I was exhausted, tired and dammit my feet hurt. I was trudging through dry grasslands not sure of why I had even decided this was a good idea. I was in the foothills of the mighty Santa Rita Mountains South of Tucson, walking along the Arizona Trail bound for Kentucky Camp, under the shadow of Mount Wrightson and just a couple small towns and a few dozen miles from the Mexico border. I had put myself through an ordeal and at the end of the day had absolutely nothing to show for it except a stinging, biting DNF. No, this was not the 2013 Old Pueblo Endurance Run, I am rewinding back to April 2011 when I thought it would be a great idea to enter myself in the solo “foot” division of the Arizona Trail 300 – an endurance mountain biking event held annually on a 300 mile stretch of the Arizona Trail from Parker Canyon Lake to Superior. I thought if I had a light enough pack and slept only a few hours here and there, I could make the trek in just over three days, maybe even beat some of the bikes. Instead, I had traveled 65 miles in about 20 hours including 4 hours of sleep shivering on the side of a frozen dirt jeep trail with only a thin space blanket between me and the elements. There was a nasty 12 mile road walk between Patagonia and Sonoita and I was not having fun. I didn’t have the drive or desire to continue and called home for a ride at Kentucky Camp, the site of my AZT300 drop. This was all in stark contrast to my first time at the Old Pueblo 50 Mile which turned into a redemption run for me this time around.
Driving South out of Phoenix is quite different than driving North. The highways North of Phoenix weave up into the mountains, lending immediately to higher RPM’s and higher elevations. The highway routes were blasted out of the mountains, sometimes clinging to cliffs, bridges spanning over canyons and leading towards the pines. Not so heading South. The road to Tucson is flat, straight, maybe some say boring in comparison. I zone out as I leave the large metropolis of Phoenix behind, but soon find my mind wandering towards the wide open landscape. Although I’m not driving through the mountains, my sight is upon them. I look to the right and see the dominating, rugged and jagged knife edged ridge of the Sierra Estrellas rising several thousand feet out of the Gila River valley. Memories take me back to an ill-fated attempt at a traverse. To the left are the San Tan Mountains, the site of our San Tan Scramble race and some great memories. A while later I look left towards Pinal County and the Superstitions. I am surprised as I cross the Gila River and approach Casa Grande that I catch the glimpse of snow capped peaks to the SouthEast. I can already see Mount Lemmon and the Santa Catalinas. After a bend in the highway, stark Picacho Peak comes into sight in the distance, memories of my younger scouting days ebb and flow through my mind. The ropes and chains to the top of the peak are a lot of fun. Soon enough I am in Tucson and I make my way over to the packet pickup and straight on through to the small town of Patagonia about 20 minutes from the race start.
I ran in to Lisa Ann Kravetz and Susan Kramer at packet pickup and they offered to let me crash in their hotel room in Patagonia (I chose to join them in lieu of camping in my truck at the start). I joined them at dinner at the Velvet Elvis pizza place and I drank a couple of Breckenridge Vanilla Porters before heading off to bed.
Can you spot me? I’m the idiot with no shirt on.
I awoke the next morning after a good nights rest and drank a bottle of Vitargo and a little coffee before heading over to the starting line. We had to pick up our race bibs there at the start, so I pinned mine on and lined up shirtless at the frigid start line (there was still snow on parts of the course!).
Photo: Lisa Kravetz
We took off in the pre-dawn darkness and I immediately let a front pack of about 10 run away ahead of me as I settled into a comfortable rhythm. I was excited to be running this race for the first time and I wanted to run smart and have fun. I chatted with Chase Duarte who I believe was also running his first Old Pueblo – hard to believe considering he lives in Tucson. I ended up running with Oracle resident Nate Polaske back and forth for about the first 17 miles as I let the front pack of Todd Braje, Michael Carson, Korey Konga and others duke it out, hoping to pick up some of the carnage later in the day. The course was a mix of dirt roads, single track trail (Arizona Trail) and sandy washes for the first 13 or so miles and mostly downhill. It was easy to keep things rolling and Nate asked more than once if I thought the pace was too quick. I commented I wasn’t breathing hard, so it should be fine. It was cool out so I drank my first sip of water around mile 13 and took until 19 to polish off that first bottle. Thanks to a hearty meal the afternoon before, I also only ate a couple gels the first 20 miles.
Early miles with Nate
I was surprised by the climb and subsequent giant downhill around mile 17 and savored the awesome views looking North towards Tucson. I was feeling good and it was a great day to be running in the Santa Rita Mountains. The scenery is high desert grasslands and very unique. It has a very old west cattle ranching kind of feel to it and I was digging it. Mount Wrightson (high point of the rage) was even snow capped to boot.
Pack leaving mile 25
I caught back up to lead female Polly Campbell and a couple other runners as we made our way through the mile 25 aid station in something like 3:25 elapsed into the race and worked together up one of the biggest climbs on the course. While the other 3 ran every step of the climb, I mixed in a fair amount of walking whenever I felt like I was redlining. It almost felt like I was just screwing around, taking walking breaks haphazardly. Whenever I ran again however, I quickly caught the pack. Coming into the mile 29 aid, just before re-entering the Arizona Trail section our pack caught up to Korey Konga and another runner. Several of us were still together at mile 33 where Korey finally sat down for a break (he had a sloshy stomach) and Polly took off ahead.
I at some potatoes and salt and gave chase. I finally caught up to her on a technical section of trail, not one of her strengths. I passed her and soon was winding through a wash. I caught a glimpse of Michael Carson up ahead who was in 2nd place at the time and thought to myself, “Crap how am I catching him, he shouldn’t be here!”. He was having a rough day with nutrition and said he started to quick. It was nice to have familiar company (we’ve paced each other at several hundred milers) and we joked about trying to stay ahead of the surging Polly.
We passed some guys shooting guns and on a steep climb that we were content to walk up, we yelled back and encouraged Polly who was just crushing up that thing at a full running gait. Coming into mile 40 aid, it was all 3 of us together and I saw this as an opportunity to make a move. I slammed a Red Bull, ate a handful of potatoes dipped in salt and took off fast. This next section was a gradual uphill on a dirt road that meandered back and forth through the forest. Energy drinks in ultras are glorious! I wanted to get out of sight of them around a bend so they didn’t know where I was at. I succeeded and soon felt the hot Arizona sun beating down. Fortunately, there were some snow banks on the side of the road and I repeatedly grabbed some and placed it on my neck.
The next section became surprisingly technical and there were abundant stream crossings. I at some point didn’t really see any footprints on the dirt road and wondered if I was still going the right way. I consulted my map I had folded in my pocket and I was still good. I came into the final aid at mile 46, ate some blueberries and potatoes and just happened to ask as I was leaving how far ahead the leader was. They replied that I was in fact the first through! Turns out the leader Todd Braje had gotten very lost somewhere past mile 40. This got me pumped and I took off for the finish at Kentucky Camp.
Running Scrappy in board shorts
The final couple miles were hot and I just keep dumping water over my head and looking over my shoulder. The worst part about this race is you can see the finish line from about 2 miles out, but then have to keep running AWAY from the finish before dropping into a series of canyons to bring you back up there. I was looking over my shoulder the whole way until I got sight of the end and cruised in for a 7:42 victory. Michael Carson was just a few minutes back and Nate who I ran with early on ran a smart race for 3rd. The amazing Polly Campbell crushed the women’s course record to finish in a time of 7:55 and 4th place overall.
I went into this race with little expectations, ran my own race and disregarded much of the advice one might follow in a typical race: I didn’t take salt caps, didn’t wear a watch, no shirt at the freezing start line, drank very little, had a carefree attitude about the whole thing and went in on minimal training. Sometimes experience and a little scrappy running pay off! I was quite pleased and honored to come away with first place in this historic AZ ultra.