The Quest for Broken Toenails at Broken Arrow 52k

2017 Broken Arrow 52km race report.

June has been an unusual month in California. A week ago, it was rainy and cold, with our fireplace taking the edge off the morning chill. The weekend of June 18th, we're seeing our first heat wave, with temps everywhere in triple or quadruple digits. I don't know what that means for you non-Americans that follow the Celcius theory of temperature - heat wave in the double digits? In any case, it just goes to show that California is a land of contrasts, and few things were full of contrasts this past weekend than the Broken Arrow 26k/52k Skyrace in Squaw Valley.

Spot the Skyrunner in Squaw Village

The BA is the first of 5 ultra runs in the US Skyrunning series - a series of trail runs that are held in high elevation, with lots of very technical climbing and mountaineering. I'm also signed up for race #3, the Rut 50k held in Montana, so I may be able to get enough points for second to last for the series.

Ramiro, Tiffany and I arrived in Squaw at 4:50 PM on Friday barely making the cutoff for early packet pick-up! It was early enough though to see the snow capped mountains right in our faces. Snow, in California, in mid-June. This ought to be fun. Standing there at 6,200 ft elevation, we were awestruck by the tall mountains before us - how could we have been so stupid as to sign up for this, and why didn't we drop to the 26k option like many of our friends did? Now, Ramiro and I will have to run two laps of the 16 miles course, 52km, on our quest to get our finisher hats.

Quicksilver Running Club at Broken Arrow

Race day was the first really hot day of the year. Even by the 7 AM start time, we could tell it was going to be a doozy. We started the first 4-5 mile section the way we start all ultraruns - with way too much enthusiasm. Still, after a modest climb and a dangerous ladder bridge crossing (dangerous in the way eating an M&M dropped on the floor 6 seconds makes me a badass), the dirt trails through the woods was a pleasant and familiar trail running​ experience. That first mile 6 aid station must be coming up soon, we all smiled inside.

Climb #1. In the 16 mile loop course, the main fun is between miles 5 and 13. These 8 miles make up 50% of the distance and consumed approximately 112% of our time. As we cleared the woods, we saw the trail turn sharply left and up a 30% snow covered hill. Welcome to Skyrace! All your asses are belong to us.

Where the magic happens

Spot is faster than all these guys! Ha ha!

I think most of us enthusiastically took most of our pictures here. By the time we got to the top, we were in a state of denial over what was laid out in front of us: a steep downhill followed a what looked like a string of ants in spandex climbing a longer, 35% gradient hill. Welcome to Skyrace! All your asses already are belong to us.

Ants on an anthill

Scenery was epic when we could look up

After briefly running and sliding downhill, we arrived at the mile 6 aid station. I dare say that in no other trail race has the sight of the first aid station been greeted with such enthusiasm. Unfortunately, in ultrarunning, what goes down must go back up. Departing up the partially snow covered “fire” road, ha!, was modestly entertaining but we could see the real fun in the distance.

Climb #3 went straight up the ugly side of a mountain KT-22 at an average 40% gradient. Because it was snow covered, our footing slipped often. We relied on the good grace of God, trekking poles and the fixed ropes. I needed Shrek to lead the way, “Dont look down, Donkey!” A bad slip and I could take 20 runners with me. Sure, I might get a lot of points but that wouldn't get me any closer to a finisher's hat!

You might make out the string of runners climbing straight and to the right

Don't look down!

... or up!

Climb #4, to the summit of Squaw Peak, was slightly easier in that it was on the drier south facing side, the only non-snow covered climb, and was long but a more modest 30% gradient. At the top was the infamous Stairway to Heaven ladder and a narrow ridge with some chicken wire serving as a poor man's railing to keep us from plummeting to our deaths on our right. The other side was acceptable to fall I guess. Maybe that was the Nevada side? I suppose the setup here was supposed to be intimidating, but I'm not really afraid of heights. If Ethan and Brendan really wanted to scare us, they could have set up a Stairway to Intimacy ladder where our wives and girlfriends, or worse, both simultaneously, wanted to talk about feelings and shit. Now that would make for one helluva obstacle course. Welcome to Guy-racing! All your feeling are belong to us.

Tiffany's climb and derriere captured for posterity

Whew! It's NOT a Stairway to Intimacy!

Crossing back to the northeast side, we ran the ridge with skiers and snow bunnies. We didn't have much mental capacity to be distracted by the girls skiing in bikinis. Yes, that's a thing, not limited to Juicy Fruit commercials. When you can ski and it's more than 80F out, it's a thing. This 1.5 mile section should have been runnable, but with deep slushy snow on top of a 5 ft base, each step was a chore, constantly twisting, losing balance, and scraping the opposite calf with my spikes. I wondered if I'd run in a straighter line if I was drunk. There also should have been a water station but ironically, they only had ice on our first lap.

Climb #5 was inverted from the ridge. They called the 1.2 mile section a lollipop, but I called it a zit on an otherwise single loop course in that I'd really like to pop it off the map. We glissaded down a hill, circled around some trees and climbed back up the snowy 30-35% gradient. After 30 to 40 minutes of climbing, we could coast to the third aid station.

Would I even remember how to run? We hadn’t actually run in hours, but we now had an easy 3.4 mile not too steep, nearly all dry downhill. After all that transpired and perspired, even mediocre runners like myself could crank out a sub-8 minute mile pace here.

Getting to the finish I could only think, wow, that was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. A tough as nails 5 hour 20 minute run. That is, until I was within 20 yards from the finish and someone reminded me that I had to do that all over again to get my hat. F*ck me! Do you know that feeling when you get in the car and the gas empty light is on, but you still have to get to work so you cross your fingers and hope you make it? Yes, that. At least I PR’ed the first loop. Let's hope my gas doesn't run out half-way up a mountain.

At the start of the second loop in the wooded preamble to the real climbs, Ramiro and I nearly pushed each other to jointly drop from the race. We had the experience and seen the sights. And do we really need another hat anyway? But this is the kind of brothers we are - the kimchee taco of the Quicksilver Running Club, each pretty delicious on our own but even better together. Sure, I had thoughts of slipping a Viagra into his hydration bladder for kicks (and to have him point us in the right direction), but our platonic bromance needs no bro-agra. After a bit of very necessary jarhead grunting, we pushed each other to march on.  

 

Even though both of my quads were cramping, Ramiro and I managed to push each other through the rest of loop 2. There were a lot fewer people on the course now - many 26k runners done and enjoying beer, some 52k runners probably having dropped after one lap, and some probably fell off the side of a mountain to await the summer thaw. With my buddy at my side, and Spot on my shoulder, we would persist.

The quest continues

We continued off and on with a few small groups of runners. I overheard a contingent of Mexicans calling this the Pinche Madres - I think they have this confused with the Sierra Madres to the south. Aren't these the Puta Madres?

I don't know how I looked, but I know how I felt.

The snow surrounding us stood in stark contrast to the heat we experienced all day. I frequently scraped snow into my hat and sleeves. The dry heat was also offset by my very wet and freezing feet. I don’t think my feet were dry past the first 2 minutes. I lost #3 and #4 toenails on my right foot and further damaged my #1 and #5 toenails already in intensive care. #2 will have to stand watch over my right foot all alone. My left foot, on the other hand, or leg?, was fine. No broken toenails. By the foot, I'm apparently only half-ogre.

The last two climbs were the worst for me. I lost my taco brother on the lollipop climb but got some help (Tums for calcium) from an alternate Latino, Noe, one of our good hombres, and made it to the top. Tired, sore, battered and bruised, we finally made it to the last aid station for the second and last time. One thing I’ve discovered, no matter how bad things are for me, I can always go downhill. And go downhill I did, covering the final 3.4 in about a half hour, passing several runners along the way.

Ring the bell. Get my hat and a beer. Done! 

And that's how you ring an effin' cowbell and shit!

Podium finish, baby! The RD's just need to get a bigger podium. Can you believe these youngsters running this course in 5 or 6 hours!?! Hey, what I lack in youth, good looks and speed, I make up for with old age, and more old age. And a touch of sexy.

 

Men:
1st - Tayte Pollmann (5:03:17)
2nd - Tim Freriks (5:07:43)
3rd - Nick Elson (5:11:24)
217th - Duke Hong (11:51)

Women:
1st - Kelly Wolf (6:02:38)
2nd - Stevie Kremer (6:06:51)
3rd - Anna Mae Flynn (6:08:09)

Departing thoughts.  That was the hardest race I've ever done. It felt like a 100k and took nearly the same time as the very difficult Marin Ultra 50 mile run. Ethan said he wanted this to be harder than our joint reference point - the Eiger Ultra-trail, and it was and took me 2 hours longer for the same distance and elevation gain.

Sunday is Father’s Day. I had Spot the Turtle as company the entire way. Spot is not just a good luck charm - that was the rubber ducky in my pack. Spot belongs to my daughter, Kim, who was born on Father’s Day weekend. She doesn’t have cancer or anything like that, I just miss her and having Spot along is my way of showing her and myself that I’m always thinking of her. 

My thoughts also turned to my coworker and teammate, Kevin Tierney, who passed away a week ago. I appreciated and enjoyed the scenery, my health and the opportunity I had to be out there a bit more in his honor and memory. Remember that your time on Earth is precious. Hug your princess or ogre. Go enjoy it to the fullest while you can! Travel, do things that scare you, excite you and grow you and shit!

Other pictures

Nice swag. Local beer was my add - you can put beer in a thermos, right?

I didn't get a group shot of the RD and volunteers, but this is how I remember them. Thanks for an amazing day!