Nueces 50 Trail Race (Marathon), March 6, 2010

Nueces River at Camp Eagle

On the western edge of the Texas Hill Country; amidst vast, sparsely populated ranches; at the headwaters of a river considered by Mexico to be the original border of the state before the Texas revolution; is concealed a little-known, resort-like playground called Camp Eagle. Although the site's rugged, picturesque trails are no stranger to mountain bike races, trail running races had only been introduced to the camp a couple of times before Tejas Trails was asked to organize and direct a full-scale event on March 6, 2010. The combination of beautiful photos from the web site gallery, a strong curiosity, and sneaky suspicion of this developing into a extremely fun race weekend caused me to make this part of my trail race plan as early as November the previous year.

Pictures courtesy of Joe Prusaitis

Camp Eagle

Two things strike the first-time visitor to Camp Eagle; #1: Its' remoteness. Driving west from Austin on 290 until you hit I10, small towns already begin to disappear. And then you drive west of I10 another ~ 40 miles. Even though the roads are good quality, this is not an area where you want to get lost or run out of gas; both of which are likely based on the long distances one can drive out there without seeing civilization. When you spot the dirt road entrance into Camp Eagle, you drive another 8 miles (not 2, not 4, 8) before reaching the Camp entrance. During this drive, it becomes clear by the growing hills and cliffs that you are descending into a beautiful river valley. And then the second feature shocks you; #2: Who / How / Why on earth did a resort of such a grand scale come to be constructed in such a remote area of Texas?! From two story hotel wings, to luxurious cabins, an ample RV park, tennis courts, a game room, a large cafeteria and kitchen, and scenic decks masterfully perched on the stone cliffs overlooking the Nueces, etc.; the place is almost overwhelming at first. While I don't have the exact answer to its origin, rumor has it that the facility was an attempt at a true vacation resort, which failed business-wise (ya think?). The Christian group that owns it now was in the right place at the right time, and Camp Eagle was born. Since then, it has been a popular destination for Boy/Girl Scout troops, church retreats, band camps, and other associations. Our state and national parks should be so lucky. But, the trails crisscrossing this vast, hilly acreage is what brought me, and 70 other trail runners to this oasis this weekend.

A quick note on my ongoing Life Balance Equation tuning: I bantered back and forth the decision of bringing my family out with me, and the handful of runners who did bring their kids had a blast. However, I knew this time of year would be too cold for any of the fantastic looking water activities (i.e.: the cliff-high water slides, water trampoline, water decks to jump from, canoeing, etc.), and I wanted to scope-out the facilities myself first (...to review, it is counter-productive to bring the family to any race only to have them be bored). Now that I've visited the location, if were a kid, I'd want to spend all summer there. It only lacks horses. I will definitely bring the family along next year.

With Friday off, I was able to leave early in the day and make the 4pm trail briefing in the game room, which is adorned by about 20 stuffed exotic game heads. Most runners could not make it out of Austin or San Antonio until after work, so, about 10 of us got an intimate trail briefing from Joe while playing table shuffleboard and air hockey. The main instructions that stuck out:

• Don't run too far past a wrong way marker or off trail because you might fall off of a cliff.
• Don't run off the camp's property because you might be mistaken for an exotic deer and shot.
• Also, this place has more rocks than Bandera... believe it.

And then it was off to a delicious spaghetti dinner.

As I had engineered while training for Bandera, I am able to comfortably stretch out on a wide cot in my SUV. I find I get an excellent nights' rest using this configuration, as opposed to the many variables associated with communal sleeping arrangements. It might also be that the comfy confines are similar to a "womb," supporting the theory that male ultra runners suffer from "Childbirth Envy" (theory)... maybe not. I parked directly across from the bathrooms and showers.

My iPhone alarm went off at 5am, giving me ample time to get dressed, conduct my necessary pre-race business, consume a breakfast taco in the cafeteria, and loiter around the Pavilion to watch the 50 miler start. I had brought two stocked mini coolers (my version of drop bags) but, since aid stations were 5 miles or closer apart on this course, and so well stocked, I would not touch my coolers the entire day. Oh well, better to be over prepared than under. The aid station proximity underscored another lesson I have since learned; when to use a hydration back pack versus hand held water bottles. As pointed out by my trail running friend Mike Ruhlin, over a marathon distance or longer, the weight of a hydration pack does start to take a toll. And it's just not necessary on a course layout like this one, where two hand held bottles would easily last me between aid stations. Another unique feature of this race was the fact that 99% of the runners had never set foot on the course before. It was like everyone was opening a huge Christmas present. Luckily, Joyce Prusaitis had marked much of the course, using more trail markers than Joe typically used on courses twice the size. It was the best marked course I had seen. Unfortunately, I heard a few runners still missed a couple of turns. As Mike Sawyer pointed out, on some of the "new" trail wooded sections, without the incredibly explicit "police tape" chutes, it would have been impossible to see the intended route.

2010 Trail race course map

The marathoners started up a dirt road in order to cut the first of two loops short (to make ~ 26.something miles). Note: Joe P. was keeping the "marathon" distance to maintain the traditional distance set by the previous two races. Also, there is a theory that the word "marathon" itself might attract some more runners, who would possibly shy away from the incredibly foreign term of "50K." Never-the-less, it may be changed to a 50K in the future. I ran with Stephanie and then JoAnna and Layla S. for a while, and even saw trail running champion Liza Howard for a couple of minutes, maintaining my haphazard tradition of starting out too fast.

After a run on top of a ridge with a beautiful view of the river, and then some switch-backs descending down to a springy-fun suspension bridge crossing the river, we ran by the first aid station Armadillo (~ mile 2), significant because of what follows shortly after it; the climb to the Windmill. This steady, rocky climb is a little over one mile but, it feels like 3 miles. With a couple of false tops, you can see the windmill in the distance; it just refuses get any closer. This hill is scattered with beautiful flint and geode-like rocks; pleasant because I spent a lot of time watching them slowly pass under my feet that day.

At the end of the marathon's first shorter loop, approaching the start/finish Pavilion aid station (~ mile 8), the trail runs along the river on what I consider to be the most unique, and fun features of the Nueces course. First, you cross the river on the cement bridge crossing you drove over when entering Camp Eagle; it is impossible to keep your feet dry at this point. Luckily, I have never really minded having wet shoes but, it apparently drives some other runners crazy. Then you pass through a sandy beach area where what looks like the van from Scooby Doo has been parked for years. Then you run along a narrow rock ledge at the base of the cliff below Camp Eagle's lodge, climbing up and down stair steps of granite, stepping over canoe tie lines, focusing on not slipping and going for a cold swim. I thought this section was a blast.

The funnest / weirdest thing
I've ever run over in my life.

Immediately on exiting the Pavilion aid station (~ mile 8), the course travels over the large river overlook deck (a great place for race spectators, BTW), and then crosses Camp Eagle's large, wooden, pedestrian suspension bridge over the entrance road. Even though this bridge is probably built strong enough to support the weight of a car, it sways up and down with a funky harmonic motion while traversing it that is unlike anything I've ever experienced. Runners would describe their failed attempts at synchronizing their gate to it, or just giving up and walking over it. I thought swinging my hips back and forth in a pseudo salsa rhythm worked quite well. For its shear weirdness, this bridge is one of my favorite parts of the course; I don't care what any other runners say. After this bridge, runners are sent on a two mile, switch-backy loop before returning to the opposite side of the Pavilion to head out on the second full loop. I call this loop "the final insult" because runners head out on it again right before the finish line but, I honestly like this part of the course. Its wooded, winding trail reminds me of Austin's Bull Creek "Ken's Loop" trail I run every Sunday with my HCTR buddies.

After leaving the Pavilion, some fairly typical rocky terrain leads to the Moon aid station (~ mile 12). The following switch-backy section exhibits the "mind-tease" characteristic of this course, described by 50 miler and Traverse Team member Dalton. Being a relatively small crowd for this race, I felt like I was the only person out there at times. But, at other times, and especially in this section, I would hear voices from indistinguishable directions; aid stations that aren't really ahead or behind you but on a separate side of the loop. It was kind of spooky. Marathon runners then arrive at the Texas aid station (~ mile 14.5) for the first time, since it was cut off by the shorter first loop; again, significant for what immediately follows it. The next section of the course winds its way up a steep, wooded, rocky slope in an up and down neurotic manner. Parts of this half mile section have no clear trail, just trail markers on trees above or below you, and its steepness makes it difficult for even the elite runners to run. I'm in awe of the 50 milers who negotiated this insane section three times during the day.

Lots of rock on this course.

After bouncing off trees and lumbering up to the top of the ridge, you are rewarded with a smooth dirt road downhill that you can run as fast as your heart desires; assuming you're in the mood to run fast at that point. You then go through a rocky creek bed and back over to the Armadillo aid station (~ mile 18.5) to begin the second endless climb to the Windmill (~ mile 22). The weight of my hydration pack was starting to take its toll on my back at this point.

A tortuous smell of hamburgers
is wafting from The Pavilion.

I have a "doddle at aid station" issue I need to work on. Well, not really every aid station, just the "second to the last" aid station in races of this distance. When I finally got to the Pavilion (~ mile 24.5), and started the "final insult" loop, I was feeling stiff. I could tell my loitering at that one aid station might cost me my below-7-hour goal. But, I really focused on my form again through those lonely wooded switch-backs and hauled my butt across the finish line in 6 hours 40 something. Not a bad days' work.

Before the race, I had bragged about being willing to jump off a ~ 1.5 story tall deck into the river, which was clearly constructed for that purpose, within ear-shot of the race director. Joe made it clear that I had thus committed to doing so. At the Pavilion finish line, he suggested that I might as well get it over with while I was still warm from the run. He followed me down the steps with a camera to document the event.

Post race dip.

The clear river water was very cold. But, on my scale of "cold water I've been dared to jump into," it was not "stinging cold," like the trail lake in Rocky Mountain National Park my brother-in-law frequently dares me to jump into during our family summer vacation. Never-the-less, I made a B-line from there to grab a hot shower. JoAnna also took a dip. I'm surprised more runners didn't treat their aching muscles to the frigid therapy.

Awesome zip line!

While waiting for the rest of the runners to trickle in, a group of us partook in some zip-lining fun. Two cables stretch down a massive hill, at the bottom of which passengers must be hitting speeds around 40 to 50 MPH. Needless to say, a must do. Cheri W. and myself are pictured on our way down. (Picture courtesy of Shannon Mitchell)

The post race activities at Nueces are as much fun as the race itself. From enjoying muscle replenishment beer therapy around the huge campfire ring, to hot-off-the-grill burgers under the Pavilion, it's almost silly to pack up the car and leave too soon. Much thanks to Joe and Joyce Prusaitis and family, and all of the volunteers for organizing this trail race fiesta. And thanks to Chris McWaters and the Camp Eagle staff for hosting and feeding all of us ravenous trail runners so well.

• I was again in admiration of my current coach, Roger Davis, and friend Gordon M. for knocking out the 50 miler that day, and Paul N. for completing his first 50 miler. They have expanded my imagination for the upcoming goal that I'm training for...
• Joe Prusaitis, Nueces Race Director's race report
• Congrats to the super friendly husband / wife trail running couple of Brenda and John for 1st and 2nd in the 10K.