"Low-rent, high price"
05/11/2022
This event is about as costly as any other distance race I have done, but the services it provides are somewhat lacking.
To begin with, the Salt Flats are a wonderful location for this type of race. While some see them as uninteresting, I think they have such a wonderful, stark More...
beauty. They are certainly a great place to run--provided that one packs a lot of sunscreen. Be aware that the salt flats reflect just as much sunlight as does packed snow on the ski slopes under a full sun. However, unlike the mountains, there are no pine trees (or any other shade, for that matter). Make sure you have a good hydration pack. Be prepared for the starkest desert landscape you have ever traversed.
I've found that the best races are ones that are either organized by other runners or that sponsor some type of charity. That way, the race reflects the organisers' passions. This race has neither of these elements. There was no sponsored charity, and the organizers were non-runners. It appears that this is simply an income-producing event for them. As such, they seemed to cut every corner to save a buck or two.
My wife and I have not done a lot of ultras, and we're a bit on the older side (I'm 62 and my wife is 54). We signed up for the 50K (31 miles) because that seems to be about our limit. One of the reasons we chose this race --apart from the beautiful location--is because the website advertised that the cut-off time for the 50K was 10 hours. We could do that.
From the beginning, I saw some things that troubled me--even on the website. The website said that it had a list of items that all runners were required to carry. I wanted to see this list; I wanted to see a list of essential items from somebody who knew the course and its requirements. Alas, when I clicked on the link to see the list, it said that the organizers had not decided what to include on the list. Not a single one of the organizers could be troubled to suggest any items.
We arrived the night before with our camper trailer. There were quite a few runners already there who were either sleeping in their cars or pitching tents. However, no porta-potties had arrived yet. Several of these poor tent people started looking pretty uncomfortable until I invited them into our trailer to use the facilities. They did not start shipping the porta-potties in until sometime late at night. The noise woke up a lot of the campers, but I guess the organizers did it that way to save the expense of an extra day's rent.
I'm not big into swag, but I know that a lot of runners look forward to this. If you are one of these people, don't get your hopes up. There is no swag--despite references to it on the website.
Just a minute or two before the race, the race director announced to all the runners that the intended course across the salt flats was impassible because of recent rains, and that we would be following an alternate route because of this. While this disappointed some of the runners, I realized that this was done for runner safety. The alternate route was run on a course that traced around the edge of much of the flats. Following the race, I chatted with the course director who told me that this was their "plan B" route and that they had needed to resort to it a time or two in years past. In other words, the alternate route was not something that was merely thrown together at the 11th hour. It was a course that the organizers had used before and should have been familiar with. That being the case, they should have been able to avoid some of the snafus that I experience out there.
The 50K course was an out-and-back, and it was supposed to have several aid stations. The first one going out (and the last one coming back) was an unmanned station with water available. I noticed that the fare available at the manned aid stations was quite sparse. It included a few nuts, crackers and some of those little "squeezy" applesauce packs. They contained none of the runner goods that one typically finds at running stations--such as gel packs, and the like. There were some cans of Mountain Dew energy drinks that appeared to be provided by one of the sponsors.
After we reached and passed our turnarount point, we came across another aid station about about our 17 or 18 mile point (I think it was labeled station 10). I went up to refill my water bottle and was abrubtly told to leave by one of the staffers. He told me that this station was only for the 50 milers, and that I could get my water elsewhere. (Strains of the theme from Lawrence of Arabia started filling my head). I was actually sort of embarassed, but as I jogged away, I started feeling a bit indignant. "Hey, I just paid them one-hundred and eight-five freakin' bucks. Can't they afford a bit more water for me? Instead, it was more like, "begone, thou beggarly 50k cur!"
The greatest mortal sin organizers can commit--especially in a parched desert environment--is to run out of water. There simply is no excuse for it. As one veteran race director once told me, "you estimate the absolute limit of the water you will need and put out twice that amount." Come on, folks! This is the planet Earth--not the planet Doom. Water is cheap and plentiful here.
You can probably guess where this discussion is headed. There was an aid station at mile twenty with water. However, I did not refill my pack because I had done so "illegally" just two or three miles previously. I decided to wait and refill in another five miles. As I ran the final mile to the 25-mile station, I thought, "oh my God, I should have filled up at the last one. I'm out of water and I'm partched!" However, when we got to the final station (which was unmanned, if you'll recall) we found several barrels of water, but no way to access them. The screw-on caps on top were screwed on tightly. Without the right kind of wrench, we could not open them. We plodded on. If it were not for a passing motorist who happened to be carrying a few bottles of water, we probably would not have finished--or worse.
Again, this is an issue that really sets my teeth on edge. When you organize a race such as this, runners are literally putting their lives in your hands. They trust you to take care of them. Sadly, the organizers did not take this role seriously.
I should add that several of the 50 and 100 mile runners told me that there were confused by some of the trail markings. Some them--including my son who was running the 50-miler--said that they ran several miles up the wrong path before realizing their error and turning back.
Here was yet another insult. Despite the lack of water stops for the final ten miles, my wife and I managed to finish about twenty minutes or so before the ten-hour limit. However, upon arrival, the race director then informed us that the cutoff was actually eight hours instead of ten. She told us that we were "DNF." We had to argue the point to her. I told her that I entered this race because of its ten-hour limit. She then consulted the website and said, "oh yeah, I guess I did say ten." So much for a triumphful finish! We were given a race medal that was about the size of a large postage stamp. (I've received nicer medals at 5K races).
If you have ever run an ultra that actually feeds you either during or after the race, know that such will not happen here. The previous month, I ran my very first ultra in California. It cost about the same amount of money, fed the runners both breakfast and dinner, and also contributed a large chunk of the proceeds to charity. I thought about this as I invited some of the huddled masses of runners into my trailer for a meal.
In any event, I did not feel that this race was about the runner at all, It was clearly an income-raising venture for the organizers and little more. As much as I loved the locale, I think I will look elsewhere next time.