Fat Dog Ultra 2024 | 100K Race Report
- Sancho Panza
- Sep 20, 2024
- 13 min read
Updated: Sep 27, 2024
Don Quixote's 100K ultrarunning adventure through Canadian Cascade in rain, hail and thunder
"Devil take me!" I shouted as I watched Senor Don Quixote off in the distance, across the Lighting Lake, screaming about God only knows what; though I had a good idea that it was probably something to do about either knights on errantry, his lady Dulcinea or some evil wicked Moorish phantoms.
As he rounded the lake and came towards the finish line, I saw him being aided by who turned out to be Senior Andre, who had a tight grip on my master to prevent him from falling over as Senor Quixote was swerving and bumbling along like a drunken sailor after running 24 hours through rain, thunder and hail up and down the Canadian Cascades.
"You'll never take me alive, you evil rascal! I, Don Quixote, a Catholic Christian knight in service to my sweet lady Dulcinea, will never surrender and never succumb to your evil schemes, regardless of how many mountain peaks you throw in my way!" furiously shouted my master waving his clinched fist up in the air while being held up and guided across the finish line by Senor Andre. I marveled at the scene and wondered if his mind was completely gone from running all night in the darkness.
"Master, are you alright? Has your grace lost his mind again!?" I asked escorting Don Quixote to a chair. "Just like too little sleep and too much reading had completely dried up your brain and cause you to lose your mind by filling it with fantasies of grandeur, too little sleep and too much running has caused you to lose your mind and hallucinate, seeing and hearing things that are not of this world. Why do you insist on running these ultramarathons that go on for hours and hours?" I asked while gently setting my master into a chair.
According to Don Quixote, the last section of the race, after the Strawberry Flats aid station, which lasted for about 11 miles, was brutal with false peak after false peak, testing patience of runners after they have been out in the wilderness all day and all night long. "Sancho, this section was like a never ending nightmare that dragged on and on and on...It started out as a gradual climb up through a mountain pass for about 5 miles then quickly changed to reveal its true wicked nature, taking runners through multiple sharp and intense false peaks along the mountain top. True peak did not reveal itself until runners were thoroughly frustrated!"
I first bid farewell to my master 24 hours ago at the start of the race. About 160 runners gather to start on an epic journey across the Manning Park, which is located about 1 hour east of Vancouver, British Columbia. Immediately after the start (7:30 AM), no more than few minutes into running, the course made a sharp left turn and took runners into an ascending narrow single trail track. The narrowness of the trail made it very difficult to pass other runners so Don Quixote, like other runners, was stuck in a long line of runners. Here, I said my goodbye to my master and made my way to Blackwall aid station (42 miles) to wait for his arrival.
"Sancho, the first couple sections of the race wasn't too demanding, especially with a fresh set of legs," noted Don Quixote. "After the initial climb that lasted for short couple miles and about 1,000 feet of elevation gain on a very well maintained single track, the trail turned into a nice descent to the Cayuse Flats aid station (3.7 miles) before climbing again gradually to Grainger Creek aid station (at 7.9 miles). The first two aid stations were about 4 miles apart so I was able to quickly reach these aid stations. After Grainger Creek, the remoteness of the race made the next three aid stations much further apart, averaging close to 10 miles between each of the three aid stations. "
While heading to the Hope Pass aid station (17.5 miles) after Grainger Creek, on a long and grinding uphill trail, my master noticed that the weather was turning foul with clouds forming up above and rumbling sounds of thunder off in the distance. By this time, Senor Quixote was out in the wilderness for few hours so fatigue, hunger and elements were starting to warp his mind and turn every slight incline of the trail into a triumph climb up a castle wall, every encounter with a wildlife a fierce battle with a giant or Cyclops and every meeting with a runner an opportunity to pontificate about lady Dulcinea who must be eagerly and anxiously waiting for him to return and present himself before her so that she can hear about all the good deeds my master did on the king's highway in her honor.
"So there I was, Sancho," started Senor Quixote. "I was gallantly going up a hill heading towards Hope Pass with rumbling sounds off in the distance. I first thought this might be a start of some evil scheme started by a foolish spirit designed to impede good, noble knight on his quest to right injustices, but this thought quickly vanished from my mind because I knew from reading many books about errantry that no evil enchanter would dare start a wicked scheme against a knight errant as long as the knight holds firmly to a token of love given to him by his lady" said Don Quixote while taking out a clump of hair out of his pocket. "See this, Sancho! This is a piece of my sweet lady Dulcinea's lock of hair, her token of love, given to me by her when she begged me, with tears running down her cheeks, to promise her that I will return this token of love back to her when I return alive after vanquishing all the evils in her honor."
Now, I might be a simple peasant who doesn't know how to count beyond 20, but I know hair from a donkey or a horse when I see it! In fact, the clump of hair my master was holding was from Rocinante, half-starved horse that Don Quixote has deemed his noble steed. My master, during one of his wild episodes of mad delusion, must have thought that clump of hair belonged to lady Dulcinea and kept it.
"Your grace, how can that clump of hair be from lady Dulcinea? She is so far far away and we left our village many moons ago. Looks to me that clump of hair is from your horse Rocinante. Don't you remember ordering me wash and comb the horse just couple days ago? Also, that clump of hair you are holding is white, but lady Duclinea has black hair!" I said to Don Quixote.
My master, seemingly annoyed by me pointing out his delusion, rather than regain his lost mind, punched me in my face and ordered me to go fetch him a hot cup of coffee. I went and did as ordered and when I returned Senor Quixote was telling history to runners who were sitting around him:
"So my good sirs, I persevered up the mountain towards Hope Pass despite growing clouds blocking the sun, thus turning temperature colder, and showing early signs of rain. Near the top, just as I climbed out of the dense evergreen forest, the weather turned more foul and it started to hail heavily! I thought this surely must be the work of an evil enchanter because how could it be that the hail started perfectly on time, the moment that I got out of the forest so that trees would not provide any cover from the elements? Undeterred, I said a little prayer to my sweet lady Dulcinea to give me the strength to carry on. Well sirs, my lady answered my prayer because after that moment, the trail leveled off and I was able to run through a nice meadow to the Hope Pass aid station."
Senor Quixote continued: "After Hope Pass came Nicomen aid station (25.7 miles) that's located near a lake. On the way to Nicomen, the hail had turned to heavy rain so I took refuge at the aid station, underneath a tent, for a bit longer than I wanted. After few minutes though, I decided to press on despite heavy rain so I would not waste time waiting for the rain to stop.
"Immediately after the aid station, there was a long and steep incline up a mountain to reach 7,000 feet high alpine meadow. It was a very long and slow climb in a heavy rain. But if I may add, my good sirs, I believe this was the best section of the race as I was rewarded with majestic views of the surrounding mountains as I climbed the mountain, eventually coming up on a ridge that gave a breathtaking panoramic view of what seems to be the entire Canadian Cascades!" Don Quixote stated.
"Yes, I remember this pass very well, Senor Quixote!", a runner listening said. "This was a very hard section of the race with intense climb up the mountain in a heavy rain and thunder but it was definitely worth it with breathtaking view of the mountain range every step of the way. If I were to add something, though, I would caution future runners about the last mile or so where well maintained single track ends and runners have to navigate up to the peak climbing on uneven trail with sharp rocks, making the journey treacherous, especially during the rain as it made the rocks and ground slippery," he continued.
Other runners listening to the story all nodded in agreement and continued to nod along as he noted how the last section could give someone with height phobia a real challenge as the final climb was on a sharp and narrow section and a false step could cause one to slip and tumble down a very steep mountain side.
After the peak, the trail took the runners through a beautiful rolling alpine meadow for few miles. While on the meadow, heavy rain stopped so Don Quixote was able to run along on a well maintained single track for few miles to Heather aid station (41.9 miles) while continuing to enjoy the majestic landscape of the Canadian Cascades.
The section from Heather to Blackwall aid station (41.9 miles) had lot of downhills so my master was able to pick up some time during this 6.5 mile stretch. I met him at this aid station about 14 hours after we said our goodbye at the start.
"Your grace, how are you feeling?" I asked ushering him into the aid station tent.
"Sancho, my friend, I feel well and fine. If you recall, I noted that if I were to get to the Blackwall aid station relatively in good shape, then I thought that I could complete the race as the most of the grueling parts of the course, like those 10 mile stretch in between aid stations from Grainger Creek (7.9 miles) to Heather aid station (35.4 miles) were done. And I feel that I am in good spirit and in good shape now despite cold and rain so feel that I could complete the course without much problem," said Don Quixote as I changed him into a fresh pair of socks and shoes. After, I fed him two large cups of ramen noodle (500 calories per!) so he could regain his strength.
By the time when my master was leaving for the Windy Joe's aid station (48. miles), the night has fallen so I said a silent prayer to the Holy One to keep him safe through the night as I watched the Knight of Sorrowful Face disappear into a dark forest.
The section to Windy Joe's was relatively easy as most of the section (6.6 miles and 3,300ft descent) was on a long and descending pave road with many service vehicles going back and forth. My master, like other runners, was able to jog the most of the section and gain valuable time in the process.
After Windy Joe's came Strawberry Flats aid station (53.5 miles), which was about 5 miles with 1,000 feet of elevation gain from Windy Joe's. This was a manageable section as it was a slow grind up and elevation gains were spread out evenly across 5 miles on a nice and well maintained single track.
But the race had a little surprise hidden for my master as the last section of the race, lasting for about 11 miles with over 3,100ft of gains, mostly coming in the first 5 to 6 miles, proved to be very challenging both physically and mentally with several false peaks testing Senor Quixote's endurance and patience, with each false peak crushing his hope little harder than the last. After hours and hours of relentless climb going up a mountain pass aided by a single headlamp as a guide, my master was rapidly losing his strength and poise, even screaming out a loud cry out of frustration. And when your mind becomes overburdened, mad delusion takes over and Senor Don Quixote completely lost his mind and senses on that dark forest trail.
"...never sufficiently praise glorious Senor knight Don Quixote de la Mancha..."
In his delusional state, he thought that flies, mosquitoes and other bugs buzzing around him were spells casted by an evil enchanter who's schemes have brought many pain and suffering. He began to swing his hiking poles wildly about as if they were his battle axe and club, trying to swat the bugs, yelling: "You evil rascal! How dare you try to impede a pious Catholic Christian knight in his quest to right all manners of wrongs!"
He was so convinced of his imagination that he was finally in a fierce combat worthy of his delusional fame that he continued to shout on the dark forest trail:
"My brother Sancho, this is the day when the good fortune that destiny has hidden from me will be revealed! This is the day when my valor will be heroically proved and I will perform great deeds that will be chronicled in the book of Fame for the whole world to read. And once all the kings across this world hears about my courage they will surely grant me countless favors, including a governorship of an island or dry-land kingdom, which I will bestow upon you since a brave knight like myself cannot be burdened by such thing as a governorship when there's so much injustices in this world for me to right!"
More he swung, more mad he became, which caused him to swing his hiking poles even more wildly. He swung his pole so hard that it caused him to lose his balance and he fell on the ground. Luckily for my master, Senor Andre was few paces ahead of him and seeing his wild antic he quickly came by to check on Don Quixote: "Senor, are you ok? Why are you yelling and swinging your poles like a mad man?"
My master, having regained a bit of his composure but certainly not his sanity, picked himself off the ground partially and on his knee looked up at the runner and saw a bright headlamp light beaming straight into his eyes. In his fully delusional state, Don Quixote thought the other runner, with a single light beam shining directly into his eyes, was a giant Cyclops, who was sent by a Moorish phantom to defeat him in combat; with this thought in mind, he said to himself:
"If I, because of my past sins or because of my good fortune, come across an adventure, as ordinarily befalls knight errants, to prove myself worthy and I defeat him with a single blow and conquer and defeat him, I promised that I will surely send him to my sweet lady Dulcinea so that he may fall to his knees before her and say in the humble voice of surrender: 'I, lady, am a giant Cyclops sent to defeat Don Quixote by an evil Moorish enchanter, but failed in my attempt and was defeated in single combat by never sufficiently praised glorious Senor Knight Don Quixote de la Mancha, who commanded me to appear before your ladyship so that your highness can dispose of me as you wish.'"
Oh how sweet and pleased was my master when he reminisced about the vow he made when starting on his errantry, thinking he finally has an adventure worthy of his deranged fame! Don Quixote thought back to his books of chivalry that he had read and remembered how a knight in combat would call out to his lady in the heat of battle to give him courage and strength. So, he called out to his sweet lady Dulcinea: "Oh my lady, who's beauty has no peer and who's grace knows no bounds, I ask thee to give me the strength to right the injustice that I have just suffered so that I may redress wrongs in this world in your honor!"
Senor Andre, having heard all these gobbledygook wondered if he's dealing with a runner who's suffering from hallucination or simply a slow-witted dunce who got lost in a forest. "Senor, who is this lady Dulcinea that you speak of? There's no one here but us two. Please stand and let me help you to reach the finish as we only have few more miles to go!" Don Andre said while turning off his headlamp as it's customary for runners to block or turn off the light from headlamp when facing others as to not blind them.
Without the light from headlamp beaming straight into his eyes, my master was able to see Senor Andre's face and realized that he's not a giant Cyclops but a fellow runner whom he saw at previous aid stations. But, continuing in his mad delusion, Don Quixote thought that this might be a deception by an evil sorcerer and not wanting to fall into a trickery too easily, Don Quixote thought that he would test him to see if he's bounded by the truth or capable of telling lies. My master asked: "My good sir, in order to continue, you must confess that there's no one more worthy of a title Lady, no one more worthy of admiration and no more more worthy of God's grace than my sweet lady Dulcinea, she of peerless beauty that even Helen of Troy would be ashamed to show herself in her presence. What say you?"
Senor Andre looked at my master with a bewilder looked and thought how hours and hours of fatigue, hunger, rain and cold in the wilderness must have made this man into a mad man. And not wanting to argue with a mad man in a middle of a mountain forest in the dark, he thought that it would be best to play along with his mad delusion and responded: "Yes, I have heard about the beauty and grace of lady Duclinea that you speak of. Why don't we reach the top of this mountain together so that your excellency can basked in a beautiful sunrise while thinking about her. Surely, she would be in awe and fall more madly in love, if that's even possible, with your grace when she hears about the sunrise that you witnessed while thinking of her after you have conquered the majestic Canadian Cascade!"
"Very well, my good sir. I see that you speak the truth now. May God's grace shine upon you and you are worthy to lead me to the finish," said Don Quixote and followed Senor Andre through few more demoralizing false peaks before they finally reach the mountain top. There, they took a rest and marveled at the beauty of God's creation.
Decent down from the peak was bit technical with large rocks, stones and tree roots for the first couple miles but the trail eventually turned into a nice descending single track all the way down to Lighting Lake, at which point you could look across the lake and see the finish.
From Don Quixote:
This was a fun 100K despite Fat Dog's notorious reputation as being a hard ultra. Most of the trails were very well maintained so provided runners with many runnable sections.
I think the key to the race is to get to the Blackwall aid station (42 miles) in a relatively good shape. After Blackwall, it's only 20 miles to the finish and except for the last section, from Strawberry Flats to the Finish, lot of it is runnable. Save your strength and mental game for the last section though because it's like a never ending nightmare that just goes on and on and on: relentless climb in the dark and once you reach the mountain top you'll still be faced with several false peaks to test your patience.
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