100 Years of the Dipsea

(This article by Barry Spitz first appeared in the Spring 2010 Mill Valley Historical Society "Review")

The 100th Dipsea: What Has Changed, What Hasn’t

The 100th running of Mill Valley’s iconic Dipsea Race takes place this June 13. Fifteen hundred runners, from among thousands of applicants, will gather in Lytton Square. Beginning at 8:30 a.m., they’ll begin departing, in 52 different handicapped start groups that are each one minute apart. The first runner to the finish line in Stinson Beach, seven extremely testing miles away, will be the Centennial champion and earn a special place in the Race’s storied history.

Looking back at what has changed, and what hasn’t, over those 100 runnings, reveals elements of both. (Note that the first Dipsea was actually in 1905. Because races were missed in 1932-33, than again in 1942-45, when much of Mt. Tamalpais was closed by the military, 2010 marks the Centennial.)

Perhaps the biggest change is in the entrants’ age and gender. In 1905, all 75 runners were men, and young. The handful over 40 were singled out as “oldsters” and “marvels” in contemporary accounts. Today, men over 40 outnumber those younger. The last 16 male winners have all been older than 40, the last ten over 50, an over-70 won twice. A runner in his 20s hasn’t won since 1966. The very young have also come to the fore: five Dipsea Races have been won by pre-teens. And there are far more runners now (although fewer than in 1976, the last year before a ceiling was placed on entries), and much harder to gain a place.

In just as dramatic a shift, women, long barred from the Dipsea due to a national rule against their participation in long distances race, now make up nearly a quarter of the field. They have won the Race outright 17 times in the 39 years since the ban was finally lifted, in 1971. But the Dipsea has actually long had a special place for women. From 1918 through 1922, five pioneering separate “Women’s Dipsea Hikes,” called “Hikes” only to evade the ban, were staged and vastly outdrew the “men’s” race each year.

In 1905, save for the short stretch within Mill Valley, all the Race was over private property. Even Muir Woods National Monument, the first public land on Mt. Tamalpais, was three years from dedication. Much of the route was across pasture land, and runners had to pass through at least 15 fence stiles. Today, all of the course has passed into public hands.

Other elements of the route have remained remarkably the same. The landmark features--the Mill Valley steps, the crossing of Redwood Creek, the high point of Cardiac, the Lone Tree (although no longer alone)—are all still there. The 2,300 feet each of total uphill and downhill is unchanged. A runner from 1905 would likely still be able to make his way.

But there are changes. The Mill Valley steps are rebuilt, and there are more of them, plus hundreds of additional steps cut into Steep Ravine. Coyote bush and Douglas-fir trees now cover much of the formerly grazed grasslands. The finish line has been moved from Highway 1 to the Stinson Beach parking lot.

But the biggest course change involves route restrictions, first placed in 1977 and mounting ever since. For its first 72 years, the Dipsea had an “open” course, runners free to take whatever shortcut they could find. But as the Race got larger, public land managers began demanding protection for environmentally sensitive stretches. Today, the Dipsea course is technically still “open,” but essentially in name only.

The Race’s unique handicap, or head start, system had been continuously tweaked since 1905, and monumentally overhauled in 1965. Before 1965, runners were individually assigned head starts based on a handicapper’s knowledge of their talent. After 1965, as the field mushroomed with new runners, head starts were based strictly on age (and, after women were admitted, on gender). The change was enormous. Prior, every single entrant thought that, if they ran exceptionally well, they had a chance of winning. After 1965, only a handful of entrants, the very best in their age/gender category, had any shot of breaking the tape.

One thing that has remained constant, and, to many, refreshing, is the Race’s amateurism. No prize money has ever been awarded, just trophies. All the workers were, and still are, volunteers. There have never been corporate sponsor logos prominently, or barely even subtly, displayed. But money has become a factor. For decades, the annual Race budget was under $1,000 (often well under), with no entry fee. Now runners pay $50 or more each, and yearly expenditures are near the six-figure range.

There are other changes, and constants. In the 1970s, to alleviate fire season fears, the Race date was moved from late summer to early June. Scoring of the Race has gone high tech, with runners now wearing computer chips on their shoes for instant results. Radio, in its infancy in the Race’s early years, is still used for emergency communications. Poison-oak remains, as always, a menace. And every racer still arrives at Stinson Beach utterly exhausted, and, except for those in the medical tent, proud and happy.