On Athletes Transcending Gitchigumi
by Phillip Gary Smith

Volatility is a staple of weather in the Superior Forest, sharing its mountainous, thickly wooded terrain with the world's largest inland fresh water ocean. Highly visible to its East, spoken as Gitchi-gumi in the Ojibwe language, maps know it as Lake Superior. The omnipresent water dominates the region's climate along with its economy, eco-structure, and traditions of life. Lyrical Longfellow immortalized these haunting forests and the vistas of Lake Superior in his epic "The Song of Hiawatha" by penning

. . . Dark behind it rose the forest,
Rose the black and gloomy pine-trees,
Rose the firs with cones upon them;
Bright before it beat the water,
Beat the clear and sunny water,
Beat the shining Big-Sea-Water.

Snow, rain, blow-down winds, even a gigantic forest fire further north a few years ago, combine to make this a challenging expanse to conduct foot races before one ever steps a trail shoe on the revered Superior Hiking Trail (SHT) — paths cut over rocks, roots, through streams, bridging rivers rushing wildly as if to escape their narrow confines to feed Lake Superior's thirsty gullet. Dirt runners gather annually to challenge these conditions in forests Henry Wadsworth Longfellow made infamous so long ago, making way up and down the sawtooth patterns of the water-cut mountain peaks in the same shadowy woods the Ojibwe roamed, following pathways they travelled, where they lived, hunted, fought . . . and died. There is little time to sense all of this, though, as the competition gets underway. Many don't realize it at all.

Weeks before the spring Superior Trail races began, a freakish ice storm devastated the forests. Occurring in a time of the year called bebookwedaagime-giizis by the Objiwe, meaning 'breaking of the snowshoe,' a period when the thawing of the frozen ground and snow is underway, this tempest arrived as a shock, breaking trees off at their tops, literally making the trails not only impassable but unfindable. The cracking sounds heard were ghosts of Gitchi-gumi laughing at the plans of man.

The Superior Hiking Trail Association garnered its troops and volunteers, and the Upper Midwest Trail Runners Association took multiple crews to the area for two consecutive weekends to saw, chop, and move by hand tons of wooded debris to get the trails reopened.

What did they get as their reward? Unbelievably, the quickest time ever for this race.

A long standing record (3:56:09), established by Charlie Hubbard running in the masters age class, often assaulted by top trail jockeys but never broken, fell under the amazing pace set by 33 year old Minneapolitan, Chris Lundstrom, notching a blazing 3:48:54. Charlie manned the turnaround, as he has for years, at the Carlton Peak climb for this out and back course. Gazing over the bouldered top to the distant vastness and the dreamy blues of the lake, he no doubt realized Chris was on track to capture his time banner.

And, why not? Chris Lundstrom is at the national elite level, competing in the Olympic Marathons Trails, and a member of the select Team Minnesota USA. Using this race as training for one of his major 2009 goals, nearby Grandma's Marathon road race, may have helped Chris to a tenth place overall finish in that circus. The big climb on their paved route would only be a bump in the wicked ups and downs Superior offers as an inducement for its participants.

But Lundstrom entered as an unknown, not being a previous trail addict, or as Andy Holak put it, "Chris is unbelievably talented, running a negative split on the way back (meaning he took less time on the way in than he did in the 15.5 miles heading out). Unfortunately, I didn't find out his resume until the race was over."

Andy describes the scene from the front: "Going out from the start Chris hit the trail in first, and I hit the trail second. Early on I had him in sight all the way, and when we started the steep climb up Moose Mountain on the way out, Chris was running it. I didn't know who he was and had never seen him in an ultra trail race before (an ultra being a competition longer than 26.2 miles). He looked like a pretty young guy, too, so I thought maybe he was an inexperienced runner. My thought at the time was to let him run those sharp ups, I'll walk 'em, conserving my energy, and I'll see him later . . . he is going to blow himself up running those hills.

"I ran my pace across the top of Moose Mountain — it's about a mile — and before we hit the steep downhill off the south side of Moose, I caught up to him. I thought again, no problem, I can catch him pretty easily on the forested flats. I'll let him blow himself up running the ascents.

"Ha," Holak thought, "I'll use my experience to beat him."

"Just before the first aid station at Oberg we hit a bit steeper climb; Chris ran it, I walked. He got a little ahead of me, out of sight, but I still was not worried about him. Like on a normal day; thinking he was an inexperienced trail racer, I let him go."

But this was no normal day in the traditional sense of the word, but only so in the Superior definition. Gretchen Perbix, race director with husband, Mike, said, "What a crazy day of weather! But the racers made it through, but with muddy legs with the cold and snowy backdrop. At least no one fell from a cracked limb crashing through the canopy in the heavy winds."

Maria Barton, an annual competitor and volunteer at the Superior Races, pointed out, "This was the coldest spring race I can remember, but once the race started I warmed up quickly. Running up Mystery Mountain, you could see a light dusting of snow on everything. It was colder the day of the race than it was when we had been up in March to Lutsen to ski. Crazy but that's the unpredictable Minnesota spring weather."

With victories on these Superior trails — just not this particular race — Andy Holak set a personal best with his second place 4:16:09. The Holaks (Kim and Andy) introduce the new 50km and 100km Wild Duluth ultra trail races in October at the Southern end of the SHT along the tall bluffs of Duluth, Minnesota.

Minneapolis' Joe Ziegenfuss, winner of the 2008 50km Upper Midwest Trail Runners Championship, took third place. Erik Lindstrom in his second attempt at this event knocked 20 minutes off his 2008 time. Then Mr. Smooth, Steve Schuder, a masterly 45, took another top five finish as he has for years.

Jason Husveth, finishing the event with a strong return this year, told me, "The leaders were smokin' going back in as I was still heading out."

The Superior 50km and its challenges continue to attract the region's top performers such as the winner of the women's race, Connie Lutkevich, with a masterly first place 5:27:31 overall. A surgeon in Duluth, Connie had recently completed the Antarctica Marathon (placing 2nd woman) which reminded her of the Northern Minnesota trails. That experience no doubt proved beneficial in her first appearance here.

Teri Wilkie, another women's master entry, won second overall with Dr. Traci Amundson, a fourth place overall in 2008, moving up a notch despite having competed the previous weekend. Traci quipped, "I just sort of ran relaxed, enjoying the fact that I don't get to see it snow halfway through May every year. Of note were a few icy patches, especially on bridges. There were a few who did not take this into account and met a painful, early race demise."

Julie Berg a medalist contender at any of the Superior events — the sister events in the Fall are a marathon, 50 mile and the nationally recognized Sawtooth 100 — took fourth overall, commenting: "I started out in the back of the pack. I picked my way along the trail. Not many of the leaves were out yet; the winds, oh my gosh, they were loud and raw — heavy, steady winds! I could hear trees breaking off in the woods; I was hoping one wouldn't break on me."

This race is the fourth event of the year for the Fab 5 Fifties Ultra Series. Director, Steve Quick, provided his unique take on the day:

There was still patchy snow at the base of LeVeaux Mountain, but no one built a snowman this year. Although spring is in full stride in the Twin Cities, the trees hadn't leafed out here, so the wind roared over the bluffs. And then the first snowflakes fell; later there'd be horizontal snow pellets making the already soggy course a quagmire in the low spots. Early in the day, some of the numerous boardwalks were slippery. One comes to recognize different types of these: beside corduroy, there are old ones that shift on their supports, long ones that bend at the joints and thick hewn logs which roll. That makes three axes of rotation with which to contend.

At the critical Sawbill Aid station, the last on the way out, the first after the turnaround , Dale Immerfall with his wife, Micki, son, Steffan, and volunteer, Ann, offered a new goodie this year in their buffet of food, Clif Shots. "We used up all we had." On the race, Dale described the leaders as "moving very fast. Most of the top runners did not stop or did not stop for long." In a resounding observation on the grateful runners, he added, "The one thing that always amazes my wife is how thankful and polite the runners are every time they go through the aid station, despite how focused they are on the race and how grueling it can be. Endurance runners are a great group of people, and it is fun staffing the aid station and being a part of the event."

Noting the roles of the volunteers this day, finisher Zach Pierce commented, "The temp was great for my running, and the wind, while menacing sounding, made me realize it was near an absurd level for the aid station and finish line workers; I felt like I definitely had the easier job running."

"Two thumbs up for the women's cut technical t-shirts this year. They are awesome," exclaimed Barton about a popular new feature added to the race souvenirs this year.

"Shirts were Asics; men's were brick red, women's were blue. And yes, we had female sizes this year," noted Gretchen. "It was an exciting day to have two course records broken, the other being Leslie Semler for the womens 25km class," the shorter companion race. "Of course, the course wouldn't have been runnable if it weren't for the effort of volunteers to clear the trail from the blow down that was a result of the mid-March ice storm."

As darkness gathers, an ultra trail run ends the way it is supposed to: runners grateful for the volunteers and race directors, volunteers appreciative of the gratitude of runners, and the race directors giving heart-felt thanks to all. As Amundson noted, "I found a great deal of enjoyment in the camaraderie of others, appreciated the scenery, and realized how lucky we are to have people not only committed to ensuring natural trail systems like the Superior Hiking Trail Association, but also organizing traversing events like the directors do for the Superior Trail Races, all for us to enjoy."

With challenges overcome, obstacles bested, and a triumphant day on the wooded mountain paths complete, all are again anticipating next year to discover what new twists will await the woods, creeks, trails, roots, rocks and rivers of the Superior Trails.

Meanwhile the Gichi-manidoo of these forests and waters lie patiently in wait, as Great Spirits are known to do,

By the shores of Gitche Gumee
By the shining Big-Sea-Water,

planning their mysteries to unveil for those who can share, but never claim the superiority in these lands.

Phillip Gary Smith lives in the Twin Cities. His new book will be announced at www.ultrasuperior.com.