Wild Wild Wedge

By Steve

A few years ago, Davy Crockett wrote a blog post about a run he did on the rim of Utah's Little Grand Canyon at the San Rafael Swell.   Nine months later, and after weeks and weeks of tricky, slick snow miles, a few Wasatch Mountain Wranglers re-read that post in a different light, essentially summing it up as saying, "DUDE!  This 50k Wedge trail has no snow, no ice, and dry trails!  Oh yeah, and I guess there is a stunningly magnificent canyon along the side of the trail too."  So another annual group run of the Wasatch Mountain Wranglers was born.  The outing has now grown each year, with about 18 people showing up to run this year.

Last year, Sam went with about 7 others, and forever cemented for himself the label of a gut wrenching puker.  And having seen him clear out a restaurant with the sounds of absolute misery resonating out of the crapper, I would say it's a well earned title.  When we arrived, they instantly started making bets on when he would toss it all.  It's always nice to be known for something.  Sam said his goal this year was to eat more food.  And it didn't take too long before that plan backfired.

Near the front of the pack in the first half mile

We started around 8:00am, and stopped at about the half mile point to take some photos of people jumping out onto a ledge.  Generally, I tend to get a little restless waiting around for other people and would rather just go run.  This would be my theme for the day, as every time the group stopped for a minute, I would just start running again as soon as my legs and stomach were feeling up for it, which left me to run by myself for most of the course. But at this first stop, Craig Lloyd made the photo opp overlook more than worth while when he did a front flip out onto the ledge.

Craig.  Period.

Trent, Craig and myself around mile 4.

Selfie around mile 12-13

After that it was mile after mile of practically perfect running.   Sam's overfilled stomach forced him to slow a little while around mile 5, but that ended up being to our advantage, as he got some great photos across the canyon with him on one side and us on the other.  I stayed with the front group and was able to watch Chris Pope biff it and nearly tumble over the edge of the rim more than his fair share.  Around mile nine, we had laid out an aid station, and I stopped here and refilled my water.  Food, stomach, and energy wise, I was doing great, so I just took off running.  Craig and Jennilyn passed me before the turn around point, and a few others were close behind me, but overall I have to say I was pretty surprised that I was still up at the front of the group at that point.


Again, at the turnaround point, I didn't wait around for any others and just kept going by myself.  I finally passed Sam and he seemed to be in good spirits and feeling much better now, but he was about 3 miles behind me at that point, so we chatted for a second and went our ways. Another stop at the aid station at mile 23 and I was still near the front of the pack.  All was going great, until around mile 27, I came across Jennilyn laying on the side of the trail.

"Are you dead?"  was the first thing out of my mouth..
".... .... no.  Just napping."  She said as she slowly sat up.

Apparently, she had recently had the flu, and was feeling a bad wave of after-affects and tiredness from it.  After a fair amount of prodding she insisted that she was fine and was going to just sleep for a minute.  I knew that Scott and Matt were coming up the trail quickly, and due to the fact that she is a far more experienced backcountry runner than I am that I had to assume that she knew what she was doing. So with a lot of hesitation, I started out again.  After the run Jennilyn laughed and said she hardly remembered our conversation at all.

About a half mile after stopping with her, my knees were starting to give me some trouble.  As awesome as this trail is, there sure is a lot of winding, and as best I can figure, I was putting more torque on my knees than they were used to, especially after the long cold winter.  I slowed to a "walk a quarter, run a half mile" pace in order to make sure I didn't do any lasting injury.  During one of my walks, I saw two guys across the canyon, which was about 5 miles back on the trail, and hollered to them.  All of a sudden Sam hollered back.  We had a short conversation, which made me laugh at the prospect of chatting with someone 5 miles behind you on the trail.  You seriously can't beat this run.  After that chat, I meandered my way back to the after-party at the finish line, singing Big Rock Candy Mountain as I came in, finishing the course in 6 hours 22 minutes.  Sam came in about a hour later, finishing out a near perfect day for us.

Oh, and for all those with bets, Sam didn't puke.... at least that I saw.

Sam and I chatting on opposite sides of the canyon

Sam and I after chatting on opposite sides of the canyon

Midnight Monkeys

By Steve

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.