Cascade Crest Classic 100, August 23/24 2003 I talked Bob into running the Cascade Crest Classic 100 right after he failed to "win" the Western States lottery. I've always wanted to visit the Cascades, and the relatively low altitude compared to other mountain courses was a real plus. I arrived in Seattle on Friday morning and met a bunch of new friends at the baggage claim carousel. I begged for a ride on the Ultra list and was pleased that the North Texas boys came through and Tom Crull was my driver. We picked up his pacer Bob Bass from the LA area and headed east to Easton. I'll say this about ultra-folk: Every person I've met in this adventure is a pure delight. Tom, Bob and I spent a great 80 minutes or so together in the car, then had lunch at the Parkside Cafe in Easton which is also the race start and finish. Several minutes before arriving in Easton I called Bob at his hotel in Cle Elum, about 18 miles further down the road and the desk lady said he and Chris had just left for groceries. So I left the message for him to pick me up at the cafe in Easton. About 2.5 hours later, Bob calls my cell phone - "where are you?". He had Chris had been waiting for me at the Easton Saloon! Sure enough, the note from Front Desk Lady said "Jeff called, meet him at the Easton Saloon". Oh well, I managed to knock of a major portion of my book.... We spent the rest of the day hunting up the last couple of aid stations so Chris would know the way to them as she crewed. Saturday evening we ate some great Mexican along with a runner from Chicago we met. Early to bed...... The start is at the civilized hour of 10:00 AM, race briefing at 8:30. I met lots of runners, hung out with new friends, and played Ray Wylie Hubbard's tune "Screw you, we're from Texas" to my new buds from Dallas. Finally the start, and the runners, crew, and family listened to the band Boston's rendition of the national anthem with the Vietnam Vets in the crowd as color guard - a very nice touch. Chris and I had some time to kill, as she wasn't needed to crew for about 6 hours. We stopped in Rosyln where the series Northern Exposure was filmed, shopped for some groceries, had lunch, and then Chris headed for the hills at about 1:30. I read and relaxed in the room, then napped for a while. Later in the evening Bob Bass called to say we needed to leave about 10:00 for the 90 minute drive to where we were to pick up our runners. Finally, after waiting for what always seems to be like forever, Bob arrived at the 49 mile aid station called Olallie Meadows. Chris and I washed and re-lubed his feet as he porked out on some perogies. Off and running at 12:30, Mars over our right shoulders. The first section was 5.5 miles of about every type of terrain you could find. 1.5 miles of glorious and mostly downhill single track, 400 yards of butt sliding including some sections so steep the RD hung ropes off the side of the mountain! Finally to a forest service road and 1/4 of a mile to the only part of the course I wasn't looking forward to - a 2.3 mile abandoned railway tunnel. Well it was about 2 minutes of spooky, and 28 minutes of boredom. Finally out of the tunnel, we ran about a mile of paved roads to the Hyak Aid station. Hyak is the first hard cutoff at 55 miles and 3:00 AM, which we made by 19 minutes. Too short. We fueled and watered up and hit the road. Another 2 miles of pavement that we mostly ran until it turned to gravel and uphill. Bob and I figured we had ran about 6 miles straight which should have given us a bit of a cushion, but with 5 miles of climb with about 2000 feet of vertical ahead of us, I thought it might not be enough. I should say at this point that Bob was in the best shape I've seen him in for the 3 100s where I've paced him - both mentally and physically. I was having problems with my stomach, and since it was approaching 4:00 AM, very sleepy! But up and up and up we kept going. Being very dark I couldn't see much of the surrounding terrain, just the occasional ridge across the valley and very tall trees on either side of the road. When we ran along the side of the mountain, Mars was twinkling over the valley below. But what was very cool was when the road cut through 200' Douglas Firs and Orion appeared straight ahead between then trees. Wow. Soon the fingernail moon was up and after a LONG TIME we arrived at Kacheelus Ridge aid station. I forgot to check the time but I knew we needed to keep going. I reclaimed my vest and gloves from Chris, but couldn't eat because of a very rotten stomach. Bob ate well and off we went, down the other side. Five miles to the next stop, and about 2300 feet of descent. It seemed a shame to give up all that hard earned altitude, but we made use of it and took off at a trot. This section and the climb section before it were on single lane FS road and I was cursing the stones in the road and trying to stay awake. I was extremely sleepy - at one point I swear I woke myself up with a loud snore. And my gut hurt. Finally the darkness gave way to a gray dawn, and then the sky turned a magnificent orange, red, and then blue over the next ridge. Just awesome! Eventually I told Bob to run up ahead and I headed for the woods and had a magnificent Holtz moment. Instantly I felt like a new man. It took me several minutes at a fairly quick pace but I did catch back up to Bob, spooking a couple of mule deer in the process. Another mile downhill, passing a runner, and into Kachess Lake aid station. I didn't want to risk the delicious looking grilled cheese sandwiches, so I reloaded on more bland food out of my camelbak and Chris' awesome cooler. We left her at the aid station at 7:00 sharp. I did some figuring in my head and it looked pretty bleak as far as making the next hard cutoff 12 miles away in only 4:30. But I was starting to feel really great, as we finally headed back into the forest and away from the blasted gravel. This next section is referred to in many terms, none of them kind. The race booklet simply calls it Trail From Hell but I was loving it. A little bit of bushwack, clambering over huge trees, skipping along game trails. You'd never know I had over 26 miles in me. Unfortunately, Bob had more than 75 so he was traveling a bit slower. The "unimproved trail" eventually gave way to an single track along Kachess Lake and it was about the most beautiful scenery I've ever seen. A long narrow lake sheltered by high mountains on either side, and 3 miles of single track ahead of us. I thoroughly enjoyed this stretch. Yes it had it's share of roots and rocks but nothing as tough as many parts of the Superior Trail. Some day I have to run it on fresh legs! At one point the trail sweep caught up with us. He was a real friendly guy and Bob chatted him, going as fast as he could, while I ran up ahead, then waiting at some magnificent overlook on a cliff next to the lake. I had died and gone to heaven. Eventually we left the lake and began a gentle climb on fairly tame trail and into the aid station at Mineral Creek. The RD says that the course record holder ran that five miles in an even 2 hours and we covered it in 2:19 so I was pretty proud of Bob at that point. Unfortunately we now had only 2:11 to cover the next 7 miles which doesn't sound that hard until you figure that that section of the course profile looks like the back half of a capital V. 2700 feet of climb and it was pretty clear that we were done for. Bob asked me what I wanted to do. I made it clear that it was his race and his decision, and he immediately said "let's do it". We ate and drank with a little less urgency and made our way back to another FS road and the end of our journey. Over the next seven miles we climbed and climbed and climbed. And got tired. But the long and close in views were absolutely stunning. To our left across a broad valley below rose a range of snaggle-toothed peaks that took what was left of our breath away. Below us and above us on the ridge was continuous old growth timber consisting of Douglas Fir and Sitka Spruce. I recalled a poem we memorized in 5th grade, "I think that I shall never see a poem as lovely as a tree" and chanted it up the side of the mountain. Chris ran down from the summit and joined us for the second half of the climb. I was delirious, fantasizing about a homemade bacon double cheeseburger medium rare and a raspberry shake. Later I craved watermelon. I was starved! Finally we made it to the No Name Ridge aid station at mile 82 and 33 miles into my trek and it was suddenly over. The very nice aid station lady opened up the back of her Tahoe and we feasted on the watermelon that I craved. On the way down the mountain (this time in the rental car) Bob and I pretty much consumed whatever was left in the cooler including turkey sandwiches, PB&J, a pound of smoked salmon, apples..... And to conclude the event we pulled into what appeared to be an unofficial camping area next to the picturesque Cle Elum River and soaked our weary legs while watching kids, families and lovers enjoying the outdoors. I must give my strongest endorsement for this event. RD Randy Gehrke did an incredible job and everything went off without a hitch from this participant's point of view. The aid stations were easily the finest of any event I've attended. Each site was unique in it's own way, yet also provided a quality of service and down right enthusiasm that it was hard to believe that we were to be the last runners on the course for most of them. And I'm also proud of Bob. He ran well but we didn't make it. He accepted his fate like a man and without a whimper. Truly an amazing weekend I'll never forget. Jeff Wold Mendota Heights, MN From: Jeff Wold Date: Thu, 28 Aug 2003 23:25:15 -0500