Thursday, November 24, 2011

"Skin the Turkey" Thanksgiving Skimo

Starting line of the 2nd annual "Skin the Turkey"
First, happy Thanksgiving to all.  Hopefully everyone had a warm meal and has slept it off by now.  This will be a brief race report of the second annual "Skin the Turkey" informal ski mountaineering race that we are holding in lieu of flag football or a turkey trot 5K.  

This year's venue was the ever welcoming Brighton Ski Resort and the surrounding backcountry.  We had 13 participants and I'm pretty sure everyone had a good time.  Our course began in the parking lot, followed a mix of groomed runs, cat tracks, and skin track to the Millicent Lift.  From there, we ripped skins and descended to the Twin Lakes dam where we skinned up again and made our way to the pass.  Finding coverage less than desirable, we turned it around and skied back to the parking lot where with skis in hand, we ran over to the base of the Great Western lift for the final climb.  The total vertical was on the low end at 3700ish but it seemed appropriate for the mixed crowd of spandex/goretex and race skis/Manaslus.  

In the end, Jason pulled off the victory after going back and forth with Jared and I for the morning.  The Samurai and I entered the last transition together and a spectacular crash while blinded by snow and high winds left me in third.  The others made their way home as the weight (gear) on their feet dictated and found hot cider  or cocoa and pumpkin pie with whipped cream waiting in the back of the Subaru.  
Out of the gate feeling crappy sans warm up

Pumpkin pie out of the back of the Subaru...Sanitary and Delicious!
It was a pretty enjoyable morning on a pretty enjoyable holiday.  Hopefully we'll plan better next year, get the word out sooner, and see some more of you.

Sunday, November 13, 2011

Hard Lessons: The Grand Canyon

Sunrise en route to the GC
The Grand Canyon drew me back again.  Viking Lars flew in after two weeks of training to run the classic R2R2R, and in a blatant attempt at one-upmanship, I was going to attempt the R2R in under 3:19 (Jason's time).  Last minute additions, Jake T and Joe K, filled the car and made for a high level of excitement as they were getting a second chance after being shut down on the drive last week due to snowy roads.  

But, keeping our priorities straight, we snuck in a quick lap on Baldy before driving down.  It was Lars' first ski of the year.  Perfect preparation for a run 16 miles longer than anything he'd done before.  With sore legs and poor training, the former All-American runner turned MMA fighter was in over his head.  Jake and Joe had been running all summer so I knew they'd get the job done but questioned how fast.  Nevertheless, on the drive down I issued a warning: be back at the car by 11:00 PM or get left at the North Rim.  

All of us had commitments early Friday morning and I hoped I wouldn't have to follow through on my threat.  I also hoped I wouldn't be the one getting left out in the cold.  We pulled into Kanab around 11:30PM and found a cheap motel.  The youngsters were soon asleep, leaving Lars to fret about the task at hand and me to battle a GI bug that I must have picked up from some ill advised food choice earlier in the day.  5:30AM came all too quickly and Lars declared that he'd slept for almost a whole hour.  Not good.  

Snowy sunrise over the high plateau en route to the Grand Canyon
Perfect running weather
We hastily packed and dressed for the day with Jake and Joe choosing to represent the JV team by wearing shorts over their tights.  Then it was 80 miles of beautiful scenery, including a gorgeous sunrise over the old burn on the high plateau just before the North Rim.  The open meadows were layered with new snow and a wisp of fog hung in the air.  Passing through I noticed the thermometer read 1 degree Farenheit.  Then 0.  Then -1.  Then -2. Then -3.  And so on until... -12 degrees F.  Huh?   

Snowy conditions at the N. Rim
Fortunately, the temps climbed as we approached the North Rim and reached a balmy 12 degrees at the trailhead.  Eager to get started, the guys jumped out and started down the trail as a pack of 3.  I stretched a bit and then struck out after them, wondering how the snow on the trail would affect my ability to run fast along the descent from the rim.  A few minutes later, I passed the fellas as they jumped out of the way, cheering and hooting me along.  My La Sportiva Crosslites were the right choice for the snow as the burly tread made even high speed switch backs mundane.  

A beautiful wintry morning descent into the Grand Canyon
Jason had given me his splits during his crossing: 45:00 to Cottonwood, 1:37 to the river, and 3:19 to the South Rim.  He had been going for the fastest known crossing time of 3:06 and change but fell short due to poor hydration/nutrition and inadequate specific training.  As a competitive older brother, 3:19 R2R was the goal.  

After having to stop to shed a layer and deal with a blister, I ran through the Cottonwood campground as the watch read 43:23.  Ha, I was ahead of pace...

Then, an emergent bathroom stop was necessary. Then another.  Swearing over lost time, I picked up the pace.  Familiar landmarks were flying by and my watch told me I was still on pace.  Then, while negotiating a rocky section of trail, I caught a toe and felt my center of gravity accelerate ahead of my feet.  I ran faster to get my feet back under me but was only successful in making my impact into the talus slope more dramatic.  Shocked, I rolled over to survey the damage - a bloody arm and a bruised hip, knee, and bilateral shoulders.  Not to mention my smashed ego.  I used to make fun of people who fell running.  Now, it happens with some regularity.  

Bitterly, I could feel the day getting away from me.  The weather was perfect and yet I was managing to fight against myself in every way in a game where each minute counts.  Back on my feet and running, the motivation was gone.  With a new soreness, I jogged the last couple miles to the river, arriving in 1:41.  Decent, but I was too far gone to push hard up the other side.  A man with more character would have gone to failure.  Maybe a man with more character wouldn't try to show up his little brother.  

Sitting down to get water at the river, I felt sorry for myself.  Why did I drive that far and sacrifice time away from Jessie and skiing?  Why such bad timing with the stomach virus or food poisoning?  Why do I keep falling?  Then I remembered where I was and really looked around for the first time since leaving the trailhead.  I remembered I had 3 friends having a grand adventure just up the trail who were discovering the canyon for the first time.  I remembered that I do this stuff because it makes me feel alive and fuels a deep happiness.  

I got up and decided to walk up to the South Rim, planning to regroup with the other guys.  While walking, I noticed the tiered sweep of the land and the snowy conifers capping the Northern rim.  The red sandstone was stunning in contrast to the subdued greens of the sage, freshly invigorated by recent snows and rain.  The day was painfully beautiful with a sharp breeze and a paucity of tourists and mules and I was starting to enjoy myself.  

Alone on the South Rim, I began to wonder about the other guys.  Walking back down the first switchbacks, I suddenly saw two figures moving much too fast to be random tourists.  Now it was my turn to shout encouragement as Jake and Joe strode past, 4:18 into their day.  I quickly asked about Lars and found out they had left him for dead back at the river.  Worried, I walked on, hoping to turn the next bend and see Lars chasing down the others.  

And there he was, just around the next bend.  Head down and jogging, the man had been suffering for hours in solitude.  I cheered him on and he yelled at me to wait for him as the view back across to the North Rim must have been rather demoralizing.  I laid down on a rock to bask in the sun and watch hawks catch thermals above the South Rim.  Some minutes later Jake and Joe came hopping back down the trail, looking cheerful, they asked for the key, saying I had better be back by the 11:00PM deadline.  That would depend on Lars...

Joe descends back to the Colorado River 
Ten minutes later, a rather spry looking Lars came trotting along and we were off.  He had made the South Rim in 4:35 and was intent on gaining bragging rights over another friend of ours.  His goal: 10:57:22.  

We ambled down the South Kaibab trail, catching glimpses of the youngsters below as they switch-backed toward the river.  Soon we were reunited at Phantom Ranch and a game of cat and mouse ensued.  I was continually impressed with all three of the guys as they were all having great days.  Lars, who had run ~10 miles/week over the last month was now 30 miles into this run and still light on his feet.  I caught him craning his neck to look around the next turn, hoping to catch sight of the others.  

And then it happened...  The inevitable implosion.  Walking slowly, his voice told me to go ahead and catch the others.  His face said otherwise.  I ran ahead.  

Catching the others at the Cottonwood campground they too were now dealing with fatigue and walking stretches.  I ran a stretch with the guys to gauge their mood (which was still high) and then sat down to wait for Lars again.  The sun was getting low and would soon be hidden by the towering walls.  

Having eaten his umpteenth gel, he was recovering and fast hiking the up and jogging any flats/down.  Falling into a steady pace, Lars made his push for home.  Over the bridge and through the tunnel it was now getting dark.  Back on snow, the rim felt close but Lars was starting to sway.  I'd given him my poles miles earlier and wonder if he would have collapsed without their support.  At some point we became aware that the moon was full and its powerful beams were reflecting off the snowy slopes.  Marching through the forest I was now content with a day gone awry that had been salvaged by the power of the natural landscape and by sharing the success of others.  

And a success it was.  Lars topped out in 10:36 gaining temporary bragging rights over our friend.  Jake and Joe barely missed their goal of sub 10 hours but had a grand time anyway.  No one missed the 11:00PM deadline and we all rode home with another adventure to remember as we go work, bleary eyed and happy.  

(All photos by Jake Trauscht)

Thursday, November 3, 2011

What not to do on a day off...

When you get one day off a week, the pressure is on to make each one count.  Here is a list of what not to do...

1. Wake up early.
2. Head up a resort with just enough snow to persuade you to skin from the car.
3. Follow a crazy samurai to the base of an obscure, very thin, ice climb that is aptly named, "Rookie Party", even though you know it's not likely climbable in the current conditions.
4. Allow said samurai to scratch around, while getting cold and scared (for him).  
5. Finally, convince the samurai to wisely turn around, still earning him the "Bail of the Day!"
6. Don the skis to make cautious turns until something breaks (luckily just my will to keep rock skiing).  
7. Walk a couple miles over snow dusted talus and cat tracks back to the car.  

Jared trying to decide if he really wants to commit to crappy rock, bad ice, and even worse pro.

Making the right choice
All sarcasm aside, it was still a fun morning and once the ice fills in, we will be back for a great day of playing in the mountains.