Running the Bridger Ridge: Then and Now
- charlesjromeo
- 6 days ago
- 10 min read
Updated: 18 hours ago
Early morning, August 9, 2025. Runners are making final preparations for the 40th running of the Ed Anacker Bridger Ridge Run put on by the Big Sky Wind Drinkers:
Jonah is bouncing around holding his privates. “Man I miss the old days. Few runners, no lines at the John.”
The young guy in front of him turns around. “Would you like that Jonah? Would you like to go back to the old days?”
“Uh huh.” Jonah says as he continues bouncing. He isn’t sure he can hold it. He notices a porta-potty that he hadn't seen before. It doesn't have a line. “Hey man, is anyone gonna use that porta-potty?” Jonah says as he points to it.
The woman behind him sees Jonah’s discomfort and says with a laugh, “Jonah Stonah, if you see a porta-potty over there, go use it.”
“Well alright then,” and Jonah quickly duck walks over to the porta-potty. As he goes to open the door, the young man who had been in front of him in line steps out. He holds the door open, and welcomes Jonah with a flourish. “Good morning Jonah, just be careful what you touch.”
“Huh, who are you man?”
“I’m Ben.”
“Uh huh.” Jonah’s not interested. He closes the door. He sits down, ah. He sees a red button and he struggles to read the words written on it in tiny print: “Time Flush.” “Cool, a porta-potty that flushes, man.” He pushes the button and feels himself being sucked down: "Whoa!" A moment later he is jetted back up, but now he's sitting on a wag bag in a porta-potty tent. He screams, "What the fuck!" as he bursts from the tent. He looks back a bit unsteadily. “I haven't been in one of those since the early Ridge Runs. That was weird, man.”
Ben comes up. “Jonah, are you ready for today?”
Jonah looks at him. “Who are you man, and how do you know me?”
“I’m Ben. We just … never mind. Everyone knows you Jonah. You’re the only person to have competed in all 39 Ridge Runs.”
“Uh huh. Hey, where’d everyone go?”
“Everyone’s here. All 25 of you.”
“Huh. That’s just like 1985. Wow man. Look at this van.” Jonah walks over to the old blue VW van sitting near the starting line. “This looks just like Ed’s van. I remember all of us squeezing into it for the ride up here. He’d squeeze in everyone he could, then he’d stuff a few more of us in. We’d all be crammed in and we’d have to all get out and push it up the steepest hills. Jonah smiles. “Oh man, I miss those days.”
“Well, maybe you won’t have to.”
“Won’t have to what man?” But before Ben could answer, Jonah heard ‘GO’ and he quickly turned and ran to join the other racers starting up the trail. Jonah raced up to the top of Sacajawea. He high fived the volunteers at the top. “I don’t know what it is, but I feel amazing today.” Then he turned to continue. “Hey, where’s the trail, man?” He turned back to the volunteers, but their attention was now focused on other racers. “Aw, fuck it man. I know the route. I’m going for it.” And with that Jonah started racing across the scree. Ben caught up with him. Jonah glances over. “This sucks, man. It took years of racing to form something like a trail across this face. A few years in, Ed started marking the face with tape to get everyone running the same route. Maybe there was an earthquake and it all shook back the way it was.”
"If there was an earthquake wouldn't you know it?"
"Know what, man?"
"Never mind."
Jonah crossed Naya-Nuki then turned and started working his way down toward the foothills trail. He catches flashes of other racers descending. He turns to Ben who is running next to him. “Wow man, I’m getting flashes of these other racers as I'm passing them, but they’re not here, and WHOA! Did you see that? That guy just ran right through me and then disappeared.”
“Maybe you’re between two realities.”
“Huh? Between realities, man. I can dig it. Kinda like an acid flashback, but way cooler!”
“Can you tell me what it was like running this section in 1985?”
“Yeah man. We were all searching for our own way down. Some went way south to cut the distance and ended up in some sketchy steep shit. We were just out here. No guidance. Just going for it. Whoa, Foothills trail. We made it. Cool. Time for Stonah speed.” Jonah cranked up the pace and raced down the trail. “Man this is great, I don’t even have get runners to move out of the way, I just run through them. Stonah is on the move!”
Jonah looks at his watch as he approaches Ross Pass. It’s a Timex with a dial face. “Hey where’s my Garmin?”
“Is there a problem, Jonah?”
Jonah jumps. “Who the fuck are you man?”
“I’m Ben. We met earlier.”
“Uh huh.” But Jonah is lost in thought. I used to set my watch to seven when Ed started the race. Looks like I did that, cool.” He looks over at Ben. “I’m running a great time.”
At Ross Pass two volunteers with some water await the racers. Jonah looks at them confused. “Where’s the watermelon, man, and the pickle juice. I’d love me a shot of pickle juice.” The volunteers are busy with all the racers coming through. It all looks like a mirage of movement and no one can seem to see or hear Jonah. “Fuck it, man. I got a race to run.” With that he takes off, but he finds that the trail fades out after a few feet. He stops and looks around.
“Any ideas on how to go?”
“Who are you, man?”
“I’m Ben, you know Ben, we’ve talked.”
Jonah is irritated. “They put a trail up here in 2016. It’s missing. Before then we would climb straight up this face on all fours grabbing at rocks and trees to pull ourselves up. He catches a glimpse of some racers passing by. He tries to follow them, but he keeps getting smacked by trees and brush. “Fuck this, I remember the old route,” and Jonah works his way straight up the face, arms and legs pumping as he grabs for whatever is in reach to propel him higher. Before he knows it he is on the scree field at the top of the face. “Alright, almost there.” He pops over the top, looks around. “Up on the ridge again, old school,” as he nods and smiles.
On the ridge south of Ross Pass looking north and south
Ben pops up right behind him. “Well that was fun, but how do we go from here?”
Jonah has his back turned to Ben, and jumps at the sound of his voice. “Who the fuck are you and where did you come from?”
“Ben, we’ve been running together.”
Jonah starts running. “I hope there’s a trail up here, man. I mean we have miles of ridge travel ahead of us. This was the hard part in the old days. We’d all be out here taking different routes. Each one of us trying to find the shortest way, trying not to get cliffed out and having to backtrack. I’d look and see other racers above and below me. Some tromping through woods, some following the ridge line trying to keep with the spirit of the race, no matter how fucked the ridge was. No one knew how to go.” Jonah quickly figured out that there was no trail. “Looks like I’m going to have to rely on my vast intellect to find my way forward. Now which way is south?”
“But the course was measured, wasn’t it?”
“Huh. Who are you?”
“Ben. We’ve been over this.”
“Yeah. Ed measured it with a wheel before the first race: 19.65 miles. But here’s the thing. That mischievous fucker didn’t tell anyone the route he measured. Some of us ran a lot farther. We’d be running, if we came near Ed, in a voice full of menace, he’d say, “I’d like to get my hands on the guy who dreamed up this race.”
“Why didn’t everyone just follow Ed?”
“He was old by then, a tough old coot, but he wasn’t leading the pack anymore.” Jonah raises his arm with open hand as he says this. “We’re all out here because of you Ed, but can you show me the god damned trail?”
“You think that’ll work?”
“You’re kidding right. That fucker’s up there laughing his head off.”
Jonah and Ben are pushing hard to reach Bridger Bowl. They’ve been trekking in silence for a while. Ben asks, “Why does the course start at Fairy Lake instead of Flathead Pass?”
“Huh. I was in the zone, man. Who are you?”
“Hi, I’m Ben.” He pulls up next to Jonah and holds out his hand.
Jonah looks over at him, then pulls in front before he starts to speak. “Ed wanted to start the race at Flathead Pass to have it be full marathon length. He scouted the route in the early 80s, but he found the terrain too difficult: big peaks and lots of exposure. A group did it in 2011 to honor Ed, shortly after he passed. They showed that it was possible, but it was a one-time deal.”
They approached the Bridger Bowl Aid Station. “Cool, maybe they’ll have watermelon or orange slices, and I could use a cup of coke.” The two volunteers clapped as Jonah came running up and offered him a cup of water. Jonah felt a hint of frustration, but he was feeling amazing. It was as though he was 40 years younger. He thanked the volunteers, drank the water and took off running.
A short while later Ben ran up next to Jonah and asked, “Do you know where to go?”
“Who the fuck are you, man?”
“Just been running with you a while, Ben’s my name.”
“This is a tough section. There’s no trail, but in the summers after the first race, me and some buds came up here a few times to try and figure out the best way to go.” Jonah put two fingers on each temple and gave an intense look.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m summoning my vast powers of memory." Jonah looks confused. He turns to Ben. "What mountain range is this?"
Now it’s Ben who's confused.
"Never mind, I remember. I know which way to go.” And with that Jonah picked up speed and worked his way along the ridge and around the cliffs. “I got this, man.” He continued pushing past Bridger Bowl, then powering his way up Saddle Peak all the while seeing flashes of runners that he passed or pushed right through. “I love this shit, man.”
Ben came up beside him. “What’s that, Jonah?”
Jonah stumbled as he turned to look at Ben. “Who are you man?”
“I’m … it doesn’t matter.”
“I love running, man. I love the freedom of racing along mountain tops, and I really love zooming through other runners. It’s like they’re holograms, man.”
“Enjoy it Jonah. It’s almost over.”
“Huh?” Jonah crested Saddle Peak, raced down the other side and along the ridge, on a section of ridge so obvious he didn’t need a trail. Bridger Peak loomed in the distance.
Ben pulled up next to him. “Are you going to stick to the ridge?”
“Where the fuck did you come from?”
“I’ve been right here, running just behind you.”
"I know that, but what I keep asking is who are you, man and where are you from?"
"I'm Ben, just Ben."
“I’m beginning to like you, man but I can't figure you out.”
Ben looks away, says inaudibly, "You''ll know soon enough."
Jonah looks him over, not sure what to think. “Whatever. There’s no good way to go here. Before they put the trail across the face the only way to go was to stick to the ridge and go over the peak. I guess that’s today’s route.” Jonah bounds up the ridge like a mountain goat. At the top he lets out a howl and pounds his chest. He turns to Ben, "I’ll bet they heard that in all the realities, yours and mine.”
Ben ignores this and takes in the view. "It's beautiful here."
Jonah starts down. Not too far now to Baldy. Ben is right beside him. Ben doesn’t speak and sets himself behind Jonah when the terrain gets ragged. They come off the peak one north of Baldy. Ben pulls up beside Jonah who turns to him. “I remember 1985 Baldy Crew like it was yesterday. A dad and his two sons who hauled water up for us that morning. It wasn’t the party that Baldy has become, but they killed it. They got water to the top of this peak for us.”
“Jonah.” Ben starts, “The trail begins at the top of Baldy. You won’t need me anymore.”
“Huh? Of course I need you man. We’re running buds.” Ben starts to drop back; Jonah is nearing the peak and he turns around to see Ben wave as he fades away. "Ben, stay with me, let's finish this together." The party on the top of the peak erupts as Jonah arrives.
“Jonah Stonah in 3 hours, 30 minutes. That’s amazing!” Everyone is congratulating him. Jonah looks at the offerings. It’s all there: watermelon, orange slices, pickle juice, soda. He’s trying to decide what he wants first, and he’s still glancing back wondering what happened to Ben, what happened today, when he hears it.
It’s quiet at first but it builds. “Jonah Stonah, Jonah Stonah, Jonah Stonah, Jonah Stonah, Jonah Stonah!”
Jonah turns to look. He beams a smile at the pink flamingo and the beer purveyors who are dancing and chanting. All is back to normal, all is right with the world. Jonah raises his arms in triumph and yells, “Keg Stand!”
*25 trailblazers set off in the first Ed Anacker Ridge Run in 1985: 24 men and one woman. All but one runner finished. US Olympic biathlete Jon Engen took top honors with a time of 3:36 followed by Alex Lowe 4 minutes and 15 seconds later.
They were in sight of each other for most of the run, each one often taking a different route. Nobody greeted them at the finish line, because of the belief that a sub-four hour time was impossible. Engen’s record lasted for a decade, until Chad Andersen ran 3:24 in 1996. Subsequently, Scott Creel ran a course record 3:09 in 2002. The duration of Engen’s record is even more impressive in that there was no trail along the top of the Ridge in those early years—route finding and footing were even more of a challenge then than now. The first female finisher was June Freedman in 5:55. In 1986 Barbara Batey set a new record of 5:12 that lasted until the early nineties. Through the mid-nineties the women’s record was periodically broken until 1995, when Nancy Dolan finished in 4:07, a record that stood for eight years (and still easily represents the narrowest gap—22 minutes—between first male and first female). Nikki Kimball was the first woman to break four hours with an amazing 3:53 in 2004.
The Ridge Run steadily increased in popularity. In 1997 for the first time, more than 100 runners finished: 36 women and 84 men. In 2002, the number of finishers topped 200 for the first time: 75 women and 139 men. By 2010 there were 299 finishers.
*The information in this short section is all pulled from "The Ed Anaker Bridger Ridge Run 1985-2005." The second paragraph is copied verbatim from page 4.
Acknowledgements: Kurt Buchl, Rob Maher and David Summerfield provided me with the information I needed to write this story. Thanks guys!
