COCODONA 250 (DNF) – Arizona (May 1-6, 2023)

Strava link: https://www.strava.com/activities/9007463278
Race website: https://cocodona.com/about/ & https://cocodona.com/course250/

The Cocodona 250 is an ultramarathon covering diverse Arizona landscapes between Black Canyon City and Flagstaff. The course winds through the Sonoran desert, runs the length of the Bradshaw Mountains, passes through historical mining towns, takes participants along the red rock formations of the Sedona area, and closes out in the ponderosa pine forests and a climb up Mount Elden before ending at Heritage Square in downtown Flagstaff. The challenge and scenery captured my fascination when I saw runners cross the finish line at the inaugural event in 2021, when I just happened to be staying in Flagstaff on my way to complete rim-to-rim-to-rim at the Grand Canyon. Watching the Inaugural Year film and then the live coverage of the 2022 race solidified my desire to take this one on. I registered in mid-July of 2022 for the 2023 event, which was held from May 1-6. Runners get 125 hours to run the 250 miles. It is a continuous race (not a stage race), so the clock is always ticking and runners use their own discretion on when to figure in time to sleep. Crew are allowed, but there’s only one crew-accessible aid station in the first 72 miles of the event. After that crew access was good and pacers are allowed from mile 72 through the end of the race.

Bottom Line Up Front: I DNF’d (did not finish) at mile 138. Despite failing to complete the race, this was an amazing adventure that I’ll remember forever, and I learned so much. I also set new personal records for longest run (138 miles), most elevation gain (23,714′ climbed), and duration (66 hours and 52 minutes). And most of that was on pretty rugged terrain (tons of sand and rocks, and a few water crossings). So, I’m proud of what I accomplished while simultaneously disappointed that I failed to finish the whole race. So what went wrong? Ultimately, it was the combination of ankle tendon pain and sleep deprivation that slowed my pace down to the point that I was chasing intermediate cutoffs until I ran out of time to continue to the next checkpoint. I turned in my SPOT tracker and bowed out at the Dead Horse Ranch aid station, and my 2023 Cocodona 250 adventure was over.

THANK YOU!

Before I get into the full recap, I want to acknowledge my amazing friends for taking time out of their lives (and traveling to the course) in order to crew and pace me. Stephanie – thank you so much for being there the entire time and for being a super helpful and perfect crew chief and also for pacing me from Mingus Mountain to Jerome! Kara – thank you for sharing some tough miles with me, from Prescott through the Granite Dells, across those cattle ranches in the dark, and up Mingus Mountain! Sara – thank you for getting me back on course when I followed the wrong route, and for keeping me awake during some of my lowest, most exhausted night miles with your stories, music, and epic dance moves! And Brittany, thank you so much for also agreeing to help pace despite me not getting far enough in the race!

TRAINING

What did my training look like?

I’ve been running 1,000+ miles per year (about 1,500 mile average) since 2018 so I’ve built up a long-term endurance base. I ran two Arizona races as “tune-ups” in the months leading up to Cocodona, including Javelina Jundred in October 2022 and Black Canyon Ultras 100K in February 2023. I ran an average of 50/miles per week (ranging from 40-75 mile/week) in the five months leading up to the race, aside from some low mileage weeks in February due to catching a nasty cold and moving into a new apartment. As a runner training through a Michigan winter, I also completed (and quite enjoyed) a series of sauna sessions in the couple weeks before the event to help acclimate to the heat. I think the volume of time and miles was sufficient to complete Cocodona 250. Post-race, the tweak I would make would be to add more hill training as well as strength training to build up strength and stability in my ankles and Achilles tendons. I left the race with plenty of gas left in the tank, in terms of major muscle groups and overall energy levels. I ran and hiked almost 150 miles in the three weeks following Cocodona so obviously I didn’t completely deplete myself with the effort. It’s disappointing to feel like I didn’t give it my all, but in the moment at the race my ankle pain and sleep deprived status severely limited my pace and ultimately costed a finish.

I also spent a lot of time reviewing the runner’s guide and section descriptions and plotting out a pacing chart which I never looked at while I was on the course. But it helped me mentally prepare for the race, and hopefully serve as a useful tool for my crew/pacer team.

COCODONA 250 – 2023 EDITION (MAY 1-6, 2023)

I flew to Phoenix from Michigan early on Friday, April 28. I tapered (full rest days) the week leading up to the race except I planned to meet up with Brittany for an “easy hike” to shake out my legs after travel. We ended up doing a 10K hike/run with 1,600′ gain in the Superstitions. It was a really fun runsploration, it didn’t feel like too much, and I was happy about how little the 99 degree heat and direct sun affected me.

I spent the rest of Friday and most of Saturday and Sunday resting at the hotel room and carb loading at Waffle House (and other restaurants), aside from shopping for last-minute nutrition and race kit stuff and picking up my packet Sunday afternoon at the start line (photo below). I met up with Stephanie Sunday evening to hand off my stuff so she’d have it while she crewed me.

The race began at 5am on Monday, May 1. I arrived about an hour early to pick up my SPOT tracker and drink some coffee. Stephanie met me there to cheer me off from the start and to take photos and video.

The eastern sky was getting lighter as we were about to start so I didn’t wear a headlamp. Other runners had theirs on and there was enough ambient light that I didn’t need it. The trail is narrow and congested and I marched in single file for the first two miles. By then, the sun had risen. After crossing the river the participants were spreading out more so it was easier to pace myself. I hiked up all the hills and jogged the flats and descents.

The first eight miles of the Cocodona course were familiar, as it overlaps miles 37-45 of the Black Canyon 100K that I finished in February. That put an unavoidable crossing of the Agua Fria River at mile 2. Some runners removed their shoes and socks, or crossed and then put on dry socks, or wore plastic garbage bags to keep their feet dry. I opted to charge across the river, letting my feet get wet, and continuing on. This was the only crossing where I couldn’t avoid getting wet feet and my strategy was to just let the heat and desert air dry them out on the go. I had slathered Vaseline on my feet before starting and that kept my feet from getting waterlogged or blistering. No regrets with that decision; I did not develop any issues from having wet feet.

After the river crossing the Cocodona course climbs. A lot. Over 10,000′ of gain, up sandy and sometimes technical/very rocky trail, in the full heat of the Arizona sun and with almost zero shade along the way. This is the crux of the race, and comes with requirement to carry at least 4 liters of water. Additionally, there is only one aid station at mile 11, between the start line and Lane Mountain A.S. at mile 33. That also means carrying many hours of nutrition, and that makes for a heavy pack, but it was all necessary. Even with 4L of water, I had to top off at the remote water drops. I passed a few runners that were having issues with heat exhaustion. I’m sure the sauna prep had a positive impact, but I also managed the heat on the course by not pushing too hard on day 1 and by splashing water all over my long-sleeve sun shirt at every opportunity. Even from scuzzy, algae-filled mud puddles. The evaporative cooling was worth it.

At the Cottonwood A.S. (mile 11) the trail split from the Black Canyon Trail, meaning the entirety of the remaining Cocodona course would be new to me! That was exciting! I topped off my water, ate some watermelon, used the primitive facilities (pop-up shelter with a 5-gallon bucket), and then followed a jeep trail into the Bradshaw Mountains.

The trail roller-coastered for a few miles through surprisingly green and fragrant desert. This year was a rare superbloom and many of the cacti and other desert plants were still flowering, which was a treat! At the manned water stop before the start of the big climbing I topped off again and took a handful of frozen grapes, which were divine in the heat. Then the trail sloped upward and I started the long grind toward the top of Mount Union and the Lane Mountain A.S., still many miles away.

At about the marathon mark of the race, the trail descended into a valley. I was able to rock-hop over a creek to keep my feet dry. This (photo below) was the second water-only station (they had to bring potable water jugs in by mule so we were limited to 1L per runner). Then the trail climbed back up to some ridgeline views. The scenery was awesome and it was really windy up there, which was refreshing.

Separation between runners increased as the race went. I passed or was passed by other participants but for much of this section I felt like I was out there hiking alone. I followed the orange Aravaipa course markings, which were adequate, and double-checked that I was on course with the pre-loaded course map and CalTopo App, which I was able to use with my phone in airplane mode to conserve battery.

Eventually the trail split off the jeep track into a somewhat overgrown single track trail that wound up the mountain. The views looking back showed just how much ground I had covered… and climbed.

The air was cooler as I climbed into the 7,000′ elevation range, and the exposed trail gave way to the shade of ponderosa pine and other vegetation. Reaching the Lane Mountain A.S. was a big win. I had survived the hottest part of the course, and the single hardest section between aid of the entire race. I celebrated with a few minutes in a chair and ate several wedges of delicious watermelon.

The next section was the shortest. Only four miles from Lane Mountain A.S. to Crown King, and it was mostly downhill on a sandy road. For the first time in the race, it actually felt like a run and not a hike. I shared some miles with Christian Barratt and leapfrogged with Jessica Turner through this section. The magic-hour lighting brought new energy and optimism. The angled light shining through the pines was magical.

Given the difficulty of the brutal first 37 miles of this course, I had conservatively planned to hit the Crown King A.S. at around 8:40pm (the cutoff was 11:55pm) but I arrived in this historical mining town almost two hours earlier than anticipated. The aid station was set up at the Crown King Saloon, the oldest continuously operated saloon in Arizona. And this was the first crew-accessible point on the course. I was happy to see Stephanie, who had bought a vegetarian deli sandwich for me and made sure I grabbed all my night gear before setting off on the next section. I aired my feet out, cleaned them, and changed socks for the first time in the race. I spent about an hour there, having arrived two hours ahead of my own plan and five hours before the cutoff time. After that break, I figured I was still leaving Crown King an hour earlier than I planned and was happy about that. Mistake number one. I could easily have saved 30 minutes by moving efficiently through Crown King. Valuable time that I could have used for SLEEP later in the race. Just those thirty minutes would likely have been enough later in the race to get me out of Dead Horse Ranch on time to progress deeper into the race…

The road out of Crown King was a gradual climb for the first few miles. It was a near-full moon and I was able to hike the first mile of night without even using a headlamp. Once I reached an area with tree cover, I finally fished out the Black Diamond headlamp. At a fork in the road, where the course turns to the left, I encountered a group of five runners coming down from the right. They had gone over a mile out of the way missing the turn. I hung with them as the trail turned into a rock-strewn descent through the forest.

The majority of this 16.3 mile section followed the Senator Highway, a wide sand/gravel road perched on the hillside that should have been mostly runnable. Indeed, I was passed by many people running this relatively easy stretch. I was a little frustrated that I wasn’t able to move faster. My right ankle was starting to bother me by this point in the race, but my lower back was aching quite a bit and the impact of trying to run made it hurt worse and I was also feeling nauseous. Mistake #2: not carrying enough variety of nutrition on me. I had been eating sweeter granola bar style snacks all day, and all I had on me was sweet and fruity snacks like Lara Bars and Clif Blok chews. What I craved was salty/savory and I didn’t have that with me, and when I tried to nibble the granola bars I felt an immediate urge to puke. So, I went through the first night (this section and the following one, covering about ten hours of race time) while eating only about 300 total calories. It was all I could keep down. Obviously, that’s not sufficient fueling in a 250-mile event. The second half of this section, to the Arrastra Creek A.S., was the lowest mental/emotional point of my Cocodona experience. It wasn’t much fun. At one point, I turned off my headlamp, put on my light jacket to break the chilly wind, and attempted to take a trail nap. I wasn’t able to sleep but I’ll always remember that peaceful few minutes, looking up into the bright starry sky in the midst of participating in a 250 mile foot race. How many people can even say they’ve tried that?

Huge shout out to fellow runner Hannah Carta, who caught up to me on the course and then encouraged me to shuffle-run with her. Having company helped me move faster for a couple miles but eventually I fell back and she moved off ahead.

It seemed to take for F-ing Ever to reach Arrastra Creek. Those last two miles, which descended down a rutted jeep road with mud puddles and a long-absence of other runners or course markings, had me second-guessing and pulling out the course map on my phone to make sure I wasn’t lost. I was happy to finally reach the Arrastra Creek A.S. At last, I was able to satiate my salt craving with a cup of ramen noodles. Yet again, I attempted to take a trail nap near the fire but failed to sleep. I spent about thirty minutes there, I think, but I felt better when I left. The issues with nausea were gone and I for the rest of my race I was able to take in calories and hydration like normal. As I left Arrastra Creek a volunteer called out to me. “Is this your phone?” he asked. Oof! I came that close to leaving without my phone. Without my course map. Without a way of keeping in touch with my crew and pacers. That would have sucked.

After Arrastra Creek was another long, gradual climb (2,700′ over 9.4 miles up to Kamp Kipa). It was more road but at least I felt better. I pushed on with renewed energy. I was planning to grab a chunk of actual sleep in a bunk bed at the end of this section, so that helped motivate me to move steadily onward.

I covered this section in the wee hours of the morning. I felt jumpy at shadows, and this area felt like a plausible place to be preyed upon by a mountain lion. Despite having spent months developing the perfect Cocodona 250 playlist on Spotify, I never once in the race played music (Mistake #3: running to a good beat always helps me run or hike faster when I’m tired, and I neglected to employ this tool that first night).

And much more egregious, Mistake #4: I deprived myself of coffee or any intake of caffeine over the entire first 24 hours of the race. My philosophy was that I would be able to fall asleep and rest well when I wanted a chunk of sleep around dawn on the second day of the race. Well… that blew up in my face. I rely on a French-press full of coffee daily in regular life. On race day, had a small cup of coffee at the start line and then nothing after that. Cutting out caffeine for an entire day and night made things unnecessarily more difficult, I believe. And I wasn’t able to fall asleep when I was hoping too, anyway. So next time, bring on that sweet awesome bean juice, Coca Cola, and caffeinated Clif Bloks! Lesson learned.

Hannah caught up with me again on this reach (she had spent more time at the aid station), just before the course left the road for a three-mile stretch of steep, rocky single-track through brush and ponderosa. We leap-frogged with another guy, and eventually I pushed off ahead, eager to reach Kamp Kipa and a place to get some sleep. At one point, I passed a rock in the woods, maybe 5′ high by 10′ wide. Painted on it was a very Western scene of a women riding a horse, with a desert landscape in the background and some fancy black script. I squinted to try and read the text, wondering what I was looking at. A cigarette advertisement? An old western movie poster? I found myself looking at a plain gray rock. That was all a hallucination. My first. Woohoo!

That killer climb finally ended at Kamp Kipa, just as the sky was lightening from black to dark blue. I was 24 hours into Cocodona 250. 63 miles complete. Time to sleep. I grabbed a bed in a “heated” bunkhouse, but the single space heater wasn’t kicking out enough heat in the wind-swept cabin. I wanted to get 2-3 hours of solid sleep, which I felt would propel me through until the following dawn. I think I drifted off, but for a maximum of 15 minutes before I was awake again, shivering in the cold. I wasted another thirty minutes there before I realized sleep wasn’t going to happen. I ate some pancakes and scrambled eggs and drank a couple cups of coffee in the main hall at Kamp Kipa, then used the pop-up potty before continuing the journey. Another couple of hours burned without substantial sleep. Now the sun was up and the world was bright. The next section was downhill on another sandy road for the first part, then smooth and sandy single track. I shared some miles with Jenny Dolak on the road part, and I was able to run for spurts on the way to Friendly Pines Aid Station at mile 72. The single track section was not unlike running in Michigan, and the softer footing felt good. I was happy that the lower back pain from the night before wasn’t bothering me anymore and I stayed on top of nutrition and hydration.

I rolled into the Friendly Pines A.S. before noon. I ate a vegan burger and other food (thank you amazing aid station volunteers!) and Stephanie was there with my gear. I changed into a fresh set of underclothes and new shoes. I again gave myself two hours to try and get some real sleep in the back of Stephanie’s car. It felt good to lay down but with the sunlight and caffeine from the coffee at Kamp Kipa I was again unable to sleep. I hit the trail again at around 1:00pm.

Runners are allowed to pick up pacers at mile 72 but I did this one on my own and that was fine. I moved pretty well, still able to run the downhills, and the forest was nice to run through. The smell of warm pine needles in the breeze, and some shade! I met fellow runner Jeremy Nicolosi part way through this stretch and we hiked through Prescott into the Whiskey Row Aid Station together.

Kara and Sara had met at the airport and drove up to Prescott together. They were there waiting for me just before the Whiskey Row aid station and energetically cheered me on in. I took a break in the shade to drink coconut water and cold press coffee, and eat lots of watermelon and some pizza. It was nice having access to a real bathroom with a flushable toilet and a sink with running water! And, from Whiskey Row onward I would always have a pacer. I had finished the solo sections and was looking forward to sharing miles with awesome friends the rest of the way!

Kara and I set off from Whiskey Road and through Prescott for a few miles of sidewalks. I filled her in on my race experience up until then. We also met and leapfrogged runner Andrea Moore and her pacer.

After leaving the town, the next bit was a flat and easy section to Watson Lake and the Granite Dells, but on that stretch I noticed hot spots on my feet and took off my shoes and socks to apply KT tape around some of my toes and my heels to help prevent blistering. That was a worthwhile investment of time, but it did take a little while on what should’ve been a fast section.

The Granite Dells were really scenic, but 85 miles into a tough ultramarathon that uneven slickrock and the circuitous route through these rock formations was also somewhat annoying and energy-depleting to scramble over and around. Once through those, we had a long stretch of easy rail trail into the Iron King Aid Station at mile 92. I was starting to feel really sleepy at dusk, and I tried running to pick up the pace and also to wake myself up a bit, but my right ankle was really angry. The tendons on the top of my right ankle flashed with acute pain when I tried running. Maybe if I had a few miles to the finish line I could’ve run through that pain, but with more than 160 miles left to go that just wasn’t happening. I could hike through mild discomfort, so that’s what I did. Relentless forward progress. Just keep moving…

The sunset was amazing and the landscape here was eye candy. We heard coyotes, saw a porcupine, and learned about the history of the old rail line from the interpretive signage (I kept moving, Kara read them and shouted out the highlights).

The Iron King Aid Station (mile 92) had a mashed potato bar and I indulged in a large bowl of salty potatoes. It gave me the energy I needed to make it through the next section, across the cattle ranches.

Shortly after leaving the Iron King A.S. the course turned off into a cattle pasture and we encountered the first of several A-frame ladders over barbed wire fence.

The first section of ranchland was straightforward. The route was easy enough to follow and the soft dirt felt better underfoot than the sidewalk section we had just left.

We popped out of that pasture over another A-frame ladder for what seemed like a long section of road shoulder. Then we climbed another ladder into the next pasture. This was a lot more confusing. The flags were sparse, and when we did find a course flag there often wasn’t an obviously defined trail to point the direction to the next one. We had our phones out to follow the course line on the CalTopo App but ran into a deep ravine cutting through the field and had to figure out where the course was supposed to be through that, and we also got stabbed in the shoes by prickly pear spines. We zig-zagged through the field trying to follow the course line, and following the Aravaipa flags when we found one, and eventually reached the fence at the far end. After climbing over and out, the course went right into a cement box culvert under the highway.

On the other side of this culvert was yet another section of ranchland. Overall the Cocodona course was well-marked and relatively easy to follow considering the distance covered. But finding flagging in these fields in the dark was frustrating and confusing, and we cut across following the CalTopo App map as close as possible. Eventually we reached a fence line to follow into the Fain Ranch Aid Station. It was about 1:00am and I was so ready to sleep. Stephanie and Sara were there to greet us, and had set up a tent with air mattresses and our sleeping bags in the parking lot there. They left all my nutrition and gear there for me and they went to get some sleep at a hotel. This aid station has some substantial (and tasty!) food so I ate vegan meatballs and snacks for dinner. Kara had agreed to pace the next section, too, so we crashed in the tent and set an alarm for 5:00am.

I couldn’t fall asleep immediately. For a while, I experienced rapidly changing but vividly detailed images flashing in my mind when I closed my tired eyes. This series of unrelated images appeared like flash cards at like, ten frames per second, and had nothing to do with the race. For example, one was like a generic stock photo of a woman in business attire seated in an office chair in front of a computer, holding a black phone to her ear with a fake/posed smile on her face. Like, why? I’ve never experienced a mental state like that before but after hundreds of these mental image creations over the span of a minute or two it calmed down. I still tossed and turned for a while but eventually fell asleep. I believe I got a solid three hours of sleep that night before the alarm woke me up.

I really wanted to keep sleeping, but this was Cocodona 250. I got up and had a cup of coffee and a good breakfast before Kara and I set back out towards Mingus Mountain.

We had to climb over a few more gates but the course was easy to follow in the daylight and we headed east into the sunrise, towards the Black Hills. I passed the 100 mile mark, which was really exciting! Every step thereafter would be uncharted territory, pushing my distance PR ever further.

The path through the ranch land eventually intersected a gravel road, which we followed for a mile or so and then split off on a nice trail that led into the hills and eventually up Mingus Mountain.

Despite the gain and elevation (we climbed back above 7,000′) I was feeling pretty good through this section and finishing the race was still my goal, and still seemed possible despite not being able to run.

We met Stephanie and Sara at the Mingus Mountain Aid Station. On the menu was vegan lasagna that was so delicious that I ate two large servings of it. No regrets. I needed the fuel.

Kara had covered about a 50K with me and it was Stephanie’s turn to join me on the course. We set off on a 16.8-mile section that was mostly downhill, but much of the descent was a rubble of ankle-roller rocks. But first, there was a short climb up to the very top of Mingus Mountain and an expansive view of the Verde Valley and the red rock canyons of Sedona in the distance. And further on the horizon, the San Francisco Peaks looming around Flagstaff. The finish line was over there. Only about 140 miles to go!

The views coming down the backside of Mingus were amazing but I couldn’t let my gaze linger on them too long, for the trail was a sometimes steep descent over rubble and uneven ground. This stretch was not kind on my ankles. Despite going slow and trying to exercise caution, the rocks often shifted, twisting my foot. I cursed each time sudden sharp pain coursed through my right ankle, and it was getting cumulatively more painful with each misstep. It was becoming difficult to put my full weight on it and I leaned hard into my trekking poles for support. I worried I’d torn something in my ankle. At that point, mentally, I started to shift focus from finishing Cocodona 250 to just getting to Jerome.

For the first time in race, I was starting to be cutting it close with the cutoffs. But I took a few minutes to elevate my legs and close my eyes, and Stephanie helped massage the tendons on the top of my ankle to help with blood flow. It did seem to make a big difference and I was able to hike the rest of my race miles with some discomfort but no longer sharp pain.

Let me just say, those rocks were THE MOST COMFORTABLE thing I’ve ever lain on. Those individual sun-baked rocks pressed into my sore muscles like warm little massage balls, and it honestly felt divine. Have you ever lain down and felt a wave of extreme relaxation, like you were melting into whatever it was you were lying on? It was like that. Elevating my legs and getting some blood flow to my head was also sorely needed. I could have stayed there for much longer but the clock was ticking! Onward we marched.

Thankfully, the trail mellowed out a bit and we hit a stretch with dirt and even dried pine needles that smelled so good. And then we encountered a friend! This amazing gopher snake:

Sara and Kara were texting Stephanie, letting her know I needed to keep moving to get to Jerome before cutoff. Shout out to Sara for giving me a Pearson’s Salted Nut Roll at Mingus, which helped keep me moving the last few miles of this section.

After the trail wrapped sinuously around the mountain slopes we finally hit a wider road with a more forgiving surface and hiked it in past the Gold King Mine Ghost Town and into Jerome.

As we walked past the ghost town I saw a man in a cowboy hat and maroon shirt standing on a rusted old tractor, facing us with his arms on his hips. Then suddenly he wasn’t there. Hallucinating a phantom at a ghost town was a peculiar coincidence. (Was it just a hallucination?).

Kara, Sara, and Stephanie worked efficiently to get me in and out of the Jerome Aid Station. Sara delivered me coffee and food, Kara patched up and wrapped my toes and ankles in KT tape, and Stephanie fished out my cold weather gear while I ate and applied the massage gun to my quads and hamstrings. I left Jerome with a few minutes to spare, and it was Sara’s turn to pace.

The sun set as we walked through Jerome. With the city lights, I didn’t feel the need to turn on my headlamp yet. That cost valuable time and energy, because we walked past the reflective ribbons and “wrong way” course signage that would have popped out had we used our lights. We marched down the shoulder of a highway for a while (photo below). Sara questioned it, but I pulled out the CalTopo App and showed her the blue dot was on right on the red line indicating the race course and we clearly facing the correct direction. We walked down the hill a few more minutes but our suspicion of being off track grew as the shoulder narrowed tight against the guardrail. Surely they wouldn’t route us into traffic like this?

I pulled the map up again and was confused that it still showed us right on top of the course line. Until I zoomed out, and realized the highway was symbolized by a dark orange line, which we were following. I saw then that a slightly redder line, the route, had split off at the top of the hill. Up through that point in the race all of the roads had been black or gray lines on the CalTopo App, but this major road was coded differently and had thrown me off.

Up the hill we marched. Nothing we could do about that but to get back on track and keep on moving. It added about one mile of unnecessary hiking to the section. I tried not to think about the consequences. That it cut a chunk of potential sleep time away from the next aid station.

I didn’t take any other photos the rest of the section to Dead Horse Ranch, as it was dark and I struggled to stay awake enough to keep moving.

Back on the correct route we passed through a utilities gate, shut it behind us, and proceeded down a very steep and dusty/sandy two-track trail. The top portion was littered with crazy amounts of broken glass and rusted metal scraps. We continued to hike/slip our way down until we hit a dirt road, followed a wash, and then popped out in the town of Clarkdale. Then it was sidewalks through town and following a paved road almost all the way to Dead Horse Ranch Aid Station. From Clarkdale to the aid station I was struggling in a major way with sleep deprivation. I had to push myself to hit even a 2 mph walk and when we arrived in Old Town Cottonwood I almost fell asleep leaning into a wall. Sara played music from her phone and told me stories to keep me awake and I followed her through the last bit, which was rough because it dipped off onto a trail along the river than was mostly piles or mini dunes of loose sand.

We arrived at Dead Horse Ranch Aid Station at about midnight. I had until 12:30am to leave that aid station, so technically I hadn’t timed out and I could’ve continued. But the writing was on the wall. I needed sleep then and there. Sure, maybe I could have had yet another cup of coffee or Coca Cola and squeaked out in time to start another section. But that next one was a 13.3 mile stretch and at my current moving speed might not have been possible. Even if I would have been able to get to Deer Pass before that cutoff, I would have had to head out for the next one without a chance for any meaningful sleep. And then I’d be chasing the next one after that.

I requested five minutes to think it over and ate a cup of ramen noodles, sitting on the tailgate of the rental car. I didn’t care enough about the difference between DNF-ing at course mile 135 vs. 148 to put myself or my friends through another five hours of death-marching through the dark in zombie-mode. A DNF is a DNF, and even at the cusp of throwing in the towel I was friggin’ proud of completing 138 miles (as tracked on my Coros Vertix 2, including the “bonus miles”) miles with 23,714′ gain over three days of continuous racing. I could feel that the four of us were all thinking the same thing. I unlocked my watch and held the button to finish and save the activity.

I insisted on hobbling over to the aid station captain to personally hand over my SPOT tracker and officially resign from the race. Then I crawled into the back of the rental car to sleep. Kara and Stephanie drove the two vehicles to Deer Pass, where they set up tents for themselves. I just spent the night in the car. I was too tired to process the race at that point. That processing would happen over the following days and weeks.

The four of us went out to a big breakfast in Sedona, and then the girls enjoyed hike while I napped in the car. We had lunch in town, too, and then Stephanie headed off towards home (well, towards her own solo adventures, actually).

Sara’s husband Alexei flew in and we all shared a VRBO there that night. It felt good to finally take a hot shower. I napped while they went out for dinner and they brought me back an extraordinarily tasty panini from Pisa Lisa (the Veggie Nirvana: “Grilled eggplant, smoked mozzarella, picante peppers; Served on ciabatta bread, baked to order”). And then I slept, for many hours, in a soft bed. I didn’t mind it.

Until the next day. When we hung out in Heritage Square to cheer on finishing runners. Then I felt like I should still be out there on that course. But it was too late for that.

I had mixed feelings about spending time at the finish line of a race I dropped from, but I got to meet some cool people including Wes Plate (@midpackelite) and Leah Pearce. Wes has put together some great YouTube video race recaps that have both inspired me and helped me plan and prepare for races like Javelina Jundred and Cocodona 250. I also briefly met Katie McWilliams, Jeff Garmire, Filip Boelen, Joanna Carr, Chris St Jean, and others who are friends-of-friends or that I simply follow on Instagram.

Brittany met us there later in the afternoon and Sara, Alexei, and I joined her at Dark Sky Brewing Co. Kara had picked up a runner to pace and was back out on the course.

Kara’s runner was speeding along and not a great personality fit so Alexei and I met her on the course, on the downhill section of Mt Elden, to collect her. Then we all went to the VRBO I had booked in Flagstaff and chilled out on the Cuddle Couch.

Sara, Alexei, and I met up with Nicole Ostrom and Tony Tadajewski for breakfast and then the three of us went on a slow five mile hike at Fort Tuthill the following day. We watched “A Man Called Otto” at the VRBO later (highly recommend). Sara and I also registered for the Sedona 125… the back half of the Cocodona 250 course, which is in May 2024. I’m excited to finish what I started next year! And then maybe, after experiencing the whole course, take another stab at the full 250. We’ll see…

On Sunday we returned to Phoenix and met Brittany, Eve, and Steve at Waffle House for lunch. Then went on a hike at Papago Park.

After the Papago hike Sara and Alexei had to head off to catch their flight home. I hung out with Brittany the rest of the evening (thanks for letting me crash at your place!) and did one final solo hike Monday morning on South Mountain before catching my afternoon flight back to Detroit. But actually, to Dallas and then Detroit, with delays on both flights, meaning I didn’t arrive in DET until after 1:00am. I grabbed a hotel room there and drove back to Gaylord (3.5 hour drive) the next day. And that concluded my trip!

*****

The elevation profile and route map for my 138-mile adventure across some amazing Arizona terrain…

***

When I went back to work I was greeted by an office door full of cards, notes, and printed congratulations for covering 138 miles of the course. My @huronpines coworkers are awesome. Thank you all for the support! (And for listening to me (enduring me) talk about this race every day for the past seven months!)