A Quick Tour of the Salt Flats 100

Typically I would put a considerable amount of time into deciding whether to sign up for a 100-mile race, but, coming off a great race at the Pulse Endurance Runs 48 Hour Runs just 4 weeks ago, I was cautiously optimistic about my recovery and pulled the trigger about two weeks before the race date. I figured that the course at the Salt Flats 100 would cater to the type of training that I’ve done over the winter and spring so far. A flatter course could lead to a fast time and a strong performance if I ran a smart race.  

The trip down to Wendover was relatively uneventful, Sean, Alex, and Alex’s mom Denise picked me up in Twin Falls on the way through town on Thursday and we made it in time for the pre-race meeting in the evening. Alex would wind up running the 50k race on her way to setting a significant PR for the distance. 

Earlier in the week we had received an email from the race director informing us that there was a good chance that we would be on the ‘Alternate Course’, which entailed us NOT running on the salt flats for the first 16 miles because they’d been under water all week - This was confirmed at the meeting. We would be running the first section on a combination of asphalt and dirt road before meeting up with the regular course for the rest of the race.

Sunrise before the start.

It has been a rough season already from a weather standpoint, each of the four ultras I’ve signed up for have been significantly impacted by weather-related incidents. From race cancellations (Wilson Creek Snowmaggedon), to last minute course reroutes (Black Canyon) and even mid-race alterations due to course flooding (Pulse Endurance), this was right in line with how the year seems to be shaping up.

Alex and I getting ready to race. 

On race morning, each of the race distances (50k, 50mi, 100mi) started together just after a spectacular sunrise, I found myself running quicker than I had planned in an attempt to stay warm, the sun was out but the wind was fierce. The first 10 miles breezed by (get it?) and after the first aid station, I was able to settle into a bit more comfortable pace but still fast. The speedsters running the 50k and 50-mile races were well in front of me, and I didn’t know how many 100 milers had taken off with them. At mile 14 I saw the leaders of the 50k race heading back in my direction after their turnaround, one, two, three of them all moving very well. I chatted with a guy who was running his first 50-mile race as we made our way towards the turnaround for their race. The wind was still blowing, but the sun provided some much-appreciated warmth as we moved along. 

By the time I arrived at the third aid station, at mile 22.6, two 50 mile runners had hit their turnaround and were on their way back. I had caught the last glimpse of any runners I would see for several hours. I was now on my own and facing the first climb of the race, Cobb Peak Pass, thankful for a break from all of the fast running on the near pancake flat roads for the first 3+ hours.

Start of the climb up Cobb Peak Pass

The climb up Cobb Peak Pass was steeper than I had expected for a race that boasts a rather tame 5,400 feet of cumulative climbing. Nevertheless, I forged ahead and made good time up and over the top. The smiling faces of the aid station workers met me at the top and informed me that I was in 4th place, about 20 minutes back on third. I refueled quickly and headed down the other side of the pass on my way out to Crater Island.

Cobb Peak Pass descent.

I reached Aid Station 5, Hastings Junction a few minutes after noon, finishing the first 50k in just over 5 hours and was in fairly good spirits. I quickly swapped my handheld out with a pack from my drop bag and headed out onto the island. The next 18 miles would be a large loop over and around Crater Island, the furthest out we would get from civilization that day. My pace had settled to a much more sustainable effort for a race of this nature and I was hitting the first physical rough patch of the day. The trail was a mix of jeep road and two track, but the scenery was incredible, I took some time to enjoy the vast expanse of the salt flats paired with the rolling hills and jagged peaks on the island. A man and his wife in a jeep passed me, and told me that they were having a blast following me around the course - I then remembered having seen the jeep crawling along a few times at various location leading up to this point. They headed up the course and waited at the next aid station to cheer me in - I never caught their names.

Looking down towards the mud flats after mile 40

Leaving the aid station at Mile 40 I had a short descent ahead of me, followed by 9 miles of what the race directors lovingly refer to as the mud flats. Apparently, this was a good year, because it was so dry on this side of the course. Once I got out there I realized why - it was like running on top of pie dough; crispy, flaky, delicious pie dough. Oh sorry, the moon dust and sand seems to have clouded my memory, as this section was easily the most difficult section of the course. Up until now the course markings had been spot on, and route easily discerned with flagging posted every few hundred yards. For probably 7 miles of this section, I saw no flags - it was unnerving, but I never got too worried about getting lost, as the RD’s had repeatedly stated that all we had to do was keep the mud to our right and the island to our left and we couldn’t lose our way. In wet years, this section is known to give runners issues with deep, sticky, foot-sucking mud. I’ll take gale-force winds and dust over that any day. As I got closer to the end of this section, I was able to follow some footprints that eventually led to a series of course markings that led me off of the mud and back up the hill to Hastings Junction to complete my loop.

I hadn’t seen a runner from my race since the first mile when the top three took off at a sub 7-minute pace, but as I came up on the aid station I saw a runner heading down the road just ahead of me. I was surprised to have caught up to someone because I felt that the 18-mile loop I had just completed was much slower than it should have been. I was halfway through the race in just over 9 hours (a new personal best for 50 miles). I sat down and quickly changed my shoes and socks - I had received some sage advice from Sam Collier, who has run this race a few times, to consider keeping a fresh pair of kicks in this drop bag, and boy was I happy to have them. In trekking through the mud flats, I had managed to get a substantial amount of sand and pebbles under my feet. I hurried to get my gear organized and headed out with the third place runner still in my sights.

Over the next 17 miles and three aid stations, I would catch third place three times in an exhausting game of cat-and-mouse. He was running faster than I was on the course, despite me pushing myself down to the 10-minute per mile range, getting to each aid station well ahead of me. But, the time he spent in the aid stations allowed me to arrive at the aid station before he had left, usually with enough time to banter a bit before he would head out a few steps ahead of me. I knew I couldn’t sustain a full on ‘race mode’ for the entire second half of the course, and at some point, one of us would have to give. It turned out to be me.

As I left the mile 67 aid station at 12:15 elapsed race time, within steps of third place and facing a significant climb I conceded, I would have to hike this climb as I could feel the stress and fatigue of chasing this guy compounding. I felt like I was moving well, but my watch said otherwise. I took my time getting to the summit before snapping some pictures of the sun as it prepared to settle on the horizon. I ambled my way back down to the backside of the island and a few more miles along the road to the next aid station snapping pictures of the sunset as I went. I had been warned about how dangerous the tent was at the next aid station is, as the crew that hosts it are famous for coaxing runners into their wall tent and filling them with bacon and pancakes. Actually, that didn’t sound half bad at this point - so when I arrived, I popped in quickly to refuel and grab a snack. As I was munching down on a pancake wrapped around some pieces of bacon, one of the volunteers informed me that I was in third place. Shocked and confused I tried to argue with him as I knew that the two lead runners were hours ahead of me, and the guy in front of me had been there within the last 15 minutes. I looked at the check-sheet, and confirmed their argument; second place had dropped out at the last aid station and in doing so, bumped myself and the rabbit I had been chasing into second and third.  

As I gathered my things and stepped out of the tent, much to my dismay I saw a runner and his pacer heading down the road into the aid station, the time I spent on that last section had allowed him to close the gap to a few hundred yards. With my new knowledge of my third place position, I hurried out of the aid station and headed down the road. I moved very well between mile 74 and 80, partly because I was now being chased, and partly because I knew I’d be picking up my pacer Sean and seeing Cheyenne and the pups at mile 80. It was dark now so on went the headlamp and I forged ahead into the darkness. 

The aid station at mile 80 was within sight for what seemed like an eternity, the lights in the black of night were messing with my depth perception, but I finally made it in. At this point, I was about 30 minutes ahead of my ideal target pace for the race and had gapped the guy in 4^th by a fairly good margin. Cheyenne, Sean, Alex and Alex’s mom Denise were all waiting for me and filled my bottles and chatted with me for a minute, but I wanted to keep moving before it got too cold. The wind was picking back up and the temperature had dropped considerably in the last hour or two. Sean and I rolled out of the aid station right at 10:00 PM, 15 hours in to the race. Even before the smell of Dutch oven cinnamon rolls had disappeared, I regretted not grabbing one before we left.

About two miles past the aid station, we began the last climb of the day. The climb wasn’t incredibly steep, but the accumulated miles and hours had taken their toll. On fresh legs, I should have been able to run the grade, as it was only a few hundred feet per mile, but we settled into as strong of a hike as I could muster and climbed up the long steady hill. It felt like the hill was both longer and steeper than it really was, and after 1,300 feet over nearly 7 miles we came upon the last real aid station of the race. Sean took them up on an offer of a shot of bourbon and I treated myself to a couple slices of cold pizza. We had one short hill to climb before the four-mile descent to the salt flats.

Sean pulled me along and we moved fairly well as we descended back down to the flatland, the lower the elevation got the higher the wind was blowing. By the time we made it to the final 6 miles of sand and salt the wind was absolutely whipping across the desert. A quick stop at mile 96 as we made our final turn yielded me a big hug from Cheyenne before we headed off towards the finish. I quit looking at my watch and relied on Sean to keep me moving, we had employed a run-walk strategy that made the time (and miles) pass relatively quickly. As the finish finally came into view, we wrapped up one more run-walk-run cycle and crossed the line in 19 hours and 31 minutes.

Cheeseball Finish Photo

Overall I am very pleased with how this entire race went, from nutrition and hydration to pacing and time management in aid stations I was able to move efficiently and quickly all day and complete another 100 mile race. This was nearly a 3 and a half hour PR for me at this distance, and coming away with 3^rd place overall was a pretty special experience. The race directors were great and conducted a great race with the help of their excellent volunteers. Thanks to Cheyenne for always being there for me, even if it means leaving straight from work to drive several hours to see me for 2 minutes at mile 80. A big thank you to Sean for coming out to pace me for the last 20 miles, this was my first time with a pacer and it was a big mental boost that late in the race. For everyone who followed along with me as I was out there, thanks for the support and encouragement along the way!

Until next time…