The final aid station at the turnaround of the race was at the Winfield trailhead past Hope Pass. Driving along the washboard road up to the aid station, the cloud cover was thick and rain was ominously hanging over close. The temperature was going down again, hovering somewhere near the lower 40's. Sunday and i had some pretty strong concerns about Brian climbing the brutal 12,600 pass to the next aid station.
As we hit the road where the trail met the runners, we saw many going out and many coming back in, the the rain was coming down steadily now and people were feeling the icy effects. Race numbers blew around frantically as runners struggled to maintain their pace through the wind breaking through rain gear and jerseys.
Once at camp, we checked the board of lost runners and saw no sign of our courageous duo. However, as soon as we got to the station, the rain and wind came in full force. We knew the racers coming over the pass had to be getting pummeled. We saw racers coming in to the check-in soaked and covered in mud. But many were leaving with soup, hot chocolate and renewed vigor that they were half finished.
As the time grew close, we watched the far part of the road to see if we could see Kyle and Brian as we talked to Ann, a leader at the local Outward Bound branch and boss to Brian's cousin. Ann was planning on pacing Brian on his first leg back down the mountain.
We knew he probably wasn't going to make it by the time 5:30 hit, but as soon as the cut-off came at 6pm, i strapped on my running shoes and took off down the trail, passing the pass trailhead and heading up the pass to find the boys. After running about 2 miles down the road, Sunday met me with the car and we stopped at the trailhead. I headed up the pass and met him about 3/4 mile up the 13% grade misery trail. Covered in a huge trashbag, limping with trekking poles, but still smiling i found Brian. I was releaved to see him hobbling down the trail toward me.
We continued on down the trail back toward the car and i ran to Sunday once we came out of the thick of it to tell her that he was found. Back at the car we quickly made him strip off the nasty nast clothes and socks he was wearing, switching them out for warm, dry, much better smelling alternatives. The nasty nast was tied up in his trash bag and carefully sealed in the rocket box, not to be opened until we were safely back in Des Moines and seconds from a washing machine.
After we tended to our fallen leaders, we waited for Kyle. Smiling, wet and happy to see us, Kyle came trotting down the trail about 30 minutes later. Slightly blistered but in good spirits, we helped Kyle get out of his Nasty nast and then loaded up in the minivan to drive back to Leadville. There was a huge prime rib dinner with our names on it. The race was a learning experience for all of us and when we go back next year, we will be pros! Thanks for the experience, guys!
The beauty of the Winfield area...

Th courageous, conquering heros....