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

The Pine Creek Gorge West Rim Trail

I first learned about the Pine Creek Gorge West Rim Trail from Phil Maynard last year after he hiked it with his son over two days. He described it as smooth and fairly fast, unlike most of the technical, rock-strewn singletrack that winds its way through the Pennsylvania Wilds. Phil ran a south to north  FKT on the West Rim earlier this year, which re-piqued my interest in making this adventure run happen.

I'd only been down to the PA Wilds area once, when I ran the Eastern States 100 in 2017. That race covers only a few miles of the West Rim Trail, near the trail's southern end. My friend Amelia and I decided to head down on a weekday to run the trail end-to-end, an impromptu 50k. We drove to Pine Creek Oufitters, an outdoor gear and rental store in Wellsboro near the West Rim's north end. The store offers shuttle rides to the opposite end of the trail (or other drop off points on this and other trails). For us it was $40 for the 30-minute ride. The driver let us park the car at the north terminus parking lot on Colton Road instead of having us leave the car at the store. This way we didn't have to run an extra mile on asphalt at the end to get back to the store. Other possible transportation arrangements include parking a car at each end, or for the more adventurous and multi-sport inclined,

Eastern States 100: The Call Of The Pennsylvania Wilds

[This is Part II of my Eastern States experience. Part I is about the injury and recovery leading up to it and can is found here.] 

There is an ecstasy that marks the summit of life, and beyond which life cannot rise. And such is the paradox of living, this ecstasy comes when one is most alive, and it comes as a complete forgetfulness that one is alive. This ecstasy, this forgetfulness of living, comes to the artists, caught up and out of himself in a sheet of flame; it comes to the soldier, war-mad on a stricken field and refusing quarter. - Jack London, Call of the Wild. 

It was way back in January that I heeded the call of The Wilds and pulled the trigger on Eastern States 100. I could hear those mountains howling my name, taunting me, daring me to commit to this monster of a trail race with 20,000 feet of gain and loss over the steep and rocky trails, historically horrendous weather, and a three-year average finishing rate of something like 33 percent. Upon reading the course description for the umpteenth time, I defiantly left-clicked the mouse, not without an air of bravado, bringing a sense of finality to the question "Am I really stupid enough to pay for an entire weekend of mid-August masochism?" I imagine Jack London was rolling in his grave at that very moment, as his protagonists fared worse than this daily just to survive. Two days later, Eastern States 100 was sold out.

Eastern States has no official affiliation with the Western States 100 other than serving as one of the latter's qualifying races. The top man and top woman each receive an engraved, fully functional wood axe as a prize. 2017 was the fourth year of the race, and interest in the event has been growing annually. I think it's the single-loop format and the overall rugged nature of the course that have made it a hit with ultrarunners. The 103-mile loop traverses the rough and rocky terrain of the PA Wilds—a conglomerate of state-managed parks, forests, and game lands in