Longs Peak

At 14,259’, Longs Peak (for more info from SummitPost.org, Wikipedia, NPS, or RockyMountainNews) is the 15th highest 14er in the state of Colorado (of 54 such peaks). It’s the highest point in the Rocky Mountain National Park and the northernmost 14er in the Rocky Mountains in the state of Colorado (and the only 14er north of I-70).

Longs Peak can easily be spotted from Estes Park and even Boulder (30 miles south). The peak is named after Major Stephen Long who explored the area in the 1820s. The first recorded summit of the peak was the surveying party of John Wesley Powell in 1868. Longs Peak is also the peak depicted on the 2006 Colorado state quarter.

Summiting Longs Peak is never a sure thing. There are quite a few variables that can thwart the best attempts at the peak…

• Weather: summer afternoon thunderstorms are a regular occurrence in the Colorado high country. Many of the deaths on Longs Peak have been due to lightning strikes. It’s best to be off the exposed high places by early in the afternoon.
• Snow and Ice: the presence of snow and ice on the narrow passages on the west and south sides of the mountain make even the Keyhole Route to be a technical climb requiring crampons and ice axe until mid-July.
• Crowds: since the Keyhole Route is the most popular hike of any Colorado 14er, in the summertime this peak can be overcrowded with people... sometimes as many as 100 at a time on the peak at once. The NPS estimates that 15,000 climb Longs Peak each year, most between mid-July and late-September. This creates long lines cueing up to go single file through the treacherous narrow passages ascending and descending. The crowds can also make securing a campsite quite difficult in the Boulderfield or anywhere near the TH (important for an early start).

Since the 1800s, there have been 55 recorded deaths on Longs Peak from such things as lightning, hypothermia, and falls due to winds, ice, and rocks breaking loose.

Longs Peak has been high on my to-do list for at least five years. Every time I visit Colorado, I’ve dreamed about summiting this mountain, but the timing and conditions have not been right… until yesterday, Friday the 13th of all days.

The Keyhole Route

The Keyhole Route is the “easiest” route to Longs Peak, but it is far from easy. It is not simply a hike but a strenuous trek across 7.5 miles of rough terrain and up 4800’ in elevation. The first 5.9 miles are a class-1 hike from 9400’ at the TH to 12,750’ at the “Boulderfield.” The Boulderfield ascends upward until you reach a notch in the mountain appropriately called “the Keyhole” at 13,150’. At the Keyhole, the route becomes a class-3 climb across narrow passages and up steep ravines for the last 1.3 miles of the trek.

The Keyhole provides access between the east and west sides of the mountain and the first sights of Glacier Gorge thousands of feet below. From the Keyhole to the summit, the route is marked with a series of red and yellow bull’s eyes painted on the rocks. From the Keyhole, the route traverses horizontally across a series of narrow ledges for roughly 500 yards until you come to “the Trough.”

The Trough (up and down) is a long, steep couloir which ascends skyward to 13,850’. At the top of the Trough, climbers have to carefully maneuver around a large impeding boulder to come around to the south side of the mountain and in view of the valley thousands of feet below.

The route then traverses across an exposed ledge appropriately called “the Narrows.” After the Narrows, the climb ascends sharply upward for 300’ in a couloir called “the Homestretch.” At the top of the Homestretch, you climb over a rock and surprisingly are suddenly in full view of the relatively flat summit for the first time.

My Ascent of Longs Peak

I arrived at the campground at the TH late on Thursday afternoon and was surprised to find plenty of campsites still available. I have to thank the NPS for this. They had a warning posted stating that Longs Peak was still a technical climb requiring crampons and ice axe due to snow and ice. But I knew from recent online reports and talking with hikers in the campground that snow and ice were not a problem on the Keyhole Route. Thanks to the NPS warning, I wouldn’t have to battle the crowds going to the top.

I wasn’t sure how long it would take me to summit this mountain, but I definitely wanted to be back below treeline before afternoon thunderstorms rolled in. So I decided to start out early.

I was on the trail at 4:45am with headlamp on. I passed individuals and groups who had started out earlier as I power-hiked upward through the trees and through the barren rocks above treeline. The sunrise to the east was gorgeous. Soon I found myself at the unmistakable place called the Boulderfield. I quickly hopped across the rocks and was at the Keyhole at 7:00am. Then I got scared. You have to understand that I’m a hiker, not a climber.

As I peered through the Keyhole, before me for the first time I saw the beginning of the narrow ledges I had read about. Underneath me was the beautiful Glacier Gorge dotted with mountain lakes thousands of feet below. A female climber who looked like she knew what she was doing (at least she had a rock climber’s helmet on) was the only person on the route ahead of me.

So I gritted my teeth and started off after her. I was thinking it would be wise to follow someone who knew what they were doing (or at least looked like she knew what she was doing). I told myself, just don’t look down (and I didn’t). But soon, my female climbing guide stopped and I ended up catching up to her and I had to pass her. I had no plans to spend any extra time taking breaks on this treacherous part of the climb. I wanted to get to the summit as soon as possible.

The farther I went, the more I became comfortable with the idea of traversing across narrow ledges with such high-altitude exposure below... but not comfortable enough to rid myself of white knuckles, gasping short breaths, twitching muscles, and a fear of looking down. I wish I could post some personal pictures of this experience, but I didn’t want to take my hands off the rocks long enough to fumble around in my backpack for my camera.

At “the Trough,” the route turned sharply skyward and became a bona fide climb. It was super-steep and seemed to go on forever. I kept telling myself... just make it to the next bull’s eye, just make it to the next bull’s eye. At many points, the route was so steep that I had to use all 4s to gradually pull myself up the route. Of course, since this was at over 13,000' the thin air doesn't help matters much.

I came upon a boulder that was particular tricky because there was barely enough space for a single individual to get around it with the added anxiousness of lots of exposure on these ledges. Slowly I eased myself around the massive rock.

As I came around this bend, two people who were descending told me that I was now in the Homestretch. Even though that's the actual name for this section, I think it’s a misnomer. What I didn't realize until then is that most of the Homestretch ascends steeply skyward also. It was an exhausting climb through this section, but I made good progress.

Then I came to a notch at the top and pulled myself up, and surprise, surprise, I was on top... the summit at last! Woo hoo! Mission accomplished. My 7th Colorado 14er! (except about an hour later I suddenly realized... uh oh, I’ve still gotta go back down!)

The summit surprised me because there was no indication it was just over the next rock. I strolled around on top and found the actual highpoint and about seven different geodeitic markers on various rocks.

I spent about an hour on top. I signed the log book and took some pictures. I ate my PB&J sandwiches for lunch, even though it was barely 8:30am... I went up a whole lot faster than I expected. I watched a marmot play in the distance. Then I took a nice nap... there's no better place on earth to take a nap than on a hard-earned mountain peak.

At first, there were only 3 of us on the peak. I was the 5th person up that Friday. Eventually, there were 5 of us which made a nice-sized gathering. The top of this peak was really odd. Basically, it was a remarkably level boulder field, but about the size of a football field. The weather could not have been more perfect... sunny, no clouds, 50s and virtually calm with no wind.

I knew more people would be coming up the narrows, the trough, the ledges, the homestretch, and all kinds of other places that I had other (unpostable) names for. I wanted to get down before meeting too many of them face to face in those places. I didn’t want to be anti-social, but those aren’t exactly the best places for a friendly get-together.

I looked around and suddenly wondered, how did I get up here? All the edges of the summit looked the same. Fortunately, I found that the NPS had posted a red sign for rubes like me who didn’t think ahead to remember where you came up. The sign indicated the proper place to begin the descent down the Homestretch.

So I started down. The descent was as treacherous for me as the ascent and took me nearly as long (at least to the Boulderfield). Now I had the extra bonus of seeing below all the places to which I could fall. Somehow I managed not to wear out the seat of my pants as I slowly slid down the rocks... but I now understood why those rocks were so slick.

When I got to the Keyhole, the winds had picked up. I was very glad that I gotten up and down the peak early in the day before I encountered any friendly breezes. I don’t think I would like to attempt this mountain in anything but perfect weather. Come to think of it, I’m not sure I’d like to attempt this mountain again in any weather.

After the Keyhole and the Boulderfield, it was soooo good to get back to the main trail on terra firma. I descended down the trail quite rapidly. At 12:45pm I was back at my car. Covering 15 miles and 4800’ of elevation gain going to/from Longs Peak was a wonderful way to spend 8 hours on a Friday.

Conclusion

On this trip to Colorado, Longs Peak wasn’t even on my agenda. But the timing and conditions worked out perfectly and I was finally able to conquer this monolith. Just 6 days earlier, I missed out on running the Leadville Trail Marathon due to a groin injury. Longs Peak was certainly a very nice consolation prize.

I can actually say that Longs Peak is the first 14er I've ever climbed (not hiked). It was definitely a climb. My arms were sore afterward. A class-3 climb with lots of exposure is not exactly my cup of tea, but I did it.

As I drove back through the RMNP to return to my family on the western side of the continental divide, I couldn't keep my eyes off of Longs Peak in the distance. It was surreal to think that I had just been up there.

Boston Marathon: A Weekend Awash

Preview:

Understand that I have wanted to run the Boston Marathon for over 10 years. It took me a long time to qualify. I got a BQ ("Boston qualifier") in October 2005 but missed it last year due to an injury (despite having a bib, plane tix, and a place to stay). I wanted to do well this year at Boston since this is the one and only time I planned to run this race. I’ve never trained harder or run more miles preparing for a marathon. It was not unreasonable to expect a good PR ("personal record").

My splits: (mile, mile split, overall time, overall pace)
Mile 01, 7:20 (7:20, 7:20 pace)
Mile 02, 7:06 (14:26, 7:13 pace)
Mile 03, 7:11 (21:37, 7:12 pace)
Mile 04, 6:57 (28:34, 7:09 pace)
Mile 05, 7:14 (35:48, 7:10 pace)
Mile 06, 7:09 (42:57, 7:10 pace)
Mile 07, 7:10 (50:07, 7:10 pace)
Mile 08, 7:14 (57:21, 7:10 pace)
Mile 09, 7:18 (1:04:39, 7:11 pace)
Mile 10, 7:21 (1:12:00, 7:12 pace)
Mile 11, 7:18 (1:19:18, 7:13 pace)
Mile 12, 7:08 (1:26:26, 7:12 pace)
Mile 13, 7:19 (1:33:45, 7:13 pace)
Half = 1:34:32 (7:13 pace)
Mile 14, 7:16 (1:41:01, 7:13 pace)
Mile 15, 7:21 (1:48:22, 7:13 pace)
Mile 16, 7:13 (1:55:35, 7:13 pace)
Mile 17, 7:48 (2:03:23, 7:15 pace, Newton Hills)
Mile 18, 7:40 (2:11:03, 7:17 pace, Newton Hills)
Mile 19, 7:31 (2:18:34, 7:18 pace, Newton Hills)
Mile 20, 7:42 (2:26:16, 7:19 pace, Newton Hills)
Mile 21, 8:09 (2:34:25, 7:21 pace, Newton Hills)
Mile 22, 7:28 (2:41:53, 7:21 pace)
Mile 23, 7:50 (2:49:43, 7:23 pace, starting to fade some, realized I should’ve taken Gu earlier)
Mile 24, 7:49 (2:57:32, 7:24 pace)
Mile 25, 8:03 (3:05:35, 7:25 pace)
Finish = 3:14:56 (last 1.2 miles at 7:40 pace; 7:26 pace overall)

I finished #2,562nd out of 20,348 runners.

My Disappointments:

• Three recent races (10K, 15K, half) indicated I should have been able to run 2:55, but on Monday I barely managed to run 3:14.

• I didn’t run a single mile at or under 6:52, my goal MP ("marathon pace"). Only 1 mile did I manage to run sub-7:00. I was never able to get into the proper MP groove.

• On Monday, I hit the 24 MM in 2:57:32. My last long run 3 weeks before Boston was 24 miles in 2:55:55 (in the wind) so I didn’t even run 24 miles at Boston as well as I did 3 weeks prior on a training run (despite having tapered for the marathon).

• I averaged running over 85 miles-per-week (over 12 miles per day) since January 1 (3x with 100+ miles in a week; lowest week was 70mpw) and yet I couldn’t beat my PR (3:11:50) from 2005 when I averaged about 40-50mpw.

• Since December, I ran 15 runs that were 20+ miles (4 of the last 5 were 24 miles each) to make sure I'd be strong to the end of the marathon, and yet my splits faded some in the last 3 miles.

Why my demise?

• Never do anything new on marathon day… but I had to… run in the rain. I hadn’t run in the rain in years. I didn’t know how to prepare (even as late as 20min before the race). The anticipation of bad weather ruined me more than the weather itself. I ended up being overdressed. I was wearing rain pants and a rain jacket over running shorts and a shirt. Within 2 miles I had already peeled my jacket and tied it around my waste and was running in the cold rain with only short-sleeves (and wishing to take off the rain pants). But I kept those clothes that way because I knew we could hit a serious downpour and cold winds later. I was definitely overdressed. I wish I had run only in a running shorts, shirt, gloves, and a hat. But I didn’t know. I regretted my clothing decision for 26 miles. Most everyone in the corrals up front only wore shorts and going further back more and more people were bundled up. If you want to run fast, you just gotta risk being cold. You just gotta trust that your body will generate enough heat to keep you warm. But I was completely unprepared how to deal with the weather. (BTW, I had checked the weather for the last time at 5:30am on Monday and weather.com and noaa.org both said 33mph headwinds and rain… that also scared me to overdress.)

• The weather was bad (40s, constant headwind, rainy... all part of a Nor'easter), but it could have been worse. The men’s and women’s winning times were the slowest in 22 years (since 1985). Robert Cheruiyot won this year in 2:14 but he had won last year in 2:07 in good weather. Virtually all of the elite runners ran at least 7 minutes slower than their potential. I met few runners who achieved their marathon goals on Monday (not their adjusted weather-related goals, but their original goals).

• Maybe I was too fearful of having to walk some on the course whether in the Newton Hills or at the end… and I just didn’t want to do that at Boston (maybe at other marathons, but not at Boston).

• Questions about my training: maybe I over-emphasized mile repeats that prepared me better for shorter distances but not the marathon? Maybe I didn’t do enough steady-paced MP runs and/or progressive long runs? Maybe I tapered too much and peaked too early in my training? I dunno.

• Boston isn’t an easy course (despite the misleading neg elevation loss). It’s tough to run a PR at Boston, even if you’re marathon PR is soft.

I shouldn’t be too surprised by my experience in Boston…

• I’ve had great weather for all my races for 2 years now (no exaggeration)… until Boston. My last bad weather races I can remember were in Feb-March 2005.

• I kept over-exceeding my expectations in races throughout the winter… but you can’t do that forever… and I knew that. That’s why I had often said, I’d trade all my winter PR’s for a big PR at Boston. A marathon PR is the toughest one to get.

High points of my trip to Boston:

• Catching up with so many of my friends from the online RT marathon forum. Marathoners are great people. Honestly, I was very discouraged about the weather until I caught up with some of them. We shared some good times and laughs together this weekend. Having dinner with Bret and Eduardo on Sunday night was great.

• Meeting Dick Hoyt and getting my picture made with him. For 25 years, Dick Hoyt has pushed his son (Rick) who has cerebral palsy in a wheelchair in the Boston Marathon. This was the first year in 25 years that he didn’t do so (only because Rick had just had surgery). I didn’t know Dick Hoyt would be there. When I saw him in person, I quickly realized I had no reason to wallow in self-pity about the weather for my race. What a guy and what an inspiration.

• Meeting Bill Rodgers and having my picture made with him. “Boston Billy” won the Boston Marathon 4 times (1975, 1978-80) and the NYC Marathon 4 times (1976-79) in the height of the running boom.

• The whole experience of running this legendary course. Even though I was running slower than I expected, I couldn’t help but absorb all the sights and sounds of one of the most famous places in the world for runners.

• Beating a guy dressed as a dairy cow. Hey, you gotta have a few minor victories on a disappointing day. Actually, dairy-cow guy is pictured in the results in the Boston Herald. I passed him and beat him by 6 minutes. I also beat the Easter bunny.

• Topping Heartbreak Hill at mile 21 and finishing on Boylston Street. When I reached the top of Heartbreak Hill fairly strongly (passing quite a few people even though my paces slowed some), I was whooping my arm in the air and urging the crowds to cheer us on. I did the same thing all the way down Boylston Street. What an experience!

Low-points of my trip to Boston:

• Obviously I came home with a lot of unmet expectations of the marathon itself.

• I was thrilled that my Anaheim Angels were playing at Fenway for the weekend and had a ticket to Sunday’s game. But Sunday’s game was the only one that was rained out so I didn’t get to go to Fenway. And my Angels got swept by the Red Sox in all three games (by a combined score of 25-3… ouch).

• I tried to go to Concord to see Walden Pond on Tuesday. I had reread Thoreau’s book on the plane. I really wanted to go there for some quiet reflection at the end of the weekend. When I got to Concord by train on Tuesday, it was about a mile walk to Walden Pond. But it was raining (and snowing!) so much that I was drenched within ¼ mile (and I had to fly home in those clothes) so I turned around and didn’t make it there. I did spot it from the train on the way back because I remembered Thoreau mentioning the train in the book.

What I learned…

• Not all marathon courses are created equal. The Newton Hills (miles 16-21) are not the only hills on the course at Boston.

• I admire anyone who has PR’ed at Boston. I don’t care if you ran Boston in good weather and your previous PR was soft. I admire anyone who has PR’ed at Boston.

• Marathoning is an outdoor sport. Sometimes the weather just doesn't cooperate.

• I don’t like running in the rain.

• Never ever wear rain pants in a race.

• I greatly admire those that run and train in New England in the winter. I’ve never been happier to return to sunny California.

• There are no guarantees for a good marathon… no matter how hard you have trained or how fast you have raced.

• Sometimes it’s quite an accomplishment just to cross a marathon finish line without having walked, regardless of your time goal or how hard you have trained.

• I don’t like the hassle of big-city marathons. I don’t like sitting in a crowded rain-soaked tent for 2 hours before the start. I don’t like standing in the wind in wet clothes afterward waiting for 10 minutes to retrieve my dry clothes from a school bus. I really prefer the small-town simpler marathons.

• I greatly admire race volunteers,… and even more so on rainy days.

• I greatly admire people who come out to cheer on us runners who aren’t anywhere near the front,... and even more so on rainy days.

• I do not regret any of the miles I ran training for the Boston Marathon.

• Hot coffee tastes really good after a cold race… so does pizza, orange juice, and most anything else I could get my hands on.

• The Boston fire marshal obviously has never visited the marathon expo.

• Staying in a hostel in downtown Boston was the best lodging decision I have made in years. The place was filled with other runners and we all enjoyed each others’ company.

• Running under a TV camera at the start line in Hopkinton and knowing that your wife and kids are at home looking for you and cheering for you… that’s enough to make a grown man cry.

• Dream big and train hard… and never be too disappointed for making a strong effort in any marathon.

Conclusion…

Ironically, I re-qualified for Boston on Monday. For years, I tried so hard to get a BQ because I wanted to run this race so badly. On Monday, I got another BQ and have no desire to run it again.

I reread Walden (or Life in the Woods) by Henry David Thoreau on the plane trip to Boston. His feelings about his 2-year experience in the woods are somewhat comparable to my experience with the Boston Marathon. His comments about the beginning of his stay at Walden Pond (p. 59):

"I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. I did not wish to live what was not life, living is so dear.... I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life."

Thoreau's comments about the end of his stay at Walden Pond (p. 209):

"I left the woods for as good a reason as I went there. Perhaps it seemed to me that I had several more lives to live, and could not spare any more time for that one...."

...and such is my experience with the Boston Marathon. This was an experience I never want to forget, but this was a race I never want to re-live.

New PR's for 15K, 10K, and 5K

I have a series of new PR's (personal records) to mention.

I ran the Sue Krenn 15K (9.3 miles) at Mission Bay in San Diego on Saturday, March 3, 2007. My previous PR for this distance was 62:24 on July 4th last summer in San Diego. I was hoping for my first sub-60 15K (especially since I've never run sub-40 for a 10K). I finished in 57:45 (6:13 pace) for a nice shiney new PR.

I felt very pleased with that performance, especially since I didn't taper my mileage down for this race. I had already run 78 miles that week in the previous 6 days (including 24 on Sunday; 8x1mile @6:07 each on Tuesday; 16 with 11 @6:49 pace on Thursday). I was training through this race towards the Boston Marathon in April.

A few of the mile-markers were off so I won't bore you with my inaccurate splits. Suffice it to say that I didn't hit the first mile in 4:42 and then the second mile in 7:01. All of us were like, "What the heck?" The course was accurate (it's been held 43 times), but a few of the opening mile markers were off because that part of the road had been repaved erasing the old mile markers.

The San Diego Track Club (who sponsored this race) is a tough crowd to compete against. They have some great, great runners. Let's just put it this way. Two weeks earlier at the Palm Springs Half, I finished 12th overall in a crowd of 650. Here at this 15K, I finished 27th overall in a crowd half that size. (And yet according to race calculators, I ran my stronger race at the 15K.)

I don't know what my 10K splits were at this 15K race, but I certainly bested my previous 10K PR on March 3. I just don't know by how much. No biggie though. I would be running a 10K race three weeks later.

On Saturday, March 31, 2007, I ran the Coyote Challenge 10K at Cal State - San Bernardino.

My previous 10K PR was 40:35 on a very windy day in Slidell, LA at the Camelia City Classic 10 years ago in 1997. I had always wanted to go sub-40 for 10K and had never managed to do it. (Of course, I haven't raced too many 10K's since that time either.) I did manage to go sub-60 at a 15K just 3 weeks earlier so I had high hopes of smashing my 10K PR big-time.

The course was a double-loop 5K course. The course went uphill at about 1-2% for the first 1.5 miles then downhill. Nothing terribly steep, but the uphills would wear on us, especially on that second loop.

Based on my 15K PR a few weeks ago, McMillan's race calculator estimated I could run 10K in 37:10. But my 15K was on a pancake flat course; this course was not. I figured if I could run 37:10, go ahead and try hard and dip into the 36's to make it a big PR. I would be content with 37's, but optimistically hoped for 36:59 (5:57 pace).

We had cool weather: overcast skies and 60s. It was a mass start for the 5K and 10K races at the same time. We all took off going slightly uphill. In the first quarter mile I was about in 12th place overall. After a half mile, I passed a group of 5K runners that had started too fast. I was now in 7th overall.

Near the top of the uphill, I moved into 6th ahead of a HS runner. On the downhill stretch towards the end of the first loop, he passed me back. He was surging towards his 5K finish.

There were no mile markers on the course so I had no idea what pace I was running. I knew I was pushing the pace pretty hard.

Finished the first loop in... 17:37. Holy cow. That's a bit fast. I hope I can hang on and run at least 19:22 for the second loop and still get in the 36's. That first loop is a new 5K PR for me (I don't race 5K's often either).

Now I know I'm in 3rd place for the 10K race. The 2 guys way ahead of me are uncatchable. Eventually, they'll finish in the low 33's. I'm in no-man's land again... out there by myself with a couple minutes of separation between any runners ahead or behind.

I keep pushing the pace uphill. I surge on the last 1.5 mile downhill. I come around the final grassy loop and hit the finish... 35:53.

Wow, did I surprise myself with that effort. I honestly didn't expect to get into the 36's due to the uphill drag on the course. But wow. I'm very, very pleased to nail down a big new PR.

EDIT: Well, two days later, I just found out, I'm not quite as fast as I thought I was. I was so surprised by my race that I emailed the race director to double-check to make sure the course was accurate. Come to find out, it was 2/10ths short. So evidently I ran 35:53 for 6 miles (5:59 pace) which would be the equivalent of a 37:10 10K.

Oh well. It's still a big PR that I'm happy to have. I really appreciate the RD being honest with me. When I plug those times into race calculators, that's a difference between a 2:48 marathon and a 2:55 marathon... and that's a huge difference. I easily could have gone out too fast in Boston based on this inaccurate 10K time and paid for it by crashing and burning at the end. Now I know what I can more reasonably expect to attempt in Boston.

My first 5K split would still be a PR... 17:37 for 3 miles (each loop was 1/10th short) is roughly the equivalent of an 18:10 5K (3.1 miles).

I'm still pleased with my effort on Saturday, even though I now know I can't leap tall buildings with a single bound without getting my cape caught! I continued my bad habit of not tapering for this race since I was training through this one towards Boston. Leading up to this 10K, I had already run 79.1 miles in 6 days since Sunday (including 24 on Sunday; 8x1mile @6:03 each on Tuesday; 16 miles with 14.1 @ 6:52 pace on Thursday).

It still was fun jumping from the 40's to the 37's at the 10K distance. PR-smashing is a lot of fun. The month of March has been very kind to me. New PR's for 5K (18:10), 10K (37:10), and 15K (57:45). But in a heartbeat, I'd trade all of these for a big PR at the Boston Marathon on April 16th. I ran 3 miles cool down after the race and another 12 easy recovery miles that night to give me 21.5 miles for the day. I sure am looking forward to Boston!

Palm Springs Half Marathon

I ran the Palm Springs Half Marathon this weekend. It's a great race that I've wanted to run for several years but haven't been able to do so. Last year, I was suffering from a hip-flexor injury and missed the race. This year, I was using this event as a good tune-up race in my training for the Boston Marathon in April.

I didn't have the highest expectations for this race because I kinda overdid it this week in training and didn't taper much at all (82.5 miles; 8x1mile in 6:10 each on Tuesday; 21 miles on Thurs, last 5 @ 6:52 each).

We had perfect weather (50s, overcast which is rare in Palm Springs, no wind) slightly hilly course (see note about course map below). No need for sunscreen or sunglasses. Just a nice cool day for racing.

Race started at 7:00am. When my watch read, 7min 5sec into the race, I realized I was either running pathetically slower than I expected or I had missed the first mile marker.
Fortunately, it was the latter, not the former. (The opening mile marker to me is the most important one to catch to make sure my pace is not too fast or slow.) A person running near me told me their splits at that point.

Here's my splits for the entire race. You can tell where the hills were because I ran a relatively even paced effort and pushed it at the end which has a little bit of uphill also.

Mile 1 - 6:20 (6:20)
Mile 2 - 12:49 (6:29)
Mile 3 - 19:09 (6:20)
Mile 4 - 25:36 (6:26)
Mile 5 - 32:10 (6:34) - starting uphill
Mile 6 - 39:02 (6:52) - climbing
Mile 7 - 45:16 (6:13)
Mile 8 - 51:29 (6:13)
Mile 9 - 57:29 (5:59)
Mile 10 - 1:03:45 (6:16)
Mile 11 - 1:09:55 (6:09)
Mile 12 - 1:16:34 (6:38) - slight climb
Mile 13 - 1:22:57 (6:22)
Finish - 1:23:32 (:35) [6:22 average pace overall]

I must have run a negative split. If I split mile 7 in half (3:07) and add 19sec (.05 @ 6:22 pace), I'm guessing my first/second half splits were 42:28 and 41:04 (in other words, 6 miles + ½ mile + .05). But the climbs were mostly in the first half.


This is a huge PR (personal record) for me. My pace (6:22 per mile) would also be PR's for 10K and 15K since my paces in my PR runs for those distances were 6:33 ten years ago and 6:42 last summer, respectively. I'll be running a 15K and a 10K in a few weeks so hopefully I can reset those PR benchmarks as well.


It's also nice that this race completely resolves my PR dilemma for the half marathon distance. Until 4 weeks ago, I considered my PR Half to be 1:29:31 (San Dieguito Half 2005). I didn't count my 1:26:46 at Fontana Days Half in 2004 since that is an extremely downhill course that I ran only 4 weeks training. On January 20, 2007, I ran 1:25:15 at Diamond Valley Lake Half, but I suspected the course was short and I thought I ran something more like the equivalent of 1:27:40. Today's race supercedes all of those times so it's nice to have that PR situation rectified. BTW, I now suspect that the course at Diamond Valley Lake Half probably was a complete 13.1 miles and that the mile markers were off. Palm Springs is a tougher course than Diamond Valley Lake and I ran 1:45 faster today.

I also couldn't help but think on the way home that I missed qualifying for NYCM by only :32 (or by 8 months... whichever way you want to look at it since I turn 40 in October).

I can honestly say I'm stunned that I ran that fast today. I was hoping to run 1:25 so I'd know I had reasonable chance to attempt running under 3:00 in Boston. I didn't think I was capable of getting to 1:24, yet alone to 1:23. I'm pleased to say the least. It just felt good, all the way to the finish.

I ended up finishing 12th overall (out of 652), but only 4th in my age group (M 35-39).

Happy Chinese New Year everyone (which was Sunday)!

Note: The course map/elevation chart linked above is not completely accurate. There were so many turns on this course that I never could plot it correctly. I'm sure the course was accurate (and not 12.64 miles like my feable attempt at plotting the course is).

Life in Death Valley

Death Valley Trail Marathon
Saturday, February 3, 2007

I like a tough marathon in a scenic locale, especially a national park. Death Valley Trail Marathon is just such a marathon. My last marathon at Crater Lake this past August was also such a race. Gorgeous places to run.

Hottest, driest, and lowest are superlatives often used to describe Death Valley, not exactly the kind of conditions most marathoners desire (except for that “lowest” part). But Death Valley in the winter (which is more akin to summer anywhere else) is a great place to run. The first weekend in February for Death Valley normally averages 70s for the high and 40s for the low, but it has been known to be as high as the 80s or as low as the 20s. This is the desert after all.

Technically, DVTM is a two-state marathon. The point-to-point marathon course is simply all of Titus Canyon Road from start to finish, from east to west. This is a 26-mile, one-way, four-wheel-drive, dirt road from Hwy 374 in Nevada to its termination at Scotty’s Castle Road in California. Roughly, the first 8 miles are in Nevada and the rest in California.

The DVTM route starts at 3,460’ elevation. The highpoint is at Red Pass (mile 12 at 5,250’). From there the road drops nearly a vertical mile over the last 14 miles to a finishing elevation of 200’ (yes, that’s an average grade of nearly -7%). Because the course traverses the narrows of a desert canyon, this event often has to be relocated to another place in the park. This was the first time in four years that the marathon was run through Titus Canyon since the last three years it was moved due to snow, rain, and rock slides from winter storms.

The event sells out rather quickly since space is limited to a few hundred runners by the NPS. Most stay at the Furnace Creek Ranch, which served as HQ for this event. But why stay in a hotel room when you’re in a national park? So I camped in my tent at Furnace Creek campground. I wanted nothing less than the full Death Valley experience. The skies above treated me with a gorgeous full moon and a sweeping array of stars. Of course, I was also giddy from oxygen intoxication since the campground has an elevation of -196’. I can honestly say, I’ve never had a more solid night’s sleep before a race than I did on Friday night in that campground. It only got down to the 40s that night.

Early on Saturday morning, we all assembled for our mandatory check-in and pre-race instructions at Furnace Creek Ranch. This was a most fascinating conglomeration of runners for a race. Trust me when I say, no one was a local runner for this race! Most of the runners were from the Bay area, many of whom wanted to use this event towards points in the EnviroSports series of races which are mostly in NorCal. Others were from Canada, France, Scotland, England, and Italy. I did manage to talk to a few people from SoCal, including the race director of the half marathon I won a couple of weeks ago. Pete was a super nice guy and a strong runner. He and I ran quite a few miles together on Saturday talking about this, that, and the other thing. We finished within a few minutes of each other.

Since this was a trail marathon, there were quite a few ultra-runners in this race. I find it funny that they use a race like this for “speed work” (no kidding, that’s what a lady who often does 100-milers told me on the bus). I learned a lot about this mysterious and enigmatic thing called ultra-running by talking to these people. I find ultra-running to be like some kind of underground cult. They keep a low-key profile out in public for fear of scorn and ostracism, but they infiltrate races like this and single you out on the bus ride to convert you to their subversive movement. They have a subtle way of making us mainstream marathoners feel like we’re less of a runner and missing out on something if we’re not out there doing 50- or 100-milers. I resisted these brainwashing techniques but still left with an inner draw to discover what they had experienced.

RD Dave gave us all our race instructions. He’s a great guy with a great sense of humor. Some of his humorous but helpful comments…

• “You can’t get lost… just stay on the road.” (This was true. There are no side roads for the entire route.)
• “If you want to stop and take pictures, do so. Just let me know afterwards and I’ll deduct it from your time.” (said with laughter because we were wearing chips on our ankles)
• “There’s a false summit on the way to Red Pass. When you get to White Pass (4,900') around mile 8, you’ll think you’re at the top. But then you’ll run downhill a long ways and look way up high and see a #%&@ hill. That’s Red Pass.” (This was true. Those censored words were the thoughts I heard runners express as they first saw Red Pass at 5,250' high above them.)
• “When you exit Titus Canyon, you’ll look out 3 miles ahead and see the buses way in the distance. You’ll run for a while and look up and you’ll swear we moved the buses, but I promise you, we don’t. You’ll run some more and look up and swear again that the buses are even further away now, but I promise you, we don’t move the buses.” (This was true. For the first mile after we left Titus Canyon at mile 23, it seemed like I was making no progress towards those shiny dots in the distance. But eventually we got there.)
• “If you have any complaints, just don’t come back next year!” (said with laughter and a funny story about some runner in the past who expected personal shuttle service at the end of the race. Since this race sells out early, he’s actually halfway serious. But this was a very well run event.)
• "San Diego's Rock-n-Roll Marathon in June may have lots of rock bands, but we got lots of bands of rock!" (This was true. As you can see in some of my photos, the strata in the rock walls was gorgeous.)
• “Since we’re in a national park, let’s start with America the Beautiful instead of the National Anthem.” And we did.

We all then boarded the buses for the ride to the starting line in the Nevada desert. It took nearly an hour to get there.

The buses dropped us marathon runners off in Nevada about 8:30am. All of us were wondering what to wear since it was cold (low 40s with a slight breeze). We also knew we’d be going higher and through a narrow canyon with little sunlight. I’m a minimalist so I only wore a short-sleeved tech shirt, shorts, socks, shoes, and sunglasses. No hat (but I did have on sunscreen), no gloves, no Gu, no food, and no liquids (there would be aid stations at miles 5, 10, 15, 20, and 23). That was a good choice. Nowhere on the course did I ever wish I had something with me.

After the buses dropped us off, RD Dave assembled us marathoners. He called off 3 or 4 names, and then said, “It’s their birthday. Happy Birthday!” Nice touch. He then drew a line in the dirt road with his foot and announced, “Folks, this is your starting line.” And he was serious. “I’m going to drive ahead of you up the road. When you see my brake lights shut off, that’s the start.” And it was. There was no race clock here, but time was kept at the end of the course. There were no mile markers along the way, but that really didn’t matter because our splits on a course like this would be chaotic anyway. It was a rather unceremonious way to start a marathon, but hey, this is the middle of the desert. Dave drove up the road, and we were off.

For the first 7 or 8 miles (who knows how far?), we were running up the straight dirt road with a slight uphill grade (1%??). Everyone is relaxed and taking it easy because of the steep climbs further ahead. I didn’t even look at my watch for 30 minutes because it really didn’t matter what it said since there was nothing by which to gauge our time or distance. Even the mountains ahead didn’t seem to be getting any closer. One lady remarked, “Forget the buses, I think they’re moving the mountains away from us!”

After 7 or 8 miles, the road started getting steeper as it winds its way up to White Pass. We had hit the “5-mile” aid station in 42:45 and the “10-mile” aid station in 1:23:46 (41:01 split). I use those aid station names loosely because we really didn’t know if the aid stations could serve precisely as a correct mileage check.

After the second stop, the road turned steeply downhill as we dropped hundreds of feet that we had just worked so hard to gain. It was quite steep and I couldn’t help but think, I sure hope the downhill on the back half of this course is not this steep. That’ll be painful.

As we were running down hill precipitously, we could look up and see the road to Red Pass high above us. It looked incredibly steep and high. It reminded me of the long, never-ending climb to Cloud Cap Gap at mile 14 (7,900’) at Crater Lake Marathon this past summer. Similar grade, similar view, and similar point in the race.

But as the road turned uphill, I kept an even-paced effort and felt fine. It honestly didn’t feel that steep at all. Without laboring, I ended up separating myself ahead from some of the runners I had been with. I hit Red Pass and threw my hands in the air and yelled, “Yes!” as I could see the downhill road ahead. The climbs were over.

The steepness of the descent was not that bad. I chose to run in the middle of the road. I wanted to use the soft dirt in the crown of the road between the tire marks as extra cushioning for my body. It would be a long but beautiful 14-mile descent.

The upper part of the canyon had beautiful red rock features. Around mile 15, we passed the ghost town of Leadfield. It had been deserted in the 1920s. After a while, we came across some petroglyphs carved onto rocks centuries ago by Native Americans. No time to stop and explore these sights though.

Somewhere after that (who knows how many miles into the race), the canyon closes in and becomes a narrow passage through tall cavernous walls of rock. This goes on for miles and miles. The walls of Titus Canyon are hundreds of feet high, and much of the road is wide enough for only a single car. The walls somewhat reminded me of the Virgin River gorge on I-15 in northern Arizona. Titus Canyon was carved by water which was evident at bends in the road where flash floods had cut caves into the rock walls.

As we were running, I couldn’t help but think. What an incredibly awesome place to run. How few people who come to Death Valley get to experience Titus Canyon. What a perfect day. Sunny skies, cool air, slight breeze, no cares or worries in the world. Just run baby run! And oh was it fun!

After running 20+ miles, I kept wondering, When are we going to exit the canyon and see those buses? I came upon bend after bend after bend in the road, but no exit. I had been running by myself for miles and miles now. I occasionally passed some stragglers from the 30K race, but basically I had the whole canyon to myself.

Finally, I saw sunlight and the canyon opened up into full view of Death Valley. I grabbed my last gulps of water and Gatorade for the closing 3 miles of the race. And down the road we went. The road had not been too steep. My pace had been nice and consistent throughout the descent. My breathing remained light and easy and my HR relatively low. I was relieved to have made it through this race with no cramps, aches or pains.

I descended into the finish line with a time of 3:35:41 (19th overall out of 241). That’s a bit faster than I had planned to run, but I could also tell that I had not overdone it. I still had plenty of gas in the tank to go harder or farther if I had wanted. A volunteer at the end put a finisher’s medal around my neck and commented, “Wow, you’re not even sweaty.”

I had done what I wanted… enjoy this beautiful race and use it as a good training run for Boston (without setting back my training or hurting myself in the process). Mission accomplished. And BTW, yes, like most folks on Saturday, I had run a negative split (my splits for 12 miles and the last 14.2 were 1:50:12 and 1:45:28).

Overall, it was a tough course, certainly not an easy one. But it wasn’t terribly intimidating to me because Crater Lake was tougher (much higher in altitude) and I wasn’t trying to push the pace today. It just felt sooooo good.

I’m really hooked on these tough, off-road, scenic marathons. To go out and experience the beauty of a place like Titus Canyon by running free-spirited and carefree down the road is one of the great pleasures of life. Just take off your watch, open your eyes, and run a marathon like this for the scenery and beauty. It’s an experience for the memory books.

Here’s my photos of Titus Canyon and my visit to Death Valley National Park. (Note: the first 14 photos of the canyon are not mine, and I have cited the source in the description. The last 12 pictures are mine.)

Here's my race photos from Brightroom. You can tell I was having a little too much fun!

Diamond Valley Lake Half Marathon

Diamond Valley Lake near Hemet (near the base of the San Jacinto mtns) is the largest water reservoir in SoCal. The two earthen dams (each nearly 2 miles long) were built from 1996-99. It took until 2002 for water to fill the reservoir. For comparison, DV Lake is a little larger than Lake Havasu on the Colorado River.

On September 4, 2001, I signed up to run the inaugural marathon around the lake scheduled for November of that year. This looked to be a fun event because it was the closest marathon to my house (only about 25 miles away). Little did I know but one week later the world as we then knew it changed irreparably. The race was cancelled due to security concerns for drinking water.

This is the first chance I've had to run any of the races at Diamond Valley Lake. I ran the Half Marathon on Saturday morning (January 20, 2007). It's a great course, mostly flat, dirt road around part of the lake (only a few slight hills). It's out-and-back for the half (circle the lake for the full marathon). Small crowd (120+?) for the half. I wasn’t sure what to expect since this was my first time to run any of the races there (they also have a marathon and 5K). Weather was perfect (40s, sunny, slight breeze). Since this race is so close to our house, I really wanted to run this race even though I knew there would be only a small crowd. I didn’t even have to leave the house until 7am which is normally when I’m finishing my daily run!

At the starting line, I was looking around to see with whom I might be running. I could tell there weren’t a lot of faster people in the race because there was plenty of room near the starting line (most of the crowd was about 10’ back from it as if to indicate they had no plans to lead the race). No Kenyans either.

I asked one guy on the starting line what he hoped to run. He said under 1:40. He asked me. I said just under 1:30 (my actual goal was 1:28:25 or 6:45 pace, but based on my recent 6-mile tempo runs I honestly wasn’t sure if I could hold that pace for that long).

The race started and two guys shot off ahead of me and 1:40 guy. After about a half mile, we caught up to them. I was hoping they were shooting for the same time so we could pace together. I asked them what time they hoped to run. They said, “Two hours” (which is about 9:00 per mile pace). I thought, What the heck are you doing out here in front running 6-minute miles? But I didn’t saying anything. Me and 1:40 guy dropped them by the first mile.

Mile 1 – 6:22. Oops, too fast. 1:40 guy is still with me. It’s just me and him, and I can’t help but wonder, can he hold this pace or was he just sand-bagging when he said 1:40.

Mile 2 – 6:43. That’s better. 1:40 guy is still with me. It's just the two of us. The course is beautiful. A winding dirt road surrounding the lake. What a beautiful day.

Mile 3 – 6:42. Nice pace. Feeling good.

Mile 4 – 6:45. This is going great so far. I think to myself, “My 15K PR last summer was at 6:42 pace. I sure hope I don’t crash around 9 miles… but so far, so good.”

Mile 5 – 6:46. 1:40 guy starts to drop back a bit.

Mile 6 – 6:24. A little fast but it had a slight drop down to the west dam of the lake and then flat pavement for nearly a mile across it. 1:40 guy starts dropping further back.

Turn-around – I didn’t hit the split on my watch because of a Gatorade station at that point. Made a mental note: 41:52. The turn-around seems to be too early for being 6.5 miles. (Note: there was an extra .1 mile spur beyond the start line at the end of the course so the turn around should have been exactly at 6.5 miles.)

Mile 7 – 4:19. Yep, that mile marker is way off. Even Ryan Hall didn’t run a 4:19 mile when he ran a new American record for the half marathon last weekend in Houston!

Mile 8 – 6:28. Back on track. Good mile. I can’t help but see that split and think, wow, that’s 40-minute 10K pace… this from a guy who’s never run a sub-40 10K in his life. So far so good.

Mile 9 - ? Split is messed up. Something like 7:28. There is no way that I ran that slow for that mile because my pace and effort hasn’t changed much at all. I didn’t even hit the split timer on my watch because I knew it was off.

Miles 10.0 to 13.1 – I don’t even bother hitting the splits on my watch. I should have just so I could gauge my pace better. I ran 34:46 from MM8 to the finish (6:49 pace per mile). That seems accurate for those 5.1 miles.

Meanwhile, back to the race itself. After the turn-around, I meet 1:40 guy about 30sec behind me. I then pass a teenager another minute or so behind him. He’s looking strong. He’s tall and has long legs. I know if I fade, teenager guy will probably catch me and win the race.

I’m far enough ahead that I can spot the runners behind me only when I come around some of the bends of the lake. I estimate that I’ve still got 1:30 to 2:00 on teenager guy. 1:40 guy has faded to third, a couple of minutes behind teenager guy.

It’s fun being out in front. I’m just not used to it though. All the runners coming the opposite way cheer me on. There’s no one with me. No race vehicle, no race director on a bike. Just me and the breeze… my own personal time-trial.

I come around the final bend, turn the corner, and go down through the chute. 1:25:15. Overall winner. Nice. Teenager-guy (actually a XC runner from Hemet High) finishes in 1:26:56. 1:40 guy finishes in 1:30:05. Great runs for both of them. They both are nice guys and I got to talk to them some after the race.

1:25:15 would be a new PR (personal record) for me for a half marathon. But I’m 99% sure the course was short at the turn-around. Based on my splits, I think I ran the equivalent of a 1:27:40 on an accurate course (if I add about 2:25 to that 7th mile; 4:19 + 2:25 = 6:44 which was about the pace I was running). I’ll know for sure when I run the Palm Springs Half in a few weeks. I have a feeling that it will be painfully clear that I didn’t run 1:25:15 on an accurate course. But hopefully, this is still a good indication of my fitness level for the Boston Marathon in April. [Correction: after talking with the RD, I now realize the course was a full 13.1 miles as it was supposed to be, but some of the opening mile markers were too long which resulted in mile 7 at the turn-around appearing way too short.]

Sorry for such a long story. I'm just not used to winning races, even small ones in obscure corners of our world. BTW, for winning, I got a plaque with a wooly mammoth statue on it (not exactly sure the significance of that… maybe an indication I need to shave?) and a gift certificate for a pizza. Mmmm. I look forward to that.

Nameless's charge up Baldy

I got up at 5am this morning to drive over to Mt Baldy for the 41st annual Labor Day Run-to-the-Top of Mt Baldy. It's an 8-mile race up 4000' to the peak of Baldy (10,064', the highest point in the San Gabriel mtns overlooking Los Angeles). Before I left, I read the tragic news that Australian crocodile-hunter Steve Irwin had died tragically from a sting-ray barb. I was sorry to hear that because he seemed like a good-natured, fun-loving guy and he seemed to do a great job emphasizing environmental issues.

On to Baldy. This is one brutal race... a death march into the sky... an average 10% grade all the way to the top. It's a tough race but it's a blast.

The race starts at the parking lot for the Baldy Ski Lift. You run downhill on pavement at a 15% grade (no exaggeration, that's what the street sign warns) for about a quarter mile, then it's all uphill. The first 4 miles are on fire roads to the top of the ski lift. The last 4 miles are up the "Devil's backbone" trail to the top.

I last ran this race in 2003 (2 weeks after running Pikes Peak Marathon). Then I ran 1:33:37. Two goals for me today: set a new PCR (personal course record) and go sub-1:30.

The race went well. The downhill pavement part was painful. I ran nearly every step of the 4 miles up the fire road (unlike in 2003 when I had to power hike some of that). There are three aid stations along the way, at miles 2, 4, 6 (although I'm not sure these are precise... but who really cares anyway on a brutal course like this). I hit aid stations in 18:57; 38:14 (19:16 for those 2 miles); 58:17 (20:02 for those 2 miles). At that point I thought I pretty much had sub-1:30 in the bag. All I needed was to run 31:42 on the last 2 miles. The problem is that the last mile is the steepest and in the thinnest air.

I held my own with the runners near me. There was a group of about 10 of us that were hanging somewhat close together. We all probably finished within a minute or two of each other. Unfortunately, that last section was just too brutal. I pushed the pace the best I could as I power-hiked up (no one was running at this point... at least as far as I could see). I was passing rocks and trees like they were standing still. My HR was absolutely racing. I finished in 1:32:31... just 20 or so seconds behind the female winner.

It took quite a while for my HR to somewhat normalize on top. I sat on top and cooled off, ate some orange slices, and drank some water. I met one of my running friends on top. She did awesome... probably top 5 finish for the women. Then she and I ran the 4 miles back down to the ski lift. We were supposed to take the ski lift back down to the parking lot... but why do that when you can run? So I ran the last 4 miles back down for a 16-mile workout (including 2 wrong turns on the way down... argh!).

Overall, another good run up Baldy. We had good weather. Not too much wind, but it was a bit sunny. I was disappointed that I didn't get under 1:30, but at least I set a new PCR for me. I haven't seen the results yet since I ran back down instead of waiting for them to be posted. I'll have to check them out online. Evidently, I finished 49th overall (#48 for the guys... they accidentally omitted #21). At least, I was in the top 10% of the 532 runners, but I still missed getting under 90 minutes. Oh well.

Oh, BTW, the reason I'm now nameless is because that mountain was kicking tail and taking names. It kicked mine and took my name.

Oregon: "I'm pretty tired. I think I'll go home now."

Crater Lake Marathon

Crater Lake is one amazing place. Just to visit the park is worth the trip. As a runner, it’s even better to have Rim Drive all to yourself and experience it on foot.

I normally don’t fly out of town to run a marathon. My decision to run the Crater Lake Marathon was mostly due to my left hip flexor, my cheapskate mentality, and my love of tough, scenic marathons. My injured hip flexor kept me out of the Boston Marathon this year, and I’m just too frugal to let that unused airline ticket go to waste. So Crater Lake here I come.

The Park and the Event

This was my first trip to Oregon… and I loved every minute of it. I found Oregon to be a very friendly state... they wouldn't even let me get out of the car to pump my own gas!

Some quick facts…

• Crater Lake (surface elevation 6,178’) is in the caldera of Mount Mazama which collapsed in on itself roughly 7000-8000 years ago from an original height of ca. 11,000’.
• The rim varies in altitude between 7,000’ to 8,929’ (Mount Scott)
• Crater Lake is the deepest lake in the U.S. (ca. 1,950’ at its deepest), and the seventh deepest in the world.
• The park is the fifth oldest national park in the U.S.
• This is one of the few marathons run entirely in a national park.
• The altitude of the course ranges from 5,980’ to 7,850’.
• The marathon was mostly on paved roads (not trails) circling the lake (or about 2/3rds of 33-mile Rim Drive). A small part of it was on a dirt road, including a lovely 2-mile long, 500’-high hill around mile 22.
• All 3 races start at the same time and place ("The Watchman"). Most of the great views of the lake itself are on the first half of the course when you’re relaxed and can soak it all (before the last half which requires more focus and grit).

Here’s the elevation profile (although this plot is off at the end):
Miles 0.0-14.5
Miles 14.5-26.2

My Goals and Strategy

I didn’t say a lot about my goal for this marathon in advance. I knew most marathoners ran about 20-40 minutes slower here at Crater Lake than at their PR’s. I hoped to run 3:30, but I knew that would be a stretch since I don’t live at altitude. Anything under 4:00 would be a good effort and a tough run. Even as I talked to Brian (aka Gearshift/Ridgeliner from the RW/RT online marathon forums) as we ran the first 3 miles together (he was doing the 13-mile race), I pretty much conceded 3:30 was not doable for me and I should expect something more like 3:40-3:55.

In advance, I knew there were three significant uphill sections (among many other shorter ones) that I’d have to watch out for:

• The small one = miles 2.0 to 3.0 (going up about 200’ non-stop)
• The long one = miles 9.6 to 14.5 (going up 1100’ from 6718’ to 7850’)
• The brutal one = miles 22.3 to 24.5 (going up 470’)

When I drove the course and saw these climbs for myself on Friday, they really scared me. The long one was relentless. After going up about 2 miles, you can look up and see the road going to Cloud Cap still high above you and know that’s where you’ve still got to go. But after 14.5 miles, there’s a long stretch of downhill until you reach Lost Creek Camp around mile 22.

I decided the best strategy would be to hold back and make it to the top of Cloud Cap (7850’, the highest point on the course) at mile 14.5 without overdoing it. Then if I felt good, I could start pushing the pace more on the way to Lost Creek. I figured maybe I could run around 8:30-9:00 on the uphills and 7:30s on the downhills. Maybe.

Race Day

Cold (low 40s?) and breezy at the start, but it could have been much worse (and it was much windier when I went to the rim at sunrise on Sunday, the day after the race). All of us huddled wherever we could get out of the wind.

BTW, I think a few of the mile markers were misplaced. Mile 13 and 26 seemed too short which makes me think mile markers at 12 and 25 were too long.

• Mile 1 – 7:45 (7:45) – good first mile; mix of uphill and downhill.
• Mile 2 – 7:03 (14:48) – mostly downhill
• Mile 3 – 8:01 (22:50) – mostly uphill
• Mile 4 – 6:58 (29:48) – downhill. I can see Cloud Cap across the lake. Holy freakin’ cow, I’ve got to run over there? …and that’s only halfway?
• Mile 5 – 6:55 (36:44) – downhill
• Mile 6 – 7:10 (43:54) – downhill
• Mile 7 – 8:16 (52:11) – some brief uphill mixed in
• Mile 8 – 7:25 (59:36) – mostly downhill
• Mile 9 – 7:46 (1:07:22)
• Mile 10 – 8:53 (1:16:16) – starting the big climb to Cloud Cap. I have over 4:38 in the bank towards a sub-3:30. Get ready to give quite a bit of that back.
• Mile 11 – 9:24 (1:25:41) – steep uphill at the start of this long 4-mile climb
• Mile 12 – 9:35 (1:35:17) – still climbing. Going slow but gradually passing people.
• Mile 13 – 6:49 (1:42:06) – MM must be misplaced because I didn’t run that fast on this uphill mile. End of the 13-mile race. No one but us marathoners on the road now.
• Mile 14 – 8:35 (1:50:42) –This is an out-and-back spur and I realize I’m in 7th place overall.
• Mile 15 – 7:50 (1:58:32) – going up to the highest point of the course and starting back down
• Mile 16 – 6:54 (2:05:27) – Hello downhill!!!!
• Mile 17 – 7:20 (2:12:47) – This is fun! Wow what views of southern Oregon!
• Mile 18 – 7:04 (2:19:51) – Weeeeeee! Pass runner #6. I’m now in 6th.
• Mile 19 – 7:14 (2:27:05) – Good bye, lake. Turn down towards Lost Creek.
• Mile 20 – 6:31 (2:33:36) – Weeeeeee! Long long straightaways. I’m catching up on the 5th place runner (1st female). I’m on her heels. Uh oh, hello sidecramp. Oops, overdoing it a bit.
• Mile 21 – 7:58 (2:41:35) – Ok, walk out the cramp, pick it back up, I haven’t ruined my race. I’ve got nearly 7 minutes in the bank towards 3:30.
• Mile 22 – 7:23 (2:48:58) – Ok, get ready for the long steep climbs. I’ve got 7 minutes in the bank. If I can just manage 11:30 miles on the steep 2-mile hill, I can get 3:30.
• Mile 23 – 7:19 (2:56:18) – get ready for the climbs
• Mile 24 – 12:46 (3:08:05) – This is brutal. Walk, run, walk, run, walk, run, walk, run. Hopefully, no one else is catching up on me. I can’t imagine others are doing much better on this hill.
• Mile 25 – 12:15 (3:20:21) – When will this end? So much for 3:30. Starting downhill. Ouch, calf is cramping and locking up. Ignore the pain. Run baby run!
• Mile 26 – 5:35 (3:25:56) – What the heck? MM 24 must have been out of place. I didn’t think I ran 12 minutes for mile 25 which partially downhill and I certainly didn’t run sub-6 for mile 26, even with the downhill.
• Finish in 3:27:02 – Turn the corner, wow, there’s the line. Yes! Mission accomplished! Wow, 6th overall out of 116 marathoners. I wasn’t expecting that high of a placing. 2nd in AG (1st was the overall winner).

Reflections

What a great event. This is definitely my kind of marathon. It’s a tough course, but very doable if you don’t obsess about your finish time.

It felt like a pretty even effort for me despite the course (splits in 1:42:51; 1:44:11). I don’t think I could have done anything much differently to finish any faster. I felt like I ran a PR on a non-PR course. I’m finally learning to be patient in the opening half of a marathon… and it felt so good to finish strong. Believe it or not, that last climb was a strong effort.

That last 2-mile hill was brutal and ugly. I had heard horror stories about it in advance. Even past champions admittted they slogged it out by having to walk some and give back some time. Most everyone of the top finishers I met admitted they had to walk some or at least jog with tiny steps. What a tough way to finish a marathon. But no complaints here. If I wanted to do something easy, I wouldn’t be running marathons.

Weather was perfect. Cold at the start but only 60s and sunny at the finish. Breezy at times, but not too much wind at all for being so high up.

Aftermath

Sitting in the mountain creek afterward felt soooooo good on my legs. We all relaxed and chatted at the finish line for quite a long time waiting to ride a bus back to our cars.

Why not eat lunch on Mount Scott (8,928’), the highest point in the park? I changed clothes, drove over to the TH, packed up my camelbak and headed up the trail. It’s only 2.5 miles to the top (and only 1300’ elevation gain). I didn’t push the pace and was on top in 40 minutes. Wow, what great views from on top. I can easily spot most of the marathon course and volcanic peaks in all directions. I can even spot Mt Shasta over 100 miles away in California. I’ve gotta come back and hike a bunch of these peaks, especially nearby Mt Thielsen (the "lightning rod of the Cascades"). What a great day!

Here's a couple of newspaper articles about this year's marathon: Klamath Falls Herald and News and Southern Oregon's Mail Tribune. Here's the official race results. At first, they incorrectly listed my time at 3:37:02 instead of 3:27:02 which is obvious by the times listed by those who finished behind me, but after several weeks the race officials corrected it. [Note: it took another 6 months to get marathonguide.com which had picked up the initial typo to correct their results so that I'm now correctly listed as 3:27:02.]

Here's my race photo which caught me mid-stride with quite a goofy-looking smile.

In 3 days time, I got to see over 700 miles of Oregon and what a beautiful state it is. I drove most of these miles on Sunday since I had a late flight and I was too sore to do anything else. (Just getting in/out of the car was painful!)

Friday, I drove down from Eugene on Hwy 58 and 97 to the north entrance of Crater Lake National Park. After driving most of the marathon course, drove 60 miles south to Klamath Falls to spend the night there (the park campgrounds were already full). K-Falls (as the locals call it) is a great little city on a Klamath Lake. Beautiful wide open farm land stretches for miles and miles with picturesque mountains as the boundaries to these lowlands.

Saturday, after the marathon and hike up Mt Scott, I camped in my new tent in the park at Mazama Campground. I was asleep by 9:30.

Sunday, I woke early (before my alarm... and sunrise). I went ahead and packed up and pulled out at 5:00am. I drove up to the rim and photographed Crater Lake with warm purples, oranges, and pinks of the pre-dawn light. I then drove Hwy 138 to Roseburg and Hwy 42 to Coos Bay on the coast (famous at the hometown of Steve Prefontaine). From there, I drove roughly 100 miles up US101 along the Oregon Coast. Absolutely beautiful scenery... morning fog, sea lions, rocky beaches, lighthouses, picturesque bridges, quaint towns, etc. After lunch in Newport, I drove through Corvallis and on up to Salem to see the capitol.

On the flight home, I had a window seat and easily spotted Three Sisters, Mt Thielsen, and Crater Lake. The pilot even treated us to a nice close up of Crater Lake by waiting to make his left bend turn until we directly over the lake so we were looking right down on it. It was really incredible to see an aerial view of the whole marathon course.

I saw quite a few interesting sights on my trip:

• The pinnacles at Crater Lake which are tall (100'?) narrow spires formed by lava vents that fossilized.
• The volcanic peaks of the Cascades are spectacular. Mt Thielsen (the "lightning rod of the Cascades") is very noteworthy since it sticks up like a rocky horn in a sea of trees. Mt Mcloughlin is a beautiful snow-covered cone peak south of Crater Lake. Three sisters are very impressive.
• The canoes, kayaks, rafts, and fly-fishermen in the innumerable rivers, streams, and creeks of Oregon.
• All the great bike paths in Oregon. There's an extended designated bike path that goes along US101 up the coast. Quite a few cyclists on extended rides since they were carrying saddlebags and extra gear. Oregon is a very cycling-friendly state.
• The juggling unicyclist in Corvallis. No kidding. On a paved bike path off the road, some guy was juggling 3 basketballs (sometimes by tossing, other times by bouncing them) while going down the path on his unicycle. It was such a sight, I almost wrecked the rental car watching him.
• The bull that was standing in the middle of Hwy 42 early on Sunday morning. Evidently, he had escaped his fence and a big RV was patiently waiting for the bull to move so he could drive on. They were having a motionless stare-down when I came up on them. Pretty funny to see.

This is a beautiful state. I regret that it took me 38 years before I ever visited it. I've definitely got to come back with my wife and kids so we can experience this state on a more extended trip.

On Sunday night as the pilot leveled the plane and we departed from over Crater Lake, I remembered the words of another adventurous long-distance runner, "I'm pretty tired. I think I'll go home now."

A Great Time at "the Y"

This is the fourth time in seven years (2000, 2002, 2004, 2006) that we have camped with family friends for a week in Yosemite at Housekeeping Camp in the valley along the Merced River. Housekeeping is a group of canvas cabins with only a few amenities such as electricity and beds. It's a step up from tent-camping without the unnecessary expenses of staying in a park hotel. IMHO, the rustic lifestyle of Housekeeping Camp (complete with campfires, easy access to the river, and close proximity to camping friends) is the best way for a family to fully experience Yosemite.

This year was our largest group yet: 9 families comprised of 16 adults, 6 teenagers, and 18 younger children. There’s never a dull moment with this group of campers. The workload is much easier also because we divide up the evening meals so that each family is responsible to cook for the entire group for only one night. That frees up our time so we don’t spend all our time cooking and cleaning every afternoon and evening.

As our kids have gotten older through the years, we’ve been able to do more and more activities. When they were 3, 2, and 1 in ages, we basically drove around, took small short walks, and hiked/biked them in kiddie carriers. They could do some easy things like throw stones in the river, cook/burn marshmallows, and swim in Mirror Lake. Now that they’re 9, 8, and 7, they’re big enough to do some more serious activities.

Here’s some highlights of this year’s trip.

Sunday
We drove 350 miles from Riverside to Yosemite via Pasadena, Bakersfield, and Fresno and then set up camp.

Monday
All five of us hiked 1½ miles up the “Mist Trail” to the top of Vernal Falls. This is a great hike because it has great views of the falls and you have an extended section through the mist in which you emerge soaking wet. At the top, you are looking down over 300’ to where the water crashes below.

At this point, the girls wanted to head back to camp so Mary Ann took them on back. But Andrew (7yo) was eager to go 2 miles further up the trail to the top of Nevada Falls. I was more than happy to go with him since I’ve been waiting for the day when he was big enough to ask me to go hiking with him. Andrew and I were joined with Dan and Nathanael (age 6) on the hike to the top.

Nevada Falls was gushing with full power from the melting mountain snow. Nevada Falls is the next falls upstream on the Merced River and nearly twice the height (594’) of Vernal Falls. We made it to the top and played safely in the water at the edge of quiet pool. Someone upstream rather unfortunately knocked a backpack into the river and it quickly went over the falls. We found out later it was carrying everything this poor hiker had, including money, credit cards, camera, and car keys. But the pack was in dangerous waters and it would have been foolish to try to get it.

On the way home, the four of us decided to take the scenic route down the John Muir Trail, making it a 7-mile loop that we completed. The John Muir Trail below Nevada Falls has wonderful sweeping views of the upper Merced River valley.

Tuesday
Thirteen of us met at 6:00am to attempt to summit Half Dome. Half Dome is one of the great classic hikes of all the National Parks. Even though the elevation is not terribly high (8,843’) compared to other peaks in this and other parks, the 4000’ drop-off from the top (including a 2000’ vertical face) is breathtaking. This 16-mile roundtrip hike is a strenuous hike and requires carrying a good bit of water and food.

As we headed up the trail to Vernal Falls, we soon divided up into three groups of 5, 3, and 5 based on our pace. Our group of five was ahead as we proceeded on up to Nevada Falls, on through Little Yosemite Valley, and up to the “staircase” which leads to the infamous cables.

The cables on Half Dome are a nerve-racking experience, but unless you’re a technical climber, every person who has ever summitted Half Dome has gone up them. Essentially, the cables are a set of 1” steel cables about a yard apart that are secured with metal poles into the side of Half Dome for the final 500’ of the ascent. Basically, the cables turn a class-5 climb into a class-3 scramble up the side of the dome.

The cables are my least favorite part of this hike because there is nothing to secure you into place other than your hands on the cables and your feet on the boards between the poles as you ascend this 45-50° slope. The rock beneath your feet is worn slick from the thousands of hikers who have climbed this route over the years. The cables are also tricky because on busy days there are lines of people ascending and descending on the same cables and at different speeds. It’s a serious workout for both the upper and lower body and a big relief to finally get up on top.

The five of us made it up to the top together. We peeked over the edge to look at the valley 4000’ below. It’s amazing how large the top of Half Dome is. Five or six football fields could easily fit on top of it. I had brought a kite along hoping to fly it on top for my kids to see from the valley below. Unfortunately, the chaotic and sporadic winds thwarted all my attempts to get it in the air.

We all relaxed, took pictures, and ate our lunches basking in the warm sunshine in the cool mountain air. The quote of the day was from Ryan, one of the teenagers in our group: “All this work, for only half a peak. Next time I want to climb a whole peak!”

As we started to descend the cables, we were thrilled to pass two more from our camp who were near the top of the cables. Unfortunately, since we were all on the cables together, we didn’t get a chance for much conversation, other than Ryan announcing loudly to his dad, “You owe me a hundred bucks” (since he had bet him he wouldn’t make it to the top). Everyone on the cables got a good laugh from that.

After we exited the cables, we descended the trail rather rapidly. Halfway down the Mist Trail, we met up with four others from our group who had made it to within 2.5 miles of the top before they turned back realizing they wouldn’t have enough daylight to complete the hike. All in all, 7 out of our initial 13 made it to the top and another 4 made it over two-thirds the way.

It was another great hike to the top, despite my dread of the cables. This was the peak that got me hooked on hiking four years ago (2002). I must admit I had forgotten how much I hate those cables until I got there. I was never more glad to get that part of the hike behind me.

When we got back to camp, I found that Mary Ann and the kids had spent much of the day at the base of Yosemite Falls. They along with a large group from camp had a blast playing for hours on the boulders and in the water.

Wednesday
This was the day for our group picture at Glacier Point (7,200’) overlooking the valley 3000’ below. Everyone drove to the top… except for me. Why drive when you can hike? I was eager to see if I could better my time on Four-Mile Trail to the top from two years ago. “Four-mile” Trail is actually a misnomer because the distance is variously posted as 4.0, 4.3, 4.6, and 4.8 miles on different maps and signs. All I know is that it’s one steep hike up 3,000+’ and 59 switchbacks (I counted them).

I biked over to the trailhead and started my charge up the trail at 10:10am. I knew I would have to push it to beat the others who were driving to the top. I had no backpack to slow me down since I was carrying only a single water bottle on the way up. I was pushing the pace on the lower parts as I would alternate running a switchback and then power-hiking the next one.

I could easily gauge my progress by looking across the valley at Yosemite Falls and see how high up I was in relation to it. I was trying hard to see if I could conquer this trail in under an hour. I pushed the pace and passed quite a few people on the way up. I hit the pavement at the top in 1:06:09. I wasn’t able to get under an hour, but I was very satisfied with a big PWR (personal world record) for me on this trail.

I ended up having to wait 40 minutes for the first of the cars from camp to arrive. It was kind of nice though because it gave me a chance to cool off in the shade and then warm back up in the sun. The others soon arrived and we had our collective group picture there, the fourth time we’ve done that through the years. It was pretty funny trying to get 40 of us together for a picture, especially since everyone wanted a shot with their own camera (which is really unnecessary since they were all digital).

After eating lunch, Mary Ann headed 8 miles down the Panorama View Trail with four other friends to the valley below. Now that’s a trail I’ve yet to hike. She got some great views of Illilouette Falls, which I’ve only seen from far in the distance. I was happy to drive the kids back to camp so she could stretch her legs on one of these great Yosemite trails.

Thursday
Since I had done a considerable amount of hiking over the past three days, I was happy to take it easy for a day. All five of us went rafting on the Merced River. That was a relaxing float. We beached on one of the sandy bends in the river so we could get out, play in the water, and skip some rocks.

Later that afternoon, we all five went for a bike ride up to the Happy Isles Visitor Center. The girls wanted to head back to camp so I went with them. Mary Ann and Andrew then continued on biking for quite a few more miles.

Friday
This past Spring, there was a large rock slide on Hwy 140 about 5 miles below the town of El Portal just outside the western gate to the park. The rock slide was so massive that the road has been closed indefinitely. The reports I have heard said that the mound of rubble is 300’ high and 600’ long. Basically, the pile is so huge that you would expect there to be a tunnel if you came upon it unknowingly. The only solution for opening access again is to build a bridge across the Merced River and allow traffic to use a service road on the other side. Eventually, a second bridge will be built so that Hwy 140 will cross the river twice in a short distance to bypass the unstable pile of rock.

On Wednesday, I talked with a cyclist who had biked down to see the rock slide the day before. He said it was a great ride because there was virtually no traffic on the road in that direction (surprise, surprise). I was very interested in biking down there to see this rock pile for myself. Mary Ann was taking the kids over to the base of Bridal Veil Falls that day with a large group from our camp.

I started about 9:40am. I figured it would take me about 2½ hours to do this 45-mile bike ride. As I was leaving the valley and descending towards El Portal, I quickly realized it might take longer to get back to camp. The road was a steep descent (three sections were posted with signs warning of 8% grades) and I went flying down the smooth pavement hitting speeds between 35-38mph with little effort at all. It was a fun descent because I had the road all to myself.

After biking 20 miles, I came to a sign that closed the road to vehicles. I went a couple of miles further to Indian Flats where I encountered another sign at the Merced River bridge that closed the road to all pedestrians and cyclists. I was disappointed to find this sign because I knew the rock slide was probably just a ¼ mile around the next bend. No one was around and I thought about going just a tad further to see the huge slide for myself, after all I had biked quite a long ways to see it. But I decided to turn around and head back. It is an active rock slide and I’m sure the road crews would not appreciate someone disobeying their clear instructions.

Disappointedly, I turned around and headed back up Hwy 140. Funny how I wasn’t flying across the pavement as effortlessly as I was a few minutes ago! I biked back into El Portal and topped off my water bottles for the long ascent back to Yosemite Valley. My bike computer indicated it would be a 2500’ ascent, not a 1400’ ascent as I had anticipated. My legs responded better than I expected on the long climbs up the road. Few cars passed me on the way back up, but that was due to the lack of traffic, not my scorching speed. The only thing scorching about my ride at that point was my tires rolling over the hot pavement in the 90º heat!

It felt great when I had made it back to the valley. Soon I was zipping along hitting speeds of 25-27mph on the gentle roads on the valley floor. I was very pleased to have completed the round trip in only 2:43 (16.7 mph) since it ended up being a much steeper ascent than I anticipated.

When I got back to camp, I found that Mary Ann and the kids were still playing over at the base of Bridal Veil Falls. I wish I had known that because I had just biked past there a few minutes earlier. I didn't stop at that time because I assumed they were already back at camp and probably waiting on me. They arrived shortly after me so we might not have hooked up over there anyway.

That afternoon we all played in the Merced River again, swimming in the cold water and skipping rocks. The water felt great on my tired legs.

Saturday
For Saturday, Mary Ann had made reservations for her and the girls to go horseback riding. Andrew wasn’t really interested and I’m too allergic to horses to even get near the stables. Andrew was eager to do one more hike so he and I along with 5 others from our camp met at 7:30am to tackle the Yosemite Falls trail. This is another one of the quintessential Yosemite hikes. This 3.4-mile trail ascends 2600’ to the top of the tallest waterfall in North America (2,425’; 5th tallest in the world).

Before coming to Yosemite on this trip, I wouldn’t have thought Andrew would be up for this hike, but after seeing him hike past Vernal Falls and on to Nevada Falls on Monday, I had little doubt that he would finish this one.

We missed the trailhead at the beginning of the hike and started up the wrong trail. This actually turned out well for us because we got to see a big black bear about 20-30 yards up the mountain ahead of us. It was no threat to us, but it was fascinating to watch as it crashed through the woods.

We then started up the correct trail which was easy to locate. This is a steep, relentless climb up an innumerable set of short switchbacks. The bottom half of the hike is shaded with tree cover. About halfway up, the trail emerges through a steep sandy section to a great scenic lookout at Columbia Rock. Then the trail descends a couple hundred feet in elevation for about a half mile under the face of a steep rock wall. At that point we emerged in full view of our first look at Upper Yosemite Falls. The size and sound of this falls is enormous. It was great to see the falls at full force because the only other time I hiked this trail (Aug 2004), the falls were bone dry. Up ahead, we could easily spot the route the trail would take us up the rocky staircase through a notch in the rock wall.

By this point, Andrew had become our pace-maker. When we stopped to rest a bit, he would be the first to hop up and start back up the trail. It was kind of funny because he was wearing a yellow shirt so we joked about him being in the “yellow jersey” (since the Tour de France was going on at this time). He was so eager to get to the top that some of the teenagers wanted to grab him and slow him down. He thought it was pretty funny.

Five of us made it to the top of the falls in 3 hours, a very good pace for a 7-year-old boy... of course, unlike the rest of us, he only has a 45-pound carcass to haul up the trail! The five of us took plenty of pictures, ate some lunch, and played for 1½ hours in Yosemite Creek at the top of the falls.

Quite a ways up from the falls itself, we actually dove into a large pool of water and walked back to the other side across a fallen tree that served as a make-shift bridge. There was no danger of being too near the falls themselves since we were so far upstream. Needless to say, the water was ice cold... cold enough to take your breath away.

As we were packing up to head back down the trail, we were thrilled to see Dan and his son Nathanael make it to the top. Nathanael is only 6 years old and he was very proud to be on top… and so was his dad.

Sunday
Instead of driving home the way we came, we decided to take the scenic route across the park to the eastern entrance at Tioga Pass. We had not been across that route in 12 years. It was a gorgeous day for the drive. We made our way past Crane Flat, Porcupine Flat, Tenaya Lake, Tuolumne Meadows, and Tioga Pass (9,948’). It was an incredible sight to see the dark blue mountain lakes, snow in July on the side of the road, and lush green high-altitude meadows.

We then made the steep descent down Hwy 120 to Lee Vining to get gas and eat lunch. We had a blast eating lunch at a local hamburger stand with the Falsettis who were traveling with us.

From Lee Vining, we made our way down the eastern side of the Sierra on Hwy 395. That has to be one of the most scenic highways in the country. You drive for 120 miles within the vicinity of all but one of California’s fifteen 14ers (only Mt Shasta in northern CA is not in this region). When we got to Lone Pine, I could easily spot Mt Whitney and its neighboring needles towering high over us. Whitney is set so far back that it doesn’t look like the highest peak at first glance, even though at 14,497’ it’s the highest peak in the 48-contiguous states. Seeing it made me want to hike it again like I did in 2003 and 2004. Come to think of it, this is the only time I’ve ever seen it when I didn’t get to hike it.

All in all, this was by far our best Yosemite trip yet. We stayed a full 7 nights. The weather was perfect (60s at night; low 80s in the day). We had a large and fun group of campers. I hadn’t anticipated hiking 35 miles and biking another 45, but it sure was fun doing it. By far, the best 14 miles were the ones with Andrew at my side. At the end of the week, he was very proud of the fact that he had reached the top of three great waterfalls and that he had hiked twice as many miles as he is old. I was very proud of him too.

My Personal “San Bernardino Mtns Trail Marathon”

Back in 2003 when I was training for the Pikes Peak Marathon, I heard about a rarely attempted hike across the San Bernadino mountains called the "San Bernardino Mountains Traverse" or "the Nine Peaks." The Boy Scouts even have a patch to recognize those that have backpacked across this route (even they don’t attempt to do this in one day).

Basically, this 26-mile hike goes up 8 miles, across 10 miles, and then down 8 miles. You start at the Vivian Creek TH (6,080’) just above Forest Falls. From there, you ascend 5,400’ up an 8-mile trail to the peak of Mount San Gorgonio (aka, "Old Grayback" due to its large barren top). San Gorgonio is the highest peak in Southern California (11,500’). From the peak of SanG, you take a 10-mile trail west across the ridgeline that leads you to the following eight other peaks:

• Jepson (11,205’)
• Little Charlton (10,676’)
• Charlton (10,806’)
• Alto Diablo (10,563’)
• Shields Peak (10,701’)
• Anderson Peak (10,864’)
• San Bernardino East Peak (10,691’)
• San Bernardino Peak (10,649’)

The 10-mile trail across the ridge dips only as low as 10,000’ at Dollar Lake Saddle between Charlton and Alto Diablo. From San Bernardino Peak, you then descend 5,700’ down an 8-mile trail to the Angelus Oaks TH (5,960’). This makes it a 26-mile trek and what a trek it is since half of it is at 10,000’ or higher.

But the day isn’t over yet for me. Since I’ve done this hike solo, I leave my bike at the Angelus Oaks TH so I can get back to my vehicle at the Vivian Creek TH. It’s a 10-mile bike ride, but a tough one. The first 6 miles are all downhill (no pedalling required), but the last 4 miles go up 1400’. The quads just don’t want to cooperate at that point of the day. So the entire circuit is roughly 36 miles (26 hiking and 10 more biking).

One of the toughest things about this hike is carrying enough liquids. In 2003 when I did this hike, I took 5 quarts and that was barely enough. Knowing it was supposed to be a very hot day today, I took 8 quarts this time (and used all of it by the time I finished biking). That’s 16 pounds of liquids alone as I start up the steepest part of the hike (the first mile above Vivian Creek). That’s a lot of weight to lug up and across all these mountains, but there’s little water on the trail and you definitely don’t want to be under-hydrated.

In 2003 when I did this hike, I actually "bagged" all Nine Peaks and signed the log books for all of them (except Alto Diablo which I never found). Today, I was only interested in hiking 26 miles (preparing for the Crater Lake Marathon in August) so I technically only bagged 3 of the peaks and signed those log books (San Gorgonio, San Bernardino East, and San Bernardino). I was within just a couple of hundred feet of the other peaks, but I didn’t take the extra time to bag those. I just stayed on the main traverse trail.

In 2003, the entire power-hike/trail-run across all nine peaks took me 9 hours, 40 minutes total. Today, I finished the hike almost a full hour faster (8 hours, 48 minutes). Most of this is due to the fact that I didn’t take the extra time to bag six of the peaks, and also I intentionally was trail-running more this time than last.

Today, I was actually 30 minutes slower getting to the first peak (San Gorgonio) than in 2003. Part of this was due to the fact that I lost the trail for about 10 minutes after crossing Mill Creek. But shortly thereafter a very unexpected event happened that caused me to lose more time.

After I had crossed Mill Creek and had just started up the trail (even before the first major switchback), I looked up to find a huge black bear walking up the trail ahead of me about 20-30 yards. I was only about a half mile into the hike and thought, Oh great, what do I do now? Well, I watched him slowly lumber his way up the trail (he was definitely a full-grown adult) and I looked to see if there were any cubs (you certainly don’t want to mess with momma and the cubs!), but I didn’t spot any. (A picture of the bear’s big rear-end will be posted shortly.)

The bear went around the bend, never knowing I was there. I waited a few minutes and slowly went up the trail and carefully went around the same bend… not wanting to meet the bear face to face! I saw him exiting the trail at the first switchback. I let him go on his merry way. When I got to that switchback, I looked down below and saw the bear looking up at me about 30 yards away. He didn’t move. He just watched and I went hiking up the trail… with a very high heartrate.

Since it was a Saturday, I saw quite a few people on the trails today… actually on all parts of the trails. I asked those that had come up from Vivian Creek if they saw the bear, but none of them had. I did talk to a guy on San Berardino peak who saw a bear near there last week when he hiked SanG. Probably the same bear (hanging out near the campgrounds for scraps).

After that unexpected encounter less than a mile into my hike, the day went along very smoothly. I had great weather (a few fluffy clouds to block some sunshine, but no threat of thunderstorms). There was little wind… just enough to keep me cool, but not enough to blow my hat off. My body responded well to the hike, but I did end up with a couple of blisters (nothing too unusual). It was a long day to say the least, and it’s good to be home.

I couldn’t help but think as I hiked today that a bunch of runners in Leadville, Colorado were also going 26 miles today, but all of their course was above 10,000' (and as high as 13,180’). Yes, the Leadville Trail Marathon was being held today. That was on my mind because that’s high on my to-do list for next summer (no pun intended). I guess I’ll have to do my own personal San Bernadino Mtns Trail Marathon again next summer to prep for that… but hopefully without the company of a bear.