me.  One or two watch when I close it to make sure it is closed.   In a hundred yards or so a trail biker comes toward me and I warn him of what is ahead.

Foster Pond (mile 15.5)

Now it is just a matter of pushing on the mix of boardwalks, rooty trails and smooth trails to the finish.  Glancing at my watch I think I have a chance of finishing under five hours, but I miss by eight seconds.

The finish line workers give me the finisher's towel, soaked in cold water to cool off.  I collect my ceramic cup AG award and get an Athletic non-alcoholic beer before walking to the very dust car to head home. 

Results

I finish in 5:00:08, good for 97 of 105 overall, 42 of 44 males and 1 of 1 in my age group.  I'm six years older than the next oldest finisher in the 25K. (In fairness a 75YO finishes the 50K at a pace faster than my 25K pace.)

Swag: Towel, shirt, glass (purchased), AG ceramic mug, bib.

AG award.

Grand Canyon Rim-to-Rim - May 31, 2025

In the Grand Canyon - May 31, 2025

Return to the Grand Canyon

Two years ago I planned to go rim-to-rim (R2R) in the Grand Canyon but a severe winter damaged the trans-canyon pipeline and North Kaibab trail necessitating scrapping those plans.  We went rim-to-river (South Kaibab Trail-Phantom Ranch-Bright Angel Trail) but my desire to go R2R remained.

Because of the difficulties in getting accommodations at the Grand Canyon, especially on the North Rim, planning must begin early.  When I learn in May 2024 that Cathy plans to put together a R2R effort in May or June 2025 with her East Valley Runners group, I express interest. Getting the welcome to join, planning begins.

I invite daughter Hilary and friend Jennifer and both agree to the adventure. Hilary sees it as a chance to do something special with me (perhaps the last of epic adventures).  Jennifer has not been to the Grand Canyon and as she was planning to go to Bryce and Zion with her friend, this is an opportunity to make it even better.

My wife Sandy is also coming along, and has agreed to be a sherpa and drive the four hours and 220 from the south rim to the north rim.

Planning

My initial plan is to go from the North Rim down North Kaibab Trail and cross the silver bridge to go up Bright Angel Trail on Sunday, . This has several advantages. The North Rim is 1000 feet higher than the South Rim, so it will be 5000 feet of descent followed by 4000 feet of ascent. Second, Bright Angel Trail has four places to access water.

Cathy and some of her folks are considering going south to north to south rim-to-rim-to-rim on May 31 - June 1 with an overnight on the North Rim, so we will be able to join them for their return.

Lodging accomodations can be difficult to acquire, especially on the North Rim, so I make a variety of reservations for both the North and South Rim months in advance.  They require payment of a night's lodging in advance but are fully refundable up to about 72 hours in advance of arrival.  At one time I may have had as many as five or six rooms reserved on various dates, just in case.

No Plan Survives First Contact with the Enemy

And the just in case is justified.  In early 2025, the National Park Serivce announces that due to construction of the trans-canyon waterline, the silver bridge and the River Trail are scheduled to be closed when we are there.  There are three alternatives for a R2R.  

The first is to go South Kaibab trail to North Kaibab trail, reversing the direction we planned on and adding 1000 of elevation gain.  The second is to go in the opposite direction, but that means the last seven miles up South Kaibab will be in the sun and with no access to water.  The third is to go North Kaibab, then three miles up South Kaibab to Tonto Trail, four relatively flat miles to Bright Angel Trail, and then four miles up Bright Angel to the South Rim.  It's longer, but it does provide access to water.

A discussion with Cathy settles it: we will go South Kaibab to North Kaibab on Saturday, May 31.

Panic

On May 19 NPS puts out a press release about a 74-year old experienced hiker who died a half mile from the North Rim while doing a R2R on May 15.  This strikes me hard, as that description fits me. And the temperature that day at Phantom Ranch, at the bottom of the canyon, had a high of only 75 degrees.

I'm rattled. Temperature forecasts for Phantom Ranch are for very high 90s and every day are revised upwards. I want to do R2R but I also don't want to appear in an NPS press release.

The week before our scheduled crossing I start emailing Cathy of my concerns. Half joking, I write "If I  die in the canyon I prefer that my body be removed slung over the back of a mule rather than lifted out by helicopter." Her response is a bit of tough love: "Do us all a favor and don't keel over, please." I respond that "I'll try to remain upright and moving for[ward] under my own power." 

But I can't get it out of my head. On Wednesday, May 28, I write another email apologizing "for sounding like a whiny baby" but spewing out my concerns as the temperature forecast is now for 108 degrees at Phantom Ranch. Wisely, she ignores me.

We fly to Las Vegas on May 29.  I confide my concerns to Hilary and suggest that maybe I should simply do South Kaibab to Tonto Trail and then up Bright Angel and back to the South Rim while she goes rim-to-rim. I am told in no uncertain terms that she had come out to do rim-to-rim with me and that I was going to do it.

Preparation

On Friday, May 30, we drive from Las Vegas to the South Rim, with a stop in Williams for lunch and then another stop to buy last minute snacks, supplies and breakfast food for the next morning.

We check into Maswik Lodge, and head over to El Tovar to have dinner with Cathy, her husband (and sherpa) Jim and with Tracey, who is also going R2R.  Cathy provides additional reassurance for me, and after dinner we view the Grand Canyon and then go back to our rooms to prepare for our 5 a.m. start.

South Kaibab Trailhead - Me, Jennifer, Hilary

At 4 a.m. Hilary calls. She is at the car and ready to put her suitcase in it.  I had hoped for an additional 15 minutes of sleep, but that is not to be.  I pack my suitcase, put it in the car and bid goodbye to Sandy, who will have to drive the 210 miles from the South Rim to the North Rim.

Heading Down

We meet up with Cathy and her East Valley Runners crew and Jennifer with her companion at the wheel for the drive to the drop-off near the South Kaibab trailhead (mile 0, 7260 feet elevation, 5:07 a.m.).  The weather is temperate, unlike two years ago when it was cool starting out.  I take that as a bad omen of heat to come. Tracey helps me figure out how to get my heartrate to display on my Garmin.  After everyone has a chance to use the facilities, adjust their poles and gear we head down at 5:07 a.m.

The East Valley folks are quickly gone - we see them disappearing down the switchbacks as Hilary, Jennifer and I start down.  I've determined to just hike it rather than do any running at all.  Hilary hugs the wall-side of the trail for the first five minutes until she gets comfortable knowing that she isn't about to plunge over the other side of the trail. 

Jennifer and Hilary with O'Neill Butte ahead

In less than a mile we arrive at Ooh-ah Point (mile 0.9, 6660 feet, 5:30 a.m.) 800 feet lower than the rim. The sun is rising and we take pictures before resuming our descent.

As we descend, Jennifer, an avid gardener, uses an app on her phone to identify plants along the trail.

Jennifer IDs plants on South Kaibab

My rim-to-river experience two years ago has taught me that poles are as important, maybe even more so, on the way down than on the way up, and I am using from the first step. Nevertheless, I get a bit wobbly on the way down.  It isn't a problem when I'm moving, but when I stop I sway and on a couple of occasions, slowly and gently wind up sitting on the ground or leaning against a rock wall.

Hilary has lost whatever fear she initially had, and tends to go ahead and then wait for Jennifer and I to catch up. I obsess over my heart rate, and check it frequently to make sure it stays below 150 bpm.

We chat with a couple on the way up. They have been progressing slowly, aware that South Kaibab offers no shade and no water.

Mule train headed up South Kaibab

By the time we get to the Tipoff (mile 4.6, 4015 feet, 8:20 a.m.) the day has become hot and we sit in the shelter there, being alert to the aggressive squirrels who are more than willing to try to sneak a swipe at packs in hopes of grabbing someone's food or snacks.

Hilary heads off ahead of us and we see her gradually pulling away.  We won't see her again until Phantom Ranch.

Jennifer and I enjoy our views of the Colorado, green and far below as we trek along in no hurry.  A mule train of nine mules and two wranglers passes us headed up. 

Not too far from the last switchbacks to the Black Bridge, we come across a woman sitting with her two young adult daughters.  They are headed up, but the woman is not feeling particularly well and the day is going to get hotter on an exposed trail with no water for either drinking or cooling off.  We discuss her options with them - go slowly, rest wherever there is shade, wait at the Tipoff shelter until the day cools down. Maybe then take Tonto Trail to Havasupai Gardens. Longer overall, but less strenuous and gets one to water. Or turnaround and go back to Phantom Ranch. No one wants a helicopter ride out of the canyon. Choose poorly and your health or life may be the price 

Sitting in the tunnel to the Black Bridge

Finally we reach the tunnel to the Black Bridge and head across.  Midway I say "How y'all doin'," to  four men heading in the opposite direction. "You from Louisiana?," they ask.

I'm not but they are, and are on a raft trip down the canyon which has put in at the beach.  We chat with them for several minutes and then proceed to the north side of the canyon.  I walk on while Jennifer takes time to view the remains of Native American structures along the river.  I pass a ranger by a misting station warning hikers of the dangers of heading up South Kaibab (it's now about 11 a.m.) and checking to be sure they are prepared with sufficient water.

Phantom Ranch

We reach Phantom Ranch (mile 7.5, 2460 feet, 10:40 a.m.) where Hilary greets us. She had caught up with Cathy and her friends, but by the time we arrive, they are long gone. We go inside, get lemonade, and sit to cool off and have a snack.  I keep glancing at my heart rate, but it stubbornly refuses to drop below 100 bpm (my normal resting pulse is about 60-62).  We mail our pre-addressed, pre-stamped, and for me, pre-written, postcards so they can be carried out by mule.  We top up our fluids, wet ourselves down, and start up North Kaibab Trail - during the time of day (10 a.m. - 4 p.m.) the Park Service recommends that one not hike. Especially on a day when the high at Phantom Ranch will hit 107.

But we think we are prepared so we go.

Leaving Phantom Ranch

The Box to Cottonwood Campground

The hike through the narrow canyon known as the Box isn't strenuous in itself in that it only gains abut 1300 feet of elevation over the 7.2 miles from Phantom Ranch to Ribbon Falls.  But the narrow part of the canyon reflects and retains heat as you follow the course of Bright Angel Creek.  We take opportunities to sit in the shade on the way. Hilary remarks on the remaining posts of the Trans-Canyon Telephone line that follow our path.

After a bit the canyon widens out and we are hiking a shade-less trail.  We spy water on the trail and realize that the Transcanyon pipeline, which runs under the trail is leaking. It is an opportunity to wet ourselves down with the cold water, a process made easier by Jennifer's foresight of bringing a couple of the empty lemonade cups from Phantom Ranch.  A little bit further there is a small streamlet crossing the trail and we repeat the opportunity to wet down.

When we arrive at the intersection of the path to Ribbon Falls, (mile 13) Jennifer and Hilary defer to me whether to continue on or take the detour.  As much as I'd like to I decide that we are pretty far behind time and should press on, so we stay on North Kaibab Trail and go up Asinine Hill (probably called that because choosing to go that way rather than to Ribbon Falls is an asinine decision).  In hindsight, it's a decision that I regret.

We arrive at Cottonwood Campground (mile 14.5) at about 4 p.m.  No hurry for us, we sit, drink, nibble a snack or a gel, and use the facilities. The volunteer there talks with someone leading a hiking group about someone in his group who is having problem. The volunteer suggests that perhaps the person should sit out the night on the porch of the ranger station.

Sign at Manzanita

 Cottonwood to Manzanita

We leave Cottonwood and continue on.  Clouds start to drift across the sky and we root for them to block the sun.  Finally some do, and we get relief from the rays of the sun. We gain another 600 feet of elevation in the 1.5 miles to Manzanita (mile 16). Jennifer goes and soaks in Bright Angel Creek.  Hilary and I wet down from the water spigot. All of us top up our water, as this is the last opportunity to do so (the water at Supai Tunnel is off.)

Manzanita to the North Rim

Now the climbing begins.  Manzanita is at 4600 feet but the North Rim trailhead is 8240 feet.  We will have to climb 3640 feet over the next 5.4 miles.  In comparison, we have ascended only 2120 feet since leaving the Colorado River 8.6 miles ago. 

Fortunately the altitude, the clouds and the shadows from the lateness of the day - 5 p.m. is approaching, are all contributing to a cooler temperature. I notice that my heart rate drops nearly 10 bpm once we were out of the sun.

North Kaibab past Manzanita Rest

The sight of water gushing out of Roaring Springs on the other side of the creek is remarkable.  That is the water source for the North and South Rim developments and Phantom Ranch. 

But we are slowing down.  Jennifer starts to feel a bit ill from an infection she picked up on the flight west.  I'm feeling tired and developing cramps.  Hilary has to deal with the two of us slogging along and calling for increasingly more rest stops.

Looking back to the Redwall Bridge

We get to the Redwall Bridge (mile 18.5, 6000 feet, about 6:45 p.m) and stop and chat with an older couple.  They are headed up and ask us to tell the person who is meeting them that they are fine.

As we go along we try to see if we can get cell reception to tell our families of our progress. Occasionally Jennifer can receive messages, but sending is a failure.  I had made dinner reservations for 8 p.m. at the Grand Canyon Lodge but it is clear that we will not be making it.

We pass thru Supai Tunnel (mile 19.5, 6800 feet, 7:30 p.m.). Another hiker points out some Steller's jays. Upward we go as the light starts to fade.

Here a decision I made days ago come back to haunt me.  I knew from my rim-to-river two years ago that I would not need a headlamp at the start.  I figured that we would easily be done in 13 hours, or by 6 p.m., so there was no need to bring lights.  Now that faulty decision was coming to haunt us.

Fortunately Jennifer had a flashlight and Hilary had a light too. If need be, I could use the light on my phone. But staying with Jennifer, I can navigate with her light.

After Supai Tunnel Hilary pushes on while Jennifer and I continue up the steep switchbacks.  We see a light above and surmise that it is Hilary waiting for us at the Coconino Overlook. That proves correct when we get there (mile 20.5, 7730 feet, 8:16 p.m.).

More switchbacks follow for the final ascent, but that also means I sit down again to rest.  Hilary, who is a bit ahead, comes back, and says we need to keep going as it is getting dark and colder.  I tell her that a rest is more important to me.  Having been held back by my pace and believing I didn't do enough core and strength training, while at the same time nagging her about her lack of trail and time-on-feet training, she expresses her frustration.  At the top of her lungs. In salty language. Then she turns around and heads up the trail at a pace fueled by frustration and anger.

Jennifer and I get to our feet and continue our slow pace upward.  The sight of aspens perks me up, as Cathy had told us they only grow above 8000 feet, and when they are sighted, you are close to done.

We meet someone headed down to meet another hiker, and then Jennifer's companion appears to greet her.

North Rim

I top out and stop my watch by the iconic North Kaibab Trailhead sign (mile 22.2, 8241 feet, 8:45 p.m.). It's dark and it takes a couple of minutes to locate the rental car driven 210 miles from the South Rim to meet us. Hilary is in the car with Sandy, waiting for my arrival.

We have missed our dinner reservations at the Lodge, but we get pizza and beer in the adjacent Saloon just before it closes.

The view from Grand Canyon Lodge

Epilogue

We have breakfast in the Grand Canyon Lodge the next morning and admire the view of the canyon from the lodge's porch.  Jennifer and her companion head to Page to visit the slot canyons.  Hilary get a ride to Phoenix Airport with one of the East Valley Runners. Sandy and I leave around noon to head to Bluff UT, the Valley of the Gods, Four Corners and Santa Fe.

About 6 p.m. on June 1 the power fails on the North Rim and the facilities are closed for several days.

Lightning ignites the Dragon Bravo Fire on July 4. By the time it is finished it has burned 145,504 acres. It becomes the seventh largest wildfire in Arizona history, and on July 13 it destroyed the Grand Canyon Lodge and many other structures on the North Rim. It burned down North Kaibab Trail to Supai Tunnel. One fiefighter died of a heart attack. As I write this (September 22) it is unknown when the North Rim or the North Kaibab Trail will reopen.

Dirty German 50K - May 10, 2025

Emaad and Leigh Ann at the start

A non-linear collection of vignettes from Uberendurance Sports Dirty German 50K in Philadelphia. The course was dry and the weather pretty well perfect, albeit a bit warm.  I was able to keep up with Emaad and Leigh Ann for a few miles before their youth and enthusiasm took them away.

Dislocated Shoulder

About mile 19 (about 3 miles into the second of the two 16-mile loops) I come upon a pair of runners.  One is walking very slowly and is clearly in a lot of pain and holding one arm with the other.  I ask if there is anything I can do for him but he replies that he has dislocated his shoulder from a fall. I offer sympathy and ibuprofen. He accepts the former and declines the latter and I go on.

In a short while I spot someone heading in the opposite direction.  He says he is looking for a runner who was reported to be injured and I give him an estimate of how far he has to go. Next is a woman, also headed that way.  She is the runners wife and I provide an update of how far she has to go.  Finally, Race Director Stephan is spotted headed to render assistance.  Later I hear that an ambulance met the runner at where the course comes out at Krewstown Road to render first aid and transport him to a medical facility.

Gravity never takes a holiday.

View from the course.

How Fast Do You Run is the Wrong Question

Someplace around mile 22, on a flat stretch of trail parallel to Pennypack Creek, I overtake Rich, who is walking.  I slow down, greet him, and we begin to converse.  This is his second attempt at an ultra, and I assure him that he won't have any problem finishing this one.  We talk about the difference between trail and road running and I present my six reasons why trail running is better:

• 

  Enjoying the day.

  no mile markers
• softer surfaces
• no repetitive running motion
• better scenery
• better aid station food
• nicer people

He agrees and notes that people often ask him the wrong question: how fast does he run?  Running trails, or ultras, is not about speed.  Except for the elites or the very fast runners, speed is irrelevant. Most of us are out to enjoy the day. We are here to enjoy the journey, not to hurry to the destination.  One may have a finishing time goal in mind, but I don't know of anyone who translates that into a pace.

Ultras are not time trials.

Training tips - stop it! We are trail runners.

Around mile 12, still on the first loop, there are several runners in a group.  One, more experienced than the others, is expounding about training for ultras.  It is painful to hear.  He is laying out elaborate training regimes involving long and short runs, fartleks, speed work, lactate thresholds and more from the dismal world of road runners.

Finally I've had enough of the kill-joy.

"For God's sake! Stop!," I say. "We are trail runners. Unless you seek a podium finish, take all that training bunk and go run on roads.  Train for trail running by running on trails. Run short or long, but keep enjoying the trails you run on.  And if you run enough trail races, each one is the training for the next one.  Enjoy the day!"

Follow the ribbons.

Follow Ribbons, not Runners

The course is very well marked, but it isn't a trail race unless you fall down or get lost. Fortunately, I select the latter.

About ten miles in the wooded, single-track trail has several runners in evident confusion.  They have come out onto a city street that paralells the park, but there are no ribbons on the street, only a traffic cone about 30 yards away. One of the runners reports having gone to the cone, but not seeing a ribbon or trail.  So we do what is recommended - find the last ribbon seen on the course.  It is only about five yards back and it hangs over a fallen log. Looking from there we see that the trail makes a sharp left and we are soon back on our way.

More Than Just an Aid Station Volunteer

At the aid station at mile 24, I linger to chat with one of the aid station workers, Jim Blandford. I saw him there the first loop taking pictures, but now we have time to chat.  He recognizes my Bull Run Run 50 shirt (he is wearing a BRR hat that I have) and we trade BRR stories. He notes that he is doing Massanutten Mountain 100 the following week and I tell my well-worn story of pacing cousin Peter there.  He tells me how the course has that portion of the course has changed since then.

Thoreau's Hut in Pennypack Park

I refill my hydration pack while we talk, grab some cookies, thank him for volunteering and wish him good luck the following week.

Jim is a prime example of what sets ultrarunners apart, for he is not just any ultrarunner.  He will be third at Massanutten the next week, nearly six hours faster than the next person in his age group. It's his third third place finish at MMT, to accompany a first place finish.  In the past 16 years he has never finished lower than seventh at BRR, including three firsts and three seconds.  He has twelve victories in the past 14 years in other ultras.  He is an elite runner, yet here he was dishing out aid to those of us at the far back of the pack. 

This is what makes ultrarunning different. (See bullet point six.)

Bacon and grilled cheese sandwiches

The four aid stations on the course (and the one at the start/finish) are well stocked with the usual ultrarun selections of cookies, potato chips, gels, water and electrolyte solutions.  But each of them is also equipped with a portable grill and are providing runners with grilled cheese sandwiches. But wait - there is more! Freshly grilled, hot bacon!  Many ultras will have grilled cheese, or quesadillas at an aid station, but at all of them?!? Oh, the joy.

This is what makes makes ultrarunning different. (See bullet point five.)

Trail next to Pennypack Creek

Trash Pick-up

As I run (In an ultra "run" means move forward, whatever the pace, including walking. It may also mean stopping to take pictures, admire the scenery or get food at an aid station.) I occasionally spot wrappers on the ground.  Some are clearly from runners who may have tried to put them in their pockets but missed, or had them fall out. (The latter has happened to me.)  I stop to pick one or two up, and it gradually becomes an obsession - not to pick up every bit of litter, as there are the random beer cans, carryout containers and other detritus, but only those that may have come from runners, like gel packs or the little tear-off tabs from gel packs.  It is a bit of OCD behavior, but I gradually can't stop, because it IS OCD behavior.  And I want to leave the park as clean as when the race began. 

Water splash at aid station

The temperatures are rising in the afternoon late in the second loop, and at the third aid station I cup my hands and have the volunteer pour water into the, which I splash on my face to cool off.  It feels good and refreshing.

At the final aid station I repeat the request but as I bring my hands upward the water flies out and more of it winds up splashing the unsuspecting volunteer than me. "If I knew what you were going to do, I would have jumped back," she says good naturedly. "I'll try again," I reply, "but try to have better aim."

First, Last and Only

Rich pulls away from me after we leave the aid station at mile 24 to finish in 8:15. Emaad hangs with Leigh Ann until about mile 22 and then tells her to go on, and she finishes in 7:37; he is 12 minutes behind.

Age group award

I finish in 8:27:14, good for 155 of 177 overall, 97 of 108 males, and first in my age group. Also last in my age group, as I'm the only one in it.  But it is good enough to win a Wetterhaus trophy for the finish.

Swag: Sweatshirt, hat, medal, bib, AG Wetterhaus

Seneca Creek Greenway Trail Marathon - March 8, 2025

 Another Event

Two weeks after our Copper Corridor 50K, Emaad and I find ourselves once again looking to do an ultra.  It is the familiar MCRRC Seneca Creek Greenway Trail 50K/Marathon, at which one decides which distance to complete a quarter mile from the marathon finish. Either go the quarter mile and call it a day, or run an extra four miles around Clopper Lake for the 50K.  And the inside joke is that neither are the advertised distances: the marathon is closer to 29 miles and the 50K more like 55K. New runners often discover that when they are on the course, not having read closely enough the race description that the "distances are at least" their advertised length.

Don, me and Emaad at the start

 

 

We wait until a couple of days before the race to assure that the weather will be pacific before signing up, as early March can present anything from pleasant days to wind, rain, ice, snow, mud and high water crossings.  See some of my earlier SGCT reports (2023, 2015, 2014, for example), for proof. But this year there is little rain leading up to a race day that promises to be pleasant.

At the start we greet Don, Caroline, Michele and other runner friends and at 7:30 a.m. the approximately 250 entrants start off.  Since the registration fee is the same and the actual distance run is determined late in the day, it is a mass start.

Near mile 2.

A Statistical Interlude

Don, who is fascinated with data, each year analyzes the registrations against the finishes.  This year there were 235 50K and 76 marathon registrations (76 percent 50K). The results had 157 50K finishers and 88 marathon finishers (64 percent 50K).  How many of the 66 unaccounted for registrants did not start or did not finish is unknown, at least to Don and me.  In any case, more people did the shorter distance than said they would.  And far fewer persons completed the 50K than signed up for it.

To Go Short?

I start out with Don and Emaad but the after less than three miles the pace becomes too much for me and I gradually fall behind.  I'm not sure I am fully recovered from Copper Corridor and start thinking that maybe I'll turn around at Black Rock Mill or the Route 28 aid station and call it a short day.

Selfie with Seneca Creek behind

But then Emaad backtracks and says he plans to stay with me and that quitting is not an option.  My weak body is overwhelmed by my weaker mind and I agree with his plan. We go on at a not particularly fast pace. Michele and Stephanie pass us near the power lines at 3.5 miles. Another mile further along Seneca Creek we stop to take pictures. We refuel at the Route 28 aid station (mile 8) and lament that Don is no longer the captain there, as his annual food themes (Peeps, tofu, Pringles, etc.) and witty signs were legendary. 

Route 28 Aid Station

New Friend

Stephanie crossing
Dry Seneca Creek

Going south on the Seneca Bluffs Trail we catch up with Anna. ("Anna, like banana," she introduces herself.) She is running her first ultra and we brief her on what to expect on the rest of the course. Our pace is only slightly faster than hers and she often catches up with us.  We cross the low (but never) Dry Seneca Creek easily enough on the stones set in the creek without getting our feet wet.  Down to River Road (mile 14.5) we cross over to the east side and head north on the Seneca Greenway Trail. 

Just before the Berryville Road aid station (mile 16) we cross the Hookers Branch, a small feeder stream, again without wetting our feet.  Fueling up with some of the last slices of bacon we head north.  Anna comes in to the AS just as we depart. "Have some bacon," I advise.

I find a feather from large bird and try to stick it in my cap, while Emaad warns of avian flu and other diseases from handling it.  He refuses my request for aid in securing the prize to and hat, and it soon floats away.

Back at the Route 28 aid station (mile 20) we refuel and press on.  We both comment on how climate change has affected the next stretch which used to consist of pine trees with a corresponding trail covering of soft pine needles.  Now many of the pines are dying, and the trail has been rerouted higher away from the creek.

Emaad crossing Hookers Branch

Missing Mishap

At Black Rock Mill (mile 22), I take advantage of the Portapotty before getting on the Seneca Ridge Trail for what always seems like the longest part of the SCGT race.

After about half a mile I search for my phone and can't find it. I pat myself down with no luck.  I tell Emaad to go on as I need to go back and see if I dropped it in the Portapotty.  After a quarter mile I recheck myself and find it in my waistbelt, which had worked its way under my shorts waistband.  I text Emaad about my find and he says he'll walk to give me a chance to catch up.  I run as much as I can and after about a mile catch him as he looks back, sees me on my way, and stops to wait for me.

We exchange greetings with other runners, most of whom are passing us.

Return of the Amigos

We come upon the Shrine of the Mariachis of the Trail, three deer skulls wearing colorful sombreros.  At one time there were five, but vandals had removed them. It will be harder to desecrate the shine now, as the skulls are securely screwed down to their log perch.

The Shrine of the Mariachis of the Trail

Finally we reach Riffle Ford Road, turn left and get to the aid station (mile 28.5), and thank the volunteers, I grab a cookie and on we go with the finish line for the marathon about a mile ahead.

Providing Aid

In a quarter mile I come upon a runner limping in obvious distress.  I inquire how he is, and he replies that his knee is hurting, as he had reinjured it earlier in the day from an injury a few weeks earlier.  I offer him couple of ibuprofen with the advice that it will take 20 minutes before he gets any relief from them. He notes that he has to drive back to DC so they will at least help him on the way home.

We reach the decision point for the the 50K but there really isn't any decision to be made: we are there well past the cutoff time and we weren't going to do the 50K anyway.

We go up the hill to the finish, announce that we did the marathon and not the 50K, collect our finisher's medal and get a bite to eat before walking back to the car for the drive home.

Results

I finish in a languid 8:13:47, with Emaad 29 seconds ahead.  My device claims the distance as 29.9 miles, which includes about a half mile backtracking for my (not) lost phone. Surprisingly, my time is good enough for first of three in my age group.  I'm second oldest (and 73rd overall) of the 88 marathon finishers.

Anna Banana finishes her first ultra marathon in 8:33. Michele and Stephanie finish in 7:49. Don finishes the 50K in 8:35, a minute behind Caroline.

Swag: Bib, Wooden medal

Copper Corridor 50K - February 22, 2025

Emaad and I at the start.

Distances

"The distance is what the race director says it is," is a slogan I often state when it comes to ultra races.  The reasons are simple: laying out a course on trails means it can only be where the trails are, and unlike road races where it is relatively simple to add or subtract mileage, it is usually difficult to do that when trails are involved.  In addition, measuring distances on trails can be difficult due to changes in elevation, switchbacks, tree cover and the like. No one is taking a measuring wheel on a trail.

And so, the Copper Corridor 50K is reported to be about 30.1 miles, rather than the 31.1 miles that would be the equivalent of 50K. But no one is going to call it a 48K race either, although that would be a more accurate (48.4 kilometers would be even more accurate, but let's not get obsessive).

Anyway, I've run 50Ks that have ranged from 29 miles to 33 or 34 miles.  It is was the race director says it it is.

And that will make a difference at the end.

Overview

Early on; Picketpost Mountain looms ahead.

The race mostly circles Picketpost Mountain, a singular mountain rising to about 4375 feet, or about 2000 feet above the surrounding area. It starts on Main Street in Superior, AZ, then runs roughly seven miles on the north side of Picketpost Mountain to the Arizona Trail (AZT), where it turns north for almost 2 miles, then south on the AZT for nine miles, almost entirely uphill on the west of the mountain.  By then most of the 3000 feet of climbing is over, with maybe only another 200-300 feet remaining. There, well south of Picketpost Mountain, the course turns north on the east side of the mountain on rough, unpaved and rocky North Telegraph Canyon Road, a stretch favored by ATV and other off-road vehicles. Five miles north on the road takes us to Arnett Canyon Trail, a smooth, flat, mostly shaded single track along Arnett Creek.  The remaining six miles is mostly on unpaved and paved roads, along with smooth trails on the outskirts of Superior and back to the Main Street start/finish.

In the morning.

Vignettes

Rather than the usual step-by-step report, here are some snapshots from the trail.

Don't Let the Cows Out

A fair amount of the early going involves running through grazing land.  There are numerous fences and gates with signs about closing the gates.  But most runners seem to be leaving the gates open, on the idea that the next runner is not far behind. From running Finger Lakes 50s, I, on the other hand, am obsessed with closing the gates.  There, runners are instructed to close the gates unless the following runner is within an arm's length of the gate. So that's what I do.  There are no cows in sight, and Emaad accuses me of being OCD, a label I accept.

Cactus Encounter

Running along I reach out to the left for some reason.  It isn't a good move, for without looking I grasp at a small saguaro cactus.  As soon as I contact the spines my hand recoils but it is a bit late, as I have managed to prick two fingers with three of the sharp needles.  Two barely break the skin, but the third is deeper and a trickle of blood results.  At least it wasn't a cholla cactus, I think to myself.

Long-horn cattle.

Javelina Hunter

Headed south on the AZT portion of the course, we approach a man in camouflage, carrying a long gun across his waist.  We stop to chat with him and he tells us that he is out to hunt javelinas, the  pig-like peccaries common in central Arizona.  He says he usually shoots from 300-400 yards, but with runners on the trail, he won't take any chances and isn't hunting.  This is the second time he has come across a race when he has gone out to hunt, but seems to be taking it with equanimity.

Cattle

Just before leaving the AZT to get on N. Telegraph Canyon Road, I spot something standing on the trail ahead.  It is large, reddish brown and has a massive pair of horns. Looking right, there are several more cattle slightly up a slope looking at us.  The one on the path ambles away toward the herd and we quickly go by.  A little while later we spot another one lying down in a dry wash. 

Orange Off-road Vehicle

On the AZT.

We hear it before we see it.  Coming up from behind us is a large, orange off-road vehicle, with a couple sitting side-by-side on-board, wearing helmets with microphones. We move to one side, they pass slowly on the other side, and everyone exchanges waves.  Once past us, they take off, leaving us to consider whether we chose the right mode of travel.  

Cramps

Someplace around mile 20 or 21 my right thigh starts to develop cramps. I recall - with regret - that I had been meaning to take salt tablets. I've been drinking exclusively liquids with electrolytes, but it is not enough.

Later in the day. Long sleeve shirt off.

And then I start to feel woozy and tired.  I sit down while I take a salt tablet and eat a gel, sipping my electrolyte liquid.  Slowly I feel better, but the key now is to slow down time.  I decide that I need to sit for five minutes.  Emaad hangs with me, but we are closing in on the cut-off for the Telegraph Hill aid station at mile 21.8 and I tell him to go ahead so that he can make it.

After three minutes I'm feeling close to normal, but I'm determined to take the entire five minutes, even if it might cost me the cut-off.

At five minutes I feel OK, get up and head out.  I've caught up with Mike. We head to the aid station and don't care about the cutoff.

Southbound on the AZT.

Aid Stations and Cutoffs

The aid station should be just ahead, at mile 21.8.  It's less than a mile.

But it is not. Mile 21.8 comes and goes. So does mile 22. Finally we come to it at mile 22.6, well past where the course directions indicated it would be. And we are there at 6:35 into the race, five minutes past the cutoff.

But we are not cut-off. Emaad had gotten there in time and asked the aid station volunteers about the cut-off and they knew nothing about it.  After calling race headquarters they are told not to worry about it.  So we are free to go on.  As to dropping out there, they helpfully suggest that it would be better to go another five miles to the next aid station.

We wave Emaad onward to assure that he can make the final 9 hour finishing cut-off.  Mike and I take our time, eating, refilling our hydration packs and deciding that we will stick together and not worry about the final cutoff.

Final Cutoff

Mike and I set off walking. No pressure, no hurry.

We turn onto the Arnett Canyon Trail along Arnett Creek.  A couple of Arizona Rangers are there asking if we have seen a 32K runner who is missing.  Unlikely that we would have seen him, as where we came from was not on that course, but there is no accounting for getting lost.

The trail is shaded, smooth, and flat and I ask Mile if you wants to run.  He replies in the affirmative and we set out mixing running with walking.

We are making good time and I start to do arithmetic of the pace we need to finish in time.  It's doable and the running is easy.

The course is well marked and we partly retrace about two miles of the beginning of the outbound course.  Then we turn off onto the wide, but unpaved Apache Tear Road.  It is gentle downhill and I'm a bit ahead of Mike.

I spot Kate ahead. She injured her ankle a couple of weeks ago but is still out here, mostly walking. I catch up and walk with her.  I look back and can't see Mike.  Kate is grateful for the company but as we turn onto a trail around mile 27.3 I tell her I'm going on and take off.

The trail leads to Arnett Drive where a pair of sheriff deputies stand by their car.  I tell them that there are two runners not far behind me as I turn left to pass the Superior Public School complex.  I'm momentarily confused looking for the aid station, but it is across the street by a skate park pavilion.

Picketpost Mtn. from the southeast.

I only take time to get some liquid and cookies to eat on my way, as there are only two miles to the finish . I have about 38 minutes to go two miles. Nineteen minutes a mile on pavement and smooth, mostly level trail is walkable. I run some but mostly walk. Once I turn onto W. Main Street with less than a mile to go, I know I can walk it in, so I walk.  Only when I'm within 20 yards of the finish do I run, and I finish in 8:53:41.

The Distance is What the Race Director Says it is

Had the Copper Corridor 50K been 31.1 miles it is unlikely that I could have done the additional mile and finished under nine hours. I had 6:19 to spare, plus whatever additional time I could have picked up from the Telegraph Hill AS over the last 8.5 miles.  And it might not have been much, as I averaged 15-17 minute miles over the last four miles. Could I have shaved a minute or two off those miles, spent a few fewer minutes at the Telegraph Hill AS and started to run sooner after leaving there? Perhaps, but it would have been a near thing.

But the distance is what the race director says it is, and on this day, that worked in my favor.

Finals

Mike finishes in 8:56:25. He is the last official finisher, as Kate finishes but over the 9 hour cutoff. Emaad was there at the finish, waiting for me, crossing the line in 8:39:37.

In the six years of the race's existence, I am only the second runner 70+ or older to finish it and I tie for oldest at 74.

Swag: Shirt, glass, sticker, bib.