2018 Pisgah 55.5K/71.6K

Pisgah Productions is a company that primarily puts on mountain bike races in (of course) the Pisgah National Forest. They do, however, have two foot races. One is an adventure race where you are given five checkpoints and its up to you to figure out the fastest way to get to all five. The other race is billed as a 55.5K and its run at the same time and on the same course as a mountain bike race--though the runners start after the bikers.

Doug Thompson had asked me about doing this race several months earlier. The price was $30 (which is like some 5Ks these days) and timing-wise it fit my schedule. I hadn't seen Doug in a while and figured it would be a good chance to catch up. I figured I'd just run with him rather than try to race the event and after the prior week's Pitchell DNF (45 miles) I was not in the mood to race anyway.

Hanging Around the Start/Finish Area Pre-Race

In an ordinary year, the runners start five minutes after the bikers. Swollen creeks and trail issues meant last-minute changes for this year's event. We were going to be bussed to a new starting location that was actually the same spot as aid station three would be later in the race. There were other course changes as well, but this one meant that instead of starting at 10:05 a.m., we started at 10:42 a.m. The only reason I could figure for the late start (meaning why were we starting a race at 10:00 a.m. instead of 7:00 or 8:00) was because they had another, longer race the day before and maybe needed time to recover. When we checked in, we were told about 30 people had signed up for the run, a pretty big increase over prior years. It's mostly a mountain biker event, though their numbers--maybe 50 riders--seemed down from other years' results. A quick headcount on the bus came up with 21 people actually showed up. The weather forecast of a warm day, interrupted by thunderstorms in the later afternoon may have scared some off.

On the ride up to the start, the guy who did the reroutes said he didn't know how much distance the changes might have added but that he thought the course might be easier/faster than the regular course. They gave us each a "cue sheet" which I believe is a mountain bike term, that had the turns on it, but it did not have any distances to the turns. It seemed geared more for locals who knew all the trails and just needed to know where to turn. Again, this is primarily a mountain bike race and we were "along for the ride."

Getting Some Last Minute Instructions

The start was pretty informal as we all made our way down the gravel road. The course is a lollipop route but we would not be starting on the bottom of the "stem" like usual, we were starting about three miles before the end of the loop and would be doing the loop first, then repeating those same three miles before heading down the "stem" to the finish. The runners spread out pretty quickly and we would seldom encounter anyone else during the race. Doug and I settled into his pace and just made our way through the woods. 

The website said the aid stations were about ten miles apart. This was for the regular course, but we figured that essentially meant miles 10, 20, and 30. The site also showed a profile of the course that had the actual distance at 36.6 miles. Having nothing else to go on, we just took those numbers as somewhat accurate for the modified course.

They were not somewhat accurate. Though we didn't have any issues staying on course--the flags were sometimes fairly far apart, but there were seldom intersections and those were well marked--we reached mile 10, 11, and 12 and still had not seen the aid station. We knew it was on a small "detour" section of trail that would take us to a parking lot. Access was pretty limited on this course with the aid stations at some of the few places where the trails met Forest Service Roads. We knew we were on course, but were really beginning to wonder if we had somehow missed that detour section and continued on around the loop without going to the aid station. Finally, around mile 14, we saw someone stationed at the turn who was to direct us toward the aid station. Aid station one came at about mile 14.75. We were not low on water or anything, but it started us wondering if the rest of the course might be longer than planned. The volunteers at the aid station were friendly, but not much help on knowing the distance to the next aid station. Some of their uncertainty was because there was a change in the course between aid stations one and two. We left the aid station believing the next one lay somewhere between ten and fifteen miles away--the best guess we could get from the volunteers.

Through most of the course, the trail varied wildly between gravel road and very technical single track. There were a lot of creek crossings, but only one deep enough to threaten to reach our shorts. When we started the day, Doug had an expected finish time of around nine hours--ten if there were issues. We were already questioning both of those estimates. Beyond the shoe-sucking mud, and creek crossings, there were many times you were simply running in water that was coming down the trail. The heat and humidity were noticeable but not terrible, but that was an issue soon resolved by a thunderstorm that rolled in around 3-4:00 p.m. It was not a "black cloud" storm of fury and you could somewhat see the sun in the distance. The lightning was the flash kind and not the bolts, which made it a little more comforting as we approached a ridgeline as thunder pealed around us.

Aid station 2 came about a mile earlier than expected, at mile 23.5. This station had a little more food than the first had. I grabbed some of the potato chips and Chex mix and Doug had some bacon--even pocketing a piece for the road. We knew we were near but not at the back since we encountered some runners coming toward us when we did the detour to the first aid station. Doug had put a Ziploc drop bag at this station with a soft drink and some ice in it. These volunteers seemed to have a better idea of what we'd face between them and aid station 3. One of them told us we'd be following the road down a very short stretch and then have a six mile section of mostly uphill technical trail, we'd make a left and then have about two miles back down technical trail, pop out on the same Forest Service road we were on now and have a short run to the aid station. We figured ten miles worst case scenario. I clarified and asked him if we "missed" that turn to the trail, we'd be heading straight down the "much easier" gravel road to aid station 3. He laughed and said yes if you "accidentally" miss the turn you'd be taking the direct route. He also added that it was an option if we were running out of gas and just wanted to get done. Tempting as it might be, we wouldn't take that route. We thanked them and headed on.

Looking A Bit Worn From Recent Long Runs

This time, the volunteer was pretty accurate with his estimates. The actual climb was a little more than six miles and the descent was a little more than two miles, but it would end up being about a 9.4 mile section between aid stations. We were at (by my GPS) 32.85 miles. Coming down that last section before the aid station, we got our only view of the day, looking out over forested hills and a cloud blanket below us. We also saw the last of the daylight fade away as we completed our descent. For some reason, I had tossed my headlamp into my car that morning and Doug told me we were required to have it if we reach aid station three after 6:00 p.m. Not knowing what might happen, and having room in my pack, I had it on me, but I had not recharged it since last week's Pitchell, meaning It had been used for maybe seven hours already.

Aid Station three was all but broken down when we arrived. The drop bags were still out but Doug couldn't find his. He didn't have anything of true value in it, but he did have some chocolate milk (on ice) that he was looking forward to. Somewhat dejected, we continued on, turning on our headlamps as we left the aid station. I noticed Doug's was dim when he turned it on. After a couple hundred feet, he commented on it and I looked again and it was completely off. Presuming it to be dead and not thinking to check for loose batteries, we just continued on with only my headlamp. This worked fine on the gravel roads but was more difficult on the single track and even worse on the technical single track.

Doug felt like we had about six miles to go but I was skeptical because I was remembering the map and how long the "stem" of the lollipop course was in relation to the loop. It looked like it was over six miles by itself and we had several miles to go between the aid station and when we got onto the "stem." Though we had run this same section earlier in the day, parts were unfamiliar. It was hard to see the orange flagging with just one headlamp focused on the ground and an occasional mist making visibility a bit worse. The unfamiliarity grew increasingly concerning the further we went. We knew we'd recognize the intersection where, instead of turning left as we had in the morning, we'd go right, but we just seemed to be running much farther to get there than we had earlier. Of course we were moving slower now due to some fatigue and darkness, but where was this intersection and where had all this uphill come from?

We finally reached it and Doug was feeling there were only a few miles left now. I maintained my doubt. On we went. Up and down on more trail. We knew what we had left in terms of turns and roads, just not distance. We reached the gravel road we'd been hoping for since it meant we could move a bit quicker. Our next turn would be at a "horse stable" onto another gravel road. So, down we went. And went. And went. The miles were adding up with no sign of a stable--or any side road--in sight. My headlamp was noticeably dimming and the only other light source we would have if it gave out would be the light on my cell phone. The 12 hour cut off came and went and we were still racking up the miles--albeit slowly. We finally did come to an intersection with another Forest Service Road, but the number didn't match the one we were looking for. I pulled out my cell phone and turned on the GPS to see where we were in relation to Highway 276--the road the finish was on. It showed us in the center of the screen and the highway roughly to our southwest. I looked at the compass on my watch and it indicated that southwest was the direction we had been heading down the gravel road so we continued on. We had been moving only a few minutes when we heard a hum behind us and then saw a light. It was a cyclist. When he got closer, we realized he was the sweep (he had a batch of the orange flags.) Doug told him we might be lost, but he said we were on the correct road and that the horse stables were about 100 yards ahead. Our mileage was already around 41 (though at the time, my GPS had made an error and we thought we were at 44) so we were already about five miles over the distance we thought the course was. He told us it was probably 2-3 miles to Highway 276 and then maybe a half to one mile to the finish. At the pace we'd been maintaining, that could be another hour.

We ran some, though it was not a brisk run and the sweep hung with us. He had a very strong light attached to his bike that more than compensated for Doug's lack of a headlamp and my swiftly-fading light. It was fortunately closer to two miles when we reached Highway 276 and started the home stretch down this deserted strip of asphalt. There was little to see aside from the Pisgah Ranger Station and the bright blue beacon of a Pepsi machine in the picnic shelter behind it. Shortly after passing the Ranger Station, we could see lights in the distance and soon after that we could hear the sound of a cow bell being rung earnestly. We turned off the highway into the start/finish area and shuffled over to the steel finish arch. We were given a Pisgah 55.5K patch for completing the course, despite being roughly two hours over the cutoff. Even better, they had saved us each a veggie burrito. We were both hungry and had been concerned about what might be open in the area at this late hour. We sat and talked with the race director and his crew for a little bit but we needed to start the two hour drive home and they needed to shut down the finish line so we simply thanked them and headed to my car.

There were a lot of drops in the race--one person said half the bikers dropped at the first aid station and we figured that anyone behind us had dropped since we were finishing with the sweep. So that left us in last place--a spot I haven't been since sweeping Peak to Creek Marathon one year. I honestly didn't mind being last or the extra mileage so much as the hour of finishing. Had the race started at 7:00 a.m. instead of 10:42, we'd be finishing around 9:00 p.m. instead of well after midnight. Of course, we'd have gotten up earlier to get there, but this would mean getting home around 3:00 a.m. and a very short night of sleep with Monday being the next day.

Here is a link to my corrected map of the course. I could only correct the sections along the roads since I couldn't follow the trail in the woods.