Low-Key Adventures at the Baker Lake Classic 25K

By Lindsey Boldrin, GBRC Volunteer Coordinator

In 2015, a new 25K came upon the local running scene, put on by Northwest Endurance Events. I was new to trail running after a 5 year obsession with road running and road races. I had recently discovered an intoxicating website called UltraSignUp. One evening in August, I was low on electrolytes and high on accomplishment after an arduous hike near Mount Rainier. This led to delirious browsing of UltraSignUp’s offerings. I saw Baker Lake Classic 25K, and suddenly, my credit card had tumbled out of my wallet and I was registered. I had the grand idea that I should sign up for a brand new trail race I knew nothing about. What could go wrong? The inaugural Baker Lake Classic 25K was held on September 19th, 2015. 

I have run this race each year since it’s been held (minus 2020, of course.) There are a few of us GBRC members now who are ‘Legacy Runners.’ Each year I love this race more. I love the simple, stripped down, low-key finish line. This race is basic. No course marking. No frills, no water cups, no aid station snacks, and no free loot! However, they do feed us at the finish line post-race gathering, and there are plenty of burgers and beers to go around as we recount our adventures on the trail that day.

Many locals already know about the Baker Lake 50K. It’s been a local well-known ultra race for many years. It’s an out-and-back on the East Baker Lake trail. The half version seems more feasible for trail half marathon fans and trail newbies alike. I personally love 25Ks. Doing “half of an ultra” always seems like a good idea. Running this trail in one direction is plenty of running for me.

The inaugural race started at the Kulshan Campground. There were about 60 runners, and we hopped on two Concrete school district buses to be shuttled out to the starting point. We bounced down the road to the pot-holed gravel road leading up to the Baker Lake east trailhead. I naively sat in the back of the bus, being tossed around and gassed out by diesel fumes. My stomach was already churning, contemplating the adventure ahead of me, and fortunately, I exited the bus before I could get fully “bus sick.” It’s always a rough start. Plus, it’s early! 

There were a number of us from the GBRC Wednesday night track workout group in attendance. These local races see a lot of us representing our club among many of the Skagit and Seattle running clubs. I always enjoy milling around at the start and socializing with the gang.

There wasn’t much of a start line, just a tarp where people had shed their jackets, hats, and extra items. Drop bags are not really a thing on the one-way version of this race, it’s more of a mass-shedding of clothing. The race director gave his instructions and started his watch with a quick shout.The group took off, with the front-runner speedsters leaping over boulders at the start of the trail. The trail was damp and muddy, the weather was gray and overcast, but no rain. Perfect cool weather running conditions. The first major landmark was the slippery suspension bridge over the turquoise and fast moving water of the Baker River. With so many runners pounding the bridge, it wiggled up and down precariously.

The miles ticked off and we found ourselves going up and down with lots of climbing through lush ferns and winding single-track. The first “aid station” was around a trail marker sign with about 20 one gallon jugs of water boated across the lake and stashed for runners to rehydrate. It’s a good spot to refill one’s water containers and chomp down a snack. Still about 10 miles to go!

The fun of this trail is the variable terrain, with rocky slides, stream crossings, dark creepy forest, and mossy lush lakeside single track. Sometimes you can see the mist-covered lake.

Mile 10 has another “aid station” again with a massive assortment of gallon jugs of water. Yet again at another trail marker sign. To me, this is a must-stop rest break. I know I must rehydrate, chug some Nuun to perk up, and eat something to finish strong. A bonk at 10 miles would almost certainly spell disaster out there. The most difficult climbs of the course are just ahead. Usually, up until this point in the race, the climbing is moderate and enjoyable, and you feel great. A stellar finishing time is just ahead! Anything feels possible in that moment as the endorphins are flowing, and the sound of your own footfalls on soft dirt and leaves fills you with contented joy.  

In my early days of running this race as an inexperienced trail runner, I’d been known to fall apart and have a quick cry on this particular trail. One time I had run out of energy, and while fumbling the wrapper on a string cheese, I allowed myself a brief wallowing in self-pity, “losing hope” that I would finish. (Of course I would, but that voice of doubt creeps in with fatigue and hunger.) A moment of dark despair grips me–will I make it out of these dark and mossy woods?   After a couple of hours of climbing and leaping over trail obstacles such as ankle-breaking rocks and downed tree limbs, I’m mentally drained from the constant hazard assessment and fast footwork required to avert a trail crash. Sometimes the leaves are slick and hide additional slippery hazards just below. Fortunately, the despair and tears lasts momentarily as calories get into my stomach and my mind begins to clear. The mental drama and emotional roller coaster is real, but fortunately, passes quickly. 

Most years my trail companion spouse Brock  and I have had a crash on the Baker Lake trail, either one or both of us during the same race. Usually the damage is a smearing of mud and some filthy clothes. A trip, dive and shoulder roll usually doesn’t slow us down for more than a few seconds, we are so practiced at crashing and popping right back up. “We have to beat our last time!” I usually yell, obsessed about what the red race clock numbers say down at the finish at the Kulshan Campground, and constant glances at my Garmin.  No time for injury evaluation. We’re just muddy. Let’s put the hammer down and get going!

The end of this race is a triumph. You are so tired from the constant climbing after crossing Anderson Creek. This section of the trail is a calf-burner. When you finally pop out of the woods to the trail sign signifying you’ve climbed out of the canyon, and the gravel road awaits, it’s a relief. It seems like it’s all downhill to the finish line now. But it’s not! More uphill climbing on a gravel road, and potholes and flying monster trucks are your main obstacles. Finally after 2 miles of hard pounding on gravel and pavement, you see the Baker Lake dam. Yes! Across the dam, then around the corner, and then you are heading down into the Kulshan Campground. I always relish this last turn into the finish.

This 25K is a roller coaster of terrain and emotions. Seeing that time clock, and running into the finish line–your GBRC pals are cheering for you! Is it overly dramatic to say that this is the best time of the whole year? And the finish line spread of veggie burgers, hot soup, chips and beer to enjoy among fellow Baker Laker trail warriors is the cap to a great day. This year will be our 7th time. I hope to see some of the gang out there!

Baker Lake 50K - Saturday October 1st, 2022/ Baker Lake 25K - Sunday, October 2nd. Register on UltraSignUp. Details: www.northwestenduranceevents.com Be careful with UltraSignUp, it’s addictive!

Photos: Top:Running along the Baker Lake trail, circa 2016. 

Middle:GBRC members celebrating and relaxing at the finish at the Kulshan Campground, (2016 or 2017?)

Bottom:The Baker Lake 25K medal.