Sometimes when I sit at work, I think of possible big runs I would like to do. Usually it involves me sending my thoughts to Sam in an email. Then before I know it, he's discussed the idea with his wife and has responded with a resounding, "I'm in, let's meet at {such and such a time}" So, before I've fully thought through the idea for myself, I'm already facing a start time. While I'm still wondering if it is really a good idea, Sam is already lacing up his shoes. While I'm still analyzing how much time it will take, Sam is already packing his toilet paper... which never seems to make it back to the trail head anyway. Such was the case this last Friday.
I had missed my big Friday morning run, so I just tossed out the idea to Sam of meeting at Farmington Canyon after the kids were in bed, which would be around 9:00pm. He quickly abandoned his run planned for Saturday and was suddenly pushing me to make it happen. The idea was to run up Farmington Canyon to the Francis Peak road gate, and if there was any possibility of getting to Francis Peak without snowshoes, we'd try to make it. Before the work day was done, Sam was able to "Wrangle" up a little more interest through Facebook, getting Matt Van Horn, a Farmington native, to come along as well.
After a mile, the two guys who weren't me stopped to fertilize the sides of the road. I kept a steady pace till I started getting pretty cold. Around mile 7, the temperature had dropped into the teens, and I was considering turning back. I was under dressed for this excursion, and sadly, It was the same mistake I made on Ibapah in the Fall, which caused me back out before the summit. It's amazing how much being cold can destroy your motivation. This time however, I was carrying another layer Sam had given me at the trail head, and I threw it over without regard to stretching it, and quickly warmed up to the point where I was now excited to keep going. 
Sam and I reached the gate, (MVH turned back around mile 6 finishing up a 100 mile week) and were a little sad to see that Francis Peak road didn't even have a trace of footprints or tracks. We went a little farther up the Bountiful peak road, but turned back after a few good post holes past our knees.
There are moments when running that just stand out from all the rest. Running down the canyon that night was one of those moments.. 1:00 in the morning, running mile after mile down a packed snowy road. Our breath, lit up by the light from our headlamps, gathering around us as we take deep breaths of the cold winter air. Chatting away with a stinky ugly bearded guy, who makes surprisingly good company.
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