03/01/2026
Yesterday we hosted the 7th Annual World’s Only Mad Trapper Snowshoe Backyard Ultra.
I love these races. There’s just something about the format that brings out raw humanity. No medals for second. No finish line tape. Just one more lap. And then another. Until there’s only one person left standing.
Right from the start, there was a moment that grabbed me.
We had a 14-year-old kid show up to run his first snowshoe race ever. And not a 5K. Not a 10K. A backyard ultra.
He didn’t even own snowshoes. I lent him a pair.
He made a rookie footwear mistake and ended up with a blister that forced him to tap out earlier than he wanted. But here’s the part I loved: he wasn’t discouraged. He was lit up. He told me he’s already planning to come back for our summer backyard ultra.
That’s the spirit of this format. It doesn’t just test you. It hooks you.
This year couldn’t have been more different than last. Last year we had a blizzard the night before and during the race. The trail almost disappeared after every lap. It was survival mode. With Guy Doiron only needing 7 yards to win.
This year? Sunshine and 3–4°C.
I was nervous the warmth would turn the trail to slush and make it miserable. Instead, the opposite happened. The course packed down. Hardened up. Each lap actually got faster and easier. It was one of those rare days where nature cooperated perfectly.
Setting the course is always tricky for me. I’m trying to create something hard enough to challenge the stronger athletes, but still doable for the weekend warriors who just want to see what they’re made of.
We've just got so many hills here and the snow is always unpredictable. This year's Full Loop was 5.5k and the Krisi Loop was just over 5.
But early on, I wondered if I’d made it too easy?
Hugo Duguay-Boucher was cruising in at 41 minutes a lap. Every lap. He’d walk through the door smiling, bouncing, telling me how fast and easy the course was.
At the 10 yard point, he said he had at least eight more laps in him!
I started mentally preparing for a very long night.
But when I look at the results now, I know the course was right. We had 15 starters. Eight of them stopped at five laps or fewer. That tells me it was challenging enough.
In the later hours, six remained: Brian Caire, Chin Chin Wang, Hugo, Julian Lopez, Tim Smith, and Max Hardy.
Most of the spectators had their money on Hugo. But Tim had won the last two summer backyard ultras, so you couldn’t count him out. And Julian is always a dark horse. Chin-Chin was smiling and steady all day. Max was quiet and dangerous.
Brian was actually the guy the ultimate winner (no spoiler here....) was most worried about. When Brian bowed out after 10 yards, it was because he had gone 3x as far as he'd planned and he had responsibilities he needed to attend to. His body and mind still had more yards in them. I think he'll be back to play for real next year.
Around 9 or 10 laps, Julian made the switch to the "Kristi Loop” as the miles started to bite into his legs. Plus he had to work the next day. Reality sometimes wins.
At 11 laps, Hugo still looked unstoppable.
Then lap 12 happened.
For the first time all day, Tim came through the door first. That surprised everyone. We asked if he’d seen Hugo.
“Yeah,” he said. “He’s on his knees. Max is with him.”
Chin-Chin came in next and confirmed it. Hugo was down but close.
Chin-Chin looked strong the entire race. But after her watched died, she didn't like the idea of running "blind", not knowing how far she'd gone, had to go, or how much time remained, so she bowed out due to a technical malfunction.
At 52 minutes, both Max and Hugo made it back. Hugo declared he had lost his will to live and was done. He said he’d been down on one knee in the snow and all he wanted to do was lie down and sleep. He didn’t trust himself to head back out safely.
That’s backyard ultras in a nutshell. When the wheels come off, they don’t wobble. They fall off hard and fast.
Hugo had played it like a pro all day. No weakness. All confidence. Maybe even hoping to plant doubt in the others. But mental games only go so far when your body has other plans.
When he came in on his final lap he literally said "I got punched in the face". Which is one of my favourite quotes of all time, from Mike Tyson "Everyone has a plan until they get punched in the face..."
That left only Tim and Max.
They both headed out on cue.
We all settled in to wait.
Thirty seconds later, Tim walked back through the door.
He’d already decided on the previous lap that he was done. He’d been getting cold. And that’s the hidden challenge of a winter backyard ultra. It’s not just physical. It’s not just mental. It’s environmental. When it’s -7°C with wind, and you’re soaked in sweat, your body struggles to stay warm. Cold drains resolve faster than hills ever could.
So Max went out alone.
One more lap. Solo. Clock ticking.
He came back in 35 minutes. A course record for the day. He looked like he had plenty left in the tank and probably could’ve gone on for hours.
And that’s the magic of this format. You never really know.
At every BYU I've hosted I've had a favorite. Someone who looks untouchable early on. And almost every year, when they break, they break fast. Backyard ultras don’t reward swagger. They reward patience, awareness, and timing.
The racers who stopped at four and five laps? Every single one of them told me they’re coming back next year with a goal of just one more lap.
That’s how it starts.
And I expect we’ll see most of this crew again on June 20th for the traditional Mad Trapper Backyard Ultra.
Because once you’ve felt it, you want to know.
How far can I go?
Because in the immortal words of Lazarus Lake — you don’t know how far you can go… until you’ve gone as far as you can.
