It all started last year. On a Bandera training run in early April 2005 with Joe P. and some other HCTR folks, I was informed that a few of them were going to run a 100-miler in Wyoming in June, and that there were spaces still open. So I said, what the hell, and signed up the next day. After all, I had finished my first 50 miler at Sunmart the past December, and my first 100k at Bandera in January. I studied the elevation change at Bighorn and compared it to Bandera, and figured that they were the same in terms of elevation change per mile. So, I concluded, Bighorn must be Bandera, but you just have to go another 38 miles. No sweat, I thought.
WRONG
In June, 2005, I missed the Footbridge cutoff by 15 minutes. I had trudged for about 9 hours longer than ever before (23 hours, 45 minutes). I had run through the night for the first time. Hallucinations began in the morning. My quads had never been so trashed, and my feet never so blistered. I'll never wear Montrail hardrocks again.
Fast forward to June 16, 2006. Score Bighorn 1, Arne 0. Time to get even. Although I was more trained than last year's attempt (including 2 50/20 back to backs and 2 40/20 back to backs at Bandera), I was 5 pounds heavier. Being an optimist, I concluded that either my leg muscles were larger, or that I had extra fat reserves to rely on.
And then we were off. The sun was out, but the weather was cooler this year. It was nice. Up and up and up the canyon we went, then into alpine meadows. I was pushing the pace and breathing hard, but felt pretty good. Made good time into Sheep Creek and then Dry Fork. On the long trek to Cow Camp started to feel nauseous so slowed down. Several people passed me looking pretty good. I was feeling miserable and nauseous and mostly walking. At Cow Camp I took some Mountain Dew and cantaloupe. It seemed to work and I was feeling much better heading down the wall. I checked out of Footbridge around 7:00, about an hour ahead of last year. The long 17 mile climb up Tongue River Canyon to Porcupine was much more enjoyable than last year. The altitude did not bother me and I was power hiking pretty strong. Hitched a ride with a group going at a pretty good clip. Much better conditions this year as we got close to Porcupine. The incredible shoe-sucking mud bogs (much like muskeg bogs in Alaska where I grew up) were pretty much gone. No snow drifts to wade throught. Although it was colder than last year, I was dressed for it, and feeling pretty good. The stars were out and awesome. Wish I could have stopped more just to gaze at em, but had to keep going. A half moon came out as we reached the summit and headed the gradual downhill into Porcupine. What a lovely night.
As usual, the Porcupine ranger station was a night-time Mash unit for those poor souls feeling some altitude maladies, treating blisters (we had all been running with wet feet for several miles due to a knee deep stream crossing that was unavoidable due to a washed out bridge), etc. I was treated to a couple yummy ham and cheese pitas that hit the spot. Some poor guy was starting to don some loaner all-cotton socks for the long run back down the canyon, so I insisted he take my extra pair of Bridgedale train runners. I am sure his feet appreciated that:)
After changing into dry socks and new shoes, checked out of Porcupine around 2:30, 2.5 hours ahead of the cutoff and 1.5 hours ahead of last year. The trek back down the canyon was slow going, because my quads were pretty shot. So I did a lot more walking than I wanted to, which led to losing time. Tried to keep up with Andy Boyd, Ed from Canada, John from New York, and a few others, but I kept slipping back. On the stretch down to Narrows, I had the same hallucinations I had last year. Some big rocks looked like tents, so I was convinced it was the aid station. That happened a few times. Later in the day, Ed mentioned he had the same hallucinations:)
Finally made it into Footbridge. After changing shoes/socks and eating two helpings of pancakes, I was out at 9:10 a.m., 80 minutes ahead of the dreaded cut-off. This was a psychological boost, because Footbridge is where I dropped last year, missing the cut by 15 minutes, but already mentally checked out. I trudged up the Wall at a decent pace. Thank God for Andy Boyd and Ed from Canada, as I was chasing their heels the whole way up. Without that motivation, I would have been much slower. I was passed by a few fresh 50 milers. We finally made it to Bear Camp. We made a group of five heading out of Bear Camp. Rock from Colorado leading the way, with Andy, a 50-miler lady who for some strange reason enjoyed our company, Ed and me. Ed and I hung back and let the other three go ahead, as we determined their pace was too much for us. It took FOREVER to get to Cow Camp. I thought I saw it at one point looking over a valley. It was either a pickup without an aid station, or a hallucination. Probably the latter. Finally made Cow Camp where I ate a bunch of fruit. Getting out of the chair after a five minute sit was incredibly hard, and I entertained the aid station volunteers with my old man grunts.
So it was now 6 miles with a long uphill at the end to Dry Fork, and I had three hours to do it. Piece of cake if I could run it. I tried to run but those dogs just wouldn't hunt. So I power walked, and walked, and walked. You can see the Dry Fork station from miles away. All I knew is it was hot and dusty, a long way away, and up a hill that never seemed to end. Finally trudged into Dry Fork, looking at my watch, and pleased that it was 3:00. I had an hour to spare. Downed some coke and Aleve (I knew I would have to run downhill on painful quads), applied Desitin to my tender cheeks (thanks Joe P!), and was out at 3:15, 45 minutes ahead of the cut. Managed a little bit of running into the next aid station, but mostly walked. OK, still 45 minutes ahead of the cut. Time to run downhill. It was a miracle, but my quads came back, and I screamed (albeit relative to standing still:)) down the mountain, and cleared the trailhead with 2 hours and 5 miles on a flat dirt road to go. Tears welled up in my eyes as I knew I had it in the bag. My first hundred mile finish. And a tough mountain course to boot. Finished in 33:16, and felt incredibly good after the punishment I had put my body through.
What a course! What a race! What an accomplishment! Hardrock, here I come!
Arne Espe