A night out at the Savoy

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The Prologue:

With so many good running options last weekend — the Gorilla run, the West Rock Challenge, and the Savoy Mountain 22 miler — I had trouble deciding where to run. A few weeks earlier, I had pretty much sold Catamount and Diana on the idea of heading to the Berkshires for some pre-race camping and Savoy. But my motivation flagged on the heels of a stressful week, so as race-day approached, I had to borrow some of their enthusiasm to forge onward.

Because the decision to run Savoy was last-minute, the only nearby campground with availability was an RV park replete with several “amenities” (bocci, a pirate climbing ship, even street signs) that I found frightening as a lifelong frequenter of remote state forest campgrounds. With the park’s permission, Diana and I had brought our dalmatians. But the proprietor of the establishment welcomed us with barely concealed disdain for them and threatened to throw us out if they barked. Needless to say, I talked up their camping resumes and easy-going personalities (even though our younger dog was actually a camping virgin inclined toward barking, so I didn’t know how she would do). After pitching our tent, we escaped the compound to take a beautiful hike near Tannery Falls, a part of Savoy Mountain State Forest that I wouldn’t visit during the race. Upon our return, we discovered that a golf cart was trolling the campground waving a huge red, white, and blue flag announcing the bingo planned for the Rec. Hall that evening. Shortly thereafter, Catamount arrived and joined us for dinner (we opted to forgo bingo in favor of wine and pre-race conversation around our campfire).

[singlepic=6669,280,200,,right] The evening was beautiful and cool, a first delicious taste of fall, which I drank in with active excitement after the withering heat of the past two months. I was shocked to find myself digging for long pants and a sweater. Later that evening, when Catamount and I took a foray to the rec. center to use the facilities, Catamount discovered an arcade alcove complete with a disturbing “Big Buck Hunting” game, where you shot images of deer with a large, plastic orange rifle and watched their death throes as they fell to ground. He demonstrated a disturbing prowess at this game, even winning a bonus round in which he demolished pheasants instead. My skills seemed better suited to the Exotic Driving game, where you zoomed a low-rider across a Martian landscape while attempting to avoid various spaceships and geographical obstacles.

The rest of the evening was uneventful. The dogs behaved beautifully, and we turned in to a crisp night in the not-quite-woods (Catamount opted for posh van camping instead). In the morning, we fired up the camp stove, slurped down some coffee, and organized ourselves to drive to the remote race site. Luckily, we had found the start area the previous day, so had no problems locating it again.

As Catamount and I gathered with the other runners at the starting line, we talked about writing a race report together, so I hope you enjoy reading about our experiences.

The Race:

HE said (Catamount’s perspective on savoring and suffering Savoy mountain)…

I was very disappointed about stopping with one, 11-mile loop of the Savoy Mountain course. This was not just because I was stopping short of a race goal–that was somewhat frustrating, but Savoy Mountain was never a target race for me. I was sad also because of how MUCH I enjoyed the course! Despite one unpleasant aspect of the experience, the many virtues of the course–which reminded me at times of the Bash, Cockaponset, Miller’s Pond, and Soapstone–make Savoy Mountain one of my favorite races. I definitely plan to run it again next year!

The race has 22.2, 11.1, and 4 mile options. The 22-miler–as you’d expect–is 2 loops of the 11 mile route. I liked these options for a couple of reasons. First, 22 miles is a significant distance not much shorter than a marathon–likely to mean at least 4 hours of running at my pace. This ratio of hours running to hours driving made the 2-2.5 hour drive very worthwhile. Second, the race has officially offered the option to stop after the first 11-mile loop while still counting the race as a Grand Tree finish. For me this was good news, since I was coming into the race with jumpy, very sore hamstrings following an overly enthusiastic week of speed work.

But the course itself is the best reason to run this race. Distracted by hamstring pain, I don’t remember the details of the course in exact sequence. But I loved it for standout features it shares with my favorite races and local venues. The race start and finish were located in a grassy area with picnic tables near the woods around the Savoy North Pond. After a loud gunshot to start the race, we dashed into the woods down narrow single track into a thick canopy of hardwoods and evergreens, and I was instantly pleased with the initial look of the course. I told Nadia that the first section felt a lot like a starting West Woods run from the Dunk Rock trailhead. Also like the Bash, the course was challenging and hilly, with lots of twisty turns, several creek crossings, and a handful of unavoidable, ankle-deep mud bogs. (In a fashion that would make Mr. Bimble proud, the race director had told us at the start “trail conditions out there are perfect!” Indeed!) Like Cockaponset especially, I often noted how lush and beautiful the woods were, covered in many places with green blankets of tall, arching ferns. As Iggy once remarked of Cockaponset, sections of Savoy were a “biophile’s paradise.” Like Miller’s Pond, there are lots of moderately sized rolling hills; in fact there is hardly a really flat stretch in the whole race until some brief stretches of forest road near the end. Like Soapstone, there is one significant climb up a big hill. Though the hill is neither as tall nor as steep and exposed as the one at Soapstone, a couple of parts were harder to navigate. Just following that climb there is a really outstanding view–somewhat like the view from Bear Rock at Miller’s Pond–of miles of surrounding mountains. After descending the hill I got the feeling of “returning” through the lush, winding paths, and of running downhill. The downhill sections were manageable and great fun, and became faster as they opened onto a section of dirt road near the end of the curse. The course ends as runners exit the woods, run past North Pond — which is great for a swim after the race! — and up a straight asphalt path (which made for lots of strong, fast finishes and photo ops) back to the picnic area. Overall the course is challenging and very enjoyable!

[singlepic=6678,280,200,,left] The one negative experience–which I hesitate to mention–was that several significant stretches of the course were overgrown with thick and often very thorny plants, so that for minutes on end, one would be running straight through a heavy, thigh-high blanket of greenery that was mature and still enough to leave lots of deep scratches and some bloody cuts. Scratches and slices of this sort are part of the routine for trail running, no doubt; but this was beyond the typical round of cuts and scratches. I had dozens of slices across both shins and thighs, and Nadia, who did 2 loops, obviously had it worse than I did. However, it surely was not enough to dampen my overall enthusiasm for the fun features of the course! I highly recommend Savoy Mountain!

SHE said (Nadia picks up the story again)…

Yes, those brambles were hideous! I was so sliced up that I had to wear long pants to work all week, so my clients wouldn’t be freaked out by all the criss-crossed cuts on my legs.

I was sorry to lose Catamount’s company around mile 4.5, when he needed to address his hamstring problems, but I forged ahead, enjoying the scenery and the delightfully runnable trail surface. I was solo most of the time and concentrated on what Diana calls “running within myself”–staying relaxed and focused and in touch with the pace that felt right to me, regardless of what others were doing. I loved the cool weather (60’s) and was relieved that my sore knee and hip were cooperating so well. At the mile 9 aid station, it was a big lift to see Diana (and our two waggy pups!) and to chug some of the watermelon-banana-peach smoothie she had ready for me. She told me I was the fourth woman so far, which I almost didn’t want to know, since I liked experiencing the race without the pressure to try to catch people.

As I passed through the start area for the second loop (at 2:03), I applied bodyglide to my stinging shins and thighs, as my biggest concern was facing another onslaught of those evil plants. Diana told me I was now the second woman (as two of the others turned out to be 11-milers) and that the other was only a few minutes ahead, but I tried to hold on to my internal focus, rather than thinking about chasing her. Eager to escape a bramble zone I’d entered, I picked up the pace and had a blast leaping streams, cornering turns, and blazing down an exciting long descent.

At the mile 16 aid station, one of the volunteers shouted “no pressure but the first woman is about a minute ahead of you!” I pushed on through the long, gradual climb to Spruce Peak, working hard and tiring but staying steady, reminding myself that it would be mostly downhill after the summit. As it started to get steeper, I finally caught a glimpse of the first, much-heralded runner, who had slowed as she climbed the final series of rock scrambles up to the peak. At this point, my competitive instincts kicked in, I powered up the climb using hands and feet, and found myself passing her right as we crossed the bald rocky summit (I didn’t take time to take in the view on this go around!).

[singlepic=6676,280,200,,left] Then came the highlight of the race…excited by taking the lead (and completing the climb), I launched down the summit’s technical back side at a rip-roaring, exhilarating, barely-in-control speed. It felt almost effortless, like I was in some magic zone where my feet instinctively found all the right lines without any stumbling or hesitation. My quads should have been burning, but instead I felt like a wild animal running free in the woods and I remember thinking, “Oh, this is why I keep signing up for these crazy races.” When I eventually hazarded a look over my shoulder, the other runner was nowhere in sight.

I was happy to see Diana and the dogs at the mile 20 aid station, but I didn’t stay long. I was still moving fine, but fatigue was setting in (in my haze, I very nearly missed a turn). My quads were starting to feel iffy and I was a little concerned my legs might rebel, as they had at Northern Nipmuck. Fortunately, I soon came out of the woods onto the North Pond road to see Diana and Catamount cheering excitedly. I crossed the finish line at 4:04:12, and was happy to see that my second loop was faster than my first. My prize for winning the women’s race was a pint of plump blueberries, which we cracked into immediately (though I found myself wishing they were already in blueberry pancake form). Instead, I braved a scary-looking tofu dog, said my goodbyes to Catamount, and gratefully plopped into the car for the ride home.

For me, Savoy was a blast and a very worthy Bimble.