With no taper other than not having run to the market Saturday morning (though we did go to the market and have brunch before packing up, meaning I was on my feet most of the day), we arrived at
around 3:30pm to set up camp at the group camping site. It was not especially comforting to discover the grass was absolutely soaked (it had rained that morning), and there was over an inch of standing water around the fire pit. We elected to pitch our tent on the highest portion of the group camping site in an effort to minimize sogginess.
After a bowl of oatmeal around 4:30pm and making sure everything was stowed as we wanted, we headed down to the beach pavilion - race HQ - to pick up kit and say hello.
After getting my bib, swag, greetings and some hugs, it was back to the campsite where
brewed up some pre-race coffee, then I got changed...and picked up a hitchhiker.
After gloomy overcast all afternoon, the sun finally started to come out around 6pm - just in time for the early start option for the 25k race. I tried to work methodically to get ready, but while havering about what I wanted to wear (long sleeve? short sleeve? wind vest?) time rather got away on me; it was past 7pm by the time I started my warmup, and around 7:15pm by the time we set off for the 3min drive down to the beach! I just had time to say hi to a few friends before the pre-race announcements.
I wanted one last pee, but by the time the pre-race meeting was over there were only about 2mins until gun time. I looked longingly at the portajohns just a few metres away as people shuffled toward the start line, then decided to heck with it - it's a trail race, so I'd just go off-roading at some point.
I had decided I didn't want to be cold, so went with a very light long sleeve wool shirt with my wind vest on top and a tubular bandana covering my ears - I get ice cream headaches if I leave them uncovered at anything less than 12c, and the overnight low was predicted to be 6c. I also like having the cushion of the bandana under my headlamp, which I was using in tandem with
. I had a pair of stretchy gloves in my vest in case my hands got cold, too.
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I thought there was enough light to shoot without stopping.
I was wrong. |
The whole course is littered with boardwalks - some small, some quite extensive - over small creeks and wetlands around the reservoir.
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| This particular one has a dork on it. |
Some of the early bits of the course it would be generous to really call trail - they're more just field with a somewhat worn patch from the passage of feet and bikes. Of course, it's quite early season (well, at least due to the late spring) so it may improve with use.
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| Not particularly trail-y. |
I will say, however, that even the undeveloped trail portions were easier to cope with than the mud.
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| THE MUD |
By no means did it cover the whole course, but there were definitely patches of it throughout the entire loop. It certainly gave you an appreciation for the dry sections!
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| Like this leaf-strewn corridor. |
The sun had emerged fully from the clouds now, casting golden light throughout the forest.
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| Though of course some knob had to block a big chunk of it with her shadow. |
I was Onward through alternating sections of soupy mud, boardwalk, and natural forest floor.
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| Squelchsquelchsquelch |
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| As the Lake Trail serves mountain bikers, there are traction pads on many of the boardwalks |
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| This very new-looking one, however, would have been tricky had it been raining. |
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| I love the sun slanting through the trees in the evening. |
At almost 3k, we reached the point where the courses diverged - the 5k turned right to head back toward the campground, while the 10k and 25k turned left to continue on the Lake Trail.
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| Well-signed at the divergence, as the 5k wouldn't start until after dark. |
That left turn? Smack into a big mud puddle.
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| Wheeeeeeeee |
This section finally brought us out to a view over the reservoir - our first glimpse since leaving the beach behind.
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| It just. Keeps. Going. |
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| Blerf. |
Still being a bit gun-shy about blasting through mud puddles after utterly hashing my feet at the
Sulphur Springs 100k a couple of years back, I mostly just walked through the shoe-sucking mud - it was the best way to stay upright, and it's not like I'd have achieved much speed trying to run through them anyway.
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| Especially with a passenger. |
Even some less-muddy portions of the course had me approaching with a bit of caution - this washed-out downhill (that looks like nothing in the photo) was a bit steep and studded with enough rocks that I was careful where I stepped.
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| I am, however, a total weenie. |
Then it was another grassy doubletrack runway to get to the first aid station, about 4.5km in.
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| Flat and soft |
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| Friendly volunteers who were kind enough to point me to the jug from which to fill my bottle. |
Hard right turn out of the aid station onto a dirt road - specifically Perth-Oxford Road - for a quick jam down to the next section of the trail.
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| I always try to eat and drink while climbing |
A swig of
EFS Liquid Shot from my flask, well washed down with water...or so I thought. A few minutes later I had a horrible acidic burp that burned my throat and got me coughing. I don't know if I had a couple too many snacks with my oatmeal (I did have a few cashews, a coconut date roll, and a dark chocolate coconut cluster or two - it had been a long time since brunch!), or if my expired gel was biting me in the butt. All I know is it's damnably difficult to run while coughing, and it went on for several minutes.
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At least the scenery was beautiful.
I absolutely adored this section of hardwood forest. |
As the sun drew closer to the horizon and I passed the 45min mark, I decided to try an
S!cap to see if it might help settle my digestion a bit. To be clear, I didn't actually have an angry belly - I never felt anything in my gut, though I will put my hand up to cropdusting the trail a little - I just had that one nasty burp.
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| Stony ground near the Pit speaks to the history of quarrying |
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| John climbs a small hill in the hardwoods. |
Thus began probably the hilliest section of the course, though the trail isn't really what anyone would call hilly.
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| A little lumpy, maybe. |
We emerged back at the water once more, with streaks of cloud beginning to show some colour in the evening sky.
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| Pretty. |
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| It was a beautiful evening! |
Another stone-strewn climb away from the reservoir - the dying light looked like a window at the top through the tree cover, as I munched back a small piece of bacon and trudged uphill.
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| Climbing toward the light...wait, I'm not dead, am I? |
Right turn at the top to stay on the trail, then back downhill into another quagmire of mud.
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| Nope, definitely not dead. |
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| I can only imagine how awful it would be if they hadn't built these boardwalks.. |
Turning onto the Field of Burrs side trail, it was all grassy, rolling hills under a spectacular sunset.
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| Oooh.. |
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| Ahhh.. |
Fortunately the bacon sat better than the gel had originally - I didn't have a single other issue with nutrition or hydration throughout the race. I downed another ounce of
EFS Liquid Shot at 1h30m, then small swigs (half-ounce-ish) at 2h25m and 2h48m, plus one of my salted maple crisp rice treats at the 2 hour mark. Add in the bacon and I probably took in a total of 400cal, with another
S!cap at 1h30m and 2h15m. Didn't have the sausage fingers, and had no GI distress.
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| Always a good day when you can say that. |
As the sun dropped I kept on rolling through the Field of Burrs, fortunately not picking up any of its namesake.
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| Not overly scenic, but not muddy, either. |
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| The sunset was stunning. |
It was dark enough that I had to stop fully in order to get anything like a decent photo, but I was happy to do so to capture the vibrant colours of the western sky.
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| Blurry selfies are fine - noone wants to look at me, anyway. |
It wasn't quite dark enough to turn on my lights yet (though I saw some other people had switched theirs on), running along the edge of the reservoir once more.
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| More doubletrack, much firmer this time. |
I stopped by the trailhead to get my bottle filled at the 10k aid station.
Another right turn onto a dirt road, then over a bridge at the Eastern end of the reservoir.
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| More speedy terrain. |
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| A large curve in the reservoir itself prevents you from seeing very far down its length. |
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| I stopped dead to take this photo, and am rather bitter it still came out blurry anyway. |
Turning right onto a doubletrack dirt lane from the road, it was time to turn on the lighting system. With the air cooling off at day's end, I popped my thumbies back on to keep my hands warm as they were getting a bit chilly, particularly the one holding my bottle. I still had gloves if I needed them, too.
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| Back into the woods. |
Despite now being on the south side of the Lake Trail, things felt very similar to the north side.
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| By which I mean they were wet and muddy. |
Without really being able to take in the scenery, I just focused on trying to move reasonably efficiently. The south side was slightly more technical than the north, which mostly manifested itself in some rooty sections. I was highly aware that splashing through the mud puddles might easily result in a turned ankle if I stepped on a submerged and invisible root or rock, so I walked through most of the splurpyness.
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| Like this. |
That last photo may or may not have been where I stopped to examine the mud at close range. I know I stood still for a moment to try to capture a pic of my feet buried in some deep mud in the darkness, and my weight shifted back a bit. I tried to move my right foot back to keep from overbalancing, but found it somewhat stuck in the mud with the heel of my shoe jammed up against a root. It wouldn't move for me, so I slowly and gracelessly just fell the eff over into the mud puddle.
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| Dark times indeed. |
Of course it had to be just as a group of 3 people approached from behind - I'd basically been running by my lonesome for at least 15mins, but if a K falls in the woods and there's noone to see it, who really gets to laugh at her?
No, they didn't laugh - they just asked if I was ok, which I was. Fortunately I'd landed in some quite soft mud, so while I was absolutely filthy, I was fine. I'd even managed to keep the valve of my hand bottle clean (though the bottom of it squelched into the mire), so I didn't have to suck muddy water or end up with grit in my teeth.
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It would be another kilometer or so before I'd find this stream running right across the trail.
Hey, at least something was running! |
Pushing along, I came once more to the water's edge as the last of the light and colour faded from the sky.
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| Worth the trip. |
Somewhere not long after full dark, I came 'round a curve in the woods and saw a pair of glowing eyes on a grassy berm - from their spacing and proximity to the grass I'm relatively sure it was, in fact, a raccoon...though I was unable to ascertain in the darkness how rugged he or she might be. That was the only wildlife I saw all night, though I did hear the rustle of small critters, birds chirping, and the song of some frogs in a swampy area near one of the backcountry campsites (at which we'll actually be canoe camping for Victoria Day weekend 2 weeks after raceday).
There's a scout camp near the 15k mark of the course, where I found some friendly young fellows who were very kind about saying I was doing well (debatable), that it wasn't really a trail race until you fell in the mud (I'd actually had a decent streak of staying upright in races going!), and helped me fill my bottle.
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| Saints, these lads. |
Thanking them for being out in the woods for us idiot runners on a chilly evening, I plunged back along the trail. I was moving slower and slower as my hamstrings and left hip complained bitterly about the slippery footing in the muddy sections - I've been having some issues with the hip for a few weeks now, and it wasn't especially happy with my life choices at that moment. Nonetheless, I kept moving forward, eating and drinking where appropriate, and just trying to enjoy a fairly beautiful night. The temperature was right near the dewpoint, with my breath fogging the air ahead of me, and while I occasionally felt a chill when a breeze would blow against my sweat-and-mud-soaked carcass it was never enough to make me zip up my vest - it stayed tucked back under the straps of my pack for basically the entire race. I never did use those gloves, either.
While I was still moving along, I was starting to wonder about the 3.5 hour cut-off time - it had taken me about 2hrs to reach the 15k aid station, and I definitely was not speeding up as various bits of me began to protest the cruel and unusual treatment they'd received. This was nowhere more apparent than approaching the final aid station around 20.5k - there was a terrible hundred metres or so of muddy singletrack through grass that sloped sharply down to the right, heading out to Road 119/Hwy 7.
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| Pointless to try to take a photo, but I'm not known for my good decision making skills. |
One last fill of my bottle, with profuse thanks to the volunteers who would be out there til the last runner passed through, cooking up grilled cheese that looked so delicious it was heartbreaking to have to decline. Stupid food allergies!
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| Gems of people, this lot. |
From this point we had to cross the highway, which even past 10pm was rather busy - I was grateful to the volunteer marshals who were there to keep us safe (thanks David Varty & your compatriot on the west side!). Over a small footbridge spanning a drainage ditch, then into the fastest portion of the course - this was mostly hardpacked grassy doubletrack, trending downhill through some woods along 13th Line before emerging at Hwy 9.
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Spoiler alert: the time recorded by my Garmin was my exact gun time, too.
Full workout details are here. |
As usual, all turns were well marked by both
Happy Trails and
Wildwood.
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| Big directional arrows |
I didn't particularly enjoy having to run along the side of a road - the shoulder was plenty wide, but we were on the right-hand side (with the flow of traffic) and I don't have a rear light. Not to mention, well...pavement. Blargh!
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| Headlights and headlamps off in the distance. |
It did make for some quicker moving, though...or at least as quick as I was capable of, with my hip complaining quite loudly. I'm rather embarrassed and discouraged by how badly beat up I was, considering some of the stupidly long races I'll be attempting later this year.
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| Back onto the trail one last time |
The final couple of kilometres take you along a section of the
Avon Trail, and through some very winding trails in a pine forest. The combination of the darkness, the late hour, and accumulated fatigue had me less than confident about my route-finding, and even the person who marked the last 5km of the course admitted that (now having seen it in the dark) he ought to have used more trail tape. I found myself walking on easily runnable terrain just to try to spot signs I was heading in the correct direction, especially after seeing another runner about 50m to my left headed the opposite way. I trusted that the trail would curl 'round to bring me that way, and it eventually did, but I would have been able to move a bit faster through that section had I not doubted my path so often. I passed a loud rush of water - the dam that creates and regulates the reservoir - but in the darkness I couldn't really see anything of it, and I needed to keep moving if I was going to make the cut-off time of 11pm.
The other slowing factor, as it had been all night, was the mud - there were two more splurpy, slippery patches of it in the final kilometre before we finally came through a tunnel I'd spotted on the way into the park and emerged onto the gravelly campground roads once more. As I did, I was passed back by Rebecca and another lady whom I'd raced against at the
Winter Goose Chase Snowshoe Race in February. I'd like to tell you that I turned on the jets to stay with them, but I simply had no answer to their surge; it was all I could do to keep myself from dropping to a walk, knowing that I had nothing but park road between me and the finish line that was nearly close enough to taste.
Finally, blissfully, I turned onto the road to the beach pavilion and ran past all the directional arrows for the parking area. I must say these were a little disorienting for my addled brain, as they looked just the same as the arrows that indicated turns on the course! I just kept running past the rows of trees until I reached a right turn arrow with a piece of pink tape, then turned onto the dirt laneway down toward the beach and the finish chute.
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| Which looked just as magical as I'd imagined earlier. |
A few more sore, tired, stumbling steps and I was across the line at last.
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Trying not to trip over the finish line.
Photo credit to Tanker |
Official time: 3:23:12 @ 8:08/km
5/5 W35-39 - 25/45 Women - 65/92 O/A
In a rather special moment for me, it was actually
Tanker who put my medal around my neck at the finish line, at which he'd been volunteering all evening.
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| And pretty dang cool medals they are, too! |
I also brought rather a lot of the course across the finish line with me.
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| Muddeh. |
Fortunately I'd brought my post-race clothing bag down to the beach pavilion earlier, so I was able to quickly get changed out of my sweaty, muddy clothes and into warm, dry things...after hosing off my lower legs first, to get the worst of the filth off.
It was a delightful surprise to be told by Race Directors Jeff and Heather that we'd each get to take home one of the wooden race-logo'd tealight holders as a souvenir, on top of everything else!
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| These medals are seriously rad - the eyes and "RUGGED" glow in the dark! |
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| Love these flameless tealight holders! |
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| Top 3 men & women in each race got one of the fabulous kerosene lanterns. |
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| We all also got a heavyweight baseball tee with the race logo, pictured here with a cup of coffee while I make breakfast on the fire Sunday morning. |
While there might have been a bit of confusion with the course markings here and there, overall this was a fabulous first year for the newest
Happy Trails event. It was a great way for me (and many others) to get a catered night training run in, and I know the shorter distances (10k and 5k) saw many people dipping their toe into night running - or even trail running period - for the first time. For those who were a bit more timid about the dark, the 6pm early start option gave you about 3 hours of daylight (almost double that of the standard 7:30pm start time), so you could theoretically finish the whole course without needing a headlamp. Do be aware that early starters do NOT qualify for any awards, though, as the additional daylight provides an advantage over those who start just an hour before official sunset.
The trail is not really technical at all - a bit roots in places, but that's all - so in a dry year I can see it being a very fast course, since there's so little elevation change. Just enough to walk a hill while you take in nutrition and hydrate here and there, to my (admittedly not very good at running) mind.
It was fun hanging out by the campfire afterward, too, to chat with other runners - while I might have run most of the night alone, the community and camaraderie is one of my favourite things about trail and ultra races.
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| Though why they'd want to hang out with a dork like me is anyone's guess. |
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