My First Hellgate

“If you are going through hell, keep going.”

~ Winston Churchill

There was nothing normal about this experience. Certainly, normalcy is not an attribute of mine. Hellgate is not a normal 100K, in distance or demeanor. My training leading up to the race was anything but normal. The weather was not normal. My strategy was not normal. What a wonderfully weird day!

 

The race was a beginning, in that it was my first ever Hellgate. I will readily admit that the last time I had such race related butterflies was for my first ultra ever. Hellgate just has such an “aura” about it, and I had seen it, without experiencing it, twice before. The race was also an ending. It was the end of The Beast. While I could not say I was confident, I can say I was hopeful I could finish this off. Nothing short of death would cause me to DNF my way out of The Beast at Hellgate! The race also marked the end of an eventful year for me, both on and off the trail. Lastly, several friends were of the (mistaken) opinion that the end of the race would mark the end of facial hair for me 🙂 … more on that later.

Chipper signed on early as crew / designated driver. I had been filling in for her the last 2 years, but I had taken the only honorable way out of crewing by registering for the race. At the last minute, we had two unexpected surprises: Booman was crewing too (very fortuitous for all) and El Toro could not race (this was an unfortunate, but warranted turn of events). So, Chipper, Spuds, Booman, Mr. Bimble, Loopy, and I set out for Camp Bethel. Other than road closures due to flooding, late starts, etc… the trip was uneventful. Dinner at the camp was unusually good, and the pre-race briefing was entertaining as always. David Horton has beaten the adjective “special” to death regarding this race, but it is TRUE. I hope Hellgate never changes. The drive to the start, expertly managed by Chipper, included our team plus Mike, a guy who Loopy had met and run with last month at MMTR. We assembled for the cold but not frigid start as prayers, and the Canadian and “real” (Horton’s term) National Anthems were sung.

At 12:01 AM we were off. Things started happening fast. Too fast. I could not believe the pace. I struggled to not lose sight of Loopy and Spuds. Nobody ever told me the start was like this. Flat, good footing, wide. For quite a way. I tucked in behind Loopy, refusing to allow a gap to open. In less than a mile, I saw Spuds blur and disappear, never to be seen again. Mr. Bimble I never saw at all from the word “go”. I was determined to follow Loopy closely, as I wanted someone with experience near me. I had told her before the race that I planned to “hang” with her, and she seemed very skeptical. By time we reached the first aid station, I was praying that I would manage to keep up with her. So, Loopy, Mike, and me formed a group of three and moved along, with Loopy leading the way, as Mike and I were both first-timers.

The trail quickly changed to “up”, and stayed that way, seemingly forever. AS #2 provided an opportunity to see Chipper and Booman, and get a report on Mr. Bimble and Spuds. Then we began the long slog up to the highest/coldest point on the course, the infamous Headforemost Mountain (AS #4). It was during this period that I began to wonder whether or not I would be able to keep Loopy in sight. We saw the crew again at Headforemost, and it is amazing what a friendly familiar face can do for your spirits! Booman and Chipper were awesomely helpful to us even while focusing on their “official” charge, Spuds. MANY thanks to both of them.

Past AS #4, my pace slowed, and my doubts increased. My lower right leg started developing severe pain, and I also needed to follow a side trail, both very bad signs. I bid adieu to Loopy, and told her I was hopeful I would see her later. I am not even sure she heard me. I got back on the trail fairly expeditiously, and decided to sprint to catch Loopy and Mike. I think that may have been my best decision of the entire race. I locked on to them in less than 15 minutes, and stayed there.

 

We were comfortably ahead of the cutoffs at Headforemost. Loopy announced that she was well off of her blistering pace from last year, but OK. That sounded good to me. The trail stayed challenging, but interesting, with a lost of variety, and sections of the Terrapin and Promise Land trails provided a little bit of comfortable familiarity. Loopy handed me breakfast when we arrived at Jennings Creek. Yum! We reached Bearwallow Gap a little past 11 AM, 1.5 hours ahead of the cutoffs. I took 4 vitamin I caplets there to dull the pain in my right leg. We saw Chipper and Booman, and off we went. It was in the next stretch that Loopy suffered the letdown that I suffered after Headforemost. Now it was me setting the pace for a while. She urged me to go ahead and “run my race”, but in reality, I was giving it everything I had. We pressed on, with all of our spirits dimming a bit. I started doing some bad math and wondered whether we might miss the cut-off. Sometime during this time, Kerry Owens (a Beast Finisher too), who had been back-and-forth with us many times, passed us quickly, indicating that she had some concerns about the cut-off too. This just made me worry more. We struggled our way to Bobblet’s Gap, possibly my favorite aid station anywhere (Spirit of 76 at VT is another contender, as is the Carlson Station at The Bluff… never mind, I guess I like ALL aid stations!). Logic told me, and I tried to convince Loopy, that the stretch from Bobblet’s to the last station, Day Creek, would be “easy” because it had to be mostly downhill. Unfortunately, experience told Loopy that they don’t call this section the Forever Section for nothing!

It did take forever. It is easily the cruelest part of the race. We got through it, but we were suffering from doubt, dehydration, delay, and maybe a little dementia as we pulled in to Day Creek. Loopy, a little bit alarmed by her condition and the lateness of the hour, didn’t even stop. My hydration pack had run dry miles ago, so I had to stop. She moved right on through walking up the final big three mile up hill. Mike and I caught up with her shortly thereafter, and she insisted we go ahead. I was very reluctant, but she was very slow, and we briskly walked away. Once we crested the ridge, with a three mile downhill to the finish, we debated continuing the walk or running slowly. We need not have debated. I had finally realized there was almost enough time to walk to the finish. My ibuprofen had worn off, and all I wanted was a finish.

Suddenly, only a few minutes later, Loopy came roaring past me and Mike. She was, as we say specifically for her, “on fire”. She was getting away from us! Mike seemed to be able to fall in behind her quickly, but I could not. The gap opened. She called back to me several times: “are you OK?” and I grunted “yes”. I decided to not tell her to “just go”, because I was afraid she might do just the opposite. Clearly, she wanted to break 17 hours. I decided that if she disappeared, so be it, and I would just do my best. Finally, the legs that had grown cold and still on the uphill loosened up, and the pounding downhill beat my leg pain to an “11” at which point you really don’t feel it anymore. We hit the smooth dirt road with 1.5 miles to go, and I finally was able to match pace. Mike fell back a little. The “one mile” mark arrived, and Loopy picked up the pace again. That is the longest mile on the planet. Once inside the camp, we backed off just a bit and saw Booman cheering us in. And then, it was done. David Horton was there to congratulate us, as was Clark Zealand. We collected our Hellgate and Beast schwag, hit the showers, and headed out.

 

The traditional Saturday night meal in Staunton was fun, and well deserved. We all toasted with our Bimblers back in CT, at least in spirit 🙂 Sunday morning we hit the road, and were home before dark.

So, here I sit with no future races paid for, a situation I have not known in over a year. No firm plans for races next year. Actually, no firm plans for much of anything. Except the beard…

POSTSCRIPT: This is the first race where I have experienced the help of Bimblers from afar, at aid stations, and on the trail. I heard a “WOOHOO” at 9:18 AM which I assume had wafted down from East Rock. Was that you, Snobody? I received aid at the stations, most notably from Booman who loaned me his glittens. Lastly, and most importantly, I had the amazingly good fortune of running as part of a team, something I have never done during a race before. Loopy and I took turns pulling each other through the tough parts, although she did most of the heavy lifting. Thank you one and all.

 

POST POSTSCRIPT: I ran this race for IGGY, and I did my best to project some of the amazing views back along the same channel that carried the WOOHOOs southward. IGGY, did you see it? It was beautiful.