2016 SRT Run Hike 70 Mile - Race Report

Preface:
The Shawangunk Ridge Trail, or SRT, is a trail connecting the Appalachian Trail in High Point New Jersey, with the Long Path in Finchville NY, and eventually terminating in near the Rosendale trestle in Rosendale NY, some 70+ miles from it's beginning.  The trail race is an unsupported format event put on by Shawangunk Adventures LLC, held in mid-September.  For those that don't know, a minimalist format race is defined as a race with no aid stations and no supplemental course markings.  Months before the event, I spoke with co-race director Todd Jennings about the race which has several options, the longest of which encompasses the entire length of the trail.  I was concerned about the lack of support, but after a short conversation, he had convinced me to sign up for the 70-mile run.

Markers of the SRT and Long Path near Ferguson Road at Roosa Gap

I made this race a top priority of the year, focusing a lot of my training to minimalist-style running.  I prepared by running excessive miles with just a hydration pack, or just a water bottle, sometimes without drinking to recreate the effects of dehydration I knew I would likely experience.  As the event approached I felt my training had gone well and was prepared to tackle the distance.  Several days before the race, all participants received an email from the other RD, Ken Posner, that due to the severely dry conditions, there would be supplemental water jugs at Checkpoints #4, #5, and #6 (miles 52, 59, and 64, respectively).  It also detailed an alternate route off the SRT near in Sam's Point (~mile 45) due to the wildfires which devastated the area that summer.  It was a frustrating circumstance because I hoped I'd be able to compare times to other years, but I knew it must be a necessity.

My mom enjoying the view at High Point Monument before the start of the race

 Before the Race:
I drove up to High Point, New Jersey with Elizabeth to meet my mom, brother, and sister who were going to watch the start.  Elizabeth would reconnect with me the next day, 70+ miles later at the Rosendale tressle (hopefully).  I was the first runner to arrive at the start, so we admired the view from the High Point Monument while waiting for the other participants.  Eventually they began to flood in, most taking a shuttle from the finish to the start line in order to have a vehicle at the finish line.  After a few encouraging words from Ken and Todd, and brief safety talk with the EMS workers, we made our way down to the trail head, tucked a few steps into the woods where it meets the Appalachian Trail.  All the runners gathered around the first trail marker and at exactly 6:30 PM, Ken shouted 'Go', and we began.

Start - Huckleberry Ridge State Forest (Mile 0 - Mile 6):
After the initial climb to the High Point monument I bounced to an early lead.  It was a nice parting gift to see Elizabeth and my family one last time at the High Point monument before we disappeared back into the trail.  I led a group of 4 or 5 runners through a fast first mile, around 9 minutes.  I was bursting with energy, cracking bad ultrarunning jokes and enjoying the trail.  This section is fairly difficult to navigate with several trails interlaced and others veering off.  Our small front group separated from the rest of the field, and ran the next 4-5 miles together (with a few small wrong turns mixed in) as the last glimpses of sunlight faded.  The pack began to spread out as we approached Greenville Turnpike, and I found myself in 3rd/4th place with Alan Davidson entering our first road section.  After approximately 0.6 miles on the road, we entered Huckleberry Ridge State Forest.  Headlamps on, we proceeded into the woods to the cheers of the race directors and other race supporters who had driven to the intersection to see us one last time (though no one from my party was there).

Huckleberry Ridge State Forest - Railroad (Mile 6 - Mile 11):
Entering the forest, it took a few minutes to become fully accustomed to running with the headlamp.  We were trying to maintain the same pace we'd kept in the previous section, but that proved impossible.  Our pack was beginning to string out again as we crossed a small powerline section, a view of Interstate 84 below us.  I went up the next hill hard, remembering a sharp right turn at the top.  After making the turn, I realized I had separated myself from the group.  Watching the headlamps dance below me, I swept across the summit and down the sharp decent to Old Mountain Road.  I entered the road alone (no cheering section this time), and quickly made my way toward Route 6 and the I-84 underpass.  I passed an elderly couple just before the turn onto Route 6, informing them that there were a few other runners coming through.  The smiled and wished me well.  If only they knew the task I had ahead of me, I thought to myself.  Just after passing underneath the highway, I heard a yell from a passing truck.  "RUN FORREST RUN!"  An expression that used to get on my nerves, I found it surprisingly calming.  I was running at a good pace through this road section before entering back into the woods on the other side of Hawthorne Lake.  I opted not to refill my hydration pack here, knowing there was a hidden stream running under the railroad tracks a few miles later.

I stole a quick glance behind me to evaluate my lead, and to my surprise there was no one in site.  For the first time in the race, I was entering the woods completely alone.  It was very unsettling, and kept me alert of everything around me.  That didn't stop me from taking my first spill of the day.  A soft hands-and-knees fall, I collected myself and pressed on, reminding myself it's a long race and I can take my time.  The full moon was playing tricks with my eyes, and when the moonlight streaked through the branches, it looked like someone's headlamp right behind me.  I turned around several times thinking I was being passed, only to find darkness.  I was relieved to arrive at the railroad tracks just as my water reservoir was running low.  I made my way to the other side to a hidden stream I had discovered on a training run.  Bone.  Dry.

Railroad - Checkpoint #1 (Mile 11 - Mile 18):
A wave of panic came over me as I frantically tried to recall the next water source I encountered on my training run.  I could not think of one before the Bashakill River, some 10 miles away.  Frustrated with myself, I hoped back across the tracks and resumed running.  Soon after, a train screamed by, just a couple feet from me.  I wondered if anyone saw me.  It was comforting to know that I wasn't completely cut off from civilization.  I exited the trail to the right, a tough turn to navigate if unfamiliar with the trail.  Another quick glance revealed two flickering headlamps in the distance.  I estimated they were about 10 minutes behind me.  Wasting no time, I charged through the new double wide section.  I intercepted the Long Path and followed it to the left back into the singletrack.  Shortly after I was lucky enough to find a stream with running water.  I filled my hydration pack quickly and pressed on, not wanted the runners chasing me to spot how close I was.  I continued through the night, seeing several glowing eyes just off the trail I went.  Probably just deer, I thought to myself, but unsettling none-the-less.  I hopped across Guymard Turnpike, where the trail travels along an a/v trail alongside the railroad tracks with a barely noticeable ascent.  The trail remains this way for the next 5-6 miles, traveling through a power line section before eventually emerging at Checkpoint #1 at Route 206.  Throughout this section I kept glancing behind, but there was no sign of the headlamps I saw earlier.  I arrived at the checkpoint hoping to see Ken or Todd, but they were elsewhere.  I checked in with the EMS volunteer workers and trekked on across Route 206 and down Otisville Road.

Checkpoint #1 - Bashakill River (Mile 18 - Mile 22):
Prior to the race, I had reviewed the Strava maps of participants from previous years, including that of course record holder Jason Berry.  During my training, I missed an important right turn off Otisville Road that I only noticed after reviewing those maps (there are old trail markers that continue on the road which meet with the trail further down I had taken).  I arrived around 10:00 PM, and though I knew approximately where the turn would be, it was not obviously under the cloak of darkness.  I took out my cell phone and used the trail app Avenza Maps, recommended by the race directors which tracks your location relative to the trail (no service necessary).  It worked exceptionally well throughout the event and at this particular spot, it turned out I was standing a few steps from the turn.  I climbs the steep but short ascent without another racer in sight.  It was exciting to be covering my first new section of trail of the day (night).  The trail zig-zags up Gobblers Knob before a long gradual descent to the Bashakill River below.  After a few wrong turns I emerged onto the road again along the river.

Bashakill River - Checkpoint #2 (Mile 22 - Mile 28):
I stopped to refill my pack and took a short break to eat.  I left with a baggie of bacon in one hand and a coconut granola mix in the other (shredded coconut, granola, raisins, small semi-sweet morsels), both of which worked wonders in providing me with fast calories.  Because the trail was momentarily out of sight, I thought another runner may have passed me while I stopped.  Invigorated by the possibility of losing my lead, I ran steadily alongside the Wurstboro Lakes toward the next checkpoint, hitting 10-minute miles or faster along the way.  I filled my pack again just before crossing under Route 17, knowing there was a long way until the next stream.  There was plenty of wildlife in this section, seeing and hearing several deer, birds, and beavers (luckily no bears).  The miles along the Wurstboro Lakes are flat and straight, making it easy for me to determine I still had the lead.  Shortly after crossing under Route 17, I exited the path, taking a left on South Road heading toward the town of Wurstboro.  I made my biggest navigational error here, not seeing the blaze indicating the right turn onto the D&H Canal.  I lost roughly 10 minutes trying to find the correct way, before finally spotting a blaze on a telephone pole further along.  Upon arriving on Sullivan Street, I took out my phone and called Elizabeth.  It was comforting to hear her voice and rant about the frustrations of the day.  I was overwhelmingly exhausted and at my lowest point thus far.  She reassuringly reminded me that daylight is coming and that I had plenty of time even if I lose the lead.  Feeling exhausted but slightly better, I wished her a good night's sleep and pressed on.  She has been an amazing support system thoughout many races, and this was no exception.  As I slowly approached the turn near Checkpoint #2 a car flew around the bend, only a few feet from my lifeless body.  Adrenaline kicked in, and I reacted with a few choice words and possibly a middle finger or two as he passed.  I was only 20 or 30 feet away from the checkpoint, where Ken and a volunteer were waiting, when the car suddenly came to a screeching halt in the middle of the road.  I was in no mood to have this lunatic terrorize my race, but the effort to walk over to his car and tell him off was not worth the extra mileage on my legs.  Eventually he went on his way as the three of us stared him down.

Checkpoint #2 - Roosa Gap Firetower (Mile 28 - Mile 33):
I spoke with Ken for a few minutes and he informed me I had about a 15 minute lead on Jason and a few others, who had just exited the woods.  He also mentioned that if I finished the next section before 5:00 AM I'd be able to rest in his car until he was able to release me into Sam's Point (though I thought at the time I wouldn't be released until 5:30 AM).  Back into the woods I went, dreading the three difficult climbs that awaited.  The singletrack trail switchbacked up the first ascent, which felt surprisingly good.  My hill preparation served me well, and before I knew it, I was over the first hump.  The 2nd climb is shorter but travels straight up the mountain.  I easily power-hiked up, enjoying a fantastic night view when I arrived at the ridge.  As I moved across the ridge toward the descent I glanced back.  Two headlamps were flickering in the distance.  I couldn't tell if they were on the 1st or 2nd mountain, but I didn't take any chances.  I immediately broke into a fast jog, desperately trying to maintain my lead and stay out of sight.  There was a flowing stream at the bottom of the second climb.  I filled up quickly and pressed on, gearing up for the hardest climb of the section into Roosa Gap.  The section up to Ferguson Road is fairly tame, with a steep technical ascent waiting on the other side.  I made my way across the road, and immediately took a wrong turn up the ascent.  Before I knew it I was in the middle of the brush, and had to retrace my steps to find the correct path.  The saving grace was I found a formidable walking stick which, unbeknown to me, was caked in ash from the wildfires that had decimated the area over the summer.  I walked from Ferguson Road until I reached the peak at the fire tower where I took a quick pit stop to eat and change the batteries in my headlamp.  I also attempted to charge my watch only to find out that the portable battery I brought was out of juice, it must have gotten pressed while in my pack.  My watch would still last several more hours so it didn't bother me too much, but I was disappointed I wouldn't get the full distance of the race on Strava.

View during a training run of the 3 "humps" of the Roosa Gap State Forest and Wurstboro Ridge State Forest

Roosa Gap Firetower - Checkpoint #3 (Mile 33 - Mile 40):
After the short break, I entered new territory on the trail.  My longest training run had brought me to the fire tower, where I took Ferguson Road down to the main road (Route 209) where I was picked up.  I had prepared for this section of trail by reviewing topography maps of the area, and determined there would be one more reasonable ascent before a long 3-4 mile descent ending at Route 52.  The terrain was more-or-less what I expected, mild and runnable, with several long flat sections I was able to jog through.  There were no signs of headlamps in the distance, and the only interruptions were several startled deer that were otherwise enjoying the night air.  I thought about the upcoming checkpoint, and realized that if I got there in nine and a half hours (by 4:00 AM), I would be able to steal a quick nap before the next section.

To briefly touch on the mid race stoppage, my understanding is that due to the permit requirements, runners are not allowed into Sam's Point until 5:00 AM.  Because of this, the race directors stop any runners from entering before that time and hold them there until they are allowed to enter, with the time spent waiting taken off the final finishing time.  This meant that if I were to arrive prior to my competitors, I would have a slight edge in the second half of the race.

The possibility of sleep motivated me to run as often as possible.  Other than a few small climbs and technical parts, I was running the entirety of this section.  Eventually I entered Old Stage road, a double-wide dirt path that constitutes the last couple miles.  A few downhill miles later Ken's car was in sight.  I didn't recognize it at first, and thought it may be a local.  A few cheers from Ken drowned my apprehension and I ran strong into the stop.  Ken immediately had me wash/scrub my shoes to prevent any unwanted species from entering Sam's Point during the next section.  I was already shivering as I entered the car.  The clock read 4:07 AM.

Checkpoint #3 STOP - Checkpoint #3 START (Mile 40 - Mile 40):
I spoke with Ken about the race for a few minutes before trying to take a quick nap.  After several restless minutes lying down, I realized sleep would be futile.  I ate as much as possible knowing that I'd be able to get a headstart on my digestion over the next 45 minutes.  I rearranged my bag as well and chatted with Ken about how the race had panned out.  Before I knew it, two headlamps were bouncing toward the van.  Jason and Marc Mrowka (who had also run the race last year) entered the checkpoint.  I was hoping I'd have a larger lead (it was around 25 minutes) but was not complaining.  The two of them soon joined me in the car was we shared some small talk.  Everyone was extremely tired, myself included, so the conversations were short and quiet.  After a short ride to refill Ken's gas-tank, we make our final arrangements and left together when the clock hit 5:00 AM.

View just before sunrise at Sam's Point

Checkpoint #3 - Checkpoint #4 (Mile 40 - Mile 54*):
My legs ached and my body shivered as the three of us trekked across Route 52 toward the hardest ascent on the course.  I overtook the lead, with Jason following close, and Marc falling a bit behind.  After a mile or so warming up, we arrived at a stream with running water.  Jason and I both stopped to resupply, while Marc arrived just as we were leaving.  That was the last we'd see of him for a while.  We continued up the climb, still climbing hard, but neither of us trying to assert the lead or leave the other person.  Even in a competitive race, teamwork is important.  Finally, after a brutal climb, we arrived at Sam's Point Road.  We took a few minutes to admire the view and sunrise before starting toward the course detour.

Stopped for a quick selfie with course record holder Jason Berry.  I didn't realize my face was covered in ash.

Because of wildfires in the area the past summer, part of the trail was inaccessible for runners.  This section took a bit of orienteering which Jason handled, and successfully brought us through the High Point Trail and eventually back onto the SRT.  We continued around Mud Pond, where I remembered the Muave-colors blazes from the Ellenville Mountain Running Festival.  I didn't realize how close we were to Mud Pond or I may have stopped to refill, but at this point we still had plenty of water anyway so we moved on.  We made our way onto the Castle Point Carriage Road around Mile 52 on the GPS (near the end of my watch's battery life) and nearly made a navigational error by continuing down the road instead of making a right off the carriage road back onto the singletrack.  Jason cited that he made the same mistake last year, and remembered the turn.  Back on track, I was thankful to be running this section with Jason, there were many times I would have needed to dig out my phone for direction, but he was extremely comfortable navigating through the terrain.  Based on Jason's watch, we should have arrived at Checkpoint #4 around this area but thought maybe because we were ahead of record pace, we had beaten the volunteers to the location.  The SRT shares the path with the Rainbow Falls Trail, taking us underneath a beautiful waterfall (though it was only a trickle, I'm told it is much more scenic when there is a heavier flow).  There wasn't enough water for us to refill our packs, but the trail jumps up to the top of the ridge, and we thought was may have better luck above the falls.  We didn't.  Somewhere around this time I injured my knee jumping over a fallen tree and hitting it on a tree stump.  There was blood flowing down my leg but the wound did not appear to be deep.  We pressed on.  After a few miles of dips and climbs we arrived at what we thought was the checkpoint #5!

Another view just before sunrise at Sam's Point

*Jason's GPS measured Checkpoint #4 roughly 59 miles from the start

Checkpoint #4 - Checkpoint #5 (Mile 54 - Mile 59):
Elation quickly turned to misery when we were told this was only checkpoint #4.  I was thankful to have an 'aided' checkpoint, though it was only jugs of water.  I sat, drank and filled my pack, still overwhelmed by the mileage ahead.  My legs and back ached, and my focus was dwindling.  How was I going to be able to maintain this for another 18 miles I thought to myself.  12 miles seemed manageable, 18 was almost a marathon.  Relentless forward progress, I echoed my mantra.  There were a large but finite amount of steps separating me from the finish line, and as long as I kept moving, eventually I would finish.  We thanked the checkpoint volunteer and continued on.  We broke into a small job across Route 44 and continued on and off running for the next several miles.  Anytime we'd pass a group of hikers it would get our hopes up that the next road crossing was near.  We were passed by a 50k runner who had an early start about midway through the segment, and went back and forth with her over the next few miles.  Jason was beginning to have some trouble on the rougher ascents whereas I was struggling more on the descents (unusual for me).  The section was fairly runnable, however we were unable to take advantage and most of our time was spent walking.  We got into a great rhythm on the final descent passing an elderly couple who just smiled as we went by.  If only they knew how far we'd come.

Jason and I at Checkpoint #4 soon after we found out we still had 18 miles to go

Checkpoint #5 - Checkpoint #6 (Mile 59 - Mile 64):
We arrived at the 2nd-to-last checkpoint in good spirits.  Knowing there was only a half-marathon left was encouraging.  We quickly filled up our packs again and moved on to the next section.  To be honest I don't remember a good amount of this portion of the race.  I recall being passed by a few 50k runners who cheered us along as they sped by.  We took comfort in realizing we were still under record pace and only a monumental breakdown would stop us from breaking it.  With about 3 miles left in the section, we decided to start jogging.  Jogging turned into running, and before we knew it, we were flying down the steady decline at roughly 10:00 mile pace.  We smelled the barn, so-to-speak, and were unrelenting until we hit the next road, where we expected the next checkpoint.  I was suffering badly, but determined not to break my cadence I pushed my body hard in order to maintain the pace.  We arrived at the next road crossing to find no sign of the checkpoint.  Frustrated again and exhausted, I sat down on the side of the road.  Jason and a 50k runner were trying to figure out where the trail went and I was absolutely no help.  Another low point.  They found the trail across the road to the right of where we exited, and I slowly began to catch up.  It was too late in the race for me to become separated from Jason.  I caught up with him just before the last hill of the section.  It was short and steep and I ended up a little bit in front of him by the end and pressed on, I didn't want to waste any of small burst of energy I had happened upon.  Across a small field and down the next road, we arrived at the last checkpoint.

Checkpoint #6 - Finish (Mile 64 - Mile 70+):
We were in and out of this checkpoint quickly, the finish line calling to us from the distance.  I was beginning to have some stomach problems here as we ascended through several fields before reentering the woods.  The sun was oppressive as we approached the heat of the day.  Once back into the woods I was still having a hard time, and took some GU and a NUUN tablet which helped calm my stomach.  We were passed by a few other 50k runners who marveled at our task and wished us well.  Their energy was welcomed but in my current state of mind was slightly irritating.  Jason mentioned he didn't recall any difficult hills in this section and, like clockwork, one emerged as soon as the words were uttered.  We climbed slowly, many hikers making way for us as we crept along. We continued to walk after reaching the top.  And walk.  And walk.  The distance seemed endless.  Jason's watch had finally died so we had no way of knowing the remaining distance other than his memory.  We passed over several rock sections and were treated to more extraordinary views.  Then, out of nowhere, Marc came charging through, passing us before we could even comprehend what had happened.

And just like that the race was back on.  Doing a quick calculation, I determined we have at most 5 miles to go, which put him in striking distance of 1st place if I didn't respond (I still had a 25 minute lead on him from the Sam's Point stop, but that would evaporate quickly if I continued my current pace).  I charged forward,  immediately dropping down to a sub-9 minute mile pace chasing him.  I began gaining ground on the next gradual descent.  I didn't let up.  I legs were rejuvenated, and I pushed the pace passing him, and didn't relent until Marc and Jason were no longer in sight.  Then I lost the trail.  I waiting until Marc and another 50k runner caught up and we determined we were still on the correct path.  Marc and I went back and forth at least a dozen times over the next few miles, though at a much calmer pace.  I would open a small lead, then walk, and he would rush past me.  Before he got too far ahead, I'd begin running again, and he would walk.  The pattern persisted over the next 2-3 miles.  At this point there was no sign of Jason, but I was hoping he would come up soon so we could all finish together.  After miles of back-and-forth, Marc mentioned to me that the final footpath to the finish was under a mile away.  Jason had mentioned earlier that once on that final footpath, there was only about a half-mile to the finish line.  Elated, I made my final push, running nonstop until the footpath came into view.  Arriving there felt like being shot out of a cannon.  My stride lengthened, my breathing became smooth and controlled, and my form was fluid.  I soared across the trestle and before I knew it Elizabeth and Crash (my German Shorthaired Pointer) were in sight.  Eyes welling, I began to sprint for the finish line.  I crossed the line in 21:05:00, good enough for 1st place and a new course record.

Post-Race:
Someone kindly lent their chair to me as I collapsed on the ground at the finishing festival.  Soon afterward, Marc arrived, and Jason a few minutes later.  All three of us had bested the previous course record.  It was incredible to speak with them after the race about the high's and low's, and especially the last section, when it was a dogfight to the finish.  I was lucky to claim victory on a day where any one of us could have taken home the famous 1st place Tomahawk.  The race was handled spectacularly but Ken and Todd, who kept the world updated via Facebook of the standings.  It was incredible to share my stories with them as well.  Congratulations to all the 70 mile finishers as well as all those who were in the shorter (relatively speaking) race!

1st Place trophy for the 70-mile division - AWESOME

For those looking to dip their toe in the minimalist format sector, I might suggest starting out with one of their shorter races (as I did at the Ellenville Mountain Running Festival the year before).  For those experienced enough to handle this sort of challenge, and you know who you are, this is a challenging but extremely fun event that will leave you with memories for the rest of your life.  Thank you to Todd, Ken, and all the volunteers who helped put on this incredible event, it was everything I hoped it would be.

70-mile Finisher's Medal

Final Stats:
Distance - Roughly 78 Miles
Time - 21:05:00
Pace - 16:13/mile
Elevation - Roughly 12,500 ft

Other Notable Items:
Shoes - HOKA Stintson 3 ATR
Hydration - 2L reservoir with Sawyer filter attached to hose
Calories Packed - Roughly 6,000

https://www.strava.com/activities/717385815