Gore-Tex Transrockies Stage 3 Leadville to Camp Hale

After finishing stage two Annie and I drove into Leadville while the last finishers loaded into the shuttles. This was going to be our first night in the tents… I anticipated the experience with some foreboding. We purchased a tent lamp and self-inflating ground pads from REI before leaving and borrowed a pair of sleeping bags from a friend. The dinner, awards ceremony, and video marked the end of the day. Annie and I walked from the Leadville gym back to tent city and immediately crawled into our bags. I laid awake for what amounted to about five minutes before falling into a coma. Had that lasted the entire night I would have been overjoyed – it didn’t.

I awoke at midnight with a bursting bladder. I was immediately reminded why I had previously concluded that camping is a form of medieval torture. Unlike regular camping where one only need seek the closest tree, I had to find my crocs (problem 1), find my LED headlamp (problem 2), find the damn tent zipper (problem 3), then pick my path trough tent city (problem 4), and lastly, trudge to the porta-potties… No problem except the drawstring on my pants was knotted. Upon returning to my tent – oh oh – which of the 75-80 identical tents was mine? I stumbled around for a few minutes then spotted our doormat – Annie thinks of everything! I was back inside and curled up and asleep in a matter of minutes.

Repeat the previous paragraph at 2:00 am, 4:00 am, and again at 5:30 - except the last time I stayed up! When I told the story to Famous Fred from the Knuckleheads he reminded me that I had mocked him for bringing a pee bottle… I would have had to bring a pee gallon!

I donned the day’s running gear except for the timing chip I had put in a safe place before going to bed. I was on the cusp of panic. The chip was still in its safe place and I had no idea whatsoever where that safe place could be. I reported my dilemna to the timing folks and they were kind enough to issue me another chip without calling me a blockhead… Note: Annie later discovered the chip fastened to the strap of my gear bag… the bag whose entire contents I dumped on the tent floor while looking for the f’ing chip.

We hung around the gym after another wonderful breakfast, only to leave the warmth after the call to start music was played. While in the starting chute several competitors were loudly complaining about the start of the stage. They had apparently scoped it out the previous evening and had concluded it was on concrete for the first six miles. To my recollection and according to the course maps, we would be on the road for less than 2.5 miles, and parts of that road were dirt due to construction. The music blared, the race began and we took off through the streets led by a police car with flashing lights – as if anyone would be on the roads in Leadville at six am.

This stage was our first long run, twenty-four miles, and most of it was above 10,000’. As expected, we left the road at 2.4 miles and began our first climb to 11,000’. Though day two provided spectacular scenery, day three was even better. We arrived at the aid station and discovered Michelle was still there – although she had officially dropped as a team she had recovered sufficiently to run slowly (for her) with another runner whose teammate had also dropped. Although several runners couldn’t finish every stage, the race management to their credit, allowed them to rejoin the race in subsequent stages.

After we left the aid station the course continued at altitude for another five miles, at which time we crossed the highway and began a leg on the Continental Divide Trail. Think PCT only through the Rockies. We meandered through woods and meadows on single tracks, constantly descending until we arrived at the perimeter of Camp Hale, we recrossed route 24 and began four flat boring miles of dirt roads… made more unpleasant by quad runners kicking up dust. Annie met us when we had about a mile to go to the finish..

Later, we learned that the Knuckleheads had seen us and were determined to catch us when we hit the flat. Fortunately we had seen two other runners gaining on us so picked up the pace... I used that stretch to discuss general racing strategy with Doug. When to run hard and when to keep out of view... But, it was for naught as the other runners reeled us in as if we were 'old joggers' (which we were). When they caught us we realized they weren't in the race but were race staff taking the opportunity to get in a few training miles...

We crossed the finish line and I headed straight into the café and lunch… a great casa dia washed down with a Fat Tire Ale. After lunch, I took a shower. I guess I should mention that hot showers were available every day – and not some piddley little canvas enclosure. It was a semi-trailer that had about twenty stainless steel shower stalls, and another eight sinks and mirrors.

After cooling my legs in the stream I went to the tent and laid down… that’s when I felt my first headache and felt a little dizzy. I remembered the last time I had altitude sickness and it wasn’t pretty. All I could think of was how it was going to feel climbing another 11,600’ peak in the morning. At dinner I only picked at a small plate of spaghetti and salad… Annie noticed and asked if I was ill. Just a little dizzy I remarked – followed by an immediate “I’ll be okay in the morning”. Doug asked my opinion about the next stage. “Don’t worry,” I said. “We’ll use it as a recovery day.”