Dan & WV Mountain Trail Runner Volunteers,

Thanks for yet another great time down in your great state on your rocky, muddy and wet beautiful trails and your great Southern hospitality.

I lost my job at JP Morgan in NYC the week before the race and in this market, realized I had to land something as quickly as possible as I’ve read horror stories how people with great credentials have been out of the workforce for many months. I got a call very late Thursday night for an early morning Friday interview, the day I was leaving for the 7 hour car ride down to Davis. So with about 5 hours of sleep I went to NYC for my Friday interview, did the best I could muster and boarded the train back to Jersey and did my best Clark Kent change of attire, packed my trail running gear and left around 2 in the afternoon so we got in really late Friday night and missed the cold micro brews and before I knew it, I was on the bus for HSTR #4.

The race started as usual and on Lehmann time but when we started to attack the muddy trails (after weeks of rain for the entire Mid-Atlantic region), the skies opened up and it got so dark and slippery I had a really difficult time making out the trail, let alone run it and at several spots almost slipped down some of the mountain sides into oblivion. But with everything that had happened during the past several weeks I was really looking forward to this adventure and I wasn’t going to let some rain, mud, rocks, more mud and stinging nettle stop me from unwinding and enjoying myself.

I need to say thanks for trail runner #101 who single handily pulled me out of the raging river crossing using a group human chain to get us across the ragin’ river crossing. I really thought I was headed downstream. I have fallen every year into the same damn spot during the crossing but this year the water was flowing like a good class 2/3 and the rocks did a number on me and I even thought I saw Elvis when I went under the second time. Also thanks to fellow trail ex-Tinton Falls, NJ Marine runner who gave me some Tums on the butt slide adventure although I lost my stomach contents shortly thereafter. It was the grateful act that counted the most and actually I felt much better after the purge.

I truly believe that this trail race is the most fun you can have in the woods with your shorts on. I did land the job and completed the course although quite humbled and can’t wait to be back next year for #5.

Author: Bob Haithcock

BIRTHDAY CHALLENGE RUN

Let me first start off with the fact that I do *not* consider myself a runner.   I’m not fast. I’m certainly not graceful. I’m just an athletic guy who likes a challenge, and enjoys being outside.

I actually stumbled across the Highland Sky race last year, while I was hiking in Dolly Sods, West Virginia. I saw the runners trekking up a long dirt road around “Mile 25” and figured it was the end of a marathon. I specifically remember calling to them “you’re almost there!” and watching them shoot me back questioning looks. When I later learned that the race was actually 40+ miles, I was in awe. I had to give this a try…

When I signed up for this race (which I labeled as a “birthday challenge”), my wife made me promise that I would at least “train” for the race – instead of simply showing up and “seeing what happens.”  Due to my schedule, and reluctance to give up my daily volleyball game, I trained on the weekends, running from our house to Mt. Vernon (and sometimes back.)  Not exactly an ideal training regimen, but it seemed to be better than nothing.   About two months before the Highland Sky race, I entered the DC Marathon as a “practice run” and made it 26.2 miles without falling apart – a good sign.

Flash forward to the morning of the race – I woke up at 4:00am to prepare for the 5:00am bus-ride to the starting line.   I wrote my bib number on my shin in Sharpie, packed my camelback with more gear than I would ever need (i.e. Meds, food, camera, extra iPod, extra headphones, tape, band-aids…  You name it, I had it!), covered myself in sun-block and bug-spray and headed out the door.  The weather report said “Scattered Thunderstorms” throughout the day – not exactly ideal, but it could be worse.

There were about 200 people registered for the race – at 5:00am we climbed into a school bus, and were driven about 20 minutes to the starting line.   From the start, I was a bit intimidated.  Everyone seemed to know what they were doing, how they were planning to run the race, what the trail conditions were like, and when they planned to finish.  People asked me if I had run this race before – when I mentioned this was my first “Ultra,” people were shocked wondering “why in the world I would choose this as my first one?”  (When I mentioned that I hadn’t exactly run a trail-race before, let alone ever “trained” on a trail, their expressions suggested that I was in way in over my head.)

At 6:00am, everyone started to gather up at the “start line.”  For such a momentous occasion, I had envisioned trumpets blaring, a group count-down, or perhaps a starting gun.  No dice!  With minimal fanfare, someone said “Ready….go” and everyone started lumbering forward.  The speedy runners quickly made their way to the front of the pack (a wise move on their part, as the single-track started a few miles into the race), while the remainder of us plodded down the road at a slow and steady pace.   After about two miles on the road, we turned into a field and started making our way into the woods.

This was where the fun started!  Over the next few miles, we climbed up the mountains through single-track trails, filled with prickly nettles on each side.  The pace was slow and comfortable – lots of walking to reserve energy.  We were happily hiking our way up the steep mountain side, when suddenly the sky opened up, and it started dumping rain! This was no gentle summer storm – this was a full-fledged downpour that lasted for hours.  (The kind of storm you respect from inside your living room, glad you aren’t stuck outside.)  Immediately, the trails filled up with rushing water and mud.   Everything and everyone was soaked, and we weren’t more than 5 miles into the race.

Hiking up the first mountain is where I met Lynn, my first “trail guide.”   Lynn kept my head straight, keeping a good pace of walking and running, and chatting to pass the time.  I cannot emphasize enough how wonderful it was to have “company” during the race.

By the time we reached to top of the mountains, the entire trail was flooded.  This resulted in long stretches where you would walk/wade/run through ankle-deep to knee-high muddy water over rocky terrain for what seemed like hundreds of yards.

The second aid station was around mile 10.5.   I had heard about the cut-offs, but based upon the average times from last year, I wasn’t particularly worried.  That was, until a few runners passed me worried about whether they would make it in time.  Suddenly, I started to get very concerned about my pace.  (This would be an ongoing theme until around aid-station 6, when I had made up some significant time.)

The rain was still pouring, and the trail was filling up with water.    We arrived at a stream where the water was waist-high, there was a 4-foot waterfall, and the current was flying.   So I braced myself, waded into the water facing upstream (thank you, survival skills classes), and side-stepped across.  The water was freezing – but felt wonderful on my tired legs.  I quickly grabbed a branch on the other side, helped pull another runner across, and started back on the muddy trail!

I was finally near Aid Station #4 – the one spot where visitors can cheer you on, and where you can grab new gear.   Based upon the wet and rocky conditions, I quickly decided to keep my trail-shoes, and simply change my socks.   As I ran up the road to the station, I saw my wife in the distance cheering me on!  After a few quick pictures, and some encouraging words, Christy helped me to the aid station, where she restocked my food, changed my socks, and helped me get back on the road.

The next stretch of the race contained a 6-mile hill heading straight across the plains – and I mean straight.  Thankfully, I met several runners who were walking the hills and who emphasized my new strategy, “constant unwavering progress.”  (Walking, fine.  Running, even better.  Just keep moving.)  Before I knew it, I was already through Aid Stations 5 & 6, and heading into Dolly Sods.

Dolly Sods was truly as beautiful as I remembered.  Gorgeous landscapes, beautiful trails, and an amazing assortment of wildlife…  It also, however, has wind – constant, unyielding wind.  I’m talking about “you can’t hold a conversation with someone next to you, because the wind is blowing so hard” type wind.   Thankfully (?), the return of ankle-deep water and “shoe-stealing mud” made the wind almost a secondary concern.

Somewhere in Dolly Sods, I met up with Kirstin, who was a wonderful pace-setter, and who kept me company (and educated me on the local flora) for the next several miles.   Kirstin powered through the hills, jumped through the puddles, and kept me running simply to keep her in sight.

Somewhere in Dolly Sods, we climbed through a field of boulders.  I remember reading in the race description there was “exciting boulder-hopping section” and thinking “whoever wrote that description must be crazy.”  I was totally wrong – it was wonderful! After 32 miles, it was an exciting challenge, and certainly one of my favorite parts of the race!

So far, my legs had been pretty solid.  My stomach was faring better than expected (although I really should have tried out some of the gels/blocks/beans beforehand…), and I was still coherent enough to control my iPod.   Suddenly, I hit a long hill heading up one of Canaan’s ski-slopes, and I lost it.   My enthusiasm died, my energy disappeared, and my stomach started acting up.    Thankfully, I spotted Kirstin about 100 yards ahead of me, checking out local flowers growing on the side of the trail.   When I caught up, we slowly made our way up the hill together, stopping every so often to identify a few flowers.  By the time I reached the top, my enthusiasm was recharged, my legs were feeling better, and my stomach had settled.   I didn’t get to thank Kirstin – but she truly kept me sane during that long and painful stretch.

We were finally reaching the final stages!   I had heard about the “butt slide” from prior years, but I had no idea what to expect.  Picture this – a few miles of steep winding downhill trail, where you’d likely use trees and rocks to help control your descent on a dry day.   Now add a few hours of pouring rain, and about 100 people who ran it before you got there – and you get 8 inches of loose mud, and no braking power!   I saw a large group of people ahead of me slowly stepping their way down.  Given my “fresh” new legs, and renewed enthusiasm, I cranked up the volume on my iPod, and charged down the hill! (The one spot in the race where I think I actually passed people.)   The trip down was closer to snowboarding than running – only one hand-plant to keep steady, and I was through the worst of it.   The remaining miles consisted of more deep mud over rolling hills, accompanied by frequent pools of water.  (By this time, my feet had started to bother me – clearly a blister or two was inevitable.  I started intentionally running through the muddy puddles as the cool water made them feel better, albeit briefly.)

Suddenly, I was at Aid Station #8, with only 4.1 miles to go.  Wonderful!…  Except that the majority of the 4.1 miles was on a road.   My legs just couldn’t take running anymore, particularly on the hard surface.  I scampered to a jog in between bouts of walking, but it wasn’t helping my pace.    The last 4.1 miles seemed to last longer than any portion of the race – I had no idea where the finish line was, how far I had gone, or what was coming next.   Thankfully, I just tried to keep pace with the runners ahead of me, and kept making forward progress.   All of a sudden, I’m back on a trail, heading up a hill, and I hear people cheering!  My mood lightens, my legs feel strong, and I muster up the energy to actually run across the finish line!    An amazing finish to a fantastic race!

As a follow up, for people new to Ultras, there are several things that I learned in this wonderful experience.  First, you can not underestimate the value of friends and family, both at the rest stations and on the trail.  Although the conditions made this race challenging, it was the experience of going through this race with others that truly made it memorable.

Second, I packed *way* too much.  I carried a ton of gear on this race, just in case.  Thankfully, the support crews had everything we needed.  Next time, I’m packing much lighter…

Finally, I now understand why people might not recommend Highland Sky as a first Ultra.  This race throws everything at you.   Thankfully, I think it fits me perfectly.  I can’t imagine running 50 miles on a road, or running the same loop over and over.  But put a few boulders, streams and hills in the mix, and the actual distance is secondary to the challenge.  My mind was racing the entire time, simply to keep myself upright.

As for me, I am now taking a break from running.   Thankfully, I escaped without any serious injuries – the worst I got was a sun-burn on the top of my head, and some soreness in my legs and shoulders.   Despite a few inquiries from fellow runners, I have no desire to run a longer race than this – particularly if it is on a road.   That being said, I simply adored this race!  I loved the insanity of the conditions!  (I might actually be upset if it doesn’t rain next year.) Come December, I will certainly be looking to enter my name again.  (If I do, you can bet I’m going to train a bit harder next time… perhaps I’ll even run a practice trail or two beforehand.)

Highlands Sky Race Report

Author: Matt Young

I grew up in WV but it wasn’t until a friend from New York, Garth, told me about the Highlands Sky that I even knew the race existed. I was surprised to find out the start was 100 yards from our family’s camp.

As I looked over the course I recognized most of the trail names; Flat Rock, Roaring Plains, Boars Nest, South Prong, and Bear Rocks.  But while I recognized them I’d never been over all of those trails.  The camp was built by my Granddaddy in the early 60s and has been a family retreat for almost 50 years.  My granddaddy, dad, and uncle Bud had been all over those trails, mostly hunting, for years.  So the race had an immediate appeal to me, accept for the 40 miles of running which sounded impossible.  My granddaddy passed away in 2003 at 92 and but he was still hunting the mountains around camp in his early 80s.  So this race has sentimental value for me because of my granddaddy, my dad, and our family heritage.

I was pretty keyed up and nervous starting a week before the race.  On Wednesday I read I Kings 18:45-46 in the One Year Bible, “So Elijah said, “Go and tell Ahab, “Hitch up your chariot and go down before the rain stops you.”  Meanwhile the sky grew black with clouds, the wind rose, a heavy rain came on and Ahab rode off to Jezreel.  The power of the Lord came upon Elijah and, tucking his cloak into his belt, he ran ahead of Ahab all the way to Jezreel.” 

I’d never realized that Elijah outran a chariot. Pretty impressive.  In addition to being a prophet and a man of God, Elijah may have been the Bible’s first all –star runner.  So I prayed all week for the strength to outrun a chariot.

I set my alarm for 4:45 to make the 6:00 start but I didn’t sleep much. My dad went to the start with me and we left camp about 5:40, put my drop bag in the van and waited just a few minutes for the start.  I met up with Garth and we didn’t really hear the starting gun or horn or whatever it was but everyone took off so we ran too.

Garth and I planned to run the race together for as much as we could.  As we came up on the start of Flatrock Trail and the first aid station just 2.4 miles in to the race I ate my box of raisins and stopped for a quick cup of water.  That little stop separated Garth and I with several people in between us as we hit Flatrock.  So much for our plan. 

Heading up Flatrock I slipped in behind a lady who was running a good pace, and by that I mean slow and steady, which is what I wanted to do.  The Flatrock section of the race is the toughest for me.  Even though it’s early, it’s about a 5 mile climb up the trail to Roaring Plains with switchbacks and some steep sections.   So my goal was to be very, very conservative on Flatrock so I didn’t burn out too early.  At about mile 3 it started to pour the rain which made a slick trail even slicker.  It rained consistently for the next couple of miles and then on and off pretty much for the first 20 miles of the race.  I followed the lady who I could tell was older than me but I didn’t know how much older.  I recognized her later at the awards dinner as the woman who won the Grandmaster division which is for women over 60.  Very impressive. 

Further up Flatrock Garth and I met up again and then went stride for stride as the trail turned on to Roaring Plains, a 3 mile section of trail across the plains of Dolly Sods heading to the next aid station at mile 10.5 .   I’d seen Roaring Plains trail look more like a creek when we’d been up there before so I was anxious to see what it was like after it had been raining on us that morning and pretty much all week long.  It was no different.  Much of the trail was a small stream with water over your ankles and while some of the water was clear most of it was the color of the soil, black. 

Garth and I rolled in to the second aid station after about 2:30 on the trails.  I grabbed a gel for my pocket, ate a cookie and handful of pretzels, and filled my hydration pack to 40 ounces and took off. 

The next section was a short service road leading to Boars Nest Trail and another creek crossing with water well above the knees again.  Boars nest trail is about a 2 mile section downhill and with the rain it was slick.  I was trying to make up a little time on the downhill section but after my second tumble and nearly missing a wipeout I slowed it down again.  We hit the bottom of Boars Nest and started back up South Prong, another 2.5 mile climb back up the mountain to the next aid station at 16 miles.  After that aid station Garth and I were separated again.

The next section of South Prong leading to the road is called ten bridges because there are ten small wooden bridges you cross over the creeks and bog.  The trail is rocky in places and was like a stream in some, just like Roaring Plains.  So it was good to see the road to have some easier running and because the next aid station, our drop bags, and supporters were just ahead waiting for us. 

I saw my dad and Garth’s dad, Ray, as I came in to the station and by this time the heavy rain was over.  I changed my shoes and socks, and took two gels, a box of raisins, two more mini Snickers and a flask of sustained energy with me.  I didn’t waste much time in the aid station but talked with my dad as I left.  He was going to give Ann Marie and the rest of my family an update so they’d know how I was doing and when to expect me at the finish, another 21 miles away. 

So how was I doing?  I told him I was surprised but I felt better than I expected and to look for me at the finish in 5 hours.  But I was behind schedule and new I’d have to adjust my goal to finish later and accept it.  I thought I’d be to aid station 4 between 4:40 and 5 hours but I was rolling out about 5 hours and 10 minutes.  The course conditions had slowed everyone down so I didn’t feel bad. But nothing hurt.  My legs felt fine, my hydration was good and I felt a good energy level.  So to be honest, I was excited to feel this good after the first half.  I said good bye to my dad and it the road. 

As I started running the next 7 miles I realized I felt like I was running with the strength to outrun a chariot. But a chariot could never make it up Flat Rock in the first place.

This section is the road across Dolly Sods also known as the Road Across the Sky. It’s kind of a mixed blessing. It’s a road so you can run easily but it’s still hilly.  It’s bad because there are a couple of sections that you can see a long way ahead of you, somewhere between a mile or mile and a half, which is kind of hard mentally.  I hoped I could carry a 12 minute mile for this section.  I felt good and just ran a good comfortable pace for 95% of it including the hills. I rolled in aid station 5 at Bear Rocks and mile 27 in 6:25 so it took me less than 1:15, a 10:40 pace and ahead of my plan.  But I needed to make up time so I was pleased. However, after 27 miles I felt like I might be losing it a little.  The next aid station was another 6 miles so I put another 40 ounces in my hydration pack, put a gel in my pocket, ate some pretzels and a piece of pb&J and moved on.

The trailing going from Bear Rocks across the high meadows was beautiful and mostly runnable.  It also had great views and so I picked my head up to look around and take it in. I could see a good section of trail behind me and ahead of me and there was no one in sight. I ran the last 20 miles by myself.  At about mile 28 after my dry shoes and socks were soaked again my left little toe was stinging with a blister so I had to stop and take care of it with a bandaid.  The time lost was well worth it for the comfort over 12 miles. 

I moved along running where I could, walking where I had too, and covered the ground fairly quickly.  The boulders section wasn’t nearly as bad as I expected after I’d heard so much about it. I always like it when things aren’t as bad as expected.  I got to aid station 6 on the tail of a couple guys running together and there was one more already there. I refilled, ate something but I’m not sure what, and left ahead of the others.  I thought I’d over heard one of the volunteers say there 80 runners already through but couldn’t be sure and didn’t want to ask.

The next aid station was 4 miles away so I was about 8 miles from the finish and still feeling good.  So thinking back to mile 27 when I wondered if I was fading, I think I was mentally tired of the road because once I got back on the trail I felt good again.  I have a little test I use while I’m out there to see if I’m close to a crash where I recite a verse I’ve prayed for my daughter for over two years, Colossians 1:9-14, which takes a minute or two to recite. I know if I can remember it then I’m fine. If I lose track of the words I’m in trouble. Throughout the race I’d recite it again and again just to test myself and I never messed it up.

The next four miles were kind of blur. I remember hitting Timberline and the climb up the ski slope.  Then I hit what I knew had to be the butt slide but I chose to go down on my feet grabbing trees and saplings where I needed to just to slow down.  At the bottom the trail was wet red clay which was just as slick and finally a service road which lead to Freeland Road and the next and LAST aid station. 

I grabbed a gel for insurance and a quick swig of water and took off on the last 4 mile section to the finish.  This section was ¾ road and pretty level except for one short steep hill so I wanted to run as much as I could.  This was another section that you could see runners ahead and every one I could see was walking which makes it very tempting to walk too. But I wanted to run to the finish so I did.  I hit the entrance of the park expecting to see my brother and he was there. He was the scout to tell the rest of family when I was coming.  I was happy to see him and relieved to know I’d covered 38 miles and only had two more to go. It also reminded me that my whole family; Ann Marie, Caroline, Dad, Mom, Liz, Matthew, Jonathan and Wendy, would be there.  I got a little emotional.

I kept running and felt like I was holding a good pace. I hit the last section of trail which leads to the finish and passed a couple of guys walking who teased me a little for still running. Kind of funny.  Honestly, the runners you meet are great people and are all very supportive of each other on the course.

After walking the last hill coming up to the finish I could see my Dad who was watching for me to warn everyone else I was coming.  When I saw him and all of the other families and supporters clapping and cheering as I came through I felt like champ.  I ran the last downhill to the finish and could hear my family then saw Ann Marie and Caroline on the right side of the finish line.  I hugged them and cried. What a relief to be done and what a feeling to finish something after 2 years in the making.

I could try to describe it but I haven’t quite figured it out yet.  You don’t have to believe me but all I can say is I loved it.  Looking back I loved it all; the hills, the shoe sucking mud, the creek where the trail was supposed to be, the rain, and the headwinds. I loved the view from Boars Nest across the valley, crossing Flat Rock Stream, South Prong Stream (twice), Ten Bridges, Bear Rocks, and the high meadows. I knew Grandaddy would be laughing and would be proud of me. I knew the rest of my family was proud of me.  I thanked the Lord for all of the good things in the day. 

So by the numbers I covered 40.8 miles in 9:47:44 and was 79^th out of 200 starters.  The first half was 5:10 and the second half was 4:37 for an average pace of 14:12.  Best lap was 8:15 (mile 2) and the slowest lap 20:19 (mile 15).  I burnt 5500 calories with an average heart rate of 75% of max and the highest bpm of 177.  The last 4 miles were 10:50, 11:44, 9:42 and 12:33.  The winner finished in 6:37 which is inconceivable to me.

Thanks to my whole family for being at the finish. I was looking forward to seeing them for many miles and it was a nice motivation to keep running.

A special thanks to Dan Lehman and WVMTR for the awesome race.  Dan serves his fellow runners well and makes a lot of things happen that the rest of us enjoy. Thanks, Dan.  And thank you to the volunteers who give up a weekend for others.  We all know we wouldn’t have races without you.

And thank you to my wife, Ann Marie, who understands me and gave constant support throughout the months of training and the race.  She’s always very good to me. I think she summed it up best when she said, “there will never be another race that means so much to you on so many levels.”  Thank you, Sweetheart. 

Check out other race reports which are shorter ;  )  but very good.  I thought this one was great by Sophie Speidel

Thanks for reading.

Matt Young

With my girls at the finish.  That’s the winner sitting on the cooler behind us. I think he’d already been to dinner and a movie.