Subject: Squaw Peak Report From: Todd Salzer Date: Wed, 05 Jun 2002 10:12:39 -0600 This race report actually begins back in July at Hardrock... My friend Marc paced me at HR for most of the night, and one of the things we yapped about was the Squaw Peak 50. Little did I know he was listening so keenly until he emailed me in January, "I just sent in my entry to Squaw Peak. Now what do I do?" The first time one of my friends has succumbed to my babbling... Then some other friends, Paul South and Steph Schwartz express interest, so we all enter as a team. (Flash forward to last week) Thursday/Friday Marc and I drove out from CO. I showed him some of the course, we ate/drank all day, went to the briefing and dinner (his eyes got real big when RD John Bozung said this was the third hardest 50 in the west), and finally got to sleep after packing up our drop bags, all the while trying to reassure Marc that he is not crazy and that he will be OK. Saturday we got some grub down before driving to the start. Line up just before 5, Paul and Steph show up just in time. It is my third time at this race. In 2000, it was my first "real" 50 miler, so I started slow and finished strong, just over 10 hours. Last year, I started guns ablazing and finished in a bad place, again with the same time, just over 10 hours. This year I was trying to get under 10 hours, going out conservatively, so I had some left at the finish. Promptly at 5, 150 runners head off down the trail. It's dark, but not bad as the race starts on a bike path for two miles. Then the fun starts as we leave the path and head uphill on a single track. The course is well marked, and this is my third time here, but I absentmindedly follow a group of about 30 runners off course. As soon as I realize that it doesn't seem familiar, everyone turns around and heads back the way we came. Couldn't be too far I hope. 6 minutes back (12 minutes lost). Damn! Oh well, extra credit. The trouble is the trail is real narrow, and now I am in the back of the pack with no room to pass. Bide my time until AS 2, mile 5. 80 minutes for 5 miles (25 more than last year), I realize it is going to take a huge effort to get 10 hours, and I just am not up for it. Ramble on uphill, still passing people, but intent on having fun and not really worrying about my time. Catch up to Marc in a few miles. He is surprised to see me so we cruise on together. After a few miles I decide I will stick with Marc and we'll see how we can do together. I keep harping on him to drink and eat and to keep an even keel and he seems to be doing OK. The scenery is amazing so the time passes freely. We eventually reach the first high point at Camel Pass, Mile 16? We're making good time, leap frogging people, but Marc is starting to get a little dehydrated so we're slowing down. In the past two years I had really opened up on this long downhill (about 5 miles) but with Marc's troubles we are shuffling along. When we get to the AS I try to get him to drink tons, which he does, and I hope we may be turning the corner. Just out of the AS he has a blister. No worries, I have some duct tape, so I help him tape it up and we're off again. Miles 22-26 are on pavement, we're shuffling along but Marc is upset that we aren't going faster. Nobody is passing us and we are doing fine. Finally we get to aid at 26. The finish of Marc's first marathon. Everyone at the AS is very congratulatory, but we have another one yet to do. We spend a little more time than I would've liked to at this aid, but Marc was eating and drinking the whole time so it was well spent. Now we start a gradual climb on a dirt road for 3+ miles. At some point during this section I am thinking about Marc's first marathon and start thinking back to high school (we've been buddies for a while). Me: "Marc, is this your first race?" Marc: "Yeah." Me: "Never a mile, 5K, anything?" Marc: "Nope." That whole deal about reassuring Marc that he isn't crazy, I take it all back. Doing a 50 miler as your first race IS crazy. I proceed to tell everyone we see about my crazy friend Marc. We are still moving fine and Marc has rehydrated well. Up we go on another fantastic trail. Beautiful flowers, it's really green on this part. At mile 33 the real fun begins. From this point on there is no dropping out. It is 7 miles to the next aid, which is backpacked in 6 miles (volunteers are so cool). So if you leave 33, you've gotta get to 46 where it is downhill on a road to the finish. So at 33, we fuel up, both of us changing shirts, shoes, and packs so we have a fresh start and enough fuel to get over the hump. It is a long haul to Windy Pass. We move slowly uphill on the first 2 miles, finally reaching the ridge. This is my favorite part of the race. Runnable singletrack, soft dirt, in the woods. I prod Marc into running and we are cruising right along. Then we come to the Highway to Heaven (although some might call it the Highway to Hell.) Straight uphill to the summit of Windy Pass. The crux of this race. But that's not enough. How about a little weather. The 30% chance of showers have materialized in the form of wind, sleet, rain, and a little hail. All I have is a windshirt and Marc has a (literally) 20 year old windbreaker. Better than what a lot of the people around us have, which is nothing. Just keep pressing on uphill, ignoring the increasing cold. It's not bad when it's not windy, but when the wind is kicking, the rain/hail feels like needles in my legs and face. Needless to say this isn't much fun. We trudge on, no choice, getting into survival mode. At one point coming down off the pass into the aid station the wind must be 60mph. I can't recall having been this cold before. My hands are frozen in a C-shape around my water bottles. Serves me right for going into the mountains unprepared. After the AS (those folks are troopers) we meander downhill on rocky singletrack for about 4 miles, when the rocks turn to mud. Big, thick, slimy mud. Stick to your shoes, then the mud sticks to the mud kind of mud. The kind of mud that is easier to ski than to run in. Like a slip and slide with moonboots on. Slow going for a while, but the sun has come out so at least we are warm. After the aid at 46, we slog down the road to the finish. I try to goad Marc into shooting for 13 hours. It's getting closer, we're going to make it. Maybe. Official time I haven't seen, but either 12:59:59 or 13 hours even on my clock. I am really proud of Marc. His first race is a 50 miler. Now that's a story for the grandkids. A couple hours slower than I initially would have hoped for, but I got to try a lot of different food and drink (hmmm, guacamole) and help a good friend achieve something that is pretty awesome. It was a grand day. Paul went out with the big boys (Karl Meltzer and Nate McDowell) but had some stomach problems and had to walk it in for a 10 hour finish. Steph was either fourth or fifth woman, around 11 hours. Our team was the only one that finished, so we all got a real nice fleece blanket. John had a lot of sponsors once again and gave away all kinds of swag. I ended up with a Kestrel(?) tool that tells you all kinds of weather related info. Really cool. The food was great at the finish and I caught up with some friends before we began the long haul back to Colorado. Again, much thanks to John Bozung and all the volunteers. I love this race and recommend it strongly to anyone looking for a great challenge, great scenery, and a great all around time in the mountains of Utah. Todd Salzer in Golden, CO (ready and waiting for Hardrock next month!)