A Skyline Tall Tale

He let go.  While every child knows to hold on to the chains of a swing for dear life, holding on to a balloon string is a different story.  At the moment of release Sam darted and sprung into the air, only to just miss the string by a mere inch.   They both watched in dissapointment as the balloon drifted skyward.  As Winston began to cry, Sam said,,
"Look, it's going into the mountains.  Steve and I will get it for you."

Sam whipped his phone out of his pocket and within seconds, had me on the phone.
"Steve, lace up your running shoes..."

The balloon was last seen floating up Farmington canyon, so we met there before sunrise.  Sam squatted down and drew out a plan for the search in the dirt.  We then turned on our headlamps and headed up the canyon at a steady pace, enjoying the quiet sunrise as we slowly jogged up the canyon.  At 8 miles we arrived at the Skyline Gate.  Guarded by the spirits of injured trail monkeys of winters past, we knew that once we passed through the gate, we would have to traverse the entire skyline drive and descend out of the Bountiful side or risk other season ending injuries attempting to go back through the gate.  We bravely swallowed some Clif Bloks and headed through, knowing we couldn't dissapoint little Winston.

 

On our way to our next destination, Farmington Lake, we found the treasure we had been looking for!  Sam discovered the lost balloon hanging on an aspen.  Sam tucked the balloon safely into his pack, and with a sudden burst of energy, we continued our journy upward.  Soon we arrived at and passed Farmington Lake.  Then we arrived at the ridgeline and began the final ascent towards Bountiful summit.  We began looking for a side trail to take us off the road and to the summit, but we missed it.  Unfortunately, we didn't want to make a false summit, so we started descending towards Bountiful.

Just as we were deciding that we had missed our chance, we heard thunderous footsteps.  Running up Skyline drive towards us was none other than Raul Bunyon.  The often overlooked younger brother of Paul Bunyon.  One hundred feet tall if he was an inch.  From his lofty view, he could see which mountain was the summit.  We asked him if he would put a summit monkey up there for us, and with his long outstretched arm, reached out and placed a monkey there for us.   We thanked him and began our descent.

Nearing the bottom around mile 24, we were running low on water.  We knew we wouldn't make it the remaining 9 miles on the shoreline trail without some aid.  The I spotted it.  A giant wasp nest the size of a basketball was hanging just over what appeared to be a cooler full of Coke and water.  I bravely kicked the board from which it hung to the side and quickly grabbed the needed drinks.  The wasps began to swarm and we ran for our lives down the shoreline trail.  

With 8 miles still to go, and finally having excaped the wasps, we began running down the single track trail on the Bonneville Shoreline Trail.  However, it wasn't long before The owner of the drinks suddenly realized that we had taken some of his precious Coke and the next thing we knew, we were running down hill avoiding bullets.  The shots were close.  Very close.  And just as we thought we were about to make it to safety, Sam cried out that his pack had been hit.  He was leaking salt at an extraordinary rate.  I looked and sure enough, both of his shoulder straps were already turning white.  We knew if we didn't hurry to safety, Sam wouldn't make it. 

I pushed and prodded him as best I could, but it was starting to look like he wasn't going to make it.  We passed Parrish Lane, Ricks Canyon, and finally Davis Creek Trailhead.  But it was no use.  With only 2 miles to go, the Salt had bled out of Sam to the point where he couldn't make it up any more hills.  I begged to stay with him, but he insisted that I get the balloon back to Winston.  I knew he was right.  With sadness in my heart, I left him behind and took the balloon.  I lenghthened my stride and finished the last two miles strong.   Then, with one last glimpse of hope, I drove back to the location I had last seen Sam, hoping against hope that he would still be alive. 

His lifeless body lay on the sidewalk.  Salt stains covered his shirt pack.  I lowered my head and wept over the loss, but in my heart I knew that we had done the right thing.  With one last glipse of hope, I poured the last of my poweraid on his pale face, and waited for a response.  Then, a smile slowly began to spread across his face.

 

The End.

Spartan Beasts - By Andrew and Jake

Andrew brought his game face.

I was lucky enough to do the Utah Spartan Beast for the second year in a row, but this time I brought along a different running buddy to tear up the course with me.  My son Andrew entered the Spartan kids race, and so we've given him the highest honor we know....we've dubbed him a full fledged Orange Trail Monkey.  Or at least I have.  I'll have to check with the other OTMs to get this cleared.  Here's his report on the Spartan race, which is infinitely more interesting than what I would report on, which mainly would consist of how hot it was, how crowded the trail was, and the backlogged nightmare walk that made up about 3 miles of the course in which you couldn't run but had to trek along with the herd in a single-filed-traffic-jammed trail.  So I'm mailing in the Spartan Race Report and instead letting Andrew tell you all about a truly awesome race day:

After the race and the showers

When we were driving up to the Spartan Race I felt excited and nervous because it was my first Spartan race.  The Spartan Race is a 12 mile long military obstacle race it’s very, very muddy. The Junior Spartan is a one mile race with smaller obstacles (that are not as dangerous) for kids under 12 years old.  I was excited for this race because I knew it would be hard and I knew it would be fun, and I didn’t know any other kids who had done it before.  When the race was about to begin, I was so happy and scared, my heart was pounding out of my chest.  I was all by myself because my dad was running in the adult Spartan Race.  But I knew I could do it.  And I knew it was going to be awesome and dirty.

  

Before the shower

After the shower

Once you start running, the first obstacle you run into was wooden towers that you had to climb over.  Next were some skinny planks that were elevated off the ground, and you had to walk across them without falling off.  If you fell off you had to redo it.  After that you had to army crawl underneath wires, but the ground wasn’t just dirt, it was SOOOO muddy.  My white shirt turned brown.  My white socks and underwear were turned brown too.  Then there these huge mud hills you had to climb, slide down the other side of the mounds into waist deep mud puddles.  I even jumped down one of these and splashed into the mud puddle.  Now you were not just muddy, you were soaking in mud.  Then there was a long run up a hill, and down a hill, with some more mounds of dirt, and wooden board towers to climb over, and then you ran past the start and got to do the whole thing again.  It was so cool.

After the race you had to shower with frozen water, which really wasn't a shower but just garden hoses that you sprayed your body with.  Even though we tried to get clean there was still mud everywhere, even after we got home.

The hardest obstacle on the kids’ course was running up hill in the super summer heat.  Like my friend McKinley says, “Oh my gosh freakin heck!”  (She’s only 2!)  My favorite part of the kids’ obstacle course was getting SUPER muddy.  I loved running in this race because it was a great experience, it was challenging, fun, oh my gosh freakin heck awesome, and I want to do it again next year and maybe even some day do the full Spartan Race with my Dad.

Tired, cut, muddy, and bruised but not broken!  WE ARE SPARTANS!  AROOO!

Summer Trail Series 5: Umstead Park, Raleigh, NC

Sycamore Trail in Umstead Park.

Deer at Umstead.

This past week my wife had a conference in Raleigh, NC. She has to travel for conferences periodically and when possible I get to go too. We try to make a vacation out of it. My main role during this trip was babysitter, but I also had a chance to get out on some trails. I was afraid there wouldn't be any trails so I only packed for the pavement but Google told me where to find the trails and a local trail running group. The only problem was getting there. Umstead Park was about 11 miles from the hotel. First, I asked the group if anyone was willing to pick me up. However, they turned me down. I guess they thought that was too weird or creepy. Of course they're right...I am a little creepy sometimes. :) Actually, there was this nice fellow that offered to pick me up until he found out it would be a 40 mile round trip route to get me and then return me afterward. I actually think he would have done it, but ultimately I decided to get a rental car. Less creepy, and no hassle or inconvenience for anyone.

Map of the Company Mill and Sycamore Trails in Umstead Park, Raleigh, NC

Dense forest.

Umstead Park seemed to be the only place to run trails near Raleigh, that I'm aware of anyway. This is a little mind boggling to me. Anyone who's been to the east coast knows that the entire thing is basically one enormous forest, where they clear the trees to build stuff. That's much different than the desert, here in Utah, where they plant the trees next to the stuff they built. Anyway, one would think there would be more places with trails. Maybe there are, maybe there aren't. Either way, Umstead Park is absolutely gorgeous with loads of single track running through dense forest. I never saw the sun. Well, it was overcast and it did rain, but I wouldn't have seen the sun anyway.

Mill Stone on The Company Mill Trail.

I had two reasons for joining the group on this run. First, I wanted to associate with some of the local trail runners and second I didn't want to get lost (not that I was worried about getting lost, I would have gone by myself if I had to). There were about 20 of us that met at 7:30 a.m. A few of them complained about the early start, which I inwardly laughed at since many of my runs start as early as 4:00 a.m. to avoid the heat or go the distance. There were short introductions which included name and planned distance, then we were unceremoniously started on The Company Mill Trail. I started off in the middle of the pack but quickly made my way to the lead group. The terrain was similar to most mountain trails, rocks, roots, mud, creeks...etc. But overall, the ground was much softer than what I'm used to. It was nice.



The group was very conscious about keeping track of people. We ran two miles to a cross road then stopped for a time and waited until the middle pack showed up and took count. Then we picked it up again until the next cross road. The lead group kept a fast pace of 7.5 - 8:00 min. miles that I'm not used to maintaining on the trail. Elevation is the main game changer in Utah, but I didn't fall too far behind. We finished the loop at about 5.8 miles and I chatted a bit with some of the people. After most everyone had made their way back I inquired about a side trail I saw and made known my intention to go back and hit it. No one was interested in doubling their mileage, so I said my goodbyes and set back out by myself.

While traveling alone I overheard the following conversation with myself:

"Dude, you hear that?"
"Hear what?"
"The pitter patter of rain."
"Um...yep, you afraid we're gonna get wet?"
(Laughter)
"Too late for that!"

Trail Monkey.

North Carolina is basically at sea level, which means humidity and lots of it. It only took about 15 minutes before I was thoroughly soaked with sweat. I didn't even know I could sweat in some places. I might as well have gone swimming for how wet I was. So bring on the rain, it made no difference. Well, I guess it did keep it cooler. The only thing worse than humidity is when it's accompanied with heat. I finished the Sycamore loop and turned back, finishing with 13.6 miles. Umstead was awesome, I'd go back any day, and every day if I lived in town.




My hotel was within a mile of the Greenway Trail, a paved parkway running along the Crabtree Creek. I was fortunate enough to get another 10 mile run along that trail another day. There's something magical about running under a canopy of trees. Here are some pictures.

Map of the Greenway Trail from the Midtown Hilton.

Summer Trail Series 4 - Exploring Lewis

Selfie at the overlook.

Today I decided to check out the trail that leads from Pineview Reservoir up to Lewis Peak.  The skyline marathon covers this section on its last major downhill section.  This trail is similar to the Ben Lomond trail from the North Ogden divide in that mountain and dirt bikes can ride up it.  And if a dirt bike can ride up it, I have to run up it.  Of the 21 miles today, I was able to run more than 20 of it.  Yup... pretty sweet.

After reaching the ridge at about 7 and a quarter miles, I took the route to go south to the Ogden Canyon overlook.  It sits right on top of some pretty good sized cliffs.   As I was coming back, I realized I would need a few more miles to reach 20 for the trip, so I detoured over and tagged Lewis Peak again.

I saw a lot of moose prints in the dust on the trail, but no moose attached to them.  Other than that, the trip was fun and yet pretty uneventful.

Lewis Peak map from Pineview.  Ogden Canyon Overlook from Pineview.

1 mile into the trail above Pineview Reservoir

The trail, with Ogden Canyon Overlook in the
middle of the photo.  Mount Ogden is directly
behind the overlook.

S.T.S. 3.2 - Sampling the Great Western Trail over Thurston

Thurston Peak Map, Initial Miles of Wasatch 100 map

Summit Monkey on Thurston Peak

After excusing myself from the run up Sessions, I needed to go get some miles.  I usually try to avoid doing any long runs on Saturdays because it usually leaves me too tired and grumpy the rest of the day to get anything done around the house.

Kid:  "Daddy, can you get me another popsicle and sucker and maybe a chocolate milk after you lay down again?"

Me (yelling):  "Why don't you go get ME a juicebox kid!"

However, because I spent all week with family and friends for the 4th of July, I headed out for a 5 hour adventure, promising the wife i'd be home by noon, and also promising to have a smiley face the rest of the day.

I had planned a route starting from the Fernwood trailhead and followed what was labeled as the Bonneville Shoreline Trail all the way straight up the mountain.  I'm not sure what this trail is, but it follows the ridge to the North of the South Fork Kays Creek.  I had a suspicion that this was the start of the Wasatch 100 ultra-marathon, but didn't bother to actually find out for sure.  I found out later the Wasatch 100 follows the much less steep Great Western Trail one canyon to the North.

From just below Thurston Peak looking South along the
ridgeline.  I also tagged the closest two subpeaks.

Great Western Trail.  How's that for a run-able trail at 9,000'?

The climb up this trail was very steep.  And at the final 600 feet up the mountain, the trail dissappeared.  I wasn't smart enough to follow the yellow ribbons used to mark some sort of faint trail through the shrubs to the ridgeline.  That was where I met up with the Great Western Trail at the ridgeline and the running stopped being hard, and became choice. It was smooth sailing along the trail at 9,000' which winds back and forth across the rolling peaks and saddles and stays at a fairly even elevation through the cool mountain air.

Knowing beforehand that the trail doesn't hit the Thurston summit, I picked out a fairly defined wash, and went straight up it to the summit.  Very steep, but it was the perfect route. After resting,  I decided to see how many sub-peaks I could tag on my way towards Francis Peak.  I tagged the first two, spending about 3 minutes on each of them, hurdled a rattlesnake coming down from the 2nd, and then went for a third.  Knowing I was short on time, I decided to skip that third summit and see the longer saddle which is roughly the halfway point between Thurston and Francis.  I was just a hair past 3 hours into my run and knew I had to make it down in 2 in order to get home by noon, so I turned back.

Staying on the trail the whole way back, I made much better time than I had expected.  I got back to the trailhead in 1 hour 40 minutes.  Just as I was pulling out my keys and stopping my GPS, I got a message from Sam, who had been following my run online, that I still had 15 minutes and had to keep going.  So, I strapped my pack back on and ran another 1.5 miles on the shoreline trail.   Sam is destined to be a track coach

Sessions Adventure Run: Slippery When Wet

Matt Ricks and Me on Sessions Peak looking North along the Wasatch.

Summit Monkey.

Today's run was truly and adventure. It was Steve's idea to hit Grandview Peak, then he bailed on me. Luckily, Matt Ricks, a fellow Wrangler joined me this morning. Actually, I was unfamiliar with the trails so I joined him.  We started at 4:30 a.m. at the Sessions Trailhead and ran up the Sessions Mountains until we hit what the locals call Sessions Peak, which is different from the Sessions Mountain just to the north (which I thought was Sessions Peak). Everything was new to me except the last four miles, and apparently after summitting Sessions Peak everything was new to Matt as well. Time was short so we weren't able to tag Grandview, however we might as well have since we missed a turnoff and added three miles to our adventure. We still had a great time, despite getting soaked and somehow avoiding falling several times from slipping on rocks, mud and brush. I'll let the photos tell the rest of the story.

Map of Sessions Mountain.

Matt, on his way up.

The Crags.

Grandview, taunting us.

Matt in the Aspen Grove.

"Don't go into the long grass." 

View of the Bountiful Temple.

A Letter to Mt. Raymond

Mt. Raymond.

Jens.

Mr. Raymond,

Two weeks ago you got the best of me. You were so inviting as I looked upon your heights. But alas, I had to hang my head down in shame and descend to my lowly station. However, I returned with high hopes of prostrating myself on the slabs of your loftiness. My timing was bleak so I pushed forward, leaving the company of my companion.

Summit Monkey.

As I crested your saddle, you laughed in my face, but I only glimpsed your smile. Suddenly, a voice from the air cried out with discouraging discourse. "Eat pez" and "you won't make it to the summit... turn back now." But even the words of the wind could not dissuade my determination.

Onward. Upward. Over the deceiving pinnacles of the lackeys at your feet. Onward. Upward. At last, your crown was within reach.

Me on the summit.

Success! Your promontory peak now below me. You may have bested me first, but now you wallow under the dust of my shoe. Now, with reckless abandon, I must return again to the lowly valley. But not defeated. Today I stood tall on the apex of rock and time. Until we meet again, my friend, Mt. Raymond.

Map of Mt. Raymond via Butler Fork.

Meanwhile back in the Valley on the car ride home:

Jens: "Dude, I can't find my phone."
Sam: "Dude!!!!!!"
(sounds of maniacal cackling in the distance, coming from Mt. Raymond.)
Sam: "Did you hear that?"
Jens: "Hear what? My phone must have fallen out somewhere."
Sam: "It could be anywhere...it probably fell out when you biffed it right after I told you not to fall. That's only about 3/4 of a mile from the trail head. I gotta get home now, but we can go back up later today."
(more laughter)
Jens: "Ok, sounds good."

Blue dot = me. Purple dot = Jens' phone.

2:00 p.m. 100 degrees in the Valley.


Jens and I hike up to where he biffed it and search for his phone, but to no avail. With the help of modern technology and the Find Friends App. (luckily we had enough service one mile up to download the app) and the help of Jens' wife, whom we will call Mama Monkey, we were able to locate the phone. It was up on the saddle. Raymond, you sly dog. I got the best of you today and that wasn't ok. You had to bite at my heels?


Jens and I assessed the situation. We did not prepare ourselves for practically another full ascent. I brought no gear, no water, nada. It was 100 degrees and we were sweating in the shade like pigs in the mud. But we were there. Why wait? Why come back another time? So, we set out to retrieve the lost phone. I ran ahead of Jens and was feeling pretty good. I was sweating profusely but I didn't feel dehydrated. Luckily I had downed a full Powerade on the ride up. Why not test my limits? A double! Why not?

Jen's phone, right off the trail where he  
biffed it a little above the saddle.

Again voices came to me on the wind. "Is it fear or courage that motivates you?" and, "so...very...thirsty." and, "It's too freaking hot." and "find a stream higher up or eat some snow...or drink your urine." and finally, "you are going to die...and a coyote will eat your corpse." Once again, I paid no heed to Raymond's voice in the wind. I only let it motivate me to move forward.

So, after much sweating, dry mouth, and another round of dusty trail running I found the phone and headed down. Yet again I was up against a deadline. I had to be home by 5:00 p.m. to teach a trombone lesson. If I had about 25 more minutes I would have summitted again, but alas. I think Raymond and I are at a stalemate. I will see you under my dusty feet again.

We need rain!