Woodley Ultra Society (WUS) member Mike Bonfatto, best known as the 2022 WUS Rookie of the Year and 2024 Donut Run DFL, joined Martha and Nora in a special WUS-edition audio recording to tell the story of his foray into “ride ‘n’ tie” at the 2025 World Ride N Tie Championship.
Audio recording (20 min, 55 sec, short version, edited by Martha and Bjorn; long version available at the end of the blog)
The “Dream Team”: Martha, “Dream,” Nora and Mike (left to right)
Cowboy Mike “at least I wasn’t the one in the ambulance” Bonfatto survives his first ride n tie on Dream
The GoPro video Cowboy Mike sent us from his Bolivia ride in 2011 impressed me and Nora enough to convince us Mike could ride n tie.
Ride N Tie involves trail riding and running. Barb rides her bay Arabian mare FYF Riding Under the Influence (aka “Dream”) in the World Championship Long Course.
Dream is unimpressed with Mike pretending to be hard.
Rick Noer won the Equathon blind date lottery when I paired him up with Mike, who crushed the 8-mile trail run so their team could finish 2nd (out of 22 teams).
Nora, Martha, and Chris
Chris, Kelly and Comet win the Long Course World Championship
The longer “Director’s Cut” version of the audio recording that Mike “edited” is available here.
Nothing goes to plan for Wussies Martha Nelson and Sean Andrish during their first burro race. Still, they are both hooked on this twist on trail running that is seeped in Colorado history.
The WUS Beer Mile annual tradition: instigated by Martha, tolerated by Aaron.
Chapter 1: New Kids on the Block
The Pacers contingent livened up the race this year, but ultimately could not upend the WUS reigning champion Trevor. Keith looks on, wondering what happened to the good old days when WUS was just about trail running.
Anthony, the guy responsible for contaminating Keith’s trail running group with road runners. (4th place finisher)
Joe (2nd place) put the heat on Trevor, but Mr November couldn’t best the champ.
Bobby faltered because of a fashion choice made weeks ago when it was 40 degrees, not 80.
If you’re wondering why there are so many more photos of Pacers than Wussies, WUS may have bested Pacers in the race, but Duy outdid Keith behind the camera. You know Keith is off his game when he didn’t even get a picture of Keavy.
Duy was still snapping photos at 12:30am when we finally left Atomic Billiards. Mike later admitted to regretting his 8 beers, which he insists is the only reason I bested him 3x in pool. Fortunately, Mike had other victories that night, including a 4 minute PR that ended his 2x DFL streak.
King Trevor was pushed into a new Beer Mile PR of 7:13 to keep his win streak alive and take home the roses (or in this case a disposable urinal, leading to questions from his wife).
Another record falls! Adam bested last year’s record of three official inquiries about grand master prizes.
Heather set the Beer Mile twerking record AND managed to not be DFL (Although she did puke. We did not enforce penalty laps this year, what with all the chaos and very drunk and very useless race RD and resigned Aaron.)
Greta and Martha: the only two women who DIDN’T puke.
Jaret’s video #2: https://youtube.com/shorts/CRMdZjKZbvw?feature=share
Seb won a prize for reasons the drunk RD no longer recalls, but probably related only to his anticipated enjoyment, while Oren looks on with a look of concern, given that children are present.
Years from now, Bjorn will discuss these events with his therapist.
Bonus points to Peyton for taking the bronze AND wearing his Russian apron to the after-party at Cleveland Park Bar and Grill despite needing to drive cross country to Arkansas the next morning.
“Is that how you greet me?” Aaron quipped as I puked in the bushes. Atop Hellgate’s highest, coldest mountain, Aaron was waging a heroic battle to maintain his legendary streak of 21 consecutive finishes at David Horton’s infamous Hellgate 100km++ ultramarathon. To do so, he would need to overcome a respiratory virus, a bum ankle, the ravages of time and parenthood, and a past Lyme disease infection that left him permanently hobbled and immunocompromised. Back in 2007, Aaron was Hellgate champion. Today, he would fight just to finish. All I needed to overcome was my perennially bad stomach, which had just unleashed a round of sympathy barfs.
I mustered the courage to run Hellgates #1 and #2 because Aaron’s best (only?) friend Matt and family were my crew/pacer angels.
Aaron can run Hellgate on autopilot, but I require the help of support crew. Aaron’s friend Matt crewed and paced my first two Hellgates, but he was in Hawaii this year, so I roped in Mike and Anthony, two recent additions to our Woodley Ultra Society (WUS) trail running group in DC. Mike and Anthony’s chief qualifications were that they (a) are unflappably zen and (b) had already seen me puke aplenty (after Catherine’s Furnace 50km, during and after Highland Sky 40 miler, while pacing Trevor at Hardrock 100, after the Richmond Marathon, the list goes on….). However, Matt is a father who’d “crewed” three childbirths. Mike and Anthony are bachelors in their early 30s who’d never seen a woman fall apart on their watch. As someone who never run 100 milers — or even other 100km races — Hellgate is at the outer reachers of my capabilities. I go to some dark places.
After two “Sissygates” in 2021 and 2023 where everyone wore shorts in balmy weather, I finally got the “real” Hellgate experience this year, complete with frozen feet after the early stream crossing (Aaron’s tip #1: we slathered our feet in diaper creme this year to prevent blistering and it worked). Despite bundling up with tights, a long sleeve shirt, and a houdini jacket, my fingers still froze, making it hard to eat. My hydration pack’s bladder hose also froze, so I couldn’t drink. (Aaron’s tip #2: Aaron instructed me (after the fact)to blow air into my hose during subfreezing conditions to remove the water from the hose and keep it from freezing.)
The sky was crammed with stars. Aaron and I turned off our headlamps so a bulbous near-full moon could light our way through Virginia’s Blue Ridge Mountains. We fell into usual conversational patterns, which means I complained loudly about trifles while Aaron silently suffered for real. I decreed that poles should be banned for Hellgate’s opening mile after another runner smacked me several times in the elbow with his flailing trekking poles during the crowded start. Sharing moonlit miles with Aaron was a rare treat that I couldn’t pass up, but as Aaron crept along at half his usual pace, my blood flow slowed and everything froze from my toes to my ears.
Mike and Anthony were rightfully surprised when Aaron and I came in together around 4:30am at the Floyd’s Fields aid station, the coldest spot in the race. (Aaron’s tip #3: Mike wore a LED light vest at night aid stations so I could easily identify him in the darkness amid the glare of headlamps). My teeth were chattering uncontrollably and my body was slipping into cold shock, so I left early without eating anything. I never saw Aaron again during the race.
When Aaron and I started dating in 2011, I was endeared by everything except Hellgate.
Mike and Anthony had been told what to expect at the race. “My fuel will be organized into three buckets: savory, sweet, and liquid. But don’t be surprised if I never touch most of it.When you first see me at Floyd’s Fields, mile 24, around 5am, don’t be alarmed if I look like death and puke at the first whiff of food.Don’t offer me anything or mention any foods by name, because that will immediately make me puke. Wait for me to ask for stuff. I’ll tell you what I want.”
When I first ran Hellgate in 2021, I was a scared mouse who looked to Aaron for guidance on everything. I was crewed by Aaron’s friend, listened to Aaron’s music mix, used Aaron’s hydration pack, and ate whatever Aaron ate. This year, I had acquired my own tastes. I recruited my own friends to crew, picked my own menu (ramen was this year’s food winner), and made my own music mix that toggled between folk, classic rock, and 90s grunge. Aaron’s acoustic guitar playlist calms me, but sometimes I need STP.
“Jenning’s Creek, the fifth aid station, will be my low point,” I’d warned Mike and Anthony. “At my first Hellgate, I just sat there on a bucket and puked between my legs. The night whips me. But,” I chirped, “When dawn breaks on the next climb, and the sun’s rays thaw my fingers and toes, I’ll become human again.”
Part II (dawn to pacers): Here Comes The Sun
Hellgaters sometimes can’t explain why they sign up for this sufferfest year after year, like rats that keep touching the electric fence without learning, but one reason I do it is The Dawn, when light triumphs over darkness and the frozen nightmare is finally in the rear view mirror. Pain becomes easier to tolerate when friendly faces beam smiles and vistas shine in the backdrop. At daybreak I turned on my music, and Smashing Pumpkins, REM, and Neil Young lifted my mood (and pace) across the open grassy fire roads.
Accommodating someone else’s slower gait always hurts, and I paid for the slow, choppy miles I shared earlier with Aaron by flaring my knee tendinitis. Slowing down only made it worse, so I did the opposite of what any sensible person would do when faced with screaming pain in their joints: I ran faster. The grassy fire roads after Little Cove aid are a good place to stretch the legs. I wanted to explain to the dozens of runners I careened past that I’m not an idiot who thinks I’m winning Hellgate. Running it off just helps.
“I won’t see you at the sixth aid station, which isn’t crew accessible, but I’ll be in dire need of a burger at the seventh aid station, Bear Wallow (mile 42), where Mike can jump in to pace me. Expect me to be wrecked. The rocky trail between Little Cove and Bear Wallow has loose boulders hidden under leaf piles and winds around in endless loops that try my patience or, as Aaron puts it, really blows dead goat.”
Mike and I practice introvert running at Vicki’s Death March on Black Friday.
“So I don’t need to talk the whole time?” Mike, our club’s foremost introvert, was concerned his pacing duties required goods he couldn’t deliver.
“No,” I assured him. “I’ll be non-verbal by then. Your main job is to say kind, encouraging things to other runners we pass when I’m too sick to speak. It can be beastly hard to know what to say when someone is obviously suffering and crawling along. You can’t just blurt out Great job! or Looking good! or Almost there! You have to be positive without being obnoxious. It’s an art.”
Part III (pacers to finish): With A Little Help From My Friends
The never-ending “Devil trail” is my least favorite stretch of Hellgate. It was even worse this year because my bladder froze and I needed to unzip my entire hydration pack to get a sip. The operation was clumsy and I spilled freezing water down my chest and dropped a glove that I had to backtrack to retrieve. I was muttered “F that” and decided to just go without food or water until I got cheeseburgered at Bear Wallow. I looked like a kicked puppy when I arrived and learned there were no burgers on the menu this year. But it was too cold to stand around pouting, so I picked up Mike as my pacer and took a cup of ramen with a side of bacon to go. As Mike and I tramped up the climb, I forgot my woes and became downright giddy to have human company.
Mike is not the best crew I’ve ever had (watching Mike do simple task like fill a bladder requires the same patience as watching an old lady back out of a parking space). Mike is not a man who can be rushed, as we discovered at the WUS donut run. Mike sat and ate donuts deliberately, morsel by morsel, for 50 minutes, longer than it took Anthony to win the race.
However, Mike was a great pacer. Despite being exhausted, famished, and in pain, I was in an exuberant mood during the section we ran together from Bear Wallow, pointing out each beautiful view with glee and laughing at his stories. I ran everything except for the steepest climbs. Then things came to a screeching halt. Mike, why does my Coke taste like shampoo?
Mike took a swig and deduced that the soap was not rinsed out during Anthony’s last flask cleaning. I laughed deliriously. You boys are trying to poison me. I ceased running, talking, and eating and sad walked into the next aid station, where Anthony would assume pacing duties and I hoped to get replenished and turn things around.
Instead, things got worse. Even Grateful Dead hippie Anthony lost his cool when the Blue Ridge Parkway closed for ice on the road and the aid station was being taken down. I got no replacement for the soapy coke and continued my hunger streak, getting sicker and loopier. All I could mutter was “No” whenever Anthony tried to get me to nibble something in the Forever Section. Come on, Martha, one gummy bear….. I answered in the negative with another puke.
Pacing a suffering ultrarunner is a hard task. A couple weeks before Hellgate, Mike and I spent seven hours together running Vicki’s Death March going over pacer instructions in detail. I never conveyed the same information to Anthony. I get into tiffs when pacers inject their own opinions. I never yell at people, but I will rebel and grind to a halt and refuse to move, like the time Sean egged me on to get me to pass more women at the Frisco Half Marathon when I was suffering at altitude. I refused to take another step until Sean let me run my own race. “Blueberry” is my code word for please leave me alone and stop talking.
The final 2.5-mile climb up the road from Day Creek is a death march. This year I got an extra dagger when a bouncy woman ran past me up the hill looking impossibly energetic. (Are you even allowed to run that climb?) But Anthony had regrouped at the final aid station and we made peace at the summit where I agreed to take several gulps of coke. I glanced at my friend one last time before steeling myself to gun it to the finish line. The woman who passed me up the hill was long gone, but, just like in past years, I pulled out 6:30-minute miles from god knows where and soon she was in my sights. I passed her as authoritatively as she’d passed me on the uphill. I know most of the women I pass in the final stretches of Hellgate, but she was unfamiliar. I finished in my standard time of 15 hours, plus or minus, for the third time in a row. Only this year, for the first time, I did not puke on Horton’s finish line.
Hellgate has an unusual rule that top-10 men and top-10 women can’t have pacers, so one of Anthony and Mike’s biggest concerns was that their participation might cost me a puff jacket. Fortunately, I pulled off the rare feat of getting a pacer and a puff jacket by finishing as top women’s master but outside the top-10.
Aaron crawled across the finish line in the pitch dark after 17 grueling hours and 34 minutes, just 26 minutes under the 18-hour cut-off. It was the slowest of his 22 finishes by far, more an hour slower than his worst Lyme disease year. But he preserved his streak, which is all that counts. Fellow Hellgate streaker Darin cut it even closer and finished with a mere 90 seconds to spare. Ultimately, the Hellgate story of the year went to my friend Laney, who finally finished Hellgate under the cut-off on her fifth try, after coming in just 2 minutes over the time limit two years ago.
Anyone following the trends of 2024 should not be surprised that three WUS women — Nora, Keavy, and I — took home Patagonia puff jackets for top-ten or top-masters finishes. WUS women are making a comeback, thanks to Barry’s Friday morning trail runs (Barry also ran Hellgate this year, his second finish) and a new-and-improved generation of WUS gentlemen, of which my crew Mike and Anthony are standard bearers.
Nothing beats a good trilogy (Lord of the Rings, the original Star Wars), and my third Hellgate felt like a good series finale. My first Hellgate in 2021, was an act of desperation during a hellish pandemic year when I was willing to try anything, even Aaron’s crazy ice race, to beat anxiety and depression. My second Hellgate in 2023 proved I’d come to appreciate David Horton and the magical Hellgate experience, which is somehow both tortuous and goofy. After my third Hellgate, I was ready to pass the torch to Mike, Anthony, and Matt, and be their support human as they stumble through the Forever Section. But after convincing myself and everyone else that my third Hellgate would be my last, I woke up the next morning and squealed in bed to Aaron I want to do it again!
WUS Circle of Pacing. I paced Trevor (right) at Hardrock last summer, Trevor paced me and Anthony (left) at Richmond Marathon this fall, Anthony paced me at Hellgate, so I’ll pace Anthony next spring at Hellbender 100.
Just as we thought WUS was past its prime and getting old and slow, 2024 saw a revival of youthful energy, thanks the arrival of new regulars like Will, plus a crop of new speedy women (thanks, Barry!). The explosion of new energy spurred Jaret and WHT to revive the WUS donut run, Trevor and Keith to eke through Hardrock, and Martha to somehow muster another sub-3 marathon. Not dead yet. We even made new WUS shirts, 3rd edition, although the slogan “The faces may change but the bar remains” has not aged well. Cleveland Park Bar and Grill may be moving down the block next year, following a change of landlord, and WUS may need to survive another big shakeup. But in the immortal words of Bryan Powell (“Jesus, you guys are still doing that Tuesday run?), WUS has a staying power that defies the winds of change and the elbows of Sebastian. Blue skies ahead in 2025. The WUS baby boom is finally over, our 20-year WuSiversay is on the horizon (2026), and a little cross-pollination with road runners may bring a dash more speed into Tuesday nights (don’t give me that look, Old Guard, some of our best WuSsies were snagged from DC road running groups).
I. Scorecard. How many of last year’s predictions came true in 2024?Red is correct guesses.
Mass WUS gathering at Hardrock in July.
Donut Run is revived.(But Martha probably has to organize it.)
Return of McNulty.
Clarification: Return of McNulty after dog-friendly outdoor seating becomes available in front of CPBG’s years-in-the-making pedestrian sidewalk.
WUS DC United Field Trip led by HKJ.
Another WUS tries Ride N Tie.
Prize to whichever WUS comes across Martha riding a horse through Rock Creek Park first.
Mass WUS gathering at Hardrock in July. Check.
WUS donut run triumphantly returned in 2024.
Somebody was excited about Nora trying Ride N Tie.
Seb and Anthony won the 2024 contest to spot Martha riding in Rock Creek Park.
II. 2024 Awards
Best race performances, male
Finishing Hardrock on no training, Trevor and Keith (tie)
DFL, WUS Donut Run: Mike
Best race performances, female
CR, The Ring: Keavy
Winner, Bull Run Run 50: Nora
Best performance, overall: Take On Me: Bjorn (BRR)
Bjorn also gave a clutch National Anthem at the WUS donut run
Best race debut, male: Anthony, marathon
Best race debut, female: Nora, ride n tie
Most improved, male: Mike, 9 minute PR at Beer Mile
Most improved, female: Martha, training for a marathon
Best surprise ringer: Amanda, Beer Mile
Jaret’s donut run report also won for Best Guest WUS blog of the year
WuSsies of the Year: Jaret and WHT, for reviving the Donut Run
Best race bio: Keith
Best triumphant return: Aaron, finishing a 100 miler for the first time in a decade
Best WUS blast from the past: Matt W birthday WUS
Best performance, locking it up: Jaret
Worst performance, looking a gift horse in the mouth: Mike, start of Richmond Marathon
Best performance, AirBnB: Anthony
WUS arrivals: Will, Nora, Keavy, Barry, Theo, Orin, Io and Callisto, Georgia’s new baby
WUS departures: Nick, HKJ, Leda, Zelig
Best crew captain: Ellen
Best new CPBG pizza: burrata
Worst WUS news: the bar is closing in late 2024/early 2025
Best WUS news: the bar is reopening above Fat Pete’s
Best WUS bromance: Sean and Keith (always)
They even got matchy jackets
Best WUS fight: Martha and Seb, over which way North is
Worst race rip-off: Morocco 50k, for charging $400 and providing no snacks at aid stations
Worst race experience: Ironstone 100k
Best race experience: Iron Mountain Ride N Tie
My victory of the year was getting Nora to Iron Mountain
Best WUS vehicle: Pajellen van
Best new WUS real estate: Chamonix
Nick is making out okay.
Big Schloss 50k also yielded some good wildlife sightings
Worst performance, trying to drop out of a race: Keith, Hardrock
Best performance, masking his desire to drop out of a race: Trevor, Hardrock
Best performance, segment records on Rock Creek Park hills: Poppy the white pony
Best performance, surviving 24 hours in the life of Aaron: Mike (VDM)
Best performance, Bjorn care: (tie) Chelsea (Catherine’s Furnace) and Keavy’s brother (Breck summer camp)
Best performance, convincing Sean and Aaron to donkey run: Martha
Worst performance, convincing VHTRC to change SiP to 9am at Pierce Mill: Martha
Best performance, playing off a WUS fall: Heather
Worst performance, playing off a WUS fall: Adam
III: Predictions for 2025:
Mass WUS gathering at Hellbender
An epic WUS adventure involving HKJ
A WUS wedding
WUS women make a comeback (after their demands are met).
Keith makes a WUS comeback (no comment on whether #4 and #5 are related)
Seb finally earns a “real” WUS award by completing his first 100km race (thanks to a phenomenal pacing job by Guy).
New WUS house
A group of intrepid WuSsies complete a burro race. (And Aaron buys Martha a “Will Run 4 Ass” shirt.)
Another WUS tries ride n tie
Nora becomes the new occupant of the Bannockburn party house
A record number of WuSsies attend Mike’s DC rave (but only the early bird 4pm version)
Someone from the Monday night Pacer’s Run joins WUS (once Martha is offered as tribute)
A Pacers ringer gives Puff a run for his money at the 2024 WUS beer mile
Puff Magic runs a sub-20 hour hundred.
Aaron runs his 25th consecutive Boston Marathon in April.
Martha celebrates Aaron’s achievement a week later by throwing a Beer Mile party he doesn’t want in his backyard. In the spirit of “we all make sacrifices,” Martha invites all the WuSsies, even the hot sauce thieves. Because in 2025, everyone gets a shot at redemption.
WUS was women-dominated when it started in 2006. After some lean years, will women make a comeback 19 years later? To do so, the Marmot may need to dole out some lessons.
