Wonderland Trail Trip Report
Overall Time: 29:12:15
Cumulative Elevation Gain: 25,410
Cumulative Elevation Loss: 25,381
Calories Burned: Apprx. 15,000
Ascent Time: 14:38:56
Descent Time: 12:01:02
Flat Time: 02:32:17
*Disclaimer: The Wonderland Trail is known for being 93 miles long. While I completed the trail point to point, my mileage came out different - it could be navigation error, GPS inaccuracy, or the force of God, but for the sake of consistency I'm writing on what my watch reported. If you don't like it, feel free to go run it and let me know what you come back with.
It’s taken me a few weeks following my finish of this run to settle back into my normal health, and to begin to process all of the information and experiences I took in over my 29 or so hours on the trail. The vision for this undertaking started 3 years ago - I listened to a “Dirtbag Diaries” podcast talking about Chad Kellogg’s “Infinity Loop” (shameless foreshadowing to next seasons objective), and heard for the first time of someone running this trail in entirety, in a single push.
My initial plan was to run the trail in 3 days, and have support crew with camping gear and resupply stops along the way. I pitched the idea to a couple of friends, but nothing really stuck. Over the course of 3 years, the idea morphed into running the trail with a partner, supported, meaning we would have pacers and aid supplies as often as possible. As the date moved closer, all of my pacers became unable to come out for the run, as did my running partner, leaving me to do the trail solo, supported.
Eric and Kendra, two good friends who often humor me by joining unnecessarily masochistic exploits in the mountains, had agreed to be my support crew earlier in the year, however, once I lost my pacers, I talked them into pacing for me on the 2 short sections of the trail (and got them out for a handful of trail runs prior as well).
Pre-Race:
Eric and Kendra met me in Issaquah on Friday night, 12 hours before I was set to start. I had spent the two days prior at my Uncle’s house near Seattle, organizing gear, buying last minute supplies, and calculating caloric content of all of my running snacks before I divided them up into bags with enough calories for each section. The goal here is 200 calories/hour, but like many things in ultra running, this doesn’t always go according to plan. We all went to bed around 11pm and what felt like minutes later, we were packing the food, gear, and cooler into the car and heading towards the White River Campground.
I decided to run the trail counter-clockwise from White River for a number of reasons -
I wanted to get the two beefier sections of trail done while I was still coherent
I knew that having 2 shorter, paced sections after being alone in the dark for a long while would be very much needed
I had heard that the final section of trail - although one of the hardest parts - would be one of the most beautiful, and hitting it in the morning would be my best time to do so
We got to the White River rangers station a little before 7 to fill a permit. When I told the ranger what I was planning, she gave me a very puzzled look and asked where I was planning to sleep. I told her I wasn’t, that this was a single push - and instead of the warnings of bears and other wildlife I heard other tourists getting, she simply told me “If you decide you want to sleep, just make sure you lay down right on the trail”. I locked that advice away to memory and bid farewell to the park rangers. It didn’t take long after pulling into the campground and gearing up for most of my nerves to settle. I’d been waiting a long time to be there, and I just wanted to get started.
I set my tracking on my watch and on my InReach, snapped a few photos with Eric and Kendra, gave hugs, and hit my start timer.
08:45AM. I was off.
Section 1:
White River to Mowich Lake
Split: 25.48 Miles - 5:51:34
The climb from White River up to Sunrise is not one to take lightly. Despite the grueling start, I was excited, feeling fresh, and enjoying what views I could - the weather was about 50 degrees and very foggy. I got up and over the first climb fairly quickly, making sure to be mindful to take in 100 calories every 30 minutes (if there’s one thing that makes time fly, its forced eating). The trail gives way to high alpine meadows and large talus fields.
These sections were amazing because you could see the trail stretch out before you and wind through the landscape. The fog was thinning, but I still didn’t have eyes on the mountain. A lot of the first part of this section, while beautiful, was not locked away to memory. With so much ground to cover, it’s hard to label any one part as more beautiful than another. I was settling into my groove and there were very few people around. I eventually passed a ranger and a couple of hikers who asked me what I was up to. I shared my plans, showed my permit, and was once again on my way.
When I was leaving the trailhead to start the run, I was warned by a thru-hiker that there was a trail detour at Ipsut Creek, and that I should keep an eye out for it if I wanted to avoid any extra miles. By the time I got there, around 20 miles into this section, I remembered the warning - but not before I tacked on an extra 15 minutes of running (on the bright side, I got to run across the suspension bridge - twice).
I kept an eye on my watch and knew that I was getting close to finishing this part of the trail. I was doing good on time, had minimal stops and issues, and had been taking in more than 200 calories/hour. Climbing up out of the valley to Mowich Lake, I ran into some fairly severe cramping in my legs. I hadn’t packed any pickle juice shots (my favorite salt delivery method) with me, and all I could do was laugh at how inefficiently my legs wanted to work. I broke out my trekking poles and drove on.
I came into Mowich lake around 2:35pm, and caught Eric and Kendra by surprise. None of us had expected me to be over an hour ahead of schedule, but I tried not to give it much thought - I didn’t want to get too excited this early into the run.
After getting restocked on food and water, I sat long enough to eat a sandwich, chug a ginger ale and throw on some clean socks. Eric jogged with me back to the trail and wished me luck, and I got a few inquisitive looks from strangers who were trying to figure out what I was up to. I tried to soak in the presence of other people as best I could before I headed back out into the relative solitude of the trail.
Section 2:
Mowich Lake to Longmire
Split: 36.88 Miles - 10:27:10
Overall: 62.36 Miles - 16:18:44
When I left Mowich Lake, I was still feeling light, fresh, and ready to take all the trail could throw at me. A big descent lead to a big climb lead to a bigger descent and a bigger climb. I was enjoying better afternoons views as the sun started peeking out and breaking up some of the cloud cover. I did my best not to stop much, but a few ridge-line views warranted selfies and some halfhearted attempts at panoramas. The trail was staying fairly agreeable, though as I headed down into yet another valley I took a mental note to stop and refill my water as I was 15 miles into a 30+ mile unsupported section. I topped off 2 liters of water at a creek with my steripen and paused long enough to down a bag of cheezits and some chex mix.
Starting up the next climb, I started to feel my emotional walls start breaking down. It’s been said that running 100 miles is like experiencing life in a day - that the array of emotions you go through is the gambit of what you will experience in your lifetime. A lot of this, in my opinion, has to do with the fact that you’re exhausted, mildly delusional, and alone for long periods of time. Nonetheless, I noticed myself starting to think about the things that mattered to me and feeling the tears well up, but I quickly shook it off. It’s a wild and vulnerable experience, but I think we seek out these kinds of self challenge for that very reason. You spend a lot of time getting to know yourself - your capabilities, your limits - or lack thereof.
As I crested the top of the climb, I turned around to soak in an incredible sight. The sun was setting, and warm alpenglow was settling onto a now exposed Mt. Rainier (it’s hard to say for sure, but I believe I was looking onto Mowich Glacier). I snuck a smile onto my face as I turned and continued on.
I was able to snag a few more miles before turning on my headlamp - and subsequently coming upon a pair of black bears. I opted not to bring bear spray in order to save weight, and I was immediately regretting my decision. They were curious, but not aggressive. I played some music on my phone on full volume, and started singing along at the top of my lungs. A short detour through a dry lakebed got me past them without issue. The incident left me on edge however and I kept my music playing all the way to Longmire. I continued on into the night trying to ignore the wildlife, keeping my head down and focusing on the trail beneath me. Nutrition was starting to go out the window at this point, and I stopped once or twice to force myself to eat and drink - my body felt like it was going into self preservation mode, I was starting to hurt.
I rolled into Longmire after what seemed like a lifetime alone in the dark. I had passed a couple of tents and campsites with sleeping hikers, but never actually saw anyone for a solid 7 hours. I spotted Eric and Kendra’s Subaru - they had left a lantern on atop the car so that I wouldn’t miss it, and I couldn’t have been happier.
Eric hopped up and out of the car without skipping a beat and gave me a hug - to say I was emotional was an understatement, but it was overshadowed by the joy from sitting down in a chair. I swapped out my sweaty gear for a new set of nutrition and socks, ate a cup of noodles, and downed a ginger ale. Kendra and I briefly discussed strategy for the next short section that she would be joining me on.
At this point, my left ankle was really starting to bother me, but I was afraid to check it. Aside from that, my overall feel was pretty solid - and I was excited to finally have some company.
Section 3:
Longmire to Reflection Lake
Split: 6.51 Miles - 02:16:02
Overall: 68.87 Miles - 18:34:46
The mood was chipper as Kendra and I started off from Longmire. I knew I had run farther than I ever had at that point, still had some gas in the tank, and was on a 6 mile uphill section, giving my quads some much needed relief. We kept the conversation light, and Kendra did an amazing job distracting my from my throbbing ankle. Kendra mentioned how much better she felt to have me running with her, but for me it was the other way around. I cannot emphasize enough how nice it was to have company in the dark - running solo through the night, its very easy to dive into a wild array of thought, and forget where you are or what you’re doing. The respite was welcome.
We got into Reflection lake and made a quick turnover for the next section. I let Eric and Kendra know that I was going to be taping up my ankle, needed them to force me to eat something, and just wanted to get out onto the trail as fast as possible. Likening us to a NASCAR pit crew would be an overstatement, not that I’m not extremely proud of how awesome Eric and Kendra are at being support crew - but when you’ve been running for 18 and a half hours, no amount of rest feels long enough.
Section 4:
Reflection Lake to Box Canyon
Split: 7.24 Miles - 02:33:42
Overall: 76.11 Miles - 21:08:28
When Eric and I started onto the next segment - an all downhill section, I was headed into a mental pit. I knew from the get-go and reminded myself along the way, that there would be highs and lows during all of this. That reality hit me hard in the face as we headed to Box Canyon. My quads and knees were hurting badly, my left achilles tendon was out of commission, and I hadn’t been caught up on calories since around mile 60. I knew my feet were swollen, my trail shoes are sized up over a full size from my normal running shoes, and I could feel my toenails pounding into the ends of the shoe.
More time than I would care to admit was spent walking and shuffling through this section of trail. I told myself that I was saving what energy I had for the final section, and trying not to think about the milage I still had left. Eric was doing his best to combat my drained demeanor, motivating me and distracting me by asking about my future plans. I wasn’t having any of it. The best way I can describe how I felt, is that I was simultaneously running (I use that term very generously here) and actively falling asleep. The ginger ale, hot soup, and sleeping bag were looming in my mind at the end of the section. At the end of the day, that was enough to keep me moving forward.
Eventually, the hell of the downhill came to an end, and I slumped into my camp chair while Kendra fired up the stove. I can’t speak for how Eric felt, but I’m willing to bet that it was better than I did. I wrapped a sleeping bag around me and felt myself nodding off as I sipped on some soup. Eric woke me up, warning that I didn’t want to spill it, and that I should probably keep moving. I didn't care. I didn’t want to do anything. I was tired, I was hungry, and everything hurt. All I wanted in the world was to sleep.
I snapped awake again and before I had time to settle back into that comfort, I rattled off some mental motivation to myself. I hadn’t come this far to come this far. I was already in pain, already hurt, it was time to get a reward for it.
I grabbed my resupplied vest and threw it on, bundled up to fight the cold of the dawn, and set off to finish. I waved goodbye to my friends, trying not to think about the time between then and when I would see them again.
Section 5:
Box Canyon to White River
Split: 26.06 Miles - 08:02:16
Overall: 102.17 Miles - 29:10:46
Heading out from Box Canyon, trail users are greeted with a marvelously heinous climb. The next nearly 8 miles are spent climbing up what seems like a never ending pass, before descending, ascending, and finally descending again into Indian Bar Campground. 4 miles into this climb however, I promised myself that when I reached the next flat spot, I would stop to sleep. I was burnt. Fried. Chundered. Any word synonymous with exhaustion, I was feeling it. I reminded myself that I was supposed to sleep on the trail, and when I crested the next hill, I pulled off my vest, laid down, and set an alarm for 30 minutes. I cannot describe to you how wonderful that sleep felt. 10 minutes into my slumber I woke up to heavy breathing and decided to get moving ASAP. I threw on my vest and started running - I felt like a new man, who knew 10 minutes of sleep could be so effective?
After a few strides my brain started analyzing the wild animal that had been sneaking up on me, and I realized pretty quickly that I had been woken by my own snoring. I laughed at the situation, and kept climbing. (This far into the event, you realize that you realize only have two options - you can get upset, which doesn’t do any good, or you can laugh at your own misery…I spent a good amount of time laughing at myself)
Eventually I found myself descending into Indian Bar and was welcomed with one of the most spectacular views I have ever had the pleasure of experiencing. A glacial stream cuts its way for miles down this canyon, winding through alpine meadows with rich colors. An old stone cabin sits just off the trail at the descent into Indian Bar, and my only thought was how badly I would love to come and camp here - to share this with loved ones. I reminded myself not to waste too much time, I still had a ways to go.
My mind started spotting the trail, and the climb that I still had in front of me. I stopped, forced myself to stuff down a turkey sandwich - the first food I had in 3 hours, and then began my slow crawl out of the canyon. It was on this climb that I started seeing hikers that I had on the previous day, heading in the opposite direction. Hearing the excitement for me in their voices gave me renewed energy, and I knew that I was nearing the end of this journey.
I dropped down into Summerland after traversing a few snow patches, and began to encounter a growing number of hikers. A few stopped and asked me what I was doing - I’m sure I looked haggard and beaten down by that point, though more than a few probably thought I was just pretty out of shape. As I crawled my way down into Flapjack Campground, I passed a man who had remembered me from the day before. He was hooting and cheering, he high fived me and told me how stoked he was to see me finishing. It could be my delirium by that point, but hearing that from a stranger made me want to cry tears of joy, and I nearly hugged him right then and there. I knew I was about to end this adventure, and went on.
By the time I got to Flapjack Campground, I figured I would be only a few hundred yards from my finish. After a look at my watch I quickly realized that I was well beyond the anticipated 93 miles that I had planned on, and was about to break 100. The trail went on, and so did I. I passed a man and asked him for the distance to White River. He gave me a puzzled look. “Didn’t I see you yesterday at Ipsut Creek?”
He pointed me on my way, and I charged my way forward. Around the 90 mile mark I started hallucinating with increasing frequency and intensity. As I worked my way through this section, I kept seeing ranger cabins, rabbits that turned into logs, and suspension bridges just off the trail in the woods. I noted mentally that one of my goals for this season was to hit the point of exhaustion that induced hallucination, but I was way too tired to care.
My frustration with the trail not being over quickly gave way to excitement as I found myself crossing the river and climbing up to the campground. Somewhere within me I found the energy to start jogging, and I finished the trail at a steady clip. Eric and Kendra were there to greet me with hugs as I kiss the Wonderland Trail sign, and my brother and his girlfriend handled the celebratory champagne.
I was too tired to do anything other than sit down and smile. I broke down some barriers, accomplished the trail (though, not quite as fast as I had hoped), and made it out in one piece. I gave myself a few minutes of rest before I allowed my singular thought that I knew would come at this point.
“Now onto the next objective.”
Post-Run:
The days following the run were filled with very sore muscles, an incredibly swollen ankle, and a metric shit-load of calories being put into my body in any delivery method I could find. My watched pegged it at somewhere around 15,000 calories burned.
I tried not to think too much about what had just happened, I knew that it would take a fair amount of time and self reflection to really let what I had finished sink in. In a way, it still hasn’t. Nonetheless, I’ve been working on this trip report, and begun planning my winter training and the logistics for the next events.
I wanted to finish this off by thanking everyone who helped me get to where I am, to be able to accomplish something like this, and to get to the point where this is just the beginning.
To Eric and Kendra Roe, two of my best friends who, despite any normal persons logic or reasoning, continue to agree to come out and support/crew for me on these runs. Thank you to all of my running partners, my coach, family, and friends - all of you gave me inspiration and strength, often without even realizing it. And thank you to Karl Gorecki - who got me into this stupid sport in the first place.
And thank you to anyone who had the drive to make it through to the end of this report - you guys are the real endurance athletes.
Nick. Congrats. I'm chundered. I'm gonna take a nap. Maybe I'll dream of bears and fog and rabbity logs. And kudos on your writing, and the pics!
Way to go!! Thanks for reminding us all never to underestimate the power we have
within.