Next Saturday, I'll participate in the Pike's Peak Ascent. Although this is a running race, I hike it (due to mutliple lumbar and cervical spinal fusions). This will be my "hike" next Saturday and my tenth consecutive year. The ankle injury will increase the challenge
Our own Grandmaster Perry has run the Pike's Peak marathon (held the day after the ascent) and finished in the top ten twice. In short, he's absolutely amazing.
About the race:
The course starts in Manitou Springs at (6,295 feet or 1,918 meters) and ends at the top of Pike's Peak (14,110 feet or 4,299 meters).
The distance is 13.32 miles and the net elevation gain is 7,815 feet 2,381 meters). The average elevation grade of the course is 11%.
I'll start at 7:30 AM in the 2nd wave. The first 1.7 miles are mostly on paved city streets. The course then connects to Barr Trail and follows Barr Trail to the summit of Pikes Peak.
For the next 3 miles to French Creek (4.3 mile mark and 8,800 ft), we traverse along the east face of Mount Manitou up switchbacks and steep grades. Being in the second wave, it's common to come to a complete halt at switchbacks due to the crowd. I tell myself these small breaks due to "rush-hour hiking" will pay off later.
Since this is a race, aid stations supply water and Gatorade Endurance. I just carry carbohydrate gels and obtain fluid at the aid stations. As a result, I can travel very light and hike faster than usual. The Barr trail is also in excellent condition -- much better footing than Mt. Whitney.
For the next 3 miles we traverse through evergreens over to Pikes Peak. The grades of this section are gentler and even include a couple of downhill sections. The end of this section is Barr Camp (7.6 mile mark and 10,200 ft).
On the 3 miles from Barr Camp to the A-Frame we again encounter steep grades and have to negotiate rocks and boulders along the trail. The final 3.1 miles or 5K from A-Frame (11,800 ft and 10.2 mile mark) to the summit (14,110) is entirely above tree line and the toughest portion of the course.
My most interesting experience on Pike's Peak was in 2005 -- the 50th anniversary of the race and my 7th year. When I hit the A-frame, dark clouds and the clap of thunder suggested the weather would throw other challenges our way in addition to the altitude and cumulative fatigue.
I was minimally dressed (running singlet and shorts) as I produce a lot of heat when I climb. In these conditions, I knew I had to keep moving to avoid hypothermia. The time between thunder claps decreased and the sky became darker. I didn't see lightening flashes, which was initially reassuring. Early on in this section, however, I was nearly blinded and deafened by thunder and lightening that hit high up in the rocks to the right of me.
It rained a little then stopped. At the last aid station, 1.5 miles from the top, we started getting pounded by hail. It felt like someone was throwing pebbles at us. In between the loud thunder claps, I could hear guys swearing. One kind fellow gave me a poncho that was as thin as the plastic bags for produce. Another generous man helped me put it on because my hands were so swollen. (I learned my lesson in 2005 and now carry a long-sleeve Patagonia shirt and gloves.)
Once the hail started, I think most people became more concerned about survival than their finish time. It grew progressively colder towards the top. We were pummeled by hail, staggering due to altitude, and slipping and sliding on the wet, icy, rocky trail. I alternated between keeping my hands under the poncho and pulling them out to support myself on rocks as we climbed. It was also difficult to see and navigate due to the weather. My heart went out to a volunteer who was jogging down carrying two bags of sweats for runners who were too cold to move.
I finally hit the final set of switchbacks (called the golden staircase) and crossed the finish line in 5 hours and 9 minutes. My friend Lynn (who finished in 4:36) and her husband Bruce (our guardian angel) grabbed me and we headed into the station house for the Cog railway so that I could put on my fleece outfit and warm up. We were stranded at the top until the snow plows could clear the road.
The inside of the station house looked like a refugee camp. Shivering runners were huddled together -- standing, sitting, and sprawled out everywhere. Bruce worked his way through the race carnage and brought back the last two hot chocolates and a bag of barbecued potato chips. The three of us shared the bag --best tasting chips I've ever had.
Once the plows arrived, we went outside and stood in a long line to catch a shuttle back to a spot off the road (Devil's Playground) where friends and families parked their cars. There was another line for people going back to the race start. The hail/snow had stopped and the sun came out. We waited. And waited. Two shuttles came and went, barely making a dent in the lines.
Finally we heard that another 40 shuttles were dispatched. It was organized chaos -- most waited patiently but some people cut out of line and sprinted for the shuttles. Families with children in shorts and sandals and exhausted athletes waited desperately. It started to hail/snow again as the extra shuttles came to our rescue.
We gratefully crowded in when it was our turn. I observed that I thought Hell was supposed to be warm. The shuttle driver summed up the day perfectly "Well folks, Mother Nature pissed in your Wheeties today."
Later that day, we learned that 200 runners were turned around at the A-frame due to the hazardous weather. These poor souls had to hike the 10 miles back down to Mannitou Springs.
My goal for this year is to finish without injury under the 6:30 cut off time.
Miles of smiles,
Ellen
Thanks to my sister, I was able to get to Ontario 45 minutes ahead of my flight and didn't have to leave my car. This was the first bad omen.