July 24, 2006
Running the Pioneer Trail
Usually runners start with marathons and then progress to ultramarathons. I took the opposite route. I’ve run in 20 ultramarathons, but have never run in, or witnessed a marathon in person. At the prompting of my brother, Bob, I signed up for the Deseret News Marathon on Utah’s Pioneer Day holiday (July 24). This is a unique Utah state holiday that commemorates the arrival of the Mormon Pioneers in 1847.
Much of the course follows the historic route that the Utah Pioneers used to enter the Salt Lake Valley in 1847. I have researched and written about this trail in depth, and have a special connection to it. I decided to sign up for it because of its historic connection and because it is unique for its massive 3,000-foot descent into the valley.
I felt like a rookie at the start. I didn’t have any road shoes. I knew my shoes were too heavy but they wouldn’t blister me. The crowd was overwhelming, over a thousand people. Two runners noticed my HURT 100 shirt and asked me questions. I didn’t mention that I had run 100 miles just 8 days ago in the Tahoe Rim 100. I worried about how in the world I could run 26.2 miles without stopping to use the facilities. Roads: What is up with that? I’ve never run 26.2 miles of roads before. What punishment did I sign up for? I’ve run a couple 10K races recently for fun and proved that I could turn up the speed a little bit on the road, placing 2nd both times in my age group. But pounding the road for 26.2 miles?
I waited around the start area for an hour at Big Mountain (about 7,600 feet). I looked up fondly to the trail used by the Wasatch Front 100 (mile 40) that crosses across the start area. I thought about how I would feel the next time I visited Big Mountain in September during the Wasatch Front 100.
I chatted with my brother, Bob, for a while, mentioning some of the historic events that occurred on the route that we would be running. The Donner-Reed party took this route in 1846, a year before the Mormon pioneers followed in 1847. It was on Big Mountain that Brigham Young saw the Salt Lake Valley for the first time and expressed approval that they had found their destination.
One 1847 pioneer wrote about his view from Big Mountain, “From this ridge we can see an extensive valley to the west but on every other side high mountains, many of them white with snow. It seems as though a few hours’ travel might bring us out from the mountains on good road again.” It would be a few hours’ travel for about 1,000 runners in 2006, but for the 1847 pioneers, it would take two more days to travel the same distance down the rugged canyons.
At 5:30 a.m., we were off. The road turned down steeply from Big Mountain. I did my best to push my way through the crowd during the first quarter mile until I was able to run freely fast down the road in the pre-dawn light. I took turns with Bob setting a good fast pace down the mountain road. In 1847 the pioneers had to lock the rear wheels of their wagons because it was so steep. For them, the road was full of stumps, many which had to be removed before they could proceed. One pioneer wrote about this area: “Our journey for a number of days had been rather gloomy. The mountains on both sides have been so high and the ravines so cracked that we could see but a short distance and it looked as though we were shut up in a gulf without any chance for escape.”
Well, Bob and I were trying to escape, with about 900 others chasing us. We reached the 3-mile mark in 19:31. I enjoyed the canyon views, gazing down at a reservoir that now covered this portion of the historic trail. As some stretches of dirt shoulders appeared, I was the only one around who ran on the dirt for a time, bringing a smile to my face.
Back on the pavement, we next were faced with a climb of 400 feet over two miles that is probably a rare occurrence in a marathon. I did my best to keep the run going strong but soon felt the toll of tired legs from last week’s 100-mile run. Finally I reached the top of Little Mountain and looked forward to another fast run down Emigration Canyon.
Back in 1847, a member of the pioneer company wrote about his view from Little Mountain: “From the top of this hill . . . we could see a part of the Salt Lake Valley, our long anticipated home. We did truly rejoice at the sight.” In 2006, I thought, “Wow, we still have a long way down to run.”
As I cruised down Emigration Canyon, I could no longer see Bob behind me as I tried my best to move my feet. My legs felt fine on the downhill, but I just didn’t have the speed training to turn them over fast enough. I was now being passed by dozens of runners. I reached the 8-mile point at the one-hour mark. Halfway down the canyon, there was a short out-and-back in a side canyon that allowed me to track Bob’s progress, about a quarter mile behind.
As I continued my run down the canyon, the heat of the day continued to rise. I carried a hand-held bottle that I kept filled with Poweraid. I marvelled how so many runners could run by only drinking at the water stations. I knew the day would become very hot, so I continued to frequently drink along the way. My pace continued to slow. I reached the halfway point at 1:43.
As I neared the mouth of Emigration Canyon, I could see Donner Hill. In 1846-47 there was a bad obstruction in the canyon that required both the Donner-Reed Party and the advance 1847 pioneer company to climb a side hill that became known as Donner Hill. In 1847, men were assigned to cut a road through the obstruction. One pioneer wrote: “While the brethren were cutting the road, I followed the old one to the top of the hill and on arriving there was much cheered by a handsome view of the Great Salt Lake lying, as I should judge, from twenty‑five to thirty miles to the west of us.”
Feeling good again
At about the 16-mile mark, I ran out of the canyon, into the valley. I was at a low point in my running, so I refuelled with some gel and within a half-mile had a burst of energy as I ran along a residential road (Wasatch Dr.) lined with a few cheering spectators. It energized me to acknowledge the cheers and high-five some of the kids with my sweaty hands.
We turned a corner onto Foothill Dr. near the location of the first camp used by the original pioneer company on July 22, 1847. I thought about how easy my route was compared to the pioneers. One wrote: “Many different kinds of grass appear, some being 10 or 12 feet high. After wading thro’ thick grass for some distance, we found a place bare enough for a camping ground, the grass being only knee deep, but very thick; we camped on the banks of a beautiful little stream which was surrounded by very tall grass.”
After turning the corner, I was surprised to see many runners walking. I had my second wind and kept a strong run going, now passing several walkers. The morning was becoming very hot. I noticed some sprinklers on near the side of the road so I diverted my route to let me become totally soaked in the cool water. Within a mile or so, I was totally dry again but feeling much better.
The rest of the route followed busy city roads toward downtown Salt Lake City. Kind police were stopping traffic and I did my best to run fast across the intersections. I reached the 20-mile mark at the 2:55 mark. I had less than 10K to go. Could I break 4 hours? With the nice gentle slope down South Temple St., I was able to pick up the pace and again run 8-minute miles.
Pouring on the speed
The heat was really starting to take its toll. With a couple miles to go, someone threw me a soft bottle of ice water. Wow, that was great. I squirted the cool water all over me for the next mile. During the last mile, the route ran for a block along the crowded Pioneer Day Parade route. I ran to loud cheers from the kind crowds and did my best to keep a pace faster than the floats.
Crossing the finish line
Finally, the finish line appears! I would finish my first road marathon. I sprinted past a couple of surprised runners right before the finish line and clocked a time of 3:44.
I was pleased with my experience. After running a 100-miler only a week earlier, I had accomplished a respectable finish, 12th in my age group. Bob finished 15 minutes later, just barely missing the 4-hour mark.
I reached my desert valley destination feeling tired and glad that the pounding road experience was over. In 1847, reactions varied as these pioneers arrived at their new western home. One male pioneer wrote: “My heart felt truly glad, and I rejoiced at having the privilege of beholding his extensive and beautiful valley.” A female in the company wrote a countering view: “We arrived in the valley of the Great Salt Lake. My feelings were such as I cannot describe. Every thing looked gloomy and I felt heart sick.”
With my first road marathon experience in the books, I looked forward to returning to the world of trail ultras. I have a new respect for the difficulty of a marathon and the dedicated runners who enjoy those races.
To read more about the historic arrival of the pioneers to Utah, read in my book, “Saints Find The Place.”
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