Finishers:

 1.        Craig Thornley,OR                  8:46
 2.        Wayne Rancourt                       9:43
         & Mathew Weatherly-White        9:43
 3.        Ted Heal,UT                            10:23
        & Tim Seminoff,UT                    10:23
        & Garrett Graubins,CO              10:23
 7.        Leon Rothstein                      12:02
 8.       Taylor Cox                             12:07
 9.       Howard Brown,OR                13:22
        & Mike Thiel,OR                      13:22
        & Mary Ellen LaBerge,OR       13:22
 ----------------------------------------------------------------------
The following is Garett Graubins report from the Shafer Butte Endurance
Run.  Garett used the Shafer Butte Run as a prep for Western States which
he ran in a fine time of 23:24 this year.
FRANK HANSON
----------------------------
"I had originally planned to sign up for the Western States 100 Training
Weekend over Memorial Day Weekend.  It would have been ideal preparation
for the Western States 100 just four weeks later - seventy miles of the
course over three days, all the while spending time with other
ultrarunners just as focused on the race as I needed to be.  In the weeks
leading up to the weekend, though, my heart sank deeper everytime I
checked the airfares from Denver to Reno or Sacramento.  For the amount
of money the airlines were charging, I could backpack Europe or buy five
new pairs of trailrunning shoes !

So I decided to tailor my own training weekend.  Admittedly not so
self-disciplined that I could prod myself to run 50 miles on my own, I
began by searching for organized local ultramarathons.  My thinking was
that a race would commit me to running the mileage required over the
weekend, as opposed to a typical training run where it's always a bit
easier to cut things short.  My search turned up a few regional races -
one in Laramie, Wyoming and another in Boise, Idaho.  The Laramie race
promised a fast course, but running fast was not a priority for me on
this run.  It was far more important that I log a lot of time on my legs
- preferably in some heat to simulate the notorious Western States 100
sauna-like conditions.  The Boise race seemed to fit this description and
looked to be more difficult, with over 10,000 feet of climbing over 52
miles.

So I loaded up my car and set out from Denver on Memorial Day Friday for
an 1800-mile roadtrip.  In Boise, I expected a challenging race with some
old ultrarunning friends and some great camping in the Idaho Wilderness.
What I found in Boise, however, went far beyond just a trail race.  My
trip reminded me in every way of the reasons I run trails and,
specifically, ultramarathons.

The name of the race in Boise is the Shafer Butte 52 Miler, but local
runner's lovingly refer to it as the Chafe Your Butt Run.  If you're
looking for hoopla, organization, and big crowds at a race, then this
race is not for you.  The race does not have a website and even the
sign-up sheet is less than glitzy; it does not request an entry fee (but
does request that you bring micro-brewed beer) and mainly warns you about
numerous hazards and potential pratfalls.  As many Chafe Your Butt
runners attest, "Race Director Frank Hanson promises nothing, and he
delivers."

Nothing is exactly what the Shafer Butte Run provided in terms of
physical amenities.  No t-shirts.  No goody bags.  No awards.  And no aid
stations.  Instead of aid stations there were two trucks that were to
follow runners from point to point - the slow truck and the slower truck.
 The plan was for each runner to pack his/her own cooler and stash it in
the truck of their choice.  The trucks would meet runners at different
points where the singletrack intersected jeep roads. The thought of
missing my truck and water bottle refills made me a bit uneasier than I
already was.

During the week leading up to the race, I was in constant touch with an
ultrarunning friend and Boise local, Tom Noll.  I had met Tom in the
middle of the night along the Wasatch Front 100 course the previous
September and, although I suspect Tom didn't immediately remember me, he
was great at making me feel welcome at the race.  How welcome ?  Well,
for starters, he invited me to stay at his place the night before the
race.  After that, he offered to watch my dog during the race the entire
next day.  Ultrarunners are generally known for their easy-going-ness and
hospitality, but Tom took it to a new extreme.

The drive into Boise was far longer than I expected and I didn't roll
into Tom's driveway until 2 a.m. - just three hours before the scheduled
start to the race (although the Race Director said the race would start
"sometime around 5:15").  Having no desire to wake Tom, I crawled into my
sleeping bag in the back of my Subaru and spent the next few hours
sleeping and wrestling with my restless dog.  There are few things more
uncomfortable than an antsy 80-pound Labrador trying to chisel his way
into your sleeping bag.  I somehow managed to sleep a little before Tom
knocked on my car window at 4:30, inviting me inside for a quick wash and
some breakfast before heading to the starting line.  I couldn't believe
it - not only was this guy watching my dog all day, but now he was making
me breakfast ?!?!?  It was pure heaven and a perfect way to begin a day .
. . except for the fact I remembered there was a difficult race waiting
for me.

Tom and I arrived at the starting line just before everybody started
running down a dimly lit street.  After a mad scramble to place my cooler
in the appropriate truck, I was on my way.

"Who are you?"  Race Director Hanson hollered as I started to chase down
the quickly disappearing pack of runners.

"Garett from Colorado," I replied.

"Boulder, right?"

"No way !  Denver !"  I yelled back with my conviction that there is a
chasm of difference between Boulder and Denver runners.

I managed to catch several runners before the sun came up and soon found
myself stuck smack dab in the middle of a widening gap between the three
front runners and everybody else.  This was about the time I remembered
another item this race did not provide:  trail markers !  Still, though,
I pushed on, determined to not fall too far behind the lead runners.
"How difficult can it be," I wondered, "to stay on the course?"  I
repeated this thought until the third time I found myself lost.  Tired,
dusty, and frustrated, I retraced my steps to the last fork in the path
and waited for the next batch of runners to wander through.  With any
luck, they would be locals and could show me the way to the turnaround
point.

Sure enough, two veterans of the race - Tim Seminoff and Ted Heal - came
by and, after laughing at me, showed me the correct route.  I had learned
my lesson on this course and insisted on running with them for the
remainder of the race.  Even after the turnaround, when they suggested I
run harder and try to break ten hours, I opted to stay with them rather
than risking getting lost.

As we approached the race turnaround point, the leader of the race, Craig
Thornley whistled past us, seemingly as fresh as he was at 5 a.m.  It was
readily apparent he was going to win the race.  The "aid station truck"
met us at the turnaround with ice, sunblock, pbj sandwiches, and anything
else we could ever need, and we were on our way back to Boise.

Tim, Ted, and I ran hard for long stretches over the second half of the
course, with sporadic aid from our friends in the "aid truck".  The
course seemed even more gorgeous as I ran back towards Boise, taking us
through a ski area, a short rain shower, remnants of a large forest fire,
sheep-populated meadows (hold the jokes, please), and barren hills best
suited for rattle snakes.  By the time we reached the main paved access
road, the temperature had climbed to uncomfortable levels and, fittingly,
the route took our dead-tired bodies by a quaint old cemetery.

Just like the race as a whole, the finish brought new meaning to the
typical informality of ultramarathons.  We turned a corner down the final
stretch into a park, but there wasn't a finishing chute or even a banner
hyping up the fact we were done with a long day.  Instead, we saw only
our friends and the race organizer drinking microbrews around a big tree.
 The finish line, I soon learned, was the actual tree and our race clock
only stopped running once we touched it.

So Tim, Ted, and I tapped the tree in unison and our race was over.  No
trophies.  No medals.  No t-shirts.  Just a race in the purest sense.
Our final time of 10:23 was good enough to tie us for third.  Craig
Thornley of Oregon, won the race with an astounding time of 8:46.  Wayne
Rancourt and Mathew Weatherly-White - both Boise locals - shared second
place with an impressive 9:43.

(Tie in love of ultrarunning)

Most would describe this race as a training run or a club race, and
that's fine with me.  Really, though, I don't see any need to set this
race apart from larger-scale races with more hoopla surrounding them.
When it comes to ultrarunning, I've learned, a race is a race regardless
of the number of people or amount of local media exposure. They all share
the same attributes that would motivate any one of us to drive several
hundred miles in the middle of night just so we could run many miles of
quad-thrashing, bone-jarring trails.  In fact, the smaller the crowd and
the less the hysteria, I find, the greater the satisfaction and
camaraderie.  You can have your fields of 400 and 500 runners packing the
trails - I'll drive back to Boise to run with ten other people anytime !
*********************************************************
  From:  "Tom Noll" <tomnoll@micron.net>
 To: "ultra postings" <ULTRA@LISTSERV.DARTMOUTH.EDU>
 Date:  5/29/01 7:25AM
 Subject:  Shafer Butte Endurance Run, 52.4 miles

Shafer Butte Folks,
 It seems like only a short time ago that six frosty runners completed the
 first Shafer Butte Endurance Run on a snowy day in October 1984.  I
 organized that 44-mile race so that I would have a race to run without
 having to travel to the relatively few trail or mountain ultras that
 existed at that time.  I crewed that day, too as for some forgotten
 reason there was only one other volunteer aid person, and I wanted the
 other runners to have adequate aid.  Crewing is great, but I wish I could
 have run that first one as well as this last one.

 Now, nearly 17 years later, the 2001 Shafer Butte Run has also come and
 gone.  As always, it was a pretty cool run (I don't mean the 90 degree
 weather).  Eleven intended starters all finished (same as last year), and
 they were joined by eight or nine other runners who shared the trail for
 various distances.  The "feel" of the race was a lot like the 1984
 version and other years past - a bit of a retro ultra experience.  No
 hype, no pressure, no disqualification's, no awards, no bullshit (well,
 actually a lot of bullshit)  -- no worry if  this or the next one are
 proper sentences.  Just a trail dance on the Boise Front.

 Speaking of cool, Craig Thornley, a native of Cool, California, ran the
 first sub-9 since the distance was extended to 52 miles.  Craig ran well
 within himself and, although he was a bit tired (showing he's human), he
 was fresher that the other ten who followed him in.  Craig finished out
 his "cool running weekend" with Boise friends, Gary Stott and Lynn
 Nelson, by watching Alan Webb break Jim Ryun's high school record for the
 mile at the Pre Classic (3:53.43!).  I wish Craig the best at Western
 States.  I hope he reaches his goal of a top ten finish, but more so I
 hope he has a great experience racing the trails that he ran growing up.

 Last year's winner, Wayne Rancourt, and Matthew Weatherly-White were
 trail twins as they spent the day together running, walking, eating,
 drinking, and making fun of each other's attire (both with good reason).
 Although this was Matt's first ultra run, he is an accomplished athlete
 and adventurer.  I'm sure he will have a successful run at Wasatch later
 this summer.  Wayne will be back for next year's Shafer Butte along with
 his friend, Paul Johnson.  Paul didn't run this year, but he did show up
 to mooch beer at the finish (good plan, Paul).

 Finishing with Ted Heal were, Tim Seminoff and Garret Graubins.  Tim's desire
 for more climb and more trail, after the old Clear Creek loop trail was
 hit by a logging operation in 1998, was the impetus for the trails 5 & 6
 diversion on the initial climb (Seminoff Side Trip).  Tim had a good
 "training run", and I expect he'll throw some speed into next Saturday's
 Squaw Peak 50 near Provo.  Garrett drove from Denver (Not Boulder!)
 arriving in Tom Noll's driveway at 1:30 AM - just in time for a little
 sleep and a one minute late start on Saturday.  Garrett is also headed to
 Western States, and hopefully the rushed trip and warm weather was a good
 prep.

 Leon Rothstein, Taylor Cox, Mary Ellen LaBerge, Mike Thiel, and Howard
 Brown rounded out the field of eleven finishers.  Leon had a new plan
 this year - accepting aid.  Last year he was the "self-contained unit",
 carrying a large pack to prep for his successful Sawtooth Relay Solo run.
  Taylor Cox finished his first ultra by pacing himself well and drawing
 on his hiking and backpacking experience.  Taylor also had excellent crew
 support from his wife (whose name escapes me at the moment).

 Howard Brown ran in the second Shafer Butte (July 1985), and although
 like me he's older, fatter, slower, and sporting a lot less hair  -- HE'S
 STILL RUNNING!  It was great to see Howie on the trails again.  He has
 been battling back problems and asthma for a few years now, but I think
 running with the LaGrande ladies (Howard's Harem) has helped him return
 to ultra shape.  Howie, along with crew chief B.J. Brown, guided Mary
 Ellen and Mike to their first 50-mile finish.  Mary Ellen and Mike were
 both excited about their finish.