Mt. Disappointment 50k/50m

Intro by Charlie Nickell:

Mt. Disappointment never seems to disappoint the participants unless you’re in fact actually trying to have a good finishing time. We’ve never seen a 50-mile ultra where so many participants downgrade to the 50k option mid race than Mt. Dis; this challenged writer included. Can you try running a 10k and opt for the 100 yard dash? Without the 50k bailout, half the field would DNF at Red Box mile 21. It makes TRD ponder: If the 50k option didn’t exist, what would the early demolished 50-mile runners do at mile 26? It’s like exit stage right and after a nightmarish 5-mile climb up the Kenyon Get Devoured Trail it’s over; poor 50-mile bastards who tackled those additional 18 extra miles of exposed fire road.

We don’t know if it’s the sissy elevation, the terrain, Pasadena smog, Jalisco cheese or the weather but Mt. Dis could for all intents and purposes be the Karen Carpenter Endurance Run for the Cure. There are more people puking on the San Gabriel mountain single track than scores of recently hazed frat boys waking up on Sunday morning; the only difference would be the frat boys have their heads wrapped around the porcelain goddess while the Mt. Dis runners just sling chunky projectiles around and keep pressing forward. What’s up with these people?

The 2008 Mt. Disappointment 50k/50 miler once again lived up to its nomenclature. Some of the 50k times looked like 50-mile times. In hindsight, they put facilities like nearby Mt. Wilson Observatory on the top of remote mountain tops for a very good reason. That reason? It’s really high, remote, rugged and no place for group activities. If you have no interpersonal skills, love reading the Windows Vista operators manual or want to study the stars in complete peace it’s a great place to do that. Should 200 half-dressed people surround the place once a year and run like crazed gerbils dogging Richard Gere in some West Hollywood back alley? Methinksnot.

Personally, about the only bright side for this race was the performance of my new Four Moreno Swiftwick socks. Normally, when I get a new pair of socks that feel this good I just sleep in them and don’t even allow them to touch the carpet. However, having destroyed so many pairs of expensive running socks, I decided to see what the technology in these puppies would do in one of the toughest ultras So Cal has to offer.

Getting sick at mile six in a 50-mile race isn’t a great sign and forced me into taking the 50k shortcut inside a blistering 9½ hours of pure agony. The only thing that didn’t hurt the entire race was my feet. Peeling my shoes off post race, I was absolutely blown away how clean and fresh both my feet and Swiftwick socks looked. I actually thought maybe I had changed my socks at mile 21 but had forgotten about it; however, that turned out not to be the case. With no blisters and very little dirt trapped between my toes, I actually blew off my traditional practice of rinsing off my feet before stepping into my flip-flops. The socks themselves would have been considered by this crowd to be worthy of another go before washing. While the rest of my body was worked, from the ankle down it looked like I had only gone for a bike ride on the Newport Beach boardwalk.

Mt. Disappointment 2008 – Greg Hardesty:

We love bragging to our non-running friends about signing up for the Mt. Disappointment Endurance Run. They get a concerned look in their eyes, we say, “It’s an actual peak, near Mt. Wilson above Pasadena, pretty cool name, huh?” and they say “Oh,” and then behind our backs they speed-dial our shrinks, bolt the liquor cabinet, and recite the Stations of the Cross – yes, this ultra sounds that intimidating.

Of course, we don’t admit to our non-running friends that the thought of running Mt. Disappointment makes us want to pee our extra wicking-capable running shorts. Every year, we tell ourselves, “Oh not, it’s August – not again!” But like that scene in the “The Godfather Part III,” when Al Pacino bellows, “Just when I thought that I was out they pull me back in!” we keep coming back to Mt. Disappointment.

Although no one here at TRD has heard of any “Mt. Dis” runners turning into bullet-riddled corpses, we can attest that running this ultra probably feels similar. Hmm…run Mt. Disappointment, or suffer death by machine gun? Ah, the tough choices life presents us.

What is it about Mt. Dis that makes the runs so difficult? Is it the heat? The elevation (the start/finish is 5,650)? The proximity to Hollywood? Like the Bermuda Triangle, the electoral college system, and Pauly Shore’s celebrity, the answer forever may be a mystery.

Officially, the 50k course has about 5,700 feet of elevation gain and loss, and the 50-miler 8,700 feet – both completely within the Angeles National Forest. Don’t believe everything you read. Maybe it’s a misprint and they forgot to add extra zeroes.

Broken laces, a lost runner, teeming pools of vomit — this year’s Mt. Disappointment runs, charitably held on what is historically the coolest day of the year, Aug. 9, had it all. Best of all, it had Race Director Gary Hilliard — orchestrating his well-oiled machine once again. Gary gave the ultrarunning community a scare after last year’s race by crashing his motorcycle while heading to mark the AC100 course. A better ambassador of the sport of ultrarunning would be hard to find. So would a more sadistic course designer (although there’s a great case to be made for Santa Barbara 9 Trails’ Luis Escobar).

The start of both the 50k and 50-mile versions of Mt. Disappointment, a downhill paved section along Mt. Wilson Road, is comical in how uncharacteristic it is of what’s to come. Did we make a wrong turn and end up at the St. George Marathon? Nope. It’s just Hilliard toying with us. Many a runner has made the mistake of going too fast during this 2.5-mile section, only to hit Eaton Saddle (where the dirt begins) and go, “Oh no, I forgot I was running a hilly race in the mountains.”

A short climb later, to Markham Saddle, it’s time to take in a 360-degree view of seven peaks. Starbucks has a stand there (not). After a steep but shortish climb past San Gabriel Peak (6,000 feet), there’s a very fun (but slippery) downhill switchback section on the Mt. Disappointment Trail to the first aid station, Red Box (mile 5.7). This year, the carnage already started on this downhill portion, when a female runner fell and severely injured her ankle.

Speedster Rob McNair was among several runners who stopped to help the runner, sacrificing a lot of time. Despite this selfless act of gallantry and taking a wrong turn much later in the race, Rob still managed to catch up and pass some solid runners and finish strong in the 50-miler, with a time of 10:59. Rob is 54 years old. We don’t know what he eats or drinks, but when we grow up, we want to beon the crack he’s on.

Everyone who runs Mt. Dis who has done his or her homework becomes so obsessed with surviving the last section that the guts of the run sort of blend together: fireroad, pavement, cheering volunteers, singletrack. Rinse and repeat. The end of both races, of course, is the infamous 3.1-mile climb up the Kenyon Devore Trail, a seemingly endless series of switchbacks. The total elevation gain on Kenyon is 1,910 feet, which works out to 616 feet per mile — tough, even on fresh legs. Of course, the climb comes at the end of both ultras. Ouch! But we’re getting ahead of ourselves.

After the first aid station at Red Box, runners hit the Gabrielino Trail and hoof it to Switzer’s Picnic area, where a catered meal from the Corner Bakery awaits (not, although the aid stations here are top notch). The climb from the Clear Creek Aid Station (mile 10.8) on a twisting fire road that ends at Josephine Saddle (mile 13.5) is steep but affords some great views of the canyons and, in the distance, Paris Hilton seeking to grab some headlines through the thick smog covering the L.A. basin. Media whore!

We at TRD particularly enjoy the single-track section from Josephine Saddle, along the Colby Canyon Trail and the Strawberry Trail, which has great views of the Big Tujunga Canyon and beyond. Don’t ya love all these trail names? Who’s on the naming committee? Like, Strawberry Trail sounds like something concocted by a gummy bear – some sort of shaded Eden of treats and leg massages. Right! Big Tujunga Canyon? We could make a crude sexual joke here, but the TRD is above that. Anyway, the runners then make their way back to Red Box , which doubles as aid station at mile 21.25.

There comes a time, during combined ultras like Mt. Dis, when those who signed up for the 50-miler have a choice: Continue on, or drop down to the 50k. At Mt. Dis, this choice happens at the West Fork Aid Station, conveniently located at mile 26.1 — just after you’ve run a marathon! Turn right or turn left. Vomit more or vomit less. Swiftwick Obama Socks or Swiftwick McCain Socks. Folks, life is full of tough choices, and this is just one more of them.

For the 50-milers – well, turning left at West Fork changes everything. It’s not “just” 19 more miles. It’s like having an additional kidney removed; it’s a whole’ nuther ordeal (but fun, of course – we do run ultras for fun, right?)

Leaving West Fork, runners climb four miles to the Newcomb Aid Station – the same Newcomb Aid Station in the AC100. Here, you can pretend to be a real stud/studette. Then it’s time to go back to reality for a 2-mile “make-up loop.” This doesn’t mean that Xy Weiss and other dirt divas freshen up on this portion of the course – it means runners do a 2-mile loop that brings them right back to Newcomb before tackling what proves to be the toughest portion of the 50-miler.

After a refreshing 1,200-foot downhill on fireroad, the 50-miler runners arrive at the lowest location on the entire course — 2,800 feet —- in the San Gabriel River Canyon. Then the fun begins. Over the next six miles, as the sun hits it peak, runners climb to 4,750 feet, to the Shortcut Aid Station (mile 40.9.) This part of the Mt. Dis 50-miler is, oh, how shall we phrase this: pure hell? Unadorned misery? Yeah, that sounds about right. Just as runners prepare for a spot to fall down and die, a makeshift aid station, at around mile 38, saves them from a merciful death. Hilliard, ever the genius, parked some Search and Rescue experts here under a canopy with ice-cold drinks to make sure runners would at least survive and make it to Shorcut. His strategy worked.

After that lovely ordeal, runners enjoyed a fun but technical single-track all the way to the base of the Kenyon Devore Trail, where all that separated them from the finish line was that last brutal uphill. But compared to the climb out of the San Gabriel River Canyon, it almost feels pleasant, as most of the trail is shady.

The stories from runners of this year’s Mt. Dis were thick with anecdotes of agony and conquest – the usual mix from a battle-scarred ultrarunner.

Ben Gaetos, last year’s winner of the “Get to the Finish Award” for most determined runner, finished the 50-miler in 12:54, compared to 14:24 in 2007 — good for almost dead last. “My goal this year was to redeem myself from last year’s almost disastrous finish,” Ben said, referring to throwing up from halfway to the climb to Shortcut until the finish. “My blue shirt almost turned all white due to electrolyte loss,” Ben recalled. “Man, that was the worst feeling.” Yes, like most ultrarunners, Ben is blessed with amnesia.

Kirk Fortini (14:22, in the 50-miler) waxed poetic about Mt. Dis, a return venue for the veteran ultrarunner from the Salton Sea or somewhere like that: “The best part of every race is the sea of familiar faces. You realize that, while solitary in nature, our endeavor is not a function at which we are the center. Rather, we feed into it as much as we get out of it.” Are you getting Brokeback Mountain vibes here?

“Indeed,” said Kirk, whipping himself into a lather, “we feed from one another’s energy. And, to share a few words of nervousness, encouragement, or humor with our fellow athletes only helps to emphasize that we need each other all the more.”

Jeez, Fortini – sounds like you’ve been watching too many episodes of Dr. Phil. For his punishment, the laces on Kirk’s Salomons broke before he ever left the pavement. So, for more than 48 miles, he had to deal with that nagging problem.

“It’s cool, though,” Kirk says, “because when I bent over to fix the things, a mountain biker used my behind to park his bike. Must have thought it was a bike rack.”

To add to the surreal factor of Mt. Dis, two of the Search and Rescue officials who were working the death-march stretch to Shortcut shared his surname. Wow, trippy man!

Gina Natera-Armenta, coming off a fabulous San Diego 100, where she was the top female finisher, got sucked into the mysterious vortex that is Mt. Dis. She dropped to the 50k, finishing in a respectable 8:09, after feeling crappy from the start. Gina says she felt overheated only two to three miles into the race. She ended up going to the hospital after peeing blood. Now, we ultrarunners can be hardcore, and sometimes stupid, but when the crimson tide flows, it’s always wise to call it a day and get checked out. Here’s hoping for a quick recovery, Gina!

Bill Ramsey, who runs his own city in south Orange County (“The Real Bureaucrats of OC,” a TV pilot in the works, is based on his life), said, “Thank God that Gary offers both a 50M and 50K option and allows runners to change their minds mid-race. I had never changed events in mid-race, but there’s always a first time, and MD50 was it for me.

“Don’t know if it was the fast downhill asphalt start or the terrain or the heat, but my butt was fairly kicked by the time I arrived at the 26-mile aid station. I had lots of company, though.”

Ramsey also pulled a McNair, helping out a runner in distress. He and Bud Phillips (12:15, 50-miler) came upon 30-year-old Nicole Luque sitting in the middle of the trail sobbing and unable to get up due to severe leg cramps. The two decidedly older gents tended to her and eventually coaxed her to stand, and with an arm over each of their shoulders, walked Nicole a distance down the trail until she was able to walk off the cramps.

“When she assured us she could move on her own,” Ramsey said, “we wished her the best and headed down the trail. Later, at the finish, I saw her come running across the finish line. What a studette.”

Indeed: Nicole finished the 50k in 7:25, less than a half hour behind Bill, who finished in 6:59.

All in all it was a successful day for anybody who just made it off that darm mountain alive. Yes, there are super-human androids like David Goggins who was home cutting the lawn before most people hit the 20-mile mark but his performance along with others like Kyle Hoang we’ve come to know and expect. We’d break those guys legs if they weren’t such stand-up guys and world-class athletes. Plus, we can’t catch them anyway.

So, it’s time to lick our wounds, break out the Mona Vie Pilates video and get back to our triple-padded burber carpeting in the safety of our Orange County living rooms. It’s time for some quality reading to get in tune with the deeper, more important things in life: “OK kids, who moved my SKY MALL magazine?”

Stumbled and reported by Charlie Nickell.

Ran and reported by OC Register writer Greg Hardesty.

What: Mt. Disappointment 50k/50 Miler

When: August 2008

Where: Angeles National Forest, CA

Race Director: Gary Hilliard

Course Short Description: Cement, Climb, Puke, Short Cut & Die!

The Swiftwick Top Finishers:

50-miler Men
1.) Jorge Pacheco         7:41:00
2.) Troy Howard              8:27:44
3.) Kyle Hoang                   8:55:52

Women
1.) Renee Roberts                10:18.26
2.) Juliette Morgan                10:42:11
3.) Jannifer Heiner                 10:46:12

50-K

Men
1.) Jonathan Mitchell          4:55:20
2.) David Goggins                4:56:13
3.) Cheppo Jimenez                5:03:59

Women
1.) Janice Anderson      6:33:01
2.) Lynn Lognan             6:54:48
3.) Maya Kass                 7:00:04

Web site: http://www.mtdisappointment50k.com

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Category: Mt. Disappointment 50k/50m

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What’s up with the brutal names of these ultra-marathons? Badwater Ultramarathon, Leadville Trail 100 Mile, El Scorcho 50K, Lemon Juice Open Wound 100K. I have to hand it to these savvy race directors – they certainly know their brain-damaged audience. The line of insanity goes like this: The more difficult the race name, the more challenging it must be. If it sounds brutal, the self-torturing ultra-marathon junkies have to register. No 2,000-ton braggadocios mountain is going to defeat a 90-to 200-pound human being; we train, our legs ferret out lactic acid, we snort unflavored recovery powder and urinate like juiced-up wolverines!!!

The name “Mt. Disappointment 50k/50m” certainly does nothing to narrow down its elevated location. The Run Down (TRD) has friends in nearby Pasadena who immediately knew where Mt. Wilson is but thought Mt. Disappointment described their MBA son working at Blockbusters. Call the event “Heavenly Climax 50k/50m” or “Have a Wonderful Day Endurance Trail Run” and nobody shows up. Name it “Candy Mountain 50k/50m” and three unicorns and a rainbow PR. If The Run Down (TRD) ever launches an ultra-marathon we’re calling it “Giving Birth to Triplets with No Epidural 50K.” It could be held on a track and would sell out in three hours. On paper, Mt. Disappointment looked easy. The only thing easy on Aug. 2007 was Greg Hardesty. We’re here to inform you that Mt. Diss Me was one of the toughest 50k/50m that many veteran participants had ever encountered. Oh yeah, that’s apparently a really good thing. Welcome to Planet Backwards, can we take your coat?

It was a Saturday morning made for ultras. There was a thick cloud/marine layer as far as the eye could see. It would’ve come in real handy had it not been 3,000 feet below. Driving up the Angeles Crest Highway, it dawned on us that the clouds seemed extremely far away. The surroundings were shaping up as serious mountain terrain with huge trees, real boulders and thinning air. In the distance we spotted a high-speed chair lift. Oh good, potential snow, lift lines, boda bags and snow boarders strung out on Monster.

Parking was a breeze in an all-asphalt lot; don’t see that too often. TRD paid extra for valet but again (just like LH50K) got scammed, so they shuffled us into a nice spot only 20 feet off the start/finish. We covered the Corvair, tipped some dude holding a clipboard and considered ourselves lucky. There was a 500-foot gain/loss in reaching the registration tables but we managed to get checked in and all bibbed up just in time for Gary “PITA” Hilliard’s infamous pre-race diatribe.

Rd_speach Gary belted out the normal RD threats: throw trash on the trail and you’ll never be back, you have the right to remain silent, no parking in the white zone…The course is marked in orange ribbons. That was news to us. We’ve never heard that one before. We’re used to Lake Hodges’ maimed-stuffed animal routine and abandoned cars lining the trail, or the SJT50K’s subliminal arrows. Orange ribbons? OK, you wild and crazy guy, we’re game.

Then, Gary begins calling out individual participants while asking each to stand next to his truck/stage. We figured these were all the flakes who bounced entry checks. That made sense as Gary called up Eric Lumba, Kevin McGuiness and Jerry Armstrong – all of whom owe TRD gobs of money. Anyway, it started to get a bit embarrassing and then Gary announced this group as U.S. veterans and it’s all very uplifting and motivational. Great, we’ll be playing Commando (where’s Fortini?) today. Being sissy OC folks, The Run Down was glad to know that if there was a terrorist incident at Mt. Dis, that we wouldn’t have to do any of the fighting. We did ask Jerry Armstrong what he actually did in the Armed Services and he gave us some smart-aleck answer like “Yeah, I have two arms” and “I like good service.” It’s like talking to my 4-year-old son.

With a few more vague directions and some warning about the last five miles, we were off (should’ve listened to that last five mile dealio). If it was your first Mt. Dis adventure, you have no clue that you’re standing at the top of the evil Kenyon Devore Trailhead (KDT). At this early juncture, Kenyon Devore means nothing to you. Later, when you return to the same spot after covering 31 or 50 miles, you’ll have formed an opinion about the KDT; more on the Yellow Brick Road’s evil twin later.

The first 2.5 miles of Mt. Dis is heavenly asphalt in a beautiful 560-foot decent. Oh, there’s nothing quite like a street marathon to kick off an ultra-marathon. To say the group went out fast is an understatement. Leigh “Turbo” Corbin (8:37:01) and George “the Guru” Velasco (8:37:02) could be heard laughing out loud from the back of the pack. Only two minutes into the race and Turbo was relishing the impending trail reunions she would have in few gleeful hours. I personally ran an 8:30 first mile knowing it was a blatant mistake. But, race starts are like one big “try your first beer” rock & roll party; it’s hard not getting swept up in all the peer pressure. Pass the bong!

Once you eventually hit dirt at mile 2.5 it’s like the race restarts itself. Markum Saddle to the Mt. Disappointment Trail was a welcome oasis of dirt, rocks and leaves. Markum Saddle hosts a freaky Universal Studios-type spinning tunnel where we started to contract miner’s lung due to the stagnant, floating foot dust. There was a decent incline exiting the tunnel of mold but nothing overly steep. Markum Saddle transitions into the Mt. Disappointment Trail, and it’s a nice gradual 500-foot incline followed by a 1,000-foot drop on your way back to Mt. Wilson Road.

Reaching cement after a brief photo shoot and autograph session, it’s the San Diego Rock & Roll Marathon revisited: time for an 8-minute mile. We were going so fast at the end of this road that stopping at the Red Box Aid Station #1 wasn’t even an option; never saw it, but heard the service was excellent.

Entering the Gabrielino Trail, it was downhill single track for the next 4.5 miles followed by a quick combo blacktop road/trail climb up to the buffet table at the Cedar Creak Aid Station #2. Cedar Creek Aid Station looked like a lost Corner Bakery with a serious long-term location issue. I ordered the stone-baked Thai Chicken pizza, an artichoke quiche and a soy latte. They were out of quiche; frikin’ Hardesty! I swear, this was the longest, most compartmentalized, completely stocked and fully featured aid station we’d ever seen. Cindy Yankee,(rouge aid station volunteer, crewing for Jerry Armstrong) had my hydration bottles filled and ready to go in less than 30 seconds. The whole experience was more like a NASCAR pit stop. I had Cindy adjust my head gasket, jack me up and then lube the differential. I got completely cut off accelerating out of pit row and later filed a complaint with track officials. I wondered if Copenhagen, Tide or Marlboro might sponser me.

The climb from mile 10.8 to the Josephine Aid Station at mile 13.45 is pure joy. The saying “you never want to see your future” in ultra running refers to how far in the distance you can see the trail in which you’ll have to travel. The runner’s immediate future on this trail portion was front center: a 3-mile exposed fire road which stares runners down like an Amway distributor trying to make initial eye contact.. It’s one of those inclines you can’t decide if you should run or power walk. Or, maybe that’s just the crowd we hang out with.

The map stated that the Josephine Aid Station was water only. We had pictured some dude and his Pathfinder rationing water from warm jugs; wrong. This aid station could’ve been the lead aid station for many other endurance events. Fully staffed and stocked, the runners loaded up on the surprise goodies. Back on the trial, you’re greeted by some relatively flat-to-rollercoaster running for approximately the next 6 miles.

We’re not sure where we first spotted Keira Henninger but it was somewhere around the 18-mile mark. As we caught up with the OC Trail Princess, Keira was walking with her small entourage of 100-mile veterans (Run DMC and the lead singer from STYX). She informed us with OC attitude, “I’m out.’’ Sick to her stomach and trying to record some quality miles before the upcoming Where’s Waldo 100K, Keira had enough with Sigourney Weaver’s tummy alien and was hoofing it into Red Box where she would eat some innocent raw plants (they have feelings too) and then DNF. One of the toughest gals we know, it was worrisome trail news. One starts to ponder, if Keira’s DNFing, I should probably give up the sport entirely to avoid permanent disfigurement or RLS. Little did we know that this was an advanced strategy ploy designed to torment our small minds; more on this twisted trail moment at mile 24.5.

Just when most runners started feeling decent again, you hit the Strawberry Trail, which has a gradual snake-like climb back up 740 feet before reaching the Red Box Aid Station #3 for the second time at mile 21.2. We only saw a few folks run up the Strawberry Trail. Personally, I didn’t see one darn strawberry plant, migrant worker or Juice it Up. By the way, are the blenders at Juice it Up the noisiest kitchen appliances you’ve ever heard? We can make entire electric cars that emit zero noise but the blender conundrum is too complicated for modern science to tackle? And, is it against the law to name a trail “The Dirt Uphill Trail?” Then, as I tripped and lightly scraped my kneecap, the name made perfect sense. Most walked, power walked or used their kid’s Hipitee Hop to negotiate the Strawberry Switchblade.

It’s funny to compare how one feels the first time hitting the Red Box Aid Station at mile 5.7 and then again at mile 21.2. It’s almost as if you’re participating in two different events. Now at mid-day, there were runners sitting all over the place. We couldn’t get the Aid Station volunteers to work slowly enough. Leaving the aid station went from a speedy priority to a death thought. We just loved the nice stairs leaving Red Box. Angel stadium seats ZZ99 are easier to negotiate after a warm 20-ouncer than this hodge-podge of misguided roof shingles. Had I known that after leaving Red Box I wouldn’t keep one ounce of food or water down for the remaining 10 miles, I don’t think I would’ve continued.

About 1/2 mile outside Red Box, the nausea hit hard. I guess you’re supposed to stop running when you puke but I couldn’t remember reading anything on the topic so I proceeded to ralph every quarter mile or so down the side of my right leg; water in, water out. Gatorade in, Gatorade out. Wax on, wax off. Gel in, gel out. It got comical so I stopped stuffing my face and moved along with an aerodynamically induced waist bend I had seen used by Olympic curlers suffering from indoor ice sickness; it’s a brutally demanding sport.

Mile 23 and I spot one of the toughest back-to-back endurance guys I know laid flat out on his back. Kevin Nasman was having even more serious stomach issues than I and was trying his hardest to do a good Karen Carpenter impersonation but to no avail. Sick and bloated, Kevin was done and loudly cursing his dark chocolate energy gel he unfortunately chose for the wrong day; liquid tootsie rolls. We promised Kevin we’d send help in the morning and split. Cool, we finally passed someone. It’s a dog-eat-crappy-gel world.

It’s at mile 24.5 that I get passed by Keira Henninger (6:47:49). What a fantastic emotional lift it is to get picked off by someone who already DNF’d. What the helll? Adrenal shot to the heart at Red Box? Did Mr. 100 Andy Kumeda slip her a bindle? She looked great (always does) but was extremely concerned about Kevin so she bails on me and speeds off. As Keira accelerates away, she gets stung by a wasp; insects have a keen sense for foul play. The DNF misdirection strategy worked and I was too sick and despondent to physically and/or mentally respond. The next time I would see Keira would be with a winner’s plaque in her hand. Remind me to DNF in the next race so I can place. It’s all so confusing.

It’s not long before superman RD Gary Hilliard is seen heading up to retrieve Kevin. What a great job this whole RD/Medic thing appears to be; can’t wait not to be one. Just tell us where to send the checks. Keep up the great work. Ben & Jerry shakes served in souvenier cold cups would be a nice touch next year.

The entire five miles between Red Box and the West Fork Aid Station #5 is very runable if you’re not vomiting or if your legs still remember how to properly function; a bit exposed at times, but generally an area that if you save yourself one could really make up some lost time. By the time I was done with this section, there was a small family of squirrels feeding off my dried, chunk-riddled shorts. I would’ve let them stay but they store nuts and that process sounded discomforting (though Avedian, I hear, is into it).

The West Fork Aid Station #4 (mile 26.2), to no surprise, was another Nordstrom Café. Not able to eat or drink, I downed an entire Monster Energy just for the flavor and then immediately filled the can back up; in hindsight it was a mistake putting it back in the ice. Sitting on one of the chairs shaking pebbles out of my shoes, I had no idea what was to immediately follow. Thirsty, real thirsty, I figured anyone can jog 5 miles up a hill for a Coke and some cold pizza. Had I known what was about to take place, I would’ve activated my AARP medic alert key chain and waited for the ambulance. One simple request, “I’ve fallen and can’t get up” and I’m home.

One hundred yards up the Kenyon Devore Trail, I get passed by Dolph Lundgren and he proclaims, “This is the easy part.’ I didn’t think much of it but should’ve. The history of the Kenyon Devore Trail is well documented. If you want details about the origin of the name, it’s covered in Greg Hardesty’s Coastal Challenge blog: click here. This trail is The Mt. Disappointment 50k/50m calling card. The PGA Masters has Amen Corner, Major League Baseball has the Green Monster, Donkey Kong has that really tough level nine and Mt. Dis 50k/50m has The Kenyon Devore Trail. Most ultras ease up toward the end of the course but this pleasure cruise gets infinitely more difficult as the mileage piles on. In a nutshell, you run a full marathon and then climb 2,600 feet in 5 miles. If it weren’t for significant tree shade, this trail would resemble “Dawn of the Dead IV” with lifeless zombies eating each other to survive.

If you’re watching the race clock for some ultra PR, better allot between 1½ to 3 hours to scamper, limp or run/sleep the Kenyon Devore Trail. I was on the trail so long I saw a rock go from granite to quartz and a baby red-tailed hawk learn to fly, mate, raise young, die and then fossilize. Reports from the field had individuals recording 30-minute miles or more. We’ve seen Galapagos Sea Turtles move through sand dunes with more pizzazz.

At mile 29, we came across a surprising site. It was none other than 10K speed demon #105 Carl Borg (7:13:54). Carl is scary fast and was participating in his very first ultra. I guess Badwater sold out or something. Carl was suffering from classic dehydration and since my water wouldn’t stay down and I was just using it to squirt ants, I gave Carl half. Mark The Run Down’s word, if Carl hangs with his newfound habit, the RDs will be handing him plenty of wood plaques; great guy, better athlete and pretty good coach from what we’re told.

When it takes the Jet Lee of ultra running over 11 hours to complete 50 miles, you know something went terribly wrong. #236 Kyle Huong, doing prep work for the upcoming AC100, looked as worked as we’ve ever seen him. Even his car alarm wouldn’t cooperate as the Mt. Wilson communication antennas jammed its signal; one of those days.

The post-race recovery and food fest area was outrageous. The deck and porch-like set-up was second to none. From pizza to sandwiches to warm Chicken Noodle soup, the food and beverages were top notch. We can’t say enough about the aid stations and post-feast inventory and/or variety of edible delights. It was like cruising through the grocery store and ripping off food from really nice people. And, the TRD pet peeve on not having enough race day ice was never in play. Ice, ice and more ice. We could’ve been in Alaska; totally awesome.

As for some of the runners, in a no-surprise upset, Jorge Pacheco beat God again and won the 50 miler in 8:25:48. In 2008, Jorge is going to race Dash from “The Incredibles;” Newport Beach to Catalina. Nobody knows how Jorge is planning on pulling it off but one things for sure, he’ll come to the finish line looking like he just got out of a refreshing shower. Not human, somebody get a blood sample.

Ruperto Romero came in a distant second in 8:47:27. It’s pretty obvious that if you have a name of Spanish decent it helps the ultra time; like quite a bit. I’ve registered for the Noble Canyon 50k as Carlos Centavo; 4:54:43 no doubt. Donde esta la trophie?

John “El Cubano” Martinez (9:07:40) was lurking around in the shadows all day. The current PCT50 race director, well out of his jurisdiction, was trying to blend in and not get noticed. However, there’s a permanent all-points TRD bulletin out for the mad Cuban due to his misguided comments in July’s UltraRunning Magazine. For those of you who don’t subscribe to the monochrome pub or are just too busy on MySpace.com, here’s the quote from John’s 2007 PCT50 race report: “Originally planning on pacing her Orange County back-of-the-pack buddy Charlie Nickell, Barton came to her senses just in the nick of time and entered the race for herself.” Ok, fine. I’m not the fastest guy in the world but did record a 5:40 at this year’s Twin Peaks 50k and came in overall 13th in the 2007 SJT50K. But, OK. I’ll accept the back-of-the-pack snub. However, seeing how I threw up for two hours while running my Mt. Disappointment 50k and still managed to finish in front of “El Cubano,” we’ll use a Cuban cigar/cigarette metaphor for perspective. If I’m back-of-the-pack, then you can locate El Cubano in the rear of the carton where he’s eventually going to get all lit up. Put that in your Styrofoam cooler, sneak over to Florida canoe and paddle it in. Oh, I’m going to need an alias to register in the 2008 PCT50. Payback’s a bitch.

Forget about Mike, we want to be like Fred. Is there a So Cal ultra Fred Pollard doesn’t hang out and help (or run) from dusk to dawn? Not sure what exact portion of the Kenyon Devore Trail he was on but he looked clean, studly and stately. Fred may not realize it, but we at the TRD run because of Fred. As we get wiser, we want to finish Badwater too and kick the butts of our snotty OC teenage neighbors who can barely get off the couch to crack open a 64oz ROCKSTAR. Fred is a class act. Personally, it was a mental boost just seeing him. Fred, maybe next time you can show up a bit earlier on the trail instead of 200 yards from the finish.

Dean Dobberteen was spotted in two places. First, emerging from his van and secondly at the post-race festivities requesting a table dance. We’re not ones to gossip but Dean had a bad outfit day; shoe issues apparently. So, Dean what’s up? Wrong color stripes? Tread clashed with the shades? What was it? Inquiring minds want to know. We had money on the guy and the DNF didn’t go over well with the bookies. If Dean pulls out of the Noble Canyon 50K, we’re bagging our Dean Christmas calendar project and falling back to the Paul Avedian pre-stained coffee mugs. We swear, we’ll do it.

On her way out of town on vacation, Michelle Barton stopped by in just enough time to take overall fourth in 5:17:32 and, of course, first female winner in new record style. We’ve lost track of the 2007 course records for Michelle. Most people would kill for a top ten. Imagine winning 90% of every ultra race you entered. It’s so kooky even we can’t think of anything to say. Maybe it’s the hair thing. Look at Greg Hardesty’s improving ultra times. The longer his hair gets, the faster her gets. Got off topic, sorry.

We never see Michelle on the actual course. She always bolts and the next time we’ll see her is near the finish where she humbly adorns her first-place plaque. It’s beginning to resemble the sunrise and sunset. It just happens, and don’t bother trying to figure it out. “The iMichelle will come out tomorrow, tomorrow.”

Jerry Armstrong 10:25:16, your 2007 PCT 50 second-place finisher, had what one calls an off day. Now, being a gentleman, Jerry refused to puke on the trail despite constant nausea in the later part of the race. Heading up the now infamous Kenyon Devore Trail, Jerry did his best impersonation of a dead possum. Laying down for two minutes and then running a hundred yards, Jerry would repeat this drill for an hour while making the final ascent. Jerry was recently sponsored by Sparkletts purified water but we think their green towel moniker slowed him down. Plus, have you seen the size of the water bottles he has to lug around now? Maybe he was just on his pick-up/delivery route.

Lake Hodges 50k RD, don’t spell my name wrong again, Kevin McGuinness (6:58:09) would survive the Kenyon Devore Trail but his sunglasses wouldn’t. Kevin ran head first into a fallen tree that was hanging directly over the trail and smashed his TV offer Amber Vision spy shades. For those of you who don’t know Kevin, like me, he’s around 6’ 11” and things that aren’t obstacles for most of us are life-threatening overhangs for him. We’ve seen him do a double-pump, reverse dunk.

The Run Down has to thank all the participants who wore their team-issued logo shirts. Are the logos big enough on the back or what? They work nice for search and rescue helicopter sightings when we lay face planted on some remote trail.

Greg Hardesty (6:06:06) looked sharp wearing the company uniform gray. Sure beats that Pre Lives/Woodstock cotton ordeal he normally wears. When I first saw Greg’s Pre shirt I thought it was in reference to a sexual performance issue he was having.

Eric Lumba (7:09:08), fresh off his first ultra, looked calm, cool and collected. It’s hard to believe he can run and keep his wireless Internet connection alive so he can bill web design hours while competing. I think that takes him out of amatuer status.

Michael Voris (8:21:42), fresh off a taper mountain bike accident that required 30 stitches, adorned his gray duds. What a stud. Michael got first place in the Post Traumatic Shock Syndrome category.

Kirk Fortini (14:03:19), always the company man, had to cut the sleeves off his shirt so he could fit into the darn thing but looked like Conan the Barbarian as he assaulted the Mt. Dis hills in the 50 miler. Dude, loose the sword, you’ll knock off two hours.

Pam Everett (7:26:30) didn’t get lost in the 50k. That’s all our attorneys will allow us to say. Oh yeah, she took a shower with The Run Down in the parking lot after the race.

Robert Schipsi (6:19:27) was present for his AC100 warm up run. We love guys who take 31 miles to loosen up.

Past Mt. Dis participant, Ladera Ranch endurance king and Twin Peaks 50 mile third place finisher Steve Lind wasn’t present; rumor has it he only runs 5ks. Steve is the fastest hill runner in Southern California and runs the entire length of the Kenyone Devore Trail. Maybe we’ll see him next year.

Kevin Nasman emerged from the black hole called Kenyon Devore and we realized he was one of Keira Henninger’s fake DNF co-conspirators. Don’t ask me exactly how, but it’s one of those word/math problems we all got “Fs” on in college but Kevin ran 30.5 miles and didn’t get a finishers medal; must be a vegan thing. Kevin is seen here showing Pam Everett proper puking technique.

Eric Klingsporn (7:10:02) was wearing his blue OCTR minature logo shirt. We overheard a stink bug tell a yellow jacket that they couldn’t make out the OCTR graphics; too small. “Honey, I shrunk the logo.” OK, we’re done and it’s not Eric’s fault. He had a smart race and looked fresh at the finish. However, his tiny logo looked tired. Man he has perfect teeth.

Wacky Nattie Norman (11:01:24) was there all smiles and looking at the world through rose-colored glasses. Did she really just say, “Was there a hill in the last five miles?” She must have been channeling Shirley MacClain or something.

Alexa Dickerson (9:16:57) picked Mt. Dis as her first ultra endeavor. She and Carl Borg need new guidance counselors. Or, a counsler period.

Pat Knoff (13:15:31) was spotted on the trail by county officials who mistook him in his very orange outfit as a lost Cal Trans worker. The whole misunderstanding was easily cleared up when they noticed Pat was actually moving, and that, by definition, would have made him unqualified for government contract work.

Jennifer Forman ran her 50 miles in 13:51:00. However, despite pausing for a live bear crossing, her ultra didn’t start until the drive home. Riding the RV breaks pretty hard down the Angeles Crest Highway, Jennifer realized on the 210 freeway that she had absolutely no brakes. It’s a good thing she lives so close by in the Inland Empire. With the help of her husband (police officer) and after plowing into an AM PM for coffee, she was miraculously able to coast the carrier into her driveway. Alexa Dickerson, who RV pooled with Jennifer, looks to drive herself or hitchhike next year.

As I write this irresponsible piece, Gary Hilliard lays in his hospital bed recovering from a nasty motorcycle spill that nearly cost him his life. Those who know Gary, understand he is one tough SOB who has fought off early death on multiple occasions. But, it made me think (I do that twice a year): What would Mt. Disappointment 50k/50m be without Gary Hilliard? The answer’s obvious, it wouldn’t. If you distill things down, these races are the reflection of their chief organizer — the race director. Sure, maybe the race goes on with someone else at the helm but it becomes something else.

Mt. Disappointment is synonymous with Gary Hilliard and his brilliantly placed Kenyon Devore debacle, army-like run aid stations, unending personal support and dedication. Just like The San Juan Trail 50K is Baz Hawley, The PCT50 is John Martinez, Twin Peaks 50/50 is Jessica Deline and Lake Hodges 50k is Kevin McGuiness. You can’t really think about these races without seeing and feeling the personality of their caretakers. Sure, TRDs just trying unsuccessfully to get comped entries and limo service, but you get the gist.

Would we run Mt. Dis again? The sooner the better! That mountain took more soul than it dished out and there’s nothing worse than having to think about getting your rump handed to you for an entire year. Do we recommend it to first timers? No, maybe not, if crazy fine. Newbies might be better served by staying at home and repeatedly pounding their heads with a frying pan. You’ll feel better and you’ll be at home feeling like crap instead of stuck on the side of some random ridge. The trails, trees, creeks and general scenery in and around Mt. Dis are off the charts. We’ll use the combo word “chonus” to describe the course; choice & bonus. A real savior is the predominance of shade; 70% of the run is done in the shadowy slice of heaven.

As for the 50 miler, be seriously prepared for the 11 miles after the 50k/50m split at the West Fork Aid Station #4. You’ll find water in three miles but load up on food prior because it’s uphill for at least 8 additional miles on very exposed trail until you find another Corner Bakery. Runner feedback was that this particular section took its toll on the group and TRD credits this portion for some of the longer-than-normal finishing times of the more elite runners.

Ultra running is technically a solo sport but you never really complete these races on your own. It takes around 50 or more volunteers willing to blow an entire Saturday to help runners accomplish a goal. That’s just reality. Without the unknown, sometimes-faceless help, you wouldn’t last 20 miles. Don’t forget to thank and tip your server(s). It’s on that note we sign off. Next year, Mt. Dis will be a completely different story. With poise and self-discipline, we’ll all go out slow, walk the hills and save ourselves for the Kenyon Devore Show. Dream on. Anybody have a starting block we can borrow?

Written, ran and reported by Charlie Nickell.

Edited and ran by OC Register reporter Greg Hardesty.

Summary:

When: Saturday, August 11, 2007

Where: San Gabriel Mountains, CA

Race Director: Gary Hilliard

Course Description: Hard. Save something for the last five miles.

Top finishers:

50-miler

Men
Jorge Pacheco                   8:25:48
Ruperto Romero                8:47:27
Brian Polley                      8:53:08

Women
Diana Rush                      10:17.29
Ronnie Wilde                   10:24:51
Renee Roberts                10:29:44

50-K

Men
Josh Brimhall                4:55:43
Matthais Schoeck          4:59:59
Steve Cunningham          5:15:28

Women
The iMichelle Barton          5:17:32
Gina Arm-Natera             6:26:32
Susan Owen                   6:43:16

Web site: http://www.mtdisappointment50k.com

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