2003 Massanutten Mountain Trails 100
by Carl E. Camp

My dad (Earley) and I drove down early on Friday morning so that we could drive around and locate the main aid stations where I would have drop bags placed. We found out that there was a trailer available for that evening, so we canceled our hotel reservations and decided to stay at the Skyline Ranch. This would take some stress off from getting to the start in the morning.

The weather was muggy. We had a few thunderstorms as we drove around the mountains, locating Habron Gap, Camp Roosevelt, Gap Creek, and the Visitor Center. Stopped at the Visitor Center and looked at some maps and chatted with the friendly folks there and then returned to the Ranch to finalize drop bag preparations. Got the drop bags ready just in time for the pre-race meeting.

Vicki Kendall got my race packet. We picked-up a few extra MMT shirts. They were nice polyester wicking type shirts that you can run in. Ed Demoney reminded us that we should not sh$# on the trails, and Nick Palazzo said "does everyone understand that!", which caused me to chuckle. We were also reminded that the trails are dangerous, so we should be careful out there. Bonnie Day fell last year and suffered fatal head injuries during the Dogwood 50K. Numbers were drawn out of a bag to give out stuff from the various sponsors, including LED headlamps, Cliff Bars, and such. I won six Cliff Bars. Met Bill LaDieu again ... he knew me from Buzzards Marathon. He informed me that MMT would "kick my ass". That memory would cause me to have a good laugh later in the day during the run.

Got a few hours of sleep from 9 to 11 pm, but then woke-up from the nap, and couldn't sleep again until about 2 am, then woke-up again at 3:30 am. Typical pre-ultra sleep, but I had focused on getting sleep on Wednesday and Thursday, so I was feeling alert.

Prior to the start we went in the clubhouse and took some pictures with various runners. It was a jovial atmosphere. The waiting was finally over, and we were going to do it. For some reason, I could finally relax and start having a good time. Got a picture with John Dodds just before the start. I figured that he had suffered through a couple MMT's, so that would be "good luck".

I was walking next to a guy going down the road in the dark who kept saying "yeah, last one off the road". I figured that I would try to shuffle a bit so that he could be last instead of me. Grabbed a couple cups of water at the first aid station, then headed up the trail. Finally, some nice trail. I was thinking "where's the rocks?". It got light enough that I could shut-off my mini-mag and start using my trekking poles. As I got to the top of the ridge, I discovered what the rocks were going to look like. Yep, these were Massanutten rocks. It was so muggy and foggy that there weren't any views from the ridge. Pine saplings and small soft bushes lined the rocky ridge trail. My trekking poles were getting caught in bushes and rocks. However, the advantages of using the poles, particulary for a Clydesdale runner like me, would outweigh the disdavantages on this course.

It started to rain as we descended the first climb. The trail was rocky and muddy. I slipped and landed on my butt and was fortunate to not hit a rock. Just a nice cold feeling on the backside, but it is never a confidence builder to hit the ground. The trail became runnable as we approached the second aid station at Shawl Gap. Made the cut-off by about 5 minutes. I realized that this was going to be a really tough run just to keep ahead of the cut-off times. Refilled my 70 oz Camelbak and headed down the road toward aid station #3. On the road, I was running behind James Moore when a major thunderstorm started. Thunder and lightning every couple minutes and hard rain. Bright orange flashes on both sides of the woods. I carried my poles since I figured they would be nice lightening rods if they contacted the ground. The road curves around, so I was thinking "as I come around this next bend, I'm going to see James laying on ground". Of course, one always figures the bad news is going to happen to the other guy. James and I got into aid station #3, Veach Gap, about the same time. As we climbed out of Veach, we acknowledged that "this ain't no Umstead". James said, "there are more rocks at Umstead". I said, "yes, but they are much smaller".

Along the ridge going to aid station #4, the trail becomes very treacherous. One false step, and you are falling down the east side of the mountain. I was wondering how anyone could run on these sort of trails. It was taking all my concentration just figuring out where I was going to take my next step next so I wouldn't be killed. However, the sky was clearing and there was a light cool breeze. .I could see the Shenandoah River below in the valley, and the misty mountains in the distance. I thought, "this is why I wanted to do MMT". I was truly happy to be there.

Got to aid station #4 and there was a traffic jam. About six or seven runners at the same time were trying to get their bottles and packs refilled. This was a remotely located aid station on the ridge. I figured that the volunteers had to pack most of the aid to this point. I took more time than I wanted to at this aid station, so I left feeling anxious again about the cut-off time. Coming down off this ridge, the trail was extremely muddy and slippery but I was trying to make-up some time. On some sections, there was a choice, "do I ski down the muddy slope or jump slightly off trail and use those small rocks as ball bearings to roll down the mountain". In some cases, I preferred to roll down the mountain on top of the smaller rocks since I'm not a good skier.

Came down off the mountain onto the road leading into aid station #5. My shoes were covered with mud, so I stopped to soak my feet in a stream and wash off some of the mud. My feet were not happy. That road section going into aid station #5, Habron Gap, seemed to take forever. My legs were tight and I was not moving very smoothly, so I decided to take some ibuprofen, which started to kick-in before I got to #5. I got into Habron about 25 minutes ahead of the cut-off. My dad was there with a chair that he borrowed from another crew. Put on fresh socks, dumped the debris from my shoes, ate some potatoes with salt, and headed out. I had finished about 25 miles of the course in about 6.5 hours and was thinking, "that was much harder than I had thought it would be". However, my feet were happy again, and my energy level was ok, so I started up the climb feeling pretty good. Got to the top of the ridge, and found the most run-able trail of the day. It was cool on the ridge. I was moving well, actually doing some trail running. This was my second highpoint of the day. I was happy again.

Along the lower sections, the trail was covered in three to four inches of water and very sloppy, but it was run-able. I caught up to Susan McCarthy on this section. She asked, "did you find a pizza?" I thought "did they have pizza at that last aid station?". I asked her "what pizza?". She said "did you find a pacer?!". I love that New England accent.

The stream crossings were used to remove the mud from the shoes. The feet were continuously soaked, but if you could keep the mud out that would minimize the abrasion that would cause blisters. This section was very long, so I ran out of fluids about 45 minutes before Camp Roosevelt, and got a bit dehydrated.

As I approached Camp Roosevelt, I saw a person in yellow rain jacket, and she said "there you are!". It was Vicki Kendall. She said "your Dad was worried about you, so I came out here to find you". I thought "why should he be worried. I had a good time on that section". I ran with Vicki into the aid station. When I got there, I was introduced to Leo Lutz, who was going to be my pacer.  He asked "how is the trail?". I said "it is like running in a creek". Leo said "we are going to have fun". I drank a couple cans of Boost, changed socks, and headed out. It must have been the Boost or whatever I ate at the aid station, but I was feeling good.

Indeed, the trail from Camp Roosevelt to Gap Creek was a continuously flowing stream that was gradually uphill. Running in a creek was a good way to describe the trail. Bushes with pink flowers lined this section. The flowers were so beautiful and their fragrance was almost sexy. I was splashing up the stream thinking "this is just like being a kid splashing in puddles in the rain". This was the third really high point of this run. Again I thought "this is why I wanted to do MMT".

My mood would change, however, as I started up the climb and my body temperature rose and I gasped for air. I could see the steam coming off my chest. Near the top, the streams coming down the mountain became steeper, almost like a waterfall. I was thinking "is this the infamous Waterfall Mountain?". Later Leo informed me that Waterfall Mountain was no longer in the course. The rocks seemed more slippery, and the water was flowing more rapidly on this section. I was happy to get to the top, but the trail immediately started down a slippery slope. This was tough downhill running. Near the lower section, the trail changed from a slippery muddy, rocky run, to running in a rocky creek bed. Again, my feet were not happy.

When I got to the Gap Creek aid station, I was greeted by Chris Scott. He said "what do you need?". My brain was frozen since it took so much concentration to get down off the mountain. I just stared at him and couldn't speak. He said "you have to talk to me! What do you need!". Finally, I said "I need to think!".

I went into the aid station, and one of the volunteers said "don't trip over that dog". That dog ran about 35 miles with the front runners. When he got to Gap Creek, they gave him some food, and then he bonked out … what a crazy ultra-dog.

I changed shoes and socks, then ate a grilled cheese and turkey sandwich, and drank some Boost. I asked my dad if he could wash my shoes in the creek so that when I came back to Gap Creek later that night, I could change shoes again. They would be wet, but at least the sand and debris would be removed. I had brought three pairs of shoes for MMT, but that was probably not enough.

I left Gap Creek in much better spirits. My feet were warm and dry, and my energy and concentration level was back. I thought I was about 45 minutes ahead of the cut-off time, and figured that I could make the Visitor's Center. Taking home a visitor’s rock was one of my main goals. I’m told, however, that once you have one rock, you don’t want two.

The climb out of Gap Creek was steep, but I just took it slow, so it didn’t bother me. However, once you get to the ridge the trail becomes very rocky. The rocks started to bother me. I was moving slowly. I looked behind and there was a woman runner approaching, so I decided to try to pick-up the pace and see if I could keep some distance on her. After awhile, she was no longer behind me, but as the trail became rockier, my pace would slow down. I reached one point where I went off trail. I was standing there with rocks all around me, and I didn’t know which direction the trail went. I backtracked to a point where I could find the trail. Eventually, the woman runner passed me very gracefully, and just said "hey there". I couldn’t keep up with her since the trail was very rocky. I admired the way she ran the rocks, but that was only briefly. The rocks were now really starting to bother me, but I told myself, that I just had to be patient. I passed a few logs with "VHTRC" carved into them. I had seen pictures of these logs on the website. I was on the rocks of Kerns Mountain, and I thought, "this is what MMT and VHTRC are about".

Eventually, the rocks would subside. I was able to run down the mountain to the unmanned aid station. I got a bit of water, then headed down the road to the Visitor’s Center. I walked much of the road since I figured that I had made the cut-off for the Visitor’s Center, and needed to conserve my energy for what was to come. Got to the Visitor’s Center about 7:15 p.m., about 45 minutes ahead of the cut-off. Leo was waiting at the entrance to greet me. He said "how did you like that section?" I said, "the rocks sucked". He said, "yeah, I think that section is as bad as Short Mountain". That made me feel good, since I thought, "if I can handle that, then I can handle Short Mountain". Got my headlamp, changed into a long sleeve shirt, and tied a jacket around my waist and headed out for Bird Knob.

The climb up Bird Knob was steeper, and the footing was worse than I had expected. This was a tough climb. We saw the legendary Hans and others coming down the climb as we were going up. Finally got to the top, and the trail became very run-able, so we made good time going into the aid station. Leo was great company. Our spirits were high. The sky was starting to clear, and we were hopeful that the rain and thunderstorms were finished for the evening. A very cheerful crew greeted us at the Bird Knob aid station. At this stage, I was optimistic, but was starting to feel a bit sleepy and my legs were sore. I drank several cups of Coke, refilled my Camelbak, and headed out to the 211 aid station which was about 6 miles away. I was worried about the climb down Bird Knob.

As we started descending Bird Knob, I slipped on a large rock and landed pretty hard on my butt. Ouch. That wasn’t fun. My quads were sore and my feet constantly felt like they were going to slip. It was dark, and getting off these rocks was causing me a great deal of pain in the legs. It was just scary. One false step, and I would crack my skull on a rock. This was the worse descent of the day. I managed to ski the last muddy section coming off Bird Knob back to the intersection, which leads back to the Visitor Center. The section leading to 211 was downhill, but it was difficult to follow the trail since everything was just "pig slop".   David Hughes passed us, but he got a bit off course, so he said "I’ll follow you guys down". I took the lead and tried to get my legs moving, keep my head up so I could locate the course and make-up some time. We eventually got through the quagmire and climbed a steep muddy slope up to the 211 aid station.

At 211 aid station, I was greeted by Quatro Hubbard. He got me several cups of Coke, and some turkey Spam sandwiches, which tasted yummy. I also had a delicious cup of chicken soup with lots of noodles. Quatro is quite a gentleman. Got my Camelbak refilled and headed out. I was about 30 minutes ahead of the cut-off. I was starting to worry if I would be able to keep pace.

The trail from the 211 aid station just climbed and climbed and climbed. I now know what a "relentless climb" means. I tried to walk hard to keep up the pace. Initially, the climb was on nice, relatively dry jeep trail, but eventually, the trail became quite mucky again. The higher we went, the more water there was on the trail. There were several creek crossings. At one point, the trail was up a stream with very fast water rushing down it … "Leo, is this the trail?". This was very tough. At several points, I had to stop and try to find the trail. "does the trail go over those boulders, or does it go up the stream?" At some points, I had to pause to decide where to put my feet. "Should I use that 3" wide log bridge, or just cross the stream that has two feet of water in it". I don’t think Leo was having fun, but he wouldn’t let me know it. We were both just sort of quiet at this stage. Leo did mention that last year, on this section, he was running with Bethany Hunter, and David Horton was pacing her. He said that it was a pain since Horton just wouldn’t stop talking.

Eventually, we got to the top, and I realized that it took a long time to make the climb, so I tried to make up for it on the downhill. My wet feet were now very unhappy with blisters on the balls of my feet. I tried to ignore the pain as I bounced off the rocks on the downhill. Periodically, I would kick a rock and almost fall. My toes were jamming into the front of my shoes, and they were not happy. However, we continued to "crash" the downhill back to the road, which leads back to the Gap Creek Aid Station. Once we got to the road, I was starting to feel really tired. I started to calculate if I was going to make the cut-off. I was not able to run. My feet were on fire. I just shuffled as hard as I could on the road. Leo was just walking easily to keep up with me.

By the time I got to Gap Creek, there were three or four runners that had dropped and were waiting for a ride back to the start. I didn’t want to join them. I had about 20 minutes on the cut-off. Two of the volunteers, don’t know their names, brought my drop bag, got my shoes out that my dad had cleaned, and they were working hard to get me fed, happy, and going again. The younger lady brought me a couple delicious quesadillas and when I stuffed them in my mouth she said, "Yeah baby, that’s what I’m talking about!". She said, "You are going all the way to the finish!!". Michelle Burr said, "once the sun comes up, you will feel greatly rejuvenated". There was no way I was going to be able to drop at this aid station. However, doubts of making the cut-off, particularly making it across Short Mountain, were starting to creep into my head. We left Gap Creek, and Chris Scott said to Leo, "keep him going, don’t let him quit".

The second time making the climb leaving Gap Creek the trail was muddier and softer. I was glad I had my trekking poles. I can’t imagine trying to make the climb without them. It took so much energy to make the climb. I was overheated and breathing hard by the time we got to the top. My legs were like bricks. The descent on the other side seemed like a relentless boulder field. We had left Gap Creek around 1:50 a.m.. If we could have done the 2.8 miles to Moreland in an hour, we would have 30 minutes on the 3:30 a.m. cut-off time, and may have tried to make it across Short Mountain. However, I knew I was not moving at close to 3 mph pace. I was doing about 2 mph pace. Going down the "boulder field", each step was painful and treacherous. This was a very difficult descent, like coming down from Bird Knob. About half way down the descent, I told Leo "I’m finished. When I get to the next aid station, I’m done. I’m just not moving fast enough to make it.". I could do the simple math in my head, and knew that there was no way I was going to get across Short Mountain in 3 hours, and so Moreland was the end of my race. I could feel my body start to "shutdown". I think that once my mind said "it’s over", my body started to quit. I had to psyche myself up to make it off the mountain and get to Moreland. That was a tough final 45 minutes.

One of the volunteers at Moreland said "Congratulations! You had a great run Mr. Camp". This made me feel better. Yes, this was a DNF from one perspective, but from another perspective, Moreland was just the finish line for my 2003 MMT.

We caught a ride with Bill Sublett back to the Ranch. Since Leo and I both couldn’t ride in the cab of the box van, I rode in the back, stretched out on top of three drop bag bins. I must have slept, since we were back at camp before I knew it.

Took a nap, retrieved a drop bag, and then went into the clubhouse where I saw the amazing Bethany Hunter sleeping on the couch, and David Horton was sitting near by. I picked up my Visitor’s Award. On the way out David Horton said to me, "you worked hard for that rock". Yes, indeed.

MMT was the most beautiful, challenging trail run that I have ever experienced. I didn’t have enough to make it to the finish line this year, but I learned a lot about what MMT means. I want to return to run the mountains again. The volunteers and the VHTRC are just wonderful people. Special thanks to Leo and my dad.