The Hyner Trail Challenge : Socialism, Bigfoot Pens, and One Big S.O.B.

The Hyner Trail Challenge is aptly described as a northeast "classic" race. The event has been around since 2009 and annually draws one of the largest fields of any trail race in the region. Like all races, the Covid-19 pandemic threw a wrench in the works for 2021. UltraSignup lists 267 finishers in the 50k and—get this—811 in the 25k in the 2019 results, not including DNFs. Other recent years show similar numbers, with over 1,000 finishers in the 25k alone in 2015. The demand for this race is insane, as are the logistics of managing that many runners on such a challenging and remote course. The race is held every April, with registration for the following year opening on May 1. As you can guess, it sells out immediately, almost a full year in advance. 

The main attraction along the course is Hyner View—a point overlooking the Susquehanna River and the PA-120 bridge 1,300 feet below, along with the surrounding forested hills. The viewpoint itself is a rectangular stone structure built by CCC workers during the Great Depression. 50k and 25k runners reach this viewpoint around mile 4 as they crest the first big hill just after its steepest slope, all the while reaping the benefits of American socialism at its finest. 

That view of the Susquehanna was two years in the making. I registered for the 2020 race on May 1, 2019—the day registration opened. Even then I had to spend a few weeks in waitlist limbo before gaining entry. This was before we knew that Hayley was due with twins in March 2020. After learning the baby news, running Hyner in April of 2020 was most definitely a no go. Then Covid struck and the race date was push back before ultimately being cancelled altogether. When RD Craig Fleming announced

in early 2021 that this year's race was on, I found myself with a deferred entry and the opportunity to run my first ultra in over a year. 

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The two-plus-hour drive down to Renovo, Pennsylvania, took longer than I'd expected and I was worried about not having much time to grab my bib, stretch my legs, and walk to the starting line. But instead of a stressful pre-race frenzy I was rewarded by the lot attendants with a parking spot only 50 feet from the start/finish blowup arch. Talk about impeccable timing. 

"Hyner View Trail Challenge 50k #1133". Pinning on a piece of paper emblazoned with these words was like a massive breath of fresh air. Trail and ultra racing was back, at least in a limited capacity, and I was trained, lined up, and ready to go. 

Before I knew it I was running opening road mile at a low-7 pace over the West Branch Susquehanna, trying to avoid the inevitable bottleneck when a few hundred runners turn onto the trail for the first uphill slog. I'd seen the photos and wanted to avoid a logjam. Success. Before long, the first 30-40 of us were spread out over the winding, rocky trail through Hyner View State Park. I felt strong and completely dialed in as I made good time up the first mini climb followed by the first major climb up to the Hyner View overlook. 

The overlook is the spot where all of the race's iconic photos are taken—runners power hiking up the hill's steepest slope with the river valley and staging area far, far below. From here, I ran 3 miles along a plateau while the fatigue from the monster climb dissipated gradually. I cruised along the lumpy trail, elated to be out in the woods with 250 strangers on such a beautiful morning! 

Following this first plateau, the course drops 1,300 feet down a rocky, technical trail over 2.5 miles. Technical descents are not my forte, and I knew the downhill would trash my legs perniciously if I tried to mimic Zach Miller with almost a marathon to go. I picked my way nimbly down to Hyner Run State Park, where I was treated to an ice-cold creek crossing and a triple shot of Coca Cola before starting the next big climb. 

The climb out of Hyner Run was much more gradual than the initial uphill to Hyner View. I was able to run most of this, while taking brief, intermittent walk breaks when my legs got heavy. Many of the other runners walked the whole thing and I found myself passing dudes who'd smoked me on the rocky downhill. The 2 miles up to the next plateau passed quickly and almost effortlessly, and before I knew it I was cruising through familiar terrain that overlapped with the middle miles of Eastern States. The short, steep slopes along the Fye Camp Trail, the "bigfoot pen", the Mill Hollow Trail's smooth singletrack—an eerie whiff of nostalgia passed as I recalled traversing this stretch just before sundown halfway through the 2017 Eastern States 100. That race was far beyond epic. I found myself pining for the full ES100 experience while setting foot on its course for the first time in four years. 

Even in April the Hyner trails were almost 100 percent dry. Crossing the plateau portions in a straight shot of singletrack over dry, crunchy leaves gave the event a vibe normally felt in September races. I didn't expect to be able to open up the pace so much, but there was plenty of smooth, fast trail ripe for cruising. 

We reached an aid station at the Couger Hollow Trail intersection and ran a 4-mile loop on the northernmost part of the course. This loop comprised a plethora of switchbacks so sharp it was hard to get into a good rhythm on the fast downhills. I'd have to watch carefully for the course flags and slamming on the breaks at all the hairpin turns to avoid careening downhill and off the trail like an errant ping-pong ball. The series of uphill switchbacks were just as tight, but at hiking and jogging pace it was easy going. The last mile of the north loop was down an old, smooth logging road, which gave me time to relax and reset.

Back over the plateau and through the "bigfoot pen" That brought me to the race's crux—the oh-so-aptly-monikered S.O.B. 

You reach this monstrosity at mile 25 and ascend more than 600 feet in half a mile, with the grade getting gradually steeper the closer you get to the top. From the bottom you can look up a large, cleared-out slope to see runners crossing the clearing a second time just before the trail flattens out. The last few hundred meters are at a 40% incline over loose dirt with nothing much to grab onto with your hands. Reach the final aid station at the summit and then you're home free. And yep, 25k runners get to tackle the S.O.B. too!

I reached the base of the climb still feeling good and got into a steady power hiking rhythm made somewhat more difficult by having to squeeze around the back-of-the-pack 25k'ers on narrow trails. My calves' screaming increased in amplitude the higher I got, and by the time I reached the final stretch it was most efficient to crawl up with my hands in the dry, dusty dirt. 

I rolled into the aid station almost fully depleted. The last leg is almost all down hill, with two miles down a rocky 6% slope. My quads and glutes were pulverized, and I've never been a good technical downhill runner, so I got passed by a few people on the final bit of trail. Sweet relief when I finally left the trail for asphalt to recross the Susquehanna and jog tenderly through the finish line arch. After all this I realized how lucky I was to arrive late and nab that close parking spot. 

6,500 feet of ascent and 6,500 feet of descent left my legs a bit banged up, but I recovered rather quickly after two weeks of easy running at reduced volume. Hyner, with all of its cumulative vert, was a little out of my wheelhouse since I don't have these steep trails to train on around Ithaca. On paper Hyner is probably the most difficult 50k I've done, but I came in prepared and paced myself well. (Full results.)

After more than a year of event cancellations it was so refreshing to get back into the ultrarunning scene at a large-scale race. Thanks to race director Craig Fleming and the PA Trail Dogs for providing a challenge that's worth the view!