Quandary/La Plata Hawks

Part I, Quandary Peak  (8/11/20)

Gary, Todd, and I got an early start, as you're supposed to do when climbing a mountain. The idea of course is to get to the summit and then back down a ways before the usual early afternoon thunderstorms hit. Gary is getting a bit worried that in his last three summits, there hasn't been an afternoon thunderstorm. All I know is that it was great weather, maybe a bit hot at times, but very dusty. 

We got to the Quandary Peak Trailhead at 5:30 AM after rising early in Frisco, Colorado and driving the 30 miles in. Todd asked Siri to play Five O'clock Somewhere (possibly to get me to stop singing it) and Rocky Mountain High during the drive, so we were primed and ready for some adventure.

Early Morning Sky at Quandary Trailhead

This would be Todd's and my second ascent of a 14'er (a mountain of at least 14,000 feet but less than 15,000 feet, which is as tall as they get in the lower 48 states) and Gary's fourteenth. You can guess who we relied on to answer our 14,000 questions about mountains (although I did rely on my lifeskills to explain to Gary the importance of always using a coozie, even at 14,000 feet). Todd led the way, and it wasn't long before I was huffing and puffing in the thin mountain air trying to keep up. Because of an injury, Todd hasn't been able to run a step in over a month, I don't know what, if anything he's been doing to maintain his fitness, but he didn't seem to notice the altitude at all that I could tell. He was cruising.

Quandary is known as a relatively "easy" 14'er because it isn't technical at all. You don't need ropes, you don't need to use your hands (although we did use walking poles), and you're rarely near a steep dropoff. Still, just as they say that there are no "easy" 100 mile races (regardless of terrain), to me, this was no easy climb. You have a clear view of the summit for a good portion of the climb, so you just have to keep your eyes on the prize, and keep pushing (and pushing, and pushing). We stopped to rest a few times, but the path is clear, and since it's an accessible and non-technical climb, there are lots of other folks on the route. In short, not even I could get off trail.

Midway Snack Break

Another 50 Yards or So to Go, I'd Guess. :-)

Reppin' the Trail Hawks at the Peak Surveyed Marker

Summit View

We got to the summit in around 3 and a half hours. The views were stunning. We celebrated with a 16 oz can of beer each, ate a few snacks, snapped a few million pics and headed back down.

It's Also a Long Way Down (you can see the line of climbers coming up, right side)

Taking a Little Break on the Way Down (photobombed by Quandary Peak)

The Garmin Stats for the Ascent

After getting back down to the trailhead, we hung out for a bit, then started driving towards the Twin Peaks campsite (which I hoped had nothing to do with the early 90's David Lynch TV Show of the same name). Gary had us take the "scenic" route via Weston Pass. It was a beautiful rugged drive that gave us and the vehicles quite a workout as we bounced along in 1st gear over the unmaintained road.

The Only Pic from the Weston Pass Road that I Managed to Take

Part II, Twin Peaks Campground (8/11/20, 8/12/20)

The Twin Peaks Campground is located on Highway 82, about halfway between Twin Lakes (of the Leadville 100 Trail Race fame) and the La Plata Peak Trailhead. It was another win. Gary was the mastermind/planner of this adventure and it was apparent that he had sweated the details and bribed the rain gods to stay away. 

A big bonus of the campsite is that Lake Creek is only a few hundred yards away. It may be called a creek, but as a native Kansan, it sure looked a lot more like a river to me. The first thing that I did was to take off my boots and socks and wash away the dust/dirt from the morning's climb. The cold water felt amazing and it felt even better to put on my sandals and let my toes roam free.

Cairns in the Creek

Lake Creek, CO

Gary and Todd Digging the Sights and Sounds

It was a fun afternoon/evening as we setup camp, ate dinner, had a few beers around the fire, and gabbed the night away. When it got dark, the night sky was the brightest that I had ever seen, I've never seen that many stars before. The Perseid Meteor Showers were going on and we each saw at least one meteor streaking across the sky, but the peak of the shower happened long after we were asleep.

Hero Shot of Our Trusty Steeds, Lil' Red and Todd's Subaru at Twin Peaks Campground

Part III, La Plata Trailhead To Campsite (8/12/20)

We took our time tearing down and packing away from our Twin Peaks campground. We didn't have to be out of there until noon, and we didn't want to arrive too early at La Plata Trailhead which was only 9-ish miles down the road. We assumed that the parking lot would be packed early and would clear out as the day went along. As it happened, there were a few open parking spaces when we arrived. So we loaded up our packs, took a few pics and were just about to head down the trail when we heard a west bound truck slow down and the driver yelling at us. The driver was a park ranger and she was warning us that the highway was closing down to the west of us because of a fire. We really had no further information and couldn't see any smoke or hear any emergency vehicles, so we decided to carry on. (thankfully, we heard nothing further about the fire or road closure)

Our Three Packs, Loaded and Ready to Go

Our packs were heavy as we headed up the trail. Our (Gary's) plan was to hike up until we found a nice level spot near the river (for water) to set up camp. We didn't really know how far up that would be, but it would give us a nice head-start the next morning when we headed for La Plata Peak. We would leave most of the heavy stuff (tents, food, sleeping bags, etc.) behind and just carry rain gear, water, snacks, and a few other items (beer) up to the summit.

 

The trail was nice and easy until we crossed the river, then it became much steeper. With our heavy packs on, the ascent was pretty challenging at times. Fortunately trail builders had added stairs in one section to make it safer. In several sections, we were grabbing for trees to stop us from sliding backwards, or worse, sideways down the really steep slope towards the river. Gary asked a few hikers coming down if they had seen any likely camping spots. A few folks mentioned a beautiful meadow a ways up. It's hard to judge distance when you're surrounded by trees and all you can see is a 50 foot ascent in front of you, but the comments were, "you can't miss it", and "you'll know it when you see it". That seemed promising until another hiker declared that there's "not a flat spot between here and the summit". (Note, he was wrong) After a few miles, we saw a side trail heading for the river and decided to check it out. After crossing the river and scaling the opposite bank, we were treated to one of the most memorable/beautiful sites that I've ever seen. A huge perfect open meadow adjacent to a huge flat tree-covered area with stone fire pits and logs arranged for seating. You could practically hear the Hallelujah Chorus singing, we had definitely arrived at camp.

Gary in the Meadow

Fire Pit and Seating

My Home Sweet Home

Todd's (left) and Gary's Hammocks

In the Pines, in the Pines

Gary Playing His Ukulele

Todd Tied Our Food Bags Up and Out of Bear Reach (Gary used a Bear Canister)

We set up camp, napped, ate, tended the fire and got ready for the morning's big ascent.

Part IV, La Plata Peak Summit (8/13/20)

We got an early start, but not as early as some. Around 4:45, I could hear female voices happily chatting as they were heading up the trail on the other side of the river. It was another hour at least before we started. 

                                               Early Morning View from our Campsite

The trail was awesome. Beautiful sights in every direction as we climbed steep switchback after steep switch back. We eventually broke out of the valley and began approaching the saddle/ridge that would lead us to the summit. 

                                                            Morning Sun on Rock

                                        Todd Ascending Some of the Well Defined Trail

Once we were above treeline and climbing the ridge, the trail got harder to follow. Since it's all pretty much rocks, the only way to mark the trail is a series of cairns (stacked rocks), you just climb rocks till you get to a cairn, spot the next one, and start climbing rocks again. At a time when I was leading our group, I realized that the rocks were getting sparse and they tended to start sliding downhill when I grabbed onto them (I had put away my poles through this section so that I had my hands free). After a few feet of this, Todd and I noticed a sign that said "Keep Off, Restoration Area". So much for following the cairns. Someone nearby hollered at us that the trail had switched back to our left, so we headed that way and got back on track. The cairns were helpful through this area, but they're more of a general guide than a defined route (at least that was my interpretation), so there was plenty of free-styling along this section.

Gary Approaching the Ridge

Todd Heading Back to the Rockpile After a Quick Break

At the top of the ridge, there is a false summit, followed by the actual summit just a few hundred yards further. We didn't find a surveyed marker on the summit, but a few folks had improvised their own.

DIY Summit Markers

(l-r) Photobomber Guy, Gary, Todd, Me 

(l-r) Todd (looking very ZZ Top), Gary, and me Reppin' the Trail Hawks on La Plata Peak

Descending the rocky ridge section got a little hairy. Once again, I was leading our group when it happened so there's a slight chance that had something to do with it. All was well as we were descending, the cairns were marked well, and the route seemed obvious (downward), when we pulled aside to let a faster hiker pass us. As she passed, she remarked, "don't trust me on the route, I'm not always right". What I heard was "I'm experienced, and wise from past mistakes", my instincts said "follow her", besides, we were all following the same cairns. After 30 yards or so of veering to the left, we began swinging back to the right and I noticed that the lead hiker was kind of stranded in the same type of terrain that I got us into on the way up. Lots of loose gravelly dirt interspersed with bigger rocks that began to slide downwards when you stepped on or grabbed them. A smarter man would've decided to turn around and retrace our route until we found a better way, but at that point it seemed that we couldn't have strayed far from the route (we had just passed a cairn), and besides the lead hiker was in a bit of a precarious position and we didn't want to just abandon her. So, we pressed on, slipping and sliding up and down the slope, reaching for handholds and looking for the trail. Eventually the lead hiker got someone's attention who was also lost on the slope, and that caught the attention of someone above us who yelled "the trail's up here!". So, up and to the right (if you're on your back) or to the left (if you're on your stomach) we went. The hiker, then me, then Todd all safely got back to the trail and then immediately tried to spot Gary, who had gone lower, searching for better terrain. Gary spotted me and hollered to get my attention, we were then able to guide him in the right direction. Aside from our group, there were at least three others before us who wound up off-trail on that slope, I can't imagine how many times it happens every day. Needless to say, I was very glad that we were past the worst of it, and that the trail was easy to follow the rest of the way.

Todd on the Descent Into the Valley

As we were negotiating the steep switchbacks at the top of the valley, we came up behind three young ladies that were moving pretty slowly. We asked how they were doing, and found out that one of them thought that she had torn a quad (leg muscle) during the rocky part of the descent. We also found out that they were the group that I heard when they passed our campsite in the early morning hours. They we moving slow and cautious, but steady and they still had plenty of daylight so we moved on past them. Later as they passed our camp, we checked to make sure that they had plenty of water.

Valley deMagnfique! (French/Spanish for beautiful gawdamn valley)

Once back to our camp, we all washed up a bit in the cold mountain river, then drank a few toasts, ate dinner, and talked about everything and nothing at all until we were too tired to stay awake any longer. I really enjoyed that both of our campsites on this trip were close enough to a river that I could hear it rushing over the rocks while lying in my tent, such a relaxing sound.

Part V, La Plata Trailhead, Leadville, Half Moon Trailhead, Lawrence, Baldwin City (8/13/20)

We woke up Friday morning and slowly started tearing down and packing up. We had an approximate 2 mile hike down to the trailhead in front of us and it worried me a bit. The way up had been a little precarious because of our heavy packs and the steep trail. As it turned out, my boots seemed to slip on the dirt less on the way down than they had on the way up, so thankfully it was an uneventful and enjoyable final descent.

                                             Todd Just After Crossing the River Bridge

Gary had read that the local rivers (North and South Forks of Lake Creek) had some natural metal contaminants in them so we knew that just using Aquatabs to kill bacteria wouldn't be sufficient to purify our drinking water. Fortunately, Todd already had the solution. He owned a Grayl Geopress water purifier, which filters out practically everything including metals. He seemed to like it, so Gary and I each ordered one for the trip. I love the easy to use design, and so far none of us has gotten sick or rusted out from the inside, so I think they worked. You can see the reddish discoloration in the rocks in the below pic, presumably from the metals in the water.

                                                               Red Rocks of Lake Creek

Three Bitchin' Dudes

It was less than an hour's drive from the trailhead to Leadville where we planned to have lunch. We assumed that High Mountain Pies would open around 11:30 or so, we arrived at 11:37 (I was pissed that we were late).

No, It Wasn't Vegan, but MMMMM that Bleu Cheese Dressing

If You're Ever in Leadville, I Highly Recommend High Mountain Pies

Shameless Plug for Our Corporate Sponsor

After lunch, we sadly went our separate ways. Todd was headed for Half Moon Campground to meet up with some friends for more mountain adventures, while Gary and I saddled up Lil' Red and headed for home. I like to think that I'll get the chance to enjoy another 14'er or two in the future, but if not, I've got enough great memories of this trip for a lifetime. The mountains are patient, I will be too. :-)

Todd's video of the trip. https://youtu.be/laDyxqxeDXU

For Geeks Only: My Garmin stopped in the middle of the trek from our campsite to the peak for some reason, and it was a while before I realized and restarted the activity, thus the two below screenshots.

A September To Remember

Sometime this past spring, I pulled a core muscle while doing plank rows (not the greatest first line in a story, but it sets the tone). I had a similar injury 3 or 4 years ago while doing planks and I found that (after more than a year) the injury just wouldn't heal until I stopped running completely for 6 or 8 weeks. Needless to say, I've since stopped doing planks. I had already signed up for several races though, so I decided that I would just run them all before taking some time off to heal. The one good thing about the groin injury is that it doesn't really affect my running. The only time that it's noticeable is when I'm getting out of bed in the morning or stretching. The last races on my calendar were in September, so the plan is to stop running for all of October and at least part of November. As it turned out, I had some sort of running event every weekend in September, so I was able to finish with a month full of fun running events.

Weekend One, The Hawk - I like to think of the Hawk weekend as Christmas for Trail Hawks. Since this event is such a huge undertaking, nearly every Trail Hawk is somehow involved, so I get to see lots of friends that I don't see often. I helped setup the Lands End aid station on Friday night before enjoying the awesome pre-race meal. On Saturday morning I helped at Lands End Aid Station, then went home for a nap to rest up for pacing Bill on loop 3 of his hundred mile race.

At Lands End Aid Station

The heat/humidity were really taking a toll on the runners in the afternoon. We started loop 3 around 7 PM, and Bill was feeling better (after overheating on loop 2) by the time we got back to West Park Road, but the lightning and anticipated storm had us wondering if we should just stay at the aid station till things calmed down. The lightning seemed to be moving off to the north, and the thunder was more distant, so we headed out for the Bunker Hill/dirt road section. Aside from some light rain, things went well till we were just past Lands End. While Bill was fueling up at the Lands End aid station, I overheard that the lightning that we could see was part of a storm that should just miss Clinton Lake, so we should be good all the way back to the start/finish. I also overheard my favorite quote of the night as a sick runner decided it was time to get off of the tarp where he'd been recovering from (I presume ) overheating, "Dude, don't roll in your own puke" (to me, it seems better than rolling in someone else's). So, we were just a mile or so past Lands End when the storm hit. As the trail quickly became a river, we debated whether or not to put on our rain ponchos. Once we were thoroughly drenched we finally decided to stop and put them on. I feel somewhat to blame for this as I had just shared my rain poncho theory with Bill, which was that the surest way to prevent a rain storm is to carry around a rain poncho. I had a dozen or so in the basement that I'd acquired over the years, and had never once needed to use any of them. It was a slippery muddy mess for the next 1-2 hours as we finished up loop 3. I was just glad that my sandals didn't slide off my feet in the mud, and that I'd managed to keep Bill moving and on-course.  He seemed in good spirits, as there was nothing to do but laugh at the mud, he also seemed to still be moving very well after 75 miles. Bill and I had gabbed the whole night through, but the conversation that I remember most is when we were reciting our favorite lines from Townes VanZandt songs. I'm sure he's still impressed at my rendition of "To Live is to Fly". I left for home shortly after Bill and Shari headed out for loop 4, not envying the miles of mud that they faced, but knowing that they' d manage to have fun anyway.

Moon over Clinton Lake (taken during a restroom stop near Lands End)

Weekend Two, The Moonlight Levee Run - The idea was born on a run, naturally. Adrian, Al, Jeff, and I were running the levee one Saturday morning in August, and I thought "This would be fun to run under a full moon". About a week later, I Googled "Full Moon" and was happy to see that the next one would be Friday the 13th. All I had to do was send out a Facebook invite and show up at the parking lot by the levee. We started at sunset (7:30) and headed west to watch the colors of the fading daylight, then turned around to watch the moonrise on the return trip.  The weather was perfect, in the 70's with no clouds to obscure the moon. There were around 15 of us that showed up to run, with different pace/distance groups breaking off after the start. Afterwards, several of us met up at the Kaw Valley Public House for a few cool-down brews. It was definitely one of the highlights of my summer.

The Full Moon Crew (John was really revved up :-))

(l-r) Adrian, Al, Moon, Shari, me)

Weekend Three, Konquer the Konza - I really love this race. It's a 10k/25k on the Konza Prairie, just south of Manhattan, KS. The open prairie views are just stunning. There are a few good climbs on the course (one that is steep enough that limestone steps have been put in to combat erosion), but it's not technical at all. The surface is almost entirely dirt roads or a fine gravel similar to rails to trails surfaces. Due to a forecast morning storm, the start time was pushed back to noon. The delay was welcome since it's an hour and a half drive from Lawrence. In fact, as we (Adrian, Al, me) got our bibs before the race, the cold beer tub was just too tempting to pass up, I mean, it was after 11:00, soooo...... :-) There were several Trail Hawks that made the drive (no Lawrence/Manhattan rivalry amongst trail runners), so several of us met afterwards in Manhattan for some delicious pizza at AJ's, which has a huge shady outdoor dining area that was perfect for a bunch of sweaty/stinky/starving trail runners.

Shari, Al, me

Adrian, Al, me

(clockwise from left) Bruce, Mike's sister ??, Mike, Adrian, Al, Colinda, John, Shari, me at AJ's

Weekend Four, Flatrock 25 - I have a love/hate relationship with the Flatrock 25k/50k races. I absolutely love the course, the people, the history etc., it was my first ultra back in 2013. I ran that year with my brother in-law John, and 10 minutes before the start, it began pouring rain that lasted the next 4 hours. It was an absolute blast! I've run the 50k twice and have dropped to the 25k twice (once because of an injury, and this year due to a scheduling conflict). One thing that I dislike is that I have to drive over two hours to get there, there are other issues I'd rather not get into, it's enough to say that I really enjoyed the overall vibe of the race this year after a few years away. This year, I gabbed with some runners from Mound Ridge Kansas who were having a great time and a guy from Arkansas (another Mike). Mike and I stayed together for the "out" section (~ 7.5 miles) and a bit of the return section. I enjoyed hearing about his running group that had come up for this race. I ran fairly well, but held back a bit as I had another running event the next day. In my mind, I was hoping to repeat my sub 3 hour time from a few years back, but I was not surprised or disappointed to see the clock read 3:16 at the finish line. A first for me was an outbound runner (as I was inbound) hollered "How old are you?" as he approached. He looked older than me so I didn't really mind, but all that money I spent on Botox was apparently for naught.

A very sad note regarding this race is that a 50k runner was struck and killed by lightning a short distance from the finish line. He was a young (29, I believe), married, father of 3, and my heart really goes out to his friends and family. I cannot imagine the shock and grief that they must be going through.

Cruising Early on the Flatrock Course with Mike, photo by Mile 90

Weekend Four, I Double Ogg Dare You - If you're wondering why I would schedule tough races on consecutive days, I can sum it up in four letters, FOMO (fear of missing out). 2018 was the first year for the I Double Ogg Dare You, and after seeing the pics and hearing the stories of how much fun everyone had, I just didn't want to miss out in 2019. The event is held at the top of Ogg Road in Shawnee Mission Park. Ogg Road is the favorite (read "most-feared") road for area runners to run hill repeats on, because it is a very steep half mile of road that's not very busy traffic-wise (the road is blocked off from all traffic for this event). For each loop, runners start at the top, run a half mile to the bottom, then run/hike back up to the top. The goal is to see how many loops you can complete in 6 hours (9 AM-3 PM). There is also a 5k race that starts at 8 AM. 

It was hot and humid, photo by Mile 90

Since the course is 1.1 miles per loop, 24 loops roughly equals a marathon and will earn you a custom shirt with your mileage printed on it. Every runner that I know has more race shirts than they can possibly wear, and will do practically anything to earn more of them. I am no exception. I wanted that shirt but I really doubted that I'd be able to earn one. I had no idea what my legs would have left in them after running 25k the day before. So, I just forgot about the shirt and had some fun. There were so many positive goofballs out there running up and down that road that it was impossible not to be having a good time. Everyone cheers everyone else on, whether going up or down. Diane was blowing her whistle, Jay wore a different costume on every loop, and Todd was out there helping/cheering everyone. Todd is recovering from an injury, but that didn't stop him from acting as a personal pacer/cheerleader for anyone needing a little extra help running a loop. I don't know how many he ran, but he sure made one of my late-race loops much more enjoyable when he joined me.

Before I knew it, 5-plus hours had gone by and I had my 24 loops. "I'm done" I announced, and then instantly regretted it, I should've just gone silently over to collapse in my chair. Coleen heard me say it, and she wasn't having it. Before I knew it she had filled my water bottle, ran with me through gravel road section, and then wished me luck as I headed back down the hill for "just one more". I still hadn't figured it out after that loop, because when I announced "Now, I'm really done", I was "strongly encouraged" to do "just one more". Yvonne convinced me that I could do it and she would join me on the loop just to be sure that I made it. By this time, my brakes (quads) were failing on the downhill, and I really couldn't run any of the uphill, but I made it. This time after making sure that my loop had been counted, I just grabbed a slice of pizza and didn't announce anything (although I did have time for one more), and cheered on the runners as they tried to beat the clock on their last loops. I will definitely be back for more Oggs next year!

A nice droneshot of the start/finish/aid station/turn around area, photo by Todd Chandler

(no obvious signs of PED use)

The only remaining running event on my 2019 calendar is to help out at Sanders Saunter in November. I bought a rowing machine a few weeks ago, so I will use it to keep my cardio fitness and hopefully strengthen my troublesome lower back at the same time. I hope to be fully recharged mentally and physically by the end of the year and raring to go for another year of running!

Night Hawk 2019

After being forced to an early exit (12 miles) at the 2018 Night Hawk 50k because of a torrential storm, a poor choice in footwear, debilitating cramps, and a famously weak constitution, I was more than ready for another crack at it. Race Directors Mary Ann and Shari have really built something special with this race. It continues to grow every year, and somehow manages to keep getting better and better. The volunteer support was outstanding as always, and many fine folks went waaaay above and beyond to find, map, clear (27 downed trees), reroute, and add safety ropes to this year's alternate 10 mile loop course. The alternate course was necessitated by the seemingly constant spring rains that had expanded Clinton Lake enough that most of the blue trail (and some of the white, below pic) was underwater.

Water Crossing (1st of 3), photo by Mile 90 Photography

As expected, the weather was hot and humid. I could add some capitalization and exclamation points to emphasize that, but really, it's late June in Kansas, that's what you get. Some welcome relief though, was that the heat warning for Douglas County expired at the exact same time that Shari counted down to zero at the start of the race (8 P.M.). :-)

With that, we were off. My race plan was to take it easy and sorta "float" (my term for not thinking about pace) early on and see what I had left during Loop 3. If anything was left in the tank, I would push the pace and go hard to the finish. If I was getting reacquainted with the cramp monster, I would just slow down, enjoy the fact that I was able to take part in this awesome event, and try not to trip and split open any body parts on the sharp rocks.

For Loop 1 I took it pretty easy on the initial road section (approx. 2 miles), gabbing with friends, then I just kinda lost myself in the joy of running trails again for the first time in a long time. 50k ninja Jay was with me throughout the 6 mile trail section and I had a blast hearing about some of his epic mountain adventures first hand. Jay and I separated somewhere on the final 2 mile road section of Loop 1*, and I stayed by myself (mostly) for the rest of the race.

Floating Along w/Jay on Loop 1 (photo by Mile 90 Photography)

*Side note: The bugs during the final road section of Loop 1 were insane. It looked like headlight beams when driving through a snow storm at night. My pace was dictated by how fast I could run while breathing only through my nose, everytime I opened my mouth, I got a taste of winged-protein. Loops 2 & 3 were just fine, presumably the runners had inhaled all of the bugs by then.

I was intentionally taking in lots of fluids. I started with my two handheld bottles filled with coconut water and chia seeds. I drained both bottles between aid stations (every 5-ish miles) throughout the race, refilling one bottle with plain water, and the other with Tailwind (Gatorade-type drink for ultrarunners). Also at each aid station, I washed down 4 salt stick caps. Well, at almost every aid station. I forgot the salt sticks at the end of Loop 1 and barely managed to keep the cramp monster at bay. I felt the pre-cramp twinges just after I reentered the trail section on Loop 2. Thankfully, it was just a warning and no full-on cramping ever happened (although I got a similar warning in the same place on the trail during Loop 3).

The highlight of the race was at the Lands End aid station on Loop 3. I had possibly the best aid station food that I've ever had. Caroline and/or Lori had made potato pancakes, I cannot possibly explain how delicious they were. They were simply the best food I could imagine at that time. To top it off, and to wash it down, Kim (as promised, thank you!) had an ice cold beer waiting for me. I meant to have just a small cup, but with some help from Josh, we drained the can down to a trail-safe level and I headed back into the woods carrying two water bottles and a half can of Kolsch (yes, I crumpled the empty can and stuck it in my pocket through the finish).

End of the Trail on Loop 3. Just 2 Miles of Roads To Go (photo by Mile 90 Photography)

At the end of the trail section, there was a group of runners that had recently passed me. They had gathered together at the beginning of the road section. Since I didn't know how long they would stand there, I started running around them. They took off running just as I was in the middle of them. A wiser man would've just moved back to my prior position behind them. Instead I opted to pass them. This added a little drama to my race. Shortly afterwards, I realized that they were pushing a pretty good pace. A combination of stubbornness and the fact that I was surprisingly still feeling pretty good, had me determined to outrun them the last 2 miles to the finish. I would push hard for a while and not hear anyone behind me, look over my shoulder and see that their headlamps were still right behind me. I even ran (instead of hiked) up the last two big hills in this section. It made no difference, they weren't falling back at all. I did manage to hang on in front of them through the finish (or maybe they just let the old man have his day), but I ran that last 2 miles harder than any of the prior 29 miles.

Aaaaand Done! (photo by Mile 90 Photography)

If you can't tell by now, I really love this race. It's been so awesome to see Mary Ann and Shari come up with a great idea and not only pull it off, but make it better every year. Thank you is not enough for everyone who put in countless hours pulling off this labor of love, but just the same, thank you!


WARNING, the below is unimportant rambling not relevant to anyone smart enough to wear shoes while running outdoors, but I'm hopelessly compelled to include it anyway. If you're familiar with the old TV show Cheers, the following paragraph is my version of "Clavining".

At last year's Night Hawk, I discovered that if you're barefoot, sandals are useless in deep squishy mud. Once the mud gets between the bottom of your bare foot and the footbed of the sandal, bad things happen. Your foot starts sliding sideways across the footbed and soon the wet muddy straps start to loosen. Before you know it, the sandals are hanging from the side of your ankle. I had run several races with water crossings and mud before in sandals, but they were all in winter, so I was also wearing heavy wool socks. So, knowing that there would be water crossings and mud, I wore socks with my sandals for this race. Unfortunately, I wore a pair of lightweight Injinji toe socks. They worked great for the first loop, but as the mud accumulated beneath my foot, the straps began to loosen. They did well enough that I was able to finish, but the loose straps made the rocky rooty trail sections difficult to run. Next time, in similar conditions, I will wear my heavy wool socks, and all should be well, except that wool socks are pretty damn hot in the summer (duh :-)).