Bighorn 100 Miler - Sheridan Wyoming

This would be my 2nd time to the Bighorn 100 and 4th 100 miler.  See, "we" are returning for Gina to conquer the event where she broke her fibula in 2017.  That was a muddy year too.  It started raining, sleeting and snowing at around mile 44.  Most of the time we couldn't use the trail and were in the tall grass on either side and the conditions didn't improve until around mile 82.  What would this year bring?

See in Wyoming, if the ground is dry it is hard packed and runnable.  If by chance it begins to rain or snow, the ground quickly begins to turn to mud and it is mud with no bottom to it.  It's hard to describe if you've never experienced it.

As the event drew closer, in the last week, they race committee sent out an note stating that the high country near the turnaround was still snowed in, that many of the race supplies/aid stations would have to be packed in on foot or by horse, that minimal aid would be available at these locations, that mandatory gear would be needed, that there was a lot of snow and mud, and that an extra hour would be added to the 100 miler and 30 minutes to the 52 miler.

With that said it was really hard to prepare as some people familiar with the course said that the last 3 miles to the turnaround were bad and others, around town, kept saying how bad it was "up there."  Almost every shop we went into had someone saying that they had heard it was bad.  No-one seemed to have good news.

I wasn't 100% going into the race but felt pretty good and adequately trained and thought I should be able to improve on my 26:45 of 2017 and was actually shooting for a sub 24.  I've been dealing with a glute issue since Holiday Lake 50k in February, right Achilles tightness and a right big toe that was recently re-aggravated and has been an issue since last year's Vermont 100 where in the span of 5 minutes I kicked two rocks so hard that it made me sick to my stomach.

The Bighorn 100 started at 9am on Friday morning (1 hour early).  The beginning of the course climbs for the first 12 miles and then descends into Dry Fork aid station the first drop bag and crew point.  I didn't feel good, I knew something was off but things weren't going bad either.  I was just running along.  It was a nice day.

Part of the first long climb

Keep climbing suckers

The road section before Dry Fork.

The view before dropping into Dry Fork.  You can see the aid station tents in the distance.

G catching me having so much fun at mile 13.

At around mile 20 it started raining and getting pretty muddy, sloppy, slippery.  This began my worry as once it begins to rain the trail conditions go to crap in a hurry and this was 24 miles earlier than in 2017.

To give you an idea of the Wyoming mud, in the pre-race briefing one of the course markers mentioned that a trail care crew went up from the Sally's footbridge aid station to cut out a tree.  When they went into the shoe sucking mud section, one of the horses sunk down to it's chest and had to be pulled out by the other two horses.  That tops all of the course condition stories that I've ever heard.

This part of the course runs along the ridge and then quickly drops down to the 30 mile Sally's Footbridge aid station and second drop bag location. 

Entering Aspen country

Running through the wild flowers

Just before we came across a moose running full out.  

About a mile from Sally's the sun came back out.

At Sally's we were instructed to carry a jacket with hood or a buff/beanie, long pants and gloves from this spot and were to keep this gear until the next day or daylight hours.  This is also, where I decided to put on my brand new Altra King Mts.  I had purchased them for muddy races but the catch was I hadn't worn them yet.  So it was a gamble.  I figured with mud and snow being a definite it would be worth it and, if I needed to, I could change out of them at mile 68.  Note - I would normally encourage people to avoid wearing new shoes in a race, especially an ultra.  In addition, this would be the first time I was picking up hiking poles to use in a race.  I figured these would be a big help in the muddy conditions and help keep me on my feet.

For some reason, the rain didn't affect the other side of the gorge and the climb up from Sally's was great.  I actually started to feel good and could run quite a bit of this section.  Somewhere after the Spring Marsh mile 40 aid station the course started to fall apart.  The weather was changing, the wind had picked up and it was beginning to rain.  I saw a guy sitting on a downed tree unpacking his jacket and within a couple steps saw the guy in front of me get wowed by a double rainbow.  We both took out our phones and took some pictures.  I yelled at the guy putting on his jacket that he was missing a great moment.  We each took a moment watching the storm and rainbow continue down the canyon we had just climbed up from.

Dude!  You are missing out!

Back to business, up to Elk Camp aid station.  I talked with a few of the aid station workers about 2017 and Gina being taken out by horse.  I check to see if Mouse, the horse they packed her out on, was there and they said he brought in supplies but was taken out afterwards.  Those aid station workers deserve some kudos for packing things in and putting up with us racers over 24 hours.  In the pre-race briefing there was mention of 1500 elk up here.  I didn't see a one.

They said we could go through the creek or....

Take this log bridge.  I chose the bridge.

Headed up!  Starting to see the snow.

One of the first muddier sections.  Just a little taste of what was coming.

It was 5 more miles to the turnaround and very slow going.  We began to enter the high country that we were warned about.  Tons of shoe sucking mud, snow drifts, and a handful of sections where we post-holed through the snow into knee high freezing water (from the melting snow).  I was entertained by the occasional F-bomb and other profanity as racers broke through the snow, to their surprise, into the freezing water (hey, sometimes other peoples misery motivates me).

We crossed Devil's Canyon Road and now it was 1.25 to the turnaround at Jaws Trailhead.  You could already hear cheering, cow bell and vuvuzelas.  Follow the fence row and onto the road into the aid station.  Surprise!  There was one more melting thigh deep snow drift next to the road.  Thanks Bighorns!

Jaws aid station is a biggie.  Lots of volunteers, gas heaters, drop bags, plenty of food, medical check, on the verge of nightfall and a prime place for people to melt under the pressure of the race and being almost halfway done.  I knew from 2017 this was where most of the 50+% turned in their bib number and dropped.

On my right was another racer talking with his girlfriend.  We were having/making fun of the mess we just went through and the day we still had left.  On my left was a guy that looked defeated.  He mentioned a couple times, to his girlfriend that, "I don't think I have another 50 miles left in me."  He made no effort to eat, drink, change clothes.  He was done.  Here comes one of the funniest moments.  Not one second after he started unpinning his bib number, the guy next to him quickly asks, "can I get a ride back to Dayton?"  The DNFs were in full swing.

Ok, now it was time to change some clothes, grab my lights, extra batteries, food, mandatory cold weather gear, top off the water and make the long return trip to the finish. 

I needed my light pretty quickly after leaving Jaws aid station as the clouds wind and rain came in.  The 5 miles back to Elk Camp were pretty slow and slippery as the mud didn't allow for any running.  Once there I added a extra shirt layer and buff as I was getting pretty cold.  Short stop at the fire to warm my hands up and I continued on to Elk Camp, where my watch finally died, and then on to Sally's Foot Bridge. 

For me, night-time trail hours tend to go pretty fast.  Just shine your light ahead of you and keep moving forward.  The single minded focus of following that light seems to make time go by pretty fast.

Before I knew it I was back to Sally's.  Marianna helped me restock my supplies and brought over an egg McMuffin.  I changed watches and saw 5:30am, that was a surprise, but then I realized that was Virginia time, that I hadn't acquired GPS yet and that it was 3:30am mountain time.  I was about an hour behind 2017 and that felt about right.   A couple deep breaths and sighs and it was time to climb the wall.  This year, the climb seemed sooo much steeper and longer.

The next part is a blur.  Cow Camp aid station was at the top of the climb, then 7 miles of up and down along a ridge to Bear Camp aid station.  This is where I started to realize I could no longer run.  I was having issues with my right ankle.  When I'd attempt to run the muscles in the front of my shin felt like they were severely strained, like I had kicked a 1000 rocks during the night (I hadn't).  This strained feeling built up to feeling like the muscles were ripping off the bone.  Mentally I was good and my energy was good.  Hiking wasn't too bad, so I hiked.  I did some quick math and knew I was going at about 3 miles an hour and that meant I had about 8 hours left.  Plenty of slow time on the trail.  I could deal with that. 

On a bright note, the Bear Camp folks bring up 100+ pounds of bacon to cook up during the race.  I grabbed a few crispy pieces and was off again to hike the next 6 miles to the last large aid station Dry Fork.  This section was much better than 2017 and was drying out with every minute.  In 2017 you couldn't use the road it was so muddy.  You had to make your own path in the tall grass and sage next to the road. 

At Dry Fork I changed shoes, socks, and shirt, dropped off my mandatory clothing and was off again.  For a few moments I thought the new shoes and socks were the key as I could run a bit.  That lasted for about a mile and it was back to hiking.  This section was busy as all the other races started to mix in with us 100 runners (52, 32 and 18 milers).  It was nice to have company but I had to get off trail a lot to let people get by.  Lots of runners cheered us 100s on as they passed us like we were standing still. 

Check out the mud up line all the way up to the short.

The next stop was Upper Sheep Creek aid station.  From here there was just one more steep climb and then the long 7.5 mile descent to the 5 mile dirt road to the finish.  This climb hurt everyone and I actually passed a couple of the other race participants on the climb (that was fun), but man that climb was steep. 

Down, down, down we went to Lower Sheep Creek aid station and then finally the road.  Ugh, the road, but yay only 5 more miles to go.  This road was pretty much in the sun. 

No worry that this pic would be blurry at my rate of speed.

I thought I might combust along these miles.  I had perfect hiking splits of 15:50s to 16:10 for the 5 miles.  Cross the bridge, one block to the park, turn left onto the grass and gravel path, and enjoy the last few tenths to the finish.  The path was lined with tons of people cheering and ringing cow bell.  It's a pretty cool end to the race. 

Done!

There was a tent at the finish with some chairs.  It was fun to finally sit and talk over the race with some fellow runners.  We talked about how nice it would be to get in the creek to cool off and clean up but none of us felt like we were nimble enough to fight the current. 

Now the mission was to get some food, get cleaned up and come back to cheer Gina and Emily in to the finish.  Marianna said Gina was expecting a 7pm finish and sure enough, they were right on schedule. 

We did it.  Mission accomplished.  Marianna was a big help babysitting the both of us out there.

We both finished without injury and that spells success and most importantly, means we have no reason to come back to the shoe sucking mud of Wyoming.