Standnope 100

I just ran the inaugural Standhope 100 in Ketchum, Idaho. I was very excited for this race--it was billed as an "unforgettable single-loop trek completely circumnavigating the Pioneer Mountain Range of central Idaho" that is "NOT an easy course." I looked at the course map and elevation profile and expected gorgeous views, akin to the Hardrock of Idaho. Instead, I had a 90 degree F 6PM start along several miles of highway shoulder, subpar aid stations, subpar course markings, a lot of gravel road, pavement to the finish, one truly excellent high pass, and a lot of mixed feelings about the race.

On the plus side, the race started and ended in downtown Ketchum, which was extremely convenient. I flew to Boise and rented a car, as I wanted to see extended family and visit gf's family inherited property on the trip. However, if you wanted, you could fly direct to Ketchum and you wouldn't even have to rent a car. On the negative side, this meant 4.5 miles of pavement to start, and 5+ miles of pavement to finish. 

The race was not consistently well-marked. I enjoy off-trail events, and I enjoy navigation and unmarked courses, but there is a certain internal consistency that can make things feel natural if done well, or just shitty if done poorly. For example, if you tell me ahead of time that I need to know the course and carry a GPS track, or a map and compass, great. On the other hand, a mostly marked course with a few unmarked turns on or off of roads feels awful. The latter was the case in this race, though to be fair it was mostly only a problem in one section, from miles 32-40. After a pass, the course markings left seemingly well-maintained trail and the GPS route and headed down a gully. I tried to follow the markings for a bit but since both maintained trail and the GPS route followed a more natural line, I eventually just cut straight down to a switchback to recover the trail, the GPS route, and the course markings. A trail crossed a bridge and hit a road, and the road had cones in both directions on the road. Then a turn off the road onto a lesser road was unmarked, so I stayed on the main road. After a major road junction, I checked GPS, realized I'd missed the turn, and took the major road straight to the aid station. Several runners got messed up in this area. The aid station at the end of it I think could have easily fixed it had they been supplied with flagging, but at least they had a cool attitude about it. Also slightly weird was that the RD couldn't (or wouldn't?) precisely describe the start of the race through town. It wasn't a big deal, because we did get led by a cyclist through the three quick turns through town that put us onto the highway shoulder, but it's not a great confidence booster to directly ask the RD immediately before the start "How far is it before the first left?", not get an answer, and not be able to tell whether the RD is being coy or whether he honestly doesn't know.

The race started at 6PM. I have only run one other evening start 100-miler--Grindstone, which is a David Horton race. David Horton can get away with that because he's a legend. He's also extremely stubborn (his words) and perhaps a bit of a sadist (my words). What does an evening start accomplish? To make the math easier, let's just say that in mid-late July, it's daylight from 6AM to 9PM in Ketchum. The race cutoff is 42 hours, the winner finished in 26.5 hours, and the median finish time was about 35 hours. Given the 6PM start, everyone had three hours of daylight to start, everyone ran through the first night, and one runner finished before having to use a headlamp during the second night. The winner ran 17.5 hours in light and 9 in dark. The median runner ran in light 18 hours and dark 17 hours. The 42-hour cutoff finisher would have run 24 hours in light and 18 in dark. 

Compare that to a 6AM start. Assume for the sake of argument the same durations, though I think that's unlikely because running in the dark is typically slower and going two nights without sleep is significantly less fun than going one night without sleep. The winner would run 17.5 hours in light and 9 in dark, the same as before. The median runner would run 26 light and 9 dark hours, significantly more in the light than with the evening start. The cutoff runner would run 30 light and 12 dark, again more daylight running than with the evening start. The cutoff runner would finish by midnight the second night--they'd have to have a headlamp for sure, but they would not go a second sleepless night. Hopefully it's obvious why the ratio matters: a big part of running a course is seeing the course, which aside from a pleasant view of the stars, can't be done at night.

Now, daylight running isn't the only variable to examine here. We might also care about temperature. The start of the race was a miserable 90-degrees, and the heat of the next day was also pretty miserable. Running more at night does reduce the average race temperature, but I would argue that if you're holding a race at night because it's too hot during the day, your priorities are out of whack--just hold it at a different time of year. (There was a heat wave seemingly everywhere in the world at this time, so I don't think this was actually a calculation the RD made since everything was scheduled months in advance. I'm just saying heat isn't a good enough reason to run at night on a course people actually want to see.)

Another reason for an evening start is to schedule a certain particular part of the course during the daylight. This was indeed accomplished: the obvious highlight of the course is Standhope Pass at mile 47.5 after about 14 hours. With the 6PM start, the leaders went over the pass around sunrise, and they hit one of the hiked-in aid stations and its gorgeous wildflowers while it was still dark (clearly, the packed-in aid station had to be there during the night.) The rest of us clearly went over the pass during the day, and the aid station could close up and pack out without having to spend another night (assuming a much lighter load on the way out and a reasonable rate of downhill packing out.) 

Gorgeous Standhope Pass

Down from the pass to Baptie Lake


 

Compare that to a 6AM start. The leaders would have gotten to the pass around 5PM, I (a little bit slower than the median runner) would have gotten there around 8PM, and the cutoff chaser may have gotten there when it was getting dark. It would indeed suck to get "stuck" there overnight, but I assume permitting agencies would be comfortable with racers being told they couldn't drop there--they would have to keep hiking on, and one of the aid station volunteers packs out backwards with them, or the sweeper goes out forwards with them. 

The point being--a morning start would also let everybody see the one cool pass in the daylight! The aid station volunteers wouldn't have to spend an extra night out, they'd probably just shift the one night they spent out to after the runners instead of before. 

A final reason for an evening start might be to stagger the finishes of the shorter races (there are also 30K and 60K races held the same weekend.) The 100-milers ran through the finish of the 30K and 60K after 57 miles, and the shorter race cutoff time possibly did allow most of the RD's work at that finish line to be done before he had to head back to town for the first finisher of the 100-miler. 

Heading down to Little Wood River

As for the course itself, is there potential for more than one super-cool pass on the course?! A quick search of the CalTopo map shows alleged trail going over Johnstone Pass. Some random online report says the Forest Service has abandoned this trail due to frequent slides, but if they would allow the course to use this route, it should definitely be pursued. The course has seven tough climbs, and they all go over passes or shoulders, but they were not all equally inspiring (read: alpine rather than tree-covered). Not to beat a dead horse, but timing for more daylight hours would allow more runners to appreciate more of the passes on the course.

The course would be better with less gravel and pavement. I broke down the map by surface type. Grey is gravel, black is paved, red is current trail, and blue is my potential alternate. At present it feels like basically half the course is gravel or paved. (I'm slightly over-counting gravel on the map--I don't distinguish between gravel and lesser dirt roads that are more enjoyable to run, they might make up a third or a quarter of the "gravel" roads.)

Course Map

I'm not saying a reroute is obvious or even possible, because I've never spoken to the permitting agencies, but Johnstone Pass seems like it might be a possibility, and there two potential places to avoid gravel and paved road: the 100-milers could go over the shoulder of White Mountain, which I'm pretty sure is on the 60K course. There's no such thing as a free lunch (except for starting in the morning!) so that would require an out and back to Star Hope aid station, but it might be worth it. You might also be able to improve the finish by running on Corral Creek Trail instead of the roads.

Aid stations: at least three car accessible aid stations did not have any soda. In the 100+ ultras I've run, I can't recall a single aid station before Standhope without soda unless it was explicitly labelled as a water-only (also likely unmanned) drop. Soda is a must. Coke and Ginger Ale are standards. I get that RDs might delegate the exact buffet spread to each aid station captain, but they usually come with a minimum standard: water, sports drink, soda, potatoes and salt, potato chips, fruit, PB&J, and more. Vegetarian options in terms of hot food was also not excellent, though I did not have high expectations (it being rural Idaho and a brand-new 100-miler). There were three packed-in aid stations, and two of them had quite the spread (including soda!); I truly appreciate this gargantuan effort.

OK, OK, enough complaining. How did my actual race go? Well, I finished in 37 hours. Friends of mine who are much stronger than I am finished in 31 and 34 hours, so I feel that my time was decent enough. Given that only 23 runners started the 100-miler, I expected to be alone for a day and a half. Instead, I ran nearly two-thirds of the race with other people. Right from the very beginning I traded off DFL with another runner, and we ended up staying together until around mile 70. He ended up being only 16 years old! His brother started pacing him at mile 40, and me and another solo runner latched onto them and we made a good group for a while. I thought we might actually finish together, but eventually we split up. If I'd managed just one more climb without breaks I'm guessing the other solo runner and I would have hung together until the finish, and I could have taken about an hour off my time. 

Overall, my trip to Idaho was great. I had a fun dinner with extended family, I drove around gorgeous Idaho, and I visited a property that gf's family won in a poker game generations ago. I'm glad I took the extra day and a half off work to make a bit of a trip out of it instead of just flying in and out of Ketchum immediately before the race. Gf and I are moving to Reno now, so we have our hands full. It was nice to get the race done before the move so I can not feel too guilty about a couple of low-mileage weeks.

Next up: Tor des Geants! (So I should really keep training!)

The Idaho Property






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