Debauched by Two Punk Kids

I ARRIVED BACK AT CAMP ALLAMUCHY exhausted, sore, soaked in sweat, and with a stomachache. I’d endured several thousand feet of elevation gain, kicked approximately 17,000 rocks, and bushwhacked the last two miles up and down ridges, one flag at a time, one very careful step at a time. I was ready to call it a hard-earned day and crash on the nice soft grass.

But I was only halfway through.

I’d found this race searching for a suitable ‘dress rehearsal’ for the Sangre de Cristo 50-miler next month. I needed something with comparable elevation gain, if not actual elevation, to test both my body’s readiness and some new equipment. The TPK Debauchery 50K in Stanhope, New Jersey fit the bill. Two 25K (15.5 miles) loops, each with 3,000 feet of elevation gain. And from the course description I could expect lots of rocks and roots to trip on. Oh, joy.

I arrived at Boy Scout Camp Allamuchy Saturday morning wearing my new Salomon Skin 12 vest, with a custom quiver to hold my hiking poles. On my feet were Hoka Speedgoats, which I’d basically put on right out of the box. Not standard practice, but I had to know if they’d work on these kinds of trails. At 6 a.m. sharp we headed up the road – the first of many, many, climbs – to connect to the state park trails.

It became readily apparent that I hadn’t rested enough the week before. Instead of my usual energy at race start, I felt tired, and my steps were heavy when they should have been quick and light. And my vest was too much for a warm, humid morning. It felt bulky and I was already sweating heavily into my shirt. But I could do nothing about it until the end of the loop. And the trail included boulder fields to scramble over in addition to plentiful ordinary rocks. Remarkably, I only fell once, though my hiking poles saved me several times later on.

It wasn’t all terrible. The scenery was nice, when I could take my eyes off the trail for a few moments. And I enjoyed chatting with other runners. One was doing his first 50K here! If this had been my introduction to ultrarunning, I would’ve likely looked for a different way to challenge myself. Some were even doing the 100K distance – four loops. (There were three finishers, and I don’t know how even they did it.)

And then, near the end of the loop, just as I was thinking the worst was behind me, came a sign:

YOU ARE NOW ENTERING DEBAUCHERY LANE

That meant we would leave the trail and follow the orange flags straight up the nearby ridge, and after that, who knew? At that point I would’ve preferred not to know, but it was the only way back to camp, so up I went. And down. And up. Repeat. I have no photos, mainly because I was too tired to bother, but here’s one from their Facebook page. (Even this doesn’t do it justice. You hadda be there.)

Finally I emerged onto the camp road and returned to the start. “So when does the debauchery start?” I asked one of the punk kids (who, actually, are very nice people). “That term implies both pleasure and pain, and I’m still waiting on the pleasure part.”

I did get some pleasure from some equipment changes. I replaced my soaked shirt with a dry one, put on my lighter vest and switched from soft flasks to hard ones, which seem to work better for me. I added a liner over my socks to further reduce friction in my shoes. Then I drank about five gallons of water, Gatorade, and Coke, and forced some food down. It worked; after twenty minutes I recovered and was ready to head out for the second loop. Because I’d go the opposite direction, I’d hit Debauchery Lane early instead of late. I was happy about this; I’d get it out of the way while I had fresh energy.

It was still a hard push, especially with only one aid station on the way, but my energy held up. Around mile 25 the trail became runnable for an extended section, and I took full advantage. It felt great to be kicking out 12-minute miles instead of 20.

I finished just after 4 p.m. for a total time of 10 hours, 8 minutes for the 50K. I’ve finished 50 mile races in less time. And yet I was in the middle of the pack, finisher #18 out of 28. But that wasn’t the point. It was one damn brutal race, but as training for September, it was perfect, and for that I’m glad I was there.

So what did I learn for next month in Colorado? Many useful things. Keeping the shoes, as they worked well, especially with toe socks and liner. Unsure about the Salomon vest. It should be okay if the weather is colder. But I’ll bring along the lighter one too. The pole quiver is handy, as long as it’s tightly secured to the vest. Bring Coke just in case they run out, as they did here. Carry lube; my thighs got chafed, naturally when it was too late to go back for some. And taking long drinks seems to work better than frequent small ones. (This is what resolved the stomachache and kept it from coming back.)

But perhaps the most important lesson was that even when not at my physical best, I can still push through a tough race and get ‘er done. I’ve actually learned this before, but it never hurts to get reinforcement.

And for the first time in three races, I was not the oldest finisher! This is me with Randy, who finished roughly a half hour after I did. At age 73. So what do I have to bitch about?