Sometimes you have to follow your heart. No matter where it leads you. My heart led me to this dream race that never should have been, but miraculously was. I’m delighted to present one of my favorite runs to date: the 50 miler division of the Antelope Canyon Ultras!
A mini ramp-up to a big race
It was late February 2020. As we continued to explore North America on our extended vacation, we realized we were falling in love. In love with a landscape and a lifestyle. We were starting to settle in, and our dreams began to feature American plotlines.
One of these potential plots involved the enticing idea of doing a race. With our Asian races on the ropes, we thought we should probably go for it if an opportunity arose. We set our sights on one race – but suddenly became enchanted with another.
Antelope Canyon Ultras looked like a beautiful race course. From the moment I saw it, I knew we had to go. There were a few problems, though: the race was not in our plan, it was one week away – and it was sold out!
Logistical hurdles happen to be my specialty. I began by announcing our intention to be naughty to our coach (who could not exactly endorse the idea of a random 50 miler). Next, I hurried to throw together a last-minute plan that would allow us to work while on the go. Additionally, I spent hours on message boards, trying to find two bibs for sale.
When you are determined enough, things have a way of working themselves out. Everything finally came together for us mere days before the race, so we set off on Great American Road Trip #3!
Although Antelope Canyon Ultras was obviously the highlight of this trip, we decided to make it a desert extravaganza! We had to race to cram in a full day’s work in the evenings, but we’d get up early to make stops at gorgeous destinations like Utah’s Zion National Park – and Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument!
Antelope Canyon Ultras are based in Page, Arizona. My third new state of the trip – and a picture-perfect little town! Before the race, we did an incredibly scenic shake-out run on the Page Rim Trail. We got a nice little preview of the final leg of the course – and amazing views of Lake Powell!
Antelope Canyon Ultras – The 50 Miler
Race day, I woke up excited. It was still pitch black outside on a chilly day in early March while we dressed and drove to the starting line. The organization of the parking lot was our first opportunity to be impressed by the small army of volunteers employed by the race. We ate our breakfast in the car; tucking cold hands under cold legs and waiting until the last minute to emerge.
The wind was blowing relentlessly when we stepped out, and we hurried into a warming hut near the start line. ‘Isn’t this…kind of cold for a desert race?’ we wondered. But we were willing to suffer for the beauty we knew lay ahead. Finally, it was time for the Antelope Canyon Ultras to begin!
We began approximately in the middle of the pack. A surge of headlamps lit the night beyond the starting arch. And the course was interesting right from the start!
We began in deep sand that shifted underfoot. Then, in just a few hundred meters, we had our first brush with slickrock on a tricky upward scramble that required all four limbs. This was just a taste of the technicality to come!
Back on two feet again, we ran south on a sandy road. At a manageable depth, this sand simply felt soft underfoot. But with the wicked wind, it did sometimes fly up and into our faces! As we warmed up, the wind ceased to chill. The most dramatic effect was the sound.
The wind was causing the wires overhead to whistle. It was a high-pitched noise, eerie and continuous. Although I quickly identified the source, the constant hum was penetrating and a little unnerving.
At least, it was in the dark. When the sun came up behind a bank of purple clouds, my visual cortex took over. Although it was an unusual day in the desert, sunrise was still strikingly beautiful. I was not the only runner to pull aside and fumble for my camera!
This dawn brilliance lasted only a matter of minutes. The heavy clouds narrowed, then closed the gap at the horizon. They stretched like a blanket across the whole arc of the sky. But in the morning, now, the wind seemed to blow a little softer.
And soon we were out of the wind altogether! Rounding a bend, we began to descend. We ran down from the high plateau and into our first slot canyon of the Antelope Canyon Ultras!
It came up suddenly, without warning. One moment we were in a sandy wash, running alongside eroded grassy banks, and then next minute the walls had risen by several feet and solidified into hard rock!
This was thrilling running! There was always a wall, seemingly just ahead, Approaching, it wasn’t until the last minute that the twisting route was revealed and a narrow path cut away to the right or left. In this way, we weaved our way through this delightful canyon!
When the canyon widened, our trail led straight up another slickrock chute! I clawed my way to the top, in a line of other runners doing the same. We ran above the slot as it narrowed again, then dropped back down into a dry riverbed.
Here was the first aid station, appearing before we’d even thought to look for it! Kent and I were making excellent time. We started off probably a touch too fast, but we were eager to beat the bottleneck of runners chasing the first strict cut-off time.
Following in the footsteps of races past, we set a goal to spend no more than three minutes at each aid station during the Antelope Canyon Ultras. But there’s always enough time for a handful of jelly beans! The volunteers here were still setting up the snacks, but were happy to tip some treats into my outstretched glove.
The first section took us a clean hour of consistent running. The second section took us slightly longer – because it took us through Antelope Canyon!
Yes, Antelope Canyon Ultras really did take us through its namesake canyon. We ran towards it on a long, straight road. Antelope Canyon first appeared as a paper cut in a wall of orange rock. It widened only enough to admit us when we ran up.
Once inside, running stopped. Even though it was a cloudy day, and too early in the morning for the dramatic spotlights of sun it is famous for, Antelope Canyon was incredible.
The walls were close enough to touch on either side, and stretched high overhead. Twisting, turning and looking upward, we slowly made our way through this crack in the Earth.
Like all wonderful things, it was finished too fast. We wiggled out the other side into the morning, made bright by the darkness of the crevice. After a few more photos, we hurried onward: eager for more exploration!
The turnaround point was not far off, and after reaching it, we climbed up to run in the reverse direction on the plateau above the canyon. We had sweeping views and fun sand slides to slip down. Before we knew it, we were entering another slot canyon!
These only got more enjoyable as the day went on. As the sky brightened, more features were visible. The hard walls are not perfectly red, but layered with thin stripes of white and yellow. The cliffs were solid to the touch, making me marvel at how they’d ever been carved out.
Back on the sandy flat, we raced back through the same aid station we’d encountered 9 kilometers earlier. Up we went onto the slickrock, and back down into our original slot canyon. Then the trail diverged, and we climbed still further up onto a plateau above a highway.
It was another nine or so kilometers to the next aid station, but we weren’t in a rush. We stopped to pee, matched our pace to run alongside some trail friends and started on our own snacks. Now that we were past the initial time cutoff, we aimed to set a sustainable pace.
I also aimed to drink a lot. I’m often dehydrated on races and long runs, and I vowed to do better at Antelope Canyon Ultras. It seemed especially important here in the desert!
So at Slickrock Aid Station, I stopped to fill up my bottles. I’d drained them dry. With a few more things to do, it was tricky to be out within three minutes, but we did it! Sort of. I left with my bottles in my hands, awkwardly stuffing them in the general direction of their pockets.
Kent and I marveled at the slickrock domes the checkpoint was named for, and ran on into the desert. The next checkpoint was just five kilometers away. We were eager to get to this one, because it marked the entrance to the next super scenic spot on the race course!
After gobbling up some boiled potatoes and dill pickles (yes!), I steeled myself for the sight of Horseshoe Bend. Much like Antelope Canyon, it was photographs of this awesome natural feature that made me insist on doing this race.
It did not disappoint. Horseshoe Bend was so much more grand in person than it is even in professional portraits. It’s huge, first of all: a massive, curved slice in the Earth. Hundreds of meters below, the Colorado River looks shallow and lazy. The colors are sublime, and constantly changing. A cloud blotting out the sun turns the cliff walls to coal, but a blaze of sunshine lights them up in flame orange.
Best of all, instead of turning towards the parking lot and tourist horde, we ducked behind a fence and ran on the very lip of the canyon. I, for one, could not run very far without needing to stop and gape at it all, all over again.
Better race scenery I’ve never seen. This was completely unique to us: never having been to this part of the world. The only place that it vaguely reminded me of with its desert splendor and sheer verticality was the world-class Oman by UTMB.
But this was its very own kind of wonderful. After bunching up for photos of the bend, the runners spread out across the vast plateau. Soon, it was only Kent and I running together, accompanied by the sounds of our feet and the wind over the plain.
What they don’t tell you about Horseshoe Bend is that it’s not actually a single bend. It is not, in fact, the only dramatic u-turn that the Colorado River takes on it’s course down to the Grand Canyon. Horseshoe Bend is the accessible poster child for canyon shapeliness. But there are others.
After several kilometers of running cliffside, we found our very own curve and vista point. Full of wonder, we had to stop. Again.
Leaving this special spot eventually, we also left the river behind. Our trail stretched straight across the desert. Although flat, it was mainly slickrock, so it was deceptively technical. A number of times my toe slipped backwards or I suddenly slid forwards!
My two favorite memories of the whole event happened on this nondescript stretch of race course.
First, we saw a cloud burst into a sudden rainstorm in the distance. The strong winds we’d been feeling all day rushed a smattering of raindrops over onto us! Knowing that rain is a rare phenomenon in this desert, we felt lucky. And refreshed!
A little while later, I was feeling hungry and began searching my pockets for snacks. Instead I discovered my glove – which happened to be full of jelly beans! I called to offer some to Kent, who was trailing me. The prospect actually made my normally stoic husband shout and come racing towards me! His joy compounded mine, and for a few minutes, we passed the glove back and forth, savoring this sweet treat!
Then it was time for something savory! We reached the next checkpoint, called Water Holes, at the most distant point of the Antelope Canyon Ultras race course. This was about halfway, and we’d be heading home from here. But not before a burrito!
The world’s friendliest family greeted me as I ran up, and offered me a choice of snacks. I went straight for the tortilla loaded with refried beans. I stood there exclaiming about how awesome it was until our three-minute timer ran out. Best CP snack ever!
The next, underrated section was another favorite for me. First of all, we dropped down into the coolest slot canyons of the day. Maybe it was the light, perhaps the solitude – whatever it was, the cliffs and crevices here were astonishing.
We climbed up and down steel ladders bolted into the rock. We rounded vermillion wave after vermillion wave. This is such a captivating landscape!
Climbing up onto a long stretch of dirt road, the fun wasn’t over. We encountered a cheerful Californian running her first ultra on her birthday, accompanied by a Texan who explained to us to the novel concept of ‘run and gun’ racing!
Through this section, the four of us ran abreast on the wide road, chatting away about life, the universe and everything. The minutes melted away, and I was positively surprised to see the Horseshoe Bend checkpoint again!
In the mass of waiting pacers, crew and volunteers, we lost our new friends. But, on the go again, we made a couple more. The next section also passed by quickly. This was familiar ground: we were now heading back towards town on the same route we’d gone out on.
Our second stop at Slickrock was punctuated by serendipity. A helpful volunteer filled my water bottles – empty again – and looking up, did a double-take. He exclaimed and pointed to his head. Turns out, he was a fellow Lavaredo runner – and we were wearing the same cap! As if that wasn’t funny enough, we commiserated over both DNF-ing our big races. His happy, appreciative attitude were inspirational: reminding me to treasure all my experiences, regardless of the outcome.
The next section was a short but psychologically tricky one. We ran straight back towards the start, and had a great view of the finish line. But that wasn’t where we were headed. Not yet.
Instead, at the last minute, we turned away from the festivities at the finish and began to climb. Up, up, up: this was note-able as one of the steepest and most sustained climbs of the race!
The last part of Antelope Canyon Ultras involved a loop of the Page Rim Trail: a gentle, runnable, dirt singletrack around the city. Starting our clockwise loop, I felt hot for the first time all day! The sun had broken through the clouds and was beating down strongly. I love heat, but I was also grateful for cool water in the bottles against my body.
Looping around Page, we got to know its quirks. We saw a golf course far below, then ran past it’s highest hole! Crossing over a few roads, we waved to friendly residents and patted a pup. On the west rim, we had terrific views out over the canyon.
Our longest aid station stop of the day was at Lake Powell, the place where we’d done our shakeout run just the day before! Composting toilets beckoned, as did a shot or two of Mountain Dew (this was a first for me, but a highly recommendable experience)!
Eager for those Lake Powell views, we were soon underway again. Clouds shifted in overhead, making this familiar scene new. On the gentle undulations of this local trail, we began to pick up the pace.
Or I did. I dashed on, striving for a strong finish. I’d call to and clap for Kent, hoping to hurry him on in the same way he encourages me during a tough time. But I was soon slowed – and humbled – by my water supply, empty again. I was desperate for a drink!
I descended on the Page Rim aid station in dire need of some liquids. Standing by the cooler, I downed a full bottle of icy water! Thus refreshed, I sprang into action collecting Kent’s faves before he arrived.
My determination to finish strong was aided by the fact that, leaving the aid station, the race course was straight downhill. There were only two kilometers to go, so I knew we could give it our all.
I plunged downhill with Kent in my wake. I ignored my pounding heart and gasping lungs. For the first time in the race, I wasn’t thinking about sustainability. This was our time to shine! I didn’t want us to tumbleweed across the finish, I wanted us to blaze in like shooting stars.
Turning toward the slickrock amphitheater where the race began, I ran with my heart in my throat. Kent and I charged one last hill at an intensity that made him nauseous (not unlike North Dakota!). After 11 hours and 57 minutes of desert running, we crossed the Antelope Canyon Ultras finish line hand-in-hand.
Lessons Learned
Lesson 1: The 50 mile is a fun distance! This was only our second ever outing of that length (the first being 9 Dragons, almost exactly one year ago!), and we loved it. A bigger day out than a 50k, and just a little quicker than a 100k. It’s similar to a 70k, which became our specialty last year.
Lesson 2: Fast is also fun! We tend to challenge a lot of big vert, advanced races. But this race, with just over 1000 meters of climbing, was in that sweet spot of challenge and enjoyment. We could go fast, so we did: but we also tried to pace ourselves so we didn’t flame out! Yes, I love peaks – but I also love to speed. That last little burst at the end was the best!
Lesson 3: Crazy things can happen in crazy times. Our race could have been cancelled at the last minute, but wasn’t. We shouldn’t have even been there, but we were. A combination of dumb luck, stubborn naughtiness and experience in both distance and last-minute logistics set us up for success here.
Lesson 4: Stick to your style. Running an American race meant we could have lined up a crew or pacer(s), and left half a dozen drop bags out on the course. Helpful? I’m sure, to some! Necessary? Not if you’re used to taking a bag of your stuff on your back! We opted out of the drop bag and social services and just did our own thing, as usual.
Lesson 5: YOU should run this race. This, and maybe all the other Vacation Races. What a cool idea: to run in America’s prettiest places! Build your bucket list right here. But hey, if racing’s not really your thing, you can still have a blast in Page. See you on the trails again someday my friends!
