Monthly Archives: October 2013

Running Into the Past

Sunset over Canyon del Muerto, night before race day.

Sunset over Canyon del Muerto, night before race day.

In early 2013 a friend, and Navajo, informed me that for the first time ever a public ultra marathon race was going to be held in Canyon de Chelly, AZ. While I’d heard of the canyon, I definitely did not know much about it, though the more I read, the more intrigued I became and knew that I could not pass up the opportunity to explore a place that is usually only made available to the public via specially guided tours. Canyon de Chelly sits right smack dab in the middle of the Navajo Reservation in Arizona. After dropping out of UTMB with a knee injury, I was unsure whether I’d be healthy enough to run and finish the Canyon de Chelly 55k, but after three solid weeks of rest, recovery and rehab I was able to get a few 12-15mile runs in. I was definitely no where near peak form, but I felt as though I could complete the race and thus couldn’t miss out on the opportunity to experience the canyon and the Navajo culture first hand.

Runners at the start line of the Canyon de Chelly 55k.

Runners at the start line of the Canyon de Chelly 55k.

Saturday October 12th runners gathered around the bonfire in an attempt too escape the 35F chill that greeted us. One of the local Navajo stepped forward and led us in a traditional Navajo morning prayer as we greeted the rising sun. After an additional moment of silence the race director, Shaun Martin, herded us over to the small starting gate for our 7am-ish start. No starting gun, instead Shaun sent us off by leading us in a loud whoop, and down the sandy wash we went, toward the rising sun. I cruised down the first few miles of sand, thankfully wet from a light rain, and into the mouth of the canyon. The red sandstone walls rose slowly from the sandy wash, but soon they engulfed us, towering 500ft above on all sides. The double track road in the wash bottom was a mix of packed sand and dirt, and made for fairly easy running. As I cruised into the White House aid station I became aware that I had no desire to ‘race’ that day, and that I was perfectly content to just enjoy the beautiful run and take in the pristine surroundings.

Morning sun touching down on the cottonwoods and the valley floor.

Morning sun touching down on the cottonwoods and the valley floor.

From White House on I ran alone, sure there were other people around, but I barely noticed them as my mind was in its own world. As I cruised up the canyon, through the numerous stream crossings, the massive sandstone walls continued to rise and signs of life began to appear. The barren wash had given away to a stream bed lined with cottonwood trees, showing just a hint of gold in their leaves. Small hogans dotted the valley floor, its inhabitants living in the style long forgotten by most. Here there were no department stores, no McDonalds, no Apple Store, no electricity, just the land and its inhabitants. Wild horses roamed the meadows and the only noises that broke the silence were the occasional rumbling of a jeep down the road and the loud whoops let out by the other runners. Where a western man like John Muir would preach for people to “go in silence…”, the Navajo prefer to announce their presence to the canyon and its inhabitants, so we were also encouraged to do so by Shaun.

Runner passing by Spider Rock.

Runner passing by Spider Rock.

As I continued to run the easy rolling road my eyes wandered the canyon; from rocky alcoves to ancient ruins, petroglyphs to modern hogans, the one word that kept coming into my mind was serene. While the canyon was beautiful, its architecture stunning, there are many other canyons that would rival its soaring sandstone walls and geologic beauty, but what Canyon de Chelly has that Zion, Grand Canyon, Buckskin Gulch don’t is a sense of purity and tradition. Entering the canyon is like stepping back in time, into a culture that existed long before Europeans arrived on these shores, long before the white man ‘civilized’ the West, where inhabitants tried to live in harmony with their surroundings.

Ascending the Bat Canyon trail, woohoo rocks.

Ascending the Bat Canyon trail, woohoo rocks.

After nearly two hours of running I rounded one of the many bends the canyon, but this time I was greeted by an 800ft pillar of rock towering overhead, Spider Rock. The first rays of sun were just beginning to penetrate the 1500ft canyon walls, illuminating just the tip of Spider Rock and a few select spots on the valley floor. To the Navajo Spider Rock is sacred, a place where it is said the Spider Woman lives, watching over and protecting the Navajo. The sight of this soaring spire rising from the middle of the confluence of two canyons must even give pause to the most unaware Westerner, as its majestic beauty can’t be denied. Just after Spider Rock our route turned up BatCanyon and onto the rocky Bat Trail, finally some technical hills, my favorite! I hike/jogged up the rocky slopes and through the final scramble to the BatCanyon aid station and turn around.

I took off bombing down the fun rocky technical trail and back onto the single track, and eventually double track in the canyon bottom. The sun’s full rays now warmed the cottonwood lined trail as I continued my steady pace, this time down canyon back toward Chinle. I stopped quite a few times to take photos, video and even paused by Spider Rock to have another runner snap a shot of me. I was in no hurry, but when I was moving I kept a steady pace, just enjoying cruising through the peaceful cottonwood lined valley. By the time I had reached the White House aid station I’d passed maybe half a dozen people and figured I was borderline top 10, thus finally decided to do a little racing. I pushed a little harder, dug down, and told myself that no matter what I wasn’t allowed to walk any of the last 5.5miles to the finish.

Towering walls of Canyon de Chelly, headed back down canyon.

Towering walls of Canyon de Chelly, headed back down canyon.

The Top 9 finishers at the 2013 Canyon de Chelly 55k.

The Top 9 finishers at the 2013 Canyon de Chelly 55k.

The last several miles were a grind, with several miles of now sandy wash to navigate. Finally at 5hours 19min I crossed the finish line in 8th place, woohoo. Not a bad day’s work considering I’d been in cruise control for 29miles and had taken forty photos and 5-10min of video along the way. As it turns out 8th was good enough to net me a Navajo fleece blanket, along with the standard finisher handmade turquoise necklace. In all the event had been a fantastic experience, one that had started before the race but did not conclude with me crossing the finish line. I am very grateful to Shaun Martin and the Navajo for allowing me to experience their culture in such a unique way, and for sharing their home and backyard. I would love a chance to explore more of the canyon, to see more of the history and the ruins, but that will have to wait for another day. Shaun is hopeful that the Canyon de Chelly Ultra will become a mainstay and that each year he will be able to share this special experience with a small intimate crowd of enthusiastic ultra runners, and I hope he and all future entrants do get this chance. Special thanks to Hind clothing for supporting my adventures and to Vfuel for fueling the long days on the trail. Run fast, run healthy, but mostly run happy.

Giving Back

Lead runners at UROC nearing Frisco, 9/28/13.

Lead runners at UROC nearing Frisco, 9/28/13.

Sometimes we get so caught up in our own lives we neglect to see what else is going on around us. I’m definitely guilty of this oh so often, but this weekend I was able to step back and focus on helping out a few friends in need.

Jason running the long paved road section over Vail Pass, at least the scenery was nice, 9/28/13.

Jason running the long paved road section over Vail Pass, at least the scenery was nice, 9/28/13.

On Saturday 9/28 I awoke early for a drive to Summit County to crew my friend Jason as he ran the UROC 100km from Breckenridge to Vail. I got into Frisco (20km) early and was able to snag a cold morning run (28F!) on the course to cheer on the lead runners. Jason started out strongly, cruising through Frisco and CopperMountain, but as he approached VailPass his knee started to bug him a little bit. He pushed on through Vail pass, but somewhere along the 12miles of bike path he lost his lunch, and his stomach wouldn’t be the same. As Jason ran toward Minturn, I snuck in another run, this time through the golden aspens along Cross Creek. It felt great to be up in the high country again, running without pain. I met up with Kate and Jason’s wife Meggan in Minturn, and we all awaited Jason’s arrival, which came at 8:45pm. His stomach had settled a little, but he wasn’t eating much, but could still mix in a slow shuffle. We got him changed, and Kate led him back up to the Vail ridgelines and down into Vail. At 16h51min Jason and Kate came cruising out of the darkness off the ski slopes of Vail, and across the finish line of the UROC 100km race, finishing his first 100km race and earning the <17h belt buckle in the process. It was great to be a part of helping Jason achieve this goal and do so with a smile on his face (most of the time). Full UROC photo album available here.

Jason and Kate crossing the finish line at the UROC 100km, just under 17h.

Jason and Kate crossing the finish line at the UROC 100km, just under 17h.

Arriving at Ed's home in Lyons, CO lots of debris and cleanup to be done, 9/29/13.

Arriving at Ed’s home in Lyons, CO lots of debris and cleanup to be done, 9/29/13.

Sunday 9/29 found me in a much different location, LyonsColorado, to help ‘Igloo’ Ed begin the massive job of attempting to clean the flood debris off his property. As we passed through the Army controlled checkpoint we began to see hints of the devastation that awaited us in Lyons. As we rolled through downtown everything looked normal, except the complete absence of electricity. The scene quickly changed as we crossed the Saint Vrain river to the South side of town, mounds of debris were piled against and around houses, new river channels appeared everywhere and numerous structures were bent or broken. As we turned onto Ed’s street we passed by house after house in various states of damage and decay, 6ft high piles of household debris, organic matter and asphalt lined the street. In south Lyons the North and South Saint Vrain rivers collide, draining massive expanses of land upstream, funneling right into town.

Household debris and river debris piled high along what remains of the road, 9/29/13.

Household debris and river debris piled high along what remains of the road, 9/29/13.

We pulled up to Ed’s house and surveyed the scene; a gutted garage, a basement holding 6-12″ of water and tons of rock, mud and organic debris buried the yard, several feet deep at times. As I walked through the rest of the neighborhood I was nearly brought to tears; seeing homes lifted off foundations, 3ft diameter trees nestled against tilting structures, homes filled with 3-4ft of mud and debris, cars flipped upside down, a motorcycle wrapped around a tree, personal belongings waterlogged and destroyed. Many people’s lives were washed away with the raging torrents that peaked several feet above the banks. This neighborhood was the epicenter of the damage, every house was tagged with either an orange sticker (enter at your own risk) or a red sticker (uninhabitable).

Our goal for the day was fairly simple, but monumental at the same time; to dig a drainage ditch from Ed’s house down the street so that he could get the water out of the basement and to remove all the organic debris from the property so it could be picked up a few days later. We set to work on the ditch first, digging about 50-70ft of trench so that as the water was pumped out of the basement it wouldn’t pool near any houses, success. Then came the big task of removing all the organic matter from around the house, garage and property. One of the most astonishing things about the flood was the amount of debris the water moved with it; thousands of tons of silt, seemingly whole forests, full grown trees as big as 3-4ft in diameter, and innumerable other bits of garbage washed down from locations unknown.

House on the right was moved off its foundation, in front of me used to be a driveway. None of these rocks were here a month ago, 9/29/13.

House on the right was moved off its foundation, in front of me used to be a driveway. None of these rocks were here a month ago, 9/29/13.

As we untangled treelimbs, roots, vines and various other matter from Ed’s porch, the description that came up over and over again was, “rats nest”. Things were so tangled and intertwined one could not simply pull them out, so one person cut and lopped away large piles of the debris, while another raked it up and piled it along the street. Once we freed the porch our next duty was the garage; tilted about 10 degrees to the right and filled with 2-3ft of silt and debris. This one proved much trickier, as we continually unearthed large treelimbs that required the chainsaw to break them up before they could be dug out. Chris, Misti and I tag teamed the effort, making good progress. As we were starting to wrap up our task, a few gentlemen from the Salvation Army stopped in to say hello, they offered us cold Gatorade and M&Ms (also sandwiches and water, because there are no services in town), hell yeah! Next time you see someone ringing a bell asking for donations to the Salvation Army, think of this and how the little things they do (and bigger thinks) can make a huge difference for those truly in need.

Chris and Misti starting the cleanup in Ed's garage, the river deposited all the rocks and mud here (and throughout town), 9/29/13.

Chris and Misti starting the cleanup in Ed’s garage, the river deposited all the rocks and mud here (and throughout town), 9/29/13.

Unfortunately since Misti, Chris and I had all only slept around 4hours the night before by early afternoon we were fading and had to wrap it up and head out. We bid Ed farewell, and wished him luck, all pledging to make it back up to help out in some way at a later date. While we’d been successful in moving much of the organic debris off the property and getting the drainage ditch dug, the amount of work remaining is pretty incredible. Several feet of dirt and rock need to be bulldozed off the property, the garage probably needs to be torn down, the basement needs to be dried out and assessed for damage, electrical, sewer, water and gas lines need to be replaced (utility companies), then comes the process of rebuilding everything.

The town of Lyons may never be the same after this disaster, but the strength of the community and of the friends and family supporting it are incredible. Not only were local friends and family assisting in the cleanup, but groups from Missouri, Florida, New York, Kansas and California were out to assist in the massive cleanup effort. I would urge any of you with a free day to find a way to volunteer in one of the disaster zones and help someone try and put the pieces of their life back together, every little bit helps. I know many of my friends were willing to donate countless hours to rebuild the Boulder trails (I as well), but after being apart of the real cleanup effort, I’d urge you to put the resources where they are truly needed, into getting someone back into their home. The Boulder Mudslingers are one good group for those who want to volunteer or I can put you in touch with my friend Ed (email me). All this has made me truly appreciate how lucky I was, and that sometimes we need to unravel ourselves from our own lives and take a good look at what’s going on around us.