Zach Bates waited quietly in the morning twilight, outfitted in some of the gear he would need to cover 250 miles: fabric guards to keep the dust out of his shoes, a face covering, sunglasses, a hydration pack and water bottles, hiking poles and a green hat with a neck flap to block the sun. The race, just moments away, would be the hardest thing he had ever taken on.

“Cocodona 250,” said the banner at the starting line. “Adventure awaits.”

The course was well-marked, and Zach, 22, had a digital tracking device. But Zach’s mother, Rana, was worried. Her son has autism and is prone to losing his way. The rules prevented him from using an official pace runner during the first 78 miles of the race, so Rana had found another competitor who was willing to run alongside Zach informally.

But now she couldn’t find him.

Rana stood on her tiptoes, searching for the runner in a sea of 278 participants. She had meticulously planned every mile of Zach’s race, and, as the clock ticked down to the 5 a.m. start, her voice revealed her agitation.

The other runner, she said, “was supposed to meet Zach at the starting line — that was the plan.”

Then the gun went off, and Zach disappeared into the swell of competitors, jogging up a steep canyon of rocky switchbacks toward Flagstaff and a future full of questions.

Testing His Independence

The Cocodona 250, held every May in Arizona, would be daunting for anyone, given the punishing distance and the stress of running on a rugged trail day and night. But it was a particularly tough test for Zach, whose autism gives him fierce concentration and determination, but also comes with limitations, like difficulty multitasking, communicating his needs and socializing.