Just for the heck of it, I thought it’d be neat to rate all the races I’ve done – very subjectively – according to a few criteria. Feel free to agree or disagree (but please say why) and comment  – or add your own races.

My ranking system:

Physical difficulty: how hard is this race in how much energy and effort does one have to expend to finish it? Though subjective, my ratings are – not surprisingly – fairly correlated with winning times, at least for races that had some top runners.
Finishing difficulty: how difficult is this race to finish in the allotted time? This really is the question – how much time do you have. Again, fairly correlated with overall finishing percentage, though some races have more rookies while others only allow seasoned runners.
Fun: how much fun is it overall? Very subjective. I like rugged crazy stuff, hanging with fun people, unusual adventures.
Scenery: how beautiful is it? This is of course highly subjective, but dings will be given for road sections, loops, etc.

The races are listed in the order in which I’ve done them – NOT in a ranking order. Scales are open-ended with 1 being the lowest. Of course everything is relative. Also it’s surprisingly difficult to keep rankings straight over so many races, so I might make some adjustments later …

Cascade Crest Classic

2005 course. My first, and of course that makes it special. It’s a “classic” with a large variety of different terrain, good challenges, overall a great mix of stuff. It’s a great race for a first 100, or to do at any time. Highly recommended.

Physical difficulty: 5
Around 20k ft climbing, minor elevation – difficult for sure. Some difficult trail sections, nothing too tedious though. I’m using this to set the scale for a moderately difficult hundred. From what people tell me it’s a bit harder than Western States, for reference.

Finishing difficulty: 5
32 hours is generous. Finishing rates hover around 70%

Scenery: 8
The Cascades are gorgeous, and you get great views, little road/civilization. Very beautiful. Some fire roads though.

Fun: 7
This race has been around, the aid stations have character, the course itself has a lot of special little treats: the trail from hell, the cross-country section”, the rope … and lots of good singletrack.

Bear

My second hundred – a very low-key event in a beautiful setting. The first year my race number was hand-written on the back of an old marathon race number!

Physical difficulty: 7
More climbing than CCC and higher elevation, variable weather, it’s colder at night – this race is by no means easy.

Finishing difficulty: 5
You have plenty of time, and good aid station support.

Scenery: 8
This one was difficult. While the views of the Wasatch mountains and the lake are incredible, there’s a lot of fire road, which takes a bit away from it. Somehow the 2005 course seemed more scenic to me, though the descent down to Bear Lake is nothing short of breathtaking (also because it’s hella steep). The fall colors make this a very special course as well.

Fun: 106
It’s a difficult race with some serious challenges – temps in the 20s at night, steep ascents and descents. I am very bummed Leland’s ledge – a crazy but fun cross-country section – is gone, which would have bumped the fun factor up +2. Point to point is awesome, but the organization at the finish means if you don’t have anyone pick you up, you wait for hours … though you get to chat with fellow racers! It was also my first date with Jill, which is a +100!!!

San Diego

2008 course. 2010+ is different.

Physical difficulty: 3
“Only” about 12k ft of climbing, good runnable trails, usually pretty predictable weather.

Finishing difficulty: 3
Plenty of time. Lots of rookies do this race, which explains the lower finisher rate.

Scenery: 5
The desert is sure beautiful, though not very mountainous and just comparing to Cascade Crest for example not quite as exciting. However, it IS remote. The original course up to ’06 had more interesting views of the desert as far as I recall.

Fun: 5
It’s got good friends and great aid stations. 2008 had two loops, which is a bit arduous, but the current course looks like a bit of a gordian knot to me, with some out and back, but overall less repetition, so it’s probably gonna be a 6 at least. The past few years the weather at the finish was so horrid (extremely windy) that no one stuck around, which was sort of a bummer.

Massanutten

I presume you may love it or hate it. But most people I know sort of hate it. Why? Goddamn rocks. Ironically it was probably one of the best races I’ve had, with a great group of runners which inspired me to a good performance. The people are as fun as the course is terrible. Somehow I’ve never had any desire to go back simply because the course is not good for the ankles and it’s a long way from the west coast.

Physical difficulty: 6
Not too much climbing, not at altitude. It can be hot, which makes this hard. The major issue in my view is the atrocious footing and the painfully sharp rocks. It’s really more tedious than hard, and if you resign yourself to walk the thing, it’s not all that bad.

Finishing difficulty: 5
36 hours makes up for anything but the possibility of injury. That said, even the famous Hans Dieter Weisshaar sprained his ankle quite badly the year I ran it.

Scenery: 2
Mostly in woods, and compared to the Cascades for example it’s just not as exciting. That’s not to say it’s not pretty.

Fun: 5
The aid station people are awesome. The runners are fun – a very different crowd from the west coast folks, especially Gary Knipling of course, quite the character! But those rocks … the running is tedious. It’s a 10 for the people and a 0 for the course. Sorry.

Tahoe Rim Trail

2007 course. The current course has added some significant climbing, making this harder. Parts of the course are deceptively runnable, making it oh so easy to feel like an old man at mile 50 … which is what happened to me.

Physical difficulty: 6
Even though the ’07 course didn’t have much climbing (I think less than 18k ft) and very runnable trails, the relatively high average elevation got to me – this was hard, and mile 50 felt like mile 80 to me. The current course is probably a bit harder.

Finishing difficulty: 5
The time limit was fairly generous, though recent finisher rates were below 60%, probably a combination of heat, altitude and some killer climbs and the oh so easy possibility to cut it short at mile 50.

Scenery: 8
It’s Tahoe, duh! Dings for two loops and some less scenic sections (like the red house loop), still it gets very high marks.

Fun: 5
The two loop format makes this hard, and the finish line didn’t invite any lingering though the pre-race setting was fun. It’s a great group of people, though and an awesome race.

Wasatch Front

Another classic. The tagline “the hardest race you’ll ever love” is not correct, but it’s a good race.

Physical difficulty: 9
There’s a LOT of climbing. Elevations are high enough to matter. Hot in the day, cold at night, variable weather.

Finishing difficulty: 5
The time limit seems sufficient. It’s hard but if you keep truckin .. just get out of Brighton store, the place people are most likely to drop, because it’s oh so cold outside and it’s oh so cozy in there. Get out!

Scenery: 8
Great views of the Wasatch mountains, it’s a gorgeous area. Point to point and remote.

Fun: 6
This race had a great finish area, where people could hang out and have fun! The race support is also awesome, of course – and it’s a beautiful and challenging course. What else would one want? No lottery, yeah.

HURT

One of my all-time favorites. I finally got my 500 mile jacket (with 560 official miles)!

Physical difficulty: 12 – While not at altitude, the very challenging footing, together with long darkness, lots of climbing and usual humid warm weather make this a significant effort. In a good run I am still slower here than I was at Wasatch when I was sick for a third of the race. In a good year, it’s maybe a 10, but in a bad year it’s more like a 14 – in slick conditions it can be a real struggle to finish.

Finishing difficulty: 16
This race is probably – along with Plain – THE hardest to finish (of the ones I’ve done). Depending on conditions, rates range from 50% down to 20%. There’s simply not enough time. Some say it’s the loops or the 100k option (which no longer exists) but this not the main reason – it can be very very hard.

Scenery: 8
While there are loops, it is a very unique course. The Hawaiian mountains are incredible and there’s no other hundred (I know of yet) in such a tropical environment. The night views are amazing. It’s simply so different from all the other mountainous races that I find it deserves a high ranking.

Fun: 10
The loops and out and back sections help here, you get to see everyone, it’s a very tight-knit group, it’s super-hard and you probably will be ridiculed, despite your feet looking like raw hamburgers. Sounds like fun to me!

Headlands

My home course! It’s a wonderful little race set up by awesome people in one of the most awesome areas I know – the gorgeous Marin headlands.

Physical difficulty: 4
It’s got some killer climbs, but the trails are all quite easy. If there were rain, it would probably creep up, because those trails can become pretty nasty …

Finishing difficulty: 4
Fair amount of time to finish.

Scenery: 7
The only ding here is for the loops. The course omit gems like Stinson Beach and Mt. Tam, though those were inaccessible to races for a while and make organization a lot harder. But Pirate’s Cove, the Golden Gate, SF … pretty spectacular.

Fun: 10
Running with all my local friends? Can’t be beat.

Plain

After I finished CCC100, a guy named Tom Ripley was chatting with us and he mentioned I should do the Plain. “What’s that” I asked. He laughed “Just a little run with no aid and no course markings. Some years we have a finisher.”. “Haha” I said.
Now it ranks very close to the top of my list, only TDG can displace it because of scheduling. If I had to pick, White Mountains might be higher, but that’s a totally different challenge.

Physical difficulty: 12
There are a few things that make Plain hard. The course itself is moderately difficult – ~20k ft climbing, can be hot, some cold at night, mostly good trails except for some very rutted incredibly dusty moto trails. But having to haul all your food, carrying a lot of water makes this simply hard. There are no comfort foods, no hot soup. Also, the course is long by 6 or so miles. Course finding is easy, though unnerving as there are no reassurances except for SAR checkpoints every ~20 miles. Oh, and those guys will gladly let you walk the wrong way. They’ll just come looking for you …

Finishing difficulty: 15
Now that more people have done it, and more information is available, it’s somewhat easier to know where water is etc. But still, you have to have your act way more together than at a normally supported race – a small mistake can cost you your finish. Thus finishing rates are low, and it is a formidable challenge. The time it takes to gather water, haul your gear, and the fact the course is a bit long makes the 36 hours fairly tight.

Scenery: 10
There are some incredible views to be had, raging wild rivers, creeks, expansive views of the Cascades, and except for start/finish no house in sight. One minor paved section, though it seems like a road in the middle of nowhere.

Fun: 10
This is a wild adventure! You meet crazy folks, and the feeling of being out there on your own devices makes this race unlike any other. It may not be your cup of tea, but it’s mine. This kind of “oh shit, what did I sign up for” feeling … priceless!

Javelina Jundred

Usually my end of year run if I’m in decent injury-free running shape!

Physical difficulty: 2
This is a shortish loop with lots of aid, gentle if at times a little sandy trails, maybe 5k climbing altogether. The possible heat and complete lack of shade does make it a challenge though.

Finishing difficulty: 2
Even if the heat gets you, it’s not really hard to finish this in 30 hours – relatively speaking. Still, the course has a low finisher rate because there are a lot of rookies, and a lot of people go out too fast.

Scenery: 4
The loop gets a bit old, though the desert views are quite beautiful, and the night is thanks to cloudless skies a treat in itself.

Fun: 8
The “washing machine” format makes it extremely easy to keep track of all racers. If you have friends there, it’s a blast. The costume contest adds flavor to it, and everyone is very laid back. It’s pretty much a big party in the desert. Also you do get to witness some epic meltdowns in some of the runners, not that that’s in any way fun, you know.

Coyote 2 Moon

Warning: I’ve seen the RD of this race in a full-body cow costume on the course. Enter at your own risk!

Physical difficulty: 10
I think this is harder than Wasatch despite less climbing because you do two nights, and the weather is pretty crazy. It can be either hot in the day and freezing cold at night, or goddamn cold and rainy in the day and holy crap cold at night.

Finishing difficulty: 5-10
This is one of the fun parts of this race. The RD will put you in a start group that should make it equally hard for everyone. Depending on how lazy he thinks you are, you gotta haul! The second time I did it I was in a group that had a cut-off one hour less than my previous year’s finishing time.

Scenery: 7
The course is actually surprisingly beautiful. I thought I knew that general topography, but it’s definitely got some excellent hills with a surprising remoteness, and some very pretty valleys and canyons.

Fun: 9
This race IS all about fun. On the runner’s expense. You get bonus minutes for eating “paté” (aka catfood) or drinking Whisky or eating oysters. Being ill-tempered and whiny will get you boner minutes. It’s a really fun atmosphere, and you have a chance to meet up later in the race with other faster and slower racers due to the staggered start.

Hardrock

Ironically Hardrock was the first hundred I’ve ever heard of (from Chuck Wilson) and for a good reason it’s one of the most sought after races in Northern America. Of course that’s also the reason I only got in once for six applications – because people always want to go back.

Physical difficulty: 17
Wow I pulled that number out of nowhere, so let me explain: it’s got a lot of climbing. It’s got an average elevation of ~11k, and tops out at 14k ft. It’s steep. It has some rugged trails. It is very demanding.

Finishing difficulty: 7
Despite the fact it’s very difficult, and despite the most strict qualification – there’s simply a lot of time to finish this, and a lot of people can finish this who have no chance at HURT. You can hike this comfortably without issues. Course finding can be challenging and requires you to pay serious attention, the markers are sparse and not always obvious. Weather can be life-threatening as well.

Scenery: 20
It’s THAT beautiful. Just look at the pictures.

Fun: 14
Since people usually acclimate for a while in Silverton, it’s an event like few others. Participating in course marking or scouting with fellow runners makes it much more likely you have a great time with old and new friends. The whole race is quite the production.

Bighorn

Physical difficulty: 8
There isn’t all too much climbing, though mud and elevation make this quite challenging. It can also be quite hot during the day.

Finishing difficulty: 7
It seems like the time limit is reasonably generous, though often finisher rates are lacking – the combination of everything makes this harder than it should be looking at the stats alone.

Scenery: 15
You start out into an incredible canyon next to a raging wild river, this is simply an amazing area. Some people like this better than Hardrock even, though I love alpine views too much. Still, it left me in awe, and I would say it’s an absolute must-do race.

Fun: 10
Out and back is a fun format to meet your fellow runners at least once, great aid stations, excellent pre and post race activities. Really there’s nothing not to like.

Swan Crest

The Swan Crest is a very small race and probably will only get smaller, unfortunately. It’s wild and crazy. You have to carry bear spray. And watch a bear video.

Physical difficulty: 11
There are very few aid stations and there’s a lot of climbing – around 24k. Trails are partially very rugged – one section of avalanche debris was extremely challenging (though not usually part of the course), and one poorly maintained section kept me wondering if I was off-course.

Finishing difficulty: 11
Definitely this race is a post-graduate race. Even though there are aid stations, the course markings are very sparse without reassurance markers and overall this is a very rugged race. If you expect to be pampered, stay home. Some people expressed criticism about the organization, which I reject outright – I thought it was perfectly organized – and as advertised.

Scenery: 14
This area in Montana is very beautiful, with expansive views, trails on knife ridges, just amazing. Some road sections and the lack of a proper wild river (though the crossing of the Quintonkin added fun) puts this maybe a bit below Bighorn (sorry Danni!!!!) but not by much.

Fun: 110
I am very biased on this one. I met Jill there (+100, of course). I went with my best friend Steve, and we had a generally awesome time. The finish venue is great since we had cabins right at the finish.

Tor Des Geants

This is the big one (for now). 200 miles. 80000ft of climbing. 24 mountain passes. Everyone but you wears Hoka One One’s, and guess what, you wish you had them, too. Because your feet hurt. And yes, I got a pair now.

Physical difficulty: 50
This race is hard. Somehow adding those 10k ft of climbing per 100 miles compared to Hardrock makes it just all the much harder – even without the altitude (though it does hit 11000ft – with a low point of 1000ft on the course). I felt the first 100 miles were much more difficult than Hardrock. The second ones would have been more difficult on fresh legs. They’re extremely difficult on tired legs. Trails are mostly runnable, though rocky and some parts are scree and boulder fields that are fairly challenging.

Finishing difficulty: 15
Although the race is super-hard, there is ample time and great support. Injury is probably the biggest enemy, but the medics are the best I’ve seen in terms of foot care and such. Accordingly, it’s not necessarily the fitter people who are more likely to finish.

Scenery: 30
Call me biased, but the Mont Blanc Massif (and Alps in general) has some of the world’s most beautiful mountains outside the Himalayas. I think they’re much more rugged and crazy looking than the San Juans, and the variety on the course is actually fairly big – historic villages, lush valleys, rugged mountain passes.

Fun: 20
It’s hard to call this race “fun” because it’s in a way so epic. Being completely sleep-deprived (which I did on purpose) led to some interesting effects, the people are awesome, it’s long enough you really feel like you’re in a different world. The only downside is that I should have learned Italian, because most people don’t speak english. But because of that I got to spend hours with one of the world’s best pro climbers!

Susitna

I had long been avoiding Susitna because I always thought I didn’t deal with cold very well and was afraid of frostbite and such. Turns out I was wrong – not only that, but I also got inexplicably hooked on winter racing. It’s hard to explain the fascination that an extremely remote trail on a frozen river somewhere in the wilderness at -20°F has, but I presume you either love it or hate it.

Physical difficulty: 14
My buddy Jamshid claims this race is so easy, but he’s full of crap on this one. Yes it’s basically flat. But consider this: you’re pulling 25-35lbs of crap on a sled. You’re running/walking on a surface that at best has the consistency of wet sand, often powdery. It’s very tiring, and very tough. Moreover, winter races have wildly varying conditions – it can be beautifully packed and easy (though I suspect it never is really that easy for runners) or – with fresh snow or a melt – a horrible postholing exercise. Also aid stations are 20 miles apart – so you gotta be prepared. Also if you have the opportunity to train a lot on snow, this is probably a bit easier than my ranking would suggest – but I found it to be quite slow going!

Finishing difficulty: 6
You got 48 hours, and that’s really quite a lot. But, you are more likely to develop issues, and if you get frostbite, you’re out (if you know what’s good for you). I did not factor into this the required learning curve – if you don’t have your gear properly set up, you really run a high risk of injury up to losing digits!

Scenery: 10
You may agree or disagree, but there’s something magical about a winter landscape. The Su gets some dings for too much snowmobile traffic and not enough hills to really take in the scenery. But it’s unlike anything I’ve seen.

Fun: 110
Another one of the +100s … Jill’s first 100 on foot 🙂 Even so, it’s a very curious prep because your gear is so much more complicated, which makes this a unique event – like a multiday stage race in some ways.

White Mountains

This might just be my favorite 100 miler!

A fairly new and very small winter hundred just north of Fairbanks. It’s very remote. Very very remote. Even though the are trails for public recreational use (all we saw were some dog mushers), Alaskans have a bit of a different notion of what “recreational” means.

Physical difficulty: 15
This race adds a few things to Susitna: steep climbs and overflow/glare ice! This race has substantially more climbing than Susitna, a lot of it on the last few miles. The trail conditions were generally worse which was due to some snow falling, and it’s likely that you have to deal with lots of icy overflow, some of it under some water. It’s a fairly serious undertaking.

Finishing difficulty: 5
The time limit of 60 hours is designed for really bad conditions – so under “normal” conditions, it’s far more than enough. Again, this does not factor in the incredible amount of preparation and learning you have to do before you should undertake anything like this.

Scenery: 15
It’s very hard to compare this with other mountainous races. This race has incredible views unlike anything you’ll see in a mountainous race, and there’s enough hills you actually get to see a lot of the surrounding areas. You have a good chance to see northern lights as well …

Fun: 11
This race is really family style – so much so, I stayed in the RD’s house along with some other racers. It’s a very tight knit group, and a great atmosphere.

As it turns out, winter racing is a serious affair if you want to keep your toes and such. Having your gear dialed in, and knowing how to use it, is very important. Here’s a few things I learned, and items I like to use … and this is really not even a remotely complete list of the stuff you really need (or should be thinking about needing at least) for a good winter adventure …

Note that I’m a pack-rat and also not exactly the most experienced winter racer, so you should by no means assume this is a list of any authority. It’s just supposed to give you an idea what worked for me and what didn’t … so far. I’ve got a lot more to dial in, and I think I could go much lighter if I really knew what I was doing …

Mittens: RBH VaprMitts

These are some very bad-ass mittens, and easily my all-time favorite clothing item. They are extremely warm, based on the vapor barrier system, and extremely versatile (I did some research and those do seem like some of the best mittens one can buy, and I wasn’t disappointed). A system of a the mitten shell and various liners worked wonders for me. Usually I start out with the shells (which are extremely thin) dangling from my wrists and gloves. When my fingers get cold, I can slip on the shells. When the temps drop, you can switch from gloves to fleece mittens (Generally I find if things get frosty, gloves make my hands cold). For really low temperatures I use the mid-weight mitten liners from RBH (the hybrid liner) which I ordered with the mitten and which are way hot, and easily kept my hands warm in -20F – I expect to have no problems even much lower. One thing I did is use thin gloves as a third layer. While they don’t add any warmth, they are very useful if you need to take your hands out to do things – a thin glove can extend the time you can operate your fingers considerably (and when it’s very cold, that time can be in the range of minutes). If you’re expecting it to be really crazy cold, the altitude liner from RBH should do the trick. I always bring a number of hand layers, they are light, and it’s essential you have a dry set.

Honorable mention: A nice midweight fleece mitt is the OR PL 400 .

Vapor barrier clothing is an interesting phenomenon. Some love it, some hate it. It works for mittens easily and also for socks. I have a VB shirt, which is a two-edged sword. It is warm, but it’s not fun when it’s wet. You’ll feel cold, but not REALLY cold – it’s uncomfortable but presumably safer because you don’t mess up your insulation layers. I still need to experiment more with those. The RBH website has an explanation of the principles behind VB clothing. It requires a good amount of discipline to use this system optimally.

Jacket: OR Mentor

Outdoor experts like Dave Chenault will call bullshit on a waterproof breathable shell in the cold, and to a certain extent that’s right: if it’s cold, breathing doesn’t work well. You always end up with a layer of ice inside your jacket (if not on a lower layer). However, this jacket still has a lot of good going for it:

1. In Alaska, especially for multiday adventures, you can hit a wide variety of weather. When it gets warmish, snow or (gasp) rain can happen. This shell is stormproof with sealed everything, and absolutely windproof (which is a feature of the material, GoreTex ProShell).
2. It has a good set of pockets which work well with a belt for a sled, since they’re designed to be used with climbing harnesses – same thing. Hold a LOT of stuff. Well placed.
3. It has a DOUBLE main zipper (my other Arcteryx jacket doesn’t – booo!). When it’s cold and you want to vent, it’s better to vent down there but keep your throat covered – at least that’s what I feel.
4. The side vents go all the way to the hem, so you can use the jacket as a poncho. That rocks! Pit zips don’t usually work well – pain in the ass to operate. These zips rock.
5. Adjustability all over, as one would expect – hem, hood. The hood, while helmet-sized, can still be used without and you get a nice high neck, making for some seriously stormproof or wind/cold-fighting prowess.

This is my go-to jacket when the going gets tough. Don’t expect too much in the way of breathability particularly in the cold, but the easy venting more than makes up for that. Why spend $400 for a plastic poncho then, you ask? Because if you look hard and are patient, you may be able to snap one up for <$200, at which point it looks like a good deal – you just don’t get that level of functionality in a simple shell jacket.

Pants: North Face windstopper tights

I got a closeout model. They’re Gore Windstopper fabric pants, and I have to say I’m a big fan of that material. They operate well in an enormous range of temperatures for me – from 40ºF to -20ºF with a 20mph wind (ok they weren’t quite adequate for that, but they kept me going nonetheless without any frost burns of any kind).

Shell: Marmot DriClime Windshirt

In the winter, the wind is your enemy. Not only does it suck your energy away, but it can make dressing a real pain, since often the wind changes much more significantly and quickly than the actual temps. Having a windblocker lets you not only stay warm, but, if properly layered, you don’t have to adjust as much when the wind picks up. This shirt is light, has a relaxed fit which I really like, and feels great with a lightweight brushed fleece inner layer. Having a layer with a full zipper allows for better venting and access if you put your camelback underneath.

Gaiters: OR Crocodile

I’ve had good experiences with these – they are waterproof (Gore-Tex, see disclaimer above …), rocksolid, high and keep your legs and feet happy. I believe that Gaiters like these help a lot keeping your toes warm, because they keep your lower legs and ankles warm due to full wind protection (and simply adding a layer there). All major serious Gaiters probably mostly work well, you just should make sure you get the right size and try them out. I would pick high gaiters for longer races.

Cap: Mountain Hardwear Windstopper Micro Dome

For $14 at Sierra Trading Post this may be the best bang for the buck on this list. It’s warm, windstopper fabric rules, and it’s soft and works well even with wet hair. Very versatile, and it allows you to use the non-windproof fleece balaclava effectively via layering. I also like the peruvian style hats, though they make me sort of deaf.

Balaclava: Seirus Hoodz

This one is surprising. It’s super-comfy, holds up well when accumulating moisture, dries quickly and is very warm. Combined with a windstopper cap or by using the hood on my jacket, it gets me very far in the cold. This balaclava also has an adjustable fit which is useful.  I’ve also used:

• Thin under armor balaclava: nice, but once it ices up, restricts your breathing! Doesn’t work when it’s cold. It would seem that’d be the problem with any tightly woven fabric.
• OR Windstopper Gorilla Clava: This is a monster. It has a neat multi-deachable nose and mouthpiece. While it may still find use in harshest conditions particularly with high winds, windstopper material tends to harden up a lot when it gets wet, and the velcro used to attach those pieces makes it hard to really get a good fit – especially when it’s cold and you wear mittens. Still, for very long races, a windblocking balaclava will be part of my gear as well.

But in the end, this pretty cheapo and fairly simple balaclava seems the best to me.

Note: I also have a Turtle Fur fleece neck gaiter (basically a fleece bandanna) and that thing is also seriously awesome when it gets frigid.

Socks: RBH VaprTherm sock

These are some serious vapor barrier socks. They’re quite thick, with a fleece insulation layer on the outside of the barrier, and very warm. The big advantage of these over regular fleece socks, especially when used with waterproof shoes that basically don’t breathe, is that the insulation layer and the shoe stays dry – there’s nothing more of a downer than wet shoes. Use them with some liner socks that work well when wet (like Drymax socks) and add some hydropel and you have one possible system for warm feet. Note though that if your feet are warm depends on a lot of factors – core temp, how cold your legs are, how stiff and tight your shoes are etc.

Baselayer: Skinfit Klima

This has been my favorite baselayer for a long time. It feels good when wet and dries very quickly. And it’s made in the Alps 🙂 I also like Craft midweight baselayers, they have similar properties.

Synthetic insulation: Skinfit Caldo Jacket

Basically a placeholder for any lightweight primaloft jacket, though Skinfit does its version as usual very well, with a lightweight built-in hood. I also usually bring the Patagonia nano-puff, though the jacket is only marginally heavier and due to the full zip vastly more versatile. If I had to chose, I’d go with the jacket. As is well known, primaloft maintains some insulating properties when wet, as opposed to down, which makes this an important part of my gear list.

Headlamp: Fenix HP-20

Bit on the pricy side, and slightly heavier compared to it’s small brother, the HP-10 (which outputs the same amount of light). This guy has a number of things going for it:

• Remote battery pack. Keep it warm, hell, put it down your pants. I won’t tell anybody. Even keeping it in the outside pocket of my shell I got 1 1/2 long nights of use out of 4AA batteries (but Energizer Lithiums only).
• Remote on/off/mode switch that has led’s. That one’s really awesome. Don’t fiddle with the lamp on your head, justclick those things. Sweet.
• Bomb-proof. It’s pretty heavy duty.
• Downside: cable mess. Especially when putting the battery pack in your jacket, it makes taking the jacket off a pain.

Also, don’t be a dummy like Steve and always take out the batteries or what I do put a small piece of paper or cardboard in the battery compartment preventing contact of the battery to avoid having the light turn itself on accidentally in your luggage. And then forget to test it before the race … oh Steve. Like a rookie. Honorable mention: Fenix HP-10 – my non-winter headlamp. Great output, great battery life, great price for the performance.

Whatever you bring, use lithium batteries. They’re pricey, but an added bonus is that they only weigh half as much as alkalines (for the AA Energizer version).

Traction: Katoolah Microspikes

These things ROCK. Forget YakTraks – those are useless (fall of your shoes and don’t do well on ice). These things work great on ice, and you can run in them without any worry or issues. They’re not, however, snow traction devices. Ice and very hard-packed snow is the sweet spot. But they fit an enormous range of shoes securely – I was able to put my L size Katoolahs over my insulated size 14 baffin boots which are extremely big. I didn’t bring those for Susitna, since I knew there is no ice to speak of, but I had and used them in the White Mountains, and I used them a lot during training in snow – lifesaver when you hit glare ice.

Shoes: Blahblah GTX

Anyone recommending any specific shoe to you is a liar or dumb, and magazines reviewing shoes are just laughable – it’s just business. Shoes need to suit your foot, the way you run, etc. There are a few things I learned:

• Running shoes are sufficient to keep your feet warm IF you’re moving.
  This is in stark contrast to biking, and I attribute this to the fact that your flexing your foot and using your toes to stabilize during running or walking actually entices enough circulation in your feet to keep them warm. Unless your shoes are wet, that is one of the major issues with cold feet, and you can have gigantic boots and still numb toes if there’s no circulation. Some people use light hiking shoes as well, with no problem. For long events, as added security, I will probably bring insulated overboots though. You just never know.
• Size up!
  I usually size up one size for ultras, but for winter ultras I sized up two sizes. More important than anything is that your shoes are not tight, as any constriction in circulation will make your feet cold. No tight socks, and no overly tight lacing either. Adding sock layers, if they make your shoe tight, won’t do you any good.
• Gore-Tex works, sometimes
  A Gore-Tex shoe is basically a lined rubber boot in effect. You probably won’t sweat quite as much, but there’s no escaping the fact that they’re just not breathable enough. They work really well in extreme cold, because your feet probably won’t sweat all that much. Protection from occasional overflow and melting ice at the checkpoints is really welcome here. However, they did pose a problem in warm temperatures for me – they got wet inside, and they will stay wet unless you take the time to dry them out. Vapor barrier works for that, but your feet will be wet. That’s something that can be dealt with (Hydropel), but it needs to be taken into account.

As for minimalist running shoes: obviously they don’t work in the cold, I presume even the craziest proponents of those shoes will realize that. But y’all know it’s just a fad, right? There are like a million reasons why it’s bullshit.

Overshoes: Wiggy’s Waders

I haven’t really needed them yet, but they beat plastic bags for protection from overflow and running water. Put on the waders and strap on the Katoolahs and you’re secure, dry and worry-free. Plus they only weigh 9oz, which is a small penalty to pay to avoid potentially toe and race-threatening wet feet! Plus they’re waist-high, which, believe it or not, can be needed!

Down coats: Feathered Friends Hyperion Jacket and Nunatak Torre Parka

Down is the king of warmth. The Hyperion is Jill’s lightweight jacket and it’s wonderfully small, incredibly warm despite just 11oz of weight. I got the Helios, however it is too slim (and most importantly short) a cut – if you get one, order one size up from your normal size. I got the parka for colder and longer adventures and couldn’t really put it fully to the test yet , just as pre-/post-race clothing for White Mountains – however it is insanely warm and has great features:

• Detachable hood
• Cavernous exterior pockets with plenty of down just for the pockets
• Gigantic interior pockets that allow you to store multiple 1l-bottles in your jacket
• Extremely high quality down (875+ fill), and lots of it

The FF jackets are surprisingly not that expensive and I’d pick them over Patagonia or such any day, the Nunatak is made to order and definitely not cheap – but it’s a great piece of equipment, with every detail thought out. Plus the Nunatak is handmade in the USA (the FF ones are made in Canada).

During the Susitna, both Jill and I ended up wearing our FF jackets for parts of the run, and we were glad we had them …

Rain/wind pants: Skinfit Scudo Pant

THE lightest waterproof windproof breathable full-zip pant I could find. Actually the lightest full-zip pant altogether. Again with the breathability, but these are waterproof with waterproof zippers and sealed seams, reinforced in the seat and knee area, with extra zips to allow them to go over boots. Whatever you end up getting (since I gave mine to Jill I am using the cheaper heavier Marmot PreCip pants, which aren’t too bad either) the full zip is really important to me. You don’t want to take your shoes off to put on pants – ever. It’s come in handy in many races, not only winter ones. Also you can unzip to vent, another invaluable feature. Full zip rules.

The last mile of Swan Crest … it was miserably hot, I thought I was gonna pass out from a heatstroke, and I walked very slowly towards the finish line. No one was behind me, so I wasn’t in a hurry … my spirit was gone, and I simply lacked any mental energy to get myself to speed up. Usually I put in at least a few hundred yards of finish sprint in … I think I mustered ten. But as soon as I was at the finish, I was grinning, talking smack and generally happy – it’s the one thing I’m pretty good at: pretending it never happened. Good so, because it caught the attention of Jill (who I noticed immediately but I thought was too cute to be interested in me) who struck up a conversation after Danni introduced us. Very quickly it came up that Jill had done the Tour Divide – and suddenly a lot of clicks happened in my head – earlier at Bighorn I ran with Leslie (who is a good friend of Jill’s) who told me about the Tour Divide, this crazy mystical race that only insane ultra-athletes can even begin to understand, and only the hardest-core thereof can finish, and a friend of hers who had done it (Jill, of course). I was immediately star-struck … when Jill expressed interest in running 100 milers, I scoffed – “You could do one tomorrow!”. I scoffed because I know people – especially myself – with a fraction of her prowess who can do it. I even went so far to try to talk her into doing one the following week (and I still think she could have done that …). And I didn’t even realize she holds the woman’s course record on the Tour Divide until much later!

Since then I’ve had the privilege to see her up close, and I have to say she’s even more impressive than I thought. But then I became somewhat suspicious – how could this be real? Let’s look at the facts I gathered during her short run training. I think of myself as a somewhat accomplished endurance runner at least in terms of finishing stuff, so I’ll contrast my own experiences:

	Beat	Jill
Complaining	Wine & Cheese award at HURT	Never. Ever
Rest day	Maybe an hour on the trainer	I got lost and ended up running 4 hours. Felt great though.
Weekly average	10 hours	20 hours
First ultra run	See below	50 miles on NO training. Minor foot problem that quickly disappears
First ultra race (50k)	well trained, 7:15, unable to walk the next day	3 weeks of some run-training, 6:58, no soreness
Time between first ultrarun and first 100m	10+ months	2 months
General endurance	Gets tired after 4 hours	Warms up after 4 hours
Temerature sensitivity	Gets slow in heat and cold	Claims doesn’t like heat, but unable to prove it
Final thoughts in a race	Thank god its over. Where’s the bed?	Sniff. It’s over already???

The list could go on and on. Jill is really sort of superhuman in a rather suspicious way. I checked back on some pictures of her “ski bunny” outfit and analyzed it with a novel technique that can detect residual electroweak interference patterns even in JPEG-processed digital camera pictures, which is an effect of latent quantum entanglement. Using advanced image processing techniques I found a shocking revelation, as seen in Fig. 1. I was able to identify the battery as a lithium one (ironically she seems to be using Energizer batteries)., which explains perfectly Jill’s cold-resistance and extreme endurance. Everything suddenly makes sense, her strange affinity for “bunny” costumes, her preference to be alone during restroom breaks, her perking up during exercise and of course her superhuman endurance.

On a more serious note, it needs to be said that I am not exaggerating Jill’s extreme endurance – she is simply impossible to keep up with. She challenges herself constantly. And beyond the pure endurance part I found her to be one of the most successful people I’ve ever met – although she loves to write about her occasional mishaps and unpreparedness – in the end she actually has everything under control, knows what she wants and succeeds in almost everything she sets out to do, and lives her life with a clarity and purpose that I have rarely seen in my life. She really is much more awesome than her blog conveys – and all of this while being the most down to earth, nice, beautiful and intelligent person you could imagine. Which makes me the luckiest bastard in the world. Yeah!