Revisiting the Rim-to-Rim-to-Rim

Panorama from Grandview Point

We ran where yesterday? I’m pretty sure that question was asked several times as we stood on the South Rim at Grandview Point admiring the morning shadows dancing through the Grand Canyon. The previous day 9 of us had set out to complete the famous Rim-to-Rim-to-Rim  (R2R2R) run across the Grand Canyon (and back), and thankfully everyone succeeded, though some were a little less spry than others.

When the original invite went out to organize a group to head to the Grand Canyon my initial thought was, I’d already done it twice, why do it again in lieu of something different? But as the months drew nearer, the group logistics began to fall into place, and I realized how distant those memories of my last Grand Canyon trip were (8 years ago) and how much I missed the desert and needed a little time wandering the red rocks, so I was 100% in. As the date drew closer I was surprised to learn that I was the only one of the group of 11 that had ever done the R2R2R, and one of only a few who had even been to the canyon, what a treat it was going to be sharing this experience with so many that had never experienced the wonder of dropping 5000ft into the depths of one of the most surreal natural landscapes.

So Jake, Doug and I packed up our shit in my little Subaru, squeezed in Jefferson as a last minute addition and hit the road around 630p on Thursday headed for a late night camp out at Rabbit Valley (the CO/UT border). On Friday most of the folks who had never seen the canyon wanted to get down there a little earlier to take in the views, but I was able to convince Doug and Jefferson to join me on a little side adventure into Hogwarts canyon in the North Wash region. We grabbed our harnesses and belay devices, I stuffed some extra biners, webbing and cord in my backpack and Jefferson shouldered my 200ft rope and we set off from Hwy95 for the 2.5mi round-trip canyoneering adventure. The route finding was pretty straight forward and we soon found ourselves at the top of the first rappel, leading into the narrowing canyon below. We spent the next hour and change rappelling, scrambling, taking lots of photos and just enjoying the silence of the slot canyon. We soon popped out back at the road only 1/2mi from the car and continued our drive to the Grand Canyon (2:15 quick canyoneering adventure).

Second rappel down the Hogwarts canyon narrows.

Squeezing and scrambling the narrows of Hogwarts makes one feel like a kid again.

After passing through the Grand Canyon East entrance we approached the edge of the South Rim, our first views into the canyon, and got a treat of exactly how F-ing huge the Big Ditch truly is, “we’re running where”? After some last minute packing and planning, we shoveled down dinner and tried to hit the hay earlier for our 4am wake-up call. The alarms went off between 330-4a and we all slowly stirred ourselves awake in the chilly morning air. We shoved all the necessary gear into our running packs, wrapped ourselves in down coats and drove over to the trailhead. Since one can’t park at the actual trailhead for the South Kaibab trail, we parked in some pullouts along the main park road, begrudgingly threw our warm jackets into the cars and jogged down the road to the South Kaibab trail under a moonless but glitteringly starry sky.

The whole gang at the start ready to drop into the canyon a 4:45am.

In the pre-dawn light our group of 9 followed a train of headlamps down into the canyon, negotiating switchback after switchback. As we neared Cedar Ridge civil twilight began to slowly illuminate the massive buttes and towers of the canyon, and for the first time on the trip we started to get a sense of how ‘grand’ the canyon really is. We were only a fraction of the way down the steep South Kaibab trail, and there was a lot more trail ahead of us. The purple, pink and red hues of the morning light on the rocks had us all gaping almost as much as running, we stopped to take photos every few minutes, and why not, the views were stunning. The excitement level was on 10 and we all felt so fortunate to be physically capable of undertaking such a crazy wonderful experience. Despite this being my third R2R2R I felt like a kid in a candy store, while the views were vaguely familiar, the sheer joy, wonder and excitement of running down into the canyon was no less than the first time I visited.

Morning light illuminating the canyon walls as we drop down the South Kaibab.

Jefferson perfectly encapsulates how we were all feeling that morning.

Descending to the Colorado River and the Black Bridge.

We jogged our way across the Black Bridge over the Colorado and into Phantom Ranch for our first refill and official break of the day. After Phantom we entered The Box canyon, one of my favorite portions of the run. The red and black rock walls rose hundreds of feet vertically above our heads, as the tranquil Bright Angel creek slowly gurgled along side. Occasionally a slot canyon would pop in from the side, but for the most part we were trapped by the narrow walls. This isolating feeling is one of the things I really love about the desert canyons, you have two choices, forward or backward, surrounded by the impenetrable but beautifully colored rocks. As we ran up The Box the group started to separate a little, but we regularly regrouped to share the join and wonder and take numerous photos, and soon found ourselves at the ranger cabin (AKA Manzanita). After a water refill and a snack off up to the North Rim we went.

Runners entering The Box canyon.

Shelf trail in The Box alongside Bridal Veil creek.

I was feeling a bit spunky so decided to get the legs moving a bit and pushed on ahead up the never-ending switchbacks to the Supai tunnel where I laid down in the shade for a short nap. Ben, Jefferson, Adam and I regrouped at the Supai tunnel before striking out on the final steep push to the North rim where we arrived in just over 6.5hours. It was cool and shady at the trailhead where we relaxed for a bit waiting for the others to catch-up. We all regrouped on the North Rim around 7hours after leaving the cars, half way done with our journey, now we just had to get home…..

Climbing up toward the North Rim, note the trail on the right.

Hanging out at the North Rim trailhead in the cool air.

With a long 21mile grind ahead of us I opted to forge ahead on the technical but runnable downhill from the North Rim. I whipped around switchback after switchback back down into the depths of the canyon, across the shelf trail and before I knew it I was back at the ranger cabin. After a quick water refill and dousing (it was getting warm) it was off on the long dry stretch back to Phantom Ranch. I was well ahead of the rest of the group at this point so figured I was running it solo back to the car. I took my time down Bright Angel creek, just cruising the rolling terrain and focusing on hydrating and keeping cool. I passed a few other runners and hikers, but it was actually a surprisingly quiet day on the trail. I finally arrived back at Phantom Ranch, a bit toasty from the constant sun exposure, but overall in good spirits. Good thing too, because I knew what lay ahead, 4500ft of relentless climbing in the hot sun back to the South Rim, oh joy.

Cacti blooming along the trail near Cottonwood Creek CG.

Back at the Black Bridge and trying to mentally prepare for the long climb ahead.

I felt pretty good and was optimistic at making it back to the South rim before the 12h mark, but the canyon quickly told me otherwise. About half a dozen switchbacks up I could feel the lethargy and fatigue building, just too much time in the sun and a bit dehydrated. I started setting small goal, moving from shady spot to shady spot (under rock outcroppings), in order to take a short reprieve from the sun before moving onward. The time dragged by, each switchback seemed to take longer and longer, but upward I went. Finally I hit Cedar Ridge, the temperature cooled and I trudged on, just a little faster, making the South Rim at around 12h15min after starting out. Not my fastest time across the canyon, but a solid day in a stunning place. After returning to the car to rehydrate and fuel, I lugged some extra food and water back to the trailhead (3/4mi) to await the arrival of the rest of the crew. Jefferson wasn’t too far behind, then came Ben and Adam, and just after dark the rest of the crew trudged their way back up to the rim. The South Kaibab trail had thoroughly beaten us all down, but it hadn’t dampened our spirits at what an amazing day it had been. The canyon had shown us just a small fraction of her vast beauty, and had also reminded us that none of us are stronger than nature, and that we are merely guests in this amazing temple.

The moment that you look up and realize its a really long F-ing way to the top.

Cumulative effect of 9hours in the sun, feeling a bit cooked.

While I ran the second crossing solo, being able to share the canyon with good friends definitely made for a wonderful experience. Stopping at every view point to pose for photos, marveling at the massive walls and letting our senses immerse themselves in one of the most magical landscapes in the world. A place we are fortunate enough to have protected for us to enjoy in the crazy manner that we deem appropriate (running 42miles/11k ft). The Grand Canyon R2R2R is not something to be taken lightly, but it should definitely be on every ultrarunners bucket list. Special thanks to Vfuel for keeping me powered, to Lauren and Brad for proposing such a wonderful idea and letting us share in the Birthday celebration (for both Lauren and Adam), and all the rest of the Rocky Mountain Runners for the company along the journey. Just remember to respect the canyon, leave it better than you found it, and help protect it for future generations to come.

Adam fully feeling the effects of spending 14hours in the canyon.

“In the Grand Canyon, Arizona has a natural wonder which is in kind absolutely unparalleled throughout the rest of the world. I want to ask you to keep this great wonder of nature as it now is. I hope you will not have a building of any kind, not a summer cottage, a hotel or anything else, to mar the wonderful grandeur, the sublimity, the great loneliness and beauty of the canyon. Leave it as it is. You cannot improve on it. The ages have been at work on it, and man can only mar it.” – Teddy Roosevelt

Sunset from the South Kaibab TH over the Grand Canyon.

Finding the Groove

Well, it was bound to happen eventually, but after 547days (1year 6months) I reinitiated my life as a weekend warrior. Meaning, I’m back working full time and doing my best at adulting once again. People have asked if I’m sad to be back working again, and honestly, no (well maybe a little). I had an amazing 18months of Funployment. Adventures I hadn’t even thought possible, I met so many amazing people, opened my eyes to all new experiences and cultures and brought emotions into my life that I never expected. From wandering the temples of Angkor, swimming with bioluminescent plankton in the gulf of Thailand, trekking across Nepal, playing soccer with my Nepalese school children, watching sunrise over the valley of Bagan, sharing meals with Burmese locals (who spoke no English), watching lava flow into the Pacific ocean, living in Torres del Paine NP with the locals to wandering the Colombian countryside. I can’t even begin to describe how the accumulation of all these moments (and so many more) has changed me and affected my views, but I can definitively say its opened my eyes to a much bigger world, one I’ve only begun to scratch the surface of.

Nepal and Annapurna, Nov 2016.

While I know its not possible for everyone to take 18months off to wander the world and do what I’ve done, I would highly recommend everyone take some time in their life to put themselves into a new environment, to expand their world and to learn that our culture and viewpoints are far from the only one. But for now, its back to ‘ordinary’ life in Colorado, which I’d say is far from ordinary. Pre/post work runs and scrambles, weekend back country ski trips, climbing mountains and running around all over the place. Many may not consider being home an adventure, but I feel blessed that the place I get to call home offers up so many wonderful opportunities and some great friends to share it with.

Running around Boulder, the scenery is pretty darn nice.

Powder day near East Portal, all smiles.

 

Scrambling obscure flatirons in January with friends.

Backcountry hut trip near Aspen, CO.

It’s snowing, so why not go for a run up a mountain? RMR usual Monday jaunt.

For those who are curious, I’ve taken a full-time position with the company miRagen in Gunbarrel as part of their pre-clinical Immunology team. In short I’ll be doing early stage drug testing for a litany of health issues including; lymphoma/leukemia, fibrosis, neurodegenerative diseases and ocular inflammation. Sadly I can’t divulge any more in writing, but you’re welcome to read more about the company here (or ask me in person). While losing some of my daily freedom is a bit of a bummer, it feels great to once again be engaging my brain and working on projects aiming to improve human health.

Yardsale of gear before heading underground into the caves of Carlsbad, NM.

Adulting doesn’t seem so bad for now, but I’ll admit my day dreaming continues. There are so many places left to visit, cultures left to experience, new adventures left to explore. Just because you don’t have unrestricted free time doesn’t mean this type of adventure can’t be apart of your life, though admittedly it does take a bit more effort to make it happen. But what’s more important is to never forget to appreciate each day and all the wonderful things it brings. Whether that means watching the sunrise on your daily commute, laughs and sharing knowledge with coworkers, runs on your backyard trails, beers and non-sense with friends or just some quite time with the special person in your life. You only get one shot at each moment, so why not appreciate it for everything that it is?

Pinnacles National Park Ultra

It’s been quite some time since I’ve written anything here, but life has been far from boring during the past three months. Mostly I’ve just been enjoying being home, catching up with friends, wandering around Colorado and Utah and even doing a bit of work. Though the international travels have been put on hold as I search for full time employment, it doesn’t mean the adventures have stopped. During a week long holiday visit back to California, I took advantage of some nice weather to head to Pinnacles National Park to complete my 11th National Park Ultramarathon (12/28/17).

Sunrise along Hwy101 enroute to Pinnacles National Park.

My mom and I made the drive down to this lesser known park just South of San Jose, CA where she dropped me off at the visitor center near the East Entrance. I began my morning jogging along the Bench trail into Pinnacles on a chilly (31F) California winter day. The trails were beautiful smooth double track as I cruised up the dry wash past the Old Pinnacles TH and onto the Balconies trail. Volcanic rock cliffs rose up all around me, and the dry river bed all of a sudden disappeared into Balconies Cave. I pulled out my headlamp and hopped my way into the darkness, twisting around giant boulders, scampering up rock staircases and ducking under a series of chock stones before finally reappearing on the other side. A neat little detour before returning to the smooth double track and arriving at the Chaparral TH (5.6mi, 1h1min) for a quick water refill.

Running along the Old Pinnacles trail enroute to Balconies Cave.

The hall of chockstones in Balconies Cave.

After the Chaparral TH is when the fun began, as I followed the swooping Juniper Trail up up up to the Tunnel trail and into the heart of the rock formations that make up Pinnacles National Park. The trail was never too steep, but steadily climbed up to the junction with the High Peaks trail where I hung a right and ascended some steep cut rock stairs to a spectacular view of the valley laid out below. Rock spires jutted out of the mountainside all around, though I wasn’t lucky enough to see one of the famed California condors soaring overhead. After another short section of rock stairs the trail smoothed out and I cruised on down toward Bear Gulch Reservoir, only briefly stopping for a few photos and to chat with my Mom as she hiked up the High Peaks trail.

View down from the Tunnel trail, rocks rocks everywhere.

Some of the rock stairs cut into the High Peaks trail.

I paused briefly at Bear Gulch Reservoir (10mi, 2h) to take in the little oasis amongst the dry chaparral, and then promptly setoff on the trail to the Chalone Peaks, a steady 1800ft climb to the high point of the park. Though the sun was beating down on me the chaparral was tall enough in spots to provide a little shade from the December sunshine. I made good time hike/jogging my way up to the fire tower atop North Chalone peak (13.3mi, 2h50min), taking in the panoramic view of the High Peaks region of the park and the valley far below. After a quick snack I was off to South Chalone Peak on the ‘unmaintained’ trail, which turned out to be a pleasant rough single track. The view from the far point of South Chalone Peak was uninspiring and hazy, so I skipped the true summit and headed back the way I came.

Bear Gulch Reservoir, tucked in amongst the rocks.

Panoramic views of the park from just below North Chalone Peak.

The jog back to Bear Gulch Res was uneventful as I cruised on down the smooth trail in the warm sunshine. This time around the reservoir was teaming with dozens of tourists, so I quickly scampered on by and down into Bear Gulch Cave. After winding my way around the giant boulders that plugged up the valley bottom I popped out on the Moses springs trail by accident, so followed that back into the madness that was the Bear Gulch day use area (20.7mi, 4h25min). I could feel the fatigue setting in at this point, as I definitely wasn’t trained for a 27mi trail day. As I ascended the Condor Gulch trail I again ran into my mother nearing the end of her hike. The trail was hot and sunny, but the views up into the rock formations of the High Peaks were stunning. I kept a sharp eye out for condors, but no such luck again. After cresting the climb at the High Peaks trail junction it was all downhill back to the East Entrance. The final bit went by uneventfully as I cruised the smooth double track down valley and into the campground. I finished off the 26.6mi (GPS Watch) loop in 5h41min, one could definitely run it faster, and there are many options to cut the distance down into smaller segments if you’re not up for 27miles.

Bear Gulch Cave, more of a plugged up canyon, but still fun.

Looking up Condor Gulch toward the High Peaks section of the park.

My legs were tired and a bit sore, but it had been a beautiful day of running, scrambling and photographing one of America’s lesser known parks. While Pinnacles may not live up to the standard set by Yosemite, Glacier, Zion or Yellowstone it offers up a look into some beautiful volcanic formations, filled with elusive condors and lesser known species like the California Red-legged frog. This coupled with the fact that the trails are beautifully runnable make it a worthwhile destination if you’re visiting the Bay Area (or live there). As the National Park project moves forward I’m slowly learning more and more about the diverse ecosystems and geology that make our country so amazing and unique, each piece of the puzzle makes for the spectacular system of National Parks that I hope we can preserve for the future generations. Thanks to Vfuel for powering my runs and Ultrarnnner Training for keeping me focused, even when a definitive goal doesn’t exist.

A Year on the Road (The Traveler’s Life)

For those of us in the United States September 11th has a fairly profound meaning, for me it also marks the date I started my year of unemployment (in 2016). I kept finding excuse after excuse of why I couldn’t or shouldn’t quit my job and take some time off, but finally after my failed attempt on the Colorado 14ers in 2016 I realized…there would never be a perfect time or situation, and sometimes you just need to take a leap into the deep end and see what the life takes you. Leaving a job where I enjoyed the work and the people was hard, but it was time for a change, and there was simply too much of the world out there which I had not experienced and explored.

It’s impossible to fully summarize everything that’s happened to me, all the people I’ve met or everything that I’ve experienced, but I can say that it’s far exceeded any expectations I could even have dreamed of. I’ve wandered the 1000year old temples of Angkor, swam with bioluminescent plankton, glimpsed the Milky Way shining above an 8000m peak (and watched an avalanche rage down it), climbed to 5416m altitude and was mistaken dozens of times for a Nepalese guide, volunteered in a Nepalese school, watched sunrise/sunsets from the temples of Bagan, was invited to dinner (3x) by Burmese people with whom I shared no common language, watched lava flow into the ocean, had all my identity/credit cards/cell phone stolen, spent six weeks running around Patagonia, got to live and work in Torres del Paine with the rangers and build trails, wandered the Atacama desert, played Tejo (look it up, its awesome), ran around the slot canyons, redwoods, Glaicer NP and Canada, watched a total solar eclipse (unreal) and visited many old friends and made countless new friends.

There are so many clichés that are applicable; YOLO, carpe diem, wanderlust, and on and on…I would not have traded this year off for anything, and hope that many of you out there have the chance to experience even a little piece of the journey I was so fortunate to have been on. Just remember, if you’re waiting for the perfect opportunity, it may never come, but if you put yourself out there into the unknown I highly doubt you’ll regret it. And for those asking, yes I’m back looking for jobs in the Boulder, CO area so if you know any immunology/cell biology labs hiring, hit me up. I’ll let the following collection of some of my favorite photos from the travels tell the rest of the story…and yes it was even more amazing than the photos.

Early morning kayak in Khao Sok NP, Thailand.

Temples of Ankor in Cambodia.

Sunrise on Koh Rong during a 4 nights stay at Suns of Beaches, amazing and unexpected island life in Cambodia.

Kyanjin Gompa and the quiet magnificence of the Langtang Valley, Nepal.

Roof top breakfast in Gyharu with views of Annapurna, Annapurna circuit Nepal.

Kicho Tal along the Annapurna Circuit, Nepal.

Thorung La Pass, 5416m, highest elevation I’ve ever been. Nepal.

Annapurna Basecamp with Steve, what a view. Nepal.

The Milky Way and Annapurna, Nepal.

Chatting with some of my students in Shishaghat, Nepal.

Enjoying sunrise over Bagan with new friends, Myanmar,

Making new friends, both fellow travelers and local. Inle Lake, Myanmar.m

Epic sunsets from Napili beach on Maui. It had been almost 10years, way too long.

Lava flowing into the ocean in Volcanoes National Park, Hawaii.

Marveling at the Torres, in Torres del Paine Nacional Parque, Chile.

Running around the trails of Tierra del Fuego and Ushuaia, Argentina.

A week of trail running with Fitz Roy as the backdrop, not so bad. El Chalten, Argentina.

Sunrise over Paine Grande town, pinch me, because this can’t be real…. Torres del Paine, Chile.

Digging in the dirt and building trails in Torres del Paine with new friends, Chile.

Taking a moment to relax in the mountains outside Bariloche, Argentina.

Playing around in the salt flats of the Atacama desert, Chile.

Buckskin Gulch exploration, Utah desert.

Scrambling around Ding and Dang canyon with Ely and Kaytlyn, Utah desert.

Running around Redwood NP, finishing in the amazing Fern Canyon, California.

Romping around the wax palms in the Valle de Cocora. Salento, Colombia.

Looking down the North side of Piegan Pass, this place is pretty awesome. Glacier National Park, Montana.

Summit of Cirque Peak in the Canadian Rockies, Banff NP.

North American total eclipse 2017 from Borah Peak, Idaho.

Good to be back home for the regular Rocky Mountain Runners Monday run up Green Mountain, Boulder, CO. Photo courtesy of Guy Love.

Grand Glacier National Park Loop

Field of Bear Grass on the way up Piegan Pass.

My eyes darted left, then right, nervously responding to every sound I heard in the underbrush. I was only 2miles into my 50mile+ loop around Glacier but I’d been following a set of fresh bear prints for almost a mile through dense foliage. This is how my adventure started, thankfully Mr Bear decided to wander off elsewhere and the concerns were never realized.

Approaching Piegan Pass from the South.

When I first looked at the map of Glacier National Park I had trouble conceiving of a loop that showcased the central mountains and glaciers. I came up with several point to points (Highline Logan Pass to Canada, East to West to East) but couldn’t figure out a logical loop that really touched on most of what makes Glacier so amazing. One day while thumbing through backpacking trip reports I happened across a report talking about the often traveled ‘Floral Park traverse’, ah ha! This 9.5mile off-trail route connected Hidden Lake with Comeau Pass providing the missing link I’d been looking for, now all I needed was the time and energy to run 50miles in the mountains.

Looking down the North side of Piegan Pass, this place is pretty awesome.

I awoke at 330am on Monday August 8th, immediately hopped in the car and began the 1.5h drive to the Jackson Overlook along Going-to-the-Sun Road. I left the road at 5:40am thrashing my way through the brush toward Piegan Pass. After unnervingly following some fresh grizzly prints for a little over a mile, the terrain finally opened up and I settled in to simply enjoying the beauty. The smokey rays of sunrise glowed orange on the surrounding mountains and a gentle breeze blew over the pass. As I crested Piegan Pass I was stopped dead in my tracks, a sheer 1000ft wall guarded the left side of the valley, green flower filled meadows (and the trail) arced down the right side, while turquoise lakes dotted the valley floor as waterfalls tumbled off cliffs in between, it was gonna be a good day. The trail down the North side of Piegan Pass can only be described as euphoric, beautifully swooping switchbacks through some of the most stunning scenery I’ve had a chance to lay eyes on. I cruised on past Grinnell Lake, around the West shore of Josephine Lake (following more bear tracks) and finally reached the Swiftcurrent Lake TH (13mi, 3:15), refilled my water and jogged on down the road to the Swiftcurrent Pass trail.

Looking back across Josephine Lake near the Swiftcurrent TH.

The rear end of a grizzly near the Swiftcurrent TH, thankfully as close as I got to one.

Half a mile down the trail I came across a large group of people standing on the bridge across Wilbur Creek, and was a bit surprised to see them all gawking at a grizzly bear lumbering on up the river. One guy even had a camera in one hand and his uncapped bear spray canister in the other….really people? I left them behind and jogged along the rolling trail up Swiftcurrent creek, past numerous glacial lakes, until I finally reached the end of the valley and looked straight up 2300ft of switchbacks to Swiftcurrent Pass somewhere high above. I zig zagged my way up to the pass (stream about ½ way up) and was greeted by Heaven’s Peak front and center (20.5miles, 5:20). After a brief stop in at the Glacier Chalet it was off on the Highline trail toward Logan Pass. This was the first truly busy section of trail I hit, with constant traffic both directions, but everyone was friendly and most let me jog on past. This undulating section of trail hugs a high traverse along the Garden Wall and is beautifully runnable with fantastic views, deserving of its popularity.

Redrock Lake reflection on the way up Swiftcurrent Pass.

View of Heaven’s Peak from Swiftcurrent Pass.

Running the Highline trail toward Haystack Butte.

At last I popped out on the Going-to-the-Sun road at Logan Pass (30mi, 7:15), shnikies! I was back in the throngs, hundreds of people milling about, road jammed with cars, shuttles running up and down both sides of the pass, eek. I quickly filled my water and slowly staggered my way up the hill toward Hidden Lake. The miles were starting to wear on me and it was warm enough to slow my pace. I cruised back down to Hidden Lake, forded the outlet stream, and began the off-trail adventure of connecting Hidden Lake and Comeau Pass. The initial section around the lake is on a lovely use trail, then from the peninsula in the middle of the lake I struck up the hill on a diagonal traverse around Bearhat Mt. Start by going up a small talus field, then onto upward trending grassy benches to around 7000ft, which pops you out in the basin SE of Bearhat Mountain. For more specifics on the traverse, see this link. The climb up and over the saddle to Floral Park was steep energy sucking grass on the ascent and rubbly gravel and scree on the descent, yuck.

Hidden Lake, the far ridge drops into Floral Park, the peak in the far far distance is the Sperry Glacier.

Looking down into Floral Park with the Sperry Glacier in the background, let the fun begin.

Soon I found myself in Floral Park skirting the flower lined shores of Mary Baker Lake (36mi, 10:00) and traversing the steep grass upwards into the Sperry Glacier basin. As I crested the moraine into Sperry basin a mine field of snow, glacial lakes and rock ribs introduced itself to me. I took a high line, picking my way over rocky ridges, hopping glacial melt streams, traversing around turquoise blue lakes and kicking steps up the occasional snow field, finally reaching the ‘red wall of doom’, a nice moderate slab of reddish rock on the far South side of Sperry basin that climbed up to Comeau Pass. I kicked the final snowy steps up to Comeau Pass (39.5mi, 11:45) and was greeted by a pair of goats and the steep valley dropping down Sprague Creek.

Crossing Floral Park, hang a left and up into Sperry Basin.

Almost out of Sperry Basin, just gotta climb the red slab to the right.

In my tired delirium I thought the uphill was over for the day until a quick glance at the map showed two 1000ft climbs over Lincoln Peak then Gunsight Pass…argh. So I hammered down to the Sperry Chalet, past Akaiyan Falls to the junction with the Gunsight trail….12.5miles to go!!! Son of a, not what I was expecting. Again, slightly demoralized I took a moment to readjusted my head space and hammer through the first climb to Lincoln Peak, jogged my way around the beautiful Lake Ellen Wilson and up into the thunderstorm brewing on Gunsight Pass (46.5mi, 13:50). I topped out on the final final climb of the day to what I thought was distant thunder, only to see that a dark mass of heavy rain and electrical activity was dropping into the valley right in front of me, well shit. I started running, then realized the trail wasn’t descending! I traverse a high line for about a half a mile as the rain began to fall and lightning lit up the far side of the valley. At last the trail began to descend, and I pushed downward, thankfully while the thunderstorm tracked down valley at a faster rate than I. Finally I arrived at Gunsight Lake, just a little damp, but no worse for the wear (49mi, 14:20). The final 6miles seemed to drag on forever, as the trail rolled up and down through dense underbrush. As the evening light faded away, I startled a large animal (not sure what) that went crashing off through the brush. I spent the final 45min of the day talking to myself, narrating my every action, in order to comfort myself into thinking I wouldn’t get eaten by a grizzly. At last I climbed the last few feet back to the Going-to-the-Sun road sat down on the rock behind my car and breathed a sigh of relief.

Running my way around Lake Ellen Wilson toward Gunsight Pass.

Cresting Gunsight Pass right into a storm really gets the adrenaline flowing.

I had finished the Grand Glacier Loop in 15:50, after 55miles and 13400ft of vertical gain. It had been far from easy, but I felt immensely satisfied that I’d not been eaten by a grizzly and had seen/experienced/run through some of the most beautiful terrain our country has to offer. As I changed clothes and packed my stuff into the car, a light rain began to fall. During the drive back to my friend’s place over Logan Pass the light rain turned into a downpour and lightning flashed all around, I’d dodged a bullet for sure. For those interested in taking a crack at this massive loop, I’d say make sure you’re truly fit with lots of backcountry experience. It’s got diverse landscapes like the Zion Traverse, waterfalls second only to Yosemite, the sense of smallness offered up by the Grand Canyon R2R2R, but with a tough off-trail section thrown in for good measure. If you don’t feel up for the whole shebang in one go, not to fear, the park offers free shuttles that help you break it into three more manageable pieces; Jackson Overlook to Swiftcurrent (13mi), Swiftcurrent to Logan Pass (17mi), and Logan Pass to Jackson Overlook (25mi). Each segment offers up a beautiful view into what makes Glacier National Park so special, though obviously there is infinitely more out there waiting to be explored. Special thanks to the NPS for maintaining such an amazing place, and keeping up the trails, most of which were in phenomenal shape, to Vfuel for powering me through such long unsupported idiotic endeavors and to the PLT for giving me a full year off 😉

Gear List

Salomon S-Lab 12, OR Helium II jacket, Patagonia Strider shorts, tech T, arm warmers, long sleeve shirt, running hat, buff, fleece gloves, sun glasses, bear spray, inhaler, 1st aid, hand warmers, 6 chlorine tablets, space blanket, trail map, SPOT locator, Fenix E11, Black Diamond Iota headlamp, 3400calories, 1.5L of water capacity (usually only carried 1/2L). Note that you may need more or less than me, but this is the list of items I’ve worked out that I need/want to sustain myself for unsupported adventures of this length.

My pack and gear carried for 16hours of unsupported runningl

Seeking Silence Amongst Giants

Having grown up in California the redwoods have always held a special place in my heart. If you’ve ever talked to me about California you’ve probably heard me profess “I miss big trees” (usually referring to the redwoods). So you can imagine my excitement when an opportunity arose to visit Redwood NP in late May 2017.

Redwood National Park was created in 1968, encompassing four smaller parks; Prairie Creek SP, Redwood SP, Del Norte SP and Jeddiah Smith SP, in order to preserve the immense redwood forests of far Northern California. There are two types of redwoods, Sequoia sepervinum (coastal) and the Sequoia gigantia (Sierra foothills, Yosemite & Sequoia NP), both only grow in a narrow band of land in California. The semp. are the tallest trees in the world (up to 380ft tall), while the gigan. are amongst the largest (up to 100ft around), both living thousands of years. Logging threatened to destroy these gentle giants, but thankfully they are now largely preserved for all to appreciate.

After a soggy night of camping in Prarie Creek SP my mom dropped me at the Dolason prarie th in a thick fog, appropriate. I cruised down, alternating between open prarie and second growth redwood forest, until I finally reached the Big Trees loop. Here, somewhere along the upper reaches of redwood creek, stands the tallest tree in the world (376ft), and it’s not alone. This was my first taste of the lush old growth redwood forest, silent, majestic and awe inspiring. Then came obstacle #1, a early season ford of redwood creek (summer time there is a bridge). When they say creek, they mean 2-3ft deep, 30ft across and moving. Thankfully it went without issue and off down stream I jogged.

The trail along redwood creek is not heavily used and a little over grown, but a mostly runnable peaceful stretch of soft dirt along the creek. After another attention grabbing ford of the creek I jogged on through the parking lot and up a few miles of the douche grade Bald Hills road to the Lady Bird Johnson grove. The descent down the Berry Glenn trail was my favorite part of the run, smooth single track through lush towering old growth redwoods in complete silence. The next section along the Davidson/Elk Prarie/cathedral trails paralleled the road connecting two sections of the park, mellow and easy, past open meadows filled with Roosevelt Elk just lounging around.
I finally reentered the old growth forest, towering trees all around, a lush mat of ferns in the under story, past Big Tree (1500 years old), looping around the Prairie Creek trail and back to the James Irvine/Miners Ridge trails. As I climbed up the James Irvine trail I quickly left the road and crowds behind, again ascending into the solitude of the redwoods. I had originally intended to finish with the James Irvine into Fern Canyon, but was informed the road access was closed (it reopened that afternoon), so instead followed the undulating Miners Ridge trail down to Gold Bluffs beach. The day ended by throwing a rock into the ocean, source to sea across Redwood National Park had been a beautifully tranquil success, meeting my mother on the beach. Since my mother discovered they’d reopened Fern Canyon that day, we took a short side trip. Wow, wow, if elves and fairies were to live somewhere, Fern Canyon is the place. The canyons 20-30ft vertical walls are covered by a smooth carpet of ferns, giving the canyon an otherworldly isolated feel.

While I’ve had the good fortune to run in some amazing places, the run across Redwood National Park is at the top off the list for peace and tranquility. For me, running duff covered single track beneath the towering redwoods surrounded by a lush carpet of ferns and greenery sets my mind at ease. Of course if 34 miles isn’t your style, the Berry Glenn, James Irvine and Miners Ridge trails make for fantastic short runs, and the hike into Fern Canyon is worth the detour. For those who have never experienced a redwood forest, more accessible areas can be found at Muir Woods, Redwood regional park and Humboldt Redwood SP (includes an amazing 25mi road ride/drive). These towering giants have been around longer than any of us, and hopefully will outlive all of us as well. A visit to the redwoods always provides me with a little perspective. Thanks to vfuel for fueling my ongoing stupidity and my mom for sharing in the adventure and shuttling me around so I could run this point to point route.

The Desert Bites Back; Guadalupe Mountains Ultras

The neat thing about my National Park Ultramarathon project is it’s taking me to places that I normally wouldn’t think about visiting. Example, the Guadalupe Mountains of Southern New Mexico/Northwestern Texas. The Guadalupes aren’t your typical towering mountain range with distinct peaks rising above the surroundings; rather they consist of an uplifted inland reef (Capitan Reef) with deep canyons carving down through the ancient sea floor. The area is split into two parks, one being the Guadalupe Mountains National Park (in Texas) the other, and better known, being Carlsbad Caverns National Park. Over 200 million years ago the area that makes up these two parks was a vast inland sea. Then the inlet to this sea (the current mountain range) was cutoff and the sea slowly dried up, in the process covering the area in layer upon layer of mineral deposits. The continued uplift exposed these mineral and fossil layers in what is now the Capitan Reef of Guadalupe Mountains National Park, and the power of slowly percolating water carved out vast caverns underground creating the massive labyrinth that is Carlsbad Caverns.

Sunrise on Guadalupe Peak from the Tejas Trail.

Sunrise on Guadalupe Peak from the Tejas Trail.

Descending the Bush Mt trail toward Dog Canyon. Not much of a trail.

Descending the Bush Mt trail toward Dog Canyon. Not much of a trail.

I first set my sights on a 37mile lollipop in Guadalupe Mountains National Park (5/8). One of the local rangers told me “the magnificence of the Chihuahuan desert lies in its subtlties”, and I couldn’t agree more. As I climbed up the Tejas Trail from the Pine Springs trailhead the sun slowly began to illuminate the surrounding walls and the birds began to awake to greet the day. I ascended 2500ft of switchbacks out of the low arid desert and into the high altitude juniper and pine forest (<8000ft). The trail slowly disintegrated from a wide horse trail into an overgrown sparsely used foot path (Bush Trail) as I crested Bush Mountain (the high point of the day 8631ft, mm6.2, 1:45). The trail undulated along the high ridge through the pine and oak forest, before descending steeply down through an old burn zone to the meadows surrounding the old ranch settlement of Cox Tanks. Blooming cacti and an assortment of wildflowers dotted the desert terrain as I cruised down to the Dog Canyon TH, my only water resupply for the day (mm16, 3:50). The TH was completely empty except one couple and their RV. I doused myself at the water spigot, refilled all my water bottles (2.5L) and jogged back up the Tejas Trail toward Lost Peak.

Dog Canyon TH, refreshed and ready to roll another 21miles.

Dog Canyon TH, refreshed and ready to roll another 21miles.

Wildflowers blooming in an old burn zone along the Tejas Trail.

Wildflowers blooming in an old burn zone along the Tejas Trail.

As I jogged up the canyon the midday sun had begun to bake the open grasslands. I ran into a couple of volunteers who were in the process of clearing the trail, cutting back brush and moving rocks. They mentioned I’d run into more overgrown trail about 1.5miles ahead, as the park didn’t have the resources to clear everything just yet, an unfortunate, but all too common issue within the National Park system due to budget cuts. As I neared Lost Peak the trail became a little rougher, but was far better than the Bush Mountain trail I’d run in the morning. From the summit of Lost Peak (4:50) I had a nice view of the surrounding landscape, an endlessly undulating high plateau strewn with pines, junipers, oak trees and cacti. I cruised along the high ridge dotted with Indian Paintbrush and blooming prickly pear cacti until the junction with the Blue Ridge Trail (mm21.8, 5:20) where the trail descended deep into the pine forests. I hadn’t seen anyone else since the Dog Canyon TH, and was enjoying the trail solitude as I turned up onto the Juniper trail and steeply climbed my way up to the old water tanks at the top of Bear Canyon.

Indian Paintbrush blooming in the desert.

Indian Paintbrush blooming in the desert.

Looking down Bear Canyon at the valley over 2000ft below.

Looking down Bear Canyon at the valley over 2000ft below.

Summit of Guadalupe Peak, high point of Texas.

Summit of Guadalupe Peak, high point of Texas.

El Capitan of the Guadalupes from above.

El Capitan of the Guadalupes from above.

The view abruptly opened, and I was staring down on the Frijole trail 2000ft below. The descent was rocky, but runnable the whole way, and the temperature quickly climbed from the comfortable 60s into the low 80s. I reached my car in the Pine Springs parking lot a bit cooked (mm29, 7:20), but after a quick refill I felt like I was ready to tackle the 3000ft climb up to Guadalupe Peak (the Texas high-point). The trail climbed steeply at first then mellowed a bit more as it traversed into the trees. The heat and sun were definitely getting to me, and I had to take several breaks to cool off in the little bits of shade I could find. The final push from the saddle to the summit seemed to drag on forever, but I finally stumbled my way up to the summit pinnacle and plopped down for a breather (mm33mi, 9:20). Views were expansive, the vast Chihuahuan desert to the South and East, the rolling ridgelines of the Guadalupes to the North and the vertical cliffs of El Capitan (Texas, not CA) directly below. The jog down was a bit painful as I was pretty dehydrated and cooked from the day, but I finally reached the trailhead and sprawled out on the ground, 37mi and 10h and 25min after starting.

Descending into Slaughter Cave on a Ranger guided tour.

Descending into Slaughter Cave on a Ranger guided tour.

Formations in Slaughter Cave.

Formations in Slaughter Cave.

Day two (5/9) in the Guadalupes found me descending deep into Slaughter Cave in Carlsbad Cavern National Park. This 4h, $15 Ranger Guided tour of the cave was a fantastic way to learn about the history, geology and to see some of the phenomenal formations up close. Day three (5/10) I got a little more than I bargained for, my supposed 25-ish mile run of the Yucca trail-Guadalupe Ridge trail-Slaughter Canyon trail reminded me how cruel the desert can be. All are listed as ‘unmaintained trails’ but I figured how bad could they be? As I climbed up Yucca canyon the trail was well established, the ocotillo and cacti were blooming and the temperature was pleasant. But as I crested the high plateau the trail disappeared into the desert scrub, a nasty mixture of yucca, sotol, cats claw, cacti and agave, as I was relegated to navigating cairn to cairn….when I could. After thrashing my way across the high plateau I finally reached what I thought was the junction with the Guadalupe Ridge trail, wrong (mm11, 3:15). After a 1mi detour I reversed course and found the correct road, and was able to jog my way across the Guadalupe Ridge, only to miss two more unmarked turns on my way to the Putnam Cabin (mm15, closer to mm18.5 that day, 4:55). Then it was back to thrashing my way across the ridgeline until I reached a few old trail signs at the junction with the Slaughter Canyon trail, a trail which did not exist outside of a few rock cairns (mm19, mm23 that day, 5:50). I again thrashed my way down the ridge into Slaughter Canyon, legs ripped up from the sotol and cats claw, a few holes in my foot from agave spines that had pierced my shoes. By the time I reached the canyon bottom I no longer cared about dodging the skin ripping plants, and just barreled on through them, finally reaching the trailhead 7h and 17min after starting, and the ‘marathon-ish’ route turned out to be closer to 28.6miles of brutal bushwacking. My legs told the tale as small streams of blood dripped from scratches on my knees and thighs.

Sunrise on the Yucca Canyon trail.

Sunrise on the Yucca Canyon trail.

Follow the cairns, because that's all you got.

Follow the cairns, because that’s all you got.

Useless signs at the Slaughter Canyon turn.

Useless signs at the Slaughter Canyon turn.

Descending back into Slaughter Canyon.

Descending back into Slaughter Canyon.

The ravages of yucca and cats claw, bloody legs.

The ravages of yucca and cats claw, bloody legs.

No time to waste though, as I hopped in my car and booked it over to the Carlsbad Cavern main entrance for a self guided walking tour down into the heart of the main cave system. As I descended into the darkness, the air cooled, light faded away and all the noises of the outside world were cut off. The main cave is lit by artificial lights so no headlamps are needed, but one is nice if one would like to inspect some formations in more detail. As the paved walking path entered “The Big Room” the cave opened into a massive cavern, the size of 14 football fields. Thousands of soda straws and stalactites hung from the ceilings, calcite domes up to 30ft tall rose from the floor and crystal clear pools of water flowed deep into the depths of the earth. The standard walking tour of the cave is around 2.5miles from the surface, but there are several other Ranger Guided options to explore deeper into the cave. Wandering this underground labyrinth is truly mind boggling, especially when you consider that miles of cave passages and even new cave systems are being discovered all the time (like Lechuguilla in 1986). If you visit Carlsbad I highly recommend you take a Ranger Guided tour (minimal charge) and if you visit in the summer time stay around to watch the bats fly out of the cave (up to ½ million).

Entering the main Carlsbad Cavern.

Entering the main Carlsbad Cavern.

The Big Room at Carlsbad Caverns, the size of 14 football fields.

The Big Room at Carlsbad Caverns, the size of 14 football fields.

Soda Straws and other formations in Carlsbad.

Soda Straws and other formations in Carlsbad.

While the Guadalupe Mountains may not wow you from the outset, hang around a little bit and delve into the subtleties of this seemingly arid desert that is full of life. You’ll see mule deer darting through the scrub, lizards bask in the sun and even a rattlesnake or two letting you know how pissed off he/she is (from a distance of course). Prickly pear cacti blooming in brilliant yellow, the spiny ocotillo and their vibrant red tips and dozens of small wildflowers (including paintbrush) hiding amongst the yucca and scrub. If you stop and look a little closer you’ll be amazed what you find both above ground and below. And while the trail systems of the area won’t rival those of Yosemite, Glacier NP or North Cascades, the solitude you’ll find in the desert will provide you a much different experience than the overcrowded trails elsewhere. My only suggestion, wear full leg coverings and be smarter than I. Special thanks to Vfuel for powering me through crazy adventures like these and to the National Park Service for protecting these amazing lands for all to explore.

Walking by moonlight at White Sands National Monument.

Walking by moonlight at White Sands National Monument.

Trans-Bryce Canyon Ultrarun

Sunrise over the San Rafaell Swell in Utah.

Sunrise over the San Rafaell Swell in Utah.

Spring time in the Utah desert is a beautiful thing. Cool nights, warm days, lots of sunshine and tons of adventure to be had in the maze of canyons, gorges and rock formations. So of course when several friends invited me on a little road trip, I jumped at the chance. After a brief stop in Moab to play, we were off to Bryce Canyon. The goal was to traverse the park from Rainbow Point to Fairyland Point in one day, approximately 32 miles of trail. Eight years ago several friends and I had tried to complete this route, but had to bail to search for a lost companion (don’t worry, we found her), so a little redemption was in order.

Dropping from Rainbow Point into the canyon, a little lingering snow at 9100ft.

Dropping from Rainbow Point into the canyon, a little lingering snow at 9100ft.

Running the Under the Rim trail, mostly smooth and runnable for 21miles.

Running the Under the Rim trail, mostly smooth and runnable for 21miles.

As we drove out to Rainbow Point we were a little surprised at the amount of snow that lingered on the high plateau (we were at 9100ft). So after a last minute gear change (grabbed microspikes) Ben and I were jogging down the Under the Rim trail into Bryce Canyon. The snow was soft on top, though several feet deep, so we used our microspikes for the first mile. Soon the snow had dissipated to just a few patches and we were jogging through the forest far below the rim. The trail was pleasant as we crossed several seasonal melt streams and cruised to our first waypoint at Iron Springs (4.3mi, 0:50). The water at Iron Springs can be treated in a pinch, but isn’t recommended. As we slowly traversed our way north we entered the old burn zone just past Agua Canyon, a strange skeleton forest of charred trunks (from 2009). The trail continued to climb in and out of the side canyons that flowed from the Bryce Rim, past peculiar rock formations, along Swamp creek (strong water flow at the top, disappeared down low, 10.9mi, 2:15), and finally to the head waters of  Sheep creek. The sun continued to beat down on us, though the temperature remained cool at the relatively high elevation (7000ft). Finally we crossed over the steady flow of Sheep Creek coming out of Yellow Springs (17.5mi, 4:10, half way), and sat down to treat some water and reward ourselves with some chocolate. Sheep Creek is the last reliable water source in the canyon, so we took our time hydrating.

Running through the 2009 burn zone near Agua Canyon.

Running through the 2009 burn zone near Agua Canyon.

Yogging up the final climb to Bryce Point, hey look, Hoodoos.

Yogging up the final climb to Bryce Point, hey look, Hoodoos.

After a short jog through some open terrain we began the long slow climb to Bryce Point, our first time returning to the Rim since we started. We settled into a nice mixture of power hiking and yogging, with the occasional break to snap a photo as we passed the Hat Shop and our first up close view of the Hoodoos. We soon found ourselves back on the plateau near Bryce Point (22mi, 5:40) but quickly descended into the heart of the Hoodoos. We took the western arm of the Peak-a-boo Loop right through the middle of the Hoodoos, past the Wall of Windows, the Cathedral and countless other unnamed formations dodging throngs of tourist the whole way (first time we’d had this issue). When we reached the junction with the Navajo Loop we cut North onto the hiking trail to the Queen’s Garden. By this point we were both starting to hurt, me on the ups, Ben on the descents, so the trudge up to Sunrise Point seemed to drag on and on. We finally topped back out on the rim and jogged across the parking lot to my car for a quick food and water resupply before the final push to the end, Fairyland Point (26.5mi, 7:00). There is also water in the General store bathrooms and at the campground, so a vehicle here isn’t necessary.

Our first view of Hoodoo heaven between Bryce Point and Sunrise Point.

Our first view of Hoodoo heaven between Bryce Point and Sunrise Point.

Feeling small yet? Ben running in front of the Wall of Windows.

Feeling small yet? Ben running in front of the Wall of Windows.

Queens Garden trail sights, I would imagine this is what Mars feels like.

Queens Garden trail sights, I would imagine this is what Mars feels like.

We jogged out from the trailhead one last time, following signs into Fairyland Basin, new territory for me. I enjoyed the smooth descent into the canyon, Ben’s knees less so, but it was very refreshing not to have to fight our way past oblivious hikers every minute. Fairyland lived up to its name, an expansive basin filled with multi-colored rock formation, towering Hoodoos, natural bridges and solitude (well, more than the previous 4miles). We slowly made our way across the basin, snapping photos and trying to enjoy the scenery, though both of us were a bit beat up. The last short climb to Fairyland Point loomed ahead, before we knew it several wooden fences appeared and we found ourselves at the trailhead, high fives all around (8:40). Amanda greeted us with water and snacks and the most important thing, a car, meaning no more hiking/running!

Cruising the singletrack in Fairyland Basin, smooth and fun, but so tired.

Cruising the singletrack in Fairyland Basin, smooth and fun, but so tired.

Cruising through Fairyland, all by our lonesomes.

Cruising through Fairyland, all by our lonesomes.

The Trans Bryce run came out around 32miles and 6000ft of vert in a pedestrian 8:40, unfortunately my phone died part way so I don’t have a complete GPS track for the run. The route is completely runnable, with the Under the Rim Trail being a pleasant forested jog with very few people, the Peak-a-boo and Queens Garden trails having some spectacular scenery but lots of crowds, and Fairyland being a peaceful playground of Hoodoos and beautiful rock formations (with very little crowds). This route definitely encompassed what makes Bryce Canyon NP so special, and served up a little bit of variety along the way. For those looking for a shorter route, the Bryce Point to Fairyland Point run/hike lets one see the best of the park in about 10miles (with car shuttle). The Trans-Bryce Canyon Ultrarun was my 7th National Park Ultra, and as with the previous six, it definitely offered up some unique scenery and experiences. Next up Guadalupe Mountains NP and Carlsbad Caverns (won’t be all running) next week! Thanks to Vfuel for keeping me energized on all these adventures, my good friend Ben for always being ready for some Type II fun, Amanda for running the car shuttle and the National Park Service for keeping these wonderful natural playgrounds accessible in the face of lots of adversity.

Trans Bryce Canyon map.

Trans Bryce Canyon map.

I’ll leave you with a few photos from some other fun in the desert. Buckskin Gulch and Paria Canyon (look it up!), Zerbra slot and Tunnel slot, Sulphur Creek Canyon Capitol Reef, Ding/Dang slots with Kaytlyn and Ely.

The dark narrows of Buckskin Gulch. Just think about how those logs got there...

The dark narrows of Buckskin Gulch. Just think about how those logs got there…

Zebra slot with its narrow striped walls.

Zebra slot with its narrow striped walls.

Sulphur Creek, Capitol Reef NP. Scouting another NP route.

Sulphur Creek, Capitol Reef NP. Scouting another NP route.

Playing around in Dang Canyon in the San Rafaell Swell with Kaytlyn and Ely.

Playing around in Dang Canyon in the San Rafaell Swell with Kaytlyn and Ely.

End of a Journey, but the Adventure Continues

Thorang La Pass, new elevation high point for me along the Annapurna Circuit.

Thorang La Pass, new elevation high point for me along the Annapurna Circuit.

I’ve now been back in the United States for two weeks since my six month world travels ended and no surprise, things have been busy. Catching up with friends and family, cleaning house, doing ‘adult’ things (stupid taxes and bills), playing with the kitty and generally adventuring whenever I can, it’s a rough life. People keep asking if it is hard to ‘reintegrate’ into the US and if I miss living on the road, and the answer is easily, no. It’s good to be home, now that doesn’t mean that my adventuring is done by a long shot, just changing pace. The #Funployment will continue through the summer, with lots of road trips and a few flights in the works, but keeping Boulder as a home base for all the fun. A few of the potential trips are a visit to the Guadalupe Mountains, canyoneering in the Utah desert, maybe a few weeks in Belize (anyone?), some exploration and maybe a volcano or two in the PNW and some big plans in Glacier National Park. <- So if you want in on the fun, ping me and let’s plan something epic!

Ambling through the dark narrows of Buckskin Gulch. Adventure is not too far from home. April 2017.

Ambling through the dark narrows of Buckskin Gulch. Adventure is not too far from home. April 2017.

Kaytlyn and Ely running into Ding Canyon. The Utah desert holds so many wonderful treasures. April 2017.

Kaytlyn and Ely running into Ding Canyon. The Utah desert holds so many wonderful treasures. April 2017.

But back to this whole traveling out of a backpack for six months deal. The first few days back at home were a bit odd, not waking up in a new location every few days, speaking English all the time, the familiarity of home and the city around. Part of me will definitely miss waking up each day to a new adventure, but part of me is excited to be home as well. I’ve learned a lot in the past six months, but I don’t feel like I’m a different person, just an evolving one. Normally I’d pull on thoughts from my journals for all this rambling, but being that I’ve had 90% of my journal writing stolen, I’m only left with my memories, which I guess is the more important thing. I started this journey with no idea where I was heading or why, only that I had a plane ticket to Thailand and eventually I wanted to make it to Nepal and Patagonia, filling in the gaps along the way. It’s such a different feeling living the adventure day to day and just seeing where life takes you, and it’s made me realize that while planning is a great way to maximize what you see in a location, are you really seeing what matters most? Anyone can hop on a tour and take the postcard shot or follow the guidebook directions, but what really makes a trip special are those unexpected moments where you get to experience the real culture, not the tourism, where you get to meet the real people, not the facade put on for foreigners. I think anyone who travels is guilty of rushing to the iconic site or the stereotypical experience that we’re told we’re supposed to have, but we need to remember that the journey of getting anywhere is a big part of traveling.

Temples of Ankor in Cambodia.

Temples of Ankor in Cambodia.

img_20161120_202443-723x524.jpg

Steve watching sunrise on Annapurna from South Basecamp.

Now to say my travels went smoothly would be a lie. There were numerous transportation mishaps, a few mis-schedules, I was robbed twice (losing ALL my ID, credit cards, cell phone and SD card once), got sick a few times and did numerous stupid things along the way. So is life, make mistakes and learn from them (hopefully). But of course the negative happenings and mishaps were a minor part of what was a fantastic journey. I met so many wonderful people from all over the world (made some new friends), saw countless amazing sights, had innumerable new experiences and had my eyes opened a few times to new ways of thinking. I’ve definitely been bitten by the travel bug, but I don’t really have the desire to sell off all my worldly belongs and hit the road permanently for years to come.

Chatting with some of my students in Shishaghat, Nepal.

Chatting with some of my students in Shishaghat, Nepal. Photo by Zahariz.

Enjoying sunrise over Bagan with new friends.

Enjoying sunrise over Bagan with new friends.

While I love the unknown that comes with traveling new places, visiting new cultures and meeting new people, I’m also a little bit of a creature of habit. I like my group runs with friends, Mondays at Southern Sun, playing with my kitty, climbing Colorado’s 14ers, and having more than 3 changes of clothes to wear on a weekly basis. But mostly, I just love where I live. I love Boulder (for its good and bad), I love the Rocky Mountains, I love my friends and I love the lifestyle my home affords me, so being home is a pretty darn good thing. Though it doesn’t hurt that Colorado is a great launching off point for all kinds of far flung adventures; I can drive to Moab in 6h, the Tetons in 8h, fly to the West coast in 2.5h, Mexico in 4.5h, Colombia in 10h, meaning that adventure is never more than a day away. Even after traveling my list of places to go and things to see is pretty large. As anyone who has traveled will tell you, each time you travel and check off a bucket list item, you add another half-dozen (or more) to the list, its one of those good problems to have. So I look forward to continuing to check off bucket list items and adding many more. For now I’ll enjoy running, climbing and skiing at home in Colorado for a little bit, but just until that next adventure presents itself and the wanderlust grows so great that it needs to be heeded. Thanks to all who shared travels and experiences with me and to the Pro-Leisure Tour for making this all possible.

Sometimes when you don't share a language, it doesn't matter. Making friends in Inle Lake, Myanmar.

Sometimes when you don’t share a language, it doesn’t matter. Making friends in Inle Lake, Myanmar.

Marveling at the Torres, in Torres del Paine Parque Nacional.

Marveling at the Torres, in Torres del Paine Parque Nacional.

Sunrise over Paine Grande town, pinch me, because this can't be real....

Sunrise over Paine Grande town, pinch me, because this can’t be real….

Lastly just a few take homes from things I’ve learned along the way.

The most important thing I learned was there is never a ‘perfect’ time for anything, and if an opportunity presents itself sometimes you just need to leap full in and figure the rest out later.

When I first left I didn’t think I could actually live out of an 11-12kg backpack for six months, but turns out you really don’t need a whole lot for life on the road, and I could have gotten by with less (ping me if you want specifics).

Having never traveled Asia the language barriers made me nervous, but in the end many people spoke English and even those that didn’t were eager to help out. Hand gestures are surprisingly useful, and I learned a lot of Spanish along the way.

Sometimes you just need to trust that things will work out. Countless times I was on a bus or in a taxi going somewhere, never knowing exactly what was going on, or where we were, but it always worked out in the end.

Learning the local language (even a few phrases) can go a long way.

Say Yes to new experiences, new foods and new ideas.

Not every location is right for every person. The big city party scenes of SE Asia weren’t my thing, but the small towns offered so many wonderful experiences that were more my style. It’s ok if you don’t want to booze it up every night with the 20-somethings, be you.

Most people are wonderful (locals and travelers); friendly, kind, helpful and mean you no harm, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be aware of your situation as there are a few rotten eggs out there.

When something bad happens it’s no use crying over spilled milk, clean it up and get on living and enjoying the present and future. Losing my SD card sucked, but once it was gone there was nothing I could do but go make new memories.

Lastly, it’s ok if you don’t have a definitive plan for your life. Life is too short to be locked into one single mindset/path, be open to evolution and change.

Embracing the Unexpected

First views of the mountains reflecting in Lago Pehoè.

In my first blog after I quit my job I wrote about how I wasn’t sure what I expected out of my long term travels. Maybe some adventure, cultural enlightenment, new friends, but more that I’d just take the journey in stride, one day at a time. In my previous life as a working stiff, travels had always been very well planned out, because you don’t want to waste a day when you only have a few weeks. This is what really separates long term travel from it’s shorter counterparts (for me), the freedom and flexibility one has to take advantage of unexpected opportunities. In a 2-3 week trip one can visit all the beautiful places I’ve seen (obviously not in one trip), and meet lots of amazing locals and travelers, but what if an opportunity arose mid-travel? You probably couldn’t/wouldn’t change your entire trip to do something completely unplanned.

Don’t feel bad I didn’t get to backpack the loop, I got in two pretty nice long runs.

The volunteer crew at Erratic Rock before heading out. Photo courtesy of the @TDPLegacyFund

After being shut out of the multi-day trekking options in Torres del Paine, I did some long day runs (see earlier blog), returning to Puerto Natales each night to relax at Erratic Rock. One night while sitting and having a glass of wine I overheard the hostel staff Bill and Jess talking about a volunteer trail building opportunity that they were helping to organize in Torres del Paine the first week of March. For those of you who know me well, you know I have a passion for giving back to the parks and trail systems that so many of us heavily use, and sometimes neglect and abuse. I’ve even taken several courses on trail design, maintenance and construction, along with how to lead volunteer groups in such settings (Thanks Boulder Country Parks & Open space!). So with all that in mind I couldn’t pass up the possibility of joining the group and proceeded to beg my way into the team. Thanks to the folks at the Torres del Paine Legacy Fund I was now part of the team of volunteers, and I’d be back in Puerto Natales the first week of March to head into the park for a full week of camping and trail building.

The team enjoys the catamaran ride across the lake.

The sea of tents at Paine Grande town.

After a five day stint in Ushuaia and a little over a week playing around on the trails of El Chalten and El Calafate I caught a bus back to Puerto Natales for a few nights at Erratic Rock before heading into the park to work. It was kind of like hanging out with the family, and I even got put to work by Bill a little bit, always happy to help out. Friday March 3rd much of the crew met up and made some last minute arrangements before heading out. The group was comprised of several of us gringos from the States, a couple Chileans from up north, a few local guides, a traveler from France and a whole bunch of the local Guarda Parques (park service). On Saturday afternoon we loaded into several vehicles and drove the back road into Torres del Paine. Those of us non-locals marveled at the views of the mountains reflecting off a dead calm Lago Pehoè, how did we get so lucky? We then transferred all our gear from the vehicles onto the catamaran at Pudeto and set off on the 30min journey across the lago to Rifugio Paine Grande, our home for the next week. We were treated to beautiful views as we slowly motored across the Lago. Saturday was spent setting up camp and getting to know our colleagues as we dined in the rifugio, fancy living.

Day one of trail work, the team getting acclimated.

Relaxing back in camp after a successful day.

Work began on Sunday with John (ex-US forest service ranger) from Oregon heading up the trail design and organizing the team. I’d take a secondary role alongside Legacy Fund leader Emily helping organize the teams of workers and answering questions about trail design and trying to translate to the Spanish speakers when possible (my Spanish is still pretty rough, but getting better). We built waterbars, cut bushes, cleared calafate (damn thorny bastards) and dug new trail thread from 9-5 each day. For those of you who haven’t done this it’s a heck of a cross training workout. We then spent our afternoons unwinding in Paine Grande town, multi lingual chatting, playing games and drinking beer/wine. It was such a wonderful mix of personalities and people from all backgrounds, and while we slaved away all day, we had plenty of fun in the process.

The Milky Way stretching over Lago Pehoe. Not sure why it won’t rotate.

Sunrise on Paine Grande town from the catamaran dock.

Digging new trail, with some nice views.

We had to trim a shit ton of brush and stubborn calafate.

Torres del Paine (and Patagonia ) is known for unstable weather, and after three days of hard work in misty conditions Wednesday looked terrible (3-4cm of rain). We decided a day of rest would do us all good, so we kicked back, wrote in journals, played games and just enjoyed each other’s company, because boy did it rain, just nice and steady all day. When I awoke Thursday morning the rain was tapering off, but I found a lake around my tent, and that several of my neighbors were less fortunate and their tents were IN the lake. We made a mild effort to dry some things out, and moved tents out of the lagoon before heading out to inspect how our handy work on the trails had held up to the rain.

Working away on both sides of the outlet of Lago Skottsburg.eventually there will be a bridge here.

Afternoon break to enjoy the views.

Relaxing in the dining hall as the rain fell.

Lago Rifugio, my tent sat front and center on the hill, while four others sat in the puddle to the right.

Obstacle #1 was crossing the shin deep river that had appeared between us and the guard shack. Thursday we split into two groups, one building boardwalk over a marshy section, while Emily and I took team #2 back to keep cutting new trail. Obstacle #2 came in the form of our usual river crossing, formerly on stones, but now fully submerged. Many of us resorted to damp feet, then it was back to cutting, weeding and digging. Though our group was slowly dwindling, those that were left made for a fun crew, as we got to know each other even better. Friday dawned our last day of digging in the dirt, after bidding John (our fearless leader) farewell, we finished up some last sections and called it a successful week. We’d dug more than 1km of hard fought new trail and built 37 waterbars.

Crossing the river at peak flow .

How pretty is this newly cut trail? Our final segment of the week.

Before and after construction #1.

Before and after shot of some new trail #2.

The last thing in the agenda was a night of celebration with all our new friends as a full moon rose into clear skies illuminating the mountains, lakes and fields. It was fitting that our final morning dawned clear, as the sun’s rays slowly melted their way down Paine Grande and into camp. Sadly this is where we had to bid many of the Guarda Parques farewell, while the rest of us headed back to Puerto Natales before eventually going our respective ways. Simply getting to work in the park for the week was an absolute treat in its own right, but getting to meet and share the experience with such a wonderfully diverse group of people made it just magical. Our Spanglish games in Paine Grande town, dance parties on the trail, plenty of poor translations (many by me), realizing you pitched your tent in a stream bed and quiet mornings with friends watching the sun rise over the the magical land of Torres del Paine. I couldn’t have asked for anything more from the week, and am so glad I decided to say “screw the plan, I’m doing this”, when the opportunity arose. While most people won’t have this flexibility while traveling I’d implore you not to be afraid to say yes to the unexpected, and let life be fluid, because who knows what opportunity might come your way, and when it might happen. A life of experiences and memories is much better than one filled with “What IFs”.

Enjoying some vino and pisco by moonlight.

Taking in one last sunrise.

One last boat ride out of the park with some new friends.

Goodbye for now, but not forever.