Backpacking the Grand Canyon

On virtually everyone's list of Seven Wonders stands the Grand Canyon. It's far more than a place just to view from the rim. Whether by plane, helicopter, raft, mule or foot, to truly experience the enormity and beauty of the place, one must descend down into it... and that's just what my hiking buddy Dan and I did this week... 45 miles in 3 days.

Preparations for the trip:

• Securing permits. We faxed in our permit request four months in advance on June 1. That day, the Grand Canyon backcountry office received 100+ walk-up requests and 800+ faxed in requests for the month of October. We listed 16 different choices for dates and campgrounds for our trek. We got our 7th option and it turned out to be perfect for us.

• Decrease the weight and increase the fun. This time, I got my pack down to 35 lbs including food and water… down 10+ lbs since my last backpacking trip. Dan and I shared some items such as a water filter and a stove. No need for a pocketknife or headlamp... a simple razor blade and LED are sufficient.


• Food. My daily rations consisted of nutri-grain bars, fig newtons, PB & crackers, beef jerky, powdered Gatorade, oranges, and a freeze-dried meal. Good sustenance.

• Water. Unfortunately, since we were hiking after October 15, drinking water was shut off for the winter at most of the main stopping points on the trails, even Cottonwood Campground. So we filtered water from the creeks along the way and had to carry several liters in a Camelbak bladder.

• Weather. We picked October because of its "Goldilocks" weather… not too hot and not too cold. We had lows in the upper 30s and highs in the lower 70s. We mostly had 50s and 60s during the day. Perfect hiking weather… no chills and no sweat. We had clear skies without a slight chance of storms or rain… also perfect for star-gazing at night. The only downside of hiking in October is the limited daylight hours… only eleven hours of sunlight a day since sunrise was supposedly ~6:45am and sunset ~5:45pm... although deep in the canyon we saw far less of ELSO (= the evil life-sucking orb) than that.

Itinerary:

• Tues, Oct 21: Drive 450 miles to the south rim of the Grand Canyon. Camp in Mather campground.


• Wed, Oct 22: Hike 14 miles… 7 miles down the S Kaibab trail from the TH (7,260’), cross the river (2,480’) on the Black Bridge, and 7 miles up the N Kaibab trail to Cottonwood campground (4,080’). We also took a short side trip below our campground to go see Ribbon Falls.

• Thurs, Oct 23: Hike 21 miles… 7 miles up the N Kaibab trail to the N Rim (8,240’), then 7 miles back down to Cottonwood campground (4,080’), and then 7 miles further down the N Kaibab trail to Bright Angel campground (2,480’) near the Colorado River.

• Fri, Oct 24: Hike 10 miles up the Bright Angel trail from the Bright Angel campground (2,480’) to the TH (6,860’) on the S Rim. Camp at Mather campground.

• Sat, Oct 25: Drive 450 miles home.

This three-day hiking itinerary divided out perfectly. None of the days were disproportionately hard or easy. The first leg of our trek not only got us across the river but also partially up towards the N Rim. The second day was the longest, but only 7 miles were uphill and at the start of the day when our legs would be the freshest. Also, we stashed our full packs at the campground and only took water, food, and emergency essentials for the 14 miles up to the N Rim and back. The last day was the shortest, but it involved the most elevation gain with a full pack.

Highlights:

• Seeing the canyon gradually light up as we descended down the S Kaibab trail. We had started while the stars were still out and it was a while before we saw the first rays of sunlight on the higher points of the canyon.

• Sleeping under star-filled skies at night with the Milky Way stretched from horizon to horizon.

• Coming across deer at Phantom Ranch, Cottonwood campground, the N Kaibab trail, the Bright Angel trail, and Indian Gardens.

• Having a Bighorn Sheep come crashing out of Bright Angel creek as I rounded a bend. The big ram stood in the trail and stared at me and then quickly darted up the steep cliffs above. We saw four more high on the Bright Angel trail the next day.

• The quiet serenity of the North Kaibab trail. I’ve hiked a lot of trails, but it’s hard to top this one. The trail really has three distinct sections to it. The first few miles go through a narrow canyon that receives maybe an hour or two of sunlight each day. The next stretch opens up into a wider valley which includes Ribbon Falls and Cottonwood Campground. The upper five miles are a breathtaking route that edges its way along the steep red cliffs of Roaring Springs Canyon.


The vegetation gradually changes from desert flora to the tall pines and deciduous trees of the North Rim. Since the North Rim is shut down after October 15, we came across few hikers on this stretch. The quietness allowed us to absorb the gentle sounds of distant creeks and cheerful birds. By far, the upper stretches of the North Kaibab trail are some of the greatest parts of this grand park. But since the South Rim is more accessible than its northern counterpart, most people never experience the magnificence of the North Rim.


The quiet serenity of the N Kaibab trail made the upper portions of the Bright Angel trail to the S Rim to be disappointing. After backpacking for three days on our own, it just wasn’t the same to come up a trail crowded with park visitors unprepared for any sort of hiking. The S Rim appeared more like Disneyland… in fact, on the trail, I came across someone eating a chocolate-dipped, rice-crispy treat shaped like Mickey Mouse, and I thought, how appropriate. Near the top of the trail, my friend Dan ended up trapped behind a bus load of tourists dressed in business attire. Ok, hopefully I didn't become too much of a backpacking snob... but it's somewhat culture shock to finish off three days in the wilderness in the most commercialized area of the park.


• The fall colors of the North Rim. Having grown up in Tennessee, I didn’t anticipate a full palette of fall colors on the trees of the North Rim. But we came across reds, oranges, and yellows mixed in with the green of the pines, and even the white bark of an aspen grove.

• Water. It’s easy to think of the Grand Canyon as only being dry, hot, and desolate, but there’s an amazing amount of water in this place… even beyond the swift currents of the Colorado River. Bright Angel creek is a vibrant stream that descends for miles down the north side of the canyon. Roaring Springs is a gushing flow of
water that comes bursting directly out of a canyon wall. From a distance, Ribbon Falls seems like a minor trickle, but on closer examination, it’s a fascinating stream flowing over a hollowed-out, red-rock cliff. At the base, calcium carbonate has built up to form a raised, moss-covered basin to catch the water… essentially a hollowed-out stalagmite without a cave. In other places, it was easy to detect the presence of water by the lush, verdant vegetation that thrives in large places like Indian Gardens or tiny trickles between the rocks.


• Rock formations... a natural arch high above the S Kaibab trail… a tall thin spire on the N Kaibab trail... the precipitous cliffs of Roaring Springs canyon… the angled buttes that dot the horizon… the changing colors of the rock… white near the rims, dark red below the rim, pink sandstone further down, and the dark browns and blacks closer to the river.

• Tunnels. In a rugged environment like the Grand Canyon, water didn’t always carve the canyons in a way that was conducive for building trails. Each of our three trails eventually made its way through a man-made tunnel. The southern entrance to the Black Bridge crossing the Colorado River was through a long tunnel. When we got there, a mule train was coming through. High on the N Kaibab trail is the Supai Tunnel which serves as a shady resting spot three miles from the top. Two short tunnels are found near the top of the Bright Angel trail.

• Bridges. Obviously, there’s no bridge spanning the entire canyon, but the number of bridges within the canyon is surprising. Two major bridges cross the Colorado River (the Black Bridge to the east and the Silver Bridge to the west). The N Kaibab trail alone crosses a half dozen bridges.

Of course, words alone can’t depict what our experience in the Grand Canyon was like. Here’s a small fraction of the pictures I took.

Big Bear was a bear

Big Bear is a mountain lake (elev. 6,750') in the San Bernardino mountains of Southern California. It's a resort area for winter activities such as alpine skiing and summer activities such as boating, fishing, and hiking. For runners, it's famous as being the hometown of Olympic marathoner Ryan Hall.

This is the inaugural running of the Big Bear Marathon. For a first-time race (actually 3 running races and a bike tour all on the same day) in a small town, it seems to have gone pretty smoothly (at least from my meager perspective). Here's the article in the local newspaper about the race.

Friday:
• Drove up to Big Bear.
• Heard Mickey Hall (Ryan's dad) speak at the expo. He's a well-respected pillar of the community... the cross-country and track coach at Big Bear High School. He talked about his experiences doing an Ironman triathlon and how he overcame some serious setbacks in that event (such as breaking his right-pedal clip at the start of the 112-mile bike leg).
• Ate spaghetti at a local Italian restaurant.
• Drove the marathon course to see it for myself... dang, this is gonna be tough... it's like a freakin' roller coaster... much hillier around the lake than I remembered it from a couple of years ago when I was up here.
• Camped on the south shore of the lake… found a great camping site (Yellow Post #26)... no one else around... didn't even use my tent... just slept in my sleeping bag on a ground cloth under the stars. Gorgeous night. Slept like a log.

Saturday:
• Caught the shuttle bus to the starting line in Big Bear Village.
• Temps around 50s... very chilly as I waited, but absolutely perfect weather for running a marathon.
• Start of race was delayed by 15 minutes as a few roads were still being cleared.
• Supposedly ~300+ of us were running the full marathon. (There was also a half and 5K that started later).

Story of my race...

I was running this marathon blind. I had no idea what kind of pace per mile I should be running since it involved hills at altitude. I was going to have to run this one purely on feel, and not worry about what my watch said. I also knew that all my acclimatization to high altitude from Colorado at the beginning of August had long worn off before the start of Big Bear.

Opening mile. Running with four guys with four others that are ahead of us a ways. The race director, Josh, who is a friend of mine, spotted me at a street corner and cheered me on.

We go up and down on the hills of Hwy 18 along the south shore of Big Bear Lake. I'm taking it easy on both the uphills (to not spike my heart rate) and the downhills (to not destroy my quads). This is one gorgeous place to run a marathon... and it's nice that the most scenic miles were in the opening half before we marathoners get tunnel vision.

We cross the dam and we've all spread out and I won't see many more marathoners until the closing miles.
I'm out there by myself. I think I'm in 7th or 8th place overall, but I'm not for sure. I'm so separated from those running ahead of and behind me that I don't even hear aid stations cheering on anyone other than me.

The aid stations have different themes. Around mile 7, I come through the tiny community of Fawnskin on the north shore. The theme at their aid station is Christmas. They have Christmas decorations and festive music playing and I'm greeted by Santa Claus. Nice touch.

I'm amazed by the number of local people who are out on the road to cheer on us runners.
Seems like everyone has come out to see the runners. Great community support. This is the community that had a huge campaign, "Move a million miles for Ryan (Hall)" (by running, walking, and biking). There are signs saying, "Run Ryan Run" still all over town.

At mile 12, Ryan Hall's dad has his High School Cross Country team manning the aid station. He offers me a gel pack, I politely mention, "That's ok, Mr. Hall." It was kinda cool being greated by the dad of an Olympian at an aid station.

The thin air at 6,750' doesn't seem to be affecting me too much. My legs are wanting to run faster, but I don't think I could keep my HR and breathing in check if I went any faster. I hope I'm not overdoing it, but so far so good.

I know the first half of the race is much easier than the second half so I had planned for a slight positive split. I come through halfway faster than I anticipated (1:33:57), but so far so good. I know I'm gonna have to back off the pace on the long four-mile climb going up to mile 20.


Around mile 14, we start running through the last of the half marathoners. The half marathon course followed most of the second half of the full marathon course. By the time we get to the finish line, us marathoners are outnumbered 20:1 in the midst of the half marathoners (at least at that point in the races).

Around mile 15, I can start to feel my old nemesis Mr. Sidestich starting to make his presence known. I haven't felt one of these in a long, long time. I back off the pace some and hope it won't be a problem.

We're now going uphill towards the ski resorts. I'm thinking: "Note to self: Any time a marathon course runs directly by two ski resorts that's not a good thing… they build those things high in the mountains for a reason." Exhausted self takes note.

Even though I had slowed considerably on the long uphill in thin air, around mile 19 I have to take a walking break.
This was really, really disappointing to me. I wanted to run every step of this marathon, even if it was a slow pace on the grueling uphills. But I had no choice. I was now battling side cramps on both sides (I'm not sure I've ever felt that before) and my HR was sky high (in more ways than one).

In miles 19 and 20, I end up getting passed by two marathoners. One was the eventual women's winner. She's from Idyllwild (elev. 5300') so she's more acclimated to thin air than I am... but she also paced herself much better than I did to conquer this course. She ran a great race.

At mile 20, we finally reach the highest point on the course at the base of one of the ski resorts. There's lots of downhill ahead, but my side stiches hurt so bad I can't take advantage of those downhills. I even have to walk and stretch out the cramps on a few downhills of all things.

I'm struggling just to hang on in those closing miles. Around mile 22, I still manage to pass a marathoner who's been ahead of me since the opening couple of miles. So in the closing miles, I was passed by four marathoners and I passed one. Losing 3 spots was not the way I wanted to finish this race.

Finally, I hit the last stretch down Hwy 18 and run up to Big Bear Village and the finish line in 3:21:31... yep, a 14:37 positive split (1:33:57/1:48:34)... way bigger than I wanted. Never been more glad to finish a marathon in my life. It's been a long time since I cramped up that bad and felt such pain in a race. Those last 7 miles were agonizing. It would have been a great 30K race (18.6 miles)... but there was still 7.6 miles to go at that point!

Here's my splits (based on my watch):
..........|...........|.......|.....Avg
Mile.....|..Overall.|..Mile.|.Overall
Marker.|....Time.|.Split.|....Pace
-------+---------+-------+--------
1...........7:29....7:29......7:29
2..........14:20....6:51......7:10
3..........21:29....7:09......7:10
4..........28:44....7:15......7:11
5..........35:42....6:58......7:08
6..........43:07....7:25......7:11
7..........50:29....7:22......7:13
8..........57:24....6:55......7:10
9........1:04:18....6:54......7:09
10.......1:11:42....7:24......7:10
11.......1:18:47....7:05......7:10
12.......1:25:53....7:06......7:09
13.......1:33:20....7:27......7:11
14.......1:40:16....6:56......7:10
15.......1:47:27....7:11......7:10
16.......1:54:53....7:26......7:11
17.......2:02:30....7:37......7:12
18.......2:10:58....8:28......7:19
19.......2:19:26....8:28......7:20
20.......2:29:19....9:53......7:28
21.......2:38:17....8:58......7:32
22.......2:47:15....8:58......7:36
23.......2:55:09....7:54......7:37
24.......3:03:29....8:20......7:39
25.......3:12:37....9:08......7:42
26.2.....3:21:31....7:32pace..7:42

Notes about my splits:
• Mile marker #8 was way too early which made mile 8 too short and mile 9 too long. So I divided miles 8 and 9 equally.
• Mile marker #18 was way too late which made mile 18 too long and mile 19 too short. So I divided miles 18 and 19 equally.
• I missed the mile marker at mile 21 so I divided miles 21 and 22 equally.
• I ran what felt like a very even-paced effort for the opening 15 miles. The differences in splits has to do with uphills and downhills.
• Miles 17, 18, 19, and 20 were almost all uphill.
• Miles 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, and finish were a grueling struggle, even though much of those were downhill.

Aftermath:
I didn't publicize any goal of mine ahead of time because I honestly wasn't sure how my body would respond to this tough course in thin air. My goal was sub-3:20. I thought that would be a challenging goal. I had run 3:27 at the Crater Lake Marathon a couple of years ago which had a similar altitude (but with more downhill miles). I thought if I was having a really good day, I might get as low as 3:15. My consolation goal would be 3:29.

Since the race offered a good bit of prize money, some fast runners from Los Angeles showed up. I had to leave before they posted the full marathon results but I did see that the top 2 times were 2:41 and 2:48 (but those two guys normally run marathons in the low 2:30s). 2:40s is just crazy fast on this course. I ended up finishing 10th overall.

I had to rush off from Big Bear without waiting around for results or the awards ceremony (even though I now see that I finished 3rd in my age-group, M40-44). I drove back to Riverside and got there just in time for my son's basketball game (which they won). And I returned home to a very happy wife... not because of my marathon, but because she had finally received word through the mail that she passed her comps... the very last hurdle for her masters. I was very, very glad to hear that.

Big Bear was a tough marathon in one of the most beautiful places of Southern California. I'm so happy I ran this one... my first marathon in 17 months (since my debacle in Boston '07). I just wished I had paced myself a little better on that opening half so I wouldn't cramp up so bad on the last half. Oh well. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

Colorado Trip 2008

Well, we managed to squeeze in a 10-day trip to Colorado to visit Mary Ann's parents in the midst of our busy work schedules. Highlights of the trip...

Fri, Aug 1 - Drove 1,000 miles to Fraser, Colorado. The drive was smooth and uneventful (no snafus with traffic, accidents, road construction, weather, deer, moose, elk, avalanches, you know... the usual stuff in Colorado). Got in at 12:45am. Long drive. We were tired, but we got it behind us.

Sat, Aug 2 - Relaxed, unpacked, and took it easy. I ran 10.8 miles at 9,500' on the dirt roads up above the house towards the Devils Thumb TH (out and back, twice). Running at that altitude is not easy, but the air is so clean, the temps cool, and the scenery so beautiful.

Sun, Aug 3 - I got up early before church and ran 20.8 miles on the Fraser to Granby Trail (dirt trail; out and back, twice). Even though it had few hills, that was one tough long run in thin air (8,400'). It was a bucolic run through the open country of Fraser Valley. At one point (actually four times on my double out-and-back run), the trail goes through a cow pasture and I found myself running among a herd of Black Angus cattle (with no fence separating us). A while later, I saw a big hot air balloon take off. I was out there long enough to see four freight trains lumber on down the tracks. Great run. Felt good.

That afternoon after church, all the ladies went up to see a play in Grand Lake.

Mon, Aug 4 - I got up early and ran 10.8 miles on the dirt roads above the house again. Then I had to get myself over to the Denver airport to fly home to teach at CBU that night.

The rest of the family took a hike up to Columbine Lake. That is one gorgeous mountain lake. I wish I could have been there. It sounded like they had plenty of fun there.

Tues, Aug 5 - I got up early and ran 10 miles (with 4x1mile repeats) at the gym in Riverside as soon as the doors opened (4:30am). I had to do that early to have time to catch my flight back to Denver. After running some errands in Denver, I drove back to Fraser Valley. I was disappointed with my early morning run (because the gym was too hot) so I decided to run some more miles on the Fraser River Trail, a paved bike trail which runs south (uphill) from Fraser to Winter Park Ski Resort. I pushed the pace pretty well for the 5.2 miles up to the base and then the 5.2 miles back down to Fraser. The run served as a good benchmark for my pacing since there were mile markers painted on the trail. That is one gorgeous route to run.

While I was gone, Mary Ann and the kids enjoyed a fun-filled day making crafts out at the YMCA Snow Mountain Ranch. They had a big time making bracelets, necklaces, and pottery.

Wed, Aug 6 - I got up early again and ran 10.8 "easy" miles on the dirt roads above the house again. I tried to keep the pace easy since I had a race coming up on Saturday, but it's almost impossible to run an easy run at 9,500'. But at least I didn't spike my heart rate on the uphills this time.

We spent the rest of the day over at the Winter Park Ski Resort. We were racing down the alpine slide, climbing the rock wall, jumping on the bungee-trampoline, and playing miniature golf. That was seven hours of fun!

Unfortunately though, on the way home going up County Road 8, we came around a blind corner and came face to face with an ATV barrelling downhill on the wrong side of the road (cutting the corner while assuming that no other vehicles were on the road). We both slammed on the brakes but still hit. Fortunately, no one was hurt or thrown from the ATV. But still the ATV dented in the passenger-side bumper of my car. Now I have the joy of getting that fixed and settling matters with insurance.

Thurs, Aug 7 - I got up early again and ran another 10.8 "easy" miles on the dirt roads above the house. Two more days before my half marathon in Georgetown.

I then took the kids to Denver to the Rockies-Nationals baseball game at Coors Field (1:05pm start). Cheap tickets were easy to find on the street for this afternoon weekday game. We sat up in the upper deck above first base on row 20. That's a special row because the seats on that row are all purple (compared to all the other seats in the stadium which are dark green). But that row is distinctly purple because it's the "mile-high" row which officially marks 5,280' above sea-level in the mile-high city. Unfortunately, the Rockies (the current reigning NL champs) lost 6-3. They did score 3 runs in the last 2 innings to make it exciting but couldn't pull ahead.

Since Wednesday's game had been rained out, 20 minutes after the first game we got to watch a double-header make-up game. For this second game, over half the fans left leaving the 40,000-seat stadium noticeably empty. There couldn't have been more than 5,000 fans in the entire ballpark. Even in the upper deck, we could clearly hear all the sounds of the game... every catch of the ball, not just the pop of the fastball pitches.

After 3 or 4 innings, we went down to the lower level and asked an usher if we could sit in the lower seats in the later innings. She said, "Just come on in right now. It's a make-up game and there's plenty of empty seats." So we went in and sat about 20 rows from 3rd base. Then after a half inning we moved to some empty seats on row 5. Then after another half inning, we sat on the front row closest to third base right next to the visitors dugout. I told the kids, "Soak this up, kids, I can't afford these kinds of tickets!"

We were so close to the game that we could see every minute detail... even shoe laces and blades of grass. At the end of one inning, the Rockies third-base coach walked over and handed my son a game ball. He was thrilled. So we spent the second half of the game watching from some of the best seats in the house. Unfortunately, the Rockies lost the double-header by the same score (6-3). But we did get to see Matt Holiday hit a massive home-run, and the kids thoroughly enjoyed the close-up experience.

Fri, Aug 8 - I didn't run because I wanted to rest my legs for the race the next day. Instead, I got up early to go bag a 14er. My son was supposed to go with me, but he way overslept. Of course, that was partially my fault after 6 hours of baseball the day before.

We were planning to go up Quandary Peak (14,265') just south of Breckenridge. It's one of the easiest of Colorado's fifty-four 14ers. It's a pretty simple 2.7-mile class-1 hike to the top (although it goes up 3,000' of elevation).

Since I ended up doing this alone, I thought why not attempt an easy 14er with less of a drive to a trailhead. So I pulled off I-70 at exit 221 to attempt the Grays-Torreys double (8 miles rt hike). I started up the 3.5-mile dirt road to the TH. I wondered why there were quite a few cars parked down below, three miles from the TH. I went around the first bend of the dirt road and soon discovered why. This was the gnarliest dirt road I had ever laid eyes on. It went steeply uphill... and I'm not exaggerating when I say it was probably a 20% grade! Not only was it steep, but it had a deep gully that ran diagonally across it. I quickly realized that my Toyota Highlander was not beefy enough to keep from getting stuck. So I turned around and headed to the Quandary Peak TH 35 miles away.

The most difficult thing about hiking Quandary Peak is sorting out the different possible trailheads at the beginning of the hike. According to Gerry Roach's Fourteener book, the main trail is a mile up the turnoff. But actually, that's just a logging road and the main trail is well marked much closer to Hwy 9. Since I didn't know that, I followed Roach's TH (actually a logging road) and started up the trail. Soon I came to a junction and realized only now was I hiking on the main trail. At this point I tried to make some mental notes of the surroundings so I could find my way back to my car afterward.

All the trails had converged into a single line before I got to treeline (~12,000'). I got somewhat of a late start up the trail (roughly 9:00am) but I still had plenty of time to get up and down without the threat of afternoon thunderstorms.

I headed up the trail at what felt like a very slow walk. The trail was steep, but I also wanted to be careful not to spike my HR or wear out my legs before my race the next day. I just wanted a nice little walk to the top of another 14er (my 8th in Colorado).


As I was heading up the East Ridge trail (a very simple, straightforward route which doesn't even have any true switchbacks). There were some low hanging clouds which blew across the summit, but nothing threatening. After only a couple hours on the trail, I was on top. The clouds reduced visibility down to only 300'-500'. I couldn't even see across the valley to the south to Mts. Democrat, Lincoln, and Bross (my first 14ers back in 2003). But still it felt good to be on top.

I gave Mary Ann a call to let her know how it went. I took a few pictures. I talked with a few of the dozen or so people on the top. There was somewhat of a somber mood on top though because the day before the body of an experienced hiker had been found on the south side of the mountain. He had come up a different route and was climbing on some rocks off the trail when he fell. RIP.

I headed down the trail and took some pictures of some of the pikas scurrying around on the rocks and chirping as I passed by.
I wondered if I would find the right trail back to my car. Nope, I didn't. I tried several trails but none of them seemed right. So I emerged from the main trail on the road about a mile below where my car was. Oh well. It still felt good to notch another 14er in my hiking belt (my 8th in Colorado and my 4th for the summer)... although I really wish my son had gone with me. He could have done this one (his 2nd 14er) very easily, and I would have enjoyed his company.

Sat, Aug 10 - This was the day of my big race, the Georgetown to Idaho Springs Half Marathon. This was going to serve as a big test towards my fitness for the Big Bear Marathon on Sept 6 (4 weeks away). I was glad I had a chance to acclimate in Colorado for a good week before attempting this. Even though the p2p course drops 1000' in elevation, it would still be a tough run in thin air (the start in Georgetown is 8500' and the finish in Idaho Springs is 7500').

Since this was also the day that our family would start our return trip to SoCal, the original plan was for all five of us to get up early and leave by 5:30am to drop me off in Georgetown for the start of the race. But early on Saturday morning as I loaded the car, my father-in-law graciously offered to drive me over so Mary Ann and the kids could get an extra couple hours of sleep. This was a very kind gesture on his part for his daughter and grandkids since his son-in-law is wacky enough to get up so early and attempt to run that far in the thin mtn air before driving hundreds of miles towards home.

In Georgetown, I met up with three Colorado friends from the RT marathoning forum. It was great to catch up with Dan, Mike, and Carolyn. We ran a warm-up mile and then lined up for the race. My goal was sub-90 (6:52/mile pace). I thought that would probably be a stretch (despite the downhill course) based on my tough tempo run on the Fraser River Trail on Tuesday. But still I'd give it a shot and try to hang on to that pace. I'd have to be careful not to overdo it and burn myself out on the opening couple of miles which circle Georgetown before heading downhill to Idaho Springs.

I can honestly say I ran a very even paced race on the uphills, downhills, and flats. The slight differences in splits below are mostly due to the fluctuating terrain.

Splits:
Mile 1 - 6:34 - Way faster than I planned, but it felt fine though. Perfect weather... low 60s, cloudy with no direct sunlight
Mile 2 - 6:46 - a bit of uphill; and we hit some stiff headwinds
Mile 3 - 6:42 - getting in the groove, still in those headwinds; ten miles to go; so far so good
Mile 4 - 6:21 - luvin' this downhill
Mile 5 - 6:27 - wow, this pace feels very comfortable
Mile 6 - 6:51 - slowed a bit with some flats and slight uphill near Empire (Exit 232 on I-70)
Half Split - 43:30 - wow, I'm on pace for a 1:27:00 and most of the uphills are behind me!
Mile 7 - 6:36 - feelin' good
Mile 8 - 6:38 - still feelin' good; start reeling people in
Mile 9 - 6:28 - still feelin' good; reeling more people in; sun is starting to come out... glad this will be over soon before it gets too hot!
Mile 10 - 6:27 - wow, if I can run a 20:00 last 5K (6:27 pace), I can dip under 1:26!
Mile 11 - 6:30 - still feelin' great... still reeling people in!
Mile 12 - 6:33 - maybe I can still surge and get in the 1:25's by a few seconds
Finish - 1:26:02, surged and beat the runner in front of me in the last quarter mile; dang, just barely missed 1:25:xx... no wait, my chip time is 1:25:58 (6:34 pace)! Woo hoo! Sub-86!

Ran a neg split by 62 seconds (43:30/42:28)... but granted, part of that was given to me by the course.

Ended up finishing 44th overall (out of 2000+ runners). Not bad for this low-lander from California. Hiking that 14er the day before doesn't seem to have affected me a bit... although I imagine I was the only runner who had stood on a 14er the day before.

I met Mary Ann and kids at the finish. I was pretty excited about my performance. I had exceeded my goal by 4 minutes. They were excited that we still had time to go to McDonalds for breakfast. :-)

And so we hopped in the car and drove 9 hours (600 miles) to St George, Utah after the race... not exactly, the best way to recover from a race, but sometimes that's all the schedule will allow. In the drive afterward, it suddenly dawned on me that with this race I had managed to qualify for the NYC marathon (not that I have plans to run it this year). I sometimes forget that I'm 40 (and have a different required QT) because I refuse to act like it. :-)

We pulled into St. George that night and I ran 5 miles to help my legs recovery. As I was running, I thought some of the sights looked familiar. I suddenly realized I was running on part of the St George Marathon course (where I got my first Boston qualifier 3 years ago). It felt good to swim in the hotel pool with the kids afterward. And we made it back to Riverside the next day.

Another great trip to the mountains of Colorado.

Whitney and Muir

Being the highest point in the 48-contiguous states, Mt. Whitney, near Lone Pine, CA, is many a hiker's goal. Since I've already done it twice (2003 & 2004), I really didn't have any plans to hike it again. Don't get me wrong, it's a great hike and goes through some beautiful Sierra high country, but there's too many other hikes in the Sierra I haven't had a chance to attempt yet.

But my colleague Tim (a poli-sci prof) asked me last year (2007) to go with him up Whitney since he had never been up there before. He didn't have to twist my arm to get me to agree. He trained well for it on local trails, but unfortunately, in 2007 we failed to get up there on top of Whitney. We secured a permit through the February lottery, but a family funeral out of state ended up being the same day of our permit. Then I got us another permit for the end of August (from a cancellation). We camped in Whitney Portal ready to hike, only to get rained out by incessant storms (the remnants of Hurricane Dean).

So in 2008, I was determined to see Tim get to the top of Whitney. We secured our permit in the Spring. Tim trained throughout the summer. On Tues, July 29th we headed to Lone Pine. We camped in campsite #23 in Whitney Portal (which ironically was the exact same campsite my friend Dan would be camping in just a week later for his Whitney hike). We would start hiking soon after 5:00am on Wed, July 30th.

I had three goals for the day (and in this order of priority):

(1) See Tim make it up and back down Whitney. I still felt bad that we didn't make it up Whitney in 2007 after he prepared so well for it.

Since I wasn't sure how fast Tim wanted to hike, I let him set the pace. However fast he wanted to hike, I'd be happy to follow. Tim and I made good time up past Lone Pine Lake (10,000'), Outpost Camp, Mirror Lake, Trail Camp (12,000'), the 97 switchbacks, and Trail Crest (13,600'). We had a perfect day... temps in the 50s, no wind, and not a cloud in the sky. Our pace slowed some as we got into the thinner air above trail camp, but early in the afternoon we were both on top of Mt. Whitney.

Goal #1 - accomplished.

(2) Climb up Mt. Muir (14,012'). Me and Mt. Muir have some history. It's just a short 300' class 2-3 climb off the side of the main Whitney trail. It should only take about 10-15 minutes to complete, but yet less than 1% of Whitney hikers ever attempt Muir for a double-14er day.

In 2003, I attempted to bag Muir but I felt too unsure of myself when I got above the class-2 scree. Then in 2004, I attempted it again. I tried following a friend (who is a class-5 billy goat) as he quickly hopped up that short climb. But I got too nervous about the exposure on the class-3 part of the climb and stopped.

This time around, I was determined to make it up Mt. Muir. Now I had some good class-3 climbing under my belt since I went up Longs Peak in Colorado last summer. Now I felt more sure of myself on class-3, even with some exposure. Prior to our trip, I also did some online research and plotted out the best route to the top.

As we were heading up towards Whitney, I soon found the well-worn path through the class-2 scree leading up to Mt Muir. (It's actually easy to overlook since the west side of Muir from the Whitney trail looks very similar to the other needles and peaks at that point on the trail.)

After bolting up the scree, there were a couple of cheeky little moves on the class-3 stuff, including a short traverse.
But in a mere 12 minutes, I found myself sitting on top of the summit block. (No, I wasn't comfortable standing on it because the drop off the east side is 1,000'+.) I signed the summit log and sat there enjoying my view and glad to finally exorcise the demons of two prior failed attempts on Muir. I took a few pictures looking west across Sequoia National Park and north towards the needles and Mt. Whitney.

Goal #2 - accomplished.

(3) Fly my kite on Whitney. I've always wanted to fly a kite on a mtn peak. Twice in Yosemite I've attempted this (once on North Dome and once on Half Dome). Even though I tried for hours, neither time was I successful in my attempts to get it in the air. On North Dome, I had no wind at all that morning and on Half Dome the winds were too erratic to keep it airborne.

So I packed my kite in my backpack as Tim and I headed up the trail. Even though the kite collapses down to roughly 1" in diameter, it's still over 3' long and stuck well out of the top of my backpack like a quiver of arrows. I got lots of questions and comments about it as I hiked up the trail. I looked like Big Chief Flying Kite as we ascended the trail.

On top, I assembled the kite and discovered I was missing one of the small sticks. I still tried to get it airborne. I got it up a few times, but it was difficult to control and it quickly spun to the ground.
It's much easier to fly it at the beach with constant, sustained winds in a single direction. I tried for a good while and then realized it just wasn't gonna happen. Oh well. It would have been really cool to fly a kite on the highest point in the 48-contiguous states. I guess I'll have to hike Whitney another day and attempt this again.

Another great time at the Y

2008 marked the fifth time that our family has camped in Housekeeping Camp in Yosemite for a week. This time around, we had the largest group yet... not just the five of us from our family, but 43 more friends from Riverside (and Texas). Our friends (the DuCasses) who organize the trip managed to secure 12 campsites that were the closest to the Merced River... the most desirable spots in the campground.


Highlights of the trip:

Fri, July 11 - Driving 400 miles and setting up camp.

Sat, July 12 - Rafting on the river. (I got up early in the morning and ran a 10-mile round-trip route to/from Bridal Veil Falls. That is one beautiful trail on which to run.)

Sun, July 13 - Hiking Yosemite Falls. This is a strenuous 3.5-mile climb up 3,000' of elevation to the top of the highest waterfall in North America. Our family (along with 11 others) progressed up the trail. We all ended up spread out on the trail according to our paces. But in a few hours all 16 of us had made it to the top. We all swam in the cold water (but well upstream, nowhere near the edge). Soon storm clouds started forming to the north. We gathered our things and hustled on down the trail. We were drenched with cold rain most of the way down the trail.

Earlier that morning, Lynne and I got up early and ran ~7 miles in Yosemite valley. What was really cool was that we spotted a bobcat over near Yosemite Village. It's back end with on the path with its short stubby tail sticking up in the air. When it poked its head up, it was still holding a mouse that it had just caught for breakfast. Pretty cool. I had never seen a bobcat in Yosemite before.

Mon, July 14 - Rafting on the river again. Another great trip down the Merced, except this time we had to scurry off the river as another thunderstorm approached.

Earlier that morning, I ran my 10-mile route to/from Bridal Veil Falls again. Gotta love that trail.

Tues, July 15 - Hiking in Tuolumne Meadows. Prior to our trip, I had bought my first ice axe and set of crampons. My goal was Mt. Lyell (13,114'), the highest point in Yosemite. The route involved a trek across the Lyell Glacier, a relatively simple glacier to cross that often is used to teach beginners. (It has no life-threatening crevasses or steep slopes.)

The route to Lyell has a long approach. Basically, you hike out 11 miles through a high altitude meadow, before you even leave the trail to begin the 3.5-mile, class-3 climb up to the peak of Lyell.
Most climbers do this as a 2-day hike allow for an early morning climb to the peak. I didn't want to be gone from the family that long so I attempted it as a 29-mile day-hike. I camped the night before (Mon) at Tuolumne Meadows campground to avoid the 90-minute drive to the TH.

I got an early start on the hike, but I didn't realize how many different trails converged in the Tuolumne Meadows area. (I had thought there was simply one trail that went straight out towards Donahue Pass.) I ended up wasting a good bit of time making sure I was on the correct trail. I was enjoying the hike through the meadows, but halfway out I realized I was running out of time to make it up and down Lyell and back to camp at a reasonable hour. (Class-3 climbing goes much slower than hiking, and our family did have to pack up that night to leave the next day.)

So unfortunately, my ice axe and crampons went unused and I decided to not attempt Lyell. Instead, I simply hiked on out to Donahue Pass (11,056') where the John Muir Trail leaves Yosemite National Park on its 212-mile trek to Mt. Whitney. Suffice it to say, I was the only day-hiker out there. Everyone else was on Day 3 or Day 4 of their backpacking trip on the John Muir Trail. (One of these days I'm gonna have to do that.) I thoroughly enjoyed the hike, but I wish I had either had enough time to make it up Lyell or simply run that trail sans backpack as a nice long trail run. Oh well.

Wed, July 16 - Drove home to SoCal. Unfortunately, we were leaving a day earlier than the rest of our friends because Mary Ann had one of her last classes at Cal State San Bernardino. We drove straight from Yosemite to drop her off with paper in hand for her class. But she made it and we had squeezed in a great family trip in the process.

35th place but what a victory!

I ran the 34th annual Coronado Independence Day 15K (9.3 miles) in San Diego again this year. I also ran it back in 2006 (1:02:24 that day). It's a great race. Here's the course map:



And here's my hand-made elevation profile:

-------------------

Ok, races don't get any flatter than this one. There's not a single hill. It's all at sea level starting at Tidelands Park on Coronado "Island"... which really isn't an island but a pennisula (but that's not important right now).

Race day for me started at O'dark thirty... actually 4:15am. Drove 90 miles to San Diego for the 7am start. Big race. Lots of people. I got there an hour before the race start and still had problems finding parking.

I hoped to run sub-60 (6:27 pace)... but here's my splits...
mile 1 - 6:30 uh oh, a bit too slow
mile 2 - 6:09 oops, a bit too fast
mile 3 - 6:23 ah, just right... the Goldilocks zone
mile 4 - 6:20 a bit fast, but nice
mile 5 - 6:43 what the... BTW, this exact same mile split was slow 2 years ago
mile 6 - 3:42 no, just kidding, I missed the mile marker... just checking to see if you're reading :-)
mile 7 - 13:14 or 6:37/6:37... 10sec off pace for those 2 miles
mile 8 - 6:40 maybe I can still go sub-61 for a personal CR
finish - 60:33 (6:30 a mile; missed sub-60 by 4sec per mile)


The last couple of miles were fun because three of us masters runners (i.e., runners over 40) were running side by side, neck and neck. We all three knew it'd be a race to the finish line. One guy took off with a quarter mile to go. I thought he kicked too soon so I let him get ahead a good bit. Then I started kicking. I was closing in on him but I ran out of real estate before the finish line. But I did beat the other guy.

A couple minutes after I finished, I heard it announced that Steve Scott was coming to the finish. Sure 'nough, it was him. I finished 2:27 ahead of him. I was rather proud of myself for beating Steve Scott. Of course, in his prime he could have torched my tail by nearly that much in the mile alone (not just a 15K).

For runners, the name Steve Scott doesn't need any explanation, but for the non-runners realize that he held the American Record for the mile (3:47) for 26 years until Alan Webb broke that last year (2007). He also has run more sub-4 minute miles in history than anyone else (136). My kids thought it was cool that I beat someone who has his own wikipedia page. :-)

Now I'm having too much fun reminding all my family and friends that I beat Steve Scott today (even though I am 12 years younger than him). I remind them every couple of minutes about it. I'm spinning every conversation in a way to make the point that I beat Steve Scott. My son was playing Wii tennis a few minutes ago. He said, "Hey dad, I just beat all the players at tennis." Me: "Yeah, but did you beat Steve Scott?" :-)

And now I'm telling the story with great dramatic effect (and a tad of poetic license )... "I was racing neck and neck with this supreme athlete in the last miles of the race. Neither of us was giving an inch to the other. We were digging deep to outrace each other in those last couple of miles. Steve was running so fast to beat me that he realized he might have to log his 137th career sub-4 mile at the end of this race to get me. But I didn't let him have an inch of the lead. We came flying into the finishing chute side by side and I leaned at the tape and beat him by a hair. He just shook his head and patted me on the back as he realized there was a new kid in town." :-) :-) :-)

Ok, maybe I'm having a bit too much fun with this. I never got to meet him and I didn't run with him, but I did finish ahead of him. Seriously, from all I've heard, Steve Scott is an outstanding person with great integrity and character, and obviously one of the most talented runners in history. He's a great competitor and I wish him all the best with his running, his life, and his career.

This is one of the many fun things about running road races. You never know who might be in the race with you. A mediocre recreational runner like myself might be lining up right next to a former Olympian. A few years ago, I managed to finish the San Dieguito Half Marathon ahead of Paula Newby-Fraser (the "queen of Kona" who won the Ironman World Championships in Hawaii a record 8x)... and someone else with her own wikipedia page. Again, in her prime, all I would have seen is the bottom of her shoes as she would have left me behind.

I discovered after I got home that I placed 3rd in my age-group (M40-44). But I didn't stick around for any awards. I guess I really ought to start doing that since I've missed out on 2 AG awards so far this summer. Hopefully, I'll get the nice polo shirt in the mail for placing 3rd.

Got home in time to enjoy a pool party with friends and see fireworks that night. It was a good day.

Bristlecone Pines and Boiling Water on White Mountain

There's many different reasons to bag a summit...

White Mountain is often an under-appreciated 14er in California, even though it's the state's 3rd highest. It doesn't have the stand-alone majestic grandeur of Shasta. It's not in the Sierra with all the others. It's the shortest hike for a California 14er, and there's a fire road to the top.

But for the last weekend of June 2008, White Mountain was the perfect peak for my son and me. We were looking for a high, nearby (relatively speaking) peak where we could do his 4th grade science project. For him, it would be a tough but reasonable hike to do... his longest and highest hike yet... and his first 14er. (Click here for complete slideshow of pictures.)

Bristlecone Pines...

White Mountain also had the added attraction of the Ancient Bristlecone Pine Forest. Kids love seeing something that is the highest or biggest or mostest or leastest... and this grove of wind-blown, weather-worn trees offered the oldest... something even big kids like me love to see.

On Friday, we drove 5 hours up 395 to Big Pine and then on up Hwy 168 and White Mtn road. We got to the trees late in the afternoon, but still with plenty of time to do the 4-mile walk on the Methuselah Grove trail. The path leads you to the grove where many 3,000+ year old trees still stand, more than 20 of which are 4,000+ years old. Of course, the Methuselah Tree itself is not identified to protect it from the public, but we sure had fun trying to guess which one it might be. Of course, the great irony of the bristlecone pines is that in 1964 a grad student studying the trees cut down an old one on Wheeler Peak (in Nevada) only to discover later that he had cut down the oldest one! (The Prometheus Tree dated to be at least 4,862 years old, possibly older.)

As we walked among the bristlecones, it was interesting to see small, young seedlings sprouting up. It made me wonder if 4,000 years from now another father and son would be walking in this area remarking, Wow, what an old tree.

Even though my son is only 9 years old, he's a pretty smart kid. He remarked, "And Dad, I know you didn't plant these because then they wouldn't be the oldest living things."

With such resounding confidence in my youthfulness, I decided to cook him dinner and let him sleep in my tent. :-)

Boiling Water...

The main goal of our trip up White Mountain was to do his science project for the upcoming school year. Parents of school kids know how stressful it can get lining up a reasonable and doable project for school. And of course, there's always the friendly competition with the other kids in the class to encourage a creative and unique science project.

Before heading to the mountains, we had read that water boils at 1 degree less for every 500' of altitude gain... and that would be our mathematical hypothesis. It would be interesting to see how it turned out.

On Friday night at Grandview Campground (elev. 8,600') we did our first experiment. My son, who loves math, calculated that the water should boil at 195° (i.e., 212° - 17°). We set up the backpacking stove, and voila, the water came to a full boil at 195°. Pretty cool.

Saturday morning would be our big hike. Before starting, we drove to the Visitor Center parking lot at 10,200'. My son had calculated that the water would boil at 192° (i.e., 212° - 20°). Sure 'nough, water boiled at that temperature. So far so good.

Now to the trailhead. It takes nearly an hour to drive out the winding dirt road to the Barcroft Gate. When you get there, you can't see the summit of White Mountain, and won't until nearly halfway there on the hike. Only then you realize, wow, most of the elevation gain (at least 2,300' of it) is in the last 1½ miles.

So my son and I started off. I was carrying the backpack that carried food, water, cold-weather clothes, and the science project stuff. The first mile is a little steep, but after that the road meanders up and down for 4½ miles without gaining much more elevation. When we got above the Barcroft Research Station, we boiled water at 12,500'. And it boiled at 187° just as he had calculated.

My son was getting tired in the thin air on the uphill grades. But I let him set the pace and take as many rest breaks as he wanted. If he wanted to turn back, that would be his call. But he's a very driven, goal-oriented, competitive kid. (I don't know where he gets that.) A few times, I thought he might say, Enough. But he surprised me. After a rest break, he suddenly looked up, smiled, and said, "Let's knock this sucker out." I couldn't help but laugh at him.

The last big obstacle was a huge, deep snowfield high on the mtn that covered the trail for about 200 yds. We met one hiker coming down who turned around at that point (only 200' from the summit). My son told me later that he thought we wouldn't make it. But I've been on enough peaks to know there was probably an alternate route around it. So it turned into a class-2 climb through the scree at 14,000'. And we made it.

By the time we summitted, word had already spread among those on top that a 9yo boy was on his way up. When we got there, everyone was congratulating him and raving about his hiking ability. And he loved every minute of it.

He was so exhausted that he laid down and quickly fell sound asleep. I let him nap as long as he wanted. The sky was cloudless so we had no storms to beat back to the car. After he had slept and ate, we boiled some more water. Sure 'nough, it boiled at 184° just as he calculated.

At this point, I was wondering how tired he would be for the 7-mile return to the car. But he had recharged his batteries. He talked my ear off on the way back. He was joking and goofing around just like his old normal, playful self... and he rarely took a rest break (except on a couple of steep climbs on the return). I was amazed because this was 6 miles farther than he had ever gone before, and he had rarely been anywhere near this altitude.

And so we did do his science project, testing the boiling temperature at 8,600' and 10,200' and 12,500' and 14,256'. And our working hypothesis was shown correct. The water boiled at 195°, 192°, 187°, and 184°(respectively). It was a really cool experiment for this upcoming school year.

I was very, very proud of my son. I think he learned some huge lessons about self-discipline and pressing on, even when you're tired. I've never seen him more exhausted in my life. But as I mentioned, I never pushed him or urged him to go on. We did it at his pace and he led the way.

And now this only fueled his addiction to hiking. We camped Saturday night at Lonepine Campground near Whitney Portal (the gateway to Mt Whitney). In the morning, he specifically wanted me to take him up to Whitney Portal and take his picture at the trailhead because he wants to hike Whitney as soon as he is big enough. (He does realize it's a longer hike, with more elevation, to a higher altitude.) Of course, this doesn't surprise me. Near the end of our hike to/from White Mtn on Saturday, he remarked (in all seriousness), "That was a nice little hike." I thought, "little"? Makes me wonder what's in store ahead for him.

Backpacking across Zion National Park

Ever since our family stayed at the Lodge in Zion National Park in 2003, this park has been one of my favorites. It's like a smaller, redder version of Yosemite… amazingly steep canyon walls carved by rivers and creeks, but these are red sandstone, not gray granite. It's one of the overlooked gems of the Colorado Plateau due to other more popular parks nearby like the Grand Canyon and Arches.

Like most of our national parks, you only see a tiny fraction of the beauty of the place from the paved roads. The trails of the backcountry are the only way to experience the wonders of a place like Zion. To see my complete slideshow in a new window, click here (click on "options" in bottom right corner to turn on/off descriptions of pictures).

Driving Day (Wed, June 11): 450 miles of driving

I drove to Zion and got there in time to pick up my permits and exchange them for better campsite locations. I camped just outside the park next to the Virgin River.

Hiking Day 1 (Thurs, June 12): 6 miles of backpacking and 8 miles of trail running

I parked my car at the East Entrance and then as arranged, Red Rock Shuttle drove me 54 miles to Lee's Pass at the far northwest corner of the park at Kolob Canyons. Gordon (the driver) was a nice guy who knew lots of stories about southern Utah. As he drove off, I thought, "Ok, I'm out here by myself and 47 miles from my car. Better git 'er dun!"

I backpacked 6 miles down the La Vernkin Creek trail. The trail meanders along and frequently across La Vernkin Creek to the campsites. It took only a couple of hours to arrive at my campsite since it was almost all downhill, even though I stopped often to take pictures. Photographing Zion was a futile attempt to capture the beauty of this place and to try to bring it home to savor.

After setting up camp under a big oak tree at La Vernkin campsite #9. I decided to go for a trail run to see some nearby sights off the main trail. I felt light as a feather without my pack! First, I ran about a mile up to see Kolob Arch. With a span of 287', it is allegedly the second largest natural arch in the world (second only to Landscape Arch in Arches National Park). It's the highlight of this corner of Zion which most hikers in these parts make as their main destination. Due to the time of day with the sun setting behind it, I never could position myself for a decent photograph of the arch (the photo here is not mine). But it was stunning to see in person. The frogs in the creekbed seemed to agree as they croaked a loud chorus upon my approach.

Next I set out to find a waterfall I thought was up Willis Creek. I kept running up the creekbed and across the creek. A small rattlesnake greeted me as I passed by. I thought WWJMD? (What would John Muir do?) So I left the critter alone and marked the trail with pinecones so I knew where to be extra cautious on my return through there an hour later.

I had run a few miles up the creek and it was starting to get late so disappointedly I decided to turn around and head back to camp. I realized afterward that I missed the falls because they were up Bear Trap Canyon which splits off of Willis Creek. Oh well. It still was fun going for a trail run up a creek and through the deep and rarely explored canyons of Zion.

Later that night, I was sitting next to La Vernkin Creek eating dinner when I had visitors. A duck and her seven little ducklings swam and waddled by. A few hours later, I was lying in my tent about dusk when I heard something walking around outside. It sounded too big to be a squirrel but too small to be a mountain lion. It was a wild turkey with three little chicks in tow. It was nice for my neighbors to bring their families by.

Hiking Day 2 (Fri, June 13): 26 miles of backpacking

I slept hard Thursday night and got up at first light and was on the trail early. I knew I had to make good time because this was my longest leg of my trip.

First, I backpacked a mile up La Vernkin Creek trail to the Hop Valley trail. The Hop Valley trail began with a steep climb with switchbacks up to the top of a pass where I could see for several miles up the wide sandy plain known as Hop Valley. The creek was about ten yards wide and no more than about 3" deep. Hiking the 6½ miles through Hop Valley was like hiking on the beach. My feet sank low in the loose fine sand (especially with an extra 45 lbs. on my back). It made for some slow progress, and I found that I was carrying a good bit of the trail with me… in my shoes.

A few miles up the creek, the trail seemed to split and go up a steep hillside through some brush. I stood there for several minutes trying to determine which direction was actually the main trail. My detailed map didn't seem to indicate any trail splitting off. Since it looked more well worn to go uphill, I figured the trail must be bypassing some kind of steep obstacle up the creek. I progressed up the steep hill and through low-hanging branches. Soon I was questioning how this could be the main trail, but there was lots of horse manure functioning like bread crumbs (ok, I admit that's a gross analogy) leading me on higher and further through the brush. I certainly wasn't the only man (or beast) that had come this way. Finally, I was getting frustrated with the relentless scratching of this thick underbrush and I decided to cut across back to the other trail down below in the creek bed. "Ruh roh, Scraggy" I thought as I now stood at the top of a 40' ravine looking at the trail far below.

I stood there for a few minutes weighing my options. Backtrack? No, I didn't have time to waste on my longest hiking day. Lower my pack down and then climb down? No, my pack and possibly myself would get smashed on the boulders below. Search for another way down? Yes, not too far away, I found a place where many other frustrated off-trail hikers had descended to the true trail below. I've never been happier to be back on the main trail.

Soon I had made it to the Hop Valley trailhead. Wow, a latrine (who'da thunk that would be a step up for bathroom facilities) complete with anti-bacterial soap (what a novel idea)! I sat in the shade of the trees and ate lunch.

Next I headed across the Connector Trail. These 4 miles led across softly rolling hills with mostly low brush but some trees. Then came the 5 miles known as Wildcat Canyon trail. This was a wide trail which offered trees for shade now that the day was getting hot. I passed a group of about 15 people who were out on a short day-hike to Northgate Peaks. They looked at me rather odd since I was carrying more gear than all of them combined. I guess they didn't realize that all these smaller shorter trails in Zion could be combined into one long Trans-Zion expressway.

Finally, I came to the West Rim trail. This (combined with the Telegraph Canyon trail) would be my route for what I thought would be the final 8½ miles of the day. After ¾ of a mile, I came across the sign for what would be my last water source for the rest of the day… Sawmill Spring. The spring was about a third of a mile down a hill off the trail. I wasn't even sure if it was running or not. I figured, I'd better fill up with water so I set my pack under a large pine tree and headed down the trail with my camelbak bladder and my water-filter pump. The spring was a tiny bubbling pool of water about the size of the spurt of oil that Jed Clampett had shot out of the ground. Even though the spring sat in the hot afternoon sun, the water was refreshingly cold and tasted oh so good!

By this point of the afternoon, I was counting down the miles (or more rightly the minutes) until I came to the Telegraph Canyon trail which served as a 1½-mile shortcut to my campsite. Unfortunately, there was a long steep climb upward to that much anticipated junction… and when I got there I was rudely greeted with an unexpected sign: "TRAIL CLOSED due to downed trees and erosion." I wasn't too excited about this little detour. After hiking 23 miles with a 45-pound pack to get to this point, I just collapsed under a tree and pondered that sign. Instead of hiking 1.8 miles down Telegraph Canyon trail, I now had to hike 3.2 miles continuing on West Rim trail.

Even though I really wasn't in the mood to add any extra miles to my hike that day, I must admit the views from the West Rim trail were stunning. Most of the way, I was looking down on countless canyons as far as one could see. When I did arrive at my campsite (West Rim #1), I just dropped my pack and laid flat on my back for 15-20 minutes. I've run marathons in rugged places like Pikes Peak, Crater Lake, and Death Valley before, but it's been a long time since I've been that exhausted. Running 26 miles free-spirited and unencumbered is one matter, but hiking 26 miles with a full pack is a whole other matter. I realized 26 miles of backpacking is about my limit for one day. That's good to know.

After inhaling a tasty dinner of rice, beef jerky, and an orange for dessert (all of which pretty much vaporized in my mouth), I insisted that my tired legs take me and my water filter about a quarter mile further down the trail to Cabin Spring (the reason I selected this campsite) to load up on water. That would be one less thing to do in the morning.

That night I had visitors again, but these were not as welcome. Seemingly every mosquito on that side of the park smelled fresh blood. And they congregated on the screen of my tent. I was treated to a gorgeous sunset out the side of my tent as night fell, and my hungry little visitors returned in the morning for sunrise to see if I wanted to come out and play.

Hiking Day 3 (Sat, June 14): 16 miles of backpacking and 450 miles of driving

I went to bed Friday night wondering what my legs would feel like in the morning. I was afraid they might stage a revolt and self-amputate themselves if I tried to walk any further. But I was pleasantly surprised to find my legs awoke refreshed and up for another big day of hiking.

Saturday would be a shorter day in terms of mileage, but it was a day of bigger climbs. I'd be hiking down into the heart of the main valley thousands of feet below and then back up and out of the canyon up the steep walls, up to the East Rim, and on over to the East Entrance.

I started early again, and I proceeded two miles down the West Rim trail to Scout's Lookout. The morning sunrise over the canyons adjacent to the trail was spectacular. It was odd to arrive at Scout's Lookout by mostly going downhill. I had been here three years before after running the St. George Marathon. Scout's Lookout is the last stop on the main trail up from the floor of Zion to Angel's Landing. At Scout's Lookout, there's only the final strenuous and rather exposed ½-mile climb up to the top of Angel's Landing, one of the supreme highlights of Zion National Park. Like I said, I had been here before, but on that afternoon in October 2005, my legs were too tired to go any further after running 26 miles that morning for my first BQ (Boston-qualifier).

But this morning, my legs were fresh so I stashed my pack (no need to take that to the top!) and set off with only my camera to conquer Angel's Landing. Again, I felt light as a feather as I quickly climbed the final 500' to the top… and it is a climb, often on all fours and often with no more than a few feet of room to spare with the valley floor 2,000' directly below. There were a few early-risers who were already up on top savoring the amazing views of the valley in all directions. But what distracted my attention was the sight of the steep switchbacks on the east canyon wall that I knew I'd have to ascend in an hour or two. Normally, I'd relax and spend some time on a magnificent summit like this, but I'd better get going if I wanted to climb those switchbacks in the shade of the canyon wall.

So I darted back down to my pack and quickly descended to the valley floor. I passed dozens and dozens of hikers who again gave me strange looks as I descended this popular trail with a full pack. As I approached the footbridge crossing the Virgin River, a herd of five deer waded out into the river. I pointed these out to hikers I passed, most of whom were too oblivious to have noticed for themselves the wildlife right beside them.

I crossed the footbridge at the Grotto and headed 1½ miles up the main road to Weeping Rock. It felt odd to be backpacking on a paved road, but the only vehicles were the park shuttle buses ferrying visitors to the various highlights of the valley floor. Would I ease my feet and ride the bus to my next trail junction? Nah, that would be cheating. So I just waved a friendly wave as I headed up the road… and I spared the bus riders the strong scent of "Ode of Wilderness."

About ten minutes up the road, a shuttle bus passed, and no sooner had it done so and a big buck jumped out in the road about 10 yards ahead of me. He just looked at me cock-eyed as if to say, "You're not supposed to be there! The bus just passed. What are you doing here?" And then he dashed off the side of the road to his friends below in the river.

Weeping Rock serves as the trailhead for the East Rim trail and Observation Point. Five years ago, I had gone this way before. I had power-hiked the four-mile trail to Observation Point… but I was carrying only a tiny day pack with a small amount of water that day. Today would be different.

Fortunately, I was graced with the cool shade of the shadows from the east canyon wall as I hiked two miles and up several thousand feet in elevation. I felt like a tractor-trailer in low gear as I ascended the reasonable grade of the switchbacks. Above the switchbacks, for a short while the trail meanders through and above several mesmerizing slot canyons that are so characteristic of Zion. I couldn't help but think, I can't wait to come back here sometime and hike the Narrows (the most famous slot canyon in Zion) with my wife and kids. That's the most popular hike in the park, and something that would interest them much more than a 3-day, 47-mile backpacking trip.

After the trail for Observation Point split from my route on the East Rim trail, I rudely discovered that I had a lot more elevation to gain. And it was hot. The sun had been scorching these shadeless slabs of sandstone that now served as my path. The route was hot, steep, and relentless. The only consolation for this draining grind was that the temperatures would get cooler as I ascended in elevation… supposedly, but I didn't seem to feel it. Across these rocks, the path was obscure and difficult to trace, but cairns had been built to dot the route as trail markers.

I was sweating profusely as I sucked in hot dry air and guzzled cold water while laboring with my pack up to and on top of the East Rim itself. The trail leveled off and now provided the cool shade of large trees that adorned the edge of the canyon rim. Two days ago, I was shutter happy as I paused to snap up pictures of canyons like these. But now, I knew I was on the final leg of my journey and within a couple of hours of my car so even the beauty of the East Rim couldn't slow me down much.

After traversing a large treeless meadow, I found myself at Stave Spring, the last water source on my hike. I thought I probably had enough water to make it to the car with no problem, but I had used so much already I figured it wouldn't hurt to fill up. So I did.

It was a good decision because the rest of the trail was a shadeless descent on a wide barren trail that was baking in the afternoon sun. I applied copious amounts of sunscreen and tucked a bandana under my hat to serve as a shade for the back of my neck. Soon down the road, I was treated to the trickle of cold water down the back of my pants. I thought, "That feels good! No, wait a minute? I'm not supposed to be feeling that!" I discovered the tubing of one of my camelbak bladders had disconnected and drained itself in my backpack. Nothing I could do about it now… and I'm glad I had second one in there.

Since there's no mile markers on trails like these, I was calculating in my head my estimated time of arrival for the last five miles of the hike (based on my pace from the previous days). Two low-flying vultures circled overhead. I thought, that's not a good sign. Good thing I'm not superstitious. It didn't dawn on me til afterward that yesterday was Friday the 13th.

Slowly the miles ticked off… they seemed extremely drawn out since I'm used to running... but without a pack. It was as if time was in slow motion. But I was making progress. No sooner had I calculated that I probably had one mile to go than I rounded the bend and there was my car! "Yes!" I shouted and I've never been happier to know I had misjudged my finish!

I wasted no time as I loaded up my gear and headed off down the road. I had thoroughly enjoyed Zion, but I was ready to head for home. Tomorrow was Father's Day and I really wanted to get home to see my wife and kids that night. And seven hours later I did. It was an awesome, awesome backpacking trip, but it was good to be home… back to the land of soft beds, indoor plumbing and running water.

Running the mountains of Santa Monica

Well, I ran the Valley Crest Half Marathon, a tough hilly trail race, in the Santa Monica mtns this weekend. Unfortunately, the morning fog burned off just before the 8am start and we were treated to the warm California sun, but at least that allowed us to see the beauty of the Santa Monica mtns in all directions.

Tough, tough hills. There's a reason there's no paved roads in this area! This is one of those fun, scenic races that you go and give your best effort but you know your finishing time is going to be well off your PR (unless you have a very, very soft PR).


I figured since I ran 1:30:23 for a half in the hills of Palos Verdes a few weeks ago (878' elevation gain), maybe I could run 1:35 on this course that has nearly twice the elevation gain (1,642'). I knew that'd be a tall order. Actually, I think the course eats up much more than 5 minutes off of a normal half time. I found out afterward, that the course-record holder from last year ran 1:13 (in better weather... cool & overcast) and he's a 1:04 half marathoner.

Ready for my splits? Here they are:
13.1 in 1:37:58
finish in 1:37:58
There were no mile markers. :-) You just go and run your heart out.

I can say I made a good consistent effort and paced myself well. No one passed me on the second half of the course, and I managed to pass a couple of runners in that same stretch. So unlike Palos Verdes, I didn't fade any at the end of this race. Mile 12 was brutally uphill and then the closing ¼ mile was brutally downhill to a disadvantage (having to brake and keep from sliding on the dirt).

I think I finished 19th overall. Overall, it was a great race in a great place. Glad I did it. You just gotta love races like this.