The group hiking up the slickrock on the approach to Leprechaun Canyon.

Sunday March 24th found us with yet another early pre-dawn start, packing up the tents as the sun’s morning glow illuminated the San Rafael Swell. Today it was off to Leprechaun Canyon south of Hanksville, UT. The three forks of Leprechaun canyon are in a region of Utah known as North Wash, known for its very narrow slot canyons (less than 2ft), so to the point of being extremely dangerous. We parked ourselves at the Sandthrax campground and started our approach hike up the slickrock, quickly gaining elevation all the way to the rimrock high above. We were treated with some sweeping views of the Henry Mts to the South and the deep narrow canyons of North Wash on all sides. We quickly picked up a trail and strolled our way to the head of the East Fork of Leprechaun canyon, the easiest of the three.

Panorama shot of the three forks of Leprechaun Canyon and the Henry Mts on the approach hike.

Ben giving Amanda a deadman belay at the second obstacle. Note the pile of rocks is the main anchor.

Ben showing some good technique, a shoulder stem.

We skipped the first rappel, walking around and exploring the short slot from below, and proceeded into the meat of the canyon, which immediately started off with a 3 tiered drop through a series of potholes. We set up a rappel off a deadman anchor for several of our party, while Basit and I downclimbed. For those unfamiliar with the terminology, a deadman anchor consists of a weight, usually either a pile of rocks or a person, that one secures the rope to. These objects are most often not attached or secured to the canyon itself, simply relying on weight and gravity to hold them in place, sounds fun huh? As we continued to squeeze down canyon we encountered some impressive narrows, stretches of up half a mile at a time where the canyon walls rarely exceeded

Yours truly downclimbing a silo in Leprechaun Canyon. Photo by Ben Smith.

2ft wide. We stemmed, squeezed and chimneyed our way down canyon, setting up a few short rappels along the way, though Basit, Ben and I were able to downclimb all the obstacles without the aid of a rope.

Me, pausing for a photo part way down the final handline aided drop. Photo by Ben Smith.

Near the confluence with the Middle fork the canyon walls finally opened up, just before the final drop, a series of three potholes with a 15ft vertical drop at the end. We opted to set up a handline for this short drop, and simply went hand over hand down the webbing. Once at the confluence we dropped our packs for a little bit of exploration up the Middle Fork into a slot known as Belfast Boulevard, so narrow that we had to walk sideways and couldn’t pass one another once we’d started in. After a little playing around we shouldered the gear and headed down canyon through a dark tunnel which brought us to a large subway section with overhanging sand stone walls towering above a smooth and flat canyon floor. It’s one of those places that reminds you of how small you truly are.

Ben squeezing his way into Belfast Boulevard.

The huge walls of lower Leprechaun, accessible to all by hiking up from the bottom.

We strolled down canyon, soaking in the grandeur of our setting and the warm sun. We soon hit the road and made our way back at the Sandthrax campground, only 4.5hours after we’d started. The East Fork of Leprechaun offers the canyoneer a fun adventure, with lots of scrambling, stemming, downclimbing and chimneying. All of the major obstacles can be downclimbed without a harness/rope by a strong canyoneer, though assistance with handlines and foot spotting is definitely helpful. The Middle Fork and West Fork are much more difficult, so only proceed into those with an experienced crew and all the proper gear.

At the cars we opted to enjoy a little down time, devouring much of our food and stretching our legs before the long drive home. We finally bid Ben and Amanda farewell, as they were headed to Cedar Mesa for the next five days, and hit the road for the long 7.5hour drive back to Boulder, CO. What a weekend, the drive had been well worth all the adventure and good times. There will definitely be more slot canyons in my future, though hopefully I won’t have to wait too long.

Hiking up Long Canyon on the approach to Granary.

After getting snowed out of our canyoneering adventures in Moab in February, it was decided that we’d give it another shot in late March. Friday found us piling into the Subaraus, and headed for the desert for a weekend of canyoneering fun and hopefully snow free adventures (as a storm bared down on the CO Front Range). We awoke early on Saturday in sub-freezing temps, but determined to make our way through Granary Canyon just outside Moab, UT. We slowly packed up our gear and started up the Long Canyon Rd for the 5mile/2400ft approach. As we hiked on up the road the sun began to break over the canyon walls, warming us in opposition to the cold wind blowing in from the NW. We made fairly quick work of the road and started off on the old jeep tracks

and use trails toward the top of Granary Canyon.

Myself, Grant and Amanda surveying the canyon from the first rap station. Photo by Ben Smith

Basit rappeling into the Onion.

Looking back up at raps #1-3. #1 and #2 anchored from the two trees in the middle of the frame. #3 starts right above The Onion.

The route started out with some mellow slickrock walking, a few easy scrambles, and fantastic views of Long Canyon and the other surrounding landscape. We worked our way down the ridge, finally dropping into a large sunny wash where the canyoneering fun would begin. After a short snack break we shouldered the gear and quickly made our way down to the first of a series of four rappels. As with many of the popular canyon adventures, anchors were already built at all the main raps, so we could save our gear for another day. All four rappels came in quick succession, spanning maybe half mile in total, each with its own character (The Snail and The Onion being two of them).

Ben hurdles a pothole in the middle section of Granary Canyon.

At the bottom of the forth rap, the sun was finally beginning to warm us, and the cold wind was blocked by the steep canyon walls, so we took a minute to bask on the warm rocks and grab a snack. Ahead lay a few miles of canyon that only required some scambling, stemming, a butt slide and hiking, no rope work for a little bit. The scrambling was quite enjoyable and freeing, then at last the canyon flattened out, opened up and deposited us on the edge of a 500ft cliff that dropped precipitously down to the Colorado River canyon below. Thankfully the route beta let us know that by traversing the rim for 1mile down to Jug Handle Arch we’d be able to rappel down to “The Granary” for which the canyon is named over a much more manageable 195ft drop.

Ben leading the way down the final 195ft rappel in Granary Canyon.

The views from the rim down to the Colorado and across to the Lasal Mts was quite impressive, and when we reached the final rap station we were happy to sit down and wait for the party ahead of us to finish their rappel. As we waited the sun drifted behind the clouds and cold wind picked back up again, time to get ourselves down. Ben led off the final double rope rap, disappearing into the abyss below. Amanda and Grant followed, then myself and Basit bringing up the rear. We scrambled our way back down to the cars, making for a round trip time of just over 8hours, not bad with our hike up approach and a group of five. Granary canyon offered us a little bit of everything, hiking, scrambling, some group assists, pothole jumps, small and big rappels, along with fantastic scenery.

Photo-op in Little Wildhorse canyon with Scott, Ben, & Amanda.

We headed off to the San Rafael Swell next to meet up with a few friends and camp out for the night. On the drive over, Ben posed an interesting proposition, a night time run of Little Wildhorse and Bell slots. These canyons make up one of the classic slot canyon loops in all of Utah. In approximately 8.5miles one gets to experience several miles of extremely narrow slot canyon, with walls several hundred feet deep at times, lots of interesting rock formations, all in canyons that are accessible to any skill level. After setting up camp with the larger group we were able to talk Scott into joining us for the night run, so off we went right at sunset. Twilight fell as we entered Little Wildhorse and switched on our headlamps as we jogged through the 3-4ft wide slot canyon, bouncing off obstacles and pausing periodically to take a photo or to admire the moonlit rock walls rising on either side. It was a unique experience and my first time ever in a slot canyon at night, one felt very isolated pinched between the narrow rock walls. Near the top of Little Wildhorse the moon rose directly overhead, and we switched off our headlamps, running purely by moonlight through the sandy wash and along the dirt road that connected us over to Bell canyon. We dropped into the wider Bell canyon, running most of the way in silence, enjoying the quiet still night air and being all alone in one of the Swell’s most popular attractions. We soon exited and jogged the last half mile back to our car, completing the loop in just under two hours. In all we’d managed to pack in over 10 hours on our feet, see four fantastic canyons (Long, Granary, Little Wildhorse, Bell) and we still had another day of fun ahead, it was going to be a great weekend.

After a tough start to the winter its been great to get back to running and somewhat normal training (albeit months behind). On Feb 16th I competed in the Moab Red Hot 55k, placing 65th, and finishing in my slowest time ever in the 5 times I’ve run the race. More importantly I came out feeling good after the hard week of training ready to continue the momentum.

March 1st found me flying South, headed to visit my sister at Keesler Airforce Base in Biloxi, MS and bound for the Mississippi50. Flat runnable races aren’t my forte, but I figured this would be a fun vacation and probably my best chance to PR in the 50mile distance (<8h19min), so why the heck not. As it turned out I wasn’t the only Coloradoan heading down South for the race, Kristel would be joining friends from NOLA for the 50k.

Race morning was unusually cold for Mississippi, 31F on the car thermostat, but not bad my Colorado standards. At 6am I was cruising down the dirt road into the De Soto NF along with 200+ other runners competing in the 50mile and 50k. The course consists of two loops; a 12.6mi that I’d run 3x and a 6.1mi that I’d run 2x. A mix of soft single track, muddy creek crossings and fire roads, Longleaf trail is anything but boring. As we cruised through the woods it soon became apparent that staying dry was going to be an effort in futility, so right through the middle of the water/mud I went.

Some not so muddy single track at the MS50.

When I set out that day I had no intention of trying to win, simply to PR, but as we neared mile 30 I found myself with some pop left in the legs so I pushed the second half of lap #3, soon finding myself running all alone in the front of the 50mile. This was a new concept for me, every other time I’ve placed in a race I’d been so far behind the leaders as to not be in contention, but here I was, in first.

As I passed the Start/Finish for the 3^rd time my sister (ran the 20k), brother-in-law, and Kristel (won the women’s 50k) were waiting to cheer me on and help me fill my bottle. I was quickly off onto the first of two 6.1mi laps, knowing- those behind me weren’t far. As I sloshed through the mud and dipped up and down the rolling hills I found myself constantly looking back (only a couple 100yards) for pursuers, none appeared. My legs were starting to fade a bit, but on I pushed, and even though my pace had dropped I started my final lap still in the lead, though as it turned out, not by much.

Start/Finish, just a nice day hanging out in the Mississippi forest.

The final 6.1mi loop was a grind; my legs were heavy and tired, though my energy levels were still good. With about 4mi to go, my right hip seized up, was this really going to be the end of my run? Thankfully after a quick stretch it loosened up and I was able to continue my shuffle. As I crested the last little hill before the finish I glanced back and saw nothing but empty trail. At that point I knew I was going to hold on, this was actually happening. I opened up the pace for that last 1/2mi, no for fear of being caught, but for the excitement of winning my first race. As I neared the finish line there were no big crowds, no party, just a handful of race volunteers and my friends and family. As I crossed the timing mat for the fifth and final time (7h29min13sec) I was filled with elation, exhaustion, but mostly satisfaction. Satisfaction that today I’d pushed myself to the limit, run hard, and for the first time ever my efforts had netted me a win.

My legs were trashed, I was famished (having eaten only 12 Vi Fuel and two handfuls of pretzels in 50mi) and thankful to not have to run anymore. The race director Denis presented me with my 1^st place trophy and a finisher’s belt buckle, and off I went to chow down on red beans and rice, along with M&Ms and chex mix from the aid station. As I refueled, runners slowly trickled in for the 50k and 50mi races, all equally as excited to finish as I’d been, regardless of place or time. This is why I love ultrarunning, for most of us it’s not a competition against your fellow runners, it’s a competition against yourself. What is your body capable of, what is your mind capable of, and can you push yourself to succeed through all the ups and downs a race has to offer?

Kristel & I with our Awards for first in the 50k and 50mi respectively.

Getting ready to chow down at The Shed.

As soon as I got in the car for the ride home, my legs got pissed off at me and cramped up. I tried to stretch out, but soon the fatigue won out and I feel asleep for most of our ride to “The Shed”. My sister, brother-in-law and I enjoyed some good southern BBQ, what better way to recover? In all I’d have to say the trip to Mississippi was a rousing success; fun time with family, making new friends in a very welcoming ultrarunning community, some good southern style BBQ, a 50min PR in the 50mi distance, and my first ever race win. I highly recommend all runners out there venture away from their regular backyard races to somewhere new. There are many great races and great ultrarunning communities around the country, it’s a shame that we so seldom get a chance to meet up and share the trails. Run strong, run fast, but mostly run happy.

Recovery stroll along the white sand beaches near Biloxi, MS.