I wanted to sit down and recount what happened on my decision to go after the Issaquah Alps 100 mile - Boneyard route - again.
First of all - this route has been on my mind for a long time. When I started planning my first 100 miler in 2017 - I ran across the Boneyard route - but honestly at first it bugged me because despite the name of Issaquah Alps 100 - it actually starts in the foothills of the Cascades on Mailbox Peak and traverses almost 50 miles before it reaches Tiger Mountain - the real start of the Issaquah Alps. So I designed my own route that was all on Tiger, Squak and Cougar Mountain and organized my own support. In May of 2018 I undertook and completed that effort, which is a much easier route than the Boneyard 100. On a whim one Saturday in 2020 I attempted the 50K portion of the Issy Alps 100 Boneyard - but ran out of gas, daylight, and time only completing 27 of the 32 miles. Since then I’ve done a bunch of ultra-ish things and the 100 mile Boneyard route has grown on me as a local challenge to complete.
I tried the route for the first time in April of 2023 and that ended at 50 miles after 24 hours; I’d stubbornly kept the April date on the map and due to heavy deep snow that spring, the difficulty of the route was compounded. After a good training session the summer of 2023, I had completed the Northern Pickets Traverse and the Bear 100 at the end of September. After The Bear - I recovered pretty quickly - my body, feet and most importantly desire to run came back pretty quickly. And I started thinking about the Boneyard 100 mile route again and after discussions with my coach - we decided given that I had the fitness I might as well use it and go for it again some time before the end of the year and before the snow fell.
October was cold and clear, and snow had fallen in the mountains, but towards the end of the month it melted out with warmer temps and rain. I had targeted either November 10th or November 17th; two weeks out the weather looked ok on the 10th, so I put that as my go date. Of course as the date approached the weather began to shift and the forecast was for rain, but the amount of rain per hour was small : “.01 to .05” inches - which is either a very short intense bit of rain or a very light persistent drizzling. So I carried on despite the forecast as weather is always difficult to predict.
I put together a much more realistic set of splits (based on my experience with the Boneyard in April and The Bear) and worked out a plan and set of crew support points.
Now on the other side of “failure” - as I have DNF’d the Issy Alps 100 for the 2nd time I sit down to write up my experience, analyze what went wrong and prepare one more time for another go in 2024. Each time I’ve learned, maybe this one will be the lesson I’ve needed.
First of all the basic preparations : fitness, food, gear and support. As noted my fitness felt pretty good after The Bear, one more big block 2 weeks out set me up for the event. I didn’t feel any fear or worry about my fitness, but as with these ultra things, after a big effort your brain quickly minimizes or forgets the acuteness of the pains of previous attempts; you know they are there, that they will happen again but the strong visceral reality is at bay.
Food - my lessons from The Bear was that of pallet fatigue : I get so sick of the sugary taste of most running energy food - after a while it all tastes the same and it becomes less desirable as time goes on. And secondly I can’t really eat food while I am running, so I learned to stop for brief moments when I needed to do a bit more serious chewing. Lastly - as time goes on I always consumed less of my planned calories per hour and always had plenty left over. Generally I’d make those calories up at aid stations. Sadly though I didn’t really have time due to work and everything else to get many non-sugary / savory options ready for on-the-trail and was left with everything being sugary - mostly I guess because it’s so easy to buy sugar based snacks everywhere you go. I had made my list of wishful savory food and hoped I’d get some at my support points.
Gear - Over the last 6 years I’ve done a LOT of long runs and epics in all kinds of weather and I was prepared for what may come. I had multiple shells for wind/rain protection - the Patagonia Houdini is by far my favorite bit of gear because of the warmth vs weight and size that it offers. For heavier shells I usually use the OR Helium - which is thick enough and just water resistant enough to keep out the majority of the wet. Any jacket heavier usually results in more sweating and being wetter inside than out. This is not true if the rain is truly torrential and is accompanied by wind or temps below 45 but above freezing. Over the years I’ve found what works best for the other usual “little things” that can stop you in your tracks : chaffing, toenails, feet blisters etc. However even the smallest change : a slightly different set of shoes that are the next version, or switching say your compression shorts, or even the type or tightness of your socks can have compounding deleterious effects, as I’d come to find out.
Support - I planned on doing the first 50k by myself, with my first support at Rattlesnake Lake where I’d pick up a pacer (Wright Noel) and we’d cross over Rattlesnake Ridge, cross the river (which I would later dream about the night before) and then onto Tiger - where I (mistakenly it would turn out) would get support at the Tiger Mountain Trailhead off of Highway 18. Those support choices, would have mistakes in them that when combined with the weather and fatigue would in part lead to my DNF.
The night before Wright texted me, and asked a question he has (sadly and the hard way) learned is necessary when through following me into the mountains : “What should I know that I don't know that you should tell me?” This came from when I took him on the Ptarmigan Traverse with Seth, even though he’d never been in crampons before. (To my very small credit we did go out one time beforehand and practice with crampons on Mt. Daniel). I gave him a list of things to prepare for : “it will be wet / rainy - don't wear cotton - bring a "light" rain jacket cause you will sweat - have pack, have water, have a cup, have calories to eat - wear wool socks, your feet will get wet, but will be ok as long as we keep moving, bring a pair of gloves - anti-chaffiing, headlamp, extra battery - poles help - good attitude, cheerful spirit 😊”. That night while sleeping I would remember one more thing : the crossing of the Raging River under Highway 18 - with all the rain - could be a bit spicy - and though I texted him Friday morning - it would be a long day before we’d get there.
I had originally planned to start at 4:30 am - but that means waking up at 3:30 and leaving the house at 4 - and with all the dark of these November days - there was something un-godly about waking up at 3:30 am and so I woke at 4 and Miles and I left the house at 4:30 and I started at Mailbox trailhead just before 5 am.
For some reason I felt pretty awful those first couple of miles but then settled into a steady climb - as the light crossed the sky - I arrived at the summit of Mailbox just before 7am. I made my way back down - not pushing too hard - knowing I had miles and miles to go; at the bottom it was uneventful along the Granite Connector, across the Middle Fork bridge and onto the Old Sitka Spruce trail. I’d forgot that trail has a general upward elevation gain and I should have had my poles out but I persistently pushed on until I connected with the CCC trail - where this time (unlike April) I felt like running and I ran all the way until I saw Blue Gate at Mt Si Road. Sitting on the other side was a white van - as I approached Scott Sowle got out of the van - cheering me for my effort and offering me a warm seat inside the van and a cup of Hot Chocolate. I gladly accepted his offer and chatted for a few minutes before getting up and heading on down the road.
A mile down the road at the Tenerife Road connector (mile 15) - Scott was waiting for me again : “I forgot to tell you man that I am available to help you all day.” I told him that I’d love for him to take my shirt and sleeves - so I could change into a dry shirt I had in my pack and not have to carry wet clothes. (The wetness had a little bit to do with rain but mostly sweat, at this point I only had on the Houdini and it was at best misting and sprinkling off and on.) Scott said sure and asked me if I needed anything else - I said I’d love something at Little Si parking lot - at the end of the 50K : an easy thing would be a Starbucks Double Smoked Bacon sandwich, more difficult would be either ramen broth or miso soup. I quickly headed up to the gate - where I found my calories that Miles had stashed for me in a big tree stump and I carried on up the road and joined up with the trail toward the summit of Tenerife.
The trail has a nice consistent grade up to Kamikaze Falls - which were flowing in full force. I passed a few hikers as I went up and there was a small crowd at the falls that I squoze by for a look at the rushing water before starting up the old trail to the summit. That trail from the falls up is one relentless steep sucker - though I love that first climb up from the falls along and over the ridge and then through the big trees. Then the climb gets long as you keep thinking you should be there but you never really are until you finally pop out on top of Tenerife (mile 19). I summited around 1pm, and the wind was blowing fierce, there was 3-4 inches of snow and I didn’t stay longer than to snap a couple of pics and then quickly duck down into the trees to get out of the wind and make my way back down. I was back on track with my conservative splits - I’d made up for the half an hour late start.
The descent down the normal Tenerife trail is pretty steep and rocky and all that pounding down begins to take a toll on my right ankle (broken - surgery - Jan 2021) - this time I tried to step where there were no rocks, and roll through my step on my right ankle. I think I have grown accustomed to “protecting” my ankle, and I have a tendency to run “flat footed” on the right and I had learned through bio-feedback that after consistent downhill pounding on former outings (Granite to Mailbox Traverse) and last April on this same section of the trail - every footstep on my right ankle has started to hurt. This time by focusing on rolling through each step on my right foot - this seemed to stretch things out and the pain subsided. At the base of Teneriffe I made my way over to the Big Si trail and was glad for the nice gradual consistently graded climb. I arrived at the summit of Mt. Si (mile 27) just before dark with the wind and clouds blowing in. I snapped a photo and then started down the old trail, again the steeper grade once again was pounding on my feet but other than moderating my pace I just keep moving down.
As I headed up to Little Si - I felt the fatigue of the miles and elevation (12K vertical feet) and I started slowing down. I arrived finally at the Little Si parking lot (mile 32) at 7:23 pm about 45 minutes behind my splits. Scott was nowhere to be seen and I started toward the Snoqualmie Valley Trail and Rattlesnake Lake. Last time at this point my feet were sore from the rocky 50K descents, my feet and my ankle both hurt. This time while my feet did feel better, they still hurt and I still really didn't’ feel like running the SVT to the Lake. With very step my feet hurt and I couldn’t muster up a shuffle let alone a run. Those 5 miles are virtually flat and what should have taken me an hour took me 90 minutes because I mostly walked. In hindsight it was a mistake to not have support at Little Si - a change in shoes would have given me a fresh feel in my feet and would have hopefully enabled me to run.
Finally finally finally (9 pm) I arrived at Rattlesnake Lake (mile 37), by this time my teeny headlamp had dimmed down to the lowest setting and my circle of light had grown faint. I had ignored water for this stretch and I was glad to have arrived. Scott was waiting for me at the parking lot in his van - as were Wright and Carol Noel in his truck. By this time the rain had been falling pretty persistently for an hour and my Houdini was soaked. Wright gave me some cold McDonald French Fries (cold because I was late) and I climbed into Scott’s warm van to re-group. Scott heated up a cup of Miso Soup, which tasted amazing! I peeled off my jacket, and my top - and changed into a dry long sleeve Smartwool top, and took off my wet socks and shoes (Nnormal Tomir) - and cleaned and dried off my feet - they were wet and the skin was peeling but no blisters or pain per se. I taped them with KT Tape, put on some dry wool socks and a dry pair of Altra Olympus 5 - I put my wet pack back on and put over it a dry OR Helium jacket, a new headlamp and fresh gloves and I was ready to go.
Scott let us know that 50 mph winds were now forecast for the night and cautioned us to take care. Wright and I set off up the Rattlesnake Ledge trail - thankfully the rain had stopped. My feet felt great in the fresh shoes - they didn’t hurt at all. These were night time miles up a consistent grade over the ridge and we motored along steadily climbing. On the top of the ridge - where the trees are clear cut and the radio towers stand - the wind really started to pick up. By the time we passed the radio towers, the wind was howling. The trees were banging into each other - and the wind whipping through the radio towers sounded like an airplane or freight train. We weren’t cold because we could just zip up the jackets - and there wasn’t any rain falling.
We then descended down toward Highway 18 and Tiger Mountain, and the wind faded with the shelter from the trees and being on the other side of the ridge. We reached the point where the trail crosses a gravel road, hanging a left toward 18 - we were under the giant power lines. The route was to go straight and follow the power lines all the way down - but suddenly the road drops off in a cliff - and here you have to do what I’d done last time in April, take a detour into the woods, bushwhack until you find a narrow trail which very steeply winds down to another road that leads you back to the power lines, where the road continues and you can make your way down the highway.
Just like in April as you approach the road there is still construction that are working on the widening of Highway 18, we picked our way down through dug up dirt and made our way to the Raging River (mile 51). It was 4 am and the river was indeed raging - it looked in places to be more than knee deep, we walked up stream a little bit to where it is wider, the water looks swifter but is more shallow. With a pole in each hand, I locked each foot in front of a rock, one at a time, and when I was solid with one foot, I’d take another step. Soon we were both on the other side, feet wet but we hadn’t been swept away. Another large construction site was on the other side, there were huge halogen lights that brightly lit up the area, there was bulldozing equipment and four very large water tanks. Based on reading and what we saw I am guessing this is part of the design work and National Environmental Policy Act assessment.
I had not been further than this point, since last April I had dropped at highway 18. We followed the track on my phone that meandered through the construction markers until we finally stumbled to the “entrance” down to Deep Creek - which I had completely forgotten about - but which was obvious due to a four foot drop off and a knotted purple rope that hung over the side. We crossed the shallow creek (6-9 inches deep) and on the other side we searched for a trail that would lead us onward. All the obvious paths from where we had crossed lead nowhere. A glance at Strava on my phone showed the heat map of where the route went but it was many 10s of yard “ahead” of where we were and between us and that heat map lay a snarl of bushwhackery that included shrubs, salmon berry bushes, ferns and some insidious plant that has a long thin vines that are full of small thorns, and as you push through them they catch on your legs and rip open scratches. At least they do if you’re wearing shorts with bare legs, like I was and not wearing tights like Wright was. After some very slow painful frustrating wallowing uphill through a thick mass of vegetation - we finally broke out onto the trail and we made our way west toward Tiger Mountain.
Rebecca Mueler had agreed to meet us at Tiger Mountain trail head for support - with some warm food of some sort and resupply of calories and some warm clothes if necessary. Originally based on my splits I’d said 2 am. But as we left Rattlesnake Lake so late I’d texted her and let her know that we’d be much later and I’d let her know when we hit the river, where I’d texted her at 4 am. Around 5 am I texted her we’d be arriving soon at Tiger Mountain trail head off of Highway 18. However - around 5:15 am as we reached the road that followed the power lines adjacent to 18, and I measured the distance to reach the trail head - it was 1.7 miles. I wasn’t at this point going to add another 3.5 miles to my journey. So I told Wright to carry on to Rebecca and that I’d carry on up the road to East Peak and keep going.
As I thanked him for accompanying me and we said our goodbyes. I was feeling fine. Yes we were about 3 hours behind the optimistic conservative splits, but were only about 30 minutes off the expected slow down splits that happen in dark miles of the night when you're tired and the darkness drags you down. So I carried on up the logging road following the circuitous route that made a large climb north before a big left turn and heading west along circumnavigating the lower flank of East Tiger via the NW Timber Trail. The rain started falling with a steady persistent drizzle, it wasn’t a mist, but it was a hard rain - just a persistent drizzle that did not relent and continuously showered me with a low volume of wetness.
I had been tired before during the witching hour (2 am) on Rattlesnake Ridge with Wright. I’d been mildly drowsy off and on and I’d yelled and barked out loud several times to wake myself up and Wright had taken that as a sign to start me talking again to stay awake. The river crossing and the bushwhacking had stimulated me with cold and pain that kept me in an awakened state. However, now alone, in the dark, passing 24 hours on the go, as I plodded along the NW Timber Trail the waves of sleepiness built until due to sleep fatigue I’d find that I had closed my eyes and I’d actually stumble before my foot step would catch myself and I’d jolt back to awake. This startle would keep me awake for only a few seconds and the wave of sleep would wash over me again.
I was SO TIRED but I knew I couldn’t sleep - the rain was still falling and the wind was still blowing - I was soaked inside from sweat and my jacket was keeping most rain off but the wet and cold was seeping through. And I was cold and if I stopped I’d get colder - BUT I was SO TIRED. I finally stopped by a large tree trunk that sheltered me in one direction from most of the wind and rain. I sat down at its base and leaned my back against the tree. I turned off my headlamp and the darkness closed in on me while I hugged my knees and closed my eyes. Was I unconscious for 5 seconds or 5 minutes? My knees jerked open as the weight and gravity of my legs fell and my head jerked forward. Whatever I had gotten in rest was not going to continue, it was futile. I got up. Turned on my headlamp and kept going down the trail.
Finally the NW Timber Trail connected with the boring Main Tiger Mountain road that winds up to the East Summit. Looking back now I realized my mistake - back on the power line road where I’d parted with Wright - I had failed to realize that this juncture was super close to the Tiger Mountain Trailhead where Rebecca was waiting. Due to the circuitous route I had mistaken that we would NOT pass by; even if I had realized I’d had told her arrive too early and we would have had an even later rendezvous. At the time I was unaware of this….
As I continued on up the logging road, the rain kept falling, and the fatigue while not causing me to sleep stumble - did cause me to slow to a plodding to 25-30 minute miles, when I should have been going 15-20 minutes per mile. I reached a point with fatigue - where I was so tired - I cared about nothing other than shuffling forward - everything was too wet and too cold. My fingers and hands were starting to not warm up, even though I had wool gloves on and I had my hands curled up in the sleeves of my jacket. And I could not motivate myself to pull out calories and eat - stopping and regrouping wasn’t a welcome option given how cold and wet everything was - so I just keep going even though nothing was going right to keep me going.
As I monitored my slow progress and realized I was only at mile 60 and nearing East Peak - and with 40 miles to go if I didn’t speed up that I was going to take 20 more hours to finish. With no near term hope of getting aid, a change of clothes, some food and a rest in a warm vehicle and with me getting wetter and colder with each passing mile I began to come to grips that it was time to call it.
Phones with glass screens work poorly in the rain - and I tried using siri to text my coach and ask him if it was ok to quit? I couldn’t get siri to respond and so I called my wife and asked her to have someone come pick me up at Tiger Mountain trail head on highway 18. I looped around the summit of East Mountain and as I headed back down the road I asked a couple of bikers what was the fastest way down (sans bike) to the trail head? They told me just go back down the road and so I shuffled down the exact same road, following the same route down I’d just plodded up. As I shuffled the rain kept falling and my hands kept getting colder bit by bit until I rounded the corner to the trailhead to find Sofi waiting for me in a warm car. I got in shivering, and welcoming the warm air blowing from the heater, she had a warm water bottle for me and a blanket to put over myself. I thanked her and began immediately dozing off and groggily mumbling to her off and on. She asked me if I wanted anything - and I said - yes a Starbucks Double Bacon Sandwich, we picked one up on the way home and I ate it ravenously.
I had ended up with 63.8 miles, 20,774 vertical feet over the course of 29 hours and 9 minutes.
At Home, I crawled out of the car and stripped off my wet gear and clothes and sat on the bench in the shower with my head in my hands as the hot water ran over my body. I felt like I’d been beat up; I wasn’t sad that I’d quit, but I felt very tired but just soaked in the warmth of the shower. I immediately fell into bed and slept for a couple of hours before waking up around 1:30 pm.
Now as of this writing it’s Tuesday, only 3 days later. My legs and feet don’t hurt, I am no longer hobbling, I can walk normally with my right ankle on flat surfaces and up and down stairs. I feel pretty good and I am looking forward to my first 20 minute recovery run tomorrow morning. And I’ve already picked my next date for attempting the Issy Alps 100 - May 31st, 2024.
Here are some mistakes I made and or things I plan on doing differently next time.
major chaffing in the nethers - despite pre-run application of silicone and carrying Squirrels Nut butter with me and applying many times - any time i felt chaffing. I wonder if the compression shorts that I have switched to wearing under my shorts are squeezing everything into too tight proximity and exacerbating friction - while the copious amounts of Squirrels Nut Butter kept at bay it did not seem to really alleviate and I need to reconsider the compression shorts.
Pallet fatigue - this was an issue on the Bear, it was an issue this time as well - I need to do better prep to get something more savory but more liquid like before my next long attempt - food at aid stations helps but I need something in between. Maybe a olive oil / smashed olive paste?
Support at Little Si - I should have had someone there - I should have had warm food and I should have had a change of shoes to help me make my way faster down the flat 5 miles to Rattlesnake Lake.
Rattlesnake Ridge transition off the power line road “cliff” to the power line below. There has got to be a better trail there, and or better mark the transition through the woods to the trail. We didn’t bushwhack that long but it would be good to make a smoother transition there.
Here is a route that goes off to the right : https://www.strava.com/activities/55916380
Deep Creek Bushwack - I need to go back to that point in the “trail” and do some brush clearing and mark the trail better - I wasted at least 30 minutes here.
Support at Tiger Mountain - should have taken it and need to realize the route takes a bit longer with that power line loop.
Sleep - I feel like if I’d been able to take a dirt nap - or a cat nap at a trail head (Say Tiger Mountain) that I’d have been rejuvenated and been able to carry on.
Weather - I have to go in with way more margin in the weather - it is always trick to hit it perfect - clear but not too hot, cool but not raining and snow having melted out and creeks running. Hoping that May 31st gives me that weather - and if it doesn’t I need to pick several other days on which I can start / delay if the weather window is good.
Ankle/feet - last time the 50k - the descent and the rock just really aggravated my ankle and by 50 miles every step hurt - this time was better, but as I wrote I notice that I run to favor my ankle, I don’t roll all the way through my foot - I land kind of stiffish/flat footed - on long efforts I notice how strained my right calf and forefoot is - they are not as strong and thus feel the strain over longer stress/distance. My strategy of trying to roll through my entire right foot more- worked as I could feel it “stretching” out my ankle and it made the ankle pain subside. However I need to keep working on strengthening that right ankle. I need to go back to PT and get some direction. Ideally I can find a specific exercise/focus to do while I run and work that into each run for some duration. I don’t’ tend to be very disciplined about keeping up with PT, but I do keep up with the discipline of running and if I can work it into my runs, and it can become part of how I run it seems like it will be a winning strategy. I have already seen running help remove many of “my issues” that I went to PT for - my left knee used to hurt and I had IT strain, but consistent trail running over variable terrain has over the consistent long term strengthened my legs to where those “PT issues” no longer bother me at all.