Western States 100: The Oldest 100 Miler in the World
Every last full weekend of June, at 5:00 a.m. sharp, a shotgun blast echoes at the base of Palisades Tahoe ski resort in California. A wave of roughly 380 runners surges into the half-light to climb the Escarpment — the first obstacle of a 100.2-mile journey to the Placer High School track in Auburn. This is the Western States Endurance Run — the WSER, or simply Western States 100.
It is the oldest 100-mile trail race on the planet, the cradle of modern ultrarunning, and the event that, half a century later, still serves as the global benchmark. A deep dive into the race that invented it all.
1. The origin: a lame horse and a stubborn man
The story of Western States begins where it was never supposed to begin: on horseback. The Tevis Cup, a 100-mile equestrian race from the Sierra Nevada to Auburn, has been run since 1955. It was created by Wendell Robie, a local banker convinced that a well-conditioned horse could cover that distance in a single day.
In 1974, a young horseman named Gordy Ainsleigh showed up at the Tevis Cup start line. But his horse came up lame. Rather than scratch, he decided to run the course on foot. Not as a tourist either: he aimed for 24 hours, the riders' benchmark time. Nobody believed it was possible. "It's beyond human capacity," Wendell Robie reportedly said.
Gordy finished in 23 hours and 42 minutes. He became the first human to run 100 mountain miles in under a day. The legend was born. Three years later, in 1977, the first official edition of the Western States Endurance Run was held. It has never stopped since.
2. Key numbers
| Data | Value |
|---|---|
| Distance | 100.2 miles (~161 km) |
| Total climb | ~18,000 ft (~5,500 m) |
| Total descent | ~23,000 ft (~7,000 m) |
| Highest point | 8,750 ft / 2,667 m (Emigrant Pass, mile 2.5) |
| Lowest point | 705 ft / 215 m (Auburn) |
| Overall cutoff | 30 hours |
| Sub-24 h | Silver buckle |
| 24-30 h | Bronze buckle |
| Format | Linear, point-to-point, always clockwise |
| Field size | ~380 runners |
The profile is deceiving: 18,000 ft of climbing sounds "easy" compared to UTMB (~33,000 ft) or Hardrock 100 (~33,000 ft at a 11,000 ft average elevation). But Western States is won or lost somewhere else: in the canyons, in the heat, and at the Rucky Chucky river crossing.
3. The course: Lake Tahoe to Auburn, point to point
It is one of the most beautiful races in the world precisely because it doesn't loop back on itself. You start high in the Sierra and you drop, valley after valley, down into the Mother Lode — the Gold Rush country of the 1840s.
The signature sections, in order:
- Escarpment (mile 0-3.5): 2,550 ft of brutal climbing straight out of the gate to crest Emigrant Pass at 8,750 ft. This is where the legs feel fresh — or already trashed fifteen hours later.
- Lyon Ridge to Robinson Flat (mile 4-30): long ridge traverses through the high Sierra, still above 7,000 ft. This is where the field sorts itself out.
- The Canyons (mile 43-62): three back-to-back canyons — Deadwood, El Dorado, Volcano — with vertical drops followed by savage climbs. This is where it hits 110°F+ in the sun. Many favorites blow up right here.
- Devil's Thumb (mile 47.8): the mythic 1,500-ft climb in 1.5 miles, in 100°F+ heat, smack in the middle of the race.
- Foresthill (mile 62): the marquee aid station, the spot where pacers are picked up (they're allowed from here on), and the place where the small town's main street turns into a roaring corridor of cowbells.
- Cal Street (mile 62-78): the long, runnable descent toward the river — often decisive in the overall standings.
- Rucky Chucky River Crossing (mile 78): the iconic wade across the Middle Fork of the American River. Depending on the dam release, runners either ford the river on foot with a fixed safety line, or get ferried across by raft. The signature image of the race.
- Green Gate to Auburn Lake Trails (mile 78-94): a steep climb out of the river canyon, then rolling singletrack through oak woodland.
- No Hands Bridge (mile 96.8): a photogenic suspension bridge over the American River, just over three miles from the finish.
- Placer High School Track (mile 100.2): the final lap on the track in Auburn. The finish unfolds on red tartan under stadium lights when it's dark. The image every finisher carries home.
4. The heat: the invisible opponent
If one variable makes Western States harder than the elevation profile suggests, it's the heat. Temperatures in the canyons regularly hit 108-115°F in the afternoon. The race director can activate a mandatory "heat training requirement" beforehand if the forecast looks brutal: runners then have to document sauna sessions to be cleared to start.
Heat casualties — hyponatremia, heat stroke, rhabdomyolysis — are a real part of WSER folklore. That's why the race imposes three mandatory medical checkpoints with weigh-ins (Robinson Flat, Foresthill, Green Gate). Any weight loss greater than 7% is grounds for medical disqualification.
5. The buckles: a unique reward system
There's no traditional finisher's medal at Western States. Finishers receive a belt buckle engraved with their initials and bib number. Two tiers:
- Silver buckle: for runners who finish in under 24 hours. The holy grail for anyone with a competitive itch.
- Bronze buckle: for runners who finish in under 30 hours. Still a lifetime achievement.
For many American ultrarunners, the silver buckle remains the ultimate trophy — statistically harder to earn than a sub-3-hour marathon.
6. The lottery: the December ritual
Like Hardrock, Western States is a victim of its own success. The field is capped at ~380 starters. To get in, you need to:
- Finish one of the qualifying races recognized by WSER (more than 40 ultras worldwide, including UTMB, TDS, and several U.S. 100 milers).
- Enter the December lottery.
- Hear your name called during the live drawing in early December.
The system is cumulative: a runner not drawn one year doubles their tickets the next. After 6 or 7 years, some applicants finally get in "by perseverance." A first-time qualifier in 2026 has roughly a 2 to 4% chance of being drawn on their first try.
The elites bypass the lottery via the Golden Ticket: 4 spots for men and 4 for women awarded from the podiums of selected qualifying races (Bandera, Black Canyon, Canyons, Transgrancanaria…).
7. The legends
Jim Walmsley (USA)
The undisputed king of the race. Four wins (2018, 2019, 2021, 2022) and the overall course record of 14:09:28 set in 2019 — a time long considered untouchable. Walmsley redefined what was possible on this course.
Caleb Olson (USA)
In 2025, the new American prodigy came within a whisker of the record in 14:11:25 — the second-fastest time ever, less than two minutes off Walmsley.
Courtney Dauwalter (USA)
Three-time women's winner (2018, 2023, 2024), including her 2023 women's course record of 15:29, since broken.
Abby Hall (USA)
Winner in 2025, two years after a serious tibia fracture. The fourth-fastest women's time in race history. A comeback story that shook the community.
Katie Schide (USA/France)
Multiple top-5 and podium finisher, now a global reference at the 100-mile distance after her recent Hardrock course record.
The old guard
Tim Twietmeyer (five wins in the '90s), Ann Trason (an astonishing 14 women's victories!), Yiannis Kouros, Scott Jurek (seven straight wins from 1999 to 2005)…
8. Why is this race so special?
Western States isn't the hardest, the most scenic, or the highest. So why does it still dominate the imagination of the ultra community?
- The history: it's the first one. Everything starts here. Every other mountain 100 miler in the world — UTMB, Hardrock, Tor des Géants, Diagonale des Fous — descends in some way from WSER.
- The point-to-point format: a true journey. No loops, no out-and-backs, just a line drawn from the high country down to the foothills.
- The American fervor: pacers, crews, meticulously packed drop bags, the crowd at Foresthill, the stadium in Auburn. It's an intensely communal event, simultaneously ultra-grassroots and ultra-pro.
- The belt buckle: an object more powerful than a medal, because it's worn every day.
- The finish-line track: that last lap on the high school oval in Auburn, under the lights, with the announcer calling your name — one of the most powerful images in the sport.
9. How do you train for it?
A classic build for an amateur runner aiming to finish:
- Volume: 60-90 miles per week for 12 weeks
- Heat: 2-3 weeks of dedicated heat training (sauna or hot bath protocol) in the final three weeks
- Downhill: heavy doses of long downhill running — quads fail before calves in the canyons
- Mental: prep for long nighttime stretches after 24+ hours on your feet
- Logistics: a crew of 2-3 people, a qualified pacer from Foresthill on, and tightly dialed drop bags
- Altitude: marginal acclimation needed (most of the course sits between 1,000 and 4,000 ft after Robinson Flat)
The classic mistake: going out too hot in the Sierra, arriving "fresh" at Robinson Flat, and detonating in the canyons under midday sun. Every experienced finisher says the same thing: the race begins at Foresthill (mile 62), not at the start line.
Conclusion
Western States is the DNA of modern trail running. A race born from a lame horse and a man who refused to quit, grown 50 years later into the global benchmark of the 100-mile distance. A race where you wade across a river, where you cross a suspension bridge at dawn, and where you finish on a high school track under floodlights and applause.
If Hardrock 100 embodies the refusal of commercialization, Western States embodies something else: memory. The race that started it all. The one every other race still looks back to.
"It will change your life." — Heard at every pre-race briefing.