The Bear 100 Mile

Logan, UT   September 28, 2018

Once again I found myself needing a Hardrock qualifier so I perused the q-list, turns out it was The Bear’s turn.  The Bear 100 has a reputation of being a very low key race but also a very well managed one, perfect. This year was the 20th edition. It also has the reputation of being a very tough one that takes place among the Wasatch-Cache Mountains on the Utah / Idaho border having a cumulative elevation gain of 22,518 and a similar loss of 21,676 feet.  It also has my favorite layout - a remote point-to-point course, it starts in Logan, UT and finishes in Fish Haven, ID on the shore of Bear Lake.  Looking at the elevation chart confirmed that it was going to be tough on a flatlander living at sea level, but “what the heck… let’s do this.”

Elevation Chart.

Believe it or not I also like the training for these things, but this time my training was “confusing”.  What started out ok after coming off a busy winter of running and a planned few months of low maintenance suddenly hit some sour notes when it came time to turn up the volume, it was like I was playing with an old warn out tube amp, things kept shorting out. The oldies but goodies tour included a medley of “greatest hits”......  my lower back, right hip, right hamstring, left knee, left quad and finally a touch of tendinitis in my lower left shin.  WTF?  None of these niggles were too bad on their own and I was able to continue in sort of “maintenance mode” but I needed more high volume rock-n-roll. Well somehow in the end I was able to get through those things and get some decent training runs over the last two months.  Of course that was over the summer heat and humidity of east Texas.

Anyway in the end I did find myself in Logan on the start line of The Bear, the low humidity and cool crisp air feeling so great.  Once again, this time I was going it alone without a crew or pacer so I sent three drop bags ahead to the aid stations at about miles 25, 50 and 75 just typical stuff, gels, clothing options, lights, batteries, etc. I like going as light as I can, but since The Bear is very remote (in the 100 miles we crossed a road twice and never saw a town the whole way) with aid stations spaced at about 8 to 10 mile intervals, I had a jacket and gloves for the night tucked away in the hydro pack just in case.

Looking back on the first climb.

The run starts at 4,800 ft elevation with about 5,000 ft of cumulative climb in the first 10 miles hitting 8,800 ft elevation along that stretch, this part went ok since I was fresh. Once up on Logan Peak an hour or two later the sun came up and you have a nice view of Logan. The 40 deg tempurature was a nice change from Texas, I was in a singlet, arm sleeves and gloves, dressed perfectly. Once it warmed a little I took off the sleeves and gloves and stored them in the pack.

As you can imagine, running through the mountains in the fall, the scenery among the aspens, red maples, pines, etc. was simply amazing. Being right in the middle of all the color just as the sun was coming up was really cool. To continue with my bad music-inspired metaphor, it was psychedelic.

The Colors.

However after the first aid station while dropping down the 3,500 ft into the next valley one of my “greatest hits” decided to have a revival, the tendonitis in my left shin about 3 or 4 inches above my ankle started bugging me. Damn, I was thinking at the time that I wasn’t even 15 miles in, this isn’t going to end well.  However I was also thinking that I’ll baby it and run and hike as smoothly as possible and hopefully I could keep going… and maybe it will loosen up and go away.  I came all this way and I was going to get as far into this run as I possibly could.  Too much at stake. So I kept going favoring my left leg, eating and drinking on schedule and just trying to keep moving along.  It was a huge distraction and required all of my attention, especially on the down hills when I’d hit a wrong footfall or kick a boulder it would send searing pain up my leg.  On the seldom flats or slight inclines I also found that I couldn’t push off or stretch my foot down too much or it would strain and zing me again.  The darn thing was like a governor keeping me dialed way back, which maybe in a way was a good thing.  The only good news was that it didn’t bother me while climbing, and there was plenty of opportunity for climbing ahead.

Some flat trail.

So that is how this run was going to be, a total distraction with babying my left shin, total concentration on how I stepped and stretched, and that sharp pain when I lost concentration. Crap.

I also should mention that I was pretty worried that the pain was going to be too much and I could be doing some serious permanent damage if I managed to keep this up for 85 more miles. Just a little something in the back of my mind.  So that’s pretty much how the whole run went; going up shin was ok but damn going up is hard work....  then going down shin sometimes killing me if I made a wrong step…. then go slow and smooth on any flats.

Even with all that “crappy distracting music playing” I was still able to see some beautiful views, the fall colors were amazing and the vistas really nice.  The trails were absolutely fantastic, mostly single track and ATV trails with some dirt roads thrown in there. People ask me why I do these things, the Bear delivered on some of the most important; exploring trails that locals want to show off, seeing cool stuff, the adventure, testing your ability and resolve, etc. There were lots of these boxes checked off around each turn or over each mountain.

Runners.

I just kept moving along the trails as best as I could, sometimes my shin pain would actually go away.  At each aid station I rubbed ice on it trying to massage and relive the pain and swelling (plus I took a few Acetaminophen). And even with all this going on I was holding on to my A goal pace up to the Right Hand Fork aid station (mile 37). Then I slowly started falling behind that pace, however keeping a very close eye on the overall cutoff times.  The toughest climb was on the 2,600 ft steep climb up to the Tony Grove aid station (mile 52) after the sun went down. I spent a little extra time at Tony Grove to resupply from my drop bag.  But not too long as I was trying to hang on as long as possible to a 3 hour cushion ahead of the cutoff times. The temps cooled off considerably at this point and I put on an extra layer, but the careful foot placement continued and the pain zinging calmed down some but there was a dull pressure always there. Maybe the cooler temps helped numb it a little.

More runners.

During the night I was mostly going it alone, keeping track of the trail markers helped to distract me from the shin. I was also on the lookout for wild life, making sure I was making noise so I wouldn’t surprise a black bear, moose or cougar.  At one point I surprised something that I heard running away, most likely a deer. Soon after that I heard a faint breathing sound off to my left – what the hell is that???  I made a lot of noise and it went away, but then down the trail there it was again.  Ok I admit I was getting creeped out. When I heard it again a while later I was even more freaked out. But finally the breathing sound was a little louder and lasted a little longer, but I was able to put it together, I think I was hearing very faint thunder way way off in the distance. Anyway at least that’s what I think the original breathing sound was… far off thunder.  By the way the sky above was totally clear and filled with bright stars.

The climbing up and down continued, I met some other runners at times trying to hang with them to pull me along up the climbs.  The climbs at this point were more frequent but thankfully a little shorter and a little less steep. The early morning hours were tough as I was getting sleepy from the shin pain and concentrating so intently rather than zoning out while running along, and it was getting very cold in the valleys. It was good when the sun came up and I got in to the Beaver Lodge aid station (mile 76) where I again I had a resupply drop bag.  I even had a little warm chicken broth that one of the aid station folks gave to me.  I got some gels and cookies out of my drop bag and took off again. Turns out that having the drop bags at mile 52 and 76 which I hit at about 10:30pm and then 8:00am worked out great considering the time of day and the elevation profile.

More colors.

Next was the climb up to Beaver Creek Summit which was ok, but included a very steep but thankfully short climb the top which was rough and I was glad I had fuelled up just beforehand. It was the first of the last three climbs, late in the run and on the second day.  There was a lot of figuring out timing, energy expenditure, fueling, drinking, going on, but mainly just trying to keep moving.  At this point I was just making sure I kept a steady forward movement, whether going up or down.  I knew I had some margin on the cutoff times, but that could vanish quickly.  I should also add here that I could also feel the effects of the higher elevations during the climbs of the second half of the run. When I’d get near the top elevations and it was steep my heart would pound a bit, sometimes I’d take a little break to get it to slow down some.

Finally I hit the last 9,000 ft peak, the Gates of Paradise, the only problem was the huge 3,000 ft plunge at the end that had to be negotiated. My shin was a dull roar at this point, but manageable, I wasn’t looking forward to the plunge though.  I’ll add that at the best of times I’m not a good downhill runner, this was not going to be good after 95 miles, second day, 30 plus hours and one and a half legs…

But the Bear did have one last treat for us, about a third of the way down the plunge you hit a little ridge with an amazing view of Bear Lake and the mountains on the far shore, framed by the aspens and red maples in their fall glory, ya almost wanted to tear up. But then again it could be that you knew the finish line was down there!!!

The Lake.

By the time I got to the bottom my shin was not happy, but my knees weren’t happy either so at least it was spreading out.  That was a long sustained killer of a downhill with way too many boulders jumps.

Well I managed to get back to civilization but those last few relatively flat miles seemed to take forever. I also want to say that all the folks I ran with were so great, very friendly and we offered support and anything that we were carrying if our fellow runners needed it. This usually happens but during the Bear due to the remoteness it’s amped up a lot.  I think I was returning the offers and greetings to every one and of course I managed to say thanks to the aid station folks who were all simply fabulous.  I just hope I didn’t come off as grumpy since I had a lot of distractions out there.

So…. finally I walked it in with another runner and his pacer and we hit the road along the lake and made the last right turn. I waited at the turn for a few seconds for the other runner and his whole family to cross the finish line and then ambled the last stretch to the finish line.

I finished in 35:00:07, an hour before the 36 hour cutoff. Hardrock qualifier in hand.

Thanks for reading,

Sandy

The Buckle.

P.S. As I write this it’s 3 days after the finish, my shin is a little bit sore and pretty swollen, but is not bright red like it was just after I finished.  Ice and rest are good.  It’ll be fine in a week or so I’m sure.

I took one look at the profile and wondered if these were the Sawtooth Mountains with so many sharp peaks. Sounds like the race was well managed both from an organizational perspective and the race you ran.  With your Hardrock qualifier you can relax until the lottery.

Well done, Sandy. I hope you get into Hardrock in December!!

Nice job Sandy...thanks for sharing.  That sucks about your shin but way to tough it out.  A Hardrock qualifier, hmm does this mean you are not going to try to get in WS?

Nice job on difficult course. I run w/o pacer or crew and Its good to hear others do even on a tougher course.  Look forward to the HR RR next summer.

Sandy that is just incredible.  The pictures were just beautiful and makes me want to do it but then I wake up and realize it would be too hard for me.  I'll live vicariously through you all and stick to the flat ones.

Nicely done Sandy!  We have several of our local runners that have run the Bear- all said it was a very challenging and these folks run in the mountains regularly

Takes some true grit (just like John Wayne! ) to run a 100 miles without any niggles, let alone having one so early on.

Hope you make it into Hardrock.

Treadmill Hound: Thanks and yeah, I’ve done more of these things w/o crew or pacers than I have with.  Let’s hope I’m writing a RR next summer.

Gatsby: Yes I’ve had the shin tendonitis before, not very often and it usually goes away quickly as it did when I had it a month or so before the race. It just decided to come back at the wrong time I guess. And the breathing sound was creepy, I still have no idea what it was, maybe even a “hearing hallucination”. Thanks.

dhuff: Thanks, the course was really nice. I miss cool crisp fall air with the fall colors.  We just get a day of the leaves doing a “brown and down” thing here.

XT: Thanks. Yeah it was grinding hour after hour. Every once in a while it would go away and it was such a relief. The swelling is way down now, but the stiffness and pain when I stretch it are still there – getting better thou. It feels sort of like shin splints now and has that “creaking feel” when I move it.  Yes it certainly was a tease to be able to see the lake shore as it looked kinda close, but you also knew that it was still over an hour away.

mt: Thanks.  I was sucking wind on a few of the late climbs, I guess living at 85 ft elevation doesn’t help in these things.  I was joking with one of the runners that I can drive for an hour or so and get to a 75 foot hill to train on. Nike Duke reference!!!

DD: Of course the elevation profiles make it look worse, but there were some rough spots. Going down wasn’t a picnic either. Thanks.