2013 Year in Review

A third rate video of a couple second rate runners.

The year started out with our annual beard campout at the North Willow Cirque in the Stansburry Mountains. This is one of our favorite areas to camp because of the lack of use and the extremely beautiful sunrise on the cirque's rock formations. It was a strenuous hike that required much snowshoeing but totally worth it.

Jake, Steve, Jesse, Sam at the N Willow Cirque

This year I have met a lot of new people through the Wasatch Mountain Wranglers. In February I was able to go on an adventure run with some of them to The Wedge down in the San Rafael Swell. That was one of the funnest good times I've ever had. Rim Running is an experience everyone should take the time to do. I'm looking forward to it again in 2014.

Me, Rob, Davy, Matt on one of the overlooks of the Good Water Rim Trail

Sunrise on Antelope Island, about mile 14

Steve and I spent most of the beginning of the year training for our first 50 miler, the Antelope Island Buffalo Run. Much of this training happened earlier than ever before. Like 4:00 a.m. early. For me, that's almost the only way to get my mileage in because of my early work schedule. We started out the year meeting about once a month on the Skyline Drive, at either Farmington Canyon or the Bountiful B. Recently it evolved into a weekly meeting on Friday mornings at 4:00 a.m. usually at Mueller Park. Unfortunately, Steve suffered some injuries that prohibited his participation in the Buffalo Run, so I had to run it as a solo monkey. It was a great and terrible experience for me. Read about it here.

Umstead Park, North Carolina

The summer flew by with many small and large adventure runs. I got to run at Umstead Park in North Carolina, which was absolutely beautiful and terribly humid.



Steve's highlight of the summer was our Skyline Drive 50K loop. He pulled me along the entire time and even picked me up and carried me when I was almost dead. No, really. Steve also invented a new stretch. He was nice enough to name it after one of my regular practices right before I started a run every morning. The stretch is called: Trailheads, and it involves stretching the soleus calf muscle. Basically, all you need to do is squat down like your gonna...well you get the gist.

Steve descending King's summit

As always, one of the funnest runs we do all year is the Quest for King's Marathon put on by Craig Lloyd. Steve also put forth an awesome performance that day. I was sick the whole time and did about the same as last year. I think Jake was there but I may be mistaken.

Sam & Steve with Ibapah in the background.

The last monumental run of the season was in October. We traveled to one of the more remote areas on the Utah-Nevada border and summitted Mt. Ibapah, the 8th most prominent peak in Utah. The fall leaves were amazing and the granite boulders were spectacular. It wouldn't surprise me if we just happened to do it again next fall.

2013 was a very eventful year full of new friends, new heights, more mileage, faster times and an injury or two. Here's to a very prosperous new year to come. We hope it brings us success as we train for the Zion 100K, the HOMM, Quest for Kings, and the Bear 100 Miler, among other great adventure runs along the way.

Running Along in the Dark

 

 

500 lumens rolling down the trail.

 

 

Sam and his measly one headlamp

Darkness and snow.  That is all you get for the next 4 months.  You can embrace it; or slumber the winter away.  You can enjoy the fresh mountain air; or you can breathe the crap down in the valley.  You can gain 15 lbs over the holidays, or you can adapt to the season and get in some, (dare I say it?) awesome runs.

So the question I asked myself was this:  How do I enjoy running in the darkness and snow?  First... a steady plan on some good, well tracked out trails is a great start.  So, I asked Sam if he would be up for a weekly, Friday run of the Mueller Park loop.  The idea is that, unless otherwise stated, we will have a standing appointment, all the way through March, where we will meet on Fridays at 4:00 am at the Mueller Park trailhead. Then, taking consideration of the trail conditinos, run as far up the trail as we have time for.   Once you hit Rudy's Flats, you might as well keep going, since the running will be all downhill for the rest of the loop and would take about as much time either way to get back to the car.



Mueller Park Bountiful Blvd loop Map and Stats

Matt Ricks has joined us the last two weeks on this run.  We would love to have this be a group run every Friday, so If there is anyone who actually reads our blog (hi mom), you are welcome to join us.  However, this next Friday (Nov 29) we won't be running.

So... the second part of running this time of year is how to deal with the darkness.  A good headlamp is key.  However, I noticed that I don't love running in the darkness with my headlamp.  And after a few early, dark, trail runs this year, I figured out why.  Even though I love my Coast headlamp,  with the lamp so close to my eyes, I couldn't see the projected shadows from rocks, roots, and branches.  


Wristlamps.  You know you want one.

This made it quite difficult to determine depth perception, and my running slowed to a crawl.  So, being the ingenious thinker that I am, I decided to make some "wrist-lamps" to add to my headlamp.  I wanted to still have my hands free, so I bought two more Coast 175 lumen lamps, and did some Frankenstein work on the headlamps till I had two new wristlamps.  The other thing I did was to buy a bunch of good rechargeable batteries for them, so that every time I run, they have full power.  Sure, it cost me about $70 to get my lighting situation under control, but blasting 500 lumens of light on the trail makes running in the dark pretty cool, and removes the sense of impending darkness that you feel is constantly waiting to ambush you.


Here comes the train.

Yup... Embrace the season.  That means you Jake.

Area 51...I mean Trail 51

Matt Clark, Carl Grimaud, Jennifer Richards, Susette Fisher, Bill Hiatt, Me, R. Jeffrey Davis, (Nate Younger, taking the photo)

I made some Utah County friends this morning. It was the first time I've ever ran trails in Utah County. It was also my first Winter Wonderland run this year. Oh, I've been in the snow several times in the past month or so, but this is the first snow storm I've ran in. I guess I gotta grow my beard again.

Jen and Susette at the Rock Pile.

Bill, Nate, and I started on the BST at the Water Tower/Shooting Range parking lot in Orem, just above the cemetery. I had no idea how long I'd be out, so I packed for the long haul. I thought it would be colder too so I wore one layer to many. Bill quickly took the lead even without a headlamp. Nate and I wondered if we'd ever see him again. It was a little more than a mile to the Dry Canyon parking lot where we met everyone else. It has been months since I've ran with Nate and Jeff, it was good to see them again. The others I met at the trailhead. We had a great time.

We started up Dry Canyon and turned off on Trail 51. From there we crossed over way too many intersecting trails. It's a good thing Nate and Bill were there to guide us. Otherwise I'd be wandering around in circles, returning to a big rock pile from eight different directions. I'm not even kidding. The rock pile marks a trail crossing of like eight trails.

Nate & Bill.

I like running. I can now say that most of the time I run alone. Periodically I run with one or two others. I think the last time I ran with more than five people was in July when I went to Umstead Park in North Carolina. Running with a group is always fun. I like getting to know new trail runners. Some of the people I ran with today seemed surprised that I would drive 45 mins. to run with them. As I said, I like running. I'll go by myself most of the time, but it's nice to get out with other people. Chances are I'll see them at a race someday. Hopefully I can remember names and faces. I've ran with Nate twice now, but when I got out of the car and started talking to him I introduced myself. He gave me a funny look and paused, then said "I'm Nate" in a you-should-know-that-voice. Silly me. It was dark and I hadn't seen him in winter gear before, not that those are good excuses. Anyway, I had a great run today with some new buddies. Maybe, just maybe I'll remember who you are. :)

Hey, who's holding up the line?

Map and Stats of Trail 51, Dry Canyon, BST and others.

Adventures in Millcreek

Yucky Inversion.

Grandeur west face ascent.

It was nice to get up to the mountain trails this week. Lately, I've spent most of my time on a dirt canal road near my house at 4:00 a.m. I'd post pictures but there's nothing to see in the dark, and the story I could tell you don't really want to hear, trust me. Anyway, I've wanted to do the Grandeur-Pipeline Loop for some time now. Yesterday I finally got around to it. I've done Grandeur a few times via Church Fork, but this was my first time ascending the west face. It was a brutal climb to say the least. The trail rivaled Mt. Olympus' steepness, but was thankfully about a mile less to the summit. I passed many hikers and their dogs. I even saw a guy with some 5-fingers on. Wha ha! On the way up I turned and viewed the valley a few times. I bet most people thought it was an unusually nice day for the second week of November. What I saw was a nasty looking inversion.

Summit Monkey.

I tried something new this run. I only ate solid food, no energy bloks or gels. I had some English muffins on the drive to the trailhead, a burrito about an hour into the climb, and some fig newtons and beef jerky during the remaining two hours. I didn't feel low on energy and was able to get it all down with ease. However, when I had finished and gotten home I still had to force myself to eat. I have trouble eating after my longer runs. I hope someday I can figure it out. 

After summitting Grandeur I headed down Churchfork slipping and sliding on the icy-muddy trail for the first mile or so. After that I flew down to the Pipeline pretty quickly. I could see that the sun was only touching the tops of the mountains, it was starting to set. That was not good. I was only 1/2 way done and still had about six miles to go. It would soon be dark and cold. I pushed my speed, wanting to reach the side trail that shoots up over one of the mountains then back down to 

Map & Stats of the Grandeur Loop.

eventually connect me to where I started.

 I reached the Rattlesnake Gulch trail and knew that the shoot off trail was close. The first trail I saw in the waning light looked small and more of a game trail. I said a little prayer and started the ascent. It wasn't very long until I lost any semblance of a trail and most of the light. Oh, did I mention that I forgot my headlamp? I was determined to do the loop but a little voice quietly tugged at me to turn around to safer routes. After 10 too many leg scratches of bushwhacking in the now imminent darkness I turned around and decided to take the road back. Better safe than sorry.

Sunset on the Pipeline.

Last week I ran the Desolation trail which is just opposite of Church Fork. I originally wanted to loop over to Porter Fork but was likewise foiled. The Desolation trail has a special place in my heart because as a youth I worked at Cub Country and hiked it often. Looking back, I stand in amazement that the trail to Lookout Point used to take me two hours or so (leading tiny scouts and their fat leaders) now only takes me 40 mins.

After about three miles there was a steady four inches of snow. It slowed me down but I continued to climb for another three miles when I was very close to where the trail sideswipes the mountain over to the base of Raymond and then down Porter. However, I lost the trail in the deepening snow (now about nine inches) and just ran back the way I had come up. On this run I followed people and dog prints until I hit Lookout Point. Then I followed deer and the occasional bobcat print until I ran into moose. Then, closer to the top I was the only one makin' tracks.

A look at Grandeur from the top of Desolation.

Map & Stats of the Desolation Trail.

Ibapah and Red Mountain

Photo stolen from here.

Ibapah peak is located in the Deep Creek Mountain range in Juab County on the Utah-Nevada border. It is the 8th most prominent peak in Utah. Until about two months ago I had never heard of this peak. Which is understandable due to it's remoteness. While planning these kinds of trips Steve and I will email back and forth. For this trip we often invented names for the peak since we'd never heard of it and Ibapah itself is a funny name. Here are a few of our inventions:

Sam, just reaching the saddle.

Ibapoo
Italktough
Iseepoo
PohPoRi
Isnowshoe

That last one was probably a sign of what was to come since we traversed at least 10 miles in as much as 14" of snow. Just the day before we decided to try for all three of the main peaks surrounding Ibapah, including Red Mountain and Haystack. Needless to say, the snow added a lot of extra time on our trip and we were unable to tag all three. This mountain would be most easily accessed in mid-late summer.

The prospect of running to a remote prominent peak is exhilarating. We were very excited to have the mountain to ourselves. We left the Salt Lake Valley around 5:00 a.m. and followed the Google directions through Wendover, down Highway 93, on to the Ibapah Road and then Upper Gold Hill Road, until we hit the ghost town. Then we took a wrong turn and had a fun adventure driving my little commuter car through the mountains on some 4 wheeling roads with a few worrisome spots. "Damn, we're in a tight spot." Eventually we connected to the road we wanted to be on, which took us right to Granite Creek Canyon Road. Steve and I both mentioned how interesting it is that we can feel completely comfortable running all alone in the middle of nowhere, 100's of miles away from civilization on a remote mountain top, but the possibility of getting our car stuck terrified us.

Steve, just starting out, snowy Ibapah awaiting.

The Granite Creek Canyon was absolutely stunning. We parked the car near the first stream crossing and set out running. The road continued up for about two miles then turns into a nice single track by mile three. It was steep, often as much as the Mt. Olympus trail. About mile four we strapped on the gaiters and refueled. I have had trouble maintaining energy all summer and this trip I tried eating a burrito. It went down rather easily. We had two more miles 'til the saddle, where it flattens out and opens up. That's my definition of serenity. A nice snow covered mountain with utter stillness hanging in the air.

Yummy Burrito.

It took us longer than we expected to get to the saddle. Taking a moment to plan our ascent, we decided to hit Red Mountain first. Otherwise, we might decide against it after descending Ibapah. Mentally, we had both ruled out Haystack already, but had not verbalized it yet. So we turned south and started the climb up Red Mountain. And climb we did. It was extremely steep and probably too dangerous for our own good. About 3/4 of the way up the wind howled and we quickly froze because we weren't moving very quickly. I looked at the path we had taken and what remained and said out loud, "this is probably not safe." I specifically referred to the shale we were climbing. I couldn't decide if the snow made it better or worse.

Up the shale!

Steve & Monkey on Red Mountain Summit. Ibapah behind.

We made it to the summit and snapped at least one photo too many then scurried down as quickly as possible to get out of the wind. Back on the saddle we rested and refueled while basking on some rocks in the sun. It had taken us the better part of two hours to climb Red mountain. It wasn't much more than a mile, but we gained more than 1000'. It reminded us of Anderson Pass to the top of King's. When we were ready to hit Ibapah, Steve turned and gave Red Mountain the one finger salute and renamed it Satan's Peak.

Several times on our way up Steve mentioned that he wanted to see some mountain lion tracks. Well, he got his wish. Immediately we started making a lot more noise than normal. Typically on our runs we will randomly yell out, "moose moose" or "bear there" to make extra noise to scare away such animals. At this point we added, "scat cat" to our repertoire.

Sam & Steve on our way up to Ibapah, in the background.

About five hours had passed and we had put in about nine miles. I felt great and was gung-ho to hit Ibapah, Steve, not so much. He didn't say anything for about another two miles, though. I think he entered what I hear so many 100-milers talk about—the pain cave. He suffered it silently until we were pretty close to the base of Ibapah and the last climbing we would do for the day. Steve voiced his concerns of time and cold. Apparently, he hadn't really warmed up since we touched Satan's horn. And it would be at least another hour to summit. The trip down would be pushing the time limit in the dark. I was committed to bagging Ibapah and voiced encouraging words. After a few moments Steve decided to think on it. I jumped past him and said, "I'm going for it."

Loner on Ibapah summit.

I thought after a moment to rest Steve would push past his personal wall and follow. After ten minutes or so I turned and saw that he was headed back. I had a moment of sadness where I felt that Steve had taken a part of me with him, that a bond had somehow been broken. I hoped that he felt that I had taken a part of him with me. I pushed on. Due to its steepness it was slow-going, with deeper snow too. Eventually, I made it to the summit, wha-hooed, left a monkey and looked for Steve. I couldn't see him anywhere. I took it easy on the way down, refueling with some margarita bloks. 3x the sodium. They weren't that bad tasting, but I could definitely tell that they were loaded with salt. And it was just what I needed. The relief was almost immediate and I gradually picked up my pace, often jumping a good 10' down the snow covered steepness. It was fun.

Steve's greatest moment.

As I reached Steve's turn around point I realized that we should have planned better. We hadn't mentioned where we were going to meet up again. I was somewhat worried at this point but carried on nonetheless. Honestly, I prayed for his safety the rest of the way down, until we met up again. Apparently, he did the same for me too (so he said anyway). I just followed his footsteps in the snow, which basically calmed the fears that I might have had.

Steve had taken it easy on the way down because he had wanted to make sure I was safe. Thus, we met up again with about two miles to go. I had run out of water not long before we reunited but I wasn't worried because it was all down hill, in the cold. I wasn't sweating and I was well hydrated. I was ok on energy but definitely starting to hit the point where my mind wandered and my vision bounced. I assume that a passerby would probably see my head rolling from side to side. Steve and I discussed the could have's. Steve was definitely the smarter one. He had packed a bevy sack, head lamp and matches. None of which I had. This time we were lucky enough to not need any of it, but you never know. The possibility of breaking an ankle or something is always there. Especially when you are jumping down a steep slope in the snow, alone. You never know what lies beneath.

Map and Stats of Ibapah and Red Mountain.

Huntsville Marathon

Going back to January of this year, I had struggled with my soleus calf muscles every time that I would try to do speed runs over at the high school track.  My right calf was so bad that I had to stop running to let it heal back in March.  However, since that break, I haven't had any issues with them.  Although, I should add that I have done almost zero speed or street running since then either.

With that background, I found myself after a successful summer doing one last race.  The race didn't start till 9:00am, which is really late in the racing world.  So I got a good nights sleep, and after the driving and shuttling, we found ourselves at the start line.  My wife's sister Annie was there, as was one of her friends Katie and also Annie's in-laws on the other side, Melanie and her husband Jake.  Since I didn't really prepare for this race, I was left with some hard facts:

• I had only trained less than 30 miles on the streets all year. 
• I had not done any real speed training either.  I think I ran once on the track trying to run at 7 min/mile pace
• My arches were incredibly sore from some recent trail runs on shoes that were at end of life.
• My hamstring was still hurting from the Skyline trail marathon.

I taped up my arches and stretched my hamstring and then the race began.  Annie cruised out at around a 6:30 min/mile pace, and so I smiled and let her run off.  My first mile was 6:48.   And while I was still (practically) breathing through my nose, my calves were having a conversation with each other about which one was going to start to tear first.  They made it till about mile 7.

From that point on, my calves were in searing pain.  I knew they were tearing, but I was waiting for the full blown rupture to happen.  The pop.  The point where running would no longer be possible.  But mile after mile, it never came.  The pain kept increasing slowly over each mile, and with it my speed was decreasing, but I was determined not to walk.  And as I crossed the finish line, I was relieved that I was able to run the entire race without walking (except the aid stations).  I was only a minute and a half behind my PR,  Considering this was my most painful race ever, I'm ok with that. 

A quick note on the race course and it's directors.  I think it would be hard to find an easier marathon course.  It descended over 4,000' and the very few inclines were so gradual they were almost unnoticeable.  The packet pickup was straight forward and there were no unnecessary frills that drive up the cost of other races.  They made a special effort at the aid stations to try to out-do each other, and they were as friendly and helpful as I've ever seen at a street race.  Also, them made an additional effort to get local bands (including the local bag-piper) to play at periodic locations throughout the last 5 miles.  So, I would certainly recommend this race to any new-comers.

As for me, now it's time for a long 7 week break.  I'll still get out and hit some light hearted trails with Sam a few times, but my overall training is limited to low impact, low intensity crap at the gym and on the bike.  After that, my sights will be locked on the Zion 100k in April. 


Steve Final Time:  3:49:15
Placed 14/29 in my division (men 30-34)
Placed 88/231 among all men
Placed 133/462 among all racers

Deseret Peak Loop

Sunrise on Deseret Peak.

Wish I would have remembered my gaiters.

This past week I got to go camping with the scouts in my ward to the Jamboral. I knew we were staying in the Tooele valley so I packed all my running gear just in case I could sneak away and hit Deseret Peak. When we arrived and were setting up camp I was trying to talk some of the older boys into going with me. No takers this time, which was probably a good thing due to the snow.

It was cold down in the valley when I rolled out of my tent around 5:00 a.m. I drove to the trailhead and got out to use the facilities. There's nothing like a nice cold toilet seat. I guess it's better than squatting. It was probably about 30 degrees. Perfect for running. I've missed the cold. As I started out, the trail was not covered in snow but about 1/2 mile up I was running in at least 3" the rest of the time. Good thing I remembered my long wool socks.

After 1.5 miles the sun had come up enough that I didn't need my headlamp and I started to recognize my surroundings. Unfortunately, I was not where I had planned to be. About a year ago, the OTM's ran this trail from South Willow Lake and bushwhacked it over to the main trail. I found myself in the same place, somehow I had missed the turnoff. Fortunately, I had done it before and knew where I needed to go, if not I probably would not have ventured to the summit. However, I wouldn't recommend it to the faint of heart when it's covered in snow. It was extremely steep. Luckily, I was able to follow a game trail with fresh deer tracks and only slipped a few times. I never fell though.

Summit selfie.

After returning to the main trail I only had a few switchbacks to the ridgeline and a mile to the top. The sun was out in full morning glory and warmed me up enough to take off my jacket. The snow got deeper and deeper. Most of it was only 4-5", but some of the drifts were as much as 2'. Needless to say, there was more than a little post-holing. The last mile to the top took me a lot longer than I expected, but do to the circumstances I didn't feel bad for the slow down.

Just as I reached the summit the wind picked up and chilled me to the bone. I took in the enormous panoramic views and headed down. The miles passed much quicker on the way down. Running downhill in the snow can actually be quite fun. I'd never taken the main trail all the way and I wasn't excited to bushwhack the steep slippery game trails I came up. So, I decided to take the trail down and follow it wherever it went, even if it added extra miles. But it didn't add extra miles. I passed a few surprised hikers starting up the trail. I could see what they were thinking. "Why in the world would someone be running down this trail so early in the morning and in the snow. I thought I got an early start. That guy be cray cray." I smiled at their astonished faces. Near the end, it started to turn north and I saw the trail marker that I missed. It was only about a 1/2 mile from the trailhead. That's what I get for starting in the dark on an unfamiliar trail.

Summit looking north at the Willow Canyons. That's my definition of serenity.

Map and stats of the Deseret Peak Loop trail.

New BST on Mt. Olympus

Mt. Olympus has been the iconic trail for the OTM's since the beginning. Our mantra has always been: "If you can do Olympus, you can do anything." It is one of the most strenuous hikes around with most of the trail climbing straight up offering no respite. The first time I ever climbed Olympus was about 4 1/2 years ago and since then I have lost count how many times I summitted. Last Saturday I set a new record on my summit time, 1:37:14, breaking my last time by four minutes. And my round trip time, 2:41:57, breaking it by more than 20 minutes. I hope to be able to break 90 mins. to the summit one day. That mountain is brutal on the quads. I long for the day it won't leave me crying the next day as I attempt to climb the stairs at my house.

Map of the new Bonneville Shoreline Trail under Mt. Olympus.

As I ran the trail I noticed two new trails. I had heard that a new Bonneville Shoreline Trail was being constructed in the area, but had no real knowledge on the matter. So this morning I set out to explore the new trails. The only downside was that I had to do it alone in the dark. Not that I mind being alone or in the dark, it just would have been nice to see a bit more than my headlamp's toilet bowl vision. I started at 4:30 a.m. and on my time limits I was able to run from the Olympus trailhead to the Z trail connector on Thousand Oaks Drive. It was about three miles one way. I followed another offshoot that went up from the Z trailhead, but my time ran out. I hope it gets well tracked out in the winter, but there are some parts that could be extremely dangerous in the snow if one were to fall off the trail. It is extremely steep on some sides. I can't wait until more of the trail is finished connecting all the way to Draper because the Mt. Olympus trailhead is, so far, the closest to my house.

Access point #1 at the 3rd switchback on the Olympus trail. 

Access point #2 at the 5th switchback.