The winds gusted at 50 mph, and the four of us stood shivering on top of a mountain just under 8000 feet high. Not exactly an ideal way to spend a Saturday, but we had a very good reason for being up there. It was the inaugural Castle Peak 100k, and the lead runner was headed our way.

Me and three other volunteers had hiked up three miles and just under 1500 feet to set up the Crow's Nest aid station, which would be our post from mid-day until the last runner came through, around 8:30 p.m.

The weather had been mild leading up to race day, warm even, with temperatures in the high 70s and low 80s. Wind wasn’t much of a concern. So while my fellow volunteers were packing extra clothing “just in case,” I was confident I’d be plenty warm enough with the yoga pants and light sweater I’d brought to supplement my shorts and t-shirt.

The wind slammed into us as soon as we crested the first ridge. We were only about halfway through the hike up to the station, and the trail climbed ever higher and became more exposed the further we went. Despite reassurances to each other that the wind would surely die down later in the afternoon, I think we all knew then that we were in for a day slightly different from what we’d anticipated.

And we were right, but it wasn’t just the wind that surprised us that day. It was the runners. Our aid station was situated 51 miles into the roughly 62.5-mile course and at the top of a very difficult climb. The 3-mile hike us volunteers had made earlier followed the same course the runners would take, only they’d hit the base of the climb after having already completed 48 miles.

None of us had worked an aid station before, and we’d never volunteered at an ultra event. I think we expected the runners to be exhausted, maybe a little grumpy, and definitely nervous about the next section of the course. The section following the hike up to the Crows Nest aid station was referred to as “The Palisades,” and it was 1.2 miles of extremely technical terrain, what most people would refer to as mountain climbing. I’d gone through it once, just to see for myself how difficult it was, and I couldn’t imagine how someone already tired out by 51 miles of heavy trail running was going to navigate its steep climbs and slippery slopes.

But these were ultra runners, after all. We should have known better.

Those of us who can't fathom going out for a 30-mile run on a Sunday afternoon, or willingly signing up for a race that requires us to run 62.5 miles straight, like to say that ultra runners have a little bit of "crazy" in them. But I've gotten to know enough of them now to say that no matter what drives them to do the amazing things they do, they're some of the nicest, most sincere people I’ve met, and being around them is infectious. Despite all your reservations, you find yourself thinking, "Maybe I could run an ultra...," before you catch yourself and shake some sense back into your head.
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The runners passing by the Crow’s Nest aid station were tired, yes, but not beaten. Many of them were cheerful and smiling, thanking us for standing out in the wind all day to support them. Not one of them expressed fear or anxiety about the Palisades, and more than anything, they were simply grateful for us being there.

Our aid station was “water only,” which meant there was no food provided. It was the reason why us volunteers had brought up plenty of our own food to carry us through the eight or so hours we planned to be up there. And it was a good thing we did, because we ended up offering most of it to the runners. The lead runner scaling a rock crevice unaided and with a bunch of our grapes clutched in his hand is probably one of the most memorable images of the day.

All in all, roughly 120 volunteers came out to support 55 runners. I think if you were to ask any one of the volunteers about their interactions with the runners, they’d tell you how gracious and sincere they all were. And to be honest, they didn’t have to be. They were out there working hard, some of them running for nearly 20 hours straight. I wouldn’t have blamed them if they couldn’t spare any extra energy to tell us “thank you,” but they did.

Their gratitude is a testament to what happened that day and all the days leading up to the race. An army of people had come together to create an amazing experience for a small group of runners. Every one of them was happy to do it and felt the special magic of being part of that experience. The mutual support between runner and volunteer was truly a wonder to see, and I think it says a lot about ultra runners and the culture they represent…even if they are a little crazy.

A huge thank you to Peter Fain and Helen Pelster for creating such an amazing and collaborative experience for both runners and volunteers. It won't soon be forgotten!

Cover image credit: Greg Walker

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