Pacing Hardrock

Tim and I ascending the first ridge out of Maggie Gulch

  Last weekend I had the lucky opportunity to pace at the Hardrock 100.  My former running buddy, Jon, who has since moved to South Carolina, got himself on the "am willing to pace" list for the race, and got in contact with Tim Adams, of London, England, who was looking for a pacer or two.  Jon graciously extended the invitation to help with pacing duties to Cody and I and we both jumped at the chance.  Cody had to do some logistical gymnastics to get out of a scout camp early, but sacrifices must be made, right?  After all, it is Hardrock--the grand-daddy of all 100 milers.

The view from Maggie Gulch Aid

 I was a little nervous about my pacing duties, since the course is notorious for being not well marked, mostly because of the course conditions rather than a lack of effort by the race staff, and the fact that I'd be responsible for navigation in very unfamiliar and unforgiving territory.  But luckily I learned that Tim had marked the section I would be pacing a few days earlier so between us we probably wouldn't get too lost.  My section was Maggie Gulch Aid to the finish in Silverton, CO, which included three ascents to 13,000 feet.

Tim Adams:  Kickin' butt and takin' names

 When I picked up Tim at Maggie's, it was beginning to storm just a bit.  I was really glad that I packed all the extra weight of my bad-weather gear, because the weather went from rainy and windy one minute, to sunny the next, and we would endure several wet, cold, and windy storms before the finish.  Tim was pretty tired to start, so we slowly climbed to the top of the ridge above Maggie Gulch overlooking the Buffalo Boy mine.  Here, Tim pointed out the route we would be taking.  He pointed at ridge after ridge of high, steep mountains that we would be climbing, and I began to get a sense of just how difficult the course is.  The views, however, were breathtaking.  We do not have mountains like this in Utah.  Many of the ranges looked like something a child might draw, with jagged, otherworldly shapes jutting up against the sky.

Looking over the rest of the course from the ridge above Buffalo Boy Mine, with the Grenadier Range in the distance

 After a brief respite of relatively level trail along the top of the ridge, we steeply descended into the next valley.  We could see a herd of sheep grazing to our left, and a deserted jeep road that we would cross before we continued to the aptly named Stony Pass.  Tim was feeling more fatigued as we crossed the valley and began the short climb up the pass, and I encouraged him to keep eating so that he could keep his strength up, as we still had over 10 miles to go.  Near the top of the pass, it began storming again, and we were nearly blown off the mountain a time or two by strong winds.  As we descended into the beautiful valley on the other side, the winds lessened and we began to warm back up.  Tim began moving quite a bit better and we made good time through this section.  This was perhaps my favorite part of the course.  It reminded me of the country of Rohan from the Lord of the Rings movies.  Soon, we reached the mouth of the valley and were able to look down into Cunningham Aid.  When Tim had pointed this section out from a distance, I couldn't see just how deep this canyon was.  Glacial action and subsequent river erosion had carved out a very steep canyon, with several hanging valleys carved by other glaciers intersecting it.  We would descend into the bottom to the aid, and then climb up the sheer wall on the other side to one of these hanging valleys and then over the final ridge.

Dropping into Cunningham Aid

 When we got to the aid station, I ran ahead to get things ready for Tim.  It was raining hard at this point, and we were soaked and a little chilly, so we both took the opportunity to throw on some drier clothes and drink some hot chocolate and broth.  Soon, we were back out on the trail and climbing up what amounted to little less than a cliff face on the other side of the valley.  The climb seemed like it lasted forever.  The switchbacks were innumerable, and by the time we got to the mouth of the hanging valley we were both pretty much worn out.  We would have to stop every 100 yards or so just to catch our breath and let our heart rates slow down to manageable levels before continuing on.  But, finally, as the sun set across the distant peaks, we reached the top of the ridge, skirted the top of a line of frowning cliffs, and began the steep and treacherous descent down the other side.
By the time we reached the jeep road that would take us most of the way home, it was pretty dark, so we put on our lights.  We were able to get a better pace going here, even though it was still mostly hiking.  It was nice to go downhill again.  We were both ready to be done with the race, although I hadn't run 95 miles at this point.  But, we still had a few challenges ahead.  After two or three miles of rough jeep road, it began to rain very hard.  The temperatures had dropped to near freezing, and I was somewhat surprised that it wasn't snowing.  We were both glad that we had each brought a cheap emergency poncho, as they kept us very dry.  Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, we reached the final section of singletrack.  This section also seemed to go on forever, but we started moving faster anyway.  I think that Tim was "smelling the barn" so to speak, and so he let me go ahead and set the pace at a fast jog-hike.  After many stream crossings and getting our feet thoroughly soaked, we reached Silverton.  The town was deserted, but we were just happy to finally be so close to finishing.  We reached the last few hundred yards and I coaxed Tim into a run into the finish.  He completed the race just shy of midnight, in 41 hours, 53 minutes, good enough for 64th place.  But, I'd say anyone that finishes this race is pretty hardcore.

The Finish!  After breakfast, of course!

 Pacing any 100 miler, but especially Hardrock, is a unique and incredible experience.  Watching firsthand the human struggle against one's own physical limits is an inspiring and motivating thing to observe.  It was a pleasure to spend nearly 8.5 hours over 15 miles in Tim's company, rain or shine (lots of both).  It was also fun to watch the race unfold and be on the same course as Hal Koerner and Darcy Africa (M and F winners, respectively) along with other heavy hitters like Dakota Jones, Krissy Moehl, Karl Meltzer, Nick Pedatella, Diana Finkel, etc.  I hope to get the chance to do this again, and maybe someday even run the race myself.  Congratulations to Tim, and all the other runners that completed or participated in this race.  It was a truly memorable experience.