Banditry

 Well, not really..

Maybe just call it "unofficial running"

Tank and I had signed on to volunteer all day at the start/finish aid station at The Beav, but I knew I would hate myself if I went out to Hilton Falls and didn't go exploring at least a little. The day before the race, we leafed through the participant guide to see when the start was, as I thought it was 9am but wanted to be sure. To our surprise, there was a 25k early start option that began at 7:30am! The 50k would go at 9am, the 10k at 9:30am, and the standard 25k start would be 1pm - all measures taken to avoid crowding due to the pandemic. This should work perfectly: I'd show up in running kit, take off with the 25k early start and follow the course out to the aid station at the top of the falls, take a few pics of the falls themselves, then head back 5km to the finish. So, basically banditing the 10k route, and hopefully getting back before the 50k set off. No-one would be back to the start/finish from the 25k early start until at least 9:15am and there were some other volunteers signed on to help Tank get set up, so I shouldn't be missed or interfere with anyone's race.

I dressed warm for the chilly morning, brought a huge bag with a full change of clothes and thermos of oatmeal (2 of the requirements for cold weather post-run survival), plus some other snacks, and grabbed my headlamp as an afterthought: I seemed to recall it was pretty dark when we were tearing down after the 2019 edition of this race, at which I'd volunteered as well (I ran the 50k in 2018 - its inaugural year).

As it turned out, I'd need the headlamp right away: sunrise wasn't until 8:01am, which meant it was barely light enough to see when we arrived - later than we'd hoped after I scrambled to get ready, not having done any preparation at all the night before - around 7:15am. I did manage to spot Dee, though; since it turned out she was running the 25k and had taken the early start option, I asked if she'd mind if I tagged along. To my great delight, she was happy to let me tag along!

She's such a wonderful lady, and we could keep each other company for the first 5k!

The first light was just creeping up over the horizon as the pre-race meeting ended and we headed for the start line. 

I mostly tried to stay out of people's way

Jeff sounded the horn bang on 7:30am, and we all trotted through the little loop at the start/finish before prancing off into the woods. We quickly reached the first climb, thickly blanketed in leaves: the hard frosts of the prior couple of nights seemed to have led all the maple trees to dump their foliage all at once, obscuring the many roots and rocks that littered the Bruce side trail as we climbed through the darkness.

Yeah, definitely happy I grabbed that headlamp!

The trail wound along the side of the escarpment, as the dawn glow grew over Kelso to the south.

The runners look so tiny, like they're being led along by their pools of light

I'd forgotten just how aggressive the climbing is in the first mile or so of the course, and was pushed close to the limit of my current abilities trying to keep up...while also standing off to the side to take photos, then running to catch up. I've been feeling quite fatigued and un-fit since the 72hr (which  admittedly was just shy of 3 weeks prior), but I hope I didn't hold anyone back too badly!

I was pleased to get a bit of a rest while waiting at the stile, but disappointed by the number of people who weren't patient enough to do so and just stepped over the fence instead.

Emerging in the field - thickly blanketed in frost with the fall colours blazing beyond - I paused for another photo, hoping to catch some early action shots for Dee.

That's her in the black, moving strong and getting away from me!

I mentioned that she might want to be a bit cautious through this bit on the way back out, as the melting frost could make things a bit muddy and slick, both through the field and the woods above and below. Then we dove back into the forest, for the second - even bigger - climb.

That one.

Dee was moving really strongly as we ascended, getting more comfortable as the dawn began to filter down through the trees to aid our headlamps. While she says she isn't very happy on trails in the dark, you'd never have known it from the way she danced up the steep, root-strewn hill!

Moving and grooving

We reached the top of the climb, and moved through the forested plateau with the first bits of pocked limestone littering the trail. Dee asked if the whole trail was like this, sounding a little intimidated by the idea of 25km of technical trail: I reassured her that only about the first 3km was a bit tricky, then we'd get onto some wide-open groomed trail to the falls, with only a couple of additional sections of rocky, Bruce Trail goodness beyond that. The whole Beaver Dam Trail loop at the far end would be groomed - though flooded, coincidentally enough from a beaver dam - with just a flowy loop of singletrack mountain bike trail off that. 

It's really a nice mix of chancy-but-beautiful and easily runnable terrain

There isn't even much in the way of elevation change once you get up on the plateau where the park is properly situated - just some fairly gentle undulations, though that's not to say they won't tax the legs and lungs.

We weren't quite there yet

We bopped along as the daylight rose, and I switched off my headlamp as we neared the main park trails - I've spent a lot of time on trails past dusk, and have pretty good night vision, so my comfort level is pretty high in low-light situations.

Head of the conga line!

As we reached the groomed trail, I pulled my headlamp off and stuffed it into the back pocket of my vest, running the short stretch to our turn off onto singletrack once more. We paused before the turn so I could pop Dee's headlamp into her pack, then we were treated to one of the prettiest parts of the course!

The rocks, the stream, and a bonus waterfall!

I don't even know if these falls have a name - Dee asked if this was the "Hilton Falls" for which the park is named, but that's further along and not actually a part of the 25k/50k course. We hit them at a gorgeous time, though, with the rising sun turning streaks of cloud into fiery brands across the sky over Kelso.

..and reflecting in the reservoir below

The cascade itself is a bit tricky to see, requiring you to cautiously step out to the edge of a protruding bit of cliff. 

Fortunately my sense of self-preservation is a bit under-developed

Dee and I definitely did not move as efficiently as possible through this bit, because we both appreciate that one of the best things about trail racing is the amazing sights you get to see - we paused to take it all in.

Definitely worth an extra moment

Then it was off through the rest of the rocky Bruce Side Trail section along the cliff edge

This doesn't invite particularly fast progress, either

It's probably the most interesting portion of the park, and in some ways the most unnerving - there are great fissures in the rock, some of which form cave-like structures, others of which go right out to the cliff face.

Don't slip don't slip don't slip

Dee took it all on like a champ, moving gracefully over the landscape of root and stone while I snapped photos.

One day I'll have to go exploring down in those cracks

Soon we were back on groomed trail again, before the sun had even crested the escarpment to the south. 

No, the forest isn't on fire - it just looks that way

I'd told Dee earlier that the trails we'd be on after the singletrack were wide enough to drive a truck on, but imagine our surprise when we actually saw a vehicle coming right for us. I mean, it was a van instead of a truck, but still!

Think you took a wrong turn at Albuquerque there, buddy!

I put it together that it was likely to be the Happy Trails Racing van just a moment before Race Director Jeff stuck his head out the window to offer some encouraging words while we ran on past. Just a couple of minutes later, we reached the first aid station - our paths would now diverge as Dee would carry on along the 25k route, while I was just going to head for the main falls and then back to the start. I got a hug from my lovely friend and sent her on her merry way; upstream along another section of Bruce Side Trail littered with rocks.

I'd have loved to stay with her for the rest of the loop, but I didn't quite feel up to 25km

Down the staircase to the falls - after allaying the aid station volunteers' fears that I was going the wrong way, assuring them I wasn't racing the 25k - I spent some time just watching and listening to the torrent of water rushing over the terraced cliff into the bowl below.

Such a beautiful place

The falls are the turn-around for the 10k course, and to prove that you went down (and back up) the stairs, you take a button with the race logo and present it as your proof when you reach the finish.

I didn't take one, as I wasn't racing
(I also already have one from a past year!)

One more dorky selfie at the falls, then I got on my way - I'd already been out for 52mins, and didn't think I'd be any quicker on the way back!

The ladies at the aid station offered food and drink, but I wasn't racing, so took nothing but photos

Carefully through the rocky bit at the top of the staircase:

Gorgeous, but a bit tricky if you wish to emerge un-damaged

All distances follow a slightly different route back to the start/finish, with more groomed trail and less singletrack.

Bright green: singletrack from the start
Darker green: mostly groomed trail to the falls
Bright blue: 25k course continues
Purple: route back to the start/finish

Runnable, so I ran

I did do some goofy stuff, like setting my phone up on a rubbish bin with a timer:

..which is not a precise science

I was also getting a bit worn out, because I have the speed, agility, and energy of an elderly sloth at the moment. So, I walked some, and paused here and there to take photos as the sun came bursting through the trees.

How kind of you to join us at last!

As I rambled along, I spotted a little side trail that went back out to the smaller, upper falls - I mean, I wasn't racing, and it would be awhile yet before the 50k runners started, so why not pop back over for another look?

The sun really made the colours pop, and the frost glitter

I hit the cliff edge at the perfect time: the rising sun was reflected on the reservoir, casting its golden glow over everything in view.

..and I had it all to myself.

(..so there would be no-one to hear me scream if I fell of the cliff while staring at the falls..)

I am not a morning person, and had not been terribly happy about levering myself out of bed at 5:30am in order to get there before the 7:30am early start...but this view? Totally worth it.

Even apart from the joy of sharing the trail with my wonderful friend earlier.

Back onto the groomed trail after my diversion (the actual course does not go back along the upper falls), I ran into the official photographer Sue on her way out to start shooting! So despite not being a part of the race, I ended up in the photos she posted from it.

Definitely better than my trash can selfie!

I was really starting to feel a bit tired and beat up by the 7km mark - I haven't done any runs longer than about 6km, and most have been between 4-5km in the past few weeks - and a glance at my watch showed me there was no way I was making it back to the start/finish before the 50k runners set off. The best I could do was try to move as efficiently as possible, and hope I wouldn't be in a narrow bit of trail when I met the pack coming the other way.

Unfortunately, despite the rocks being more visible in the daylight, I'm still utterly pants at moving quickly over them

I also couldn't resist taking some more photos, as the sunshine was so gorgeous in the already-stunning forest.

This is why I run trails

As I'd made my way back, I'd wondered if the sun had burned off the frost that had lay so thickly on the grassy field. To my great delight, it had survived so far!

Such a neat effect

As a matter of fact, it was still cold enough at ground level that the footprints from the 25k early start runners - which had stirred up a bit of surface mud - had re-frozen along the trail.

I was definitely happy I'd dressed warmly

Unfortunately, I found myself in the narrow, forested trail of the lower section of the opening climb when the 50k pack appeared coming the other way.

Not a great place for passing

So, I stood off to the side of the trail, leaving as much space as possible for the runners to get on with their race. I even took a few steps alongside the trail here and there, but of course - at this time of year - that comes with consequences in the undergrowth.

I picked up some hitchhikers

I saw a lot of familiar faces, and wished everyone well as they went by - all of them were past me by the time I reached the stile again, and looking back behind me I could watch the line of gently bobbing runners make their way along the grassy field toward the next climb.

Against a background of riotous fall colours

I was grateful to have the stile to myself, so there was no chance I'd hold anyone up while I climbed over it.

..and I could be my dorky self in peace.

Alone once more, I took my time getting down the last bit, as the dirt had been loosened up quite a bit by the ascending runners. I didn't want to slip and fall, as running downhill on the harder, groomed trails had already beaten me up a little.

I didn't need a rock or tree to finish the job

Down at the bottom, the sun had yet to cast its golden glow on the stream below the reservoir - the wild grasses still a mass of frost for the time being.

I could hear some critters rustling in its tangles, though

Even the footbridge over the stream was still frosted over, despite the passage of runners' feet

..though they had clearly tracked some of it off of the woodwork

There was still some lingering mist over the stream itself, too, which I hadn't noticed on my way out

I was grateful I had the time to see it now.

One last little ramble through the jewel tones of autumn

I couldn't have asked for a more beautiful day

..then around the corner to see the sun peeking over the top of the finish arch.

Yes, it took me an hour a forty-three minutes to "run" 10km

I changed out of my sweaty running clothes and into wool leggings and a warm, fleece dress, threw my Beav hoodie from 2018 on overtop for extra warmth, ate my oatmeal, and spent the rest of the day at the aid station with Tank and the other volunteers.

..and didn't take a single photo for the rest of the day, so here's one that Sue got while I was out banditing the course!

I made dozens of cups of hot chocolate, congratulated runners on the results of their hard work, served up hot soup and cold drinks, and generally tried to make myself useful. When the sun dipped below the trail-filled plateau far above us, I lent a hand with tearing down and packing everything into the UHaul truck. Along the way, I got to visit with so many friends - some of whom I hadn't seen for the entirety of the pandemic - and was spoiled with my very own 2021 Beav hoodie.

Which I threw on - tired and with sun- and wind-burned cheeks - after a shower once we finally got home.

So I'm either the world's worst race bandit - in that I have completely failed to keep my secret, didn't take any advantage of the offers of the aid station, and didn't even try to score myself a medal or fake a bib! - or possibly one of the better ones, for giving more of a damn about other people's race than my own goofing around. Either way, it was so much fun, and an absolute delight to have company for the first half!

Even if my selfie skills took a little longer to wake up than I did

Huge congrats to Dee on a fantastic run on a course that certainly isn't easy - you did amazing out there, as did everyone else who came out and gave it a shot! I know I'll be back again next year for...well, something. 

We'll just have to see whether or not I make it official next time..