2024 Jigger Johnson 50 Mile

A race write up by Lisa Chaput

It’s not hard…

…it’s diabolical.

Okay, maybe that’s a strong assessment, but the Jigger Johnson 50 Mile Race is a really freaking hard course. The folks doing the 100? Amazing badasses because they do it twice over. But it’s not hard because of the distance. And to be honest, the elevation isn’t really that bad. It’s the terrain. 

There are ascents and descents on relentless boulder and rock flows with roots flowing in and out like those vein-thingies in the upside-down from Stranger Things. Multiple water crossings challenge you to assess where the trail picks up on the other side, only to find that you crossed in the wrong spot and need to double back—not to mention you may be in this precarious situation at night. There’s climbing up and down rock faces and boulders. There are bogs and mires. It’s the billy goat that demands a toll on one of the Sawyer River Trail bridges….or maybe I imagined that? 

Anyway, I’m sure you get the point. It’s much more than distance and elevation.

Why “Jigger Johnson”?

The why for the name? It’s alliterative (that’s always fun), and there’s a Campground off the nearby Kancamagus Highway with the name. I think the founders of the race, Kristina Folcik and Rem Stone, explain in a YouTube video interview. But if I remember correctly, it has to do with the local lore of this guy, Jigger Johnson. 

Jigger Johnson was a drunk version of Paul Bunyon. A legendary local logger known for his strength and skill with a saw, though his alcohol use would get him in trouble from time to time. Still, he had mountain grit—catching bobcats barehanded and biting ears off the men who didn’t follow the rules. Maybe he and Mike Tyson are related? Either way, the name certainly sets the stage. It’s a race for the rock-solid, down-and-dirty, it’s-only-a-flesh-wound kinda person.

Tell us more about the race.

Really?? I thought you’d never ask! It’s 56 miles, give or take—trail races are almost always a different mileage than stated (usually over), and in the end, I ended up with 59.5 miles and about 17,000 ft of elevation gain. Mostly rugged single track, but some asphalt road running and a good number of logging road miles. 

There are 5 major climbs ranging from about 1800 to 2500 ft over 2.3 to 2.7 mi with average inclines of 14-20%. But those are averages. As you near the top of most of the peaks, you’ll see 40% and higher.

There are no markings, but for the most part, the trails are worn enough to tell where to go. Different story at the intersections. At some of the junctions, there are White Mountain National Forrest signs. As far as I noticed, the logging roads had no markings except for a small signs that say something like BX-422. There are some blazes. For those reasons, you must be able to navigate or feel comfortable using GPS on your phone or watch—especially around the Bartlett Experimental Forrest, Hancock Notch, and the logging roads leading into the Sawyer aid station.

The aid stations are at 17, 32, 40, and 48 miles. If you’re a heavy sweater, you’ll need to be able to filter water on your own or carry over 2 L. For reference, during the first leg, I carried 2 L and filtered 1L and was dry by the aid station (3L in 6.5 hours over 17 mi). A huge plus is that you can have drop bags for all the aid stations.

You’re allowed pacers from the Sawyer aid station. There are plenty of folks to hook up with during the race, but if you need someone to kick you in the ass (like I probably did), this is the perfect opportunity!

You have 30 hours to finish the 50. This seems like ample time on the surface, but if you consider what you have to do in the dark, the time starts to make more sense. Every minute on these trails when it’s dark takes twice as long.

And because I’m not sure where else to put this, but it is very important for some folks…whether there are porta-potties brought in or not, there are bathrooms available to the public at the Waterville Valley town center, off of 302 (left) on the way to Tremont about a half-mile before the trailhead, and at the Osceola aid station. There were porta-potties at the start of the 50 mile race (halfway for the 100 mile racers), but everywhere else, you’ll have to convene with nature.

Before we get to the more opinion part of this write-up, a little on your author’s background…

I (Lisa) ran the Jigger Johnson 50 in 2024. It was my first mountain ultra-distance race. I love the Whites and was psyched to be a part of it just to spend hours on mostly new-to-me trails. I had heard it was hard, but was up for the challenge. The previous year had been brutal with record rains and floods (during the race), and somehow even after hearing the stories, I still wanted to try it out. Before this, I had done the Pemi, Presi, multiple hour-long runs in the Whites anywhere from 10 to 32 miles, and then 50k, 45, 60, and 100 mile ultra trail races.

I’m 46, married with two kiddos (17 and 13), a Boston Terrier (infinite toddler), an RD for the TARC Wapack and Back Trail Races, a former teacher, current writer and seeker of paid work.

You say it’s hard. How is training for Jigger Johnson different from another 50 with the same elevation?

Because of its technical and rugged nature, time training on the trail is huge. Knowing where to filter, where the steeper sections are, where poles are needed (if you use them) or need to be stashed, which rocks are grippy and which are the slippery ones, working on fast feet so you don’t wreck your legs breaking… it’s the things you can think about and plan for but can’t really know until you’re foot hits the ground. Unfortunately, it’s a big time commitment to go to the Whites unless you live there, and even if you do, it’s still a huge time commitment!

Can you still run a great race having not been on the course?

Heck ya! But nothing’s better than the real thing. Most people would still need lots of technical trail time, whether in the Whites or not. Technical can be subjective, so make sure you check out all the pictures you can of these trails and trails in the Whites.

It’s also worth mentioning here that Attitash and Tecumseh’s ascent and Tremont’s descent are less traveled and therefore less rocky-rooty-bouldery. However, you still need quick feet as those sections have very slick dirt and or mud. Also, there’s that scree section coming down from Table Top. 

What other “stuff” is good to know before taking on this race?

Though the course has a lot of technical trail, there are some very runnable sections (Attitash descent to Tremont climb, Tremont descent to Sawyer aid station, Tecumseh descent to the finish). “Runnable” is also subjective, but truly, these are sections most folks could run—you just may not want to because you’re being strategic or worn out. I would say 1/3 very runnable, 1/2 varying ranges of runnable/walkable (think of the pictures at the beginning of this post), and 1/6 climbing, jumping or negotiating. 

Unless you’ve run it before, I think it’s good to go into the race with a 100-miler mindset. Unless you’re breaking course records, you’ll be running into the night, and it’ll hurt no matter how you slice it. Having strategies to deal with the funks of nighttime running and empty tanks are good. Even if you’re super fast, you’ll be finishing after the sun goes down…or comes back up again!

And, it’s also worth mentioning that this is a race where efficient hikers have an advantage—especially multi-day hike and thru hiker folks. 

I read this far because I was curious…but I still don’t get why people run at all, let alone 50 or 100 miles. Wait…what?? They do 200 mi? WTF? Why do they do that?

The answer to this question is lengthy and better saved for another post. But, a quick response would be because it’s a great way to test your limits without hurting anyone except for maybe yourself. And when you’re living those painful moments during these races, you reach a point of clarity that’s hard to come by except during intense meditation.

So, what happened with your Jigger Johnson race?

I wanted to finish the race in no more than 24 hours. I thought I could finish in 22 hours if everything aligned. I finished in 28:40. 

I knew it was uncharted territory. As the  race day got closer, my wishful-thinking plans of running in the Whites every other weekend evaporated—I had to be there for my family first—so in the back of my mind where logic and reality tend to reign, I knew I had to plant the, “to finish is good,” seed so I wouldn’t be totally depressed id I didn’t make my top goals. But still, I was very bummed. Angry at myself. I wasn’t in control of my negatives during the race. While I’ve never considered a pacer or crew, I think having someone to give me tough love would have helped. And now, with weeks of reflection, looking back at my training and life the five weeks before the race, my A goal should have been 24 hours, and my B goal should have been to finish, even though that hurts my ego:-).

To be clear, taking on this race/course is a serious challenge, and I have a tremendous amount of respect for anyone who toed the line. In general, anyone putting themselves out there to experience a challenge and discomfort, I salute you!

I swore I would never do this race again when I crossed the finish line. But now that I’m rested, I want revenge and definitely want to do it again! I learned A LOT from the race and am excited about what’s happening in training and races this fall. I’m looking forward to a better 2nd race at Jigger Johnson, which may have to wait until 2026 because of family stuff, but so be it!

What worked well

-Filtering water was great and easy using a Katadin Be Free. I would fill it up, chug 500 mL, then fill it again and leave. 

–HOKA Speedgoats worked well! Only slipped once and it was really more because it was scree than because of bad traction. Much better than my Altra Lone Peaks, which I left at home.

–Injinjis were good. One little blister on my pinky toe. Changed socks at every aid station but Osceola.

What could be improved

-Pacing at the beginning. I think I went too slow (was talking it up with race-mates and just kinda hanging out) and could have gone faster without pushing the pace. I think getting to Hancock before dark is crucial.

-Better vest organization. I have the Salomon Advanced Skin 12 (unisex). It’s awesome, but I couldn’t find things when I needed them while moving. I should have just stopped, but…

–New Camelback bladder. The new hose hadn’t stiffened up yet. It kinked, though at the time, I thought it was trapped. Couldn’t get the water out of the hose!

-Better sleep the night before. The campground was awesome and quiet. It was just my sleeping setup. I think I’m just not a camping-the-night-before kinda gal. 

-Training on course trails. I had limited time with family stuff going on, and the one time I did go up, I went to Franconia Ridge. Should have done repeats on Tremont.

-Mental state was shot. I was having not-typical-to-me thoughts and then I didn’t want to eat. Still forced food but needed to have eaten and drank a lot more. Again, having someone who knew me and could remind me not to be weak-sauce would have been awesome. But also being aware of it now is helpful.

-Training in heat and drop in protein intake leading up to the race. Training wasn’t ideal due to family/life obligations. I did a lot of training in weather that probably hurt me more than helped. I also think the change in routine in the weeks leading up to the race hindered my fueling on all levels, especially with protein. It may not have been a factor, but I’ll be keeping a closer eye on it for the next round.

Out of my control but good to be aware of

-Great weather!  It was a little hot on 302 and a little humid at times, but for the most part, the day couldn’t have been better.

-I got my period for the second time in three weeks during the race. Definitely perimenopause fun. While not all women have the same hormonal experiences, I can say with confidence that I am affected mentally and physically by my hormonal fluctuations but hadn’t really thought about what that does during a race. Nothing? Something?  Probably by the time I figure it out, I’ll be done with the roller coaster.

Gear 

Besides the vest, filter, bladder, shoes, and socks, I also used:

Garmin 955 It was great for showing stats like how far the next climb was, but truly it was the best when it came to navigation. Pulling out my phone whenever I wanted to check the course would be a pain. Do you need a GPS watch? No. You could use your phone. But it is way convenient and if you’re a data nerd, there’s a lot to dig through.

Leki Trekking Poles Didn’t pull them out until the bog for Attitash, then used them on and off until after Tremont. I was using them pretty consistently until the steep stuff at Osceola. Took them out again on the Osceola descent with all the rocks and slanted slabs and kept them out until the end. They were great on steep sections when you needed three points of contact but didn’t want to bend over. Awesome for balance when avoiding the muck. Great for getting in a rhythm when you are in a funk (Hi! That was me!) Also, these aren’t inexpensive, but you see broken poles all the time in the Whites. It’s worth it to get the stronger materials.

Nitecore Rechargeable Headlamp This was okay. It started to go out at about 4 am, then I pulled out my Petzl, which I had been using the night before, and it was about dead by 6 am. Must have had bum batteries for the Petzl. I feel like the Nitecore has lasted longer in the past, but I have been using it pretty consistently for 3 years, so it might just be getting old. I do love how lightweight it is. 

Anker Lipstick Charger Used it to charge my watch (which could have lasted the whole race if I hadn’t used the map) from about 11 pm to 12 am. Then, I charged my phone on the way down from Osceola. Super convenient and relatively light.

Would you recommend this race?

Jigger Johnson is a special mix of adventure, challenge, and discomfort. I think anyone without physical limitations can do any race with the right training and attitude. But this race makes me pause. Saying that makes me laugh now because I saw that pause on the faces of everyone I told I was running the race and knew the course!

I’d say, if you’re thinking about doing the race (and you haven’t done this already), spend a solid six hours going up and down technical trails similar to the race. It doesn’t have to be fast. After you’re done, if you like it, your body is cool with it, and given the distance and elevation you covered were decent (keeping in mind that you might have to quadruple that effort for the race), I’d say go for it! If you get to the end and you’re done with rocks and roots, then maybe this one isn’t for you. And that’s totally cool because ultra runs are about the commingling of suffering and enjoyment, not suffering and despair. If you’re looking for hard, about a thousand other races can break you down and provide that type 2 fun you need in your life:-).

Conclusion

Jigger Johnson is hard and not a newbie course. I cursed and loved every minute of it. If you decide to go for it and don’t get a chance to run the course before the race, give yourself grace at the end if it doesn’t go as planned. I imagine most races this rugged are the same in that manner. You can only plan for what you know. And since this course is so young, there isn’t a lot of info out there. I hope this helps!

This wasn’t the race I wanted to run. I may be past my prime, but can’t say I’m done thinking I can go for it. And as I get older, though I still beat myself up when I don’t do as well as I would have liked, it’s a lot less so because I’m embracing more of the adventure in the process.

So if you see me around, I’ll have a smile on my face even if things didn’t go to plan, because I have a new plan and another adventure on the horizon.

*Races are the main meal, but the people you meet and share the journey with are the dessert. Thank you to friends new and old, especially Alli, Dan, Tari, Meg, Melissa, Gus, Ethan and Alex.

**The links in here are just for reference. There is no payment or anything like that:-).