An adventure in the mountains.

I’m always looking for running events that will challenge me in new ways. One of my biggest fears is fear of complacency; getting comfortable & no longer growing. With that in mind I signed up for the Never Summer 100k held at State Forest State Park in Colorado. The race is about 60 miles west of Ft Collins in a remote section of wilderness that bumps up to Rocky Mountain National Park.

The rumors of this race being a 100k that runs like a 100 mile race is true. It is remote, lots of climbing and a 24 hr cut off. I knew going into it that I would likely need all 24 hrs to get it done. The race starts at 9,000’ and goes up from there.

I signed up for this race with my friends, Alisha & Jen. Matt & I drove out to Colorado with dogs & camper in tow, and camped with Alisha & her husband, Wade, at the Ranger Lake Campground. We arrived the Thursday afternoon before the race.

Saturday morning arrived and the race started at 5:30 am. Our campground was about 2 miles from the start & we arrived with just enough time to snap some pictures, and listen to the pre-race briefing.

With headlamps on, trekking poles attached to our packs, and a mind ready for a day on the trail, the race started. The first few miles we trucked right along on a two track trail with the slightest amount of grade. We were chatting & moving well. Soon we came to the first big climb of the day which would take us up 7 Utes peak.

It was cool, but clear & we were right on our anticipated pace. I don’t know how many times we’d stop & say “it’s so pretty!” The views were amazing.

I had been battling a head cold for the week leading into the race, and even though I was getting good sleep, taking all my vitamins & laying low in the days prior to the race, I still wasn’t 100%. I’d periodically have to stop & cough on the climbs and I simply couldn’t attack the climbs like I wanted to without my heartbeat jackhammering in my chest. I felt like I was having to climb so painfully slow to maintain a consistent effort. And while we were spending a lot of time around 10,000’ on course, I was struggling. I didn’t feel like myself at all. I couldn’t get my mind right. I’d have thoughts of DNF (did not finish) and I would catch myself and override those thoughts with a mantra- I am strong, I am capable.

We arrived at the first aid station at 11+ miles on track, but feeling a little pressure to get to the 17 mile aid station ahead of the cut off. We had just done a ton of climbing & knew if the next section was anything like what we just did, we’d be hard pressed to get there in time.

The next section climbed some, up to a beautiful section of high alpine meadow, but then it was a lot of downhill where we were able to gain some time on the cut offs into the next aid station. I was continuing to struggle and told Alisha & Jen to go ahead & I would meet them at the aid station.

I was only a min or two behind them when we got into the 17 mile aid station where Matt & Wade were waiting for us. This race is tough to crew with how remote the aid stations are & the narrow gravel roads to access them. Many aid stations are hike in & as a result we weren’t planning on seeing Matt & Wade the rest of the day.

We left the 17 mile aid station, and after a short jog up the road, turned onto a two track trail & started climbing. The clouds were starting to build around us & we could hear thunder somewhere in the distance, although it felt ominously close. When we turned onto the trail, the course marshal warned us not to climb too high if there was lightening. Not knowing what was ahead, being well within tree line & only a few sprinkles we climbed on. The climb continued & we would go from sprinkles to sun with rumbles of thunder. Jen & Alisha were climbing stronger than I was and were up the trail but still within sight. We turned off the main trail & headed straight up what seemed like a game trail, my mile split times were continuing to get slower. I was having to stop more often to catch my breath. The thunder continued to rumble & clouds were building. We continued straight up the mountain - literally, so steep that I was at risk of falling backwards if I leaned back at all. I was using my poles to help pull myself up & going one slow step at a time. I was starting to get worried, I was red-lining my effort & this wasn’t even what was considered the hardest part of the course. I was near tears. I was definitely outside of my comfort zone. We were coming out of the trees, still climbing straight up when an course Marshall/first responder told us to not go over the summit of the mountain we were climbing, but to skirt around the edge of it. This still required another couple hundred feet of going straight up the face of the mountain. We saw the area he wanted us to take, but it was still exposed, and the clouds were getting even thicker. We had to go along the side of the mountain, it was so steep that my right hand could touch the ground next to me. One wrong step & it was a long way down. The rocks were loose, and you weren’t sure if the step you took would hold. The rocks scattering down the mountainside were echoing my thoughts of how dangerous this was. But we had to keep moving forward. We could see the open saddle we needed to cross & the trail ahead, but it was still all above tree line & completely exposed to the elements. After 45 min we got across the mountain & were making our way across the saddle when the weather really started to deteriorate. We stopped and put on our jackets & kept moving as quickly as possible. I just kept thinking we need to get out of here. The thunder rumbled, then the lightening strikes & then the hail & driving winds. We had to take cover. We went over the edge of the ridge, still above tree line & hunkered down. The pounding hail was incredibly painful. We sat down, trying to make ourselves as small possible while the worst of it passed. The hail let up & we continued on in the driving rain. We needed to get to that next aid station. We needed to get below tree line. I was freezing & soaked to the bone. The wind was still howling & even with gloves on I couldn’t feel my hands to hold my poles. We finally get to a section of trail where we are protected & the rain lets up some. I am on the verge of tears again & desperately needed to get my wet gloves off my hands. My hands are so cold they won’t work. Luckily Jen helped get my poles on my pack & handwarmers out just as volunteer showed up & said the aid station was just up the trail.

We scurried into the aid station, and shaking I was escorted into a warm vehicle. I could not stop shivering. The car thermometer read 43 degrees. There were 4 other runners hunkered down in the truck too. We were all chilled to the bone.

I was done. Ready to turn in my number and call it. I had thought for sure there was a cut off at this aid station and they’d be pulling me anyway.

Soon Alisha showed up outside the car & said she was going to go down to the next aid station 6 miles away. I was still shivering uncontrollably & it was still raining. There was no way I could go with her. There was crew access at the next aid station & I texted Matt & Wade to meet her & Jen there. I was planning on calling it at this aid station. I was in no shape to leave.

Cell phone service had been very limited in the area & I happened to have perfect service at the aid station. I texted a few friends & tried to warm up.

The other runners in the truck were talking about heading down to the next aid station. It had stopped raining & the sun was coming out. From what I understood, if I stayed at this aid station, it would be a couple of hours before I could possibly get a ride back down the mountain to the finish & then I would have no service & no way to reach Matt to tell him where I was.

I ambivalently decided to go with the other runners to the next aid station 6 miles away. I texted Matt I was on the way.

The sun was out & this section of the course was mostly downhill. I started running & actually felt quite good. The temp started to rise & I was drying out. I even took off my jacket. I chatted with some of the others who were in the truck & we’d all been stuck on the ridge in the storm.

My body & legs actually felt really good, but my mind was done. I was happy with my decision of dropping and enjoyed running in the final few miles.

Two miles out from the aid station, the sky opened up & it started to hail... again.... because if there was any doubt I was going to drop, this was the nail in the coffin. Two hail storms in 30 miles, and I was plenty happy to go back to camp and call it a day.

I pressed on to the aid station, in the hail, thunder & lightening, but at least this time I was well below tree line. Jen, Alisha & the guys were waiting there, ready to get out of the storm. Jen & Alisha has missed the cut off at this aid station by 2 min. We were all calling it a day.

I have no regrets. I got everything I was looking for - a hard effort, pushing the edges of my comfort zone & an incredible experience in the mountains.

Until next time… -Kate

At the starting line. Kate, Alisha & Jen

Some steep climbing on the way up Diamond Peak

Less than excited about the second hail storm of the day. This was when I was hiking it in at the end.