The diary of a Colorado-mountain-endurance-junkie and his trail runs in the Rockies.
May 26: Who
needs water? Green Mountain via Bear Canyon
June 2: Where's that water? Bear Peak via Fern
Canyon and Beyond
June 9: Four summits... Or five with Bear Peak
repeats?
June 16: Niwot Ridge
June 24: Fila SkyMarathon in Aspen
June 30: Quintuple Scorcher in Boulder
July 15: Boreas Pass
July 20: Colorado Trail-Breck, Copper, Frisco
July 29/30: XTERRA / Marshall Mesa
August 4: Magnolia
May
26, 2001
Who needs water?
Green Mountain via Bear Canyon
Summer is here, at least in my state of mind even if the solstice is still a month away. This is the first installment of a summer trail run diary for Rocky Mountain Runner. After being away from the Rockies the past two summers-I spent '99 in Alaska and '00 in Paris-I am yearning to get into the mountains as much as possible and to the top of as many peaks as I can. That means trail running! There's no better way to explore and seek out adventure.
I ran into Buzz Burrell last week and he told me about a trail run he had planned in the Canyonlands. It inspired me and I decided to embark on my own series of epic trail runs for the summer. I laid out my rules: Once a week I would do a long trail run into territory I don't go on a daily basis. The route should encompass major vertical climb and entail a spirit of adventure while allowing me to simply get away and enjoy the mountains.
I tend to be impetuous on my runs, often letting my feet decide where they want to take me. Although visions of Buzz's run in the Canyonlands planted a seed for the future and hopes of running sections of the Colorado Trail and several peaks this summer are on the agenda, I thought I would start out close to home (especially since I don't have a car and will need to arrange transportation for those runs as the snow melts in the high country.)
I decided my first run would be an easy, short run from my home-the world headquarters of Rocky Mountain Runner-near Table Mesa and Broadway in Boulder. It's always nice to run from home and fortunately I only have to put up with ten minutes of pavement before reaching the dirt below NCAR.
I ran up Table Mesa, veered off the road to the right and headed up Skunk Canyon to the Mesa Trail. This area is where I frequently run, but I don't usually go up Green Mountain on a daily basis. So I ran south along the Mesa to the turn-off for Bear Canyon and started up the canyon going west.
There's something about the mindset of being close to home and knowing I wouldn't be gone too long. Add to that the fact that I hate carrying things when I run and the temperature seemed mild enough to be out for a couple of hours without water. So believe it or not, I drank before I left the house and went out for my run without a water bottle-I suppose I knew the route would be easy enough and might as well throw in a confounding factor.
As I ran up Bear Canyon, sweat dripped from my body and the sun heated up the temperature. I crossed over several rushing streams and wished I had my water bottle-filter, I'd never be caught without it on longer forays.
At the top of Bear Canyon I turned south and headed up the trail to Green Mountain. A nice breeze cooled things off and I knew my body had enough water stored to get me through to the ranger station down at Chautauqua Park. By the way, here's my disclaimer: Don't try this at home-as I tell athletes that I have coached, be sure to take in water and sports drink if you're out longer than an hour, let alone longer than 90 minutes in warm temperatures.
I ran/hiked up the slopes to the top of Green Mountain (8,144 feet), took a few minutes to admire the surrounding vistas along with the crowd of hikers at the top-another busy weekend in Boulder where the Mountain Parks have more annual users than Yellowstone-and continued north down the EM Greenman Trail to Saddle Rock, the Ampitheater, and along Baseline Trail to the ranger station and a waiting drinking fountain.
I slurped up some cool water and headed across the green grass field, skirted by the auditorium and headed up the Enchanted Mesa Trail and made my way over to and then down the dirt road behind NIST, across the bottom of Skunk Canyon and back home where I drank a half gallon of apple juice to no avail. It promptly left my system without going through my kidneys, if you know what I mean. I was deficient in sodium-hyponatremia-which impeded the uptake of the liquid in my intestine. It was a textbook experiment in dehydration, one that was good to get out of the way early on. I wouldn't make the same mistake next time.
June
2, 2001
Where's that water?
Bear Peak via Fern Canyon and Beyond
Today I did another run close to home, eager to run more of the peaks in my backyard. I started out from the world headquarters of Rocky Mountain Runner and headed up to NCAR, skirting off the road to the left and up to the Mesa Trail to catch up with Fern Canyon. I decided to head up to Bear Peak via the steep Fern Canyon trail then see where my feet wanted to go from there.
This time, I left home with my filter-bottle, two Clif Bars, and a salt tablet. My post-breakfast reading/digestion time stretched longer than anticipated and by the time I left the house it was well on its way to the high of 85 degrees that the DJ on KBCO had announced. I was prepared, though.
At least I thought I was. Since I wouldn't need any water immediately into my run, I started off with an empty bottle. I planned on simply filling it up from a stream on my way up to Bear Peak. The only problem was I didn't run across any water in Fern Canyon.
I scrambled to the top of 8,461-foot Bear Peak where bugs swarmed my sweat-drenched body. I scooted around the crowd of people hanging out there and dropped down the south side of Bear Peak and started up South Boulder Peak, yearning for water. I knew I needed to get some water soon and heading up another peak would only delay that. As far as I knew I'd have to get back down to the Mesa Trail and hope to find water trickling down from a slope or even wait until I could go up Bear Canyon in search of the streams that were so plentiful last week when I didn't have my filter-bottle.
I dropped down Shadow Canyon. Cooler and less crowded, I enjoyed the easy descent. It seems trail runs can be divided into two separate workouts: You have the heart-pounding cardio workout from going uphill, then you have the muscle-burning strength workout from going downhill. It's a nice division of labor and each is a welcome break from the other when you get to it. Trail running is a well-rounded effort.
Near the bottom of Shadow Canyon, I finally ran across a trickling stream flowing out of moss-covered rocks beneath ferns. I stopped dead in my tracks and smiled as I exclaimed, "Water!"
I drank a few bottles worth and left with a full bottle to continue down to the Mesa Trail. I took some of my salt tablet and life was good. I could have made it to the top of South Boulder Peak, after all. It's nice to leave something for another time, though.
I joined up with the Mesa Trail and headed north to Shanahan Ridge. I was getting too close to home and needed to extend the run some more. I headed up Shanahan Ridge until it met Fern Canyon, making a nice loop. A hiker that saw me going up earlier asked, "Weren't you already here?"
Just running in circles, I guess. I stopped at another stream, just before meeting up with Fern Canyon. If only I had known it was so close when I headed up Fern Canyon earlier! I refilled my water after having finished off the salt tablet and a Clif Bar and pulled out a white, Cool-Max shirt, soaked it in the stream and put it on my hot skin. Refreshing! I did the same with my hat and I felt like I could continue on for the rest of the day, maybe another climb to the top of Bear Peak?
Instead, my legs wanted to stride out a bit. So I ran north along the Mesa Trail and to Chautauqua via the McClintock Trail, then up the Enchanted Mesa to Skunk Canyon and back home. A nice outing on a beautiful day and I finished feeling fresh, hydrated, and ready for more. I love summer!
June
9, 2001
Four summits...
Or five with Bear Peak repeats?
Today I completed a tour of Boulder's mountain backdrop-South Boulder Peak (8,549 feet), Bear Peak (8,461 feet), Green Mountain (8,144 feet) and Flagstaff Mountain.
I started off by catching the first Skip of the morning near Table Mesa and Broadway and rode it up to Shanahan Ridge. No need to start off with an uninteresting climb on pavement to my starting point, I figured. I knew the run would be long enough anyway.
I got off the bus and started off along the trail that caught up with the Big Bluestem to the Mesa Trail. My pack-this week loaded with my FULL filter-bottle, two additional seven-ounce water flasks, four Clif Bars, and two salt tablets-bounced on my hip, heavy and annoying. I wanted to start off well hydrated and fueled, though, and I put up with the burden as I ran an easy, relaxed pace to the mouth of Shadow Canyon.
I found the Shadow Canyon Trail and refilled my bottle in the stream at the bottom. I knew it would be the last water source I may see for a while. I ran through the ferns and over the rocks lined with shade up the steep trail to the saddle at the top-the fork between South Boulder Peak and Bear Peak.
I turned left and climbed to the summit of South Boulder Peak. Easy enough. I sat on a rock at the summit and ate my first Clif Bar and readjusted my socks. A welcome breeze cooled things off and light cloud cover made the temperature very comfortable, a nice contrast to the forecasted high of 90 degrees down in Boulder.
I retied my shoes and glided down to the saddle and then up the west ridge to Bear Peak. Bug Peak, it should be called. Everytime I've been to the top of Bear Peak, pesky flies and gnats have swarmed me. I'm not sure what conditions make the summit such a hospitable and welcoming place for the bugs.
I didn't waste much time at the summit and started back down. Bear Peak West Ridge? Yes, I thought, that's what I want. Then I doubled back and headed down the Fern Canyon Trail thinking I would be able to hook up with the trail to Green Mountain from there. I descended the steep top of Bear Peak and was into Fern Canyon when I realized that I mistakenly had the Bear Peak Trail in mind.
But I wasn't on the Bear Peak Trail, I was on the Fern Canyon Trail and if I continued, I would have to descend all the way down the steep grade to the Mesa Trail and then re-climb up the entire Bear Peak Trail to get to Green Mountain. Not what I had originally planned. I simply wanted to run the ridge between the mountains. A momentary lapse of reason when I jumped onto the Fern Canyon Trail at the top of Bear Peak.
I chalked it up to the unexpected challenge for this run. Every epic trail run has at least one. That's why they're more than runs. They're adventures! The aspects of running, mountaineering, self-sufficiency, judgment, endurance, strength…and covering large chunks of mountainous terrain quickly and lightly-all reasons why I love mountain running!
I turned around and re-climbed to the summit of Bear Peak where I caught up with the West Ridge Trail. Several hikers looked in wonderment as I passed them again on the way up. Hill repeats up Bear Peak?
I figured my mistake should count as another summit since I had descended far enough below the peak before turning around and making another climb-five summits, then-albeit a crazy way to do it-I figured for my run.
No sweat. I headed down the West Ridge Trail, feeling pretty good, although having wasted a fair amount of time repeating Bear Peak.
The trail leveled out and was a smooth run across the ridge, giving me a chance to stretch out my legs. Before the turn-off to the summit of Green Mountain, I found a cool stream and refilled my bottle before beginning the uphill to Green. The well-maintained trail took me to the top. Sweaty and smelly, I joined the crowd of hikers at the summit, took in the panorama and then headed down the Green Mountain West Ridge.
The trail provided a gentle downhill over even terrain and spit me out onto Flagstaff Road. I ran along the gravel shoulder down the road for a few miles until I caught up with the trail to the overlook.
I got to the Flagstaff overlook and took advantage of the water pump to refill my flasks and soak my hat and shirt. The sun had come out in full strength and the temperature was feeling closer to that predicted high the lower I got.
I had one Clif Bar left and I gobbled it down while descending the Flagstaff Trail. Earlier, I had thoughts of continuing north to Sanitas, but I was running out of time, fuel, and fresh legs. If I did that, I would need to catch the bus home, but I had no money nor bus ticket since I hadn't planned on pursuing Sanitas in my original plans.
There must have been a good reason for that. Tired and ready to get home, I reached Chautauqua-the temperature hot and the park packed with people, all with more energy than I had, playing and enjoying the summer day.
I ran behind the auditorium, up the McClintock Trail and over to the Enchanted Mesa where I hooked up with Kohler Mesa and took it down into Skunk Canyon to Table Mesa and down the road to home sweet home.
There are definite advantages to ending a long, trail run at home-namely, the waiting shower and food!
Famished, I refreshed and refueled.
And next week… Well, it appears I've exhausted the runs from my home for the time being and I'll be ready to get up higher and away from Boulder for another epic, albeit shorter, run.
June
16, 2001
Niwot Ridge
I worked out some transportation for my weekend runs and thus headed up to the CU Mountain Research Station with my roommate's car, glad to escape the heat in Boulder. Today would be a straightforward, somewhat short run, but it would take me above tree line!
I wasn't feeling quite recovered from last week's run and had signed up for the Aspen Fila SkyMarathon for next weekend, so I didn't want to go into that totally wrecked. I'm not sure about racing on the trails-trail runs are something to be savored and done in solitude, with no worry of time hanging over the event. But I have been curious about the Fila SkyMarathon series and suggested it to a friend who then convinced me to pay the money to do the race. You can't beat a weekend in Aspen, at any rate!
So today I parked the car at the CU Mountain Research Station and headed up the Niwot Ridge Trail into the Biosphere Reserve. It's a straightforward jeep road used by research vehicles that eventually turns into a trail that leads to the tundra ridge overlooking Lake Isabelle and Long Lake to the north, Lake Albion and the city of Boulder watershed to the south.
My original plan was to catch a trail that would drop me down the north side of the ridge to Long Lake and then back up to the ridge and back to the car. However, I missed the trail-and didn't see it on my way back either-and ended up running all the way up the ridge until I couldn't go any further unless I wanted to climb the 12,284 foot peak in front of me. The wind whipped hard on the exposed ridge and I merely had a long-sleeve shirt, no jacket to stop it. I had no intention of climbing a peak today. My food and water were low. I took some moments to take in the surrounding views-Lefthand Reservoir, Brainard Lake below-before turning around and making the descent down the trail.
I had hoped to open it up a bit going down and once I got back to the jeep road, past the steep parts of the trail, I was able to stride out and flew back to the parking lot in no time at all. I arrived at the car and although I didn't think I could call this run an epic trail adventure, I had a sufficient workout and was ready to head back down the Peak-to-Peak Highway and back to Boulder where I got in the swimming pool to loosen up my legs.
The basics of the run: Starting point-9,500 feet. High point-12,100 feet. Distance-around 11 miles.
June 24, 2001
Fila SkyMarathon
After last week's short long-run and an easy week, I felt pretty good as we left Boulder Saturday and headed to Aspen for the Fila SkyMarathon.
We took in the beauty of the Maroon Bells and set up camp down the road from them for a weekend of perfect weather in one of the most fabulous settings in Colorado.
The early morning dusk roused me from my bivy sack around 5:15am-time to get up and prepare for the SkyMarathon. Breakfast. Stretches. And the drive to the end of the canyon road near Ashcroft, an old mining settlement outside of Aspen.
By the time race started at 8:00am, the sun had made its way over the canyon walls-no worries about being cold today. The weather held beautifully and a racing singlet would be all that was needed on 13,000-plus feet Taylor Peak.
The race started out with a short out-and-back up a jeep road, only the shortness of it lengthened after the field of racers missed the turn-around and kept going up, up, up before common sense and glances at watches said it was time to turn-around. Nothing like starting off a 17-mile trail race with an extra mile or so of a detour. Just an extra warm-up, I told myself.
I took off my shirt underneath the Fila race-number singlet and left it at the first aid station-at the race start-when we passed it at the end of the first out-and-back. I was sweating buckets, but still had a vest tucked in the back pocket of the singlet, not wanting to temp fate on a 13,000 foot peak.
Switchbacks led up to the talus and scree fields and the scramble to the tundra ridge leading to the peak's summit. Going up the switchbacks, I followed Dave Mackey off the road onto a single track trail heading nowhere. Orange flags marked the turn-off, only they weren't markings from the race. I turned around with a few others and got back on track, following the jeep road up more switchbacks. Mackey kept going but finally made his way back and caught up to me further up the jeep road. We ran together to the scree and I felt strong on the climb.
Here's where the racing on the trails gets you-I passed the second aid station and the last for five miles (until the other side of the summit) and gulped a cup of Gatorade and a cup of water to wash down the Power Gel I ate. A half-mile up the road, I was still thirsty and that next aid station seemed far away.
Still, I felt strong and climbed to the tundra and started up the ridge toward Taylor Peak. That's when I started to get close the state of bonking. The weather on Taylor Peak was beautiful and the views stunning, although being in a race, I didn't focus much on either. I reached the turn-around point just below the summit and headed back down the rocky tundra of the ridge. That's when my knees screamed pain, especially my left one.
I had twisted my knee so much on the rocky talus coming up that now it had no desire to bear the weight of a fast-pounding descent. On top of that, my thirst increased and all I had was one more Power Gel to get my bonking self down to the next aid station. I picked up handfuls of snow as I descended the ridge and crossed the plateau leading to Taylor Pass. It sufficed to wash down the gel and got me down to the jeep road for the final descent.
This is the difference between trail running and trail racing, I realized. On the climb, I concerned myself only with elapsed time and blocked out the cues that I would have been fully aware of during a relaxed trail run by myself-the need for more water at the last aid station and the need to be more agile on the talus to save my knee for the descent.
I arrived at the jeep road on Taylor Pass, the point I had before the race decided would be where I opened up my stride and cranked down to the finish, like I had done on Niwot Ridge the previous week. Instead, I went the same speed down as I had gone up.
I stopped at the third station, famished, sat down and ate a GatorBar, drank some Gatorade and water and took in a CarbBoom. The sitting felt good on my knees and when I got back up they felt good for about a half mile before the aching pain came back. My left medial knee and my right patellar tendon.
I finished off the run at an easy jaunt down the steep, rocky road and got to the finish glad to be done running.
There was one thing left to do, though-walk the two miles back up the main road to where we started and had left the car. I started off at a gingerly pace and slowly walked up the road trying to loosen up my knee while I poked my thumb out at cars of tourists driving by-to no avail. I've never had any luck hitching a ride on dead-end roads, a strange phenomenon that I've never understood.
As I resolved to walk the final distance on my own feet-I felt it had to have been around the next corner, corner after corner-Dave Mackey pulled over on his way back from the start area and I was glad to accept a ride the last half-mile up to the road's end.
Although I still prefer to run the trails rather than race them, races do provide certain benefits. The SkyMarathon provided a great destination run with a marked and supported course. It's always nice to leave the pack at home.
June
30, 2001
Quintuple Scorcher in Boulder
The Fourth of July is Wednesday and the weather shows it! I returned from my run today and found the recorded temperature to be 96 degrees. I had no transportation to the mountains this weekend, so decided to do another multi-peak run from my home in Boulder, probably the last of the summer. I hope to be at higher and cooler elevations during July and August.
I missed my alarm at 7:00 and rolled out of bed at 7:15 this morning. I knew I wanted to be rested for today's run, but I also knew the earlier the start in this heat, the better. An 8:30 start wasn't ideal, but I figured it would be hot no matter what, even if I had started at 6:00.
I left my home near Table Mesa and Broadway in Boulder and ran up Gillespie road, past the South Boulder Rec Center and Fairview High and up to Shanahan Ridge. There I joined the trail and cut across the open space to the Mesa Trail and made my way to the mouth of Shadow Canyon.
I drained my water bottle along the way, but knew there would be a water source waiting for me at the mouth of Shadow Canyon.
When I arrived at the trickling stream that crossed the trail, I was greeted by my beloved water source, the last one until the west ridge below Green Mountain, and my link to survival in the dry, hot weather… I was greeted with two dogs wrestling right smack dab in the middle of it, churning up the water into a stew of muddy turbidity. Aargh! I thought. I stepped into the ferns above the turbid pool, dogs still turning it into the unthinkable, and searched for a substantial enough trickle to fill my water bottle. No luck.
I'm screwed, I thought. My only hope would be to go up the trail a few hundred meters and hope that another spot I knew about hadn't completely dried up in the summer heat. The dogs had already headed up the trail and I quickly put my bottle back in my pack and ran up the steep trail, passed the dogs and hikers and made it to the next spot to search for water.
Yes! I sucked some water out of the barely substantial trickle, drank a few bottles worth and filled up one for the road, uh trail, just as the dogs joined me at the spot.
I left them behind and headed up Shadow Canyon, drenched with sweat and glad to be out of the full glare of the sun and in the shade of the lush canyon.
I summited South Boulder Peak (8,549 feet) and stood on the top with nobody else around. I made some adjustments to my shoes and pack and sucked down a PowerGel before descending back down to the saddle and then up to Bear Pear (8,461).
The bugs swarmed as usual on Bear Peak and I summited the empty peak and turned around without stopping. I ran down the Bear Peak West Ridge and joined up with the Green Mountain West Ridge.
Water. A real stream and my second water source. I replenished and ate-Clif Bar and salt tablet-and ascended Green Mountain (8,144 feet) with a surge of energy.
All during the run, I told myself I would just do these three peaks and then run home via Chautauqua and Skunk Canyon. But I did remember to put a bus ticket in my pack this time and as the run went on, I felt stronger and stronger.
By the time I joined the throngs of hikers at the top of Green Mountain, I had decided to continue north and eventually just catch the bus back home at the end of my run.
In every epic trail run there is a point when it turns from a run into an adventure. I descended Green Mountain and ran down Ranger Trail. At the end of Ranger Trail, I had two choices-left/up or right/down. A fly bit me and I leaped to the left/up. At that point the run entered into the adventure territory.
I climbed up the shallow graded single-track of Long Canyon and was finally spit out onto Flagstaff Road. I ran down the road to the turn-off for the overlook and ran up to the top where I refreshed myself at the potable water pump. Aahhhh!
The temperature was hot, but I soaked my white Cool-Max shirt and put it over my hot skin and did the same with my white hat and pulled it low over my forehead to keep the sun off my face.
I descended the Flagstaff Trail and veered north toward the Panoramic Overlook and down the front side of the mountain to Eben Fine Park. I drank in more water at the water fountain at the park and headed over Red Rocks to the base of Mount Sanitas.
As I climbed up the steep Mount Sanitas trail, the heat jumped on me and the sun shone full glare. Adequately hydrated, I felt strong and was looking to summit, head down from Pinebrook Hills and make my way to Broadway via Wonderland Lake.
I passed several of my favorite bouldering routes on Sanitas and looked down on the valley trail to the east. I climbed and climbed and climbed and finally reached the summit, spent and wishing I had some more food and water. Two Clif Bars, three gels, and two salt tablets were all gone. From the summit, I could see Wonderland Lake and knew I would make it to Broadway where I could catch the SKIP for a ride back to South Boulder and home-food, water, and shower.
I weaved down the steep switchbacks on the east side of Sanitas and hit the top of the valley. I headed north over the other side to the Pinebrook Hills housing area and down the paved road to Linden Ave. I gingerly took Linden down to the flats of Boulder and ended my run there, hungry, joints sore, and spent. I walked a half-mile east to Broadway and found the SKIP stop along the side of the road.
I figured my adventure was over, but it was another forty-five minutes before I would walk into the door of my home and find some sustenance.
I stood at the bus stop and hoped luck would bring my ride quickly. I was reminded by the sign that the SKIP only runs every half hour on the weekends. Well, I figured, by the law of averages, I shouldn't have to wait more than fifteen minutes. With luck on my side, less than that. I stretched for ten minutes while waiting for the wheels to roll by. Fifteen minutes came and I sat down on the sidewalk. I was so hungry and beginning to get light-headed that I began to worry about standing up again. My stomach was so empty I could feel both sides touching, so it seemed.
No worries, I told myself. I've been through worse. All I have to do is wait, sit on a bus, then walk a block after it drops me off near home. Then I'll find sustenance and water. I quieted my mind and waited.
Twenty minutes. Twenty-five minutes. Thirty minutes. Well, it looks like the bus should just about be here I told myself. I slowly stood up, grabbed the pole with the bus-stop sign on it and stretched my legs. At last, it arrived.
I stepped onto the cool bus and found a seat in the back, smelly, dirty, sweaty. The streets slowly but surely clicked by and fifteen minutes later I was home, another epic trail adventure brought to a close, over twenty miles, five mountains and five hours later.
July
15, 2001
Boreas Pass
Last Saturday, July 7, I woke up with a fever and an aching body, in no mood for an epic trail run. A sinus infection knocked me out and I skipped the run for the weekend and soaked up some needed rest in preparation for the following week and Boreas Pass…
On Sunday, July 15, I was ready for a point-to-point run from Breckenridge to Como. My support crew-consisting of Mom and Dad-was visiting for a week's vacation and I planned a few runs with their help at transportation. Mom and Dad were happy to oblige with the drop-offs and pick-ups. They're the best!
We drove down Main Street in Breckenridge to Boreas Pass Road, turned left, and pulled over. I started my run at the beginning of the paved Boreas Pass Road, leaving my parents to their leisurely drive on Highway 9 over Hoosier Pass for our rendezvous in Como.
I climbed up the pavement and out of Breck, reaching the dirt road leading to Boreas Pass after 3.5 miles. (I got the exact distances of this run because I convinced my parents to drive back over Boreas Pass on our return.)
After 3.5 miles, I was glad to get off the pavement and climbed up the well-maintained dirt road to the top of the pass at 11,451 feet, hitting mile 10. This run was very straightforward and went by rather quickly.
I ran over the pass and clicked off some six-minute miles on the descent towards Como. At about three to four miles to the end of the road-and the start of Highway 285-I spotted my parents' car. Aid station!
I dropped my pack and drank some Gatorade they had stored in an ice chest. I had drained one water bottle and was glad to get rid of the pack holding a jacket and energy bars I never needed. Excess weight is never fun to carry.
"Meet me at the highway," I said and took off for Como.
My parents drove to the junction of Highway 285 where I ended my run at 20.8 miles, support crew waiting.
The weather was ideal for my run-clear skies and mild temperatures. Beautiful vistas and aspens lined the road. I started a few minutes before 8:00 and finished around 10:45 just before some early summer storms moved in and darkened the skies. As we drove back over Boreas Pass, the vistas were covered in clouds and cool rain pelted our windows. "The views really are beautiful when they aren't obscured by the clouds," I tried to convince my parents.
July
20, 2001
Colorado Trail-Breck, Copper, Frisco
With only four full days since my Boreas Pass run, I planned another point-to-point trail run while my support crew was in the area.
On Friday morning, I woke up tired but eager to run a section of the Colorado Trail-Segment 7 from Gold Hill Trailhead to Copper Mountain, as laid out in The Official Guidebook. The sign at the trailhead read 13.8 miles to Copper and I planned to add on the 6-mile bike path from Copper to Frisco after that to make it closer to a 20 miler for the morning.
Dad dropped me off at the trailhead (9,200 feet), only a few miles outside Breck, and I took off at a leisurely pace. I climbed through the forest, following cross country ski trails in the early going, and wended my way up to treeline and the crest of the Ten Mile Range by the end of eight miles, 12,440 feet.
I followed the ridge across the ski peaks of Breckenridge and dropped over the other side where I could see Copper Mountain below with I-70 shooting off in right angles and Highway 91 heading towards Fremont Pass. As I traversed the alpine tundra and talus, the roar of automobiles echoed up from the valley below. In the 21st century, development is inescapable, even on the Colorado Trail.
The trail soon dropped from the tundra and wound its way down into the trees, switch-backing its way to the end at the Wheeler Flats Trailhead at Copper Mountain (9,700 feet.)
I felt good at this point; having run a mellow pace, but the descent to Copper had pounded my left knee a bit. I have had flare-ups of tendonitis since the SkyMarathon in Aspen a month ago. And the day after Boreas Pass, a mountain bike ride at Keystone set it off again. Four days isn't ideal recovery between long runs, especially since my workouts in between weren't exactly recovery workouts. So I stretched and decided the relatively flat-albeit paved, yuck!-stretch on the bike route between Copper and Frisco would be easy enough.
I made my way onto the pavement and watched families on bikes cruise by as I ran down to Frisco. Despite stopping several times to stretch, it didn't take too long before I arrived in Frisco. My body and legs tight and beat-up after the run and knee aching from the abuse, I plunged myself in Ten Mile Creek. I sat with hips and legs in the frigid water for several minutes, enjoying my end-of-run dip. A plunge in an icy creek is great for post-run recovery!
I extricated myself from
the water before hypothermia set in and walked over to the condo
where my family was spending their vacation, food and shower waiting.
July
29/30, 2001
XTERRA / Marshall Mesa
The weekend of July 29, I headed to Keystone. Instead of a trail run, I did a trail triathlon. I competed in the XT Microsupreme--500m swim, 13k bike, 5k run-Sunday morning, then covered the full length XTERRA race afterwards for the Colorado Triathlete. The day was beautiful and I had a blast competing again since ending an eleven-year triathlon career in 1998.
Monday morning, I did a hot, seventeen-mile trail run from home in Boulder-to Marshall Mesa, down Dowdy Draw, then back via the Mesa Trail. The route was fairly basic, but I wanted to get in a semi-long run for the weekend. Hot, hot, hot. I wished I were still up in Summit on some trails.
August
4, 2001
Magnolia
A crazy, busy week. I spent August 1st moving. Now I'm closer to the trails, living between Boulder and Nederland. Saturday morning, I drove up steep Magnolia road from Boulder Canyon and parked at the end of the pavement. From there I ran Mags. It's the first time I've actually run the road used by the CU cross-country team as a staple workout. It's a straight forward run at about 9,000 feet with some decent hills. It kicked my butt. I felt sluggish for the eighteen miles I ran and could only think about the pace some of the harriers have kept along this road. The fact that it was a road meant cars and a crown. The cars kicked up plenty of dust. And my right hip and glute were quite stiff from the canter of the road. Magnolia definitely has its patches of beauty, but it's probably best left to the Buffs. I prefer the vertical trails with less cars and dust and broader vistas and refreshing streams.