Mountain Lakes 100 2025
In February of 2024, I ran the Black Canyon 100K just north of Phoenix, AZ. The race is a point-to-point that runs a well established trail through the aptly named Black Canyon. I took a shuttle to the start line, where I sat next to a man that introduced himself and shared that he was from Oregon. We swapped stories on the ride up and he had a lot of great things to say about the Mountain Lakes 100 which ran on the Pacific Crest Trail (PCT), south of Mount Hood. A year later when I was looking for races for 2025, Mountain Lakes quickly became a front runner. My ideal race would be in September to give me the summer to train, not be at high elevation, and I wanted something easy to get to from Denver. This race checked a lot of boxes, so I signed up and started training back in March. Shortly after that, my wife managed to plan a family reunion in Oregon. This meant the kids would be coming along and I'd run the race the first weekend and we would meet the rest of her family in Hood River for the week.
Training went will with one minor hiccup - while summiting Mount Julian in Rocky Mountain National Park in July, I jumped from one rock to a nearby ledge and my left big toe took the brunt of the weight when I landed. I noticed a pain immediately after, but was about halfway into an 7 hour day. I finished the run and spent the next week limping from that one move. It turned out to be just a sprain, but it was enough for me to take a week off of running and back out of a the Sheep Mountain 50 Mile race. I saw a physical therapist who gave me some things to try and suggested ramping back up, and things seemed improved by late August. I decided to try a DIY 50 mile around some local trails to see how things felt. I noticed the toe, but I wasn't limping or in much pain, so I decided to stick with Mountain Lakes and see what happened. I added 30 minutes to my expected finish time (from 26 hours 30 minutes to 27 hours flat) and looked forward to the race.
Our flight landed on time in Portland near 1PM and we had an easy time getting through the airport and to the rental car. Except for installing the car seats in the car… that seems to get harder every time I do it. Before long, we left for Government Camp with a pit stop at Walmart to get supplies for the weekend. I hugged my daughter Layla before the grandparents put her to bed and she said she would miss me. I told her we would spend a fun week together after and she was going to get ice cream with her grandparents tomorrow. This turned her around, and she said "I think I'll run a 30 mile race tomorrow too." I love her enthusiasm!
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| Mount Hood and Mount Jefferson from our plane, the bookends of Mountain Lakes 100. I am coming back to climb these one day! |
The race started at 8AM on Saturday, 9/20. Government Camp was maybe 80 minutes from the start, so Calli and I planned to leave at 5:30AM that morning. Her parents, Frank and Holli, would watch the kids for the night/weekend and try to join for one of the closer aid stations. I was up at 4:15AM to scarf down some food, take a quick shower and check my supplies one last time. I planned for one drop bag at Clackamas in case Calli couldn’t make it there for some reason. I would hit that aid station near miles 40 and 70 so it is a great spot to pack a headlamp, layers and food. The forecast called for rain at 2AM, so I mentally prepared for less than ideal conditions. Calli had my pace chart and information for all the aid stations, which were easy to get to from Government Camp.
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| My pace chart, because who doesn't love a good spreadsheet... |
I decided to drive, since Calli would be running back and forth all weekend in the car supporting me. We ran into a few people in the parking lot that were staying at the same hotel for the race and encountered a few more runners making their trip toward Olallie Lake along the drive. Pickup was a very smooth process and I learned everyone that signed up got a pair of Nike Pegasus trail shoes. That was a nice surprise!
I didn't expect to feel so relaxed the morning of the race but I felt very calm. I enjoyed having the hour alone with Calli and was looking forward to seeing what was in store for me over the next day and a half. Before long, the race directors called everyone together and ran through some rules and things to know for the day. The group of runners then lined up and they sent us on our way to try and run 100 miles.
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| Before... scroll way down to see after! |
From Olallie Lake, we took a quick turn off a forest road to get onto the PCT heading south. I deliberately started near the back as I was hoping to pace this one more conservatively than I have in the past, but we all bottlenecked immediately. Within the first tenth of a mile or two, everyone funneled through the narrow trail. I kept my patience and enjoyed the views. Mount Jefferson loomed in the distance all morning, commanding attention any time it wasn’t obscured by trees or nearby slopes. I caught an occasional view of Mount Hood to the north, but the best views of it would come later in the day. I wasn’t quick enough to catch them before sunset, but I could see lights along the slopes where the resort rises to 9,000 feet.
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| Early miles, with Mount Jefferson in the background. |
“Hey, same to you!” he shouted as we parted ways.
I told Calli to expect me back at the aid station near 10:45, giving me 2 hours and 45 minutes to do the first 12 miles. I wanted to hike every uphill segment from the start and even walk some of the flats early on. I hadn’t yet paced a 100 miler very well and I hoped that being conscious about both of those would save some energy in my legs for the back half. This meant walking sections of the forest road that I knew I could run. I didn’t let it get to my head as runners passed me and I stuck with the plan. I brought an extra 500 mL bottle for this section since the forecast was warm and sunny. I was glad to have it. I made it back to Olallie Lake just after 10:45AM, just about when I was hoping to. The aid station felt a bit congested, but with Calli's help I was able to get out of it quickly. She stocked me with food and Tailwind packets to mix with water, since the race didn't offer a drink with calories/carbs. I got very good at pouring Tailwind into my water bottles without spilling over the course of the day!
Along the way, an older couple with backpacks was coming towards me. They stepped off to the side, and as I neared, I heard “The Eye of the Tiger” blasting from the husband’s phone. I laughed and thanked him for the support. The trees burned by the fire gave way to a lush forest, with massive Douglas firs all around. They blocked the sun, keeping things cooler as the clock passed noon. My toe was actually feeling decent. If anything, my left calf felt very tight leaving Olallie Lake which was a new problem for me. I stretched it occasionally, but it gradually got worse throughout the day.
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| Lichen or moss covered trees along the PCT. |
I could move well otherwise and the trail always had a friendly grade. I admired lichen covered rocks and trees with hanging wisps of moss when I felt a sharp pang on my left calf. I swatted it, knocking a bee off, but only after it stung me. “Interesting…” I said, not sure what that would do to my day. That was my second for the year, after not getting one for maybe 2 decades. I’m not sure what I did to piss off bees, but I wasn’t alone on this one!
Several miles later I passed two women in a meadow around mile 20. They stayed close behind me for a while, and at one point I overheard one say, “Maybe this bee sting is actually giving me more energy!” I turned back to commiserate with her and asked when she got hers. Sure enough, it was near the same area as mine. Later on at the finish line, I encountered another runner who was stung near there on his return trip. Lesson learned for this race - the bees are feisty near the Pinheads aid station! Fortunately for me, the bee sting didn't end up playing a factor in my race. I made it to Pinheads later than expected (I think it is actually a mile further than what the race's website shows) and stashed my extra water bottle - the aid stations were closer together until well after sunset.
Nearly 6.5 hours into the race, I heard the next aid station, Warm Springs, before I saw it. Dance music was blasting from a speaker near a sign that read, “Welcome to Warm Springs; Dad Jokes and Disco!” I ran in and heard a dad joke from a friendly volunteer before I restocked Tailwind for the next leg. I also checked my feet for blisters and re-applied Vaseline; so far so good.
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| A rare open space along the trail - much of it runs in the shade of trees. |
I left the Warm Springs stocked with food as usual and decided to try and get most of it down as I hadn’t eaten much real food over the last hour. A quarter of a banana and a quarter of a pb&j - nothing crazy and I had been eating those all morning. Moments after eating the banana I could tell it wasn’t sitting well, and I should have listened closer to my body. I took a bite of the sandwich and immediately felt light-headed and nauseous. I stopped to lean against a tree before puking all the food, Tailwind and water I had taken in over the last hour or so. There was a lot, and it kept coming. And coming, and coming. I had made it 6 years without puking during a long distance race, so maybe it was just my time.
Looking back, I realized it was likely due to overloading Tailwind. The aid station came quicker than I expected, so I chugged 500 mL to free up space to refill. I think that did me in - my stomach couldn’t process everything I threw at it in a short time and the PB&J just sent it over the edge.
After letting everything out, I actually felt much better very quickly. I played it safe on food until the next aid station, sipping Tailwind and taking an occasional bite of real food to try and make up for the calories I lost. The trail was a mellow downhill with beautiful smaller trees surrounding me, at times enveloping the trail in a smaller canopy beneath the larger pines. It had been a rocky several hours since leaving Olallie Lake but I was heading the right direction.
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| You'd never guess I just puked. |
At Clackamas, I heard Layla shouting “Yay daddy!”. I saw her and the family as I rounded the corner toward the aid station and Calli brought around a chair. Seeing them lightened my mood significantly - this was the highlight of the day. Layla said a ton of cute things including, “You’re running really far dad,” and “You’re stinky!”. She wasn’t wrong! Margot was fussy when I got in but I held her for a bit and she turned around before I left. I may have spent longer here than I needed to but I don’t regret it, it was a lot of work getting the whole family out here and I was happy to spend a little more time with them. I let Calli know about the problems since I last saw her and she stocked me up with food and a headlamp for the next sections.
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| Clackamas for the first time with the family. |
Real food had started to not sit well, mainly because my mouth felt dry and most of the choices were hard or chewy. I grabbed some bananas and a lot of gels and headed towards the shores of Timothy Lake. My last memory before the sun went down was seeing a single boat out cruising on the rocky waters. Before long, the sun had set and I donned my headlamp.
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| Sunset over Timothy Lake. |
This brought me to the Little Crater Lake aid station, named for a lake a couple hundred yards away. I stopped by the shores of the lake to take some pictures - a tectonic fault fills this lake with spring water that was some of the most clear I had ever seen. Pictures don't do it justice, but I'll try anyways:
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| Little Crater Lake. Look close and you can see a fallen tree underwater. |
I left Little Crater Lake's aid station a bit too quickly. I forgot that it was over 8 miles to the next stop and I did not eat enough nor did I leave with enough food for the next segment. This meant I was playing catch up when I made it to Frog Lake near mile 55, scarfing down food and stuffing my vest with more for the road. On the bright side, I was over halfway done with the race. My watch reset near mile 50, so I paused to get it started again before making it to Frog Lake aid station. The volunteers wouldn't be outdone by dad jokes from the earlier aid station, sharing this gem with me:
"How can you tell if a joke is a dad joke?"
"How?"
"It's usually apparent."
Ba-dum-tiss!
I should have asked for the names of the volunteers - there was a kid who couldn't have been older than 10 that was working so hard for runners. He knew what to ask and would do so much for runners - I saw him running around to help 8 runners in the few minutes I was there. I thanked them and shuffled off.
Coming back, my calf pain finally began to subside. I was relieved as I thought this might take me out of the race - after running Javelina, I collapsed pretty quickly with a calf cramp that wiped me out for 3 days. Runners on this section will pass by others on their way to Frog Lake, as that is the turn around point for the day. I was blinded by some of the lights other runners had... Maybe I’m old school, but a single decent headlamp will 100% do the job for an established trail like this. You don’t need 3 headlamps, or one that you can see from space. Many of them had waist lights that pointed directly at my eyes, and I'd see stars for moments after we crossed paths. I was grateful when I passed the last runner and didn’t have any more coming at me again.
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| Calli and I at Dam. I felt about as good (see: bad) as I looked here! |
Then again, maybe I was just grumpy... Calli met me at the Dam aid station near mile 68 to help bring me back to life. The next day she told me that I was in a very bad mood there. Whiny, sensitive, and impatient. More of the same at Clackamas 2 near mile 72 - I wasn't eating great here and should have been able to move a bit quicker than I was. I just didn't feel good mentally and sat at both these aid stations. Standing up was excruciating, and it took me 10 minutes to get back to a point to where I could run again after sitting down. This was one of my main regrets for the day - I didn't need to sit down at either aid station. I didn't need to check my feet, change shirts, etc... I just wanted to get off my feet, but it made it way harder to get moving. Calli told me the forecast was still calling for rain at 5AM so I packed a rain jacket and a fleece, planning to get my rain pants from her at mile 96 if things were really bad. She sent me off and I was alone again in the night, right around 1:45AM.
After leaving Clackamas for the second time, I had crossed the Rubicon. Any of the aid stations from here to mile 96 are logistically impossible to get out of until the aid station shuts down, so I knew I just had to get to the finish line one way or the other. Things felt really bleak on the climb out of the aid station. The grade a gentle uphill, but I couldn’t muster even a shuffle and had to slowly hike every step. 6 slow miles ensued, covering trails I had already run that day but now alone in the dead of night. I just focused on eating and drinking and sang some songs in my head. At one point I turned of my headlamp and looked around. It was pitch black, eerie with no sign of a moon.
I arrived at Red Wolf near 3:20AM and the first thing one of the volunteers told me was that I looked very composed. “Oh it’s a façade,” I replied, only partially joking. I had certainly felt worse, but the day was wearing on me. I refueled with ramen noodles and left to find the trail began a slight descent. I found I still had energy in my legs to run downhill so I capitalized, letting loose to make up some time lost climbing. Before long, I was climbing again and slowed down back to a hike towards Warm Springs. I didn’t think to look for the tree I stopped to puke at, but that was for the best. My stomach had calmed down significantly since then - ramen, tailwind, water and gels were all sitting perfectly. I planned to ride that out to the end.
At Warm Springs, the volunteers delivered dad jokes once more, but my memory is shot from that time as it was probably 4:30AM and I had been awake for 24 hours already. That seems to be my only sleep related symptom - I really never felt exhausted, or so much as yawned. I just can’t remember much from the night. I don’t know what circumstances led to me feeling awake all night, but I hope I can recreate it in future races… it really made a difference. I brought headphones for the first time, thinking it would help me deal with the loneliness/desire to sleep, but I never ended up using them.
Some of my best miles came from miles 83 to 97. Ramen was sitting well and I was eating at least 300 calories an hour. I still had to hike uphills but I could really stretch my legs downhill and on flats to make up some time. Fortunately, many of these miles were downhill. I made it back to Pinheads near mile 89 ahead of schedule and continued gaining time from my plan from there.
So much so, that when I made it to Olallie Meadows, the final aid station, at mile 97.7, Calli was nowhere to be found. I checked my watch - I ended up coming in 80 minutes ahead of schedule. A good problem to have! I asked the aid station volunteers to tell her I’m sorry and I love her, as I was excited to have her pace me on a 100 miler. Calli later would tell me that she delivered the message. I left and began a slow climb back to the Pacific Crest Trail. Much of this final section was slightly uphill, so my hype had come to an end. I had started mistaking dead trees for people or buildings - at one point, I was convinced I was nearing a huge Safeway grocery store. I planned to beeline it for the ice cream aisle. At least a dozen times, I thought there was a runner ahead or behind me, only to realize it was a tree or a rock.
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| Nearing Olallie Meadows at mile 97. |
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| After... still smiling! |
I’d live in that tent for the next hour, eating a bit more solid food and trying to maintain body temperature. Another runner and his crew helped get me blankets and close to the heat source. They later told me it was because all the color had gone from my face and they were worried I was going to faint. I felt lucky to have them, and even luckier to have Calli when she arrived with clean clothes and more food. I thanked her for helping me out the entire day - meeting me at crazy times of day/night, dealing with me when I was grumpy, driving hundreds of miles to be there when I needed her, and managing to get the kids to one of the aid stations too. I'm very lucky to have someone like that, and feel fortunate that her parents were willing to help watch the kids so she could do this for me.
Pacing, Food, Thoughts for Next Time
I ran through a dozen pace plans for this race. It is a very runnable course, with a modest amount of climbing for 100 miles and few steep grades. Javelina was my most recent 100 mile race (which took me nearly 25 hours), but that was almost 3 years ago and an easier course. After months of deliberation, I decided I’d add ~8% or so to my finish time to make up for the added climbing and uncertainty about my toe. I nailed much of my times getting to aid stations, being within 10 minutes of each of them despite not thinking about it much during the race. Only at Pinheads near mile 89 did I really start to gain some time, thanks to the ability to run downhills late in the day. I’m glad my toe didn’t bother me and I’m proud of how I paced this one. Even though it wasn’t my fastest, it felt like the first 100 miler that I actually planned well.
My toe feels no different today than it did before the race. Just a dull discomfort from time to time. Maybe it led to the calf tightness if I changed my running gait, but even that subsided by mile 55. I'm not sure what led to me moving slowly uphill late in the race - probably not training on enough vert. It just felt like my ankles had no ability to do more than a modest hike. I'm glad I had downhill legs and could still finish strong.
I nailed blister management - my last few 100K+ runs have been rife with blisters on my smaller toes. Vaseline and better socks seems to do the trick, for now at least!
Nutrition had its ups and downs. I planned on 2 servings of Tailwind, 1 gel, and some real food every hour. I hit that for the majority of the day, but it fell apart from 11PM-2AM as none of the real food was appetizing except for bananas. Once I was able to get ramen near 1:30AM things rebounded well - I just didn't want anything dry, hard or gummy, and that was the bulk of what the aid stations offered. Maybe I could have responded by taking more gels for those couple hours. Separately, vomiting was unpleasant, but I have to think that was just from overloading my stomach with water and tailwind rather than due to any food/the gels. Things felt so dialed in after 2AM until the end of the race - Tailwind, gel, ramen, repeat.
And here I am 5 days out, finally starting to get back to normal. I had a hard time with sleep for the first few nights, waking up sporadically overnight and crashing hard every few hours throughout the day. My muscles and cardio turned a corner and I managed a 30 minute run today. Who knows what the future holds... the thought of training for something fast again feels enticing right now, so maybe a marathon or half marathon next spring and plan for another 100 miler in 2027. It's still close to the event so I take it with a grain of salt, but I am perfectly fine taking some time before running this far again!
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