I. Naples
Now in its fourth year, the Twisted Branch 100k Trail Race is one of the more challenging ultras in New York and the northeast. The point-to-point course follows the Finger Lakes Trail's Bristol Branch from Naples down to Mitchellsville, then heads east along the main FLT before finishing at Champlin Beach in Hammondsport. The singletrack trails are somewhat remote and technical, serving up a healthy dose of rolling hills and steep climbs as the course twists its way through various state, county, and privately owned lands. The race also packs a punch with 11,000 feet of elevation gain and a 1,500-foot net loss.I'd been hoping to run this race for the past few years, but other commitments meant I had to put it on hold. The point-to-point format on terrain similar to the FLT in the Ithaca area really appealed to my tastes. I finally committed to it early in the year when I signed up for all three races in the inaugural Empire State Triad Series. This series is comprised of Many on the Genny (40 miles) and the Cayuga Trails 50, with Twisted Branch as the 100k+ grand finale, measuring long at nearly 65 miles. The buildup in distance throughout the summer seemed like a logical thing to do. My main focus was a good performance at Twisted Branch since it's the only race in the Triad I hadn't previously run.
The pre-race logistics were different than anything I'd been through before. Because of the 4 a.m. start, the shuttle buses from the finish line to the start run the night before the race. That meant arriving at the finish line in Hammondsport on Friday
afternoon, then riding the bus with all my food, race gear, and camping gear in tow. Free camping was available near the starting line on Friday night, and runners were treated to a pretty thorough race expo prior to Race Director Scott McGee's pre-race briefing. We all pitched our tents upon arrival at Ontario County Park, setting up camp in a large, open field at 2,100 feet elevation. The bus, camping, running 65 miles back to my Prius — it was all part of the adventure.
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| Pre-race camping overlooking the valley. PC: Ron Heerkens Jr. / GFMedia Entertainment |
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| The illuminated starting line at 4 a.m. PC: Ron Heerkens Jr. / GFMedia Entertainment |
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| Hanging out with Tommy Hayward minutes before the start. PC: Ron Heerkens Jr. / GFMedia Entertainment |
Oh yeah, the giardia — that's a whole other topic. Basically I'd gone over a month with my intestines feeling like they were ripped to shreds. Occasionally the symptoms would disappear for a few days, teasing me into complacency before returning in full force. (For reasons unknown, it didn't affect me at all during Cayuga Trails, perhaps because my body was thrown out of whack from the race itself.) As of this writing, there's still no conclusive evidence that it even was giardia. I still had the symptoms weeks after taking a prescribed dose of tinidazole 500 mg, and a lab test came back as negative. So how'd I end up in this situation? Probably by drinking unfiltered water from a stream during a training run on the Twisted Branch course. My last long run before Cayuga Trails was on the last 18 miles of the TB trails. It was hot. I forgot my LifeStraw. I was almost out of water. In the moment it seemed like a slightly less stupid idea than it does now. Shit happens. Intestinal rioting commenced two days later.
The first section is fairly flat and rocky singletrack through Ontario County Park before a steep drop takes us off Gannett Hill. The course then climbs Cleveland Hill before another steep drop to to the first aid station. I tried to make a conscious effort to treat this like a 100-mile race and intentionally start very slow, restraining myself from crushing my quads before sunrise. For once I did a decent job of keeping it slow, arriving at Cutler with an 11:30 average pace despite a 600-foot net downhill.
Coming out of Cutler, we ran the longest stretch of paved road on the course. Still an hour before sunrise, it felt good to get some asphalt out of the way and have a break from tricky footing in the dark. The early morning humidity melted away as the winds picked up along the exposed road and a misting rain began to prevail. I ran some of these early miles with fellow Ithaca runner Ellie Pell, who was leading the women's race and running comfortably at the same pace as me.
Fast forward a few miles, and all the sudden it was an absolute downpour. Headlamp visibility became very limited, but the rain was so exhilarating I couldn't help kicking it into high gear. I passed a bunch of people who'd later pass me back, powering effortlessly up the inclines and running recklessly on the downhills. The storm continued for maybe an hour and a half. When it let up I could finally switch the headlamp off, but the runners high continued for several more miles.
I ran several miles with Mike Welden and eventual women's winner Emeline Lagache. We kept eachother going and Mike explained how he's been getting through an illness and didn't have any big expectations. He was looking strong in the early stages and then proceeded to pull ahead and finish twelfth in a very reasonable time and over an hour ahead of me. Emeline was nice enough to call me back when I missed the course flags and took a wrong turn up a logging road.
Coming out of Italy Valley around mile 23 was my only real low point of the day. This ascent is long and gradual, with 1,000 feet uphill spread evenly over four miles. The terrain is completely runnable, but I couldn't run for more than 10 to 20 seconds without jacking my heart rate sky high. I was only a third of the way to Hammondsport — way too early to start running on fumes. Not long after reaching the apex I started to feel normal again. The low point may have been a blessing in disguise — I never bonked again after that, even as my lower appendages were beaten to a pulp and the pace became little more than a shuffle.
At mile 29.3, The Lab is an aid station that, per Scott McGee, resembles a backroad meth lab trailer. It was also the location of my first of two drop-bags. I restocked my supply of gels and lubed up my right shoulder where my chafing Salomon pack was hard at work sawing my clavicle in two. This chaffage was worse than any other discomfort the race threw at me. I hadn't anticipated the peril of wearing the hydration pack over a thin Patagonia RNR singlet that offers no barrier between pack and skin.
The miles ticked by as I splashed my way through mud and deeper-than-usual streams. The rain had stopped hours ago, but we'd feel the after effects of the storm all day long. At least it cooled things down and kept the temperature lower than usual for this race. I passed the 50k point feeling pretty strong, relaxed, and happy to be out in the forest all day. I felt so good, in fact, that I wasn't deterred when I added half a mile by taking a wrong turn down a road. (I thought I saw an orange course marking flag down the hill, but it was just a reflector on the edge of a driveway.) Ron snapped some pictures of me picking my way gingerly over rocks through a raging stream near Patch Road.
At mile 39.8, Bud Valley is the biggest aid station on the course. This is the aid station where runners can pick up their pacers for the first time. It's also easily accessible for crew, and as a result it's a common spot for runners to drop. The half-mile of road into the aid station was lined with cars and crews waiting for their runners. Tons of random people clapped and cheered as I ran through the gauntlet. It was like a stage where you're the main attraction and everyone's there to watch and worship you. I crossed paths with Ellie here and learned that she'd had a rough morning and dropped hours ago.
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| Mug shot. PC: Twisted Branch Trail Run |
II. No Man's Land
The first section is fairly flat and rocky singletrack through Ontario County Park before a steep drop takes us off Gannett Hill. The course then climbs Cleveland Hill before another steep drop to to the first aid station. I tried to make a conscious effort to treat this like a 100-mile race and intentionally start very slow, restraining myself from crushing my quads before sunrise. For once I did a decent job of keeping it slow, arriving at Cutler with an 11:30 average pace despite a 600-foot net downhill.
Coming out of Cutler, we ran the longest stretch of paved road on the course. Still an hour before sunrise, it felt good to get some asphalt out of the way and have a break from tricky footing in the dark. The early morning humidity melted away as the winds picked up along the exposed road and a misting rain began to prevail. I ran some of these early miles with fellow Ithaca runner Ellie Pell, who was leading the women's race and running comfortably at the same pace as me.
Fast forward a few miles, and all the sudden it was an absolute downpour. Headlamp visibility became very limited, but the rain was so exhilarating I couldn't help kicking it into high gear. I passed a bunch of people who'd later pass me back, powering effortlessly up the inclines and running recklessly on the downhills. The storm continued for maybe an hour and a half. When it let up I could finally switch the headlamp off, but the runners high continued for several more miles.
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| Finally able to switch off the headlamp. PC: Ron Heerkens Jr. / GFMedia Entertainment |
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| PC: Ron Heerkens Jr. / GFMedia Entertainment |
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| A gorge overlook around mile 17. PC: Ron Heerkens Jr. / GFMedia Entertainment |
I ran several miles with Mike Welden and eventual women's winner Emeline Lagache. We kept eachother going and Mike explained how he's been getting through an illness and didn't have any big expectations. He was looking strong in the early stages and then proceeded to pull ahead and finish twelfth in a very reasonable time and over an hour ahead of me. Emeline was nice enough to call me back when I missed the course flags and took a wrong turn up a logging road.
Coming out of Italy Valley around mile 23 was my only real low point of the day. This ascent is long and gradual, with 1,000 feet uphill spread evenly over four miles. The terrain is completely runnable, but I couldn't run for more than 10 to 20 seconds without jacking my heart rate sky high. I was only a third of the way to Hammondsport — way too early to start running on fumes. Not long after reaching the apex I started to feel normal again. The low point may have been a blessing in disguise — I never bonked again after that, even as my lower appendages were beaten to a pulp and the pace became little more than a shuffle.
At mile 29.3, The Lab is an aid station that, per Scott McGee, resembles a backroad meth lab trailer. It was also the location of my first of two drop-bags. I restocked my supply of gels and lubed up my right shoulder where my chafing Salomon pack was hard at work sawing my clavicle in two. This chaffage was worse than any other discomfort the race threw at me. I hadn't anticipated the peril of wearing the hydration pack over a thin Patagonia RNR singlet that offers no barrier between pack and skin.
The miles ticked by as I splashed my way through mud and deeper-than-usual streams. The rain had stopped hours ago, but we'd feel the after effects of the storm all day long. At least it cooled things down and kept the temperature lower than usual for this race. I passed the 50k point feeling pretty strong, relaxed, and happy to be out in the forest all day. I felt so good, in fact, that I wasn't deterred when I added half a mile by taking a wrong turn down a road. (I thought I saw an orange course marking flag down the hill, but it was just a reflector on the edge of a driveway.) Ron snapped some pictures of me picking my way gingerly over rocks through a raging stream near Patch Road.
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| Approaching The Lab. PC: Shannon Oakes |
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| Slippery stream crossing just past Patch Road. PC: Ron Heerkens Jr. / GFMedia Entertainment |
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| PC: Ron Heerkens Jr. / GFMedia Entertainment |
Since Bud Valley is a major stop, I knew it could be a big time suck and avoided hanging around. A well-meaning volunteer told me I was the first runner to receive his personal invitation to run "a special marathon from Bud down to Champlin Beach." In other words, the distance to the finish was about 26 miles. I did some mathematicianizing and calculated a 5:40 marathon would get me home under 14 hours.
A few miles later I passed through Urbana State Forest and into Pigtail Hollow State Forest. Upon entering Pigtail I was finally in familiar territory. This is where I joined the trail on my one and only training run on the course, and I remembered the way to the finish pretty well. I ran for awhile with Danielle Snyder and her pacer Jason Vidmar, both of whom had run the race before. Danielle was on a mission once we learned she was within striking distance of women's leader Emeline. I hung with them for awhile before we began leapfrogging, Danielle dropping me on the uphills and me catching back up on the flats and downs.
Somewhere in the woods past Pigtail Hollow, the Bristol Branch of the FLT ends and the course turns left to follow the main FLT east for another eight miles. I was now truly in the homestretch. Somewhere around here Danielle dropped me for good and then went on for a strong second place finish.
I was quickly in and out of the penultimate aid station at Mitchellsville. The final aid station was only 2.5 miles away. Most of this short section is through soft pine beds with easy footing, running along the top of a ravine with a creek flowing steadily 100 feet below. I loved running these few miles during my preview run, and after finishing, it remains my favorite part of the 100k course. Halfway through this section I pulled all the stops, tapping into my own nuclear football. I'd been saving a Chocolate Cherry Clif Shot with 100 mg of caffeine for an emergency situation.¹ With one draining megaclimb left to go, I figured now was the time. I choked the thing down and hoped for the best.
A mile later I finally reached Urbana, a mere 10k from the finish. From here, a never-ending switchback climb up Mount Washington stood between me and the beach. It's not exactly the AT ascending Mt. Washington, New Hampshire, but 58 miles and 13 hours into a rugged 100k it might as well be. I doubt I could have told the difference. The actual numbers, per Strava, are about 900 feet in 1.6 miles. For a race with a net downhill there sure is a lot of uphill. I tried bribing a few volunteers into carrying me to the top, promising cold beer of their choice upon delivery. Alas, there were no takers.
I fueled up, crossed the highway, and began the slog to the top. My right ankle started shrieking with every dorsiflexion, making the ascent rather painful. I didn't feel overly energized on the way up, but actually made pretty decent time courtesy of the Clif Shot caffeine bomb. The Strava segment data says I was only 35 seconds slower than when I made the climb on my training run with much fresher legs. And if it's on Strava it definitely happened.
At the top of Mount Washington the trail is flattish and technical as you run along the edge of a plateau. I had to ignore the ankle pain as I hobbled along at a 13-minute-per-mile pace and passed a guy that was death marching it in. The FLT pops out of the woods onto Winding Stairs Road. From there, the course hangs a left onto the Triad Trail for a two-mile downhill finish.
Descending on the road was exhilarating. My quads had been pulverized but the plantarflexion movement from running downhill relieved my ankle pain. As I accelerated into my fastest pace in several hours, a nearby fire station blared its alarm, screaming like an air-raid siren. I pictured the finish line scene: "Gather the troops and take shelter! Pete's bombing down the final descent!" Lifeguards empty the lake. Terrified parents snatch up their crying kids. Race crews run for the hills. The National Guard converges on the Village of Hammondsport. Complete and utter bedlam.
The Triad Trail was lined with LED lights and illuminated balloons. I ran through about two hours before sunset, but I imagine this last bit of trail to be sensational after dark. The trail makes a brief ascent on a logging road before a steep, switchback laden descent to Rte 54. I negotiated the sharp turns, crossed the highway, and ran down into Champlin Beach and the finish line arch on the lakefront.
Upon finishing I felt like I could have run it back for a 200k option. Aside from my sore ankle nothing hurt too badly and I wasn't very tired. That being said, I doubt I could have run the last few sections much faster — my legs were so beat it was hard to pick my feet up on the technical terrain. Walking a quarter-mile to the car wasn't an issue. I was happy to finish in 14:37. In retrospect, sub-14 was a lofty goal given the course difficulty and weather.
Jim Sweeney overcame wet and muddy conditions to better his 2017 course record by two minutes. As for the Empire State Triad, Scott Parr killed it and took the series win with a cumulative time nearly three hours faster than mine. Lizzy Hughes won the Triad for the ladies. (Okay, only six people completed all three races. Hopefully that will increase next year as the series and individual races become more widely known.)
Ultrasignup Results
Aid Station Split Times & Other Numbers For Nerds — another neat feature of TB
Empire State Triad Series Results
The finish line scene was second-to-none. Race Director Scott and Assistant RD Jeff were there to congratulate and get feedback from every runner. Natalie Thompson was serving up some monster veggie burritos along with a bunch of plant-based, whole food side dishes. (I forget exactly what they were, but I remember the food was amazing!) This eliminated my desire to rush back to Ithaca for a burrito before Viva Taqueria closed for the night. All the camping gear from the night before had been delivered to the finish by a volunteer crew, and we all had the option to camp at Champlin Beach for another night. Pamela Scully, LMT, of Bodywork Kneaded, was on hand for massage work that didn't have me yelling in pain. I saw my friend Cory cross the line with his 13-year-old son as his pacer.
I hung around trading stories with other runners and watching people finish. I'd made it to Hammondsport. Then I went home and slept.
***
Scott and his team put on a well-run event with a ton of logistics, and from my experience everything went very smoothly. The volunteers were all very friendly and helpful — even those who'd been waterlogged since 5:00 a.m. Twisted Branch is one I'm definitely looking forward to running again!
"But wait a minute, Pete!! Didn't you forget to write a post about Cayuga Trails, skipping it and going straight to this one? Treason!"
A very astute observation, my dear reader. Kudos for your attention to detail re this blog. I've got something unconventional in the works for my run at Cayuga, but it needs more time. Check back soon.
¹ Rock & Roll Fun Fact: In an early demo of "No Sleep Till Brooklyn" the Beastie Boys had a stanza about Chocolate Cherry Clif Shots as their drug of choice, rapping about how the Shots fueled their sleepless tour until the band returned to the 9-1-7. Rick Rubin insisted energy gels weren't rock n' roll enough and made them change it to beer.²
² Yeah, I completely made that up.
Somewhere in the woods past Pigtail Hollow, the Bristol Branch of the FLT ends and the course turns left to follow the main FLT east for another eight miles. I was now truly in the homestretch. Somewhere around here Danielle dropped me for good and then went on for a strong second place finish.
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| Leaving Lake David at mile 50.6. PC: Anne Van Dusen |
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| Bristol-FLT junction. Photo taken during a training run. |
I was quickly in and out of the penultimate aid station at Mitchellsville. The final aid station was only 2.5 miles away. Most of this short section is through soft pine beds with easy footing, running along the top of a ravine with a creek flowing steadily 100 feet below. I loved running these few miles during my preview run, and after finishing, it remains my favorite part of the 100k course. Halfway through this section I pulled all the stops, tapping into my own nuclear football. I'd been saving a Chocolate Cherry Clif Shot with 100 mg of caffeine for an emergency situation.¹ With one draining megaclimb left to go, I figured now was the time. I choked the thing down and hoped for the best.
A mile later I finally reached Urbana, a mere 10k from the finish. From here, a never-ending switchback climb up Mount Washington stood between me and the beach. It's not exactly the AT ascending Mt. Washington, New Hampshire, but 58 miles and 13 hours into a rugged 100k it might as well be. I doubt I could have told the difference. The actual numbers, per Strava, are about 900 feet in 1.6 miles. For a race with a net downhill there sure is a lot of uphill. I tried bribing a few volunteers into carrying me to the top, promising cold beer of their choice upon delivery. Alas, there were no takers.
I fueled up, crossed the highway, and began the slog to the top. My right ankle started shrieking with every dorsiflexion, making the ascent rather painful. I didn't feel overly energized on the way up, but actually made pretty decent time courtesy of the Clif Shot caffeine bomb. The Strava segment data says I was only 35 seconds slower than when I made the climb on my training run with much fresher legs. And if it's on Strava it definitely happened.
At the top of Mount Washington the trail is flattish and technical as you run along the edge of a plateau. I had to ignore the ankle pain as I hobbled along at a 13-minute-per-mile pace and passed a guy that was death marching it in. The FLT pops out of the woods onto Winding Stairs Road. From there, the course hangs a left onto the Triad Trail for a two-mile downhill finish.
Descending on the road was exhilarating. My quads had been pulverized but the plantarflexion movement from running downhill relieved my ankle pain. As I accelerated into my fastest pace in several hours, a nearby fire station blared its alarm, screaming like an air-raid siren. I pictured the finish line scene: "Gather the troops and take shelter! Pete's bombing down the final descent!" Lifeguards empty the lake. Terrified parents snatch up their crying kids. Race crews run for the hills. The National Guard converges on the Village of Hammondsport. Complete and utter bedlam.
The Triad Trail was lined with LED lights and illuminated balloons. I ran through about two hours before sunset, but I imagine this last bit of trail to be sensational after dark. The trail makes a brief ascent on a logging road before a steep, switchback laden descent to Rte 54. I negotiated the sharp turns, crossed the highway, and ran down into Champlin Beach and the finish line arch on the lakefront.
III. Hammondsport
Upon finishing I felt like I could have run it back for a 200k option. Aside from my sore ankle nothing hurt too badly and I wasn't very tired. That being said, I doubt I could have run the last few sections much faster — my legs were so beat it was hard to pick my feet up on the technical terrain. Walking a quarter-mile to the car wasn't an issue. I was happy to finish in 14:37. In retrospect, sub-14 was a lofty goal given the course difficulty and weather.
Jim Sweeney overcame wet and muddy conditions to better his 2017 course record by two minutes. As for the Empire State Triad, Scott Parr killed it and took the series win with a cumulative time nearly three hours faster than mine. Lizzy Hughes won the Triad for the ladies. (Okay, only six people completed all three races. Hopefully that will increase next year as the series and individual races become more widely known.)
Ultrasignup Results
Aid Station Split Times & Other Numbers For Nerds — another neat feature of TB
Empire State Triad Series Results
The finish line scene was second-to-none. Race Director Scott and Assistant RD Jeff were there to congratulate and get feedback from every runner. Natalie Thompson was serving up some monster veggie burritos along with a bunch of plant-based, whole food side dishes. (I forget exactly what they were, but I remember the food was amazing!) This eliminated my desire to rush back to Ithaca for a burrito before Viva Taqueria closed for the night. All the camping gear from the night before had been delivered to the finish by a volunteer crew, and we all had the option to camp at Champlin Beach for another night. Pamela Scully, LMT, of Bodywork Kneaded, was on hand for massage work that didn't have me yelling in pain. I saw my friend Cory cross the line with his 13-year-old son as his pacer.
I hung around trading stories with other runners and watching people finish. I'd made it to Hammondsport. Then I went home and slept.
***
Scott and his team put on a well-run event with a ton of logistics, and from my experience everything went very smoothly. The volunteers were all very friendly and helpful — even those who'd been waterlogged since 5:00 a.m. Twisted Branch is one I'm definitely looking forward to running again!
"But wait a minute, Pete!! Didn't you forget to write a post about Cayuga Trails, skipping it and going straight to this one? Treason!"
A very astute observation, my dear reader. Kudos for your attention to detail re this blog. I've got something unconventional in the works for my run at Cayuga, but it needs more time. Check back soon.
¹ Rock & Roll Fun Fact: In an early demo of "No Sleep Till Brooklyn" the Beastie Boys had a stanza about Chocolate Cherry Clif Shots as their drug of choice, rapping about how the Shots fueled their sleepless tour until the band returned to the 9-1-7. Rick Rubin insisted energy gels weren't rock n' roll enough and made them change it to beer.²
² Yeah, I completely made that up.
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