2022 Bighorn 100 Race Report

Most years the Virginia Happy Trail Running Club gets a crew together for a destination race, and this year the club decided on the Bighorn Trail Runs in Wyoming. It was only 6 weeks after Hellbender, but I was overdue to join the “blue train” and signed up for the 100 without thinking too hard about it. With my attention on Hellbender and Tor des Geants this year, planning was light and expectations were modest, but I was excited to explore some amazing mountains and spend time with good friends.

The forecast called for an unseasonal high of 98 degrees! This course would be higher altitude than any 100 miler I’ve done, going over 9,000 feet with average elevation of 6,600 feet. There was apparently still lots of snow and mud up high after late season snow. I figured it would be a seriously challenging day and didn’t really know what to expect, but I’d give it whatever I had!

Chris was clearly a fan of our remote Wyoming cabin

The small town of Sheridan hosted over 1,000 runners across the 4 distances

The Blue Train 100 milers. Many more ran the 52 and 32 mile races.

Part 1: Paradise City

After mile 3.5, the course came out of the trees, ascending 3,500 up the Tongue River Canyon with big sweeping views. I caught up for a bit with Jordan Chang, fellow Virginian who went on to an incredible 3rd place finish, and we each kept stopping for pics of the ah-maz-ing views.

Chris Roberts and I had driven together from Denver and shared an Airbnb, and we joined forces on part of this climb also. The “beast coast” was representing out in Wyoming.

We climbed up into meadows filled with wildflowers. The scenery exceeded my expectations, and pictures I saw before the race just didn’t do it justice. We hit the top of the climb at 7,500 feet before a steep descent into the next aid station. After mistakenly blowing through the mile 3.5 aid station, I made sure to do good refuel at Upper Sheep Creek.

Tongue River canyon at the start of the race

Jordan exhibiting perfect conservative pacing

Approaching the top of the first climb around 7,500 feet

We crested a ridge at 7,900 feet and could see the first major aid station, Dry Fork, at mile 13.5 far in the distance. I was waaaay up on my splits at this point, but I felt fantastic and cruised into Dry Fork. Quatro and Chelsea from VHTRC were out there cheering for us before embarking on the 52 miler the next morning – thanks both!

At the major aid stations, kids would run ahead and get your drop bag for you. It was such a nice touch and so kind of them! I refilled my pack and grabbed some chips and fries for the road.

Part 2: El Scorcho

For many miles, we rolled along hilly doubletrack between 6,500 and 7,500 feet. It was past noon, and the heat, altitude, and exposure were in full effect. I dialed back a few notches, letting several runners go ahead. I knew that going too hard here would be a race ender, and I tried my best to run smart.

Around mile 15 or 16, I started having cramps in my right quad. Not a good sign with so many miles to go, and I ramped up my electrolytes intake. I rolled into an aid station at mile 19 feeling rough. Watermelon looked good, so I grabbed some for the road.

The cramps kept coming back and were spreading through my legs. 7 miles between aid stations suddenly sounded like a long way! On the bright side, we ran through incredible meadows covered in wildflowers. The wide open, exposed course made for brutal conditions but also a lot of beauty.

Sound of Music level beauty up in these meadows

I was riding the struggle bus when a guy came up behind me. I moved to let him by, but he graciously hung with me despite my slow pace. Turns out he was running CCC (the UTMB 100K) in a few months, and we chatted about the course and Chamonix. It was a most welcome distraction, and we rolled into the Bear Camp aid station together about a marathon in. After a cold water hose down and tortilla with peanut butter and Nutella, I almost felt human again!

It was only 3.5 miles to the major aid station at Sally’s Footbridge. But you dropped 2,300 feet, and it quickly got technical, muddy, and wet. As you came out of the trees and dropped down towards lower elevation at 4500 feet, the temperatures cranked up, and it felt like a furnace. I was overheated and in full on meltdown.

Descending to 4,500 feet at mile 30. Who turned on the heat? We would cross the river and ascend the cliffs on the other side over the next few miles.

Raging river just before Footbridge. I would have liked nothing more than to jump in and cool off, but I’d end up miles downriver!

I pulled into Footbridge. What did I need to do to turn this thing around? I asked an amazing volunteer to put ice in my hat, and I tucked in my shirt to dump ice down it. My body was caked in salt, and I was in desperate need of electrolytes. My aid station angel found me an avocado, and I sprinkled it with salt and devoured it. I ate a slice of watermelon with salt on it. I kept eating, grabbed my drop bag, and resupplied for the road.

I had done what I could do, and it was time to keep moving. On the way out, the Search and Rescue folks let me know a Bull Moose was a little way up the trail. Not really sure what I was supposed to do with that information …

Part 3: It’s a Long Way to the Top

If you want to rock and roll. Or if you climb 18 miles and 5,000 feet up to the course high point over 9,000 feet.

You read that right – 18 miles of straight climbing! Despite my best efforts at Footbridge, I still felt terrible. It was hot and exposed, and the trail was steep on this section. This ridiculous climb seemed totally impossible. But one thing I’ve learned is that you can’t think about what is in front of you. Focus on the now and control the controllables.

I could set my watch to my right quad. After 25 minutes, it would start cramping again, and I would take another electrolyte capsule. Several runners passed me as we approached Cathedral, a small aid station 3 miles from Footbridge. I knew I needed something, but nothing looked good. They said they’d have Ramen soup on the way down. That sounded amazing, but I couldn’t even run the numbers on how long it would take for me to run the 30 miles to get back there!

I was fighting hard to turn things around, but I was at best treading water. I cursed myself for not bringing my poles to the race. Why did I think it was a good idea to do an 18 mile climb without poles? With the ongoing cramps, I would have loved to take some of the pressure off my legs. Another person went by me, merrily hiking along with their poles.

As we ascended, we came out of the trees to more incredible alpine views. But the skies ahead looked ominous and thunder boomed in the distance. Shortly before the second aid station on the JAWS climb, the skies opened up. The rain was freezing with whipping winds and lightning up ahead. I threw my jacket on, but I was light on gear if this weather continued. The aid station had warm soup ready for us. Soup!!! I downed two cups, refilled my baggie of electrolytes, and grabbed salty snacks for the road. Fortunately, the weather passed, and it was back to blue skies.

Beautiful evening towards the top of the JAWS climb

The real mud started shortly after this aid station, about 8 miles from the top of JAWS. I tried tiptoeing around it, but I soon realized how silly that was and plowed on through.

Somewhere on this section, I started to feel … ok. The trail turned steep again, and my UTMB climbing legs finally showed up. I actually started to repass a few runners and no longer had thoughts about trying to steal their poles.

I rolled into the 3rd aid station on the JAWS climb (this was indeed a 4 aid station climb!). I don’t know if it was the cooler temps up high, four hours of pounding electrolytes and calories, or my body just giving in, but I felt decent for the first time in forever. I downed two big cups of soup. The folks in the aid station told me I was in 14th (though in retrospect I was in fact closer to 20th). Just like that, I was back. It was full on race mode and time to hunt down runners ahead of me!

I loved every minute of the remaining 5 mile climb up to JAWS. I quickly blew past 3 runners. We ran in and out of pine forests and wide-open alpine meadows. Soon we hit the snowfields about 3 miles from the turnaround, but I didn’t mind. After crossing a dirt road, the rest of the way to JAWS was heavily snow covered and treacherous in spots. I had hoped for about a 12 hour split to the turnaround and was floored to realize I was close to that pace after all the hard times earlier. The highs and lows of 100 milers are just wild.

I pulled off the trail to pee and managed to get one leg 3 feet deep in a snowdrift. My entire hamstring cramped up, and I was immobilized in the snow, not sure I’d be able to make it out of there! I was able to move my leg just enough to release the cramp and clumsily extracted myself from the snowbank. You can’t help but laugh at times like this.

I arrived at JAWS 11:45 into the race (8:45pm), mind bogglingly ahead of my target splits. The sun was starting to set with snowfields surrounding the 9,000 peak. It was a magical moment.

I was so pumped as I entered the major aid station. I felt great and had 18 miles of runnable downhill ahead of me. Top 10 was in reach if I could keep moving well. Someone asked if I wanted soup or mashed potatoes. Both? I inhaled a cup, and it was just about the best thing I ever tasted. I housed another cup of it.

“How are you feeling?” I looked up to see a Search & Rescue race official. “I feel fantastic”, I mumbled as I inhaled mashed potatoes. “When was the last time you peed? Have you had enough electrolytes? Do you have the gear you need?” I realized this was a test, and in my hurry to get back on the trail I was failing. I looked him in the eye, answered all his questions, and was released back into the wild.

I was flying down the trail in the fading light, and I felt strong. It was great passing runners coming up and sharing words of encouragement. I passed two more runners, moving into 10th. I finally had to put on the headlamp a little after 9:30pm.

There weren’t many runners left coming up the climb after I passed the second aid station on the descent. I put in my headphones and went to work.

Part 4: Fight Song

The first 14 miles of the JAWS descent went well, but things got tough again. Back at lower altitude, it was hot despite being late at night. This part of the trail was technical and steep, and I took a small tumble. I was about 100k into the race and felt like I had a very long way to go.

I arrived back at Footbridge, fueling up with soup and quesadilla. One runner had been in aid for 30 minutes fixing his feet, and apparently 2-3 more runners were just up ahead. That lit a fire as I ran out of the aid station towards “The Haul”, ascending 2300 feet in 3.5 miles. This was my jam, and I passed 3 runners on the big climb. I arrived at Bear Camp feeling good and ready to chase more runners.

However, I quickly started to fade again on the long section between Bear and Cow Camp. Every runner I passed on The Haul had repassed me. I was cramping again, and it was hot despite being up near 7,000 feet. There was this weird hot wind that was not the tiniest bit refreshing. I alternated running and walking until finally getting to Cow Camp, knowing that something was off with my body. They had extra salty soup, and I drank two cups. Somehow I was out of gels, and I worried about having enough fuel on the next 6 mile section. I ate some watermelon and grabbed PB&J for the road.

My body was failing me. I desperately wanted sleep as dawn approached. I was light-headed, and my heart was race despite the slow pace. I was overheating and couldn’t get my core temperature down. It was time for a hard reset. I set my alarm for 8 minutes and laid down next to the trail.

After 6 minutes I woke up from my micro nap. I was cooler, and my heart wasn’t racing as much. I started moving and got some food down. I started to think maybe I had too much salt earlier, and I stuck with water and food for a while.

Dawn had arrived, and while I didn’t feel good, I was no longer getting worse. Then I spotted a bull moose! Fortunately, it ran away from me towards the woods, and I marveled at seeing a moose in the wild at 5am with the rising sun.

I could see Dry Fork aid station in the distance at the top of a 1,000 foot climb. I was still in 10th place, but I looked behind me and saw a runner approaching fast. This flipped a switch, and I was back after a 15 mile rough patch. I realized I felt pretty good again, and it was time to go to work for the last 20 miles! I started running uphill and ran almost all of the climb up to Dry Fork.

Part 5: Conquest of Paradise

Of course I am going to finish with the theme song for the start of UTMB. I charged hard into Dry Fork at 6:07am with two goals: 1) hang on for dear life to top 10, and 2) finish under 25 hours. I figured I would need 4 hours to finish from Dry Fork if I was moving well. I left at 6:12am, so finishing before 10am to get sub 25 would be a stretch. Dialing back electrolytes seemed to be working, so it would be Ginger Ale, water, and gels for the rest of the race.

I ran all the way up the climb after Dry Fork, chasing another runner in the distance. I had managed to build a gap on 11th place and hit some 10 and 11 minute miles on the next dirt road section.

I moved into 9th place approaching Upper Sheek Creek aid station at mile 88. I traversed over to “The Wall”, the last steep climb of the course. I powered up, building a gap as I approached the top of the Tongue River Canyon at 7,500 feet.

Morning of day 2 on the loooong descent to the finish

It was another beautiful morning with bluebird skies. I had cell service and gave Jen and the boys a quick call. Then it was bombs away for 11 miles of descending to the finish.

Several miles of the descent were steep, with ~800 feet of descending per mile. I was moving well and holding up, but it was getting super hot. The sun beat down on the canyon, and I was seriously worried about 8-9 more miles in this heat.

I was so happy to see the volunteers at Lower Sheep Creek. They dumped cold river water on my head. Glorious. I refilled bottles, ate some chips, and headed down 2.3 miles of trail to the final aid station.

I arrived at last aid at 8:50am (23:50 into the race) with 5 road miles to go. I was tired but still had legs, and took off at 9:40 pace down the road. It was time to get this thing done.

2 miles to go. Sub 25 was in the bag. I was going to finish top 10 in a west coast 100 at altitude and get another Hardrock qualifier. I called Jen and the boys once more a mile out, and they helped cheer me in. I turned the corner to run parallel to the Tongue River down the finish chute. What an incredible venue for a race finish! I crossed the finish in 24:33 and in 9th place.

In years past, I learned the hard way that 100 milers required going to the bottom of the well, and I could only do that every year or two. I was worried about Bighorn being so close to Hellbender and whether I’d be able to summon what was required to get it done. Maybe the well gets deeper over time. Or maybe we just learn to enjoy being at the bottom of the well. Whatever the case, I’m thrilled I was able to run well at both races and also enjoy them both so much.

I took away lots of notes on performing at altitude and in the heat. When I someday get into Western State and Hardrock, I’ll be better prepared after this experience.

I had a blast hanging out at the finish line all day, cheering on VHTRC friends (congrats, all!) and swapping stories from the race. Keith was already talking about the destination for next year’s trip.

Bighorn is a tough challenge, and the consensus across VHTRC is that it was harder than expected. But I highly recommend it. It is a true mountain race, and the scenery was incredible – pictures don’t do it justice. The volunteers were amazing. So much of the course is so remote that some aid stations are fairly minimal, but it is still impressive what they manage to pull together in such wild locations.

Long Haul worked really well for me again, and I could have used even more of it in the heat. Spring Energy gels (mostly Awesome Sauce with a few Speednuts) went down well all day – I went through 20 in total. I ran light with the USWE Pace 2, which was perfect. And this was 100 miler number 2 with the Rabbit Shredders. I love these shorts, especially how much you can carry in the waist pouches.

Now it’s time to recover hard and then train hard for Tor des Geants!