Mitch and I kicked things off with an informative visit to Wyoming's capital in Cheyenne.
High jinx in one of the legislative chamber galleries. Don't tell Freudenthal! Or that ornery Simpson offspring!
Seriousness befitting the setting...
A view of the aptly named Snowy Mountains, just west of Laramie, our second stop.
Mitch made clear his allegiance to the Cowpokes of the U of Wyoming. What about the Thrillini???
I look sad, but in actuality am not.
With my bro at the race check-in.
A special moment between brothers
The race morning briefing at Scott Park in Dayton.
Confused by my watch (yet again) I reunite with my ultrarunning friend from Minneapolis, John.
Chatty ultrarunner and ultrarunner brother
Last minute preparations in Tongue River Canyon, the race start
Quality calf shot! Mooooo!!
Runners make their way to the start area...
Stretching and talking. Multi-tasking perfected!
Chatting with John, who has readied himself for a crossing of the mighty Sahara...
The infamous Davy Crockett at the phots center in a gray long sleeve shirt.
From the hillside...
The usual sprint and jockeying for position characterized the start...
Now where do we go?
Downtown Dayton, WY
We ran down this valley...how awesome we must be!
Frontrunners stride into Dry Fork Ridge, mile 13.4...
The Dry Fork aid station complex...
Me taking care of bizzityness in the aid station...
Still coherent enought to execute a passable chipmunk impression...
Shots taken by Mitch en route to the next aid station...
Bob hauls gear back to the car at the Footbridge aid station (30 miles.) The station is so remote, that I beat them there and they missed me.
A Big Sky virgin no more!
Wyoming x 2
Bert tries the other side, undoubtedly the right side...
After meeting me at the 48 mile aid station (Porcupine Ranger Station) at about 1am, we next rendezvoused at Footbridge again, this time at mile 66, very early in the morning.
Shot of the forest in which the aid station is located.
Changing socks and applying Bag Balm to my feet after a very long night. I scored some sweet pancakes and suasage, steeling myself for the steep climb known as "the wall."
This is why there's a footbridge that serves as the aid station's namesake.
The footbridge even has handrails.
Big Sky driving by the crew...
That valley below Dry Fork Ridge on the second day...
After a trying run through the wilds, John and I emerge at Dry Fork Ridge Aid Station, 82+ miles into the race.
We know its in the bag, but those last 17.5 miles will be tough. My quads were trashed, which did not bode well for the 4,000 feet of elevation loss in the offing...
At long last! John and I trot toward the finish, the first running we'd done in about 5 miles. I ran the last 75 miles with John. He is a top-tier individual.
33 odd hours, 100 miles, no sleep
These people confused me so much! Why were they talking to me?
Downtown Sheridan, WY
Performing my duties, making the obligatory Father's Day call from Sheridan.