Section 1 – “Warm-Up? That’s Cute.” (4.75 miles | +618 ft./-883 ft.)

We send you off from the resort with a friendly reminder: nothing here goes straight.

You’ll dip into the woods and immediately start threading together a greatest hits album of Hink’s Delusion—featuring bonus tracks like Udy and Jed—because one version of a climb clearly wasn’t enough. You’ll pop out near the tubing area, duck back in, weave between ski slopes and roads, and eventually claw your way toward Stoehr Climb just below the summit.

You’ll cross the road, regroup for about five seconds, and then we point you toward Herman Point. The towers are your beacon. Or your warning.

From there, it’s down Lost Turkey Trail and into one of the steepest descents on the course: Herman Steps into Blister Blaster. Six hundred feet gone in under a mile. Your quads will file a complaint. It will be ignored.

Just before the campground, we make you earn your first aid—sharp left, gradual climb, and into Chappelle Field. Water, snacks, and your first real understanding of what you signed up for.

[Map and Elevation Chart for the Course]

Section 2 – “A Trap Disguised as Flow” (2.25 miles | +402 ft. / -600 ft.)

You leave Chappelle thinking, “Okay… that wasn’t so bad.”

That’s because we give you a quarter mile of smooth doubletrack to lull you into poor decision-making.

Upper Ridge Trail rolls out in front of you—flowy, runnable, just technical enough to feel fun. And then, without ceremony, it turns straight up Deep Hollow.

Four hundred feet in 0.4 miles. No tricks. No switchbacks to save you. Just up.

At the top, you catch your breath for exactly as long as it takes to realize you’re about to drop over 500 feet in just over half a mile. It’s steep. It’s loose. It’s the kind of downhill that rewards confidence and punishes everything else.

You spill out onto Sawmill Trail, circle the lot, break into the open field, and arrive at Raven Rest.

It’s a good place. You’ll need it.

Section 3 – “Beaver Dam Canyon: The Reckoning” (3.84 miles | +1480 feet / -721 ft.)

This is the section people talk about after.

You start with a climb, then a contour, then a drop that feels just a little too aggressive… because it is. That descent dumps you into Beaver Dam Run, and that’s where the real work begins.

What follows is less running and more vertical problem-solving.

Nearly 1,000 feet of climbing in under a mile. Wet rocks. Slick footing. “Rock steps” that feel more like a staircase built by someone who didn’t believe in comfort. Sometimes there’s a waterfall. Sometimes it’s a trickle. Either way, it’s watching you.

You cross Three Springs Trail and keep climbing—because of course you do—before finally reaching the Stone Pads. Flat. Balanced. Almost peaceful. It feels like a reward.

It isn’t. It’s just a transition.

You roll along the summit edge, pass the overlook, and eventually drop to the road and into Heavens Hairpin Aid Station.

You’ve made it through the hardest part.

Probably.

[Map and Elevation Chart for the Course]

Section 4 – “Eurus Decides” (2.55 miles | +891 ft. / -1190 ft.)

You leave the aid station and head back toward the lodge. For a moment, it feels like you’re re-entering civilization.

Then you drop down the ski slopes—Upper Mambo into Lower Mambo—fast, open, and just reckless enough to make you forget what’s coming.

And then you see it.

Eurus.

The wall. The reason people either grin… or go quiet.

Eurus or ‘The East Wind’ is terrifying force that lays waste to all in its path. It seeks out the unworthy and plucks them from the Earth

Four hundred-plus feet straight up at grades that don’t feel necessary. Twenty to forty percent, depending on how honest you want to be. There’s no strategy here. You just get up it.

At the top, you get a brief reprieve. Brief.

Then it’s back to work—Edgeset drops you, Stembogen pulls you along, and “I Need a Sherpa!” asks one last question about your remaining dignity.

From there, it’s a chaotic mix of rollers, switchbacks, and rocky nonsense as the mountain squeezes out whatever you’ve got left.

And then, suddenly, you’re back.

Out of the woods. Past the shed. Across the line.

You came for a half marathon.

What you got was the full Rock ’N The Knob experience—just compressed into something slightly more survivable.