Last week I ran the Tahoe 200, a 200 mile footrace around Lake Tahoe, starting and finishing at Heavenly Stagecoach Lodge near Stateline, Nevada. This year’s route used the out-and-back route because of lingering wildfire damage on some sections of the course. So, no full lake loop this year. I will have to go back in the future to get the full loop experience.

My main goal was to just finish the race, but I also thought it would be cool to finish in under three days. The below paragraphs will detail my experiences from each section, though some areas are a bit fuzzy as the sleep deprivation took a large toll on my memory and consciousness.

1. Start to Armstrong Pass Aid, mile 0 to 16

The race started off with the customary reading of Caballo Blanco’s pledge, with each runner stating,

“If I get lost, hurt, or die, its my own damn fault.”

The beginning of the race consisted of a 1 mile road loop to spread out the field before getting on the steep singletrack to start the climb up Armstrong Pass. I was feeling energetic, with lots of excitement to get started on the long journey ahead. I got into a groove with a handful of other runners as we quickly hiked the uphill section.

About one hour into this section I had an amazing experience. I was trotting along the trail and saw a large downed tree on the side of the trail. As I passed by the tree I saw movement to my left, big movement and very close. I quickly turned and saw a large black bear less than 10 feet from me. It startled me and I startled it. The bear moved a few yards further off the trail to inspect me from a distance. Then two other runners arrived and realized what was going on. We all took a second to admire the bear and then continued on. The bear continued on with his day.

My heart rate was elevated with excitement. I couldn’t believe that I had already had a bear encounter in the first hour of the race. Also, it was the closest I had ever been to a bear in my life. I had seen much smaller black bears on trail in the north Georgia mountains but had never been this close. Amazing.

I continued trotting along the trail, taking in amazing open views of the snow-capped peaks in the distance. We were gradually climbing upwards.

Around mile 11 is when we hit the first snow patch. This was a patch of snow that covered a few yards of trail, which meant digging our shoes and trekking poles in to allow safe passage over the slippery snow. Coming from Santa Barbara, I had not experienced this in the past. I was quite slow getting across the snow patch. There was a lot of these snow patch sections for the next two miles until we reached the top of Armstrong Pass, sitting at about 9,800 feet altitude. This was the high point of the whole course.

From the top of the pass, we descended about 4 miles down to the first aid station. The descent was glorious and flowy. I passed many runners in this section. But in the back of my mind, I knew that every long glorious descent would be a tough, grueling uphill in coming hours.

My experience at the first aid station was great, a volunteer helped me get my drop bags and fill all the water I needed. From that point, I knew the aid stations were going to be top-notch at this race. I did not spend much time at this aid station before getting back out on course and headed toward Housewife hill, the next aid.

2. Armstrong Pass to Housewife Hill, mile 16 to 32

At this point, I was still running most all the flats and downhills and was quickly hiking the uphills. I was well ahead of my intended 3 mph pace. I decided to cool it down a bit so as to conserve some energy.

This section consisted of a short climb for the first couple of miles followed by many miles of flowy fast downhill. I leaned in on the downhills to make progress while I felt good. About three miles out from the aid station I saw another bear. This one was further from the trail, but it decided to trot along with me for a few yards. It kept its gaze on me for what felt like a couple minutes. It was curious.

About one mile from the aid, I felt a couple cramps in my legs. This was concerning. In previous races, I had experienced leg cramps so bad that I could not move my leg. I decided to walk it in to the aid and do a reset. I went straight for the port-a-potty for a much-needed “movement” and then got my drop bag and sat in a chair. A volunteer took my food order, a bacon quesadilla. Another volunteer filled my bottles. I took my time eating and drinking coke at this aid. A fellow runner named Dan was sitting near me. We chatted about our experience.

This aid marked the first turnaround point to go back to Heavenly. After some time, I got out of my chair and started my journey back to the starting line.

3. Housewife Hill to Armstrong Pass, mile 32 to 49

As I left Housewife Hill, I knew this section would be a large net uphill because I had reached the turnaround point and was now retracing my steps back to Heavenly, the starting line. I also knew the sun would set during this section. I got my headlamp and jacket ready. It was going to be a long night.

A couple miles after leaving the aid, I came across an old friend, Brogan, who was still making his way to Housewife (so about 4 miles behind me). We had run trails together several years ago when we both still lived in Georgia. I remember Brogan had an endlessly positive attitude. I was glad to see his face. I had not spoken to him in several years since we both moved to different areas of the US, so it was a surprise to see him at Tahoe 200. Like it was meant to be. His positivity would come in clutch a couple more times in this race, but more on that later.

A couple more miles later, another runner named Steve caught up to me and we started hiking the endless uphill together. We chatted about our lives and kept each others spirits up. We would end up doing most of this section together, about 5 hours, mostly in the dark.

Around mile 40, I had my first mini-puke session. I was running a short downhill and happened to inhale a few gnats. This sent me into a coughing fit, and ultimately triggered my stomach to throw up some orange liquid substance. This was definitely the mandarin-flavor Tailwind I had been drinking all day. Luckily, once the puke got out, my stomach started feeling better.

Steve and I continued on climbing uphill through the dark. As we reached exposed, high ridgelines the wind would grow stronger. I was thankful for my windbreaker jacket. We moved quite efficiently, passing several runners taking breaks on the side of the trail. My spirits were still high at this point. Finally, about 3 miles from the aid, we had finished the climbing for this section. We just had a handful of downhill miles to get us back to Armstrong Pass aid.

At one point, in the dark, we reached a good view point. I looked out on the horizon and saw an orange glow coming from a mountain far off in the distance. Suddenly, a round orb started to rise from the mountain. I realized this was the moonrise. A blood moonrise. It was beautiful and captivating. I had to stop and admire the scene for a few moments. We had reached an amazing vantage point at the perfect time to see the moonrise. Beautiful.

Steve and I continued on downhill to the Armstrong Pass aid, about mile 49, coming in together. We grabbed some chairs by the fire and the volunteers began to help us get food and fill bottles. I quickly got comfortable and realized I was getting sleepy and tired. It would be tough to leave this aid station. Steve ended up leaving before because I was taking too long. Several people we passed ended up passing me again because I was sitting at the fire for so long.

Eventually I pulled myself together, shivering cold, and started my journey to the next aid station, back to the starting line at Heavenly.

4. Armstrong Pass to Heavenly, mile 49 to 63

Starting this section, I knew I had a 4-5 mile climb up Armstrong Pass in the windy, dark night to the high point of the course, about 9,800 feet altitude. At this point, the altitude was effecting me heavily, I had a constant headache and slightly nauseous stomach when climbing uphill. As I climbed uphill, I started feeling worse and worse. I was desperate to see my crew and my wife. I knew I had to keep moving.

I tried to keep a descent pace, but after several uphill miles, it turned to a slow crawl. My heart rate was spiking and my head was throbbing. I began to take 1 minute breaks sitting on rocks. People would pass me and I would fall deeper into depression. The race was getting very real.

All the while suffering, I could see a beautiful line of headlamps miles ahead going up the switchbacks to summit the pass. This would become an interesting recurring juxtaposition throughout the race. A deep suffering in the context of wild beauty.

Finally, I reached the top of the pass. I spotted four headlamps at the top. I was glad to see them, as I remembered from earlier that the next two miles had many snow patches. I would rather have another runner to help me navigate the snow in the dark rather than be alone. The four of us chatted and helped each other though the snow. Once we got through, the group broke up a little as some of us started to run the downhills.

About 6 miles out from the Heavenly, an unfortunate problem occurred. My headlamp began to flicker, indicating it was close to the end of its battery life. I had brought a portable charger for this scenario. I sat down on a rock and pulled out my charger from my pack. At this point, in the cold dark night, my fingers were not working well. I got my headlamp plugged in and attempted to turn it on. Another unfortunate problem – my headlamp would not turn on while being charged. Rookie mistake – I did not test this before race day. Had I known this would be the case, I would have packed two headlamps. I realized I was going to have to use my phone light, as long as it would hold, while my headlamp charged. This was not an ideal scenario. I fell deeper into a depression.

But then, out of the dark, I head a southern voice say,

“Hey man, how’s it going?”

It was Brogan. He had caught up to my slow, depressed ass. I told him what was going on. He said to hop in with him, I could use his light while my headlamp charged. He started hiking at a quick pace. Another runner named Mike caught up to us as well and started hiking with us. With both of their lights, I had enough light to see where I was going.

We power-hiked through the final hours of the night and the sun began to rise in the distance. We were all hiking silently, tired from a full day of running and hiking. We were ready to get back to Heavenly to complete the first of two out-and-backs.

Eventually we made it back to Heavenly, where my crew was waiting and cheering. I gave my wife a big hug. I was so happy to see her. And I was ready for food and a sleep.

Part II coming soon….