Subject: Superior Trail 100 race report Date: Sun, 19 Sep 1999 11:23:37 MDT From: Peter Bakwin Superior Trail 100 Race Report Peter Bakwin (pbakwin@cmdl.noaa.gov) September 19, 1999 At a few minutes to five in the morning the runners streamed out of Mary McDonald Elementary School and lined up under starry skies. The weather was perfect for a 100 mile run, clear and about 40 degrees. An unceremonious "Go!" from RD Darlene Poeppel and we were off, cruising easily along the quiet streets of Silver Bay, Minnesota. After 0.7 miles we turned onto the Superior Trail, our by-way for the next 20-34 hours. With only 60 starters even the first miles of trail were uncrowded. I took it pretty easy, especially on the many steep climbs, but found that I passed people easily on the descents. The first 20 miles were on excellent though challenging single track, with innumerable short, steep ups and downs, many so steep as to require rock or wood steps, and lots of roots and rocks. With fresh legs it seemed pretty easy. Occasionally we would break out of the woods on cliffs overlooking rolling hills, with Lake Superior in the distance. The views were breathtaking in the early morning light, but it was a good idea to stop running in order to take a look, lest one should trip and possibly fall off a cliff! I ran quickly through the Tettegouche aid station (11.8 miles), handing my wife, Steph, a pile of gear -- jacket, extra shirt, flashlight. I grabbed some potatoes and a hand bottle of Suceed Amino, and hit the trail again. It felt good to be running un-encumbered, with just a light tee shirt and shorts. My lucky pig was pinned to my baseball cap. The trail became more and more deserted as the runners began to string out, everyone finding his or her pace, or perhaps adjusting their pace in order to run with a new companion. Climbing a hill at about mile 19 I caught up with Jim Musselman, Sue Johnston, and Regis Shivers running together. I stayed behind them only briefly, passing on next downhill. They caught me again on the next climb, and soon we were on the road section and they pulled steadily away. At the second aid stop (20.8 miles) I was happy to see Steph's smiling face. "You're doing great!" she said. "There's only one problem with this race," I replied, "You're not running it with me!" She's a great crew, but an even better runner. The Superior Trail is a fantastic venue for a 100 miler. Unfortunately, because of some access problems the next 7.5 miles are routed on highway, much of it on busy Hwy 61. But the road miles went quickly and soon I was at the Caribou Creek aid station. Jim, Sue and Regis had arrived a few minutes before me, but I grabbed a bottle of Amino, a couple of gels and some cookies, and quickly left. That was the last I saw of the trio, and in fact I saw no other runner for the next 15 miles! It was great to get back on the trail, and out of the sun as the day was warming very quickly. In the trees the temperature was perfect. The next segments turned out to be relatively easy, with much more moderate ups and downs and generally smooth trail, and I made good time. As the hours went by I began to think that everyone else had dropped out of the race, it was lonely out there! The small, intimate aide stations and the occasional group of hikers were the only human contact. But the trail and terrain were inspiring, and we frequently crossed rushing streams with impressive waterfalls. Around mile 43 I passed Andy Holak and another runner. Andy, who has won the ST50, looked very unwell, "I've never felt this bad in the 50!" he said. "Hang in there Andy, never say die!" I said. I ran briefly with the other runner, and as I began to pull ahead he informed me that I was now in third place. I ran into the Temperance River aid station (45.7 miles) feeling pretty sassy, but also a little overawed by the distance still ahead. Sometime before mile 50 I passed one more runner. "My hamstrings are shot," he said, "I'm just going to walk in and drop!" "Who's ahead?" "Jeff Simpkins from Ontario." The going was getting tougher again, and there was a big climb near mile 50, with the trail marked for the 50 mile runners turning off about half way up. I reached the Tofte aid station (50.9 miles) at 9:07 into the race. After the Oberg Mountain aid station (56.6 miles) we did a lollipop loop around Oberg Mountain. I became briefly disoriented when the pink marking ribbons disappeared, and spent a few minutes to reassure myself that I was on the correct trail. Coming off the loop I saw another runner (Rick Lindquist, I think) starting the loop, so I knew he was about 20 minutes behind. I picked up my pacer, Ken, at Poplar River (65.5 miles). It was great to have some companionship. The terrain had become more difficult again and I was certainly getting tired, so it was good to have some moral support as well. My legs were still working well though, and my stomach was fine. I was taking potatoes and cookies at each aid station, eating some gels along the trail, and had switched from Amino to XL1 for a change of flavor. I was running the gradual climbs and flats, and still moving well on the downhills. We got sporadic reports about lead runner, Jeff, he seemed to be about 45 minutes ahead and gradually putting more time on us. The skies had become increasingly cloudy and rain seemed a good possibility. With the setting sun the light failed quickly and we had to use our flashlights. It is always difficult to get used to that for the first half hour or so. The Midway aid station (77.8 miles), which is supplied by ATV, is not accessible to crew, so we just grabbed something to eat and filled our bottles with water. The trail ran along the Cascade River on rocky footing and then crossed a bridge over the river. We figured we were close to the Cascade River aid station (81.5 miles). We followed the pink ribbons up a hill, and then around a sharp left turn and up some steps, and began a long climb. "I hope we come to that aid station soon," I said, feeling pretty depleted, "I'm out of food and water!" In fact we never found the aid station, which was on a short spur trail near the bridge and was not well marked. We were on the most difficult section of the course with no food or water. Fortunately, the Cascade River was nearby for a time and I filled my bottle and drank deeply, hoping to stave off a total shut-down. It began to rain lightly. Our pace flagged considerably, and I'm afraid I was really whining! "Oooh, this is too hard!" Somehow, with excellent coaxing from Ken (a good pacer is invaluable in these situations!) and a lot of moaning from me we managed to reach the next aid station at County Road 45 (85.4 miles). It had been only 2:15 from Midway, but it seemed that the night had been turned upsidedown. However, after a little break and some food and Coke at the aid station I felt remarkably recovered. The going became much easier again, though still with plenty of roots and rocks. The trail was wet from steady but light rain. We crossed some beaver dams on planks, and Ken fell into a pond up to his knees. At Bally Creek (91.0 miles) we were relieved to see Steph. We had imagined her looking for us on the trail near Cascade. She had a somber expression and told us that I would be DQ'ed for missing the aid station! This did not seem like important information, what was I going to do, stop? I came to run 100 miles, so off we went. We made very good time on easy terrain to Section 18 (95.2 miles). It was just about 1:00 a.m., with 4.9 miles to go. "Hey, if we really hit it maybe we can get in under 21 hours!" I said. So, we ran hard (or what seemed hard) for about the next 40 minutes through grassy fields on a marshy double-track which was flat or very gradually climbing. We came to a significant descent and the lights of Grand Marais loomed ahead. "We can make it!" However, my legs were not up to another steep, rocky descent, and the going was very slow. It seemed we were just a few minutes from the lights of town when the trail turned away and headed back uphill! This was just too much for my flagging energy and I started moaning again. The climb, which forms a tiny blip on the course profile, seemed like the hardest of the run, and it seemed to go on forever. The dream of a sub-21 hour finish evaporated. Finally, and inevitably, we burst out of the trees, ran onto the football field of Cook County High School, and broke the ribbon at 21:37. The RD was there to greet the finishers. Indeed I was DQ'ed (as was the 3rd place finisher, and 2 other runners), but that did not matter at all. All that mattered was to lie down! There are a few 100 milers that seem to draw everyone's interest: Western States, Leadville, and Wasatch sell out early every year. You can sign up for the Superior Trail 100 the day before the race, it has never reached its limit of 200 entrants. ST100 is a tough event that is a true trail runner's course (unlike Leadville, which is generally smooth trail and a lot of road). It is very technical and the climbs and descents are extremely steep. The course is very beautiful and quite varied. We ran over rugged, rocky hills, through marshy meadows, over beaver dams, across bridges over rushing streams, and on miles and miles of wooded single track. The quality of the course is marred by only one 7.5 mile section of road, which took me about 1:10 to run. I thought the course was very well marked except for one turn (I'll bet they mark that better next year!) The event is low-key and appealingly local. The aid stations were adequate, though a friend who was in the mid-pack reported that some aid stations had run out of supplies. The run takes place just before peak leaf-peeping season, and we had no problem to get room reservations a few weeks before the race. One can expect comfortably cool weather, though it often rains. I recommend this race for anyone who truly loves to run trails, and does not mind a little solitude!