The Bighorn 100-Mile Course

It’s an out and back course starting 3.5 miles up the Tongue River Canyon west of Dayton, Wyoming, ascending the Tongue River Canyon to the Head of the Dry Fork and Dry Fork Ridge, then drops down into the Little Bighorn River Canyon and ascends the Little Bighorn Canyon to the turnaround at Porcupine Ranger Station at mile 48. From there, you return 52 miles the same course and run the last 5.25 miles on a gravel road that empties out of the Tongue River Canyon and parallels the river back to the finish at Scott Park in Dayton. It has 3 major climbs and 3 major descents, totaling 17,500 feet of ascent and 18,500 feet of descent over 100 miles.

Pre-race

This year I didn’t have to take on the course unsupported like I did last year. My parents, Mike and Charlene, were coming out to crew from Missouri. They were a little bummed when I informed them I was coming with two guys and not the wife and two kids. Since Annie is still 9 months old and not ready to travel 2,200 miles round trip to Wyoming, Jennifer was taking the kids to visit her family in Seattle. Meanwhile, I was making the trip with my two running friends, Sean Meissner and Chris Kraybill, both good friends and training partners. They were both running the 50 miler (actually a 52 miler) and I was running the 100. It would be Sean’s 58th ultra and Chris’ first 50 miler. This was to be my 25th ultra and my 4th 100 miler.

After last year’s win at Bighorn, Jennifer told me I HAD to return, and as she put it, “defend the title!” After coming within 49 minutes of Brandon Sybrowsky’s 2002 course record of 21:05, I really wanted the record too. I’d been going over the course in my head since last year and where I could have shaved time.Two areas to improve were in the forefront...

Number one, the last two climbs. Those had been my weak splits last year. I had lost a lot of time on the 17 mile, 4500 foot climb from Footbridge at mile 30 to the high point at 9100 feet where the course crosses Devil’s Canyon Road at mile 47. The other struggle I had in ’05 was the last major climb, done in the middle of the night—a 16.5 mile, 3300 foot climb from the Footbridge at mile 66 to the Dry Fork Aid station at mile 83.5. A majority of which comes early in the climb—2200 feet of the 3300 come in the first 3.5 miles off the footbridge up to Bear Camp.

The other time saver, aid station efficiency. I needed to be in and out faster. To add even more pressure to this race, Jennifer told me before I left, “If you want to return to Bighorn next year, you have to win!” Dang, she's hard core. But, I felt up to the challenge. I’m extremely competitive and she knows it. That’s what I needed.

Even with the pressure of a repeat win, I felt ready this year. I had 25% more weekly mileage on my legs in the final 10 weeks than the previous year. I also took races out of the training equation the last two months. I wanted to be able to handle good consistent weekly volume without the stress of racing. I also had lifted twice per week with Tom at CORE Sports, a personal strength trainer from January through mid-May. I was hoping it would all some together in the Bighorns and pay off.

We hit the road on Monday in Chris’ red VW Eurovan—Phoebe. The plan was to make it to Jackson, WY by Tuesday early afternoon and get a run in at Cache Creek in Jackson and in Teton National Park on Wednesday before pushing on through Yellowstone and Cody and on to the Bighorns.

Both Chris and Sean had lived and worked in Jackson in the 90s and it was cool to run on some of their old trail loops. Both last runs on Tuesday and Wednesday were mellow pace with my heart rate in zone 1, some photo breaks, as well as some walk breaks and generally just cruising and enjoying the views at high elevation. Both runs ended up being in the 75-90 minute range—super mellow. We camped at 7800 feet NE of Jackson on Tuesday night and then after the run on Wednesday drove and camped on the west side of Bighorn Lake at the foot of the Bighorns on Wednesday night at 3900 feet.

On Thursday morning, we cruised up Highway 14A into the Bighorns, west of Dayton and scouted out the conditions on the high point of the course and the turnaround.

Trail conditions were perfect, dry and tacky. Unlike last year, that area was fully saturated from snow melt and there was water standing on the course around Devil’s Canyon Road. The temps were sunny but chilly at 9000 feet, a down coat being necessary. With the course conditions and my legs feeling really good, I was optimistic for race day.

There was talk of thunderstorms on race day, but we awoke to just a slight haze. Bighorn has an 11am start (the norm in most 100 milers being 4 or 5am starts). It’s nice, because you can get a good nights sleep the night before, get up and not feel rushed. I woke up on race day about 7am and had my normal pre-race meal of 3 raw organic eggs and organic raw milk, rocky-style, a banana, and water.

About 10:10am, my folks, Chris, Sean and I jumped into Phoebe and headed up the Tongue River Canyon Road to the start. We hung out and made small talk with Rob Cain and Tim Turk, two other Oregon runners from Ashland.

After checking in, I mingled with Roch Horton and Ty Draney, two former Montrail/Patagonia teammates. This would be my first showing under the new Patagonia Ultrarunning Team banner, as Columbia Sportswear bought out Montrail this year. Montrail/Patagonia became Montrail/Nathan, and Patagonia started a small grassroots team. Rod Bien and I were the first one’s to approach Patagonia to inquire about a team after the Columbia buyout. I was stoked to be representing Patagonia. They’ve always been true to their athletic core and are a very eco-conscience company—hard to find in today’s corporate structure. Plus, their gear is bombproof.

This year’s competition was a little deeper than last year. Last year, Ty Draney was my main competition. This year Ty was back from a stellar 3rd place finish at Wasatch 100 last September. He had stomach issues at Bighorn last year in the heat. I had told him to switch from E-caps to S-caps for his electrolytes and he had after Bighorn last year and hadn’t had any stomach issues since. Me and my big mouth! Oh well, I can’t help it. I’m such a geek; I like to share the love!

I knew he would be tough and unlikely to repeat his issues from last year. John Hemsky from Colorado and Sean Andrish from Virginia were entered, both men having fast times in other 100-mile races. Sean being the faster of the two. Also, Matt Sessions from British Columbia, who I later found out, was gunning for the course record too.

The 2006 Race Begins

At the start, Andrish went out like a rabbit. Ty and I had discussed this before the race. We knew he had a tendency to go out fast and either runs really well, or blows up—we were expecting the latter because everyone underestimates the course at Bighorn. It’s deceptive. Most mountain 100s in the west have 20,000-26,000 feet of ascent/descent. Bighorn only boasts 18,000. But the course is remote, the singletrack is super narrow (6 inches wide, rocky, with ground foliage covering 50-80% of that), the terrain is exposed, and the long climbs take their toll. Plus, everyone has to night run due to the 11 am start.

As we let Andrish go running up the first major climb, Ty and I settled into 4th and 5th place, in a chase pack. We were power hiking and talking about “conejo” (Spanish for “rabbit”) or joking in a Yosemite Sam voice, “I hate rabbits!” We were joking and hiking as Andrish pulled slightly away. It was early to be running so much on such steep terrain. I knew what was coming.

Soon we reeled in John Hemsky and moved into 3rd and 4th. Now only Sean Andrish and a ponytail dude (someone we didn't know) were in front of us. The ponytail dude was losing ground to us and we couldn’t see Andrish anymore.

As we neared the top of Tongue River Canyon, you run along a fencerow. The fence is a natural line and has a faint trail you run on. However, shortly after running along the fence, the course veers right across a meadow, which is a heavily flagged section to quickly gain a ATV road and top out the first climb. This is were Ty and I took the lead last year when the leader missed the turn and followed the fencerow. We were approaching that spot when we noticed Andrish and the guy in second going up the fencerow, past the flags! The curse of the fencerow had struck again! Unbelieveable!

Sean had notice his mistake and was heading back when we started up the meadow in the lead. They were maybe 4-5 minutes behind us now. Not much, and we fully expected Sean to catch back up soon. As we took the lead, Roch Horton ran to the front just to have the luxury of saying he’d lead the race. He was cracking me up. I looked forward to seeing him at this race. He’s a tough dude. He’s 48, and still runs 4 or 5 100s a year and finishes in strong times. I hope I’m as tough as him at 48. He’s an inspiration.

We topped out and headed down to Upper Sheep Creek Aid. We came into this aid in a group of 4 or 5 runners, with Sean only about 3 minutes back; Matt Sessions in 3rd place with another guy back 100 yards from him. Ty and I made our way to Dry Fork Aid at mile 13.5 by 1:38pm. This station is the first drop bag spot and our first point on the course where we’d see our crew.

I had planned on running drop bag to drop bag, with only quick stops at other aid stations to refill bottles and grab a mouthful of fruit. I had pre-filled Amphipod waist packs with my gel (Gu) refills and also pre-filled 24 ounce bottles at the drop bag locations consisting of one water and one Gu2o sports drink. Ty and I cruised in talking and laughing and he surged into the aid station to jokingly be in the lead. He’s a cool dude. I’ve really enjoyed getting to run with him the past three 100s I’ve done.

The Colonel (Sean Meissner) was waiting for me with my waist pack and my bottles. He walked with me as I switched gear, weighed in, ate some orange wedges and a bit of banana and Ty and I left together descending the 4WD road to Cow Camp.

The heat was starting to hit on the way to Cow Camp. The haze had blown off to make way for blue skies with a few scattered puffy white clouds. We arrived Cow Camp at 2:40pm and cruised on together to Bear Camp, arriving at 3:55pm.

I had planned on skipping Bear Camp and only refilling water this year, as it’s a remote aid station where they backpack in the supplies. The food is processed stuff (wheat thins, M&Ms, and pretzels usually—stuff that won't go bad and they can easily pack in). I was planning on doing only gels though that section. Ty and I were in and out in probably 20 seconds and we were working together to pull away from the rest of the pack.

Ty is a really strong downhiller and we are pretty compatible runners, pace-wise. We descended the steep 3.5-mile section from Bear Camp to Footbridge in 33 minutes and arrived at the Footbridge at 4:28pm at mile 30. I was feeling the heat and feeling a little bonky coming into Footbridge.

I was sick of the Gu2o in my bottles and hadn’t drank enough in the last hour and a half and decided to switch back to only water and leave my pre-filled bottles in my drop bags I also had opted to ditch the Gu2o refills and bars I had in my waist pack and only proceed with gels. Less weight, and it wasn’t agreeing with me anyway.

My lack of hydration showed as I weighed in at 147 (ouch, my pre-race was 153). They let me go without a word, but I knew I needed to bump up my liquid per hour and get back on track or it was going to get ugly.

Ty and I left together, but I was fading a bit. He pulled 40 yards ahead and we quit talking. I soon had to make a pit stop and I lost contact with Ty. This next section to the Narrows aid proved to be my lowest point, as I tried to drink a lot and not slow down too much.

By the time I hiked into the Narrows at 5:35pm I was feeling better, as I had downed 48 ounces in less than an hour. I quickly downed two cups of broth and headed out 3 minutes behind Ty. The next section is 6.5 miles and uphill to Spring Marsh had been a slow section for me last year. I ran out of water in '05, but was prepared with bigger bottles this year. I plugged along trying to keep up on my hydration and get back ahead of the bonk curve. I downed another 48 ounces in less than an hour and refilled at a creek crossing.

The water comes right out of a cliff band above and it’s clear as a bell and rushing down the hillside. Oh, it’s ice cold and so tasty. I filled both 24-ounce bottles, chugged 12 ounces and topped it off again. I got out of there and back to my hiking and running transitions as I made my way to Spring Marsh at mile 40.

I arrive at 7:10pm to find Ty had increased his lead to 8 minutes. I wasn’t freaked out yet. We still had a long way to go. I relaxed and kept forward progress, as I didn’t want to start pushing too hard, too soon.

I made Elk Camp by 8:00pm, downed a bowl of Raman and headed out 8 minutes behind Ty. Good. His gap was holding steady. I just wanted to keep him within 10 minutes and I figured I had a good chance of closing the gap after dark on the downhill back to the Footbridge.

As I pushed to the turnaround, I was feeling a blister on my right heel. I was wearing the Nike Kyotee and they were rubbing a small blister, nothing terrible, just annoying. The shoes are light, cushy and neutral. They were proving too lightweight and flimsy for this technical course. Plus, I had rolled my ankle slightly 3 times on the first major descent. I was nervous for the upcoming 17-mile night descent to the Footbridge, as it’s even more technical. Luckily, I had a plan.

To be safe, I had my Mom carrying an extra pair of shoes, Montrail’s Leona Divides (now discontinued…but, I have 4 pair at home in the closet to be safe). The Leona has been my racing shoe for 3 years with no blisters or issues. They aren't very cushy, but super stable and bomb proof for my feet.

Not only was the blister bothering me, my heart rate monitor strap on my chest was bugging the me. I had recently pushed it down around my waist. I was planning on ditching the HR monitor and switching shoes at Porcupine.

I was also interested to see where Ty was. This is one good thing about an out and back course. You get to size up your competition at the turnaround. I made my way across Devil’s Canyon Road (1 mile from the turnaround). No Ty. I crossed the road, and descended the meadow to the dirt road (a half mile out). No Ty. Sweet. I was about a quarter mile out and met Ty on the dirt road at 8:53pm. Nice. He was not that far ahead. We did a little high five as we passed. I knew Ty would be hammering once he hit the downhill past Devil’s Canyon Road. He’s super-competitive and he would make me work my rear off to catch him.

I approached Porcupine Ranger Station hollering out instructions to my Dad…

“Ditch the empty Gu packets in my bottle pouches! Refill bottles with cold water! I can’t stand the Gu2o mix! I’m not using the bottles in my drop bags, just water! I need my other shoes too!”

They shuffled me into the Ranger Station shed, which was packed with people. I was so focused I didn’t even see who was there. I wanted to get in and out. I weighed 156. Three pounds heavy. I’ll take it. I was retaining a little water from salt intake and abundance of water I consumed on the climb to get my hydration caught back up. But, it was paying off, I felt strong.

I guess the Footbridge had radioed Porcupine about my weight loss, because the aid station captain kept probing me, “You’d tell us if something was up, right Jeff?! Are you feeling okay?”

Giddyup! Bronco Billy wants to ride, aid station lady! (I didn’t actually say that, she would have thought I was delirious and pulled me for sure.) I was definitely ready to roll. Now Ty was the conejo.

I ditched everything but gels in my waist pack, put on my lights, as my mom threaded my iPod headphone chord through my jersey. I quickly swapped my orthotics into the Montrail's, downed two cups of noodle soup, tied an extra long sleeve jersey around my waist and left at 8:57pm with fire in my eyes and 10 minutes to make up.

On my way back and over Devil’s Canyon Road, I started thinking about how I should try to catch him. I decided to run smooth and relaxed in the fading daylight and not push too hard until Spring Marsh. It would be dark by then, that 10-mile section from Spring Marsh to the Footbridge is technical and I had confidence in my light set-up for hammering downhill at night. The Petzl Myo XP on my head and the Tikka XP around my waist. It’s really bright and allows smooth, non-bouncing, hands-free light.

Due to family time conflicts with my wife and kids and running my own business, I’ve found a good time to train was at night after the family was asleep. I had run 2-3 hour night trail runs nearly every Friday night from 11pm until whenever. Plus, various night maintenance runs during the week pretty much all year. I was very comfortable functioning at night. I figured I had a slight advantage, so, I needed to use it.

On the way to Elk Camp I met the 3rd place runner, at least 5-6 miles back. Good. Not close. I just needed to focus on Ty. I had to switch on my lights a couple miles before Elk Camp.

As I started to pass runners coming up, they kept giving me time differences. However, this is an inaccurate way to gauge because they are hiking uphill and we’re running downhill. I love that everyone tries to help, it’s super cool, but I knew not to rely on this info. For example, I had a runner tell me “he’s 15 minutes ahead,” and 100 yards later another runner said “4 minutes.”

I was relying on the aid station captains with the clipboards. However, I passed Tim Turk (from Ashland, Oregon), who gave me a