A little background
The Dipsea Trail race captured my imagination in 2020 when my colleagues presented me with a gift, a book entitled, “Epic Runs of the World” published by Lonely Planet. Of the many races described this one intrigued me. Located just north of San Francisco (a city I enjoy exploring), the entry process and that it’s a walking trail with an awful lot of steps as it crosses over local roads and past properties. Plus, their website even has a turn-by-turn photo journey of the route so you know exactly what’s in the mix. I decided to put this one on my bucket list of trails to run but not necessarily in the official race but just to follow the route myself.
Fast forward to this year and I find myself travelling to Nevada for work so I decided to add a few days of my own time and fly to California, the perfect opportunity to give the Dipsea trail a go. Initially, my planning ran away with itself and I also concocted a mini Oregon road and running trip and found I had a day spare. I set about searching the local Oregon area for an event I could enter but nothing was forthcoming that was within my ability – the 200-mile Ultra I discovered was definitely off the cards! I resumed my search back to California and stumbled on the Double Dipsea, I couldn’t believe I’d missed this. This had even greater appeal as it’s an out-and-back route which makes logistics easier – yes, I’m of that age where practicalities are important 🙂 . The dates didn’t align exactly with the road trip so I dismissed Oregon and kept my notes for another day. As luck would have it the registration had only been open a day and spaces were still available. Game on.
So let’s put some statistics out here taken from the organiser’s website. It’s a 13.7 mile (22 KM) route with approximately 4500 feet of height gain/loss (1371 Metres).
Here’s what the route and profile roughly look like too.
Having cycled to the Muir Woods National Park from San Francisco (and back) on a Brompton bike earlier this year I was acutely aware of the elevation.
I really liked the small patch logo (above) citing the hill names, height (in feet) and the step total. Loved the quote, “I’ve had my ups and downs”, it completely summed it up.
Race Day
I took an early start, 5am, from my rental accommodation in Oakland as I needed to collect my bib plus have breakfast in time for the start. I’d taken a trip out to Stinson Beach the day before to familiarise myself with the Interstate junctions and local roads which was a good plan, as it was a dark drive and in the fog at the mountain peaks too. No traffic to contend with which was a bonus.
In the days leading up to the race it was made blatantly clear that it is a fun event and should you be concerned about not being able to pass people and having to wait then it’s not the race for you. Quite refreshing. Additionally, it’s a handicapped event with the intention to bring all abilities together and keep the return of runners in a flow, as best as it can.
I was in wave 21 which meant I could watch the others start. What I hadn’t appreciated is that this is normal behaviour and the applause and send-offs felt very uplifting not to say, inclusive. While the waves were preparing I was chatting with one of the locals to the area. He explained he’d run this event a few times over the years and the Dipsea is one of his common routes and had run it over a hundred times. Pretty impressive in my books.
Here’s how the start line looked and photos of the first four waves to leave the gate.
Wave 1 on the left, Women 80+, followed by Wave 5, Men 75-79.
Next followed Wave 6 on the left, Women 65-69, followed by Wave 13, women 15 and under.
Polar opposites in age from the first release to the fourth but I can assure you they weren’t hanging around and reeling in many of the later released ‘faster’ people on their return leg to the beach – a joy to watch such fluidity and can-do attitude.
It wasn’t long before my wave was due to depart so I left the applause to the others while I grabbed my gear. I spotted the post-run ‘snacks’ being set up, there was a vast amount.
Off I went and within minutes the first steps were upon us as the Dipsea Trail welcomed our wave.
The trail information on the small patch logo above states there are 671 steps on the trail, one way, so this small amount was nothing compared to the 1342 total that required negotiating and I wasn’t about to start counting. It wasn’t very long before the path changed from an open-air dusty surface to a firmer leaf-covered forest floor with the more ambitious still keeping a light running pace. The pack soon assumed a snaking walk as the path weaved tight to the mountain.
With the forest fading behind we were rewarded with the first views back to the coastline. The early morning fog was beginning to lift but the air remained cool and refreshing.
The vista didn’t last long and soon we entered another forested area. The height gain continued and we were beginning to push through the fog, the sun’s rays streaming in silhouetting the runners ahead of me.
The grouping of runners began to thin out as we all found our rhythm and soon we breached the top of the fog line, it was incredibly dramatic.
By now the summit of Cardiac Hill wasn’t too far away and I slotted in line with two other runners as we found a comfortable rhythm and exchanged occasional ‘humourous’ comments as the super-fast breezed by with seemingless effort. Upon reaching the summit the hard work of descent was about to begin. Negotiating heavily rooted sections, rocky randomness, gullies and low branches was on the menu and it was plentiful. I spotted the first return runner at 1 hour 7 minutes charging towards me shortly followed by others and they were certainly on pace. The relentless downhill was soon replaced by a climb to the Windy Gap summit where loose trails were replaced with a firm road surface guiding us downward toward the turnaround but not before a heavy dose of steps.
Upon reaching the first set of steps this was my first look down and people looked haggard.
Overall, concrete steps were the most prominent but the odd scattering of wooden and thrown-together mortar-encrusted rocks all kept the eyes busy due to the variance of their depth. Finally, the turnaround was upon us and I’d clocked in around 1h 37m. It was now time to appreciate this beautiful trail from the other direction.
I declined water and cooling sponges from the team at the aid station and set about finding a rhythm to get back up those steps. With no breeze to assist in cooling, I could feel the heat from my body radiating off. Each step was another one closer to it all being over and conversely, I found this easier to find a rhythm, eventually summiting back to the road with solid paving underfoot. Be under no illusion, it was still uphill.
Crossing a peak and descending back into the trail the path was opening up and I was able to find a comfortable pace. The sun was beating down and I opted to walk/run on the ascents to balance the exertion. It wasn’t to be plain sailing so I got myself comfortable retracing my steps.
Upon reaching the top of Cardiac Hill I was offered drinks and cooling sponged water, while I politely declined I made a (I thought) humorous quip about the steps, little did I know I was caught on camera…
The field had definitely thinned out and there were brief moments when I had the trail to myself occasionally catching up with runners ahead. At one point in the wide-open, I witnessed one runner suddenly tumble. I caught up and offered assistance. Fortunately, it was nothing more than a scuffed elbow and a lot of dust-covered clothing. Mindful of how these falls feel I tagged alongside and chatted to keep the distraction of what had happened clear of her mind. We left the wide-open views and descended back into the forest, catching up with another runner I had been speaking with on the way out.
We ran and chatted, sometimes shouting replies to each other as our own pacing concertinaed our distances, while carefully picking our way down the winding and hazardous trail – tired legs and a lapse in concentration are a recipe for disaster.
In the last open stretch Todd (in red) picked up his pace and left myself and Kelley to our own speed finding our way down to Stinson Beach. The final 80 or so metres were back on the road and I shot off to cross the finish line.
I was presented with a plaque instead of a medal for my efforts and how very pleased I was too.
I headed to the post-run snack area which was bursting full of fruits, sugar-based and salted snacks plus ice-cream. On the way down both Kelley and Todd were extolling the delights of “It’s It”. An ice cream sandwich that’s been a ‘thing’ in the Bay Area for many years. Having been to San Francisco many times I couldn’t believe I’d never come across it, I love ice cream!
So, here was mine…
While inhaling all manner of food and gulping down a sugary drink I chatted with a few of the people I’d spent time with on the trail. Everyone was buzzing – most probably a mixture of relief from finishing and the sugar – sharing stories of previous runs.
Driving away from Stinson Beach my mind was full of excitement. What stood out for me about the out and back of this trail race was that because our names were printed on our bibs we could all call out to each other, cheery hellos and words of encouragement. I acknowledged and joked with all the volunteer Marshals and they responded back. It made it feel very personal and of all the events I’ve participated in this has to be my favourite – the people made it very special.
Would I enter this event again? Absolutely. If I’m ever in the area in August again I’ll be waiting for the registration page to open!
A Runner's Highs 