CATTLE TRAILS AND COLD: THE HISTORY OF THE DRIFT 100

Before the Starting Line, There Was a Cattle Drive

Every March, a handful of skiers, bikers, and runners line up at the edge of Kendall Valley in western Wyoming. They are about to spend the next two days crossing 103 miles of snow-covered wilderness in the Wind River Mountains, at altitudes that brush 10,000 feet, in temperatures that can plunge to 30 below zero. No pacers. No cell service. Four aid stations across the entire course.

This is The Drift. And the story of how it got here starts not with running shoes or fat bikes, but with cattle.

The Green River Drift: America's Oldest Cattle Drive

The race takes its name from the Green River Drift, the longest continuously operating cattle drive in the United States. The main trail stretches 58 miles through Sublette County with another 41 miles of spurs, and ranchers have been moving herds along it since before anyone alive today was born.

The practice took root after the catastrophic "Equalizer Winter" of 1889-1890, when roughly 90% of cattle in the Upper Green River Valley froze or starved to death. That disaster forced ranchers to rethink everything. In the years that followed, local cattlemen began coordinating seasonal grazing, and the Drift became the mechanism for getting cattle from low-elevation BLM land in the south to Forest Service allotments in the north each spring. The Upper Green River Cattle Association eventually formalized this effort, pooling resources to manage Bridger-Teton grazing allotments.

Albert Sommers, whose grandfather arrived in Wyoming as a schoolteacher and helped establish the springtime ritual around 1896, is among the most visible figures still carrying on the tradition. His family's involvement was featured on CBS's 60 Minutes in October 2021, when correspondent Bill Whitaker rode alongside the herd. Today, 11 ranches under the association move more than 7,000 head of cattle along the trail each year.

In November 2013, the Green River Drift Trail was listed on the National Register of Historic Places as a Traditional Cultural Property. It was the first ranching-related TCP in the nation, and the first to recognize a traditional culture rooted in shared occupation rather than ethnicity or religious belief.

The race follows many of these same trails. When athletes push through deep snow at mile 50, they are traveling ground that cattle have walked for over 130 years.

How The Drift Was Born

Keri Hull and her husband Darren Hull had competed in winter endurance events while living in Alaska. When they relocated to Pinedale, Wyoming, they saw the potential in combining the remote terrain and harsh winter conditions of the Wind River Range with the kind of multi-discipline format they loved.

Along with friends Josh and Laura Hattan, they created The Drift, originally a 28-mile challenge along the cattle drive route. The concept was straightforward: pick your discipline (ski, bike, or run), get to the finish before the mountain finishes you.

The 103-mile distance debuted in 2020, with a figure-8 course that starts at the Upper Green River parking area just past the Forest boundary. The route heads north on the Continental Divide Trail, crosses Kendall Bridge, climbs toward Bacon Ridge, winds along the Green River up to Union Pass, loops around Forest Service roads between Union Pass and Dubois, then returns to Kendall Valley Lodge. Total elevation gain sits around 9,000 feet, with the high point reaching 9,840 feet.

All of it is on snow. All of it is on snowmobile trails. And all of it is authorized under a Special Use Permit with the Bridger-Teton and Shoshone National Forests.

The Rules of Self-Sufficiency

The Drift is not a race that coddles its participants. The 103-mile field is capped at 70 athletes, and everyone must qualify by proving they can handle the conditions. Previous completion of a comparable winter ultra (Arrowhead 135, White Mountains 100, Iditarod Trail Invitational, Susitna 100, or similar) is the standard.

Once on course, you are on your own. No drop bags. No pacers. No personal snow machines. Having someone follow you or provide outside assistance means disqualification. There are four heated, manned aid stations at approximately miles 25, 50, 67, and 83, offering water, hot drinks, and basic food. Beyond that, you carry what you need.

Every racer wears a tracking device so the crew on snowmobiles can monitor positions for rescue if needed. The cutoff is 48 hours, though the race has extended it when conditions demand, as they did in 2023. If you miss an aid station cutoff, you get snowmachined off the course and billed $200 for the ride.

Athletes declare a single discipline before the start: ski, fat bike, or foot. Once committed, they cannot switch. The race begins at 9 AM, and what happens next depends heavily on what the Wind River Range decides to throw at them.

Five Years of Pain and History

2020 marked the first 103-mile edition. Justin Kinner won the overall on foot in 29 hours 36 minutes, establishing the men's running course record. The race was small, raw, and very much a proof of concept.

2021 pushed the limits of what athletes could endure. Night-one temperatures dropped to nearly negative 30 degrees Fahrenheit. Ginny Robbins set the women's running course record at 30 hours 43 minutes, a performance that signaled the depth of talent The Drift was starting to attract.

2022 tested the field again, with 21 of 47 starters reaching the finish line in brutal conditions. Temperatures plunged to around negative 20 on the final stretch. Six bikers, two skiers, and three runners were among the finishers.

Then came 2023, the year that broke the field.

A massive storm rolled through the Wind Rivers during the race, dumping feet of fresh snow with 40 mph winds. Visibility dropped to nothing. Drifts swallowed athletes up to their hips. Wolves made an appearance, which the race website notes "usually happens at some point." Of the 49 starters, only 11 finished. A 22% completion rate. The cutoff was extended by eight hours just to give finishers a chance.

Seth Harney of Colorado won on a fat bike in 31 hours 24 minutes. The top runner, Ryan Bridger from West Palm Beach, Florida, finished in 51 hours 48 minutes. Pam Reed of Jackson, Wyoming, took the women's running title in 52 hours 55 minutes. Race director Keri Hull noted afterward that the low finish rate "represents good decision making" by athletes who recognized when to stop.

2024 rewrote the record books. Fifty-two athletes from 24 states started. Thirty-five finished. And the overall winner was Shalane Frost, a 35-year-old skier from Fairbanks, Alaska, who crossed the line in 23:21:36. She was the first woman and the first skier to ever win the overall title, breaking a streak of male bikers that had defined every previous edition. In 2025, Cynthia Dywan claimed the women's title in 41:28:53 — a time that reflects how sharply conditions can swing between editions.

Behind her, 14-year-old Edyn Teitge of Hailey, Idaho finished second overall on a fat bike in 23:55, becoming the youngest racer to ever complete The Drift. Teitge would go on to become the youngest solo Tour Divide finisher at age 15.

And then there was Ginny Robbins, who finished third overall while earning the women's bike title. With that finish, she became the first and only person to complete The Drift in all three disciplines and win first place in each one. Foot, ski, and bike. Three for three.

What Makes The Drift Different

There are plenty of 100-mile races in the world. There are winter ultras. There are multi-discipline events. The Drift sits at the intersection of all three, and it does so in one of the most remote and unforgiving environments in the Lower 48.

The Wind River Range is home to grizzly bears, black bears, moose, elk, mountain lions, wolves, and coyotes. The nearest town with real services is Pinedale, about 25 miles from the start. Cell service does not exist on course. Weather can shift from clear skies to full whiteout conditions within an hour.

But the thing that separates The Drift from other winter ultras is not just the difficulty. It is the cultural thread. The cattle drive that gives the race its name has been running for over a century, and the trail system that supports both the race and the ranches exists because generations of Wyoming families have maintained it. When you race The Drift, you are not just completing an endurance challenge. You are traveling through a working landscape with deep roots.

The field is small enough that racers know each other. The cap of 70 keeps the event intimate. And the self-sufficiency requirement filters out anyone who is not genuinely prepared for what the mountains might deliver.

Looking Ahead: 2026 and Beyond

The 2026 edition, scheduled for March 13, faces new challenges. The Dollar Lake Fire burned through portions of the northern course, creating hazards from standing dead timber that could fall in high winds. Aid station 1 has been moved to mile 6 as a result, and further course adjustments are possible. See how those modifications played out in the full 2026 race recap.

Registration was also complicated by the government shutdown, since the race operates on federal land under Forest Service permits. These are the kinds of logistical realities that come with staging an event in genuine backcountry, on public land, in the middle of winter.

But The Drift has survived negative 30 degree nights, 22% finish rates, and wolves on the course. A fire scar and some bureaucratic delays are not going to stop what Keri and Darren Hull started in the shadow of the Wind Rivers.

The cattle will drift north again this spring. And for the sixth year, so will the racers.