We had the best trail conditions I'd ever seen for last year's Horror Trail. Had to know it was too good to last..
Pretty much sums it up.
The rain that began overnight was predicted to end around 1pm, with the skies clearing to partly cloudy by 3pm - right as the 6-hour was to end. Charming, no?
Race morning arrived and I was tired, sore and cranky. I had no race nerves, but also no stoke - unusual, as this has always been one of my favourite events. Between quite a bit of racing in the few weeks prior and some female biology-related stuff, though, I wasn't really feeling it - I knew it wasn't going to be a PR day, and was more than happy to go back to bed for a 40min nap after having my early-morning bowl of oatmeal. Ahh, the simple joys of local races!
Back up and out the door with time to grab a coffee and arrive at Camp Heidelberg with over an hour before race time, I did all the usual pre-race chatting with people, lubing up various bits that rub, flailing of limbs in an attempt to get them ready for punishment, and threw on my Halloween costume.
Peace, love and running, man!
I managed to completely forget to tape up my still-damaged left ankle, but at least had the wherewithal to sprinkle copious amounts of BlisterShield powder in my socks before I put them on. I knew it was going to get muddy, and my feet get pretty munched in muddy conditions unless I take precautions.
All too quickly (as I needed to pee again but had no time before the start), we all lined up - a few others were in costume as well - and then set off. Rich gave Tanker his camera for some start line video:
A post shared by Rich.P 🇨🇦 (@run_adventures) on
Apparently Tanker slipped on some wet grass while filming, and that section was cut to make the video flow better. Conveniently, I am only visible in the section that ended up on the editing room floor.
Things didn't start out too badly: the rain was quite light and it was just barely warm enough that I could get away with just my costume. The peace sign glasses provided surprisingly good range of vision for most things, but it became rapidly apparent that I was holding my head awkwardly trying to peer over the bottom of the to see the somewhat rooty trail. With an already-sore lower back (thanks, hormones!), I knew that the poor posture would leave me hurting quite quickly, so I ditched the glasses right after my first lap.
"Got a pic of it all together? Good - now TAKE THESE DAMN THINGS!"
My un-taped ankle whined a bit in the first couple of laps, then graciously shut the hell up and let me get on with things. I also managed to hit a portajohn on about my 3rd lap to finally have that pee I'd been waiting on. What was very odd, though, is that I was getting an intermittent vibrating sensation in my lower left leg just above the ankle - right where my timing chip strap was. It almost felt like the chip was vibrating, but having dismantled one in the past (just to see what was inside) I know it's just a coil of copper wire and only receives power from the timing mats as you pass them. The vibration had no correlation to my proximity to the mats, nor did the timing company guys have any idea what might cause a chip to vibrate. I couldn't discern any pattern to the sensation either: sometimes it would come on after I dropped to a walk after running a bit, sometimes it would happen while running, and sometimes I'd notice it after I'd been walking for awhile. It was neither painful nor hindering - just bloody puzzling.
Through the woods - I could probably run this trail with my eyes closed by this point.
On second thought maybe not.
The other sensation that was rather more annoying was the string of beads - real wooden beads from the sixties, on loan from my awesome Mum - bouncing against my chest. I ditched them with Tanker after about 6 laps as I'd had enough. The mud was already starting to be a factor, with one particular section just above the major 2-part climb on the course deteriorating into an un-runnable mess of slippery mud before I even got 10k in.
By the end of the day all my red tags on this map would just read "MUD"
Oh, and maybe "broken board", since 2 holes appeared in the first hour or so of the race.
So, there was an increasing amount of walking happening as the laps progressed. Fortunately all the stuff I could control went fairly well: I only tweaked my damaged left ankle a couple of times, and in very minor fashion such that it didn't hurt until after the race was done. I gave my right ankle a bit of a wrench when it slipped sideways in the mud, but it's been ok since. Nutrition was fine, if a bit light: I had 3 sips of slightly dilute EFS Liquid Shot from my flask (around 40mins, 1h45m and 2h30m), 2 of my salted maple crisp rice squares (1h5m, 4h), 4 corn chips (2h - Tostitos Rolls are the bomb!), a mini chocolate chip cookie (3h), and a chunk of banana from the aid station (3h30m) and one small piece of salty, delicious bacon (4h). I also broke into the caffeine for the last part of the day with a couple of sips of watered-down sea salt chocolate Gu Roctane gel from a flask (4h45m, 5h15m) just to sharpen me up a bit.
Partly to avoid stepping on the right side of the farthest board, since it would then try to launch you off into the woods
Unfortunately it couldn't be used as a springboard to vault up the hill.
All told I took in about 650cal - a little more than 100cal per hour, which I suppose isn't far off my usual. Maybe it just felt like I ate lightly since it was one of the shortest-durationracesI'vedonethis year (so I needed to eat less overall than usual), possibly because I didn't have my turkey wrap (I just wasn't hungry for it), or maybe it's because I wasn't taking in S!caps - I wasn't really sweating enough in the chilly, wet air to warrant it (EDIT: apparently I couldn't math when I wrote this, as I'm usually closer to 150-200cal per hour during ultras. So yes, I ate quite a bit less than usual). My hands didn't even swell much, which was a good thing because at some point my steel tunnel/gauge fell out of my left ear and was swinging on the ring that goes through it. With a crisp rice square and my water bottle in my right hand, I actually managed to finagle it back into place (ceasing the clanking racket it was making) left-handed, while running around the pond, and with gloves on! Probably the greatest feat of manual dexterity I've ever accomplished.
And noone saw it.
This was doubly impressive given that my hands and wrists had taken a beating. I believe it was my 7th lap that saw me get about 3/4 of the way up the mud-slicked major hill, then have my foot go out from under me and fall right onto my hands.
FWAAAAAAA-*splat*
I hit pretty hard, and since my bottle (which got smushed but wasn't damaged, though the mouthpiece got a bit unpleasantly muddy) was in my right hand it led to my right wrist being painfully over-extended with a large percentage of my bodyweight resting on it. I wasn't really hurt, but neither of my hands or wrists was comfortable, and my shoulders got tight and sore as the day wore on. I still had 11 laps to go to make the distance I wanted, too - in spite of the tough conditions, I was really hoping to make 45km for the day.
Rich at the top of the hill.
You can see where other runners' feet have slid in the mud
Fortunately in subsequent laps I was able to safely pick my way up the left side of the hill, where there are some roots and branches to offer some stability under the cover of fallen leaves. I managed to stay upright for the rest of the day, but I couldn't resist telling Debbie it was her fault I'd taken a spill: when I'd talked to her that morning she was laughing and saying that I always fall, but I told her that I almost never fall at Horror Trail - just that one time 5 years ago when I slipped in the mud on my way up a hill in the upper woods. Welp, make that twice now.
Just above the big hill - this is the bit that got bad first.
Unfortunately the tumble onto my hands and the ensuing soreness made gripping and squeezing my water bottle - necessary to be able to drink from it - rather difficult for a few laps. I stayed on top of hydration, though, having to hit a portajohn again before the 4-hour mark. It was getting chillier and chillier as the day progressed: I had to put on a wind vest after my 11th lap as I was getting close to hypothermic, and I strongly considered changing from the stretchy little Mizuno Breath Thermo gloves I was wearing into a pair of windproof gloves I had stowed in my cooler bag at the aid station.
It never happened - the wind vest was just enough
Some parts remained runnable
Other parts less so.
As it got colder and muddier, I was having less fun. Snot rockets were a thing. I took a big drip of cold rain right down my cleavage, and then another in the small of my back. I had some kind of weird cramp or heartburn near my sternum around 4h in, but it went away when I took in some calories. It came back again around 5h15m right after I took a sip of caffeinated gel, though, then disappeared once more a few minutes later. Still have no idea what that was about.
Still lots of green for the end of October
Lots of lovely fall colour as well, though.
And, of course, the relentless mud.
As the day progressed my body kept complaining more and more about the conditions. First my hamstrings got whiny, then my glutes, then finally my entire hip girdle on both sides. My adductors, abductors and every other little tiny stabilizer muscle in my lower body was screaming at me by three quarters of the way through the race.
Gee, I can't imagine why.
Still running though!
At least this bit of sketchy downhill just before you exit the lower woods didn't get too slippery.
I'm sure the mud was about the worst I've ever seen at Horror Trail, despite having raced in both rain and snow before. You'd never know from lap to lap what section would turn out to be un-runnable this time - it was at least as bad as Sulphur Springs this year by the end, with no similar hope of the mudholes being walked dry.
Even the gravel driveway got very splashy.
Ontario ultra legend Hans Maier coming up out of the lower woods.
I may have been having a bit of a tough time out there, but this race has always been first and foremost about the people for me. Offering an encouraging word to others as you pass them on the trail; chatting with fellow runners for awhile if you happen to fall into step with someone; sharing a laugh with the wonderful people at the aid station who take care of us all day long. I'm even lucky enough to be able to get a few smooches along the way.
Tanker in his bright green rain jacket making everyone's day a little easier, and my own life infinitely better.
The upper woods were no better than the lower ones when it came to muddy conditions.
I rather profited from someone else's tough day, too, in that Rich decided by his 16th lap (my 15th) that he was too hurting from the slippery mud to keep pushing. So, he hung back and meandered along with me for the last quarter of the race. I was delighted to have the company on such a cold, miserable day, and we had fun whingeing about what bits were sore, which bits were going numb, and fantasizing about hot showers and a steaming cup of coffee after the race.
Rich clowning a little on the way down to the pond.
Tanker got a photo of us as we set out for our last lap.
We did actually run from time to time, too!
Having managed 16 laps for 40km in a hair over 5hrs, I was basically assured of reaching my goal of 45k for the day, so I grabbed the camera from Tank for my 17th lap to record the conditions. Rich was very specific about making sure I let everyone know in my race report that they were SHITTY, and I couldn't agree more! Even trying to re-frame it in my mind as just a fun splash through mud puddles hadn't worked to improve my outlook, especially after I nearly fell a few times due to the slickness of the trail. Cornering became very treacherous, and I had to employ some interpretive dance moves to prevent toppling as I tried to come to a stop to get some of the pics you see here. I also nearly ran a couple of people over as it was very hard to control pace; no sudden moves were possible past 4.5hrs.
Like a skating rink, only messier.
Even the grassy downhill from the upper woods got churned up.
The start/finish fared no better than the rest of the course, and I was careful on the mats each time as they can be very slippery when wet.
Of course, stopping every minute or two to take photos meant that I wasn't working nearly as hard as I had been, so I started to freeze in the cold wind and relentless rain. I was quite happy to ditch the camera with Tank and get one last smooch as I headed out on my 18th lap, which would give me the desired 45km for the day. I was able to warm up just enough as I chased Rich through the mud to keep myself from shivering. With just over 13mins left to go as we came through on our final full lap, it fell out the way it almost always does: I'd end up having to climb the big stinkin' hill one more time before the horn blew to end the day.
I don't think I can blame all of the pace decay on the mud, but it was definitely the main factor.
My Garmin map - basically turned 90* clockwise from the course map above
Full workout data is here
Somehow on that partial lap I ended up absolutely covered in burrs that I missed every other time - neither Rich (who was burr-less) nor I can figure out what the hell happened there. In any case, the horn blew with about 200m left to go to the exit of the lower woods, so we picked our way out. We actually even ran a bit (after dropping our bags of pasta to mark our position at the end of the 6 hours) because it was easier to stay upright while running than walking - the extra pressure at foot plant gave you better grip in the slop!
My lack of hunger through the race disappeared as we walked out of the woods, and my stomach gave a mighty roar demanding ALL THE FOOD. As I reached my cooler full of deliciousness and tore into a turkey bacon wrap, I looked around and realised the predictions had been exactly right. Not only had the rain stopped in the last few minutes of the race, but within moments after the horn blowing the damn sun had come out!
SONOFABITCH
Oh yes, blue skies NOW.
I limped my way up to the building, shivering in the cold wind and still bedraggled from the hours of rain, sore out of all proportion with the distance I'd covered for the day. I swear I was actually in better shape after 50 miles in the Haliburton Forest 7 weeks beforehand than after a piddling 47km practically in my own backyard!
Which was suddenly looking much more welcoming.
At least it was nice and sunny out for me to use the icy water from the hose to try to rinse the worst of the mud off my shoes and gaiters. I still made an awful mess in the Rehkopf building taking my footwear off, though.
Not that I'd managed to get all of the clumps off.
No complaints!
My feet were actually in remarkably good shape, though, for having spent hours with mud squelching right into my socks. I'm really grateful to have discovered BlisterShield, as I know it was definitely the difference between my relatively unscathed tootsies and some painful blistering in the muddy conditions.
While I was disappointed to miss out on a post-race massage (while too busy eating, removing muddy footwear, cleaning up my mess and changing into dry clothes), I was pleasantly surprised to hear my name called as the 3rd woman overall in the 6 hour race. I was actually in the bathroom at the time, and managed to coax myself into a hobbling run in my comfy Keen clogs to go claim my prize! It was actually the second furthest I've ever gone in the 6 hour at Horror Hill despite the challenging trail conditions, so I have the added bonus of feeling like I'm getting stronger even when carrying fatigue.
The best reward of all, though, is the time spent with friends old and new on the trail. It may have been a tough day, and I may still be feeling the effects (mostly just a bit of achiness in my hips after returning to running, plus some arthritic-feeling soreness in my hands from my tumble) even now almost a week later, but that just makes the memories of friendly faces in the woods all the more poignant.
Cliff, myself and Rich just after the race.
They both did amazing, clearing more than 50km on the day!
Now it's time for a bit of easy-peasy, do-what-I-want training for a month before I get back down to business in December. I've got big plans for 2018, and even the 176.87km of racing I put in during the last 7 weeks of my season will count as building blocks for what's to come!
Instead of a Campsgiving backcountryexpedition as we've done the past 2 years, I ended up racing on Thanksgiving weekend. After that, I took a day off (well, I actually ended up running Sunday morning, but that's another story), then Monday we packed up and Tuesday morning we set off North to explore a new-to-us park. I hadn't been there in about 2 decades, and Tanker had never been there at all, so we had loads to discover!
We arrived in sunshine at our Kilcoursie Bay campsite, right on the stunning beach opposite Scott Island.
If it hadn't been 15c I might've dived right in.
As it was we enjoyed a lovely sunset, and then some s'mores around the fire.
Despite the chilly air the next morning, I managed to keep my "no pants before coffee" streak while camping alive with the aid of a morning fire and some recently acquired warm clothing.
Wednesday we only got to enjoy a single trail in the park before leaving for a pointless road trip (note to self: always check if you have concert tickets before making camping reservations, and don't believe that a band who was amazing for 20 years will still be worth a 500km round trip), but we did absolutely love the Lighthouse Point Trail.
Amazing blend of rocks and trees on the way to the point
Incredible striation in the rock
The lighthouse itself
Then we saw this gorgeous young buck right by the park office!
We finally got home to our campsite after being surrounded by hipsters and horrified by what an oldschool punk band has become around 3am, sleeping far past Thursday's dawn but awaking to sunshine once more.
Our sprawling campsite
Toasting bagels over our morning fire
We added an extra tarp as it was predicted to rain most of Friday.
After a hearty brunch in the chilly air, I got out for my first run in a few days - on the delightful Lookout Point Trail, which at 3.5km is the longest singletrack trail in the park. Lollipop-shaped, I ran it out along the "stick", then did the "lolly" clockwise until I reached the "stick", then turned around and ran it counter-clockwise.
The "stick" is mostly boardwalks through wetland areas
Neat rocks in the woods and lots of colourful fallen leaves
My skirt fit right in!
The actual lookout over Georgian Bay
Classic Canadian Shield rock along the shore
I met up with Tanker - who was hiking the trail clockwise - at the point after I turned around.
Lots of rocky bits in the woods
Sunshine through the trees here and there
Neat rock shoulders rising up out of the soil.
The wind had stirred up a lot of chop during the day, but as afternoon turned to evening the wind settled and we decided to try paddling Kilcoursie Bay. I packed up a couple of sandwiches I'd made while cooking brunch and we headed for the water.
50m carry from our site to the beach
The bay was still a little rougher than we'd have liked for the first leg - 1.5" troughs in a 16' canoe are a bit intense!
We made it safely to Davy Island for our picnic!
Neat clouds and rough water from Davy Island
We paddled across the mouth of Kilcoursie Bay to check out Harold Point, happy to finally reach its wind shadow and the calm waters therein. The sun was setting, so we decided to head straight back as we hadn't brought lights - the wind died to a whisper as the day came to a close, and we were guided back to our site by a flaming red sugar maple on the edge of the beach.
Harold Point at the East side of Kilcoursie Bay
No better beacon for finding our way home.
We did a lot of campfire cooking throughout the week - toasting bagels, using our Dutch oven for some baking, and even trying out our Gourmet Camper grill. Designed by an Ontario Parks staff member, it's perfectly sized for the steel fire rings that are ubiquitous at parks throughout the province. The end result was fabulous; well worth the $30 we paid for the grill!
Zucchini, asparagus and mushrooms on the grill. We added steaks toward the end for a perfect meal!
Then for some added decadence, I loaded up the Dutch and made what ended up being the best cherry cobbler I've ever had in my life.
Scared it'll burn - scared it'll be undercooked.
Golden perfection! The individual foil bowls meant zero cleanup, too.
As promised, Friday began as a wet and windy day. We were perfectly happy to huddle under the tarps making a leisurely brunch of French toast - at least it was milder, as the wet and gusting wind would not have permitted a morning fire.
Scott Island looking very lonely - the rain made the further islands disappear.
After brunch, we nonetheless set out to hike the Twin Points Trail. The weather mostly cooperated, with only a couple of showers at the beginning and end of what turned out to be a lovely wander.
Still lots of green in the forest for October
We sat and had a snack on this bench at the very Western tip of Kilcoursie Bay
Looking past the point and across the narrow channel to our picnic spot on Davy Island
Looking East toward Harold Point and beyond
The second point - closer to the day-use beach - with Scott Island in the distance
Returning to our campsite, I changed and headed out for a run on the Recreation Trail. Opened in 2003 through the hard work and donations by the Friends of Killbear, it spans the length of the park as a 6km groomed multi-use pathway. While not as spectacular as the hiking trails, it had enough elevation change to keep you on your toes, and its own particular brand of beauty.
Lovely fall colours
Happy girl despite some steep little climbs
A pretty leaf-strewn stream beside the trail
Looking out to Lighthouse Point from the beach at the terminus of the trail
On my way back I was even lucky enough to spot a young doe grazing near the entrance to the Kilcoursie Bay campground. While she took no notice of me initially, I managed to get her attention for a photo.
The deer in the park are so very acclimatized to human contact.
A steady stream of people had been arriving in the park through the afternoon to camp for the weekend (despite the poor forecast for Saturday night into Sunday), and I ran past many of them setting up tents, tarps and hammocks as I came into Kilcoursie Bay. Returning to our site, I grabbed a quick snack and changed into dry clothes, having noted that the bay was looking much calmer than it had in the last couple of days. We grabbed our canoe and set off for a paddle around Scott Island in the last of the afternoon.
A whole bunch of seagulls awaited our arrival
The fall colours on tiny Scott Island were much more vivid on the far side
With just a few minutes left before sunset on our final full day in the park, there were only a couple of other things I had wanted to see. One of them was the big shoulder of smooth granite we'd seen at the Beaver Dams campground as we'd paddled past on Thursday, so after consulting our park map we drove over after putting the canoe to bed to have a look.
You'd never know there was a bustling campground on the other side of that rock.
Classic Georgian Bay view, with just a hint of sunset to the Southwest.
Then it was back to our site for one more campfire, over which Tanker cooked us up an amazing mincemeat fire pie.
He's so good with this thing.
OM NOM NOM
I awoke early on Saturday morning and enjoyed the peaceful stillness before the campground came alive with the fresh batch of campers who'd arrived the day before - while we'd been mostly alone in our particular circle of Kilcoursie Bay, a few more brave souls had appeared to brave the rain that was to come. A few spells of light mist in the early morning were all we saw of it, though, with sunshine breaking by 9am so we were actually able to pack up our campsite dry for nearly the first time this year!
Saturday morning sunshine
The best look we got at the fall colours along the Western side of Kilcoursie Bay
We were all packed up with the canoe loaded securely by around noon, so decided to drive over to the Amphitheatre parking lot and hike down to Harold Point to clamber around on the rocks. It was a perfect afternoon - the lightest of breezes; gorgeous sunshine; cool enough that you didn't get all hot and sweaty but mild enough to be comfortable in a light sweater.
Love the ruggedness of the rocks and windswept trees
Looking across Kilcoursie Bay with the hump of Davy Island in the distance
Tank down on the tip of Harold Point
Joining him and looking back up the point
One last look at Lighthouse Point in the distance
We thoroughly enjoyed our stay, though we weren't terribly sorry to be leaving when we did. There were potentially damaging winds and torrential rain - leftovers of some of this year's historic tropical storm season - blowing in that very evening, and we'd scheduled our stay so we'd have a full day to unpack before returning to work on Monday. The only thing I would have changed about our visit to Killbear was the stupid roadtrip on Wednesday afternoon/evening/night: I would rather have been sitting 'round a fire even in the freezing temperatures at the park than wasting most of a day on a disappointing show.
There was even a small farewell party at the park gate as we left.
The stay in the park did me a world of good, too. I'd been having some trouble with my right calf being unreasonably tight for the past couple of months, and the few days off running after the Sticks n'Stones 50k combined with some easy hiking, a bit of trail running, and lots of relaxing seems to have helped it resolve. Even if it hadn't, though, I wouldn't trade those days spent right in the heart of Georgian Bay for anything - it's where my soul lives, and the place I most enjoy sharing with the love of my life. I'm so thankful to have had the time, resources, and reasonably cooperative weather to be able to take this trip to such a beautiful place!
No place I'd rather be.
So now it's time for the last race of the year for me: my annual run-around-in-circles-for-hours at Horror Trail is tomorrow morning, and it looks like it's going to be a rainy one. Good thing my Halloween costume won't melt!
