Stone Cat Trail Marathon recap

The Stone Cat Trail Marathon had been on my radar for decades but I’d never had a chance to try it until this year. It has a lottery that usually fills quickly but for whatever reason I got in easily when I signed up a few months back. I wasn’t sure if I would be able to run it due to a persistent, often painful Achilles tendonitis injury that had been dogging me since the summer, but my fall training and racing went well and it seems like I've able to “manage” it (with the promise to myself that I’d take a month or two off this winter to just bike and swim and let it heal). So today I gave it a go.

Pre-race

My good friends Micah and Kristen kindly allowed Jen and me to crash at their place in Newburyport, MA the night before. We rose at 4:30 a.m. and spent about an hour eating, dressing, toe lubing, Body Gliding, and making frequent visits to the bathroom, then zipped south the twenty minutes or so to the Doyon School adjacent to Willowdale State Forest in Ipswich. Registration was a breeze, and the bathroom lines weren’t too long, so without much ado and before I knew it I was out in the playing field behind the school watching the 50-milers take off at 6:15. The weather was incredibly nice: 60 degrees, light warm breeze, and not too humid.

Loop 1

At 6:30 we were off. I decided to start close to the front and go out strong to avoid getting stuck behind slower runners in the eventual pinch-down. The strategy worked well; we ran around the field once and people seemed to spread out sensibly according to their comfort level. Then we looped around the school and back into the woods on a narrow dirt lane. I didn’t feel boxed in at all.

Several new singletrack sections were introduced into the course this year, and it was run in the reverse direction as years past, so there wasn’t the big hill to climb in the early miles that veteran racers would have been used to. Instead, we mostly swooped around low hills on meandering mountain bike trails en route to the first aid station. It was very fun, and allowed for a decent pace. Except for a few wider sections, most of those miles were on that kind of singletrack. My Achilles was tight and my shoes felt like they might have been a bit snug (my right foot in particular felt disconcertingly close to numb), but for the most part it seemed like I was going to be OK.

general map of one loop of the course

Leaves weren’t super deep, but there were enough to obscure occasional roots and rocks that you absolutely had to keep a constant look out for. About 3 miles in I caught a shoe-tip on a small root and did that violent lurch-forward thing and let out a sound that must have sounded like I was hurling, but I managed to catch myself and not fall. We passed the first aid station around mile 5(-ish), after which the course followed a 50/50 mix of singletrack and doubletrack. By this point, I was more or less settled in with a loose group or marathoners, many of whom I would recognize throughout the rest of the race, but we also were starting to catch up with some of the slower 50-mile racers, who we generally caught and passed very quickly.

After the second aid station there’s a stretch where the trail crosses an open wetland on a narrow low dirt causeway, which was a nice visual break from the woods of the rest of the course. Just on the other side, I took a second to glance at my watch--the wrong second. I kicked something unseen and fell down hard, gouging a chunk out of my right hand and crashing on my left hip. Much to my relief, I was able to get up quick and keep running. I looked for what tripped me at that spot on the next lap, and sure enough there was one lone nasty double-knob root thingy down there looking all evil and mean.

After that the big hill began. It’s not really that high, but it does switch back and forth rather steeply for a bit. I'd run consistently 'til then, but allowed myself to walk that part. I was still passing 50-milers, but the catch and pass time was taking longer as our paces grew closer and closer to being the same. After some fun rising and falling along the side of the hill, the trail dropped steeply to the north and then rejoined the doubletrack trail that led back towards the start/finish. I pulled into the halfway mark back at the school right exactly at 2 hours, feeling good and strong.

Loop 2

After quickly switching out the GPS unit I'd carried on the first loop (I map trails obsessively) for a hand-held water bottle, I ran under the timing arch and headed back out. The second loop felt slightly slower, but in general it was easier running in terms of being able to go at exactly the pace I wanted since the pack had thinned out a lot. When I caught up to 50-milers I would usually keep pace with them briefly and then pass them as soon as we reached an uphill.

The distance between the first and second aid station felt interminable this time, with multiple déjà vu moments where forks in the rolling doubletrack felt exactly like forks I’d turned at mere minutes before. Just as my mind began to wander away from the trail to think about how nice it would feel to finish another marathon, I took a second fall, this time along a slight downhill on doubletrack. I must have toed another root or something, and I pitched forward hard. My arms splayed out and I landed on my right shoulder, then somersaulted around and, to my astonishment, sprang back up on my feet, mostly unscathed other than minor abrasions and some soreness. The guy right behind me said, "Impressive tumble."

There were no mile markers out on the course, and one nice thing about that is that I ran by feel rather than by strict pace. No obsessing about exact pace per mile, and no real sense of exactly when I reached mile 20. My second time over the big hill in the final miles went well, and I felt thankful to not experience any of the late-race hamstring cramps that I’ve so often been afflicted by in marathons. My Achilles gave me an occasional sharp pain, and every now and then my shoe would slide sideways on some leaves or something and cause me to wince with an unpleasant foot pain, but those moments were mostly few and brief.

Finish

I felt strong at the end, and was able to fly fast across the field to the finish. My final time was 4:01:53 (22^nd place out of 206 finishers). Full results are posted here. I felt pretty pleased with my performance, all things considered. It was my 12^th marathon, and my 8^th fastest. Stone Cat featured rugged trail terrain and endless twists, turns, and short, steep hills. Plus I fell/crashed hard, twice. And there were no mile markers. And I went into it with a seriously compromised Achilles. It should have been my slowest marathon. Which makes me feel extra good that it wasn't.

photos that Jen took about 200 feet before the finish 

As with most marathons, it felt extremely good to simply stop. I shuffled my way through the short chute, collected a Stone Cat vest (they ran very large and looked comically big on each runner I saw wearing one afterwards), grabbed a grilled cheese sandwich wedge, and sat down on a bench to just chat with Jen for a few minutes. But I felt remarkably good, considering. I’ve had one or two road marathons where everything worked and I felt great afterwards, but they’ve been exceptions. Except for my Achilles, this was one of the better ones in terms of how wrecked my body felt. I’m not saying I wasn’t beat, or walking stiffly and slowly, but for the most part this one left me relatively unscathed. I think most of the ache I felt was a result of the two big falls more than the cumulative effects of 26 miles. We hung around and watched finishers and 50-milers come through, then headed home to western Massachusetts and a 100% guilt-free dinner out on the town.

Shoes worn: ASICS Fuji Racers
Gels used: 3 chocolate Vi-Fuels
Salt tabs: 4 endurolyte tablets
Driver all the way to and from race from western MA in her new wagon that has HEATED SEATS: Jen

a sort of a comeback

In 2013 I ran 15 races, including my first ever 50K and 40-mile ultras. That was on the heels of 21 races in 2012. But things slowed down after that. Way down. Battling both a string of injuries and a storm of financial hits, my racing schedule took a pretty big tumble in 2014, and I only ran 5 races total:

2014 races

The Traprock one barely counts, since it was really nothing more than a test to see if I could run a race at all, post-injury. That said, the final 2 were actually pretty good showings.

So far, this year has actually been pretty good, considering. I'm still trying to manage a newly chronic achilles tendon ache, but otherwise I seem to be gradually coming back. It's a bit hard to tell because the difficulty of each trail race is so different than the others, but my pace has generally steadily improved. Most of the races have been trail, which I love, and I've really enjoyed exploring some that I'd never tried before, like the Busa Bushwhack today in Framingham:

2015 races so far:

I'm hoping to cap off the season with my first go at the Stone Cat Trail Marathon in Ipswich, MA this coming Saturday. After that, if I'm still on my feet, all else is gravy. 

2015 Busa Bushwhack 10-Mile Trail Race

Part of what I like about trails, races, trail races, and trail race series is the opportunity to explore new terrain and experience different places. The Busa Bushwhack, with a twisty 10-mile course at Callahan State Park in Framingham, MA, has one of those names that beckons beguilingly to people like me. The race had been on my bucket list of regional events for a few years now (though as I write that I suddenly realize I'm not all that partial to the concept of a bucket list; I'm more in the camp of hoping to savor the experience rather than checking something off a list), and I was looking forward to trying it. 

There were 155 runners in the 10-miler, and another 160 or so in a 5.3-mile version. Conditions were very nice, with overcast skies and temps in the 50s, and the course was well-marked (except for one arrow near the end that was clearly pointing the wrong way, I think because it was on an out-and-back portion and it wasn't clear on the return that you were supposed to ignore it). 

After pre-race announcements by the Greater Framingham Running Club and Rich Busa himself at the Brophy school, we all jogged about half a mile north through residential streets to the starting line on Major Hale Dr., right where the road crosses an underground aqueduct. We took off en masse and stayed on pavement for about a quarter of a mile. Then we veered right onto a wide path in the woods. Following signs, flagging, and the directions of volunteers, we wound our way around mostly easy trails for a few miles. 

Callahan really seems to be A Tale of Two Parks. The property is more or less evenly divided into two halves, north and south, by a paved road. The south half has wide, gentle, rolling doubletrack trails with easy hills. The northern half has narrower, more rugged trails with harder hills and tougher terrain. 

I had taken photos near miles 4 and 7 of this race in 2013, and at that time the downed leaves were pretty thick over portions of the trail, enough so that I was concerned about hidden rocks and roots. But there were many fewer leaves this year, and everything seemed to be visible. At about mile 3 we crossed the road and hit the first water station, then climbed a sharp hill and headed out for a very meandering tour of the park’s northern half. 

With only six days left until my A-race of the season, the Stone Cat Trail Marathon, I’m in full-on taper mode, and as such I chose to keep my pace firmly in check despite feeling like I could have gone a good bit faster. Or at least a little bit faster. Early on I found myself keeping pace with fellow western MA trail runner Carolyn Stocker, but I soon realized that the pace wasn’t meeting my “take it easy” taper week rule, so I eased up and held back some. She kept flying and finished 6 minutes and 20 places ahead of me. 

There were other familiar faces along the way too. At about mile 7, I passed and said hello to fellow trail runner and photographer Anthony Tieuli, who I’d met briefly before. And I passed Amy Rusiecki directing racers as I exited the woods at mile 9.25, a surprise recognition that I was only able to acknowledge with a belated wave about 50 feet further along. 

trail sign in Callahan State Park

The course grew progressively easier after re-crossing Parmenter/Edmands Rd around mile 7. We flew back along Rocky Road, Pine Cone, and Coco Ridge Trails, which seemed to be mostly flat, doubletrack paths, and most of the final mile back to the school is on pavement. As I approached the end, I picked up the pace slightly, but not enough that there was any danger of overdoing it. I finished in in 52nd place in 1:21:34 (an 8:09 pace). 

finish line photo (courtesy of Manos Tsagarakis)

Afterwards, I chatted briefly in the school cafeteria with Carolyn and her father, Wayne, as well as Grand Tree series regulars Eric Wyzga and Kehr Davis; self-described new trail runner(??) and the winner of the women’s race, Kim Webster; and a representative of Sudbury Valley Trustees, a strong conservation land trust organization responsible for protecting lots of properties in the area (and the publisher of a great new guidebook: 40 Walks West of Boston).

Overall, it felt like a solid effort that I was well trained for, and at the risk of tempting fate, I feel confident about the marathon ahead. Oh, and I came away with a sweet Busa Bushwhack pint glass for finishing!

extras

generalized course map

my 2013 Busa Bushwhack race photos here

Scott Livingston's recap of the 2011 race here

Bonus Site: Catamount State Forest

My guidebook Trail Running Western Massachusetts (click here to view the book's page on Amazon) profiles 51 of the best trail running sites in the region. It was a challenge to whittle down the final list to include in the book to just 51 sites, and some that I really like or that would have been nice to include had to be cut for space. I occasionally post profiles of some of those "bonus sites" here and link to them from the book's Facebook page. (see the Chapel Brook to D.A.R. Trail post for a previous example).

In this case, the bonus site is Catamount State Forest. It wasn't included in the book for a couple of reasons: 1.) It is an especially undeveloped site for a state forest, with no official map or parking, and no blazed or named trails. 2.) Several of the trails appear to be brand new, and either weren't there when the book was created or they hadn't been cleared and thus weren't visible. 3.) Most of the old road trails are pretty eroded. 4.) The singletrack trails, while wonderfully laid out, can be extremely challenging to navigate, especially in early spring and late fall when leaves are down (and some of the junctions can be hard to spot even in good conditions). Other factors of note are the fact that portions of the site are often used by off-road vehicles and it can be a bit of a backwoods party spot, and the fact that during wet years the bugs are notoriously brutal. Despite these notable drawbacks, however, the site can be a very fun place to explore and run.

a gentle stretch of singletrack at Catamount State Forest

The recommended route (highlighted in yellow) shown on the map below utilizes a combination of dirt road, old roads, woods roads, and newer singletrack trails. It is only about 5–6 miles total following the suggested route, but it will likely feel considerably longer the first time you go. You will need to look hard for junctions and turns, and paying careful attention to the map will be essential. There are also a number of optional extensions, depicted with light red highlighting on the map. Many of the trails on the northern and eastern boundary of the property continue onto private property and thus are not mapped here.

Starting at one of the small pullovers (with space for 2–3 cars) along the left side of Stacy Road (a rough dirt road that ascends north from Charlemont Rd just west of Rte. 112 north of Shelburne Falls), continue climbing up Stacy Rd to its end at a turn-around bulb just south of McLeod Pond. At the bulb, look for a trail that leads sharply at a diagonal up the hillside to the right. This trail quickly becomes a meandering singletrack path that winds past a number of old bicycle parts. After switching back and forth through the woods, it drops down towards the eastern shore of McLeod Pond. Follow it south along the shore to the southern end of the pond, then follow a path across ledges and an old dam to the western shore.

From a ledge at the southwest corner of McLeod Pond, follow a faint path north along the west side of the pond, just up from the shore. This trail soon swings left and climbs uphill, then swings left again and heads south. After taking a tight left turn near the height-of-land along the ridge, it meets up with a wider old woods road right where it crests the ridge. Turn right on this wide trail and begin descending. You will immediately come to a deep, eroded puddle (one of several along the trail in this vicinity). Go around it on the right. This trail soon levels out and heads north, with another short high-water bypass on the right that avoids a perpetually wet area, before veering west again and meeting up with S Catamount Hill Rd just east of an open wetland. One of the optional extensions in this area makes a tough 3-mile loop by heading north around the wetland and then climbing the slope to the west, going over a peak with an old chimney on it, and returning to the wetland.

Follow S Catamount Hill Rd north. In just under a mile, you will need to bypass to the right around a beaver flooded portion of the road, crossing over the outlet stream on some stones. Very soon you will arrive at a 4-way junction (where a different optional extension goes left). Continue straight for about 0.3 miles, passing a neat little spot where a stream flows underground on the left side of the road only to emerge from the base of a cliff on the right, to a ledge on the left with a cave called the Bear Caves. Yet another optional extension makes a very fun twisty horseshoe arc around the north side of the Bear Caves. Continue north from the caves for about about 0.1 miles along Catamount Hill Rd. At the top of a short trench-like, eroded section of the road, look for a faint trail leading sharply off the right up a small ledge.

Take a right on the faint trail, and follow it south above the eastern side of McLeod Pond for about 1.5–2 miles back to Stacy Road. This appears to be a newer section of mountain bike trail. It can be extremely hard to follow at times, but it is definitely there and it is very, very fun to run on, particularly in summer.

There are a number of other unmarked trails at Catamount State Forest, and aside from a few sections that may be rough or muddy, they're almost all fun to run. Some of them do lead off the property, however, and you must obey all posted signs (most notably along the trail that leads upslope to the west towards the summit of Pocumtuck Mtn.). Note that this map specifically does not include any unsanctioned trails that are not on state land; there are others out there but it would be inappropriate to depict them. Regardless of what route you choose to run, make sure to pay a visit to the ledges at the south shore of McLeod Pond. This remote and scenic spot is a true gem of the western Massachusetts wilds.

Click here to open a pdf file of the map

autumn along the trail at Catamount State Forest

along the "bike parts" trail at Catamount State Forest

a new bridge along the south shore of McLeod Pond at Catamount State Forest

 checking out the "Bear Caves" at Catamount State Forest

Sinuous singletrack trail above the east side of McLeod Pond at Catamount State Forest

2015 Groton Town Forest Trail Races

"Don't go out too fast," warned a race director.

"It's pretty flat to begin with, but around mile 7 or so you hit some kettles with short but steep hills that you'll want to save for." He was referring to a series of wetland depressions in the otherwise well-drained upland landscape, and his advice was sound. The hills hit hard and fast, and they definitely required quick surges of energy to power up.

With 3 weeks to go until my A-race, the Stone Cat Trail Marathon, I wanted to run a mid-distance "tune up" trail race that would serve as a 20-miler (when combined with generous warm-up and cool down runs), and not be too hilly. The long course (9.5 miles) at the annual Groton Town Forest Trail Races fit the bill. The alternative that day was the 14-mile Mt. Toby Trail Run, which is much closer to home but has that very significant thousand feet or so of race climbing to need to recover from afterwards. So early Sunday morning I headed east for Groton.

Race day was chilly and raw, especially on the heels of the previous weekend at Monroe, which had been amazingly warm and pleasant. It felt like late fall, maybe even early winter. I still wore shorts and a t-shirt (long-sleeve) for the actual race, but I was right on the edge of being too cold.

The race starts along an old rail bed at the northern edge of the forest, about a quarter mile south of parking and registration at a town senior center. The first mile follows a flat, straight stretch on dirt road. It was leaf-covered, but otherwise bore little resemblance to the rest of the course in terms of terrain and forest type. It crossed and re-crossed some live(?) rail tracks, then veered onto a winding singletrack path. From there, the course followed a mix of singletrack, doubletrack, and woods roads through the oak and pine forest. Except for a few rough eroded parts (usually on short, steep hills), it was great for running.

I started out slightly optimistic, hanging out somewhere around 10th place for a while, but eventually I got passed by a pack of people I couldn't quite seem to keep up with. They disappeared from my sight at the first water stop, where I lost some time fumbling to tear open a gel packet. After that I mostly found myself running alone, except for one guy who slowly reeled me in.

The sinuous singletrack portions, clearly designed with mountain bikers in mind, made for fantastic trail running tracks. They curved organically back and forth across the dry hilltops and roller-coastered up and down steeper slopes, generally making excellent use of the natural terrain. A few sections right along the Nashua River were pretty scenic too.

By the time I got to them about 2/3 of the way through the race, the kettle hills that I'd been warned about, along with some associated eskers and side ridges, definitely felt like obstacles in the path that took some wind out of my sails. I wasn't exactly well-rested for this race, as it fell at the tail end of one of my highest mileage weeks in ages. But they were fun nevertheless, and I only got passed by one person in that section.

The final mile was mostly flat, and ended back at the start. I finished in 1:16:20 (full results here), which comes out as just a few seconds over 8-minute miles. I felt pleased with my time and effort, and, most importantly, gained an extra boost of confidence for Stone Cat.

Finding Negus

For years I'd been hearing whispers of a neat trail on a peak called Mt. Negus (a.k.a., Negus Mountain, pronounced "knee-gus") in the Zoar region of northwestern Massachusetts, just north of and across the Deerfield River from Mohawk Trail State Forest. But I couldn't find much information about it. It wasn't in any hiking guidebooks and it didn't show up on any maps and there didn't seem to be any official trailhead. I couldn't even find much on the internet. Eventually, though, I pieced enough together to figure out where to park and where to start walking. And naturally it really wasn't all that hard to find once I knew where to look and where to go.

Parking is along a short section of paved road on the right side of Zoar Road immediately before it crosses the Deerfield River and becomes River Road. Elevation here is about 750 ft. You walk down the road until you reach a yellow metal gate just before the railroad tracks, at which point you should see the trail start into the woods on the other side of the tracks. It has recently been blazed with blue paint markers, and there are occasional round white signs with a blue bear paw symbol saying "Bear Swamp Hiking Trail -- Brookfield."

the trail at Mt. Negus

The trail is steep right off the bat. Really steep. Really, really steep. As in, you gain hundreds of feet of elevation in the first quarter mile or so. That said, it's not so steep that it requires ladders or rungs or ropes or anything. But you'll probably need to use your hands to scale some of the rocky ledges, especially while the trail is still down in the woods. When I hiked it, I was scouting to see if the trail could be used for trail running, and my general assessment is that I think it would be just over the edge of being too dangerous and probably not all that much fun to run, especially if the rocks were at all wet or icy, or if they were covered in leaves. The day I did it was dry and the colorful autumn leaves were mostly still on the trees, but I still wouldn't have wanted to run it. 

the trail up the southwest ridge of Mt. Negus is very steep to start with

Before long, the trail emerges out into the open along the narrow spine of the mountain's southwest ridge. Just past a large boulder perched right out in the open on the crest, it swings slightly right and climbs the semi-open ridge to the first peak. This section is remarkably dramatic and scenic, feeling much more like a wild White Mountains trek than most places I've been to in Massachusetts. 

dramatic scenery along the semi-open ridge of Mt. Negus

Just before the first peak, the grade lessens slightly and you get some views of the reservoir to the north. At this point you realize that the mountain is really less of a peak than the edge of a broad upland plateau covering much of this far corner of the state, and that over time the Deerfield River has carved a pretty deep, now-wooded canyon out of it. Then the trail crosses over the wooded knob and makes its way north towards the actual summit. 

For the record, the next quarter mile or so of trail IS quite enjoyably runnable, as it gently meanders through the woods between the two peaks. Then it comes out at an old jeep road just west of the higher summit (which it does not cross). The road ends at a bulb here, and there is a limited view to the west, but the better summit was definitely the first one. From the bulb, the rough road descends towards Steele Brook Rd / Tunnel Road and the reservoir to the north. This was where I turned around. 

 bony ledges partway along the narrow ridge of Mt. Negus

a far-reaching view that feels as wild and remote as anywhere I've seen in this state.

Overall it's really not a very long hike, hardly 2.5 miles round-trip. But it's challenging, especially in that first quarter mile or so near the bottom, with about 1,000 ft. of elevation gain in total. And it is exposed, and could be cold and/or tricky when it's windy or stormy out. On the day I did it, however, the afternoon sun warmed the ridge exquisitely, and there was a light breeze, so I just took my time and snapped some photos and sat in various spots along the way and admired the view. I've since heard that my friend Jeff incorporated it into a longer run that started at Mohawk Trail State Forest, which sounds like such a fun trip. All of the trails are on the scannable QR code map for site #8 in Trail Running Western Massachusetts.

map of Negus Mountain

Great Stuff Nearby: Mohawk Trail State Forest just to the south across the river; Monroe State Forest (with Spruce Peak, Raycroft Lookout, and Dunbar Brook) a few miles to the north; the little-known gem of Pelham Lake Park a few miles northeast in Rowe; and the Deerfield River Trails network (formerly Charlemont Trails) and Thunder Mountain Bike Park at Berkshire East.

2015 Monroe Dunbar Brook Trail Race

For the past two years, I've taken photos of racers crossing the stream at mile 9.5 of the Monroe Dunbar Book Trail Race (see galleries for 2013 and 2014). I love the splashy drama and they're some of my favorite photos, but this year jealousy got the better of me and I decided to run it again. I couldn't have chosen a better year.

The weather was simply perfect: sunny, warm but not hot, low humidity, and a light breeze. The late arrival of fall this year meant that there were far fewer leaves covering the trail than usual, resulting in a much easier experience finding footing along the way.

L: early climbing at Monroe.  R: singletrack path at Monroe.

I've thoroughly described the course in site 6 of my guidebook Trail Running Western Massachusetts, and blogged about the race in the past (see post here), so I won't repeat any of that information here. As for my race this year? Awesome. I felt great throughout, and I beat my 2012 time by more than 2 minutes.

There was one incident that hobbled me a bit, however. I tried a different (new) pair of socks in my ASICS Fuji Racers, and it turned out to be just as stupid a thing to do as they always tell you it will be. The socks slipped down my heels in both shoes, resulting in an uncomfortable, almost certainly blister-producing scenario. So, on the summit ridge, about halfway up from the powerlines to the top, I stopped and sat on a fallen log and removed both shoes to fix things. Untying and retying double knots and taking the shoes off and pulling socks up probably cost me a minimum of two minutes, which is kind of a lot in a race like this.

Otherwise, I couldn't have hoped for better. I finished in 1:45:40, which was good for 19th place.

me crossing Dunbar Brook at Monroe

Jen ran the race too, and was delighted to defeat the weird asthma demon that had been dogging her ever since late May. She finished in 2:10. At the finish, where there was a great picnic barbeque hosted by the awesomely relaxed and low-key Western Massachusetts Athletic Club (WMAC), we chatted with various friends who had run, including Nate Davis, Dave Stauffer, Arron Stone, Tim Mahoney, Benn Griffin, Rob Higley, and others. And after that Jen and I found our way down the steep slope behind the picnic area and sat on a sunny boulder next to the Dryway section of the Deerfield River for about an hour and watched kayakers and rafters shoot the rapids (Dragon's Tooth, I think) about six feet below us.

I realize it sounds somewhat overblown to say so, but all in all, the 2015 Monroe Dunbar race experience almost perfectly captured the spirit and essence of everything that I love about trail running.

Leaving Williamsburg

Williamsburg, MA

Today, after just over 2 years of living in Williamsburg, we're leaving the hilltowns and lighting out for lure of Greenfield. The new place is only about half an hour farther north in the Pioneer Valley, but it makes a lot more sense for our commutes. We will definitely miss the charms of being right in the rural village (easy walks to the The Brewmaster's Tavern, Cichy's Garage, and Meekins Library; very short drives to Elbow Room Coffee, Bread Euphoria, and the Local Burger food truck; and the excellent Joe's Garage bike shop in Haydenville). And I will definitely miss both my regular running routes (the 3.5-mile loop around Depot Rd / O'Neil Rd, the 6.2-mile loop up North Rd and Hememway and back Village Hill, and out-and-backs up Nash Hill Rd) and the trails slightly further afield (DAR State Forest, Chapel Brook Falls to Bullitt Reservation, and Chesterfield Gorge, among others). I'll also miss some of the shorter trails maintained by Williamsburg Woodland Trails, like Petticoat Hill and the one pictured below at the Breckenridge Sanctuary.

trail running at the Breckenridge Sanctuary

Farewell Williamsburg!

[10/10/15 update]: And hello, Greenfield! So far, we're loving the food (Mesa Verde, The People's Pint, The Brass Buckle, Magpie's, Hope & Olive, The Rendezvous over in Turner's, etc.), the trail runs (Greenfield Ridge, Catamount State Forest just to the west, etc.), and the general lively vibe of a seemingly thriving downtown (Green Fields Market, World Eye Books, and Wilson's come to mind). We're hoping to make it a good stay.

2015 Pisgah Trail Races

I have a love / love relationship with the Pisgah Mountain Trail Races. On one hand, I love the short course 14-miler (23K). On the other hand, I love the long course 50K. And I love the terrain and trails and pretty much everything about the whole thing. So... yeah. It's basically a big love-fest for me.

My first time running the 23K was in 2005, when I finished it in 2:28:21. It was my first experience racing that kind of distance on those kinds of trails, and although I enjoyed it, it seemed like more of a novelty at the time. I was trying to get back into road marathons and felt like running trails were waiting to mess me up somehow. Not that I didn't hike all the time, or regularly run trails over shorter distances. It just wasn't where I was at. Anyway, a few years later, I returned to Pisgah for work and created an interpretive trail guide that partly overlaps with trails used in the race. In 2012 I ran it again, this time clobbering my time with a 2:15:43 finish. I wrote about that in an earlier blog post. Then in 2013 I went back yet again and did the 50K as my first ultra, and wrote about that race extensively here. And lastly, I went back one more time, in 2014, and took photos of racers in both events, and posted a blog entry about that here.

This year I decided to run the 23K again, partly as part of a build-up to the Stone Cat Trail Marathon in early November and partly just for the fun of it. I've been trying to determine whether my Achilles is going to let me continue or not, as it's been very tight lately. It seems like I'm juuust able to get by "managing" it, but I suspect I'll need to take some time off soon. Anyway, I didn't think I was fit enough or fast enough to get a PR this year, but I was feeling decent and hoped that I'd at least come close.

The weather couldn't have been more perfect. Ideal temps, not too humid, and after a week where it only rained once so you knew that it wouldn't be too slick or muddy out there. At the start it was hard to not go out faster. I wanted to, but I also really wanted to make sure I didn't overstress my Achilles. So I settled into a sensible pace out the dirt road to the start of the singletrack. And once I entered the woods and watched some 50K runners peel off to the left, I ran alone for quite a while. Knowing the course and park well, I was never afraid that I was lost or had taken a wrong turn, but it is amazing how there always seems to be a stretch or two where I see a wetland off to the side that I don't remember at all.

I reached the Kilburn water station and passed a handful of runners who slowed to take a longer break there. One of them re-passed me going up the mountain, but otherwise I never saw the others again. The numerous false summits of Mt. Pisgah fooled me yet again, as I thought for sure I was near the final peak when there was still one more to go. Flying down the far side, I was really glad to know the trail well, and even gladder that it wasn't slippery this year. Just before bottoming out I passed Fred Ross who took an awesome photo of me starting to leap over a log that had fallen across the trail.

killer leap photo by the ever-intrepid Fred Ross

The final miles flew by without too much of note, save for one dumb-ass moment. About a quarter mile up from the gate on the final descent, I violently rolled an ankle out and fell down hard. Cursing, I got up slowly and hobbled along for a few steps trying to see if I could move. It hurt quite a bit and I thought for sure I'd sprained it yet again. But amazingly enough, after about 2 minutes the pain subsided and I was able to start running again, slowly at first and then closer to my original pace a few minutes later. I finished in 2:19:45, four minutes slower than 3 years ago, and about nine minutes faster than 2005. 

After finishing, I went back out onto the course to take photos of the 50K runners around mile 29-30 of their race. All of those pictures are in a gallery here.