Tuesday, July 29, 2014

Five Weeks Ending July 26

Week Ending June 29 (Week of Western States) 

This week was mainly jogging, with one easy summit of Horsetooth, a lap in the Leppy Hills outside the Nevada-Utah border casino town of West Wendover, and a couple of trail jogs close to home, before the Western States implosion on the weekend.

Total: 117 miles (19,000')


Week Ending July 6

Mon - Thur: Off

Fri - 4 miles (1,200') hike. North Diamond Peak with the kids.
We were hailed and rained on for an hour or so while trying to cook at the campsite, and then we were rewarded. 
Alistair posing at a small creek confluence on the way up to North Diamond.
North Diamond with Never Summers behind.
Summit (11,852'). Northern Never Summers beyond Cameron Pass. 
Followed the drainage back to Cameron Pass. 
Sat - 3 miles (500') hike. Lake Agnes with the kids.

A gentle hike on the Lake Agnes Trail 
Lake Fun. 
Sun - 5 miles (1,700') hike. Met Abby at the Conocco on Hwy 34 and headed out to the flood-ravaged town of Glen Haven on Devil's Gulch road to set about bagging West Crosier (9,020'), a Larimer ranked peak. Hiked the main trail from Glen Haven to Piper Meadows then cut off trail through the meadow for the W.Crosier summit. Missed the summit a bit to the north, so followed the ridge south to gain the true summit. Not surprisingly, the summit register contained familiar Lists of John names and not many others. Really no reason to visit this peak other than to tick it off the list. The views of the Estes Valley and the Continental Divide from the much-more-visited Crosier proper are much better, but that said the views of Crosier from West Crosier were unique, I guess. It was an easy schwack back to the meadow and trail. Fun morning and first LoJ nonsense peak in quite some time.

Total: 12 miles (3,400')


Week Ending July 13

Mon - Thurs: Off

Fri - 5 miles (1,500') hike. Horsetooth summit.

Sat - 3.5 mile (1,000') hike. Arthurs Rock with the kids.

Top Arthurs. Seriously, we had fun. 
Sun - Off

Total: 8.5 miles (2,500') 


Week Ending July 20

Mon - Wed: In NYC for work. Brought no running gear. 

Thurs - AM: 8 miles (1,200') easy. Trail jog with Lee and Marie on Valley - Sawmill - Carey - Towers, from Bluesky.
PM: 9 miles (2,000') hill tempo. Towers in 33 mins. Back at it. Man, I'm out of shape. Great turnout, including local reporter Stephen Meyers. A Towers article in the Coloradoan.

Sweaty lens.
Fri - 13 miles (3,200') easy. First section of the Never Summer 100km course with Mike H, including a summit of Seven Utes (11,453') and a visit to Lake Agnes, finishing up at Cameron Pass via the Ditch trail.
Approaching the summit of Seven Utes, the Nokhu Crags appear over the Shoulder of Braddock. Silver Creek Trail runs the verdant hillside, before dropping into Lake Agnes: miles 7 - 11 of the Never Summer 100km course.
Mike heading north on the Silver Creek Trail, taking in the Medicine Bows to the north. 
Mike in Silhouette
Richthofen and Static from Silver Creek.
Other side of the Crags below Michigan Lakes. Photo: Pete Stevenson. 
Sat - 22 miles (5,600') easy. Starting at Cameron, where we left off the day before, Mike and I met up with Chad and Cam to take on the next section of the course, beginning with a hoof up North Diamond Peak (11,852') - the high point on the course - followed by a couple of gorgeous miles cruising the carpeted ridge to the descent on the Montgomery Pass Rd. Mike and I continued on together from there, whacking our way across the southern Yurt Trail, before hoofing up Ruby Jewel to the beautiful alpine setting in Hidden Valley where we enjoyed the big mountain views surrounding Kelly Lake (10,805'). Short on water and calories, we turned back returning to the campsite via Ruby Jewel and Lumberjack. Great mileage, but I was definitely feeling this one as my first proper long run back from Western States.
Top Diamond with Chad and Cam. Photo: Hinterberg
Looking back at the Medicine Bow Traverse, before dropping off to the west. Photo: Hinterberg. 
Hinterberg selfie on the Yurt trail traverse. 
Kelly Lake in Hidden Valley.
Karen Smidt cruising above Kelly lake. Photo: Marie-Helene Faurie. 
Moose everywhere in State Forest. Photo: Pete Stevenson.
Sun - 6.5 miles (1,000') easy. Jogged the last few miles of the course with Pete and Cam from the Bockman campground to Ranger Lakes via the Gould Mountain saddle. This capped a great weekend camping with family and friends in State Forest State Park previewing the Never Summer 100km course.

Total: 58.5 miles (13,000') 


Week Ending July 27  

Mon - 10 miles (2,500') easy. Slogged on Horsetooth - Westridge - Spring Creek. My legs were so dead on this run I almost bagged it after 10 minutes. Forged on and finally enjoyed a fluid descent of Spring Creek some six miles in.

Tues - AM: 7 miles (1,600') easy. Horsetooth summit. Legs were much more responsive today.
PM: 5.5 miles progression. Skipped the track in favor of a short progression run on the Valley trails. Oi, need to work on fitness.

Weds - 7 miles (1,600') easy. Really easy summit of Horsetooth.

Thurs - 10 miles (3,200') hill repeats. Lee put out the call for a Horsetooth Hills workout, and as much as I didn't want to do this, I knew I needed to start working on some fitness. The workout goes: 3 x 1/4, 2 x 1/2, 1 x 3/4, 1 x mile (capped with a Horsetooth summit) on an average grade of about 15%. I hit these at about 80% effort, but it was still grueling. There's a reason I don't do this workout much more than twice a year; it's just a rude way to start the day. Splits were a good 20-30 seconds off (per quarter) from what I usually do on this workout: 3:10, 3:00, 3:01, 5:59, 5:55, 8:55, 12:22.
PM: 8 miles (1,300') easy. Black Squirrel training run and Altra shoe demo from the Arthurs Rock trailhead in Lory. Great turnout for this run, with an opportunity to demo the new Lone Peak 2.0s, Olympus and Torins.
At the Arthurs Rock TH.
Fri - 5 miles (1,500') easy. Jogged out a very easy lap on Horsetooth as recovery from Thurs and in preparation for a big day on Longs.

Sat - 18 miles (8,000') hoofing. Radical Slam with Elijah and Jamie. More on this in a separate post, but the gist is this: Mount Meeker (13,911'), Longs Peak (14,256'), Pagoda Mountain (13,497'), Storm Peak (13,326'), Mount Lady Washington (13,281'), Battle Mountain (12,044'), Estes Cone (11,006'). Longs is a great peak, but man is there a lot of choss on the massif. A lot of rocks, a lot of peaks and just a really fun morning in the park.

Elijah finds the elusive Clark's Arrow on the way to Longs and the Keplinger Couloir. 

Longs, Palisades, Loft and Meeker from Pagoda. 
Sun - 9 miles (1,200') easy. Headed up to Cameron pass with Pete and worked on the Seven Utes to Agnes section of the Never Summer 100km course. Laid a bunch of cairns to clarify the route from Seven Utes to the Silver Creek trail, then did some trail maintenance on the rough logging road section from Braddock to Agnes. We've got the route pretty much 100% dialed now, and believe that we have the best course possible within the confines of State Forest State Park. It's been a blast figuring out the maze of unmapped (and often overgrown) logging roads, trails, and off-trail connectors; and what we've ended up with is - we think - a fantastic full loop tour of some amazing terrain in the Never Summer and Medicine Bow Mountains. Permits are pending, but we have the verbal thumbs up from the head ranger who seems super pumped about bringing a major trail race to the park. July 25, 2015: mark you calendars.

Meanwhile, Cam found a 5x5 bull elk on top of Static (12,571')! Say what! Never Summers are wild, man. Photo: Cam Cross. 
An Elk on the Static Ridge, looking north to Nokhu Crags, with Snow Lake below. Crazy pic: Cam Cross. 
Total: 80 miles (21,000)

Thursday, July 17, 2014

UTMF & Western States 100

These two races form part of the new 10-race Ultra Trail World Tour, a year-long series of popular races around the world that will culminate with La Diagonale des Fous on the island of Reunion off the southeast coast of Africa in October. Whether or not the series has legs is yet to be seen, but it is certainly one example among many of the booming popularity that our once-niche sport is currently enjoying.

Regardless of what the future holds for the UTWT, I was happy to be a small part of the effort in its foundational year. And while neither of these races went particularly well for me, in fact they both went quite poorly, I still consider myself extremely fortunate to have taken part in both.

Indeed, a trip out to Japan to run around Mount Fuji should be on any runner's bucket list: the mountain is about as iconic as they come and Japan is about as welcoming a country as you could ever wish to visit. Throw in a detail-driven, organizational national psyche and you find yourself running around an amazing mountain with nary a second thought as to the potential pitfalls of running through the wilderness of a very foreign country.

Western States, by contrast, is a race that I have become intimately familiar with over the last five years, and one that offers very few cultural surprises. It is a special event, if for no other reason than the foundational position it commands within the lore of the sport. And while I'm glad to be moving on from the event, I also know that I will dearly miss the passion - for the trail, for the sport, and for the community - that is so evidently on display in those 100 miles between Squaw Valley and Auburn, CA.

What follows is a double report on these two UTWT races, followed by a couple of concluding thoughts on 100-miling and the pain of banging my head against a solid brick wall.

Mount Fuji

After a week of incredibly gracious hospitality from Altra's man in Japan, Takashi Fukuchi, and his wonderful wife, Rae, it was time to get on with the task at hand: a lap around Nippon's Big Cone.

The late afternoon start was something I could have done without given the extra layer of thought and preparation it added to my typical pre-race motions (wake up two hours before the start, eat donuts, drink coffee, visit the toilet, suit up, run), but you deal and get on with it.

Just before the start: me and Brian Beckstead, one of the three founding guys behind the Altra brand and a handy 100 miler to boot.
The opening miles through Kawaguchiko under the shadow of Fuji were predictably fast (as predictably fast as U.S. races are predictably slow to get going), and I soon found myself running in a pack that included the lead ladies, among others. The opening dirt-road climb out of town probably averaged 10 percent, a grade right out of the Clarkie all-day playbook, and I soon found myself settling in nicely and moving up through the field. Topping out, we then transitioned to a very fast, net downhill section of tarmacadam, before finally hitting some soft piney singletrack for the descent into the village of Fujiyoshida.

By the top of the next climb, which funneled into some outrageously fun, steep and technical singletrack high on the summit ridge of Shakushiyama, I was running within the top 10 and feeling great. That is until the ensuing technical, muddy descent from the summit where I took an awkward fall that left me prone on the ground with my left shoulder out of socket (a legacy from my rugby days). It had been a few years since my shoulder last dislocated, but a bit of on-the-ground contorting soon had it popped back into place and I was up and running soon after the initial stab of pain had subsided.

Running in eighth or ninth now, I came in solo to the intermediate aid station before the next town, but left just as a gaggle of runners poured in. Flipping on my light, I soon realized that I was seriously underpowered in the lumen department compared to my peers and was forced to let them go on the technical descent into town.

Rolling out of Yamanakako, I was fortunate enough to hook up with Dave Mackey who appeared to be running well and enjoying his evening. On the roads out of town we caught up to Frenchman Antoine Guillon and formed a solid trio as we made our way through a nice rolling wooded section, taking a name or two in the process. Both Dave and Antoine were clearly stronger on the downs (and both had far superior lighting), so it was back and forth as we cruised the rollers. Ultimately Dave would gap Antoine and me on a longer descent through this section, leaving me to pigeon-French a conversation with the amicable frogger for the next few hours.

Attention to detail is not one of my stronger suits, and so in typical fashion I was experimenting with nutrition on the fly out in Japan. And to my great surprise my stomach appeared to be tolerating - nay embracing - the diluted Cool Citrus VFuel that I had mixed in a soft bladder-bottle stuffed into the chest pocket of my Ultraspire pack with a handy straw flapping around close to my mouth. Gels were going in at the pre-planned rate, energy levels were high, and confidence was strong as a result.

I spent a lot of the night rolling around in the mud.
On a long road section somewhere close to the halfway point, last year's winner Hara-san went powering by at quite an impressive pace, dropping me to seventh or eighth. On the short out and back from the subsequent aid station I crossed Antoine and Mike Foote, so clearly the race was still very much on for top 10 placements. The net 10km of downhill dirt road that ensued went quickly and with little fanfare, with the exception of one particularly bruising fall. A couple shoulder checks along the way revealed two lights within a half mile behind; nothing in view ahead. Mike caught up to me just as we hit the water stop before a rough section of trail carved out by a power-line cut, and we ran the next portion together, both in high spirits.

Still energized and feeling fantastic, I ran this section with Mike at what felt like a strong effort. Halfway through this section though, I took another abrupt digger, dislocating my shoulder once again in the process. This time it took a couple of minutes to pop it back in. Nonetheless, I was back running alongside Mike within a mile and we were soon catching and passing runners. First Hara and then an ailing Thomas Lorblanchet. Coming into the aid station under the TenShi Mountains, the crux of the course - and not before a third shoulder dislocation while grabbing a pole to make a 90 degree turn - Mike and I were sitting pretty in sixth and seventh.

And then I learned from my crew that I'd eaten through the box of Cool Citrus that I'd brought with me and would have to make do with chocolate. While prepping for the burly 12 miles to come through the mountains, I spied a bowl of miso soup and slurped it down. Almost immediately my stomach rebelled, essentially ending my race and the charge for a podium finish.

The four hours - yes four hours to complete 12 miles - through the night in the TenShi mountains were incredibly hard, and now that I was vomiting rather than eating, they were also fantastically exhausting. Nonetheless, there were apparently runners worse off than me. Near the top of the hands-and-feet first climb, I passed a hurting Dave Mackey, then soon passed an even-more hurting Emmanuel Gault for a temporary spot in the top five. But I knew it was just a matter of time before the floodgates behind opened up.

Tip-toeing down the ludicrously steep descent from the final summit in the TenShi (where there were literally miles of fixed ropes), Antoine blazed past me. Given how poorly I was now moving, I was surprised he was the only one. Some four hours after I had left the previous stop, I finally pulled into aid station nine, with a new day now dawned. By this point I was truly miserable and giving serious consideration to dropping. My stomach was in knots and I was severely dehydrated. Apparently one bottle, no calories and lots of puking is not the way to tackle a four-hour stretch of technical, mountainous trail: attention to detail Clark! But I couldn't bring myself to pull the plug when faced with a crew that had sacrificed a weekend to come out and help.

I jogged out of the aid until I was out of sight, and then began walking. A mile out I came across a camera crew and asked them how I could extricate myself from my predicament. Due to severe linguistic difficulties I didn't get an answer so walked on to a nice spot by a creek and sat on a rock not quite sure what to do. After 30 minutes of sitting around feeling sorry for myself, Dave came hobbling through looking perhaps as bad as I felt. He compelled me to walk the final 50km into the finish with him and all of a sudden I was moving again with a somewhat renewed sense of mission, and quite honestly relieved not be pulling the plug.

Finally at the next aid station, I begin to feel like I might be able to get some calories in, and indeed a bowl of noodles was accepted by my stomach. On the ensuing climb, John Tidd caught up to me and I was able to find some energy and motivation, slotting in behind. Some 15 miles later at the penultimate aid station, with Tidd a long stretch of pavement behind me, Meghan Hicks informed me that I was in 10th position. Dumbfounded that I could still be in the top 10 (the rate of attrition was apparently quite high), I pressed on, finally finding the finish some 23 hours after I had started, relieved simply to have had the cojones to dig myself out of a major slump, to have finished what I had started, and to have gotten around the mountain.

A DNF had very much been in the cards and totally acceptable to me at my lowest point out there, but thanks to Dave and John I was able to finish and am now of course hugely thankful to have done so. A trip all the way out to Japan with nothing but a DNF to show for it would have been painful to accept. Thank you Dave, thank you John, and thank you to my wonderful crew.

A thoroughly underserved 10th place finish.
Western States

Jogging up the ski hill, I was somewhat bemused by the ridiculously cagey start that was unfolding. With all the hares in the field, it seemed like at least one of them would take off up the mountain, but instead I found myself leading the way to the Escarpment at an effort that I estimated to be among my lowest ever in the five times I'd done this race. Through the Granite Chief I maintained that lead, before runners finally started catching up, close to Lyon Ridge.

First to the top. Not a bad morning for a run. Photo: Ryan Smith.
The pace soon began to quicken and so I let the large chase pack go, feeling a distinct lack of pep and - quite honestly - desire in my stride. By Robinson Flat, some 30 miles in, I was beginning to feel like this wasn't going to be my day. I was 8 to 10 minutes off my usual pace, with a pair of quads that already felt iffy and a mind that had a singular lack of drive. Up to this point I had been working behind Ian Sharman and Brendan Davies, but on the ensuing half marathon descent from Robinson, I would lose them and then watch Ryan Sandes and Alex Varner pass by me with the utmost of ease.

Coming into Duncan at mile 24. Photo: Justin Mock
Coming into Dusty Corners: Mock
By Devil's Thumb at mile 47, I essentially knew the game was up and for the second time in as many races my thoughts transitioned to dropping out. On the contour trail to Last Chance, normally a strong section of the course for me, I was appalled at how slowly I was moving and then on the descent to Eldorado, I literally threw in the towel while tip-toeing down the drawn-out descent on a pair of totally unresponsive legs that appeared to have suffered major quad damage. Four or five guys - all looking good - went by me on the descent, and then a couple more as I lingered down by the creek eating blueberries.

On the long walk up to Michigan Buff, as more runners streamed by, I plotted my escape route, 100 percent certain that I was going to quit, all the while thinking about how I was going to dodge the inevitable pressure to continue from crew and volunteers. Sitting in my chair feeling ridiculously sorry for myself and imploring overzealous aid station volunteers to leave me alone, I tried to clear my head a little. My quads were shot, my feet were blistered and I just couldn't visualize a finish. The 16 miles of mainly downhill on Cal Street seemed insurmountable.

Finally, some 30 minutes later, Shelly Jones-Wilkins looks me straight in the eyes and tells me that I need to finish this race, learn from it and move on. There will be no lessons learned unless I get to the finish line. Finally, I feel a slight spark, and while the remaining 45 miles still seem quite impossible, I agree to a quick massage to see if that might turn my legs around. Two wonderful ladies work my legs and within three minutes they have me back up and running. Incredible. Thank you so much.

Jacob Rydman, my selfless pacer,  donates the socks off his feet, I slip my Lone Peaks back on and all of a sudden I'm running out of the aid station, and indeed I run virtually all the way to the next aid stop at Foresthill.

By this point I am firmly out of the race for places, but a respectable finish in the 18-hour range still isn't out of the question. That is until my stomach predictably turns sour a quarter of the way down to the river, essentially ceasing all possibility of calorie consumption. Jacob and I move reasonably well on the descent to Cal 1, but then halfway between Cal 1 and Cal 2 I come up against a major brick wall. The nausea in combination with my blisters and blown quads stop me in my tracks and I tell Jake that I'm going to have to walk to Cal 2.

Right at the top of the Elevator Shaft, a precipitous and loose drop into the Cal 2 aid station, I hear the unmistakable AJW baritone. The pass is about to happen and I step off the side of the trail to let Andy through. He stops briefly with a slight look of surprise in his eyes, then simply gives me a hug and tells me that he loves me. Wow. Somewhat taken aback, I proclaim my shared love for Andy and just like that he's ripping down the elevator shaft in pursuit of his tenth finish. The man-love from Andy is good and wholesome, but not enough to resolve my issues.

I ask Jacob what the escape route out of Cal 2 looks like and he tells me that if I want to quit then I need to get to the river. Damn it. We sit in Cal 2 for a good long time. The stop eases my stomach situation slightly and I consume a couple of morsels, but mainly suck on ginger ale. I watch friends go through the aid, all looking motivated and strong, but find no motivation to move until an ailing Kaci Likteig walks in, proclaiming her quads to be destroyed. Finally somebody who can sympathize with my misery.

We commit to walking down to the river together where we would perhaps unceremoniously drop or perhaps continue on to the finish. And then the Cal 2 calories appear to kick in a bit and I feel like I can jog again. Kaci catches my rhythm and all of a sudden we're both moving at what could genuinely be described as a 'run.' Spirits now high, Kaci and I make a pact that we're both going to finish this thing. We seal the deal with a fist bump, and for the first time since El Dorado and can envision a finish.

Across the river I receive some foot treatment giving up further time on the clock, but not caring one iota. I struggle through the first few miles from Green Gate and then proceed to lose my lunch. The stomach reset allows me to continue running, but I go too hard and by the time I drop into the Auburn Lakes Trail aid station (85) I reach my lowest low of this unrelenting day of lows. The nausea engulfing me is now total and I sit in the aid station contemplating how on earth it is that I'm going to complete the final 15 miles of this bruising day. The answer ends up being time. I sit in the aid station for half an hour, maybe more, before finally heeding the advice of the wonderful ALT nurse to hike to Browns Bar, some five miles down the trail. We walk every single step of those five miles and finally my stomach comes back to life.

Over those last 10 miles, I go from tiptoeing out a run, to gradually picking up a head of steam that would ultimately result in tempo session from No Hands Bridge through town and an all-out sprint on the track. I end the day feeling like I have barely started, my stomach is ready for calories and my mind is clear. I have never finished a 100 miler feeling this fresh, coherent and with such an appetite. Had it been a 200 mile race, I may just have been in with a shot.

But it wasn't. Instead I finished 47th overall, over five hours off my best time, but in good spirits and at peace with my final run from Squaw Valley to Auburn, California. It has been a fun ride but it's most definitely time to move on to other challenges. The cougar will have to remain the thing that dreams are made ... to quote Sam Spade.


In order to race 100 milers effectively, your mind most be 100 percent committed. I believe my mind was ready for Fuji, but totally indifferent to Western States this year. I figured I could show up, go through the motions and come away with a solid finish. Instead, when things started going wrong, I used those hurdles as excuses to look for a way out.

In order to race 100 miles effectively, you need a functioning stomach. I'm close to being at my wits end on this one. I will work with my good friend Abby McQueeney Penamonte - a registered dietician and talented 100 mile runner herself - over the next few weeks to see if we can't figure something out for Steamboat in September. If that ends up being another disaster, then I am currently of the opinion that I will retire from racing 100 milers - or at least take an extended break. I know what it feels like to endure hours of nausea whilst trying to maintain strong forward progress, and quite frankly it sucks. I don't need to keep banging my head against that wall.

Fortunately, there are plenty of other long-distance challenges that can be taken on in the mountains at a much lower intensity, so if I do end up quitting the 100 mile distance it will hopefully come with a renewed sense of purpose for big projects in the mountains that perhaps do not involve a formal start and finish line.

Either way, I am happy to have completed both UTMF and Western States, despite an overwhelming desire at points in both races to quit, and I look forward to applying those lessons learned to future challenges.

Sunday, June 22, 2014

Week Ending June 22

Mon - 6.5 miles (1,500') easy. Jogged a lap on Horsetooth.

Tues - Noon: 4.5 miles (700') easy. Quick Falls loop in the new Lone Peak 2.0s, which felt great, but I won't be able to get enough miles on them before Western to have full confidence, so I'll be donning the 1.5s.
PM: 6.5 miles track. The last 300 meters of the Western States 100 famously take in 3/4s of the Placer High School track, so when the email came through from Jane detailing this week's track workout I could but smile: 2km warmup, followed by 10 x 300. Dressed in a long-sleeve base layer, a winter beanie, knee-length tights and compression socks (yes, I looked like a prick), I got to work with my shirtless compadres. Opening 2k was 6:46 w/5:23 mile, then: 55, 55, 55, 56, 55, 55, 54, 55, 55, 52. I know, I'll never be accused of being a speed demon. And that's why I race 100s.

Weds - 4 miles easy. Felt predictably gimpy after yesterday's session at the oval, so just got out for a nice easy jog through the Marina campgrounds.

Thurs - 8.5 miles (1,700') hill tempo. Another Thursday, another session on Towers. I tried to keep this one within the realms of comfortable, but ended up working harder than I would have liked - on a perfect late-spring evening - for a mediocre 30:40. Not quite the confidence boost I was looking for. Ran the descent much harder than usual with Brad and his buddies.

Fri - Off. My right hamstring felt slightly tweaked from the Towers descent, so I made the easy decision of taking a day off.  

Saturday - 12.5 miles (4,500') up high. Got out with Burch to celebrate the solstice by heading up to State Forest to nab a couple of high peaks in the Medicine Bow Mountains. In addition, we attempted to connect a few of the rougher sections of trail on the Never Summer 100k course, with varying degrees of success. Parking on a pull-out halfway between the 2WD and 4WD trailheads on the Ruby Jewel Rd we donated some blood to a vicious swarm of skeeters then got going. The route to Jewel Lake was fairly straightforward, with just a few lingering snowfields to navigate, then it was a gorgeous, tundra-filled hump towards the 'Lewis' and Clark saddle, from where we headed north to tag 'Lewis' peak (12,654') and take in the super stellar views. From Lewis, it was a quick down and up to Clark Peak (12,951'), the highest point in Jackson County and the peak with most prominence in Larimer County (it straddles the border of both counties). The views from both peaks were quite sensational and offered unparalleled views of a number of sub-ranges within the mighty Rockies, including the Never Summers, Medicine Bow, Mummies, Park Range, Front Range, Snowies, and more. Seriously, this is perhaps the best vantage point of the Rockies that I've ever had the fortune of enjoying. We connected with a faint use trail south off Clark, wrapping west on the ridge to the south of the Jewel Lake bowl under Lewis and Clark, before dropping back in and down to the truck. We finished up the morning with some running on the Yurt trail, connecting some pieces that I failed to find on last weekend's scouting trip.

The tundra-adorned southern Medicine Bows in the foreground, including Diamond Peaks, then pretty much the full Never Summer line-up in back with the high point, (Baron von) Richthofen, slightly off center to the left in the top of the frame and, I think, Baker all the way south in the top right. That traverse is high on my list for this summer. So good.
From same vantage point (top 'Lewis'), looking north to the northern Med Bows.
Hidden Vally section of the Never Summer 100k course in the foreground, then Park Range west across North Park.
Clark Peak and south section of the Med Bows. This whole range is super carpeted and could be done in very quick order. 
Front Range Peaks, including Longs in the top left. 
Clark & Clark from top 'Lewis'
Love this range. Mummies from top Clark Peak. Five of the six peaks that make up the Mummy Mania traverse visible (Hagues, Fairchild, Ypsilon, Chiquita and Chapin (L-R), with Mummy obscured behind Hagues).
Lewis center, Clark right.
Sun - 5 miles (1,500') hike/jog. I wasn't going to do anything today, but I felt the need to get out, so compromised with a stiff hike to the top of Horsetooth and a gentle jog down. Came home and watched some footie. The U.S. looked so much better than the useless English earlier in the week. Guess I'll be wearing my U.S. hat for the rest of the WC.

Total: 47.5 miles (9,900')

Off to Tahoe on Weds. We'll see what the weekend brings!

Tuesday, June 17, 2014

Week Ending June 15

Mon - 4.5 miles (700') easy. Falls loop. Headed out late in the day for a Horsetooth summit, but just couldn't muster the energy, so bailed with a consolation loop on the lower trails.

Tues - AM: 6.5 miles (1,500') easy. Horsetooth summit. A super casual jog in the heat of the day with an extra layer just to warm the legs a bit for the evening's track workout.
PM: 6 miles track. It was good and hot at the track this evening, so I got some strange looks warming up in pants and a jacket, but I like to get a good sweat going before doing anything intense like a track workout. Nonetheless, it always takes me the first couple of reps to really commit to doing these things. Workout was: mile, 4 x 800. Eased in on the first couple laps of the mile, then worked the second 800 a bit. For the 800s, we were working in pairs with the second runner (me) joining/pulling the first runner on his second lap before soloing his own second lap. This dynamic led to a lazy first 800, before I figured I needed to push a little harder on the first lap as the second runner: 5:30, 2:40, 2:36, 2:35, 2:35. These reps felt really, really good - totally under control with plenty in the tank to push harder had I wanted.

Weds - AM: 6.5 miles (1,500') easy. Horsetooth summit. Good and easy.
PM: 6 miles easy. Easy out and back on the Valley trails.

Thurs - 10.5 miles (1,200') easy. Ran the Blue Sky/Indian Summer out and back with Sarah, Lee and Slush. Latched onto Sarah's uptick in pace over the last couple miles, otherwise just a nice early morning cruise.

Fri - 6 miles easy. Jogged an out and back from the Blue Sky trailhead to Shoreline/Nomad. Layered up for this one and got a solid sweat going.

Sat - 12 miles (2,000') easy. We stayed at the Montgomery Yurt up at State Forest in the Medicine Bow Mountains this weekend, which was a total blast. This trip had a dual purpose. In addition to wanting to get away somewhere remote with the family, I was also champing at the bit to get up to State Forest - now snow free up to about 10.5k' - to start scouting the Never Summer 100k race we plan on debuting next year.

Up with the sun, I followed the Yurt Trail connecting the Montgomery Pass Rd to the Ruby Jewel Rd - starting approximately 26 miles into our intended route. This is typically a winter trail intended for yurt to yurt ski tours of the park, so the realities on the ground in the summer were less than ideal. The well-defined ATV track of the designated trail soon gave way to mainly cross country travel with a hint of trail thrown in here and there through the trees. On the final clear cut before I was supposed to pop out on the Ruby Jewel Rd I totally lost the trail and ended up bushwhacking through the woods on the 9,600' contour that the trail was marked as following over the final mile or so. Once on the road I jogged up to the next trail intersection, passing the exit point of the Yurt Trail after a quarter mile, so just a little low, but good to know that the trail goes all the way through. From there, I picked up the Mtn View Trail, shortcutting through a heinous clearcut near the bottom to get back on the main park road, from whence it was a jog back to the yurt. This was a fun, if somewhat slow and frustrating morning, and an eye-opener for the kind of terrain this race is going to take in. Following the run, we hot-footed it out to Steamboat for an afternoon in the hot springs followed by the usual downer of watching England perform poorly in the World Cup.

Yurt Fun
Yurt 'trail.' XC travel will be required.
Once clearcut, these saplings are growing in thick and fast.
Sun - 10 miles (1,800') easy. More scouting, this time in the far northern section of the course under Clark Peak and the Rawah section of the Medicine Bows. The first half of this run was on well-maintained forest road, which gave way to overgrown madness on the connector 'trail' I was scouting. As is common in State Park, which has been extensively logged over the years due to heavy beetle kill, a lot of the old logging roads are now being aggressively reclaimed by vibrant saplings which have been lapping things up in the moist environment. After bushwhacking the final mile of trail/road, I finally popped back out on the eastern side of the loop from where I enjoyed a return on super skinny trail that clearly sees heavy game activity but little human passage. With the vibrant wild flowers, remote location and game-rutted trails, this whole section was very reminiscent of some of the more remote sections of the Big Horn course.
Trail coming in from the Hidden Valley Alpine section, which also takes in Kelly Lake. 
Once a trail. A half mile later and it was solid bushwhacking with no discernible evidence of a trail.  More scouting required.
Diamond Peaks, Nokhu Crags, Richthofen and Mahler on the south end of the course (north end of the Never Summers). The first 25 miles of the course route under and around the Never Summers by way of Seven Utes, Lake Agnes, Michigan Ditch and Michigan Lakes. Then up Diamond Peaks and into the Medicine Bows for some ridge running to Montgomery Pass. So good. 
Much of the course can be seen here through a clearing on the north end. The Never Summers are off in the distance, before the contour under the Medicine Bow Mountains and through alpine terrain in Hidden Valley on the left side of the frame. The low point on the course will be about 8,500' with approximately half of it run above 10,000', topping out at just below 12,000' on North Diamond Peak.
The trails, as it turns out, are not always so well defined. Heavy marking will be required in a number of sections.
Moose country.
Total: 68 miles (7,800')

A little low on the mileage again, largely due to the light weekend volume brought on by poor route finding and time constraints. But it was still a super fun weekend in a truly unique, beautiful and under-visited part of Colorado. Pete and I will be up at State Park for much of the summer figuring the best route possible for next year's Never Summer 100km. If interested, we're planning a preview/scout of the course with any and all that are interested the weekend of July 18/19. We've reserved a couple sites at the Bockman Campground for up to 12 people, but further reservations are probably required at this point if you're interested in joining.

What else? Ah, yes, Western States is less than two weeks away. I really have no idea how this year's race is going to play out. While I feel less prepared than any previous year from a pure fitness standpoint, I also have an inner confidence that I'll still be able to get the job done in a respectable time. I feel little to no pressure to perform, despite putting some fairly aggressive goals out there on the interwebs, which I believe puts me in a good mental spot. I know how to run these things, so I just need to execute on race day. That's it really - no time to be overthinking things now.

Mike and I will be driving out Wednesday evening, getting into the Tahoe area Thursday around noon. We'll need to source some kind of accommodation, likely in the Reno area, and then I'll be speaking on the Veteran's Panel that night with such luminaries of the sport as Karl Meltzer, Meghan Arbogast and Topher Gaylord. How I came to be considered a veteran, I am not quite sure, but it should be a fun evening and hopefully I have some useful nuggets to impart. Consider stopping by if you're in the area.