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Due to a fifty million dollar road improvement project, just getting to the 2007 San Juan Trail 50K was an ultra in and of itself. With Saturday’s fog and Ortega Highway down to one lane, reaching the starting line on time required flawless navigation. I’ve run singletrack that was wider and less technical than various road sections in route to Blue Jay. Ortega Highway is full of dirty surprises for the Orange County stucco dwellers. Approaching Casper’s Wilderness Park at 5:55 a.m., I spotted a homeless hitchhiker. After determining it wasn’t Baz, I pondered the gentlemen’s situation and thought. If I gave him some Gu maybe he’d pace for me. Probably good at finding food and water, he could panhandle a few bucks by mile twenty and offset my entry fee. I’m not good with BO so I continued solo while passing numerous sleeping bulldozers on the side of the road. Who parks these dinosaurs? What happened to 18 inches from the curb? It must be 18 feet. I missed the memo.
“Are you talking while I’m talking?” Rob Cowan and I started to quietly chat as Baz addressed the runners. We were dead meat. I felt like grabbing Rob and throwing him to the ground; like they do in the army movies when a grenade rolls into the bunker but, it was too late for heroics. Rob caught the wrath head on while I got some shrapnel from Baz’s rocket launcher. I’m not giving anymore editorial space to this topic seeing how I can’t even follow my own advice. Just shut up when the Paul Hogan guy starts yelling.
Having personally competed in last years SJT50K in 85+ degree heat, the fog was a welcomed replacement. Come race time, the cool temperature kept heart rates down, hydration up and legs frosty. The rocks weren’t damp enough to be slippery but, if you came across a root or fallen tree, you had to be careful. These puppies were slimy, slippery and reminded me of Greg Hardesty’s (OC Register reporter) hair after a long run. Visibility, at times, was thirty yards. Not sure who’s cultivating the SJT pot plants but, they goofed and planted poison oak instead. I spend most of my time off the edges of most singletrack and must have looked like some nut running thru a twenty mile long salad bar trying to avoid the croutons. Next year, I’m wearing Levi’s and bringing a cordless weed whacker.
Michael Mazza, fresh off his sub-five hour LH50K ultra debut, arrived to cheer the runners on just as we exited the lower Blue Jay parking lot; fog, Baz directions and Ortega Hwy victim #1. I waved to Michael and then felt guilty for the next eight miles. I lacked the class to stop and thank him for coming out. It’s not like you fall out of bed and poof, you’re in the middle of the Cleveland National Forest. It takes serious early morning effort. That being said, I passed The Mazza Man and returned to my iPod and the Wiggles Greatest Hits. I can’t seem to get enough of that “Fruit Salad” song. Anybody got a Snickers bar?
The SJT50K initial nine miles of downward spiraling singletrack is truly magic. The forest section is lush with unending tree canopy. Some of the more rocky areas slice through head high brush and you get this funnel effect which literally sucks you down to your ultimate destination. A few flatter trails had sand bottoms which was a fantastic soft break for the feet. This portion of the run has by far some of the most beautiful wilderness that the Cleveland National Forest has to offer. The panoramic views are staggering. That being said, some of the trail could use guardrails; a stumble here and you’re Greg Louganis with no pool or boyfriend to break the fall. In the fog, the trail had a Sherwood Forest personality. And, with Robin Hood running the show at Blue Jay, everything fit nicely into place.
OK, what’s up with the aid station Coke? I just reviewed the last twelve issues of Trail Runner, Ultra Running and Runner’s World Magazines and can’t find one reference to the carbonated, caffeinated, sugar water. Is that good or bad? I love the stuff but, not sure if I’m supposed to be hydrating during an ultra like I’m at the movies scarfing popcorn. Pepsi or Coke? I took the Pepsi challenged and picked Pepsi. Who’s making the soft drink decisions? Monster & Mountain Dew seem big in the extreme sports. Are they considered? Remember, where there’s Coke, Starbucks is quick to follow. The Seattle coffee bean giant knows, find a Coke addict and you’ll find other non-loyal caffeine junkies willing to shuck the cold beverage for a double espresso. Before you know it, the aid stations are offering lemon scones and pecan loafs. It all starts with a soft drink and some 100-mile ultra volunteer and ends up with a spiky hair kid named Switch handing out Banana Dulce Coffee Cakes, Caramel Macchiatos and demanding tips. When Baz gets a donkey and has the whole Juan Valdez look, don’t come crying to me. I’m out of here.
Approximately, six miles into the run I get passed by someone doing sprint intervals. This guy was running so fast, I figured there must be a mountain lion chasing him and he was putting some fresh meat (me) between him and Mustafa. I had not seen Jorge Pacheco at the start and guessed it must be the legend himself. I followed him for a few minutes to see what the 100 yard dash feels like for 1,000 yards; not so good. Jorge doesn’t run, he floats. His feet are well off the ground and his form is second to none. He looked like he was running on a track and not on some technical, uneven dirt path. And, then he was gone. The next time I’ll likely see Jorge will be in a magazine. Eleven minutes late, due to fog, Baz’s directions and Ortega Hwy (victim #2), it’s scary to think what his finishing time could’ve been. Having to pass folks certainly slowed him down. I now refer to Jorge as Jorge Pechanga. Finding the trail seam, he’s the human slot machine and is even money to take home the trophy. Jorge would go on to win in 4:45:08. Did I mention Jorge showed up late and was allowed to continue? I guess that’s the respect you deserve after finishing second in the 2003 Western States 100 (17:17:46). You or I show up late and its trash detail cleaning out Baz’s 1945 truck.
Not to beat a dead horse but, read this 2006 Rocky Racoon report. "But he did not know what we already knew. He was flying down the trail and came in full of enormous energy to see that he had only just barley missed the 100 mile trail world record. I don’t know if he saw our faces first or the clock, but the air seemed to come out of him as he checked his watch, then the main timing clock. He now knew! He had run the race of a lifetime, but the clock ran faster than he did. To run that grand and that strong and to feel the disappointment he felt, that all of us felt was so odd. he had just run a 13:16:56. His last split was another 2:43 for a 8:11 pace, a 100mi pace of 7:58. It was unbelievable, All of us stood there with him, in shock. I shook his hand and he got warm congrats from all, but it was 54 seconds short of perfect. Jorge has the manners of a humble gentle soul with the heart of a lion. Every one of us wanted so badly for him to have this thing he wanted, but there was nothing more we could do. I heard tell of him giving way to the other runner’s all day and offering encouragement. I am not so certain that I have ever met a man that was at once this gentle and this tough at the same time. I wondered if this was how a true champion was supposed to be. I hope so. We could stand to have a few more champions like Jorge Pacheco."
I got to run with a legend in the little ole’ SJT50K. I’m gonna cry. "Tito, hand me a tissue."
Rob McNair almost pulled off a slight upset and finished strong in second place at 4:54:10. Find a 50K without Rob in the top five and it’s most likely the Summer Olympics. Do they even have an ultra event? Rob has been racing in Baz’s trail runs for at least twenty years and has many first place plaques for his efforts. At fifty-two, Rob is in better shape than most twenty-five year olds. I love how he is not only competitive but a real threat to win. As an ultra running neophyte, I’ve never spoken to Rob because I don’t know what to say to someone with that much experience. Hey, run here often? Plus, Baz is always brown nosing with the Huntington Beach native and I don’t want to rain on his teacher’s pet parade.
Eric Clifton had the coolest looking pants I’ve ever seen. Or, he got up late and forgot to change out of his PJs (fog, Baz directions and Ortega Hwy victim #3). Whatever the case, Eric had the early lead but was unable to hold off Jorge of the Jungle and took third place male in 5:23:47. Having recently moved to So. Cal, we’re going to see allot of Eric and his welcomed edgy attire. Baz speaks highly of Eric and his running accomplishments so the guy is obviously the real deal. Even if Baz said nothing, you can tell Eric has lots or records and/or titles. They guy is elite, just watch his form.
Rob Cowan shows up one minute before the gun fires and tells me (fog, Baz directions and Ortega Hwy victim #4), “I’m so not prepared for this”. Rob took seventh overall in 5:37:48. What would have happened had he been prepared? Ran the course twice in under seven hours? Started a business, took it public and finished twelfth? Did I mention he ran the Yakima River Marathon (along with Eric Clifton) the Saturday before in 3:02:00? Where do these people come from? Is Stepford somewhere nearby?
Robert Schipsci (Rob100k as he is known by migrant farm workers), did his normal dealio in 5:45:00 and then signed up for a mid-week ironman. Robert is leading the 2007 40-49 So. Cal Ultra Runners Grand Prix Series point standings. He must have family in that organization.
Andy Kumeda (AK, if you’re tight with the homie) finished, as usual, in the top ten at 5:52:05. Is this guy ever in a bad mood?
Eric Lumba, running in his first ultra, recorded a very respectable 7:12:50. No longer an ultra virgin, Eric can now tell his non-running buddies he completed a 50K. Nobody in the United States can convert kilometers so they’ll think he ran over fifty miles. He’ll nod but won’t correct them. “Awe, it was nothing, pass me the HTML.”
Thomas Wilson also completed his first ultra in 7:24:39. I like the yellow shirt and so do the bees.
Fred Pollard was so busy re-calculating my So. Cal Ultra Runners Grand Prix Series points that he apparently lost track of time and finished after making sure Baz was long gone.
Doug Malewicki (Michelle Barton’s father, the iDad) and Don Bach took off early and ran the backside of the SJT50K to mark the trail before the leaders hit West Horse Thief. Hikers on the North Main Divide mistakenly cheered Doug and Don on as they pretended to be running first & second overall. The UPYOURS (Ultra Police YOUR Really Sorry) were alerted and will likely revoke both course marking permits. It’s back to McDonalds for these two.
Becky Flowers, in only her third ultra, took home top female honors in a blistering time of 5:20:30; third overall. I never saw her but that’s no surprise. Anybody in the top five is home watching “Desperate Housewives” by the time I finish.
Michelle Barton (the iMichelle) proved she is human after all and came in second female at (5:29:49). Her battery seemed low but, reports also had her holstered in the wrong iPod carrier. In any respect, by the time I hit the finishing line, Michelle looked like she was ready for Easter Service; always put together this lady is. Be careful with her car. It’s a mobile Trader Joe’s with little refrigeration and no red meat. However, it has a nice supplement isle.
Anne Langstaff, who I tailed up West Horse Thief, smoked me on the back nine and took third female overall (6:00:34).
OCTR endurance legend Lori Heinselman Craig has seen better days and came in almost one hour off her personal SJT50K best. I won’t post her time. Lori is recovering nicely at the infectious disease center within Saddleback Memorial Hospital. The poison oak reaction has finally ceased and the skin graphs are adhering well. The OCTR is coming by to visit her and perform our famous poison oak lemon/vinegar spray. “Bite on some wood Lori, this might sting”.
The infamous Xy Weiss (7:27:04) was in full form. She has the coolest name configuration and better have it trademarked. She ran a Xcross route through the Xmas trees trying to win the Xtal. I was on the fence whether to keep that or X it out. OK, enough.
Apparently Leigh Corbin (Turbo) and George Velasco won the tandem competition in 8:42:34. I’ve never seen two people argue more happily about who was last or who was or wasn’t going to finish The WS100 but whatever the case, they seemed to be having a really good time. They should do a sitcom called “Two’s Not Company.”
A big thanks to last year’s SJT50K third overall female Kiera Henninger for coming out just to cheer us on. Who says ultra running isn’t a spectators sport? Official 2007 SJT50K crowd census reads “1”. It’s a beautiful start.
The last twelve miles of this race are the hardest; if you blow your quads in the previous nineteen miles you’re history. I was semi-history. Running and walking up the North Main Divide (NMD) was pleasant. Is there a worse road in Orange County? The only thoroughfare with slower traffic is in front of Baz’s Laguna Woods condo; use to be called Leisure World but, that rhymed with seizure so they changed it. But the residents don’t remember they changed it. I don’t like to be negative but, the NMD blows. I see people, all pissed off, driving it in Jeeps. I look at them with the “hey, why don’t you try running it sofa boy” glare. The good news about the SJT50K and the NMD is that it’s only about 2 ½ miles before your off it and to the third aid station which means the majestic Trabuco Trail is about to begin. You’ll be seeing the NMD later.
The Trabuco Trail is built for speed. My legs were done from being a short, fat white guy so I had to roll down. At birth, I was genetically built for speed but the delivering doctor slapped me too hard and gave me crib-knee which turned into play pen tendonitis and then later into hi-chair lactic build up. For normal people, this is the section of course you can make up for lost time. I tried to catch Anne Langstaff but, she was running. I looked like I was playing hopscotch trying to avoid anything that would send a jarring reminder to my quads that I should be lawn bowling. Mike Mazza, my surprise pacer, was running around like the Energizer Bunny, snapping photos and then hopping off. It was anybody’s guess what plant, tree, rock or hole he would pop out of next. He borrowed water from me to clean his hands so, I hid my e-Gel in my socks and told him I was out.
West Horse Thief, if you believe the posted forestry map’s “Difficulty Rating” is a “Moderate” trail. Who works at the Forestry Department? Scott Jurek, Jorge Pacheco, Tom Nielsen? You must be kidding me; 1.7 miles of rocky incline. I’d rather go shoe shopping with my wife. The only saving grace was the cool weather. How much do we have to increase the entry fee to run down West Horse Thief? I’m no civil engineer but, running the top half of the SJT50K in reverses works out to be the same distance. Baz will argue the last miles need to be on fire road for safety reasons. Almost like he’s gonna jump on a scooter and come get you if you trip on The North Main Divide. “Good luck mate, have a Fosters you poor sap.” I’m calli
ng the INS and we’ll see who gets internationally moving.
At the top of West Horse Thief, I spotted an abandoned truck only to discover it was actually the forth aid station. I’ve seen more water in a burning Iraqi oil field but since the next aid station was only a few miles away, I alerted AAA and moved on. How many people passed me on the North Main Divide? It’s hard to say or count that high. The guy in the wheelchair was at least nice enough to yell “on your left porcupine”. I hate to admit it but, Baz scoffed at my pre-race running schedule. He told me I had left something out there in training that wouldn’t return before race day. And, the Australian aborigine was right. That’s hard to say. Baz was right. It just doesn’t sound grammatically correct.
The final three miles of the SJT50K (OK, it was more like 54K) is predominantly downhill. If you have any legs left, that’s a good thing. If the quads are gone, it’s a bad thing. My quads were in Barbados getting an herbal wrap.
In 1967, Barry stepped into the ring of his first professional fight. His muscular opponent sat stoically, staring at Barry in the opposite corner. Barry whispered to his corner man, “this guy is going to kill me.” Always positive, the trainer responded, “don’t worry about the muscles, you’re going to whip him.” The first round was a massacre. Barry got hit so many times, the judges lost count. The bell sounded and staggering to his corner, Barry gasped, “this guy is killing me.” Always positive, the corner replied, “don’t worry Baz, he hasn’t touched you yet.” Baz replied, “if that’s the case then keep an eye on the referee because someone’s beating the shit out of me.” Baz won that fight.
Baz is not a braggadocios guy so most of the new runners don’t know about his life achievements. Baz has completed four 100 mile races (won 1), more than sixty 50 mile races (won a few) and so many 50Ks he can’t remember half. He possesses the coveted Western States belt buckle for completing that debacle in well under 24 hours. An OC endurance pioneer, he single handedly brought ultra running to Orange County in the 1980s. While you and I were listening to Devo, The Go Go’s and The English Beat, Baz was running solo thru the remote trails of Saddleback Mountain; before hydration packs, gels, iPods, technical clothing, Internet porn and decent shoes. If I had to compare Baz to a sports legend it might be Arnold Palmer (with attitude) or Bjorn Borg (with personality). In any respect, Baz had and continues to have a major impact on ultras in this neck of the woods and without him, I’m pretty sure most reading this would have much fewer race choices.
The SJT50K really is a one of a kind course. With the gain/loss at around 12,000, I’m not sure if there is a tougher 50K around. The volunteer squad is a crack staff. The heating lamps and portable massage chairs supplied by Brookstone had all toasty and warm; especially the group heading up the North Main Divide station. I’m not sure who was colder, Jennifer Forman (6:31:55) or her husband who manned the frigid post.
The Big Baz is hosting the Saddleback Marathon & Old Goat 50 Miler on November 10th, 2007. I suggest you register when the opportunity presents itself. If you’re not running, I suggest you come out and meet Mr. Baz Hawley in his natural environment (no, not a bar). Baz is a wealth of information and happily shares his opinions and stories to those truly interested in learning what trail running is really about.
Your health is your wealth,
Big Chaz
Click on the link below to view a short music slideshow with photos provided by the OCTR: http://runner.phanfare.com/album/256138#imageID=15249505
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San Juan Trail 50K
Peeking out the window of my stolen car, it appeared Mother Nature was going to go all ex-wife on race director Baz Hawley for the 2010 San Juan Trail 50 km. Grey and cloudy, there was no way “magical” would be today’s weather word. Scrambling for an extra layer, I was out the door and off for the snake-like drive up Ortega Highway. Navigating Ortega (Interstate 74) is daunting and ample justification for a pre-event DNF. I considered turning around and turning myself in to the authorities, and then it happened. As if in the eye of a hurricane, the clouds lifted, the sun broke through and I was in the dog house for questioning Baz’s ability to control weather. How a man with one stolen sweat top, analog cell phone and a 386 computer conjures up these “magical” days while struggling with a pop-up canopy (no assembly required!) is beyond me.
rock retaining wall to address the competitors. How many times do I have to advise people not to speak while Baz is addressing the crowd? It’s suicide and sure enough, it happened. At this point, the race transitions from “viewer discretion advised” to “adults only, graphic language and potential nudity.”
Back at Blue Jay, you find yourself in the exact spot you started from 2 to 4 hours earlier. If you’re going to DNF, this is one testing point that challenges your commitment to go the distance. Quietly eyeing you, your car beckons with reclining bucket seats, satellite radio and center console spare change. Baz offers words of encouragement like, “Have you ever run before? Better bring extra batteries for the headlamp, mate.” It’s all so motivational and yes, you have to exit the parking lot and start your move up the dreaded North Main Divide and to your eventual death.
irrelevant as your singular focus of reaching the top engulfs your every thought. My heart rate was so above my lactic threshold, I wondered how long it would take an EVAC team to reach me. Nearing the top, I temporarily forgot my name but was thankfully wearing a Road ID: Elliot White (borrowed it from a buddy). Man that thing comes in handy.
North Main Divide, the Trabuco Trail is a welcome slice of heaven. Roughly 3.0 miles long, the trail has three distinct zones that provide every look and feel the Santa Ana Mountains have to offer. The drop-in leads into a lush pine tree forest with a nice gradual decline. The initial singletrack is straight and a good opportunity to make up lost time from the previous climb. About when you start to recover, the track gets technical but the captivating tree canopy mitigates the intensity of the situation. This section reminds me of the “Blair Witch Project.” The trees are thick and tangled while you twist and turn over loose rocks and roots. It’s serene, yet deadly. Take a fall here and good luck getting out. For a second, I mentally drift and start freaking out about how draining it is having three young children. Watching my wife raise them is exhausting. After a long training run, it’s hard to nap through the noise. She should really get some help.
at. Two thousand feet of slippery climb less than two miles is sherpa material. Why horse rustlers used this trail to haul stolen livestock and not the 241 toll road is confusing. I had planned on doing a run-walk up this section but immediately altered that plan to a shuffle-lift-drag. My Garmin’s 20-minute mile was going to be impressive to post. The views down the canyon are spectacular. But who cares? You can’t think of anything aside from “who turned off the oxygen.” Two thirds up the trail, a ground squirrel zipped in front of me. Instead of fearfully diving into a bush, it stopped shy of safety and confidently stared me down. I could read its parasite-infested mind: “I can take this guy.” I thought to myself, if I see a mountain lion I’m going to stick my head in its mouth and call it day.
down this stretch is evangelical and you can bask in the glow of your efforts; you’re going to finish. The view boasts San Clemente, the Pacific Ocean, Hawaii, unending forests, multiple valleys and a million neat things you can’t experience on the Internet. 
Front running in style all day, “How’s my hair?” Dean Dobberteen (4:41:43) would defend his 2009 SJT 50 km title by edging out better-known Brian Krogmann (5:02:54). Gary Harrington (5:13:47) would record third. Girl’s Tesoro High cross-country coach and 1999 Tokyo marathon winner Carey Edge (5:05:26) would earn first female and third overall. Carey is pictured here with, joined-at-the-head, Siamese Twin sister Marisa Willment (6:26:16). Shouldn’t they have the same finishing times? San D
iego Bad Rat Rene Roberts (5:14:19) would “Chick” San Diego 100 RD Scott Mills (5:17:37) with a late downhill running lesson for 2nd female. OC trail newcomer, San Diego Bad Rat and funny gal Angela Shartel (5:21:20) sneaked in third; lots of well groomed rodents this year! The Dean affect.
Confined to a flimsy green wheelchair, Wade Blomgren (5:55:12) would tire torch the technical course only to have Team INKnBURN runner Michelle Barton (5:49:26) sneak up and steal his orange pop with her patented hair diversionary move.
appeared to be one point. Someone please tell Craig that in the ultra world you always go for the two point conversion.
