Never Summer 2019 - What an Adventure!

Again, long read.  I advise jumping ahead to where the race starts😂.  I'll put a header.

I finished Never Summer 100K last year with seven minutes to spare before the cutoff.  As I did each of the difficult climbs, I celebrated being done, never having to do it again.  When Rick and I drove away from Walden, we said goodbye to the area for good.

Rick remembers it was on the plane on the way home that I announced I wanted to do Never Summer again.  We love going to CO to acclimate and play the week before.  In the hotel at the airport (early morning flight), I'd been looking at other 100K's in Colorado.  Never Summer had the largest field by far.  Usually I like smaller races, but there is something very comforting in knowing that almost 400 other runners are out there.  While I was alone for stretches, it wasn't for hours.  With a rugged course in the mountains far from aid, that goes through the night, it helps knowing that there are people. Also, even though I would be happy simply finishing again, I was fairly sure I had a better time in me.

My training went pretty well.  My back was slightly more temperamental than the previous year.  Before group runs, I tried to have time to run a mile or two before so that I wouldn't have to deal with a numb/altered feeling quad.  I hated to have the group have to stop or slow because of my leg.  At least I didn't have any big time loss due to the back really losing its shit.  Weekly acupuncture and babying seemed to keep it manageable.

Last year's big time suck was two-fold, but mainly due to my not being properly prepared.  Just after mile 29, the weather changed suddenly.  We were subjected to wind, rain, hail, and lightning at altitude.  I was in shorts and a tee with my Trail Monster sleeves left from the morning cool.  I was amazed that everyone else had jackets with them.  I struggled, freezing in the elements.  Three other runners made sure I made it to the check point halfway between aid stations (not really an aid station, being so remote, but they walked down to a lake to get water to treat for those people who really needed it).  I stayed there trying to warm up, but really thought I was done.  There was nothing left to do, but get myself down to the next aid station where I was sure I would drop.

The sun came out, I kept moving, I warmed up.  I was ready to keep going when I got to the 39.3 mile aid station, Clear Lake 1.  Leaving Clear Lake 2 after dark, I chose not to put on all my cold weather clothes from my drop bag since I was warm from the Clear Lake climb.  Dumb.  I struggled with cold again.  It cost me almost an hour at the next aid station.

Forward to this year.  Rick gave me a rain jacket for Christmas.  I had sort of directed him to it.  Check that off.  When it came to packing the drop bags, I put way more cold weather gear and clothes in the Clear Lake bag.  I told Rick I would put on the long pants (didn't last year), the winter top, and winter TM hat and gloves.  He would have a fleece vest at Canadian, the next aid station, in case I needed more.

We flew out a week early like last year.  We even had the same condo in Breckenridge.  While enjoying the trails and scenery at Breckenridge, I compulsively checked the weather for Never Summer.  It seemed to vacillate between temps in 50s in the day to mid 30s at night wtih a period of scattered t-storms in the afternoon and temps in the 60s in the day to 40s at night with a longer stretch of scattered t-storms.  I know looking doesn't change anything, but I couldn't help myself.  I really didn't want to get caught in storms like last year, but I did feel like I was prepared, at least gear-wise.

It was hard to say goodbye to Breck.  At least there was the race to look forward to and Nathan!!  The drive from Breckenridge to Walden, where we were staying, was just over two hours.  The race start was a good 25 minutes from the hotel.  Rick is a pro at the drive by now. We arrived in town at noon, three hours before hotel check in and race packet pickup.  Part of  killing time till pick up was lunch at the bowling alley.  Being three peaters, we knew all the spots.

The mountains all around looked stormy.  Get it out of your system!!!

Finally, at 3pm, we checked into our room.  There had been a mix up when I did the online reservation.  To remedy, they upgraded us to one of the 5 suites.  Nice!  We laid out my drop bags.  I made last minute adjustments and we headed to packet pick up.  It didn't take long.  We didn't hang around for the pot luck dinner.  We had nothing to add and wanted to just settle in.  I did ask, Nathan hadn't checked in yet.

So, the first time we stayed at the Inn, Jedi, Ann, Squirrel, Pete, Rick and I had our dinner in their restaurant.  None of us were particularly happy with the quality.  Squirrel thought it ranked right up there with the worst she'd had.  Second time, Rick and I avoided it for bowling alley food, but I felt like there wasn't anything healthy about it except the size.  We did however do our celebratory finish dinner at the hotel.  They must have gotten a new cook/orderer.  The waygu beef hamburger still may be the best I've ever had.  We decided to try our luck there again.  It was certainly the most convenient; walk down the stairs.  Well, there was no waygu beef on the menu.  It wasn't bad like the first year.  It would do.

Back in the room, we were really surprised to hear loud music.  Walden has always been really quiet.  I waited a bit before going down to the desk to find out what was going on.  The woman said it was from the bar next door.  She'd go check on it.  I didn't even know there was a business next door.  I thought it was vacant.  She said they were winding down.  I peeked in the window before heading back to my room.  It was a BBQ joint I guess.  I didn't see any customers or people at all.  The music stopped shortly after 9pm.  I wonder if the people closing just had music on to close.

After the music stopped, I fell asleep fairly quickly.  I slept soundly till 12:45.  Sigh.  I heard dogs barking, traffic, dogs, and more traffic.  Again, there was no noise previous years.  That day Rick would discover that one of the windows were open, but we didn't know.  I went in to the living room and finally fell asleep on the couch about a half hour before the alarm.  It's ok.  I don't need much sleep.

Get dressed, eat one and a half of the bagel and peanut butter I'd made the night before, take the bladder of Tailwind from the fridge and put it in my pack.  Rick had the car mostly loaded, but takes down another bag or two.  It's not a sky full of stars, but there are patches.  Don't hit any moose or cattle on the way.  Last year Rick dropped me off at the road in to the start and parked at the state park a bit of a walk down the road.  This year, the parking situation appeared better.  He dropped me near the start and followed the volunteers instruction to parking.

I immediately went to check to see if Nathan had checked in.  There was race day packet pickup allowed.  He'd gotten it last night.  OK, now it was all eyes looking for Nathan, well after a stint in the port-a-potty line.  Though long, it moved fairly fast.

Rick was somewhere surveying the crowd for Nathan.  I kept scanning.  Then this guy came up and said hi.  It took a few seconds...Nathan!!!  Without his glasses and fairly covered up cause of the morning chill, I wouldn't have picked him out.  Some how he was way taller, too.  Glad he found me 😊  I saw Rick, pointed out Nathan, and we made our way to our start position.

The Race

I think there was a countdown.  I remember that even though we placed ourselves toward the back of the large group, we were able to run to start.  Not fast, but that's a good beginning to an ultra, the warm up.  I welcomed Nathan's company beyond words.  It's so weird to be a runner among 400 an know no one.  In Maine, we know most of the runners.  But to have Nathan!!!  I'm not even sure how many years ago he left for Arizona.  Being me, I talked.  A lot.  But Nathan was fairly chatty, too!  I pointed out where I saw a moose last year.  Oh, no.  It was there.  Well, maybe there.  I was telling him what was coming, but it turns out he'd come and run this stretch not long after last year's race!  

As much as I was enjoying his company, I knew he should be running faster.  I had to pee any way, so it was a good time to say bye.  Have a great race!!  Back from peeing, we were getting into the climb of the first mountain.  Yup.  




I was surprised to see snow before the first peak.  It wasn't tons, but some of it was a little deep.  We went through some, but there were large patches not on the course.  The first year there was only some near Kelly Lake.  Besides the steep climb of Diamond, it was the only scary section for me that year.  It seemed like one false step and you'd slide a thousand feet down into the lake.  Jedi had two big horn sheep blocking his way on the snow that year.  It made me wonder what that section would be like this year.

Lake Agnes is somewhere in the first 11.4 miles to the first aid station.  I think the first year I didn't look at the scenery until Agnes.  It was stunningly beautiful.  There's always a photographer taking pictures just after the prettiest part, but I think to get it, he'd have to not fit the runner in the shot.  I made sure I was running even though I hate the scree.  Immediately after was a short, but steep, snow patch to navigate.  The runner before me tried to run/walk vertically.  Too much ice from the previous runners.  I announced to the people behind me that I would be sliding on my ass.  The announcement was more so they would give me time/room to get in the sliding position.  Most that followed chose the same method.  Yes, my butt was semi-scratched by the granular snow, but I didn't fall and mostly kept the slide in control!

I haven't mentioned the weather yet, but it was feeling pretty perfect.  The overcast sky was keeping it much cooler that last year.  Yes, it is Never Summer, but 60's in bright sun can seem pretty hot at altitude.  Everything is more intense at altitude.  By the time I pulled into the first aid station, I was happy to see they still had PBJs this year.  I had a couple 1/4s, had them add probably 16 - 20 oz of water and grabbed two of my Tailwind baggies out of my pack to add.  In and out fairly fast.  Just another 6ish miles and I'd see Rick(!) at the first crew/drop bag aid station.  

I'm not even sure I remember the climb after the aid station.  You might think going from 10, 400' to 11, 250 in under two miles would be memorable.  Not in this race.  I do remember the long down to the aid station.  It's only at 9,600'ish.  You'd think, or I always think, that it would be easy to run the entire down.  Previous years, I've had trouble running some of the steeper, loose rocks terrain and then just some of the time you still need to catch your breath (oxygen).  This year, I was better at the downs.  The wetter course helped make the trail more packed.  There was still the need for oxygen.

I'm not sure where it happened, but my lower back had a zing cross it.  It almost spasmed, but didn't.  Shit.  I did not want to have my back go south out here.  I thought about the climbs combing up.  Sigh.  I just had to relax and pretend it wasn't a possibility.

Rick!  I grabbed a PBJ square before going over to him and my drop bag.  Nathan laughed at me having water in my drop bags (he saw the next morning when I picked mine up).  Yeah, cause they won't have water at the aid stations.  I do it for two reasons and I don't feel bad about the weight in the bags.  Compared to most people, I put very little in my bags.  The water is to make sure not too much of the water in my bladder is the treated water.  The taste of it, while better than drinking bacteria(!), turns my stomach if it's too concentrated.  Here I was able to add almost 24 oz of bottled water.  Then Rick added the tailwind.  He helped me slather on sunscreen because maybe a half an hour ago the sun had come out.  It was strong.  He walked my way since he had to park on the dirt park road that I was taking out.  I would then do a very short stint on paved road, not even a half mile and the only paved road, before crossing to the next trail.  A kiss.  See you in 12 miles.  These 12 miles include the highest point and the steepest climb.  I knew what was coming and was ok with it.

Or so I thought.  Almost as soon as we put our feet on the next trail, the skies started to look...interesting.  Last year, I missed any weather on this climb, also the longest exposed on a treeless ridge.  There'd been thunder, but I could tell it wasn't on our mountain.  As I neared the steep climb, I was worried.  I could hear rumbling.  I could see ominous clouds.  I couldn't tell which way things were moving.  Getting nearer and nearer to no trees.  So fucking steep.  More thunder.  Maybe five trees to go.  I tried telling people that it might not be safe, but some of them seemed to be under the impression that it wasn't that far.  Not far, but a hell of a long time.  We'll be exposed for over an hour.  Two?  What am I going to do?!!?

I recognized the guy waiting at the very last tree.  I'd talked to him last year.  He was the oldest guy last year and I the oldest woman.  This year he still was, but there was another woman a year older than me (by the way, she finished!).  He lived in Fort Collins, CO.  He was trying to figure out weather the storm was coming our way or staying to the whatever the hell direction that it was in.  He said he'd already been waiting there 5 minutes.  Maybe 6 or 7 other runners kept going.  I stayed with Marlin, assessing.  After maybe another 5 minutes, he said he thought we were good.  OK, I was going with him.  I was not going to be out here alone.'

The first year, I crawled this 56͒ ° slope and sat whenever I needed to rest.  I was certain I would fall off the mountain if I stood.  Last year, I was proud of myself to be able to ascend on two feet.  I had stowed my poles feeling like they would cause me to fall off the mountain.  This year, maybe because I was so focused on the weather, I was already poling on super steep stuff before getting to treeline.  I didn't even give it a thought as we pushed up.  I wasn't stopping to breathe.  Adrenaline, you are an amazing drug.  

More thunder.  Closer?  Yes.  We kept climbing.  Fuck.  Fuck.  Fuck.  Marlin wondered out loud about the storm.  We started to get wet.  Some hail mixed in.  Fuck.  Flashbacks to last year.  We both put on our rain jackets.  Should we keep going?  Then we see someone coming down at us.  He's waving his arms.  A park ranger.  They've closed the peak.  Anyone up there was told to get down as low as they felt they needed to.  Follow the side of the mountain and rejoin the ridge when it's clear.  We were relieved and scared all over again.  How low did it look safe to go.  There was some rough terrain to get to trees.  Making our way on the side of that super steep slope was dizzying.  Marlin said to look at the clouds.  Whoa!!!  Do not fall off the mountain!  From then on, I would make sure I turned towards the mountain no matter where I was ultimately looking.  We saw that many had dropped from the top to about 1/2 the distance to our contour.  It felt like we were being sheltered by the mountain, that most of the storm was on the other side.  Ok, safe to move to the ridge?  We thought so.  Plus, it was truly hard being on that much of a side slope.  To the ridge!!!

 As we returned to the flagged trail, the storm seemed to move off.  I helped Marlin stow his rain jacket, he mine.  Yay!  We could run again.  We seemed to move at about the same pace.  Oh great.  I needed to pee.  I couldn't remember to go before I'd be above timberline for hours.  I mentioned my situation.  Marlin looked behind us.  No runners in sight.  And we could see a long way.  There's a cairn.  He wouldn't look.  Good with me!  

Look over there.  It's definitely raining.  Oh, now that same rain's on us.  Jackets out and on.  We continue on.  Look over there.  That's the storm that was just on us.  As we ran, we could see another t-storm was forming, but we would make down to the trees before it hit.  And did it hit.  Here's where things are very jumbled up.  Was I in the scary, scary close lightning and hail before or after the hard, hard downpour?  The close storm produced a lightning strike closer than anything I've ever experienced.  When it hit, I screamed.  Loudly.  The guy ahead of me didn't even hear my scream over the din of the storm.  

Mud got slick.  Trails became real rivers.  There was a trail that should have been fun running.  Instead it was a test to see if you could remain upright.  It was on just enough of a side slope with the slickest of mud.  If I didn't have poles, I have been horizontal quite a few times.  One or two runners behind me did not have poles.  I heard their splats :( One rugged ATV trail down became a reddish brown river of mid-calf swift water.  I actually ran well in the river.  Can't see the bottom?  So.

There was an aid station in there somewhere.  Just before was when Marlin and I split.  We said bye, or see you soon, I think.  I wouldn't see him again till breakfast the next day.  He really helped make Diamond doable for me.

Not long before I came into the Ruby Jewel aid station the sun came out.  Hallelujah!  I think I flooded Rick with lightning, hail, and rain babble.  But what do you need?  Something to warm up.  Hot chocolate.  The aid station was slow on the warm stuff.  Who would think you'd need hot drinks at 2:40pm???  Rick brought me their first try.  It was basically luke warm, dirty looking water.  I drank it anyway.  All the cocoa mix was on the bottom.  I sent him for more, hoping this time the water would me hot enough to mix the cocoa in.  Better, but not good.  Rick was going to help me put my rain jacket in my pack, but I was worried it wouldn't dry.  I was supersaturated.  My hat dripped in my eyes.  We tried to wring everything out.  Nope, with the sun out I'll wear the jacket to try to dry it.  Rick thought I'd be too hot, but I could stow it later if necessary, but if it didn't dry, it wasn't going to do much good if there was more rain.  

And I'm not going on the next stretch if we get more lightning.  Rick said he was leaving to go back to the hotel (he doesn't see me again till mile 50), it was sunny, it looked good.  Ok, I'm going.  I thought back to last year.  This section was nearly my undoing, but it had looked bad from the first step onto the trail then.  

It was warm.  I made my way up a steep ATV type trail.  All the memories coming back from last year.  Oh no.  I hear rumbling.  Clouds are coming from nowhere.  Keep climbing.  I don't think the jacket is drying, but I am getting hot.  I try tying it around my waist, but it interferes with the poles.  I stuff it back in the pack.  I shouldn't have done that.  Weather is coming.  Again, I'm getting to where I have to make a decision.  I'll be without cover for a while.  It looks like I might be able to make it.  There's a sharp line between bad weather and sun.  How fast is the storm moving?  It makes me move pretty well here.  I'm by myself.  My adrenaline is flowing freely.  Keep moving.  I'm on the edge of the storm.  Hail begins to pelt me.  I swear my toes are in sunlight.  Stay ahead of it.  There is lightning and thunder, but I think I'm ok.  I get to the snow field above Kelly Lake.  Still hail hits.  It's pushing me across the treacherous wall of snow.  Wow!  Look at how deep people post holed.Thank you leaders for finding those pitfalls!  Still there precious little places to safely plant my feet.  It's funny to be thankful to make it to more scree.  OK, storm, I'm almost to trees.  Whatever.

Wow, by this time last year, I thought I was done.  The high altitude storm had nearly cause hypothermia.  I was feeling pretty satisfied.  Was I a little shaky from the hours of adrenaline.  Maybe, but I knew what was ahead.  I'd be coming to the little water/number taking spot soon.  They have a couple people who haul and treat water from Kelly Lake for people who really need it.  They also take numbers and tend to runners who are in need.  Last year, they tried to warm me.  When I said I needed to throw up, they said that's a great spot.  Nothing seemed to phase them.  As I approached, I saw a familiar face.  Are you Devin??  He was.  I thanked him again for tending to me last year.  He said I was looking great.  I said I was feeling great.  Just 5ish miles to the aid station and it was all down hill.

I was already planning coming into Clear Lake.  I would do the out and back to the lake without more than checking my water.  Then I'd hit my drop bag for all my warm clothes.  Last year I warmed up so much going up to the lake, I didn't put on my long pants.  I paid for that mistake.  This year, all my warm clothes were going on.  I promised Rick I would.  

Still the rain fell.  My stomach felt rotten.  My throat sore.  I started to cough.  Remember that I'd had my back threaten to spasm.  The coughing brought the threat back to the forefront.  No, wait, my stomach threatened to hurl.  A real wretch.  Oh, back, do not.  I couldn't run.  It was downhill and I couldn't run or I would throw up.  That might not be the worst thing to happen, except it made me think my back join.  Without being able to run in the rain, I started to get cold.  The cold made everything tighten more.  I just need to get to the aid station.  I wish I would have changed my mind about my Garmin.  I had decided not to use it until I was leaving Clear Lake for Canadian.  Last year, no one had any gps by then.  I had brought a charger, but the rain and hail made the connection impossible.  This year, I decided I would just use it as a watch till the night.  It would have helped so much to know how much farther to the aid station.  Though I'd done this stretch twice before, it was so much longer than I remembered.  I was fighting crying.  The guy behind me was groaning so hard and often I wanted to hit him. I'd been back and forth with him for most of the race.  He was terrible on ups, but really good on downhill.  I tried to encourage him to pass me on one of the steeper downs.  I think he just groaned.

Finally, finally, the aid station.  I need to get warm and I'm probably going to throw up.  They put me in a tent with two other cold runners.  One was also fighting throwing up.  A very capable, kind aid station volunteer told me I needed to get out of my wet things.  I have warm stuff in my drop bag.  She fetched it.  I told the guys to close their eyes and changed.  They'd given me two blankets.  The only thing I could think I could tolerate to put in me was hot water.  I still shivered.  They added a space blanket.  The rain on the tent increased.  I did cry.  I was now in my only warm clothes.  If I went out, they'd soon be totally wet.  I could not see me getting warmer.  The night would belong and cold,  especially if I couldn't run at all to warm up.  They had a truck ready to head back.  I made the call.

So, the year I felt like I should do the best, I dropped even before I had the first year when I had no business to be running that race.  The truck bounced us on a long, crazy "road" out.  By luck, we passed by Rick, already in position at Canadian.  They let me out.  I started to fill Rick in on the rest of the story as we made our way out of the park.  It was light enough for there to be a spectacular rainbow.  

Back at the hotel, I was almost warm.  A hot shower helped.  I could even eat Rick's leftover half sandwich.  A little thought crept in.  Did I make a rookie mistake?  I had never taken a salt tab.  Just because I wasn't hot, didn't mean I was sweating.  Electrolytes are important for your stomach being able to absorb.  Did I make that mistake??  I was already telling Rick that I needed better gear.  A real grown up pack and way better rain gear.  It didn't take long before I was asleep.  But not before Rick had checked; Nathan was still moving well!

The Next Day

We knew we wanted to go to the post race breakfast to see Nathan.  We knew he finished and did well!!! Again, he found us.  He had already eaten by the time we got there, but joined us for our breakfast.  We traded some stories.  He made fun of my rain jacket.  It really would have been fine for last year.  I need to spend some real money on a quality jacket and have more options is drop bags.

Nathan said he couldn't believe how many people had done the race more than one.  He wouldn't recommend it to anyone.  Well, unless they like to run straight up and down.  Wasn't it beautiful?  Yes, but there's plenty of beautiful races.  Hmm.

We enjoyed his company through breakfast, the awards, and then almost everyone else leaving.  I wish we had much more time with him.

Back at the hotel, I started thinking, mulling, and pretty soon Rick said that didn't take long.  Last year, I was on the plane before I decided I needed to come back.  I thought 2020 was going to be Run Rabbit Run 100 miler.  Nope.  Never Summer for me.  I want to end it on a good note.  I have learned so much.  And why would someone do it more than once?  It challenges all my weak spots.  It has me out of my comfort zone early and often.  And, yet, because of NS, my comfort zone is growing.

Never Summer 2020.