On August 13th 2011, I ran the Salt Point Trail Race at Salt Point state park along the Sonoma Coast of Northern California. I ran the race along with a number of my friends and training partners from Fleet Feet Sports of Santa Rosa. I trained over 12 weeks for this event, and finished the rugged 26k course in 3 hours and 35 minutes and change. Post publishing edit: 03:36:03
Salt Point State park is in a no mans land between the Mendocino Coast and the Bay Area. It is not “on the way” to anything unless you are an abalone diver or have a fear of four lane highways. Windy Highway 1 is the sole access to this park famous for its rocky shoreline, rhododendrons and pygmy forest.
It is because of its semi remote location the Fleet Feet Santa Rosa Trail Run Training Group made plans to camp the Friday night before the race at the state park. This allowed us to wake up and not rush in the morning, just a mile or two from the start. At 5:00 pm I arrived at our camp and was greeted by long time training mates, Jeff , Al, Anna, Patrick, Ericka, Jen MC, Jen O, Shelby, Maggie, Lucy, Amy, Kim, Chris, and Tim. Marc Strozyk, who had been our fearless leader head instigator, motivator and coach, over the past twelve weeks had established our campsite as a base of operations. A soon as we had our tent up and dinner finished Marc rustled up a convoy to head to the coast to watch the sun set.
Now since I have been training with Fleet Feet, we have run at Salt Point 3 times. Two were training runs and one race in 2009. Each time we camp the night before and the evening sunset has become a ritual we all look forward to. There is something incredibly comforting as you watch the sun slip below the Pacific ocean horizon. I can honestly say that no two sunsets have been the same. This one was unique in its own right, as the fog bank off the coast gave the yellow orb the appearance of a mushroom cloud before slipping into dusk.
It is at this time that we all hold our support crew close to us and tell them how much we appreciate that they are there to cheer us on. In our group we had my three daughters, a husband, with their infant son, a couple of other kids, boyfriends and girlfriends, as well as training partners who wouldn’t be running the race due to injury. I think our group was responsible for over 75% of the spectators at Saturday’s race.
After heading back to camp in the fading light, most of us retired early to be fresh for the morning. Despite midnight attacks from marauding raccoons through out the night we were all up and having our first cup of coffee by 6:30 am. We convoyed to the parking lot ½ mile from the start and hiked to the registration. More of our fellow runners joined us there who had driven the hour and a half from Santa Rosa, and our loud chatter elicited glances from other runners as we waited to pick up our bibs and shirts.
After a short briefing via bullhorn, all the 11km, 26 km, and 50 km runners started all at once. The start was 200 yards from a right turn on to a narrow single track that wound up the hill to highway 1 and the congestion reduced the line to a walk. We were bumper to bumper all the way to the highway where our procession awakened a wasp or hornets nest, and I felt a sting on the back of my right thigh shortly before crossing the highway.
The pain from the sting distracted me as I ground up the offending insect between my fingers, and followed the runners ahead of me. Once across the highway I thought we were in trouble when the line in front of me headed up the hill instead of heading south parallel to the road. I knew we were in trouble when the trail led us through a surprised camper’s tent site. We turned south looking for a feeder trail to get us back on track but the asphalt pathway took us in a circle away from the correct direction. My heart sunk as I rounded the bend and saw our campsite in the trees ahead.
At this point I decided to head back to where I’d gone off course. I hollered to other team mates to take a left and we were quickly back to the road where I saw Al and Anna Meyers from our group just coming to the turn we had missed.
I hollered to them “Al we are off course!”
He replied back “We’re not! I got ribbons here!”
With their help we got back on course, with about ½ a bonus mile extra and we continued along the marked course. Other members of our team weren’t so lucky. Seven of our people and numerous other runners were stung as well. Doug, who had registered for the 50 k received multiple stings and had to go for medical attention. Twenty or so runners ran an additional two miles before they intersected the correct trail.
The first three miles was a steady climb. The state budget crunch was evident as the trails were overgrown and no down trees had been removed this year. In fact it was a down tree that caused the majority of people to go off course. Never the less, I continued up the long grade, gaining 1000 feet in elevation from the coastline over 3 miles and came out of the trees into a beautiful meadow known as “The Prairie”. We crossed back into the tree cover, and negotiated a rolling terrain until we came out on Kruse Ranch Road. A mile down Kruse Ranch , road, through the Plantation Farm Camp, another half mile to the Stump Beach trail where I refilled my water bottle, and ate a quarter of a PB&J. At that moment, it seemed it was the tastiest thing on earth. Perhaps it was the two mile singletrack back down 1000 feet to the coast, after 6 miles of climbing is coloring my recollection. I ran down a smooth duff covered path through redwoods and madrone trees with gravity pulling me forward and I just had to keep my feet moving. In the back of my mind I thought “better save some legs for the second loop” but the joy of rocketing downhill drew me on.
I crossed the highway and arrived at Stump Beach to see my daughters playing in the sand with friends Adam Schaible and Maggie Allen keeping watch. Maggie shouted encouragement and snapped photos as I negotiated the treacherous cliff, crossed the creek and began the shoreline portion of the course. This part is deceptively treacherous as the trail hugs the cliff edge and undulates along the sandstone that has been sculpted and scoured by wind and water over the centuries. It is easy to take a misstep while admiring the view.
And what a view it was. The day was a clear and sunny 65 degrees F, while the sea breeze kept it relatively cool; it was a warm day for this part of the world usually shrouded in fog.
Because of the wide open coastline, this stretch is mentally difficult because you can see a long way ahead and there is not the feeling that you are making progress fast enough. In addition the rolling terrain makes finding a rhythm difficult at best. Just the promise of another well stocked aid station drew me on.
When I arrived at the aid station, I saw one of our group, Lucy sidelined with an ice pack. Briefly the thought of just continuing 200 yards to the finish flashed through my head but I gritted my teeth and headed for the second loop with the mantra “Let’s Finish this %^&*(&”
On the second loop I walked with purpose for most of the hills. My stung leg was an annoyance but I couldn’t sense any swelling or other problems. Perhaps the antihistamine I took that morning mitigated any symptoms. Besides I had other distractions. My quads were complaining, and my hips were feeling the toll of the terrain. My calves threatened to cramp despite the Endurolytes tablet every 30 minutes the sheer volume of sweat I was producing, coupled with 40 oz of water intake in 2 hours. I was 15 minutes behind my 2009 pace at the start of the second loop and now the only goal was to finish.
The first three miles of the second loop I was solo. It made it hard to spur myself on and easier to walk since no one was watching. My pace wasn’t as steady and determined as I crested out at the prairie for the second time that day, but I knew my last big climb was behind me and I downed my last gel, bit my last electrolyte tab, and washed it down with the last swig of warm water in my bottle with three miles left to go.
I had three runners overtake me along that stretch, and we passed each other a couple times along there. I encountered other runners who cramps had way laid along the trail. These were people I regarded as good runners, and it gave me pause as I pushed the images out of my mind and focused on getting to the finish.
When I hit the coastline trail I didn’t marvel at the views this time….Just the 30 feet in front of me. Because of the nice day, hikers and tourists abounded so I had people to pass on the trail. The walk breaks became more frequent. As I covered the last ½ mile for the third time that day, runners who finished ahead of me and were walking towards me voiced their support. I must have heard “just a little further”, and “good job” a dozen times along that stretch. It was enough to make me kick my pace up a notch to finish at a run, with 3:36:03 on the clock as I ran through the finishing chute.
The nice thing with finishing at the back of the pack is that all your friends are there to greet you at the finish. We all compared wounds and war stories as more of our group came in and I relaxed with a cup of chicken soup and 20 oz of the saltiest sports drink ever. It hit the spot.
We bid farewell to our teammates headed home, and my daughters and I along with fellow runners Jennifer McClendon, Adam Schaible, and their children, went down the coast to Historic Fort Ross. After there we returned to our campsite to spend the night with Marc, Patrick and Ericka. Back in camp we relived the race and relaxed, grateful for the luxury of stretching out instead of being car-bound with tired legs.
After a night without raccoon raids we packed up and headed home happy in the time spent with friends around a campfire and on the trail. It seems as if good friendships are cemented more when you share experiences, and especially shedding blood and sweat together.
. BTW – I thought I was immune to poison oak. After today’s run maybe not. This was definitely one of my favorite runs of all time. Thanks John for the awesome company.
