Let me tell you, the 2026 Colorado Trail Race wasn’t just a race—it was a test of human endurance against the raw, unrelenting power of nature. I’ve followed these kinds of ultra-endurance events for years, but this one felt different. The air was thick with smoke, the sun blazed like a vengeful deity, and the trail itself seemed to conspire against the racers. Yet, through it all, there was a strange beauty in the chaos. It’s easy to dismiss such events as glorified suffering, but to those who’ve stood on the edge of a mountain pass watching riders battle through wildfire haze, you understand why people do this. It’s not just about speed or distance—it’s about proving something to yourself, even when the world feels like it’s trying to break you.
What makes this race so fascinating is the way it mirrors the broader climate crisis we’re all grappling with. The organizers had to reroute sections of the trail due to the Willow Fire, and the smoke? It wasn’t just a backdrop—it was a participant. Racers were coughing through their helmets, their lungs burning from the particulate-laden air. I’ve seen plenty of endurance events, but this felt like a glimpse into the future. Imagine a world where every long-distance race is a battle against the elements, not just against your own limits. That’s not a stretch anymore. It’s here, and it’s real.
Now, let’s talk about the people. Alex McCormack won this year, and honestly, I don’t think anyone saw that coming. He didn’t have a single flat tire, no mechanical issues—just sheer, unrelenting focus. But what struck me more than his time was the way he moved through the course. There’s a rhythm to these riders, a kind of dance between grit and grace. You see it in the way they navigate the singletrack, the way they pause to catch their breath on the steepest climbs. It’s not just physical—it’s psychological. They’re not just racing the trail; they’re racing the idea of giving up.
Then there’s the photography angle. Eddie Clark’s work isn’t just documentation—it’s storytelling. I’ve seen his shots before, but this year’s collection felt more visceral. The image of Alex McCormack riding past Mount Guyot, the smoke-streaked sunset over the San Juans, the quiet moment of Nicolette Jones eating on a flat section of trail—these aren’t just pictures. They’re windows into a world most of us will never experience. And yet, they make you want to. That’s the magic of these races: they turn the impossible into something almost poetic.
But here’s what I find most interesting: the human element. Take Jefe Branham, the race director. He’s been through this before, but this year, he was out there on the trail, riding with the racers. It’s not just about organizing a race—it’s about being part of the community. And then there’s the Vietnam memorial at Sergeants Mesa. Eddie took the time to honor the soldiers, and it struck me how deeply that moment resonated. These races aren’t just about speed or endurance—they’re about connection, to the land, to each other, and to the past.
Of course, the environmental toll can’t be ignored. Over half the racers scratched due to the fires and heat. That’s staggering. It raises a deeper question: how long can events like these survive in a world where climate disasters are becoming the norm? Maybe the answer lies in adaptation. Maybe future races will be shorter, or held in different seasons. Or maybe they’ll become even more extreme, a kind of Darwinian test of who can endure the most. Either way, the Colorado Trail Race isn’t just a race—it’s a microcosm of our relationship with the planet. And as long as there are people willing to ride through smoke and fire, there will be stories worth telling.
So, what’s next? I’m not sure. But one thing’s clear: the Colorado Trail Race isn’t just about finishing a race. It’s about the journey, the struggle, and the moments in between. And if you’ve ever stood at the edge of a mountain pass, watching someone push themselves to the limit, you’ll understand why people keep coming back. It’s not just about the trail. It’s about the fire within.
