Highlands Sky 2006 Race Reports

Dennis Hamrick

I wanted to thank everyone with the Highland Sky 40 mile. I had a very tough May with the loss of my Dad. The race provided me with the chance to see my friends and view some of the best scenery in the world. I did not finish the race, but I was very pleased with my effort.

I have always thought of running and life in the same way: It's not how far you have to go....it's how far you have already been. My Dad taught me many lessons when I was young. I did not realize what they meant until later in life. Ultra runs combine the young and old, the new comer and the seasoned vetran. We share our life stories on the trail and take away new ones to tell at the next event. We learn what we are capable of doing and some times we reach our limits before the race is over.

My Dad ran the good race. He reached his finish line on May 21, 2006. That was his limit. During the Highland Sky, I saw the azaleas in full bloom. I saw the huckleberry and teaberry bushes awakening. I saw what my Dad had taught me about life. Enjoy every minute and be thankful for what's right in front of you.

Thanks to everyone for a great event. Hope to see everyone at the Rattlesnake 50k on July 8.

Dennis

Nick Whited

I have wanted to travel north up the the far north eastern corner of WV
and experience this ultra called the WV Highlands Sky run.  Everyone
always talked about how great the course and how much fun they had.
Little did I know I would finally get to experience it for myself.
After DNF'ing at MMT 100 in May, my June schedule was suddenly free
before taking a little break.  

After a long 5 1/2 drive on Friday afternoon, my wife and I made it to
Canaan Valley Resort.  The beauty of the ski slopes from our room were
amazing, little did I know I would hate this section come the next day.
We ate at the Hickory Room, enjoyed the cheesecake and were off to the
room for an early morning.  I woke up around 3:45am on Saturday and
began the prep for the race.  I got on the school bus and enjoyed
talking with the Bee brothers and J.L. Brown.  I was glad to get off of
the bus, as the ride made me a little car sick.  Soon after, the race
began and we were running and laughing on the road section.  A huge pack
trekked the 2 mile section before heading uphill.  Once in the woods, my
legs began to burn and I screamed out to the others, "do your legs
burn like mine?"  Everyone stated that we were in a patch of 'stinging
nettle' and man, did it burn. I thought I was having some kind of
allergic reaction to a bug bite or something.  

Once on the steep climb I enjoyed the conversation with the other
runners.  Little did I know what lay ahead.  I started feeling bad
around the 18 mile mark right before the long 7.5 mile road section.  I
managed to fight through it and had moved all the way up to 4th right at
32 miles.  All of a sudden like a ton of bricks hitting me, I started to
vomit violently.  Chris Palladino and his friend came running by as I
laid there on the rock patch in agony, they gave me some fluid and so
did a guy mountain biking.  I managed to crawl into the aid station and
get some ice.  The heat took its toll on me.  I don't recall much after
other than running with Bill Young and John Bridges the last little bit.
John left me at the last aid station and I struggled in to the finish.
I finally got in front of the lodge and realized I must have missed a
turn, after going around the entire resort/hotel rooms, I saw the pool
and came in the opposite way, everyone looked at me weird as I came in
and said I had missed the trail section and ran further - great! A lady
came over to me, I didn't catch her name but she offered to go get me
some ice cream, that did the trick and I'm thankful for her.  I would
have laid there another 2 hours without that ice cream.  My wife was
busy finding me some ice.  

The race is tough but do-able.  Dan Lehmann and the aid station workers
are amazing and did a terrific job.  The race runs like a 50 mile like I
have heard from numerous people.  The heat made it tougher this year and
I was surprised that only 20 folks dropped.  I'm glad I trekked north to
WV and took part in the Highland Sky, I've got to come back and
experience that last section I missed when I was delirious.    

Nick

Marianna Inslee

So, why, you ask, did I decide to run an Ultra? Well, I would like to say it was part of my master plan all along, but it is more accurate to say, the Highlands Sky 40 mile race chose me as opposed to me choosing the Highlands Sky 40. Yes, once I started running marathons, I planned to run an ultra, but I did not plan to run one this year. Then back in January while looking around for a 5K race I happened on the Charlottesville Running Company 5K trail race. Well, always the adventurous type, I said, why not. How hard could it be and it just might be fun. I soon found out that trail running is a lot different than running roads and even though I posted my slowest 5K time ever (30+) I had an absolute blast. To make it even more interesting, the 5K was part of a race series called the Great Eastern Trail Run Series. If you haven't already realized where I am going with this, the Highland Sky 40 mile race is one of 12 races in the series. Now I did not have to run this race to qualify for end year awards, but after reading about the race on the race website, the race kept talking to me. Next thing I know, I'd signed up! Training for the race was basically two training runs in Sherando Lake Park, plus a CRC 10K, the Bel Monte 25K trail race as well as a couple of 10 mile "tame/groomed" trail races in Northern Va as part of the Backyard Burn series. I had originally planned on doing another training run in the mountains, but instead ended up running another road marathon in Madison, WI.

The Highlands Sky 40 mile race is a point to point race finishing at the Canaan Valley Ski Resort. The race elevation map showed a 2,600 ft climb and 1,500 ft descent in the first 12 miles of the race, followed by another 1,000 ft climb and then a lot of roll from mile 15 - 34, a steep 700 ft decent at mile 35 and the last 4 miles flat. Total climbing 5,739 ft, total descending 5,121 ft. Sounds like fun? Right?

Saturday morning was perfect, with temperatures in the 50's with some wet high humidity. I actually was a bit cold for the first couple of miles. The first two miles were on the road and the first aid station was at mile 2.2. After the aid station we headed into the woods and started the 2,600 ft ascent. It was lovely. Lots of small streams and waterfalls crisscrossed the trail. The weather was still cool, and great conversation with a pack of fellow runners made that major climb go by rather fast. Once at the top of the mountain the trail opened up and we were running through rocking trails open to the sky. At this time the temperatures started increasing and while I was carrying a .75 liter hand held water bottle, I was running out of fluid and was really looking forward to aid station 2 at mile 10.1. After running on the top of the mountain, the trail turned downward and finally, after 2:20+ minutes of running, there was the second aid station. I fueled up on Gatorade, PB&J and Pringle potato chips. (Ultra's are cool, all kinds of munches at the aid stations).

The run to the third aid station was uneventful except for the time I was congratulating myself for running so far over very rocky terrain with out a fall. At which point I promptly tripped on a rock and fell on my face. The person behind me told me it was not the rock you tripped on that one has to worry about, it is the rock your head lands on that is the concern. Eh, if I have not mentioned it so far, this race is very very very rocky!!! Rocks everywhere. This is also where I met Jim. Jim is from Ky and his goal for the Highland Sky 40 mile was to finish under 10 hours. Jim was a wonderful running partner as he kept my mind off the miles with his running adventure stories. The next thing I know, we are pulling into aid station 4, the half way point. Yahoo!!! This is where my drop bag was located and how I wanted to change into my dry light colored fun poka dotted shirt! Well, I found my dry socks and red hat....but NO SHIRT!! Darn. Major moment of disappointment. But hey, I was feeling great, had a great running partner and was half done, so I did not let the shirt disappointment get me down. I changed into dry socks, shook out the sand and gravel in my shoes, added another layer of body glide and off Jim and I went on the road through hell.

The next 7 miles was on a gravel road almost completely exposed to the rising heat of the day. (afternoon temps mid 80s) You could see for miles and all you saw was the gravel road that just went up and up and up. On the road way up ahead you could see black dots moving along the road that were other runners. That road seemed to go on forever with the hills getting bigger and bigger. Finally we got to the end of the road from hell and turned back to the trails. This part of the race was mostly through high mountain meadows full of flowers, scrub brush, grasses, small trees and of course mud and rocks. You could see for miles and the view was beautiful. Again mostly exposed to the hot sun, but very runnable. Eventually, the meadow turned to mostly lush low land type grasses, with a few more normal sized trees but here I lost my running buddy as he started having leg cramp problems.

It was a bit lonely from this point forward. I was running alone and could no longer see any runners in front of me as the trail became extremely rocky. The boulders were the size of cars that tested our rock jumping abilities with tired cramping legs. It was a bit daunting, and the trail was a bit difficult to follow, but once through the first section of boulders we were all rewarded with a view of the mountains and valleys below. Absolutely spectacular!! Oh how I wished I had brought along a camera.

After another section of boulders it was back to meadows and the occasional wooded trail section. Just before the last aid station we had to run UP a ski slope. And it was NOT the bunny slope. Once we turned off the slope it was a 700ft "plunge" down the mountain to the final aid station 8. I passed a girl here whose boy friend said it was not safe to run. I told them I was going for it and I was sure the girl would catch me on the final flat 4 mile section. What fun, running on dead legs down the trail grabbing onto trees to keep from falling. :-)

After the down hill section it was nice easy trail and then, thank goodness the final aid station and only 4.1 flat road miles left to run. I can not say I ran particularly well the last 4 miles as first the girl who carefully walked the last down hill section passed me and then two others, but the end was near and while I was tired and my legs were dead, I was very very pumped! The very last 1/2 mile was again on nice easy trail and then there it was the finish line!!!! I had completed my very first Ultra Marathon. Time: 9:43ish

So, back to the original question. Why run an Ultra Marathon. One reason is for the challenge. Another reason is for the absolutely spectacular mountain views. The number one reason...for the people you meet along the way. Thank you Dan, Jim, Ken, David, Eva, Northern Va girl, Beer Guy, Down Hill girl, Daisy girl, man with the stitches, Father and Son team, aid station people and all the rest. You all made it an event to remember.

Marianna Inslee

NATHAN ECHOLS

There are races that you enjoy from the start to the finish. There are days that you feel good for the entire length
of the race, and then there are races that are best enjoyed after several days of reflection. The Highlands Sky 40 Mile
Trail Race falls into the second category. It is a tough course that will test your physical and mental endurance During
longer races, I usually experience an extended period of "trail elation" where I feel great. The feeling of
"I could run all day" hit me at the top of the first climb where the trail opens to the sky. That lasted about two
minutes. Before I get into that however, let me back up a bit.

I signed up for the Highlands Sky way back in late 2005. My friend, Thom Cole, had told me about it, and the race
looked terrific. The two of us had recruited two other local hikers/runners for this event. The four of us drove down
from the NY/NJ metro area on Friday morning. Coming through the mountains of western Maryland and then into West
Virginia, we knew this would be fun. In our group was Lisa Madden, an experienced mountaineer and about the toughest
person I know. What she lacks in pure running talent, she more than makes up for in enthusiasm and grit. She started
trail racing last September, and she's already completed 3 50K's and 2 trail marathons. Also, Donna Graham-Finan
was with us. Her first ultra was HAT in March, and she's a very good runner. Tall and thin, she has the "look" of
an endurance runner.

Thom and I had run our first 50 mile race in May. The Ice Age 50 in Wisconsin would be quite a contrast to this
event, This would be my ninth marathon or ultra this year, and my 27th overall since I started racing in June of 2004.

   Race morning broke clear and cool. A good day to run. I let the fast guys and the young kids go ahead. I hung back 
around 15th place knowing I would see a lot of these speedsters later. It was going to be a hot hot day, and the price 
for going out too hard was going to be costly. I have blown up at too many marathons and ultras to charge out at a sub-7
pace.

   The first major climb was peaceful and enjoyable, except for the nettle patches. We had hiked this section on Friday
afternoon, so we knew what to expect. I ran/hiked up the hill to the first overlook where it was cool and beautiful. It
was time to start really running hard, as I felt great. The long climb was over. Now, I could extend my stride and pickup
the pace. Then, I saw the two trillion white rocks, any one of which could roll your ankle and end your day. Oh well, my
thin 6'4" frame was going to have to pick my way through the rocks. I kept a group of three runners in sight as I crabbed
my way through the stone mine field. I kept expecting hordes of runners to pass me by, but no one did.

   When we hit the steep downhill after Aid Station 2, a runner came flying up behind me. It was Greg Zaruba, who I had
met at Seneca Creek 50K in February and HAT 50K in March. He passed me at an impossibly fast clip, moving at about my 5K
pace, and saying over his shoulder how much he liked the downhills. My quads would have exploded, and my head would have
served as a permanent planter if I tried to match his speed.

   On the subsequent uphill, I began to pass several runners. I caught back up with Greg and Chris Palladino. We chatted
for a while on the climb up. Greg started to pull away again at the top as I decided to back off the pace and conserve 
my energy. I felt like I was starting to tire way too early in the race. Better to slow down now, than blow up later.

   I hit the mid-point and the drop bag Aid Station in 12th place. I changed socks to a thinner pair hoping to alleviate
some blister pain on the right big toe. When I fell to the grass to replenish my Gu supply and Succeed pills, I noticed a
can of Red Bull in my bag. I hadn't  drank it prior to the race like I had planned. Sweet nectar from the gods could not
have tasted better. I hopped up ready to go, and then I noticed the dirt road stretching on to eternity. I asked a 
volunteer, " We have to run up that crap?" To which she replied curtly, " Just start running". I laughed and moved out.

   I could see moving specks in the distance which got closer and closer as the Red Bull pumped through my body. I caught
up to Kevin Lane, a 21 year old who amazed me with his guts and demeanor for such a young guy running an ultra. I 
couldn't imagine attempting such a feat at 21!! I passed another runner and then caught back up to Chris Palladino, who
was suffering from an upset stomach. I could tell what a competitor he was, but he was hurting.

   We finally finished the long dirt road, and it was getting really hot. I was hoping to get back into the woods with 
some tree cover, but the oven effect was just starting. As I pulled out of that Aid Station, Chris came in and told me to 
start running as he was going to be coming after me. I know there were too many miles remaining to start racing now. It 
was quickly becoming a survival contest, not a race.

   That long 5.8 mile section contained the prettiest scenery of the day. Beautiful fields, giant rock sculptures, far
reaching vistas. However, the openness of the course was making it too hot. I began to catch several runners who were 
slowing, cramping, and fighting the elements. I kept repeating a Steve Pre quote to myself. " I don't race to see who's 
the fastest, I race to see who has the most guts" I felt that I was kidding myself with this mantra, but it was working.
When I finally reached that Aid Station on top of the hill, I was in 5th.

   The last 8 miles were a mix of "heaven and hell", as I started to call it. Heavenlike scenery blended with the awful
ski slope downhill; cool shaded dirt road with the hot open asphalt; the wonderful people at the Aid Stations with the 
last isolated miles of self doubt.

   I caught sight of the 4th place runner, but never caught up to him. The Steve Pre quote of having the most guts was
replaced by a whimpering "Mommy" as I ran/walked the access road of Canaan Valley. The last short trail section  revived
me enough to finish in 7:23:24 and in 5th place.

   Greg Zaruba had finished in 3rd. He ran a great race and is primed for a great run at the VT100 this July. Chris
finished two places behind me. Without his stomach issues, he would have beaten me easily.

   I sat down and waited for my friends to finish as I downed Pepsi after Pepsi. I was elated to see Lisa and Thom finish
together. Lisa was the 3rd female. Superwoman! Donna was right behind, finishing 30th overall.

   What a terrific race, especially after a couple of days of recovery. I'd like to thank all the volunteers and the race
director for such a memorable day and event.

                                                 Nathan Echols

Bob Haithcock

Highlands Sky 2006 Race Reports – A NJ Perspective

What a fine idea picking this race for your first ultra! I kinda thought that running on the beach on Raritan Bay and in our infamous single track courses in Hartshorne & Huber Woods in Middletown and walking 3 miles daily to work in NYC avoiding taxis and buses and bike messengers would sufficiently toughen me up for this jaunt through the WV hills. Wrong!!!

Thinking back, I had no right to be here as I hadn’t run a marathon in over 20 years and haven’t run move than a 9 & 12 mile trail (NJ style – no rocks) on the weekends. Thank God, Dan convinced me to run an 18 & 23 miler prior to the Highlands Sky and to carry water.

I felt great in the beginning running and conversing with last year’s grandmaster winner until he just rocketed off on one of the many rocky sections and all of a sudden I found myself alone in the woods thinking of lions and tigers and bears oh my…..and where the hell did everybody go… am I on course?…. is that bear droppings? … how far to the next aid station?….why are my damn legs burning like hell from the knees down?

I …

	have never felt so humbled (with the exception of the Mountaineers football team beating up on our Rutgers Scarlet Knights in 2001 by a score of 80 – 6)
	never knew that you could cramp up in both legs at the same time resulting in the wackiest Michael Jackson dance steps ever attempted
	believe that the Grand Canyon was created by removing all of the rocks and depositing them in Dolly Sods
	wish that microbrew guy at aid station 7 should have been supplying some IPA in lieu of Gatorade
	made to many promises to the man above that I could ever recall or keep
	believe that 40.7 miles in WV = 60 miles anywhere else in the U.S. Just what kind of metric system do they use in WV?
	have never seen so many rocky trails with the exception of climbing Mt. Katadin at the end of the Appalachian Trail in Baxter Park in Maine
	believe WV is a great place and has been kept a secret from us in NJ

I’m very bad with names but I would like to personally thank Dan and the wonderful volunteers and my new found trail buddies who supplied with ibuprofen, mineral replacement pills, great survival advice and trail companionship during those very and many tough times.

I’m glad that I chose this for my first ultra. How much tougher can any other race possibly be ???

Bob

Michelle Payne

I didn't decide to race at Highland sky until the Tuesday before. Injury and strep throat had kept me from training for over a month, meaning that since April 21st I'd run a total of 38 miles, with 30 of those occurring before May 13th. But, I'd been looking forward to this race and to staying with my friend Jen Cochran so I decided I'd run, just being sure to start out slow, and hopefully make the aid station cutoffs.

Race day started out a little cool, but I wasn't worried as I knew if the weather was anything like the day before it would be hot enough fairly soon. The first part of the course was on a paved road and I started off at what I thought was a fairly conservative pace, only to discover I was actually a lot closer to the front than I intended. Turning off the road and heading up the mountain, I caught up to David Horton and Sarah Johnston and stayed with them until aid station 3. Oddly enough the pace didn't seem too hard and aside from some super prickly nettles things were going all right. However, I knew this course was hard so didn't get too confident. I felt fine up until the first hard downhill, where my lack of training reared itself with a vengance!!! Ouch! My quads were pretty much shot after that, in fact at some points my legs were actually shaking and that was on flat ground!! I also started drinking a bit too much Perpetuem, I made the mistake of thinking that if I drank more than I needed now, I would have some in reserve for later....not so! Instead I ended up with some stomach cramping issues and at aid station 3, David and Sarah headed on without me.

I got to aid station 4 - roughly the halfway mark in 4:30, so thought that even if I walked the rest of the way (which I came pretty close to doing) I'd still finish without missing the cut-offs. I slathered on the sunscreen from my drop bag and left the Perpetuem behind (probably not a good idea). I wished I had 2 water bottles as I found in the heat, I was running out of water between aid stations. The next 7 miles were on this gravel road, that went up and down and up and down. Two pit stops later, and walking all of the uphills I made it into aid station 6. By this time my stomach had settled down and was actually growling! I was so hungry. I got some food, had my bottle filled with water and ice and was off. The sign said next aid station 5.8 miles (or something close to that). Well, it must have been all of a mile later that I ran out of water and had to walk (although I think my legs would have forced me into a walk before to long anyways) and several people started passing me by.

After hobbling my away across the grass and shakily making my way across the boulders (it's hard jumping the gaps when your legs are already shaking from tiredness!) I made it into aid station 7. This was a very popular aid station as when I got there, there were about 5 people just hanging out taking a break. I wanted to join them, but knew if I did that I'd never get my legs moving again. Instead I stuffed my face with just about one of everything they had at the table (all except the meat items) and headed off.

The next stretch included an uphill that I didn't mind, and a really steep downhill that hurt my legs even more, it seemed like forever until I made it out of the woods and met the police officer telling us it was only a quarter of a mile to the next aid station. That was the longest quarter mile I've ever run!!! (at least it felt like it). Most of the remaining miles were on paved road or grass, with a small trail section just before the finish. I had a lot of energy left, but my feet and legs just didn't have the miles in them, so I forced myself into a run/walk between hydro poles. Again several people flew! (or so it felt) past me. Finally I saw the pool behind the resort and knew that I was close to the finish. 9:26:49!

Highlights of the race were of course the unbelievably beautiful views you got running on top of the mountain after aid station 6, the rocky sections - I loved how challenging it was, the friendliness of everyone running, the great aid station volunteers, and the guy with the camera at aid station 4 who I recruited to help me put on sunscreen! (I'm not sure how much he appreciated it!!)

Wildlife seen on the course - 2 deer on the gravel road, a rabbit, 2 snakes - one alive and one dead, chipmunks, birds and thousands of multi-coloured butterflies. I heard two guys saying they had seen a bear!, but I never saw one at all.

It was a great race and I'm glad I decided to run in despite my lack of training. Sunday and Monday I could barely hobble my legs were so sore, but by Tuesday I was feeling almost back to normal, aside from the massive blister I now have on my heel.

Michelle

Alan Gowen

Reward

At 6:00 am on June 17, 2006 Pam and I, along with our friends John and Chris jogged across the start line of the Highlands Sky 40 Mile Trail Run. After 15 minutes or so, Chris and I began to move ahead.

Chris and I have run hundreds and hundreds of miles together. We've run fast and free. We've limped home, broken and spent. And everything in between. The subjects of our continuing discourse have been varied indeed, and we seldom disagree. As years have gone by, time running on you might say, one of the topics that continues to intrigue is reward. That is to say that the true reward is in direct proportion to the true effort.

A wonderful clear day in March several years ago. Chris and I were together, running. Blue skies, 50 degrees, patchy snow on the ground, hope in the air. Flat out we ran on the Tuscorora Trail, friends together, two old guys boys again and simply flying on that ragged edge of control down, down toward Elizabeth Furnace. Massanutten Mountains, rugged and rocky, but the trail here was smooth and beckoning, urging foolishness. Running hard. Running fast. Hearts pounding. Running free. Somewhere amidst the sanctity of our bliss, we were told by those wheezing with burdens shackled to their backs, stiff hard boots and hands heavy with poles to slow down and enjoy ourselves.

Some people don't get it, and I guess that's OK. Let them have their way. Let them though, keep it to themselves.

There's a difference between passing through and being part of. Many times we are just passing through. But sometimes true effort put forth rewards us in direct proportion when we're transported to a different level, becoming an integral part of the natural world. We become part of it all, and we're merely passing through no more.

This was my third time at Highlands Sky, but this was the first time I'd seen this course basking in brilliant sunshine. I'll leave it to the poets to portray the beauty found. Agreeing once again, Chris and I knew we were in a special place at a special time. True effort transforming us. Highlands Sky extracts a different type of effort from its runners. But Ah! The reward!

Sweat pouring out, temples pounding pulse. Chris snapped my photo as we stopped momentarily on a rocky outcrop; red spruce, azaleas, crystal blue sky with peaks in the background, just before the 1700' plunge back down into the dark, dank, thick woodlands as we made our way along the remarkable Highlands Sky course. Being transformed, excited as kids, we both said it, out loud, in agreement yet again. Big effort bringing big rewards.

5:00 am bus ride through the darkness to the start with windows fogging up. How old are those buses anyway? Running through twilight parallel to sunrise, the promise of the day to come. True effort beginning with the sun rising in a crystalline blue sky; bodies marching up, steeper and steeper, nettles like tiny razors, 2300 ft. up and up then down and up again. There are really only two significant climbs in this race, but they take their toll early, leaving runners more tired than planned with more than half of the race yet to go. That wonderful sun was hot on this day, and for 20 miles or so, no shade to be found, it baked us. A rare treat though, as the color of the sky was deep dark blue all the way to the horizon. No haze today at this elevation.

If you've been there you know what that 7 miles of arrow-straight dusty, gravel road is like. If you haven't experienced it there's no point in me wasting more words here Old friends, Chris and I shuffle along dying in the heat, born into the beauty of the day. That miserable road finally gives way to the most visually spectacular part of the course. Memories of alpine meadows high in Colorado as we make our way, picking up the pace, thankfully once again on trails. Chris is a natural athlete, able to parley minimal training into impressive results. His lack of conditioning finally makes itself known, and after 27 miles or so, with confidence and respect borne of familiarity, we part ways. I love this place, and I feel good. The last four miles of this course are on paved roads beneath a hot sun. I'm jogging and running and walking and soon the finish line is mine. The only cloud to be found on this spectacular day is waiting on the other side.

Friend John is standing there, off to the side. John had started the race with us and his being at the finish before me meant only one thing. Indeed as we'd feared just might happen, he'd timed out arriving 7 minutes past the cut-off after 26.3 miles of true effort. Reality shaped by desire had convinced me that somehow he'd make it. Chris arrives only 10 minutes behind me, no worse for wear. We begin to visit and enjoy our lies, when from the scoring table, more bad news. Pam has dropped at the 32-mile aid station. She had enough time left to simply walk the final eight miles. She was in too much pain. Brilliant late afternoon blue skies above. Clouds at the finish line.

Pam soon appears, having hitched a ride back, but she's still in pain. In two days we find out it's a kidney stone that's caused her to suffer mightily out there amongst all that beauty, but for now her true effort has delivered a DNF. John, Chris, Pam and I had all begun our day running four abreast with high expectations. Half of us, true effort aside, hadn't accomplished what we'd desired. Reward in direct proportion to the effort? Not today for all of us. But the effort was mighty and now it's money in the bank. Compound interest to pay dividends next time around. And Chris had a very good day considering his lack of training. He only got extremely grouchy near the finish. Glad we went our separate ways when we did.

I had a pretty good day. I finished this hard race feeling good. Chris and I had our moments of big reward from big effort; two friends running together. And we had moments when we were really part of it. Something those just passing through will never understand.

Randy Witlicki
Norwich, Vermont

  Executive summary: I finished the beautiful and challenging 40.7 mile
Highlands Sky trail race in Davis, West Virginia on June 17, 2006.  My time
was 11:18:00 (103 out of 125 finishers).  The weather was a clear blue sky
and the temperatures climbed into the 80s.  The second half of the course
is mostly out in the open, so the sun and heat had a big effect.  RD Dan
Lehmann and his volunteers put on a great race.

  At five AM, a line of school buses and various crew vehicles left the
front of the Canaan Valley Resort for a half hour curving, climbing, and
descending ride in the pre-dawn glow to the start line. At six AM we were
off on a easy couple of paved miles.  My quads reminded me that I had
pushed the pace on a 3+ hour rock and roots hiking trail run six days
before, but soon they gave up complaining.
  All of this course was new to me, so I settled into the back of the pack
as we cruised along, people were chattering and birds were chirping as the
sun came up.  After a fluids only aid station at 2 miles, we entered the
woods for the biggest climb of the day, about 2,300 feet, on trails and old
woods roads. June is prime growing season in the eastern U.S. mountains and
it has been a good year for stinging nettles which crowded the sides of the
trail.  Want to step around a muddy spot or pass somebody?  Expect to swipe
your legs on a nettle patch.  Luckily, the nettles were only in this first
climb.  Mud? The trail by my eastern forest experience, was quite dry.  The
wet patches were small "hillside swamps" where there was ledge or clay
keeping a spot always moist.  Some people who had run this race before said
they had never seen the course this dry.
  Towards the top of the big climb it was running time as the trail became
rocky ups and downs on top of the ridge before reaching Aid #2 at about 10
miles.
  Between Aid #2 and #3 is a gorgeous downhill stretch along a narrow trail
between laurel bushes towering over our heads.  In the deep shade, if
suddenly felt tropical.  All downhills must end and soon we were climbing
again on the second big climb, but only for about 1,200 feet.  After a
pause at the wonderful Aid #3 (aid stations during climbs are always
wonderful because you get to stop. The people here were great, as they were
at all the other aid stations), it was a little more climbing and then more
open rocky running on the ridge.
  I arrived at Aid #4, almost the mid-point of the course and found my drop
bag with socks, shirt, food bars and gels, sunscreen, and a hat.  The
honeymoon of the first part of the course was over. I like ups and downs in
the shade. I was back on the trail at about 11:35 AM.
  For about a half mile leading up to Aid #4 we had been on a forest
service road with some vehicle traffic and this road continued for seven
more miles with two 3 mile sections that were straight as an arrow but
dipping up and down.  Every quarter mile or so, an overhanging tree gave a
tiny bit of shade.  Mid-way down this long road section, the road bent a
little to the right and there was Aid #5.  I filled my water bottles,
re-wet my hat, used the sponge from a bucket to cool my legs, and then
headed back down the road. This was a shift in gears from the
pay-attention-to-where-your-feet-land of the single track and it would have
been fun if it was cloudy.  It was a grind. Must stop whinning.  Think
positive thoughts.  Most people, including me, throttled back their effort
levels under the shadeless blue sky and temperatures that seemed to be in
the 80s. In hindsight, seven miles on a road out in the open isn't anything
epic, but I wasn't ready for it. Now I know.
  Memo to self: If I don't start out wearing it, have my neck drape hat and
a nylon long sleeve shirt in my drop bag. Always. Except maybe if I go to
run in Scotland.
  At Aid #6, the end of the road section, I was hoping to return to the
shady woods, but for the next 6 or 7 miles, the trail was about 75% open.
  When I left Aid #6, I knew I had a 5.8 mile gap to cross, so I drank up
and left with two full 20oz bottles. With about a mile left to Aid #7, I
was looking at about an inch of water left and once again I throttled back
the pace. I crossed meadows and rocky ridgelines on an absolutely stunning
run across high terrain. If it had been high overcast and 15 degrees
cooler, I would have been in heaven.
  I think there is a thin line between "fine" and "fine and miserable".
There is always for me, some period when I'm out beyond four to six hours
where I just want to get home and be done. With experience, I've come to
recognize these "bad patches" in their combination of physical and mental
discomfort. Usually, if things don't get better, they at least don't get
much worse. Ticking off aid stations and counting down the mileage to the
finish really helps things along here.
  I reached Aid #7 and consumed lots of fluid and fruit pieces, wet my hat
and legs, and set out for another mile or so of open terrain before a short
climb and a big semi-bushwhack descent through the  Timberline ski area.
There is a steep section here known as the "butt slide". This year it was
dry loose dirt and I made it down without falling. With any amount of
moisture, I could see how we all would be slip sliding our way down.
  Soon, we were out of the woods on an open (in the sun again) road to the
final Aid #8.
  The last four miles were gravel/pavement/grass/pavement and then a woods
trail to the finish line next to the swimming pool on the back lawn of the
Canaan Valley Resort.
  I crossed the finish line 11 hours and 18 minutes after I started over 40
miles away.

  What went right: Trail gaiters (my old Joe Dana models). I ate food at
every aid station (except for #1 which was fluid only). I ate between some
of the aid stations (organic food bars and some gels). I took an S cap
every hour and half or so along with potatoes dipped in salt and pretzels
and chips at the aid stations. I kept my hat wet and wet down my legs at
every aid station in the second half of the course.  Staying at the race
headquarters Canaan Valley Resort was great.
  What went wrong:  I didn't wear a neck drape hat.  I didn't use enough
sunscreen and got a sunburn.
  My post-race recovery took longer that I expected. I didn't think I
pushed that hard on the course, but it wasn't just the climb, it was the
rocks also.
  Next time: Yes, there will be a next time.