Two Bays and Coastal Walk loop hike

Lizard Head near Rye

For my final hike of the year I decided to do the Two Bays Trail from Dromana to Cape Schanck. Initially I was going to do this as an out and back with camping overnight for one night, but then I found out about the Coastal Walk along the back beaches from Cape Schanck to Portsea and opted to do a loop hike with the help of a bus to return to my car in Dromana. I ran the Two Bays Trail in about 2004 and I have run or walked bits of it since. The forecast was for two very hot days with a cool day in between so I picked a hot day for my first day and hoped to enjoy the cooler day as my second day. The campsite situation was such that I would only be hiking 16 km on the hot day.

I set out from Dromana mid morning; it was warm but not uncomfortable. I had a big drink before starting out and I was carrying 3.2 litres of water which is much more than I normally carry. The Two Bays Trail starts with climbing towards Arthur’s Seat but then deviates to avoid the summit. The path was quite rocky and went into forest, then contoured a bit, crossed some grassy slopes and I came to a small lake. There were great views of the azure waters of the bay as I climbed. I was surprised to see several runners on such a warm day. Everything was very dry.

I then had to hike through suburbia for a while and returned into the bush on a dusty trail that descended a long way. I startled a long black snake that was hiding in some grass on the trail. I had to follow a dirt road for a while, and having done 10 km I thought it was time to stop for lunch so I sat down on a log in a paddock.

After lunch I soon headed into the bush for the nicest part of this trail. It was a lush forest of ferns and a welcome change after all the dry colours. I heard a few kookaburras. The trail crossed many dry creeks and there were masses of buzzy insects around the creeks, but also some butterflies. I surprised an echidna, who immediately burrowed half way into a hole then kept very still. I also saw a huge kangaroo.

When I got to my planned campsite I had a pleasant surprise as there was a water tank which I had not expected. But the camping area was totally without shade and it was by now very hot. It was not yet 2 pm and I didn’t think I could spend the rest of the day there so after a short break I walked on. I wasn’t at all sure where I could camp instead. 

I came to the end of the fern forest and the picnic area at Boneo Road where the car park had lots of cars but not a person in sight. I didn’t want to camp so near a road and there were no facilities so I walked on towards Bushrangers Bay, which is where all the car occupants must have gone. The beach was absolutely beautiful and I hoped I could find a secluded spot to camp there, but the entire area was visible from the trail, however there was not going to be anywhere better to camp before Cape Schanck as the bush was too dense for camping and the cape has good road access.

I paddled in the water for a while, lay on the sand and sat on rocks with my feet in the water. I was seriously short of drinking water and had to ration myself as there wouldn’t be any before Cape Schanck. I decided to camp at the back of the beach and put up my tent and cooked once all the daytrippers had left. It was really hot inside my tent and I needed the fly sheet for privacy, but I didn’t use my sleeping bag until the middle of the night. Everything was fine until I heard some weird noises and poked my nose out of the tent: there was a fox sniffing around where I had been cooking, but it quickly ran away. I didn’t sleep all that well and the ocean was very noisy.

In the morning I walked quickly to Cape Schanck (seeing another fox on the path, or maybe the same one) to use the facilities and had breakfast at a table in the deserted car park. I walked part way along the boardwalk to get a good view of the lighthouse and the rocks. It was rather a dull overcast day.

Then I headed out along the Coastal Walk, first along the clifftops in forest to Gunnamatta Beach. There wasn’t much view until I descended to the beach but I then had a lovely long stretch of beach walking. The beach walking was definitely the highlight of my 2 day hike. After Gunnamatta I walked along St Andrews Beach and Rye Beach and they were all fairly empty. It was low tide so I had hard sand to walk on and occasionally walked across rocks. The dunes varied from sandy to rocky. I thought it was quite hot again but not as oppressive as yesterday. The clouds cleared nicely and the sun came out.

Past Beach 16 in Rye the trail was close to the road but then returned to clifftops to go above some very pretty small beaches. One beach had a bench with a sign on it “The Office”. Just before Bridgewater Bay there was a detour due to a landslide so I had to go inland. I went for a quick peek at the bay and then headed back across the - by now very thin - peninsula to Blairgowrie. I went into the first cafe I saw and after a while I got the bus back to Dromana. I walked 25 km the first day and 26 km the second.

Fiery Gizzard Run (marathon) - Tennessee, 30 November

Foster Falls

I picked this race for the name. So I didn’t do much research before signing up. I got an alarming email a few days before the race warning me about how easy it is to get lost, how the trail involved lots of scrambling, and a full page of emergency phone numbers. But in the end I was my own undoing rather than the trail itself. I don’t know what was wrong but I felt bad within the first 6 kms and it just got worse from there. It was only at the half way turnaround that I came good.

The marathon was within the Foster Falls Small Wild Area, I’ve also seen it called South Cumberland State Park, near Chattanooga and was an out and back primarily on the Fiery Gizzard Trail. The origin of the name is unclear but the trail is highly rated. There were less than 50 runners. We didn’t do the whole trail, diverting onto the Dog Bowl Trail, correction Dog Hole, and the route was extremely scenic at least half of the time with a mix of plateau running and descents to the bottom. We clambered down into gorges, clambered up out of gorges, passed behind or through waterfalls, had numerous bridges, saw lots more waterfalls and had some spectacular gorge views with vast vertical cliffs. In between were miles of undulating forest running (or unfortunately walking in my case) which were a touch monotonous.

There were only 2 aid stations. It was an odd set up because we passed the first aid station once at 7 miles then passed it again a mile later after an out and back, then had the half way aid station, and then the first one twice again on the return. The out and back was to an amazing gorge overlook and it would have been nicer to have the aid station there so we would have an excuse to stop properly.

So I was feeling awful during the first half. I tried to think positive and tell myself the feelings would pass but I seemed hardly able to run. I banged my knee on a rock and cut my wrist on briars and I once half tripped, jolting my bad hamstring so it ached for a while. At one point I started hyperventilating and in general I had no energy whatsoever. I walked a fair bit. I had no stomach issues and it was neither cold nor hot. I was not in any physical pain. I put it down to the bad diet I’ve had the past month, and maybe dehydration.

I navigated the first gorge ok, the one we had specifically been warned about, and had a horrible climb up onto the ridge on big uneven steps. Meanwhile half marathoners were passing in the opposite direction with apparent ease. Then we had the unusual experience of going behind a waterfall that was in a rock cave, getting a little wet while doing so. I was relieved to get to the first aid station and tried to cram in some food. I didn’t even look at the view at the gorge overlook on this first visit. From here on there were more waterfalls, more tricky ups and downs and a long descent to a creek. 

I didn’t realise at the time but when I crossed the creek I turned the wrong way; I didn’t even notice there was a junction. There were a few daytrippers around and in hindsight I think there was a little boy lying down on the bridge and I was concerned about tripping over him. Most of the route was either flagged or we followed the trail blazes, and I also had the route downloaded on my phone. It was not too hard to follow and I would say it was adequately marked. However I knew that there was a part where the route I’d downloaded was inaccurate because the course had changed but the download had not been amended, and I remembered that I had to check I didn’t go the wrong way. When I finally looked at my phone I saw that I had already gone the wrong way; this didn’t matter too much because it only meant I was going on the wrong side of a loop, doing extra distance of course, but I was going to end up in the right place. The problem was that the aid station was somewhere inside that loop and I didn’t want to miss it.

By absolute chance I found myself running towards another woman whom I thought was ahead of me so I asked her where the aid station was, assuming she had recently left it, and she said she was on her way to it. I followed her, backtracking half a mile, and got back on course. I’d run more than an extra mile, what with going the wrong way around the loop also.

At the aid station I fussed around asking if there were any runners behind me (I hadn’t seen anyone for ages) and if there was a course cutoff. The marshal was absolutely wonderful, saying there were 25 people behind me (an exaggeration) and that I had no reason to worry about cutoffs as I was doing great. He was most concerned about my bleeding wrist (from the briars) which didn’t bother me at all.

From this point on I felt so much better. I began to enjoy the trail and look forward to the various sections. Even the bland forest running was more exciting. I stopped to take a few photos. I was able to run most of the time except in the scrambling sections. When I got back to the bridge where I’d gone wrong I could easily see my mistake. I didn’t even notice the steep section which I had hated on the way out.

I stopped at the gorge overlook to admire the view and chatted with the woman at the nearby aid station. We decided that the forecast rain might hold off. I even passed a couple of runners.

However it wasn’t long until the rain started. At first it was just a few minutes of sprinkles which would clear and then start again. But before 20 miles the rain became heavier and I put on my jacket. The forest felt nicer in the rain which seemed to bring out the autumn colours, but the rocks in the tricky gorges were much more slippery.

In the last miles there was one more surprise, a difficult detour from the outward route. I saw my sub 7 hour finish evaporate. When calculating my possible finish time earlier on I had been horrified at how long this marathon - only a marathon - was going to take me. We had to clamber down into another gorge and move along beneath a huge vertical cliff which is popular with climbers. I didn’t expect to see any climbers because of the rain but I passed a few groups. It was really impressive but slow going on rough rocks. I was close behind a guy and we chatted as we hiked, noticing some distant thunder. Just when it seemed we would be down there forever we heard the sound of a rushing river and came to a huge suspension bridge. To our left was a massive waterfall, Foster Falls, extremely noisy and definitely worth a serious visit on another occasion.

From here we climbed up another set of rocky steps and I zipped on ahead of my companion. The finish line was close and there were a couple of very enthusiastic marshals there bellowing out my arrival. I realised later that nobody had crossed the finish line in this bleak wet place for the previous 20 minutes. I received in quick succession a souvenir mason jar, a quesadilla and an apology that the quesadilla was cold because I had taken so long. Well, not the because.

The rain was heavier by the time I drove back to my hotel and was later torrential accompanied by lots of loud thunder. Runners were still out in these conditions so I had been lucky. I ate a lot of chocolate that evening and little else because I couldn't go outside in that rain and anyway there was nowhere worth going in this uninspiring place. My 7:29 finish was good enough for 5th place overall out of 14 women, a surprise to me.

The next day was sunny and I went back to Foster Falls to get the full experience, and take the nice photo above. There was even a second waterfall that I had not noticed yesterday, next to the main one. It was a wonderful spot with the falls cascading over a circular cliff and a big pool at the base of the falls.

Tennessee, North and South Carolina, Georgia hiking

View from Mt Mitchell

I started my 2 weeks of hiking at Frozen Head State Park in Tennessee, site of the Barkly Marathons although I’m not sure I went to the same part of the park, but there again nobody knows exactly where the race happens. It was very autumnal with lots of yellow, orange and red leaves on the trees. The toilets at the parking lot were heated!

I set out to climb Old Mac Mountain on the South Mac Trail. It was pleasant walking in the forest with not a soul around. I could see mountains through the foliage and the leaf litter was great as usual. At the top of the trail there was a fire tower which I climbed for some good views over forested hills and into partly cleared valleys. I started down on the North Mac Trail and then moved onto the Panther Br Trail. I wasn’t sure if Br meant bridge, branch or brook but the whole trail was beside a stream and lovely. 

Further on I took a detour to a small set of falls, Emory Falls, tumbling over a shelf of rock and here I saw my only other hikers for the day, who commented that I was walking much too fast. There was another small waterfall, Debord Falls, with a large viewing platform. The trail ended at the wrong parking lot but I just walked down the road as there were no cars and when I got back to my car it was still all alone.

My first attempt at hiking in North Carolina, discounting the short hikes I had done around Durham, was not very successful. I wanted to hike a bit of the Appalachian Trail at Max Patch. Unfortunately I got onto the wrong interstate and ended up going a long way out of my way, then I couldn’t find the access road for the hike, and when I finally found an access road it was a rough unsealed road that I wasn’t sure I should be driving on in a rental car.

So I ended up parking the car in a turnout and hiking up the dirt road to Max Patch. That was fine as the road was in the forest and the only vehicle to go by was a post office van. When I got close to Max Patch I was able to turn onto the Appalachian Trail. However Max Patch itself was most disappointing. The grassy mountain top was nothing more than an open air toilet. There were some decent views to be had if I was careful where I stepped. I was surprised because the trails here  are generally clean.

The following day I had a much better experience. I drove to Black Mountain campground and hiked up Mt Mitchell which is the highest peak in the eastern USA. It isn’t all that high, only 6684 feet, but the hike up was 5.5 miles and all uphill. It was bitterly cold where I parked and I became concerned that I should take more warm clothes with me as surely it could only get colder the higher I went. So I put an extra pair of pants and 2 fleeces in my backpack and took beanie, buff, gloves and rain jacket even though it was a sunny day. I wore 2 layers and my sheepskin vest. Within a short time I was far too warm so I removed one layer but the vest was too bulky to put in my pack and I can’t wrap it around my waist. So I basically spent the entire hike feeling uncomfortably warm, and I only took 600 mls of water so I had to ration my drinking.

It was a pleasant climb. Lots of crunchy leaves underfoot. The foliage changed from deciduous to light pine forest and there were a few window views from clearings. From 3 miles onward there were small patches of snow by the trail. But it was definitely not cold. I could see a couple of hikers ahead of me. 

Mt Mitchell summit

At the top was a large viewing area. There were views forever, row upon row of mountains with some very distinct peaks, lots of forest and a few roads. Usually you can drive to the top but the season was over so the concession stand and toilets were closed (hence no water) and apparently the road was closed for maintenance so we hikers had the summit to ourselves; there were 5 of us. On the way down I took a detour onto another trail which passed a little waterfall and a (clean) camping area. I don’t think this trail can be much used because the route was sometimes indistinct and there were numerous fallen trees and other obstacles. But the leaves were deeper and extra crunchy. I saw no other hikers on the descent.

The next day I did the 6.4 mile out and back trail to Looking Glass Rock. This is a very distinctive protruding slab of granite which I had seen from Mt Mitchell. The trail up was all in forest, passing occasional granite outcrops, and very peaceful. But when I stepped out onto Looking Glass Rock there was a howling gale; it was quite a shock. The views over the forest covered mountain ranges were great again but because I was lower I couldn’t see beyond the first tier. On the way back to Asheville I took a wrong turn and ended up on the Blue Ridge Parkway which is an amazing road along the ridgeline and through the mountains with many short tunnels.

Then it rained so I went for a trail run instead. I found a lovely trail near Asheville called Explorers Trail deep in the forest and did a 5 mile loop. It was undulating and winding. At one point I ran through one of those rhododendron tunnels for which the region is famed. I was fairly soaked by the time I finished. But nothing hurt.

Raven Cliff Falls

My next hiking was in South Carolina. I started with the Raven Cliff Falls loop of around 8 miles which was partly on the Foothills Trail, a long distance trail I had contemplated thru hiking. There was hardly anyone around when I started out but when I got back to the car the car park was overflowing and the roadside lined with cars. I guess it was a beautiful day and a Sunday.

The hike started with a trail to a viewpoint towards the falls; they were very distant and cascaded thinly in a stark gash between two mountains. I continued in forest, descending quite steeply until I crossed a creek and then climbed. So it was like a mountain hike in reverse. The trees were mostly leafless. As I got nearer to the falls, and continued climbing with the aid of a few wooden ladders, the undergrowth became much greener. 

The trail crossed the falls a couple of times, on a log bridge and on a smart suspension bridge. The lower falls cascaded over rocks in the dense undergrowth. There were conveniently situated big boulders by the suspension bridge for sitting and watching/listening to the main falls. The second half of the trail back to the car park was much easier and it was interesting to see the foliage change as I gradually returned to the bleaker wintry leafless trees.

The next day I did a longer hike, 11 miles, a loop incorporating Pinnacle Mountain and Table Rock Mountain. The best views of Table Rock, a huge granite monolith, were actually from the road before I started hiking. I began with the climb up Pinnacle. First there was a pretty creek and waterfall. It was easy going in lovely forest where there were still plenty of red and yellow leaves on the trees, and I crossed a couple of little waterfalls. I came to a big granite outcrop with a great view over the surrounding countryside, and ahead the summit looked rather higher than I was. The ascent dramatically became very steep and rocky - fun. There was no view at the top due to all the trees. Some hikers were just leaving the top and I was too shy to ask them to take a photo of me so I practised taking selfies in front of the signboard.

I then continued along a ridge towards Table Rock. I was surprised there was constant descending, so I would be doing a lot of climbing later as both mountains are almost the same height. The trees here were leafless so I could glimpse surrounding mountains. When I got to the start of the Table Rock trail there were suddenly lots of hikers and the trail had some tricky parts with big rock steps. Before the summit was a huge outcrop with excellent views back towards Pinnacle. 

At the Table Rock summit there were again no views but there were several overlooks only a little further along the trail. I stopped at the first of these and there were eagles circling. At the subsequent overlooks were views of a couple of lakes and I could also see Raven Cliff Falls from yesterday. The trail down was really busy and lots of dogs.

 I found the hiking in Georgia more rewarding than the hiking in South Carolina because I was at a higher elevation and the views were better.

My first hike was to the top of Blood Mountain and back down on a loop. I was amazed at how busy the parking lot was on a Tuesday, but it was a beautiful day. I hiked up on the Freeman Trail which had few other hikers until it joined the Appalachian Trail for the final summit push. The trails were quite rough and rocky with the usual tree routes across the trail. The trees were almost bare so the mountain views were better but the surroundings were not so colourful.

At the summit there were huge rocks convenient for sitting on to take in the view, which was excellent: forested mountains forever. I guess this is what the Appalachian peaks are famous for. There was also a stone hut at the summit which I would not care to sleep at all it looked so spooky. There were quite a lot of people around the summit, but what was especially good doing the loop in this direction was that there were more lookout rocks on the descent and nobody seemed to stop at these. 

View from Blood Mountain

The trail down, the AT, was congested and had a lot of big steps carved from the rock. Near the bottom of the climb I decided to stay on the AT until Neels Gap so I could check out the resupply store there and also avoid the busiest part of the descent. 

Blood Mountain

The following day it was raining when I set out so I decided to hike in the forest. I went to Dockery Lake and hiked 3 miles into the forest along a creek. Dockery Lake was a smallish mountain lake with a camping area. The hike began by going along a ridge and from here I could look into a valley filled with clouds. I then descended to the creek. There were numerous fallen trees blocking the trail and a lot of small creek crossings on stepping stones. It was nice but lacked a focal point so after a while I turned back.

The next day was Thanksgiving and I did the Dahlonega Turkey Trot 5 km. I ran into town (after a small breakfast) as a warm up. There were about 250 people in the race and it was a dog bone course around the town. It was surprisingly hilly. I ran as fast as I could and just managed 25 minutes. I was tenth female overall out of 133! After the race I ran back to my hotel and was still able to get a second breakfast. The hotel manager, who had been really chatty with me at my first breakfast, pretended he didn’t notice me; I was all set with banter about double dipping and I didn’t get my chance.

In the afternoon I set out for another hike as the weather was sunny. I went to Winfield Scott Lake, a really small mountain lake, and intended to do the Slaughter Creek and Jarrard Gap trails as a loop on the other side of Blood Mountain. The first trail followed a creek with glimpses of Slaughter Mountain through the trees. In order to return I was going to take the AT back to Jarrard Gap, but when I got to the AT junction (where I had also been 2 days ago when I went to the summit) I decided that this was another trail without an objective so I went up Blood Mountain again. It was less busy but the views were just as wonderful, possibly even greener. I came down via Jarrard Gap on the AT, following a ridge line with plenty of mountain views through the bare trees. Thee was nobody hiking on this side of Blood Mountain.

After the Fiery Gizzard race in Tennessee I went briefly back into Georgia to do a trail in Cloudland Canyon State Park. The West Rim Trail came highly recommended, one of the 10 best in America, so I thought I shouldn’t miss it. I did the trail and, although it was nice, I wouldn’t put it on a top 10 list. The best part was the very beginning where you could look down into the canyon, deep and steep sided, and then hike to the river below. It was rushing violently through the gorge, probably due to the yesterday's rain. The trail wound mainly along the top of the gorge and the steep cliffs were certainly impressive but there were no views of the river because of the dense tree cover. So it was really just another fun hike in the forest.

Cloudland Canyon

Race Across Durham (marathon) - 17 November

Eno River

This rather obscure race, well, obscure to me but maybe not so obscure to the residents of Durham, North Carolina, turned out to be one of the nicest marathons I have run. It only had 130 runners and there was no pizazz, no promises of BQ. I didn’t go in with high expectations but I did go in injured, so I was delighted with the outcome. I had a reason for selecting this marathon: I had been researching hikes in North Carolina when I stumbled on the Mountains to the Sea Trail, and I liked the sound of it but I was disappointed to see that the trail is not yet complete. When I saw that there was a marathon on the trail this sounded an excellent way to get on the trail without feeling unhappy that I could not thru hike it, while still completing a substantial chunk.

Regarding the injury, all I can say is that I am a slow learner. I have run 3 hundred milers now and after each one I have injured myself the first time I go for a run after the race. This time I strained my hamstring at last Saturday’s Big Bear Marathon. It happened late on in the marathon and didn’t bother me too much at the time but the next day I was in real pain. I could manage to hike so I pretty much hiked the pain away. By Wednesday the pain had all gone, Thursday I was flying all day, so on Friday afternoon I decided to go for a short run. The pain returned in the first few minutes but I persevered for 5 kms anyway, actually in considerable pain. On Saturday I went for a short hike in Umstead State Park, continuing my plan to visit the sites of as many well known ultras as I could, and the pain was tolerable. So I knew I was in for an uncomfortable marathon.

The marathon was a point to point, all on the Mountains to the Sea Trail as promised. I had to drive to the bus pick up, take the bus to the start, then take a bus from the finish line back to my car. There were 2 buses going to the start line and I boarded the second one because it had lots of empty seats. It seemed a very long bus ride. It emerged that the driver did not know the way and had gone a very circuitous route so we got to the start line only 7 minutes before the start. We had to check in at the start line and when I checked in the marshal was pleased to meet the Australian and introduced me to the race director, who wanted to chat; I would have loved to chat but I had to change my clothes and use the bathroom and I didn’t have long, so my chat just involved me asking if I could change my clothes in the bushes (I could see a line at the portaloos). I probably tarnished his nice image of Australians when I rushed into the (not so dense) bushes and took off my clothes. As it was I had to run to the start line and was still moving in the wrong direction when I heard Go!

Going the wrong way!

We started near a lake (I believe the bus driver had tried to drive around it twice) and kept fairly close in the early miles. It was a cloudy day and freezing cold, but not as cold as it had been at the boat ramp start line before I started running. I wore my light jacket, but I had taken off my leggings at the start line and I was very glad of that. (Taking off leggings is tricky when you wear shorts on top of leggings, which is why I had to change in the bushes.)

The entire race was on trail, save a mile or so when we deviated through suburbia to avoid a sewage spill or something like that. There was a stretch just before this that was really muddy. Being totally in the forest is what made it so lovely. Much of the trail was single track, so by the time the faster runners had passed I was almost alone, just seeing other people from time to time. The first half was almost flat with some slight undulations. There was a lot of leaf litter, which covered a few obstacles like tree roots and small rocks so it wasn’t all easy going. I love the wintry deciduous forest.

From half way we followed the Eno River, sometimes crossing from side to side. The trail was very close to the river, which featured a few small rapids, and sometimes we climbed a bluff above it. I was going quite slowly but I was really happy. My hamstring reached maximum pain early on and then maintained that level of discomfort for the duration. Other things started hurting too but it was all tolerable. One of my fears had been stomach issues because the night before I had eaten a meal that comprised a burrito filled with refried beans, an enchilada filled with refried beans, and an accompaniment of refried beans and rice. But my stomach was fine. Around 16 miles I passed the place where I had parked, which confused me as I thought I had parked at the finish line. But no, for some reason we had to park in the middle!

In the last 10 miles I saw few runners, save occasional stragglers. Nobody passed me in the second half. The sun came out for a while but the air was still icy and I never took off my jacket. It was all so pretty, but curiously devoid of the squirrels that usually proliferate in these forests. Right near the end we had a reasonable climb, but it was not as severe as I had been led to believe, and there was a marshal at the top saying The worst is behind you now.

The finish was by a quarry whose hole was filled in with water. The marathon had taken me well over 5 hours, which may explain why I did not feel especially tired. It’s a long time to be out there but I can’t have been going very hard. From the quarry we took a bus back to the parking area where they had a finish line party in progress. Except that there wasn’t much left of it by the time I got there. I had a bowl of soup (no non meat options but I fished out the sausages) and a beer. Then I drove back to my hotel and enjoyed the donut I had saved for the occasion.

In the evening I decided to go to Popeye's, which meant deliberately eating meat for the first time this trip. I wanted to try their chicken sandwich because it has achieved certain notoriety: firstly I've heard that people are prepared to queue for hours to get hold of one and secondly there was recently a murder in a Popeye's car park following an altercation over queueing. At this suburban Durham location there were about 15 cars at the drive-thru, which meant that the cars were blocking a lane of the highway, the seating area was packed and there were plenty of folk who had gotten out of their cars and were lining up to order. I think the secret to the popularity is that the chicken batter is made from the same ingredients as krispy kreem donuts.

I have a few observations about American marathons as opposed to ultras (which even apply to 50 km ultras which in all honesty are not much longer). 1. Nobody walks in marathons until they are reduced to walking through fatigue whereas in all ultras Americans appear to feel obliged to walk as soon as the terrain turns uphill even slightly. 2. Marathon runners are not as friendly as ultra runners. They don’t chat. Ultra runners always chat. 3. There is no food or only engineered food (gels, chews etc) at marathon aid stations. I prefer a pb&j, M&Ms or at least a banana. But the marshals and aid station folk are just as over-the-top enthusiastic, whether it’s a 5km or an ultra.

The next day I did a hike along another stretch of the Eno and saw lots of squirrels. 

Big Bear Marathon - California, 9 November

San Bernardino Mountains 

I didn’t run a step between Rio del Lago and the marathon. I knew when I signed up for the Big Bear Marathon that a fast marathon the week after a hundred miler was not a good idea. But I signed up anyway. I liked the sound of a scenic downhill course and I looked forward to good hiking days after the race. Before my trip I worried more about how I would be feeling in the days leading up to this marathon than about the hundred miler. 

In the intervening week, having come down to Southern California, I did some good hiking in the San Gabriel Mountains and Angeles National Forest. I didn’t realise there were mountains like these just behind LA. 

The first hike I did was up Strawberry Peak. There was no water at the trailhead and I started at midday with less than 500 mls of water under a hot sun. There was no shade on the hike because the hillsides were just low scrubby bushes. Underfoot was virtually sand. It was really pretty and as I got higher there were layer upon layer of mountains in all directions.

The second hike was up Mt Baden Powell. This time I took plenty of water and it was a cooler day. I have had nothing but blue skies in California. This hike is known for the 40 switchbacks on the climb, but what this means is that there are no PUDs (the D part), it is all seriously uphill which I don’t mind at all. This was pine forest with window views on the way up, and at the peak the views were wonderful, again rows and rows of mountains.

Big Bear Lake

On race morning I again had to be up far too early, at 4am, to get the bus to the start line. It was minus 2 degrees as I drove to the bus. Big Bear is at an elevation of about 7000 ft which explains the cold morning. On the bus I sat with a local runner who was doing her first marathon; I told her, when she asked, how many marathons I’ve run but I refrained from telling her what I had done the previous Saturday. Although  it’s called Big Bear Marathon the race is not in Big Bear at all; it starts 15 km south of the place at a forest parking area and finishes in San Bernardino. I went straight from the bus to the toilet queue, which moved very slowly; I emerged from the toilet as the race announcer was calling 1 minute to the start.

It was just on daylight as we headed off. As expected everyone around me went out fast and I was conservative. The course is about 90 % downhill and I was concerned about the toll on my body since sustained downhill running can get uncomfortable. I was going to wait for the second half to speed up, which I did, running it 10 minutes faster than the first half.

We were running in a narrow forest-sided canyon on a slightly winding road. Soon there were views across to the San Bernardino Mountains. I find the mountains here quite distinctive in their mottled appearance, which is due to a lot of sparse bushes on the sandy soils rather than dense tree cover. There were short uphills which I walked as part of my conservative strategy.

Around half way the downhills became steeper and I really enjoyed this part as I let myself go at whatever felt natural. The aid stations were 2 miles apart and I felt I was flying between them. Almost. The problem with downhill running is that it sounds nice but you still have to cover the distance. The terrain opened out and eventually we followed a wide river valley. By now we were in full sunlight and it got warm. I refined a new skill: applying sunblock while running.

As time wore on I started passing people and it was a long time until my legs felt bad. At some point my hamstring got sore (the other one, not the problem side) but I tried to maintain momentum. 20 miles came and went and I knew I was having a good day. 

Along here the road flattened out considerably and there were demoralising straight stretches. At one point several running clubs had set up small tents as aid stations, probably just intended for their members, and I grabbed a delicious piece of donut from one, a cup of coke from another. I was drinking at each aid station but as the day warmed I don’t think I got enough fluid. I’m also not so used to races without food!

We came into the suburbs and ran through Mentone. Not a patch on ours with no beach in sight. I had been concerned about the urban part of the run because San Bernardino had not made a good impression on me when I drove through it; a vast dusty place with a lot of sketchy parts. But we didn’t get into the city proper. We had just one long strip mall section, where I was reduced to walking several times, and then a long mile in dry parkland where we could see the finish line way ahead in the distance. Finally I made it. I guess 4:11 isn't too shabby the week after a hundred miler although I must admit I would have liked to do better. 

The results desk was handing out spoof BOS luggage tags for those of us who had done a Boston qualifier and I received one of those. This made me the envy of many (younger) people who finished around my time as one of the major draw cards of this race is the above average chance of doing a Boston qualifier. (On the bus back to my parked car I had to endure an hour of the guy in the seat behind me trying to come to terms with his failure to run a BQ.) At the finish they had pizza and an alcoholic seltzer and vegan ice cream. At least the pizza was tasty! 

I finished!

After the race I had a couple of days of hiking near Big Bear. The mornings were freezing cold, literally, but the days warmed up to nice temperature. It wasn’t too surprising my motel room was cold: they were making snow for a play slope overnight only 100 metres from my room.

I started with the Cougar Crest Trail which climbed for great views over the Big Bear Lake and the surrounding mountains. The trail was all in pine forest. Then I continued to Mt Bertha and had a chat with some guys from Brisbane at the top. The trail was very busy and lots of people with dogs, which I like as this gives the mountain lions something to eat first.

The next day I took the Pine Knot Trail, a mixture of pine and oak forest, to Grand View Point, where there was a fabulous view across the valley to the San Bernardino Mountains and the valley I had run through. I continued on the Skyline Trail, one of the nicest trails I have ever walked, as it was along a ridge top with unobstructed vistas and also had interesting granite boulder clumps. I saw nobody on this trail apart from 3 mountain bikers. Then I descended on the Plantation Trail through a pine plantation and back to the car in deciduous forest. Everything was so dusty. In the evening I had my best meal so far on this trip. It had taken me 4 days to find the less grotty eating area of town. I had a burger with a portobello mushroom (instead of meat) and grilled zucchini, with sweet potato fries.

Once I left Big Bear I spent some time nearer to LA and went for a very hot hike in Chino Hills State Park. I did an 8 mile loop along ridge tops and into dry canyons. The hillsides were covered with yellow grasses and there were good views along the top.

Rio del Lago 100 miles - California, 2/3 November

No Hands Bridge, American River

My third hundred miler. I had picked this race for several reasons, but primarily because it has a much larger field than the other hundred milers I’ve run and I thought this would alleviate my worries about running for hours and hours on my own, no other runners in sight and not knowing if I was going the right way. Spoiler alert: this did not stop me from going very off course and wasting an hour, causing me great anxiety about being unable  to finish within the 30 hour cutoff. The other reasons were that it follows a chunk of the Western States 100 Miler course, an iconic race I will probably never get to run, and that it was logistically not a headache at all. The worst aspect was that I had to set my alarm for 3.30am on race morning.

So what could go wrong? My stomach, that’s what. I have never suffered like this in any other race before. My one-time experience of having to rush for the toilet at the Narrabeen Allnighter was the closest I had ever come to my horrific race day at Rio del Lago. Let’s get this out of the way quickly: I spent my whole race 1. Looking for toilets 2. Asking aid station staff for toilet paper 3. Going into every toilet I saw that didn’t have a queue (only 2 of these) 4. Heading into the bushes very quickly (8 times). And to be quite clear, my need to pee was never the problem. As the finish drew closer all I could think of was that I would finally be able to go to a real toilet and not have the clock ticking.

The course was an out and back from Folsom with a loop at each end. A dog bone. This was a great layout as it meant that, despite this being an out and back, I saw only the absolute leaders on their return journey rather than running past hundreds of runners on their way back as I was still on my way out.

We had darkness for the first couple of hours as we ran mainly on a bike path by Natoma Lake and it was uneventful apart from the toilets still being locked. It wasn’t cold and I wore shorts and my very light jacket. I had taken off my tights at the last minute and I was glad of this. I tried to keep my pace down, a good strategy, because I moved up 90 places between the first aid station and the finish. Of the 380 starters at least 100 failed to finish but of those only a handful missed the 30 hour cutoff.

By the time I finished the first 18 mile loop it was light and we headed out along Folsom Lake for the long trip up to Auburn Lake Trails. The course was lovely. Although the first part had seemed a little too urban we were now in light forest or crossing open meadows and the views of the lake were great. 

The hardest part early on was the 9.5 mile gap between two of the aid stations; most of the aid stations were between 3 and 5.5 miles apart. I was determined to get my hydration right today but for whatever reason I did not take any water in my bottles for this long stretch and I became quite dehydrated. It was to be a warm day and cloudless. After this I was careful to have enough water as I left the aid stations. The course was undulating and quite bouldery in places (small boulders), with some slippery parts where there was a thin layer of sand over small rocks. My shoes were completely worn out (I was wearing my Bibbulmun / Heysen shoes) so had little traction but I was ok. 

Somewhere along here I managed to hit my head on a low tree branch: I had noticed a branch that I had to duck under but I lifted my head too soon and banged it on a second branch. You know what is really odd: I never saw this double obstacle on my return journey in darkness but they cannot possibly have chopped the branches down.

I fell into step quite by chance with another runner in my age group, Karen. She lived locally and did a lot of hundred milers, in fact she had done one last weekend. I went on ahead and ended up in a long line of runners doing roughly my pace. Everyone was very friendly and we chatted. Someone offered to crew me if I come to run in Oregon and several of my new friends had been to Australia. I felt comfortable. At an aid station I saw a tube of sunblock and put some on. It said Men on the tube but I couldn’t see why it wouldn’t work on me; then I realised it had a strong scent of aftershave! Oh well.

Leaving Rattlesnake aid station (mile 35.5) I suddenly found myself alone. I wasn’t sure if I was going the right way but my stomach came to my rescue: I ducked into the bushes and was pleased when I heard runners going by. We had a long stretch of meadow with some tall dried up plants and for a long time I saw nobody. Then I passed a hiker and asked if he’d seen any other runners; luckily he had and when I answered his question about what race I was doing he said Hats off! 

The next aid station was called Cardiac, which in my experience is a word that American runners link with brutal uphill running. A stiff 3 mile hill followed this aid station. I found myself with Karen again and she said she was on home turf here; so not surprisingly I couldn’t keep up with her. I came to Overlook (mile 44 and 10 hours exactly on the clock) and the start of our jaunt along American River. This was wonderful, not too hilly and great views down towards the river. This is where I hiked when I came here in February after the Salmon Falls 50k. It had been a warm day but I knew things would cool down soon.

No Hands Bridge aid station, at one end  of this curiously named bridge high above the river, was lively. I was distressed to find out that I had 10.5 miles to the next aid station; even though I had made a note of this in advance I had completely forgotten. The aid stations were not all that exciting but they broke up the total distance nicely. It’s all a mental thing; I was running aid station to aid station. 

I was surviving on cheese quesadillas and pb&j sandwiches (freshly made), and drinking mainly coke because the sports drink was the least pleasant I’ve ever experienced: it tasted like cold tea. Ok, I know Americans like iced tea. They also have a thing about ginger settling the stomach. This must be the reason there was ginger ale at every aid station, but unfortunately it’s the ginger that does the trick rather than the flavour.

Not far out of this aid station I saw what at first could have been a mirage: a toilet with its door open waiting to welcome me. When I left this toilet I saw Karen just ahead with her husband (pacer) and I put on a spurt to reach her. I told her excitedly that I had finally been able to use a toilet (she had earlier on kindly given me some toilet paper from her stash) and I think she must have decided I was a bit weird. I went on ahead for a while and then they passed me. We had numerous tiny creek crossings.

I fell into step with a guy and his pacer and we chatted. He called me Australia for the obvious reason and I called him Roseville for the same reason (which incidentally was also where I had stayed before the race). Darkness fell about an hour before I got to Auburn Lake Trails aid station, the start of our return trip back to Folsom. I was pleased my headlight was working well in contrast with my experience in France. From Auburn Lake Trails the course followed the Western States Trail via the Highway 49 crossing which is notorious in US running circles because people have gone wrong there during Western States. 

A race wouldn't be a race without a fall. Somewhere along here I found myself upright one minute and flat on the ground the next. I never saw what my foot hit. I landed hard on my left side, grazing my elbow badly and sustaining an impressive bruise on my thigh which I only looked at two days later. My elbow bled profusely and I hoped that would keep the wound clean. Shortly after Roseville pointed out to me a sign noting Barb's Seat; he explained that Barb was a local runner who had been taken by a mountain lion, the only known occurence in the area.

We had a tough hill after Highway 49 but I managed to power up it and I enjoyed the chance to hike for a while. I came back to No Hands for the nice part along the river, which I did mostly alone, hearing occasional sounds of distant trains, and then to Overlook. I was hearing noises in the bushes sporadically and I hoped this wasn’t mountain lions. I had stiffened up a lot and I didn’t like the awkward creek crossings, sometimes I even lost my balance.

At Overlook I sat down and sorted through my drop bag, changing over to my other headlight because I knew it had fresh batteries and putting on my fleece. I deliberately left behind the light I'd been using until then, thinking I could not possibly need a backup light which probably had low batteries. I will never ever do this again. Never.

As I left Overlook I followed a couple of runners and we headed steeply downhill. One of the guys said he didn’t recall climbing so much to Overlook on the outward trip, but decided it would have felt different anyway for being in daylight. We took comfort from the fact that we were following course markers. We went on, I passed them, I saw a deer, and then after a while I thought the trail looked a bit too familiar. I had been looking more closely than usual at the trail leading into Overlook because I needed to get into the bushes. I waited for the other guys and they agreed it looked familiar but we decided that a lot of the trail around here was similar. We saw more runners approaching us and asked them if we were going the right way. They said yes and we ran on.......straight back into Overlook. I couldn’t believe it! The thing was: those other runners hadn’t been to Overlook yet so they were indeed going the right way, for them but not for us. I was at Overlook exactly one hour and at least 3 miles after I had left.

I raced out of Overlook and soon saw where I had missed a turn. Now I was on track but I was in extreme panic that I would now miss the overall cutoff. This was the only thought that would go through my head, over and over. It was awful. I zipped down Cardiac hill at top speed even while I knew I might be wrecking my whole race. Near the bottom I stopped to walk for a bit and asked another runner if we were ok for time; he thought we were and I took some solace from this as he was clearly confident even though he was going to be doing a lot of walking. Nonetheless I checked at Cardiac aid station about cutoffs.

It seemed a long way back to Rattlesnake, through the meadow. The starry sky was beautiful, and I don’t think I’ve seen a sky like this in America since I cycled across Arizona in 1988. From time to time I would see a bright yellowish light and think that was coming from the aid station where I was headed, before realising it was the moon. I’m going to the moon I said to myself. The night air was pleasantly cool. I felt overdressed in my fleece but I thought I should keep it on.

Just before Rattlesnake a couple of runners (a racer and his pacer) passed me. They had been chatting to each other and I had been enjoying listening. One of them had fallen asleep at the wheel while driving home from a hundred miler. While they were still only a little ahead of me I stumbled slightly and at that exact same moment my light went out. I shrieked, as one does, and the guys asked if I was ok. I said my light had gone and being incredibly stupid (I didn’t say that aloud) I had left my backup at the aid station. They kindly let me stick behind them. My light flickered on and off and must have had a loose connection.

From Rattlesnake to Horseshoe I walked with them as my light came and went. At Horseshoe Pacer lent me a spare light he had brought; not long after this I had a toilet emergency and they waited for me, I was so embarrassed because they must have realised I wasn’t just peeing. We walked the 9.5 miles back to Granite aid station together. Pacer chatted a lot and it was a great help to me. Racer had also taken a wrong turn earlier, out of Highway 49, and reckoned he had done an extra 6 miles. Pacer constantly reassured me that we would make the cutoff. I knew that we had 4 hours once daylight came so for once I was willing the sun not to rise. I was feeling pretty low along here. I thought about giving up but told myself how stupid that would be. In hindsight I would not have walked all of this were it not for my lighting problems.

Sunrise came about a mile before Granite. I was so pleased to be able to take off Pacer's headlight because it bobbed around the whole time and I could not sort it out. Coming into this aid station was torture as we could hear action at the aid station but the trail constantly turned away from where the noise was coming from; all the while I was muttering about how ridiculous this was and Pacer was singing some song. Racer was very quiet the whole way. I ran the last few hundred metres ahead of Racer and Pacer and then left the aid station quickly. Suddenly I worried that they would come into Granite and start looking for me so I ran back to the aid station and asked the helpers to tell my companions that I had gone on. They didn’t, I found out later.

I fully get pacers now and Pacer was especially good at his job. He talked without expecting replies and he pointed out all obstacles and he kept us moving along. I noticed other pacers were sometimes running too far ahead, and some were being far too obsequious.

I ran almost all the last 4.4 miles. It didn’t seem far at all. I remembered how I had felt as I started my last 6 km loop when I did that 80 km training run at home, and knew this was all I had to do. I really felt, from the height of the sun, that it could not yet be close to 11am, the cutoff. (My watch had died before Granite and even though I had my battery pack in my pocket I did not want to waste time stopping to plug in my watch.) 

But I still had time to go the wrong way. About half a mile from the finish line I wasn't seeing the course flags. I stopped and waited for a runner approaching behind me, who was a pacer without his runner. He said that I was going the right way but most people were cutting the course by running across a levee; in fact he was wrong about this but I didn’t know until afterwards. It was confusing because there was one solitary arrow showing where to go from my direction but most people were coming off the levee. I went on my merry way and reached the finish line by lengthening the course.

My reception at the finish was fantastic, the best thing about doing a race with a large field. I saw that I had just beaten 28 hours, running 27 hours 54 minutes. Since my goal had been 26 hours and I had wasted an hour by going wrong I could not complain. The commentator said I had the largest smile ever and there was lots of cheering. After a short pause I went to the food area and sat down. A volunteer brought me a plate of food; I had asked for pancakes and potatoes, and he brought me bacon too. I’m afraid the bacon was delicious and I couldn’t manage the other stuff. I ate a few donut holes and mini kitkats. And I really enjoyed my many visits to the portaloos. It was a lovely sunny morning and I stayed at the finish line until the 30 hour cutoff had gone.