Twietmeyer wins fourth Western States in five years

On the surface, one of the "weirdest and craziest" Western States 100 went according to form. When the 100-mile traverse across the spine of the rugged Sierra Nevada range was over, defending champion Tim Twietmeyer had managed a record fourth Western States 100 victory.

Twietmeyer finished in 17 hours, 42 minutes, and seven seconds, more than 68 minutes faster than second-place Jerry Wittenauer of Palo Alto, California. And the incomparable ultramarathoner Ann Trason of Kensington, California, won her eighth straight Western States women's title (with a time of 18:57:36), finishing nearly three hours ahead of second woman Sherry Johns of Phoenix, Arizona, to take third overall.

But getting to the end of this 100-mile race was anything but predictable.

When Twietmeyer was hip-deep in the rushing American River at the Ruck-A-Chucky crossing--78 miles into the race--he had virtually given up on his chances for victory. Twietmeyer was managing to stay upright in the 55-degree water, holding on to a nylon rope, when he stopped and asked a photographer to hold his water bottles. He dunked his head in the water to cool off and went off to pursue the front-runners.

"I was 24 minutes down to Carl Andersen and 20 minutes back of Scott St. John and I figured with 22 miles left there was no way I was going to catch them if they were feeling OK, so I thought it was time to cool off," said the 37-year-old computer engineer.

On a day in which mild temperatures and lack of snow on the high trails leaving Squaw Valley first promised a possible record-setting pace, Twietmeyer felt off. "It was a weird day. I felt I had no power on the uphills, and my times to checkpoints were slow even though the weather started out mild. So I just thought it wasn't my day and decided to take it easy."

Apparently, the cool bath both refreshed Twietmeyer as well as changed his luck and attitude from sheer survival to joyous attack. After getting out of the cool river--bathed in shadows at 6 p.m.--Twietmeyer started up a two-mile, 1,000-foot climb into the still harsh sun to the top of the hill at Green Gate, and passed early leader St. John, who was walking halfway up the hill.

"Tim got a little charge when he saw Scott," said Twietmeyer's pace runner Ernie Flores. "Then when he saw Carl, he got a really big charge of energy."

At the top, Andersen, husband of premier ultramarathoner Ann Trason, had bonked badly. After throwing up a few times, he sat down in an attempt to regain some energy. Andersen sucked on ice cubes, his head in his hands.

The hard push through the hot mid-race canyons left Andersen's legs thrashed. He managed to hold a 100-yard lead at the mile 80.5 checkpoint, but his race was done.

"I thought the rest might have gotten me going again, but immediately my body reacted to the first slight incline like a car with a red overheating light going on," said Andersen. "I knew I had no more fight left in me, and I told Tim I was just going to walk it in."

Andersen was still mystified as to why he fell apart so badly, but lack of water at one crucial point may have set him up for a fall. "My two replacement water bottles were accidentally frozen at the aid station 48 miles into the race. So from Devil's Thumb to El Dorado--about four miles--I had no water on the trail."

Before that point, Andersen had been in second, but was gaining on leader St. John. Andersen took the lead just after Foresthill (60.5 miles) and drew away from the others. "The trouble is, when you are in front there is always the specter of your pursuers and you don't know if you can cool it," Andersen said. "So on the downhill to the river crossing, I was still pushing hard and my legs just seized up. My quads were burning and I was reduced to a shuffle. I knew I was in serious trouble."

Soon thereafter, the race turned inside out.

Andersen, reduced to walking up the hill after the crossing, shuffled to a stop at the mile-85 Auburn Lake Trails checkpoint, joined soon thereafter by Navy SEAL Mike Morton, 24, of Stevensville, Maryland. who was running fourth much of the day. Morton quit after finding it impossible to breathe without pain. St. John, who took a 10-minute lead to mile 30, was urinating blood and also bailed at the 85-mile mark.

Suddenly, Twietmeyer, previously facing a seemingly unbreakable 24-minute deficit, found himself with a 50-minute lead over the 37-year-old Wittenauer. Nine minutes behind Wittenauer was a distraught Ann Trason, who came upon her husband as he retired.

"I hate this race," said Trason. "This race destroyed Carl. I never want to do this again."

Andersen gave words of encouragement to Trason, who had marched through the field from a sluggish morning effort of 17th place at the 30-mile mark to 11th at mile 55 at midday, She had gained to seventh place at mile 60, sixth at mile 78, and inherited third at mile 85.

For Trason, who is famous for having the in-race pessimism of Eeyore to go with the legs of Secretariat, such spiked words of contempt for her favorite race were only temporary. But she had reason to be irritable on the course, and not only because of her husband's condition. Just 12 days before, she finished the grueling 53.8-mile Comrades Marathon in South Africa. "I also caught a flu days before the race and had a hard time breathing in the early morning altitude," she said.

Before Comrades, Trason had injured a nerve in her left leg and had to drop out of the U.S. Women's Olympic Marathon trials in February and could not run for six weeks. Surviving on cross-training in the pool, on an exercise bike, and on a specially constructed treadmill, Trason took only a month of running to prepare for Comrades and returned to the United States with a virulent South African flu.

"I only raced here because I love the Western States so much," she said. "It didn't seem fair after Comrades; this was Carl's year. But this race is like Christmas for me. I could not give it up."

She added that she was encouraged by former Western States winner Tom Johnson, who declined to try Western States this year after running seventh at Comrades. "I was feeling the pressure and thinking of quitting when Tom, who was [a spectator] told me early in the race, 'You have nothing to prove to anyone but yourself.' Suddenly, it all felt lighter and I just went out to run."

But afterward, the slender, elfin Trason looked like she had paid a big price. She lay on her back after midnight, an IV running into her arm, fighting off a hacking cough that would not allow her to lay back to rest. But Trason was more overcome by emotion than her physical situation. "I would rather Carl won and I finished fourth," she said. "I thought Carl was going to win and when I saw what happened to him, I was crushed."

Andersen was also the pre-race pick of race organizer Norm Klein, who saw Trason's husband finally getting the family record at Western States--Trason's 1994 time of 17:37:51 bested Andersen's sixth place 1991 mark by 10 minutes--because of strong recent training and results. Andersen shared a win at the Cool Canyon Crawl 50 K with Tom Johnson and recently set a new course record at the Quicksilver 50 miler. "Carl also had great training runs in South Africa while I was running Comrades," said Trason.

Anderson got his own IV, but with difficulty. "I was so exhausted my veins were sunk and the first time they tried [to reach a vein] the needle poked all the way through," he said. "I was OK. But it was a crazy day, a weird day. The weather seemed good, but everyone's times were slow. It is just a testament to Tim, who is a master tactician and races smart. He knows exactly how hard he can push and just what it takes to win."

Wittenauer, a research scientist at Lockheed in Palo Alto, was elated with his second-place finish--as well as his success in holding off the relentless drive of Trason--far better than his previous best, an eighth place finish in 1994 when he clocked in at 19:12. "I was in the top 10 all day, but I moved up mostly through attrition," he said modestly. "Normally I run a lot better on the flat races, but the heat didn't affect me so badly today."

Trason said she thought her 18:57:36 time was "the slowest ever for a third-place finisher," but a check of records found it was faster than third place finishers in '77, '78, '79, '80, '87, '93 and '95. Still, finishing this year was testament enough. Behind her along the trail were some of the top ultramarathoners, a field some said was the best ever. Only 75 of the 374 starters managed to finish in under 24 hours and earn a silver Western States belt buckle. Among the DNFs: former winner Brian Purcell and perennial top 10 runner Dave Scott. Top eastern challengers Eric Clifton and Courteney Campbell got temporarily lost on the trail, and faded from the top 10 to finish together, in 40th and 41st.

Twietmeyer's winning time of 17:42:07 was far over Jim King's 1984 course record of 14:54:00. But King's time was a on a course estimated to be about eight miles shorter than the current route. Tom Johnson's 1991 mark of 15:54:05 is generally regarded as the record for the current course length.

Despite praise from his competitors, Twietmeyer remained low key. "I started to feel good after the sun went down and ran hard, but throughout the day I did not calculate according to how anyone else was doing. When the sun went down I felt good and decided to run hard. But if anyone caught me, they could go by. Actually, the first 30 miles was the high point of my day. There were mule ears, a green plant growing at the side of the trail, brushing my legs for the first 20 miles. The day was clear and mild, the mountains were beautiful, and it was just a special day.

"Later, there was another moment: I had my earphones on and was picking up classic rock going through El Dorado and I know I was about to lose reception when they had three songs in a row by Journey. I thought, 'It doesn't get any better than this.'"

At the end Twietmeyer had to make room for another bronze cougar statue back home. And pace runner Flores had to soak his feet. "When it got dark, Tim said, 'Let's go hard!' and it took everything I had just to keep up."

Timothy Carlson is a frequent contributor to Outside Online