2 DNFs in the same month?  Timed-out at this year’s Bighorn.  Even an Olympic-quick kick from the last aid station, wouldn’t have extended today’s trek.  Long by 90 minutes.  Right ankle throbbed, foot now numb.  Whole group of folks waiting for ATVs to haul them outta Cow Camp.  Would walk the last 6 ½ miles with 2 new friends.  No belt buckle today but no fail.  Finished on my own terms.

2:15 alarm.  Morning came early.  Clothes laid out, teeth brushed.  Goodbyes to the front desk clerk, school bus passed on my walk to Holiday Inn.  First stop: Tongue River High School, Dayton WY.  Added 2 busses to our convoy, next up: Jaws Trailhead, Bighorn National Forest (Wyoming’s Rockies).  Nodded off the next hour.  Rocked awake once we hit dirt.  Overcast/pitch dark, bus driver pointed to the trailhead path.  52 mile Start.

Long line of runners, dusky single-track trail.  Eyes ahead, muddled chatter/short conversations between runners.  Jockeyed back-n-forth first mile.  Nervous excitement.  Two runners came ’round thru the grass – was audibly spooked, thought they were moose (big Momma/2 calves delayed us leaving our bus).  Log jam ‘round the first mud hole.  Carefully chose my path, keeping feet dry/shoes clean.  In hindsight, BIG laugh.

Elk Camp, first aid station.  Spring Marsh, our second.  Temps cool, felt GREAT.  8 miles complete; maybe, just maybe [gonna happen].  Weather near perfect, on track with electrolytes, stomach a-ok.  Mind dialed in, pace steady.  All ’bout managing Cutoff.  Schedule seemed aggressively early-stacked.  First drop bag at mile 18.  Hoping at arrive by 9am, full hour ahead.  I’d need those 60 minutes to hit Dry Creek Ridge by 3.

MUD.  Shoe-sucking MUD.  Black sewage-smelling MUD.  River of MUD.  Miles & miles of MUD.

One step forward, half-step back, one step wide, forward & repeat.  Folks that managed best, carried hiking poles.  Elevation map super deceiving; MUD negated any/all DOWNHILL time savings.  SLOW 25-minute pace, worse than a walk.  7 miles between Spring Marsh & Cathedral Rock.  Checked my Garmin, still not there.  Out of fluids.  Ultimately reached the aid station, 2 short miles from Footbridge.  Because of trail conditions, volunteers not able to set up as expected.

DEEP MUD thick over the shoes.  Up past the ankles, Newtons covered.  Wet feet, bulging big toe blister.  I don’t blister, have callused/gnarled runner’s feet.  Body’s never hydrated enough to spare the liquid.  first Drop Bag at the next Aid Station, stay Positive.  Fresh shoes/socks, food.

“20 minutes ‘til cut-off.  Every runner must go by the check-out tent before heading back out.”

20 minutes?  Are you frickin’ kidding me?  Where did the time go?  Arrived at Sally’s Footbridge. Volunteer had my drop bag waiting.   Another volunteer brought water to wash feet.  Medic asked if I needed anything.  “Think I have a large blister.”  Shoe off, foot washed, medic lances the blister, wraps my toe, ready ready to go.  Crazy blur of amazing helpful individuals.  Absolutely WOW’d.  Is this how the Elites feel?  Staggered out/time pushed, swallowed couple strips of ‘drop bag’ turkey bacon.  Emotional roller-coaster, mentally regrouping.  Excited, elevated, confused, disappointed.  Eat.  Swallow.  Breathe.  Need to consume calories or I’ll bonk like Dirty 30.  Breathe.  Ok.  I’m ok.  Fresh shirt, dry feet.  I’m ok.  One foot in front of the other (thanks Sarah).  I’ve got this.

2000ft UP.  Long stretch of MUD, path slick from previous night’s rain/light hail.  Reached for low-hanging limbs, held tight, pulled myself forward.  Now DOWN.  More black sticky MUD.  Used both hands to recover my left shoe, lost in the slew.  Wet sloppy disgusting mess.  This is crazy.  Seemingly impossible, absolutely crazy.

Passed my first 100-mile racer.  Pacer trying to keep her upbeat.  She started the night before, WOW.  I’d see her again later, ATV-carted from Dry Creek.  Slogging, pushing, sliding.  One step forward, slide, reach for foliage, repeat.  MUD, day’s only constant.  Right foot throbbed.  Ankle swelled inside my shoe, loosened the strings.  Didn’t even remember the blister (thanks medic).

Met 2 runners coming my direction, facing me.  Wrong turn taken top of the hill; I looped left, should’ve gone right.  ARGH.  Mud splattered, mentally worn, mind going DARK.  No vehicles, no ATVs, no cell phone, no way out.  Horse-only option for ranger radio’d emergencies.  Never saw a horse, never saw a ranger.  Myth.  Bodies left in the deep woods to decay.  Head demons; they’re real.

8 miles more.  Outta liquids again.  Bear Camp, WHERE are you?  Arrived; refilled both hydration bottles.  Ankle sore/low pulsing throb, but shooting pain gone, foot now numb.  Long day.

Most beautiful stretch of trail ahead.  Green meadow, alpine flowers, minimal mud.  Clouds parted, SUNSHINE.  This WILL NOT break me.  Quiet, digging deep.  Out here by myself.

First signs of life, mile outside Cow Camp.  Human handwriting on a paper sign.  I’m ok.  Steady hop/drag gait.  Ok.  Long step with my left, dragging the dead-weight right.  Mind wandered.  Envisioned myself an amputee, dragging my prosthetic close quick-step behind.

Young girl ran up from Cow Camp.  Did I need anything?  Head shook YES but my mouth provided no words.  Do I need water?  Do I want chips?  Do I want crackers?  Would I like Gatorade?

I stopped, looked UP.  “I want to sit down.”

Cow Camp was like a Civil War field hospital.  Lotta broken soldiers.  Guy laying on the ground, covered with a blanket.  He’s most critical.  When an ATV arrives, he’s first to Dry Creek.  Young girl came by again after her rounds, attending the wounded.  Water & Goldfish [crackers], please.  Do I want a bowl?  Would I like them on a plate?  I just stared.  She returned with a bowl.

2 more runners arrived, Jackson & Missy.  Remembered them from earlier (wrong way UP Mud Hill).  Happy UPBEAT attitudes.  “We’re going on”, they announced.  Girl told them to tell her dad (check-out tent).  I stood up.  “I’m going to Dry Creek.”  We were 3.

Missy was a chatter.  Grew up in Minnesota, married/divorced, has lived in Sheridan 2 years, loves her job, real estate here is too expensive, has a cat, wants a dog, likes to hike, first marathon was Grandma’s (Duluth MN).  Do I talk too much?

I stopped, smiled.  Nope.  Appreciated the companionship, lotta hours alone.  Color back in my cheeks.  NO more MUD.

Awesome end to mentally/physically challenging day.  Walked it out with 2 Boston Marathon qualifiers.  Didn’t medal today, didn’t earn a belt buckle but I also didn’t quit.  Trailhead pose goodbye, Bighorn done/over.  BIG smile.

DNS 2017, DNF 2018…third time a charm?  I’m buying poles 🙂

• 11 ½ hours – most time ever on my feet
• 34 ½ miles – longest distance ever completed