Rugged Raccoon Trail Race - 50k Raccoon Rumble - Saturday, May 6th, 2023

 Why not have twice as much fun?

..other than being totally undertrained?

Oh, and I was also woken up at 5:15am on Friday by someone apparently driving an icepick into my skull just back of my left temple - the same sort of throbbing, stabbing headache I got as a free gift with my last 2 covid vaccines, but this time I had no explanation for it. I couldn't get back to sleep afterward, but it finally subsided around 1pm...with 26hrs to go until the race start, or maybe 25hrs if I took the early start option. The latter seemed like a really good idea as I had no clue if I was at all capable of coming in under the 7.5hr cutoff; all racers had to be off course by 10:30pm. I definitely was not going to qualify for any awards anyway, but thought I might use the cutoff to sort of flog myself along if I was getting lazy. 

Such were my thoughts as I munched a bacon sandwich at 11am

We arrived at the race site around half past 1pm (after I scarfed down a small thermos of oatmeal on the road), giving me time to pick up race kit and marvel at the absolutely beautiful day.

For real - nicest afternoon of the year so far, or close to it!

They were calling for 17c in the afternoon - definitely t-shirt and skirt weather - heading down to 9c by 10pm, which would call for something a little more insulating, particularly at the pace I expected to be moving toward the end. I left the UltraCooler™ at the start/finish with some layer options, filled my bottles (one in my hand, one in my little vest) with water, and stuffed a bunch of food in my multifarious pockets: gummy candy, more bacon, cookies, plus some actual electrolyte tabs and gels because I guess that sort of thing has its place. 

Though eating "performance nutrition" seems a little extra when my idea of "performance" is trying to beat a 7.5hr cutoff for 50k, and cookies are way more fun

I continued to hem and haw about the early start, but then Dree showed up for the 25k, and had to hustle to make the 2pm start time. I asked if she'd like company for the loop, as long as she didn't mind going super slow. She seemed quite happy with the idea of a trail buddy and was in no rush, so I quickly asked Tina to switch me over to the early start, and then we lined up with the pack.

Such a beautiful day

We'd been told the course was in great condition, and about 90% dry, but as we set off at Race Director Jeff's signal we found squelchy mud in the grass within the first couple of hundred metres. I suppose 10% meant close to 2.5km of mud, which seems more or less accurate - just spread out in patches anywhere from 2m/6.5ft to 5m/16.4ft long all around the 24.5km/15.2mi course. Yeah, it's a little short: I got almost exactly 49km by the end of my second loop. A big change from the usual "extra value" that Race Director Jeff usually includes!

We were not going to complain about a missing half-kilometer here and there

The new addition - I'm not sure if it was for this year or if it was included last year as well, due to having to remove the Field of Burrs trail from the course - was a loop past the boat launch, where Tank and I had paddled from in 2019 a couple of weeks after the race to spend Victoria Day weekend at one of the backcountry sites.

In a pretty little inlet

Dree had never done Rugged Raccoon before, so had no way of knowing how lovely the course is.

It really is a beauty

It's not a particularly dry place, though, as evidenced by the extensive series of boardwalks that extend through various parts of the first half of the course.

They're so lovely and bouncy to run on!

It took a little more than 20mins - maybe 3k while we sweated along in the warm sun - before we found the first patch of real mud.

..and even it was pretty tiny

I knew there would be more to come, though - there are some notoriously muddy patches on both sides of the reservoir, around whose backward-J-shape you travel in clockwise fashion from the start/finish.

There's one small section of 2-way traffic on the road through the park near the beginning and end, but otherwise one big loop

Making the left to follow the Lake Trail away from the main park, I was prepared for mudapalooza but pleasantly surprised to find it merely a bit squishy.

So much nicer than Night of the Living Mud in 2019!

Emerging from the woods for a few moments gave us a beautiful view of the reservoir - our first, really, since the new little loop past the boat launch in the first half-kilometer.

I still don't like how side-sloped this bit of trail is, but I'm fussy

On the other side, the mud began in earnest!

Yep, this is what I was expecting after rain all week leading up to the race

Knowing it was only likely to be worse on the other side of the lake, I splorped right through the middle, while Dree was a little more careful about her foot placement.

I'm not sure she got any less muddy, though

The spring was greening up beautifully in the woods - leaf buds beginning to open, and the understory well advanced.

So nice to see some life again!

Somewhat less green - but still a sight to behold - is the old gravel pit, which we reached after about an hour of running, walking, and me eventually remembering to take in some calories (an Endurance Tap gel slammed in my face around 37mins). We were past the first aid station, which sits just shy of the 5km mark; I'd stopped to fill the little bottle in my vest with the on-course Skratch electrolyte drink, as it was feeling very warm in the afternoon sun.

An extra few feet of running took us out to this informational placard overlooking the gravel pit

You dive back into the woods beyond, down a short hill then up another small climb. I don't know why I always think this race is flat: at 735m of elevation gain it's a little less than half of what Pick Your Poison offers, but that race is at a stinkin' ski hill!

I wouldn't call it hilly and there are no major climbs, but it definitely rolls a bit

A bit more mud and singletrack along the water's edge, giving us our first look at the road bridge at the far end of the reservoir.

Formally known as 29th Line 

You hit the 2nd aid station at about 10km, right where the trail emerges at the road.

Thanks to the folks from the Phoenix Trail Races for volunteering all day!

With bottles filled once more and a chunk of banana in my face (plus a couple of Oreos from my pocket as I realized it was now like 90mins in and I'd only had that single 100cal gel earlier), we set off across the bridge with the bottom of the J of the reservoir shining in the sun.

I'm much more accustomed to seeing this at sunset!

Dree and I took advantage of the downhill from the aid station and the sure footing of the road to put in a bit of a burst of speed.

Relatively, of course

Just as the road starts to turn upward on the other side of the bridge, we made a hard right through the gate to continue on the Lake Trail.

The course - and the trail - are very well marked

I knew it was only a matter of time before we encountered more mud, and of course Wildwood did not disappoint.

The branches helped with the first bit, but there was really no avoiding the rest

Pushing on, we finally reached the longest boardwalk of the course - at least a couple of hundred metres of blissfully mud-free running.

This has historically been about the last place I could manage to run without my headlamp on.

Around 2hrs in I finally remembered that I had salt tabs and should really be taking some, so I downed two not long before we reached the 3rd aid station around 14k, but not before we traipsed through a bunch more mud.

To absolutely no-one's surprise.

I swear the 14k aid station used to be out further, near the 10mi/16k mark, but I may be mis-remembering...and it doesn't matter, since the current course is what I was running. Stop living in the past! Not difficult to do when your find a stunning patch of trilliums in various states of bloom.

Including a large number of the far-less-common red ones!

The forest was absolutely carpeted with them

One of the reasons the far side of the reservoir tends to be muddier is the number of small streams and rills - both permanent and seasonal - that cross the trail as they flow down toward the reservoir. 

It was quite pleasant to be able to see them properly on my first lap, so I wasn't obligated to soak my feet

While they can't be called major, the course is not without its climbs.

Some of which are quite badly washed out

They can be useful, though: like when you have a little pack of gummy candy (Fuzzy Peaches for preference, but in this case I had Swedish Berries) in your pocket and you need a minute to tear them open and pop them in your mouth without dropping them everywhere. Oh, and did I mention there was mud?

Just a teensy bit, you know.

I actually stupidly tried to avoid a muddy section by sticking to the lake side of the trail, and a broken branch gave me a nasty scratch on my bicep for my trouble. I took it as a sign that I was just supposed to get muddy, and was happy I'd applied ample amounts of Trail Toes lubricant to my little piggies before putting on my socks that morning. 

Water levels in the reservoir were also very high from the week's rain

We kept on trucking along, and I finally remembered I had some bacon in my pocket (in a plastic zipper baggie, ya weirdo), so offered some to Dree. She happily accepted, and we shared a moment of salty deliciousness as we continued our progress along the shore.

..and through another muddy rivulet

I threw back another Endurance Tap gel as well, as bacon is delicious but carbohydrates are definitely a little better for running. As we came to a break in the trees, we could see across the reservoir to the start/finish at the big picnic shelter.

Tank has told me it looks really neat watching from there and seeing headlamps bobbing along across the water at night

Then the trail turns away from the shore, and up another washed-out, not-insignificant climb.

I'd never seen this one in daylight before

A lovely little footbridge crosses a slightly more major stream.

With a beautiful patch of lily of the valley coming up beyond

Just beginning to bud - this spot will smell amazing in a couple of weeks!

A short climb brings you out to the tail end of 117 Rd, and the driveway to the Wildwood Sailing Club. Cross that, then you'll find a couple of hundred metres of a narrow single track worn through the grass.

Follow the ridge

I think the road crossing might have been where my right ankle gave a nasty twinge: it has been feeling a little shin splints-y at times lately, so I hoped it would be ok for the second loop (not to mention the remainder of the first). On the other side, you'll come down a sharp little drop to a wooden bridge over a ditch at the edge of Perth Hwy 7.

Dree emerging

The road is pretty busy, so it's crucial to watch for the high-speed (it's an 80kph/50mph zone) traffic and pick your moment to cross carefully. On the far side, around the 20k mark and across another wooden bridge over the ditch, you'll find the final aid station!

It used to be on the other side of the road, but I'm willing to bet people were being inattentive of traffic while departing.

From the hill atop which the aid station tent now sits, you have a stellar view down the road to the dam toward which the trail would eventually lead us. I admired the scenery and popped another salt tab.

I'll take "things you can't see in the dark" for 100, Alex

There's another stretch of woodsy trail, then you come out to Perth Line 9 and make a sharp right to run down the shoulder and across a river - the outflow from the dam that forms the reservoir around which you've already (mostly) run. 

Looking upstream

The road turns uphill past the bridge, but fortunately we didn't have to climb it: the Lake Trail joins the Avon Trail near the bottom of the incline.

Where the red arrow points - there was race signage, plus the Lake Trail & Avon Trail signs

Back into the forest to wind through the trees a bit - it was clear by this point that I'd be over 3.5hrs for the first loop, which made me happy that I'd taken the early start...not to mention the delight of being able to share it with Dree.

We spent a lot of the "race" picking out neat sights, like giant fallen trees, or this one highlighted by the sun

One of the most powerful features on the course was just ahead: the bottom of the dam. Race Director Jeff had told us that it was geysering at its outflow due to the huge amount of rainfall earlier in the week, and he was definitely not wrong!

The sound was incredible in person!

Of course I spent some time getting in other people's way for photos.

Poor Dree ended up with an idiot in hers

I'd never seen anything quite like it - the water shooting up at least 2m/6ft in the air.

The dam structure is huge

What was even stranger was that there was a little secondary geyser just off the trail: it was only spurting about a foot high, but I couldn't see what was causing it.

It gave off a whiff of sulphur, but the deposits on the surrounding rock were white instead of the yellow you'd expect from suphurous water. Calcium? Lime? Bird poo? Who knows?

I have zero photos of the winding, pine forested next bit of the course - you'll just have to trust me. The tree cover is so dense in there that even with full sun, it felt very dark and gloomy, and gave a taste of the evening chill that would follow the day's heat. Once you go up one more not-insignificant climb then emerge from the woods, there's one more mud puddle (because of course there is), and then the trail leads you under the road and back into the park by the gatehouse.

The end is nigh!
(Of the lap, that is)

Right turn onto the paved driveway through the park - you ran this in the other direction on the way out, and likely drove it on the way in to park for the race.

At which point it probably felt much less like the speed sign was throwing shade at your pace

Left turn toward the boat launch, and keep running because race photographer Sue Sitki is perched on the road waiting to capture you in action!

Whoops - I kind of ditched Dree

Now a right turn to head down the flag-lined laneway toward the finish chute.

It would look even cooler after dark - wait and see!

Follow the flag-lined driveway past the on-course medical team and down toward the big picnic shelter.

Hey I recognize that lake!

Through the archway to collect your medal...or if you're dumb enough, to get set for a second lap!

At least it would be cooler

I bade Dree and her partner Kevin - who had walked the 10k - goodbye, then turned to the task of getting myself ready to head back out. I actually managed to take care of everything I needed to, which has got to be some kind of first: I changed from the light short-sleeve shirt I'd been wearing into a longsleeve wool with a half-zip, threw on my waist light, unloaded all the garbage from the first lap (empty Endurance Tap gel packets, empty packet of Swedish Berries) from my vest, re-loaded my little snack baggie with 4 more Oreos from the UltraCooler™, grabbed a couple more Endurance Tap gels plus a caffeinated sea salt chocolate Gu Roctane gel, stowed my headlamp in my vest pocket, threw a folded tubular gaiter over my ears (because my precious arse gets headaches if the temperature drops below 12c and I don't have my ears covered), and changed to a foam-front trucker hat from the canvas-fronted hat I'd been wearing for extra comfort when wearing a headlamp. Oh, and Tank filled my hand bottle with water for me.

Yep, I'm pretty high maintenance.

It took me about 6 minutes to accomplish all of that, which is pretty decent when you consider that I'm not very bright at the best of times, and with a smooch from my honey I was on my way again at 5:41pm - the 25k race used to start at 7pm, so despite the sun sun beginning its downward journey toward the horizon, I knew I'd have significantly more light than I was accustomed to for the remaining 24.5km. I told myself I'd take it easy: I had nearly 5 hours until the cutoff thanks to the early start, and since I was signed up to play hockey the next evening, the smart thing would be just to ramble along and walk a lot so I could be in better shape when I finished.

Now ask yourself if you believe I did the smart thing.

There was a young fellow with mid-length curly hair with whom I'd played a bit of airborne caterpillar since I set off for lap 2, and I came upon him in the woods just past the group camping site at which we'd stayed with the Happy Trails crew last year, bent over and looking less than happy. I asked if he was ok, and he said he was cramping - I asked if he had salt, and when he said "if you do that'd be great", I handed over a couple of my s!caps saying "Take two of these and call me in the morning"

Then I ran away

With fewer people on course and ideas about lounging my way along, I paused to take in some of the views as the shadows began to lengthen.

This right here? This is why I do this stuff

While that shin splints-y feeling in my ankle had fortunately gone away after just that one twinge, other bits of me were starting to report that they were feeling a bit ill-used, and I still had quite a long way to go.

Some of which was on terrain that warranted a bit of attention

I ate a little pack of mini Fuzzy Peaches, reminding myself once more of why they're bloody near the perfect ultra food: pure carbohydrates with enough sourness to cut the sugar, and a decent hit of salt to boot. I needed it, too: I was starting to feel like an idiot for putting on a long sleeve shirt, and had rolled the sleeves up to my forearms with the zip wide open in an effort to dump some heat. The tubular gaiter on my ears felt very warm, too, but I didn't remove it as I knew I was likely to need it later and didn't want to have to fuss with it. I'd just have to moderate my pace to keep myself from overheating, and I continued to sip on the Skratch electrolyte drink from the bottle in my vest, keeping it full from the aid stations along the way.

Occasionally, I'd actually run

It was a bit different view from the bridge this time after I passed the 10k aid station: a skiff of high cloud briefly obscured the sun, the glare making the water shine like mercury.

Also providing a bit of relief from the heat

Now a little more than 5 hours deep, I was trying to be better about nutrition than I had been on my first lap, so I stuffed a chunk of bacon in my mouth as I headed for the huge boardwalks.

Now shaded by the low trees

I had been delighted to discover that some of the muddier sections on the start/finish side of the reservoir were actually drier than the first lap: my fellow participants had made some inroads on walking those mudholes dry. The far side, though?

Slightly less so

Some of the faster 25k runners started to come past me as I wandered through the forest, still enjoying the sun slanting through the trees.

Even as my lower back started to whine, as it does

I was still moving pretty well, though - I actually entertained the idea of trying for a negative split, or at least even splits. That didn't stop me from pausing to admire the beauty around me, though.

Like this perfect red trillium

I managed the first real stream crossing in daylight again, with (relatively) dry feet.

This is usually complicated by darkness

I will say that most of even the muddiest stretches now seemed to have a merely squishy path to one side or another, which I was able to successfully use without further assaults from tree branches.

In some places, though, you just had to splash on through

I will emphasize this once again: the course was in the best shape I've ever seen it. If you're the sort who hates a muddy race, I'll suggest that Rugged Raccoon is not your jam. 

..and also that maybe you try it anyway, because mud puddles can be fun!

The sunset was starting to develop as I passed 15km, and a fellow who had blown past me earlier - one of the 3pm 50k starters - who was walking along slowly. He asked me what the cutoff was, and I told him 7.5hrs, saying he had plenty of time. He said he was cramping badly, having taken all his salt earlier and gone out too hard in the heat of the afternoon. I stopped to let him catch up, and dropped my last s!cap in his hand.

I also suggested he try some Skratch from the aid stations, but he said it makes him ill

I wished him well and kept on moving, pushing harder than I expected to be able to this deep into the race with no long runs since March. I swear the worst thing that ever happened to my training (ok, apart from some chronic issues that make it almost impossible to do high volume weeks without something going sideways) is discovering that enough years of ultras will let you complete them despite an almost total lack of preparedness, as long as you run pretty consistently (for me that's 6 days per week) and are willing to suffer quite a lot in the later miles.

With some compensations, of course

I took the caffeinated gel around 6.25hrs in, with about of 6km left to go - I hoped it would amp me up a bit as the light began to fail. I had almost wondered if I might get away without using my lights at all, but I wasn't quick enough. I didn't mind too much, as I'd have been torqued if I carried the extra weight around for nothing! My headlamp is pretty light, but the waist light I use is an older model that has a bit of heft to it, and it would have raised my ire had I not needed to bother with it.

The last aid station! 4.5k to go from here.
The gentleman directing racers at the road crossing is apparently a blog reader, and thanked me for my race reports - thanks for reading, my dude!

 As I headed out for the final leg of the course - after thanking the wonderful volunteers and filling my hand bottle one last time - I saw people running fast coming in my direction with headlamps blazing.

What in the cinnamon toast crunch is this?

It took me a couple of minutes of them whipping past me to figure out they were 10k runners doing the night race, or at least that was the only explanation I could come up with...particularly since a number of the ones who'd passed me going the opposite way passed me going in my direction not too long afterwards.

Sunset over the big field, with the trail cutting a path between it and some baby pine trees

Once I reached the pine forest, I was definitely glad to have my waist light!

I was a bit surprised there were neither glow sticks nor reflective strips for course markers, but I had no trouble navigating with the proliferation of pink wire flags

As I emerged at Perth Road 9 and turned to run down the hill, I had probably my favourite moment of the race: a young, dark-haired fellow in a blue t-shirt came running up behind me and said "Hey, I know you! You're a legend!" I could only laugh at that as he left me in his dust - I definitely wasn't a Hall of Fame qualifier for anything, so I kept wondering if he meant like a unicorn or wendigo; something that existed more in rumour than reality.

But if I wasn't real, why did my legs and butt hurt so much?

The dusk was sufficient that I could get away with just my waist light as I trotted past the dam again.

Still geysering - I didn't go off-trail to see the other little waterspout this time

Once I dove back into the pine forest, I found myself finally grateful for the longsleeve shirt (though I never did up the neck zip), and pulling out my headlamp to supplement the waist light so I could run comfortably over the multifarious roots: I'd had to walk a great deal of the second half of the course when I forgot my headlamp in 2021 and had to roll along with my waist light only. I was past the point of being able to throw down a negative split, but I could probably come close to even if I was able to keep pushing.

Which was going to take all the light I had

I pretty much stopped taking photos from there, and just put my head down and pushed. Not as hard as some, though! As I came out of the woods, through the final mud patch, the young curly-haired lad to whom I'd given two of my salt tabs at the start of the second loop came running past me! I gave him a WOO and "way to rally!", and as he left me behind I heard him call over his shoulder "You're an angel!" He couldn't be more wrong, but it made me smile a lot as I trotted under the road, and into the park where I didn't really need my lights anymore as there are streetlamps along the paved driveway. I didn't bother to turn them off, though: Tank would know it was me coming into the finish by my waist light, and I hoped he wasn't worrying about me. I ran all the way to the top of the dirt laneway, then paused for just a moment.

Just to get this pic of the laneway lined with flameless tea lights - one of the awesome things about this race!

Then it was down the chute and through the finish, as twilight settled over the lake.

I, too, could see headlamps bobbing along the far side this time!

Official time: 7:13:42 @ 8:41/km

42/53 O/A (48 finishers) - 15/21 Women (19 finishers) - 4/5 W40-44

(Official results are here - Garmin data is here)

Looks like I'd have made the cutoff after all!

I didn't feel super great when I finished - I certainly wasn't going to head out for another lap! - but I wasn't in too rough a shape, and had run pretty strong in the second half. My usually-cranky left hip had been quite cooperative, for which I was grateful; almost as grateful as I am to the volunteers and organizers who do such an incredible job taking care of us on course. There's a lot to be said for stumbling around in the woods eating cookies and candy, and having kind people every few kilometers to give you water and snacks, cheer for you, and then put a medal around your neck!

They don't even complain about the smell, which is truly a heroic feat!

For myself, I'm quite pleased with my effort level for this one: it might have been smarter to go a little easier in the second half so I wouldn't be quite so beat up for the next day (though my quads gratefully waited until after I got off the ice to become horribly painful and make stairs a misery), but if you take out the 6mins I spent getting my kit sorted between loops - the time for which was added to my second lap - I did actually manage a negative split after all.

Not to mention some quite muddy toes

I'm most grateful to Tank for his undying support - I definitely could not do this stuff without him! - and also for the company of my friend Dree, who made the first lap an absolute delight.

She's off to run a across the UK and I wish her endless strong and blister/chafing free miles!

I wish I'd been able to hang out to see the last finishers come in and help pack up the start/finish area, but some volunteers showed up who'd signed up just for tear-down, and I got a bit chilled, so we headed home around 10pm - an incredible full moon rising beside the highway as we sped through the night.

It would have been amazing to see this over the lake!

If you have races coming that will require you to run through the night - or just want to get more comfortable doing so - this is definitely a fantastic event to do so in a fairly safe, controlled environment. A 50k also makes a great training run for a 24hr or 100mi, so why not give it a whack?

It's an experience you'll never forget!