Tuesday, July 24, 2012

Uinta Running

Jessie and Lars went to North Dakota to visit her family so for the last couple evenings I've left work aimless and lonely.  Luckily, last night, Jake and Joe were planning on a quick trip to the Uintas for a change in scenery.  After realizing that we were going to run out of gas after passing the last outpost, we turned around and drove back to Kamas.  It was only a short detour and we were soon running with stiff car legs from the Crystal Lake TH.  Then, about thirty seconds into the run, I tripped on the smooth trail and went down hard.  I laid there for a minute or two while the guys laughed at me before we were finally off.  

There is a network of trails through the Uinta plateau that appears endless as it winds through decomposing peaks, arid stands of pine, and around calm mountain lakes.  The drive is really shorter than I thought, having only visited from the WY side in the past.  I'm certain there will be much more Uinta running in my future.  

On this trip, we lacked an agenda and ran and explored as children, pointing out a lake or peak and then discovering its secrets.  We sighted an aesthetic triangular mountain not far from the trailhead and decided to stand on top.  Moving cross country, we gained its western ridge which we followed to the summit.  On top, the lighting was piercing and sharp angular shadows were being thrown across the forests and lakes below.  Our return route was the eastern ridge of our unknown peak, around the opposite side of a previously passed lake, and back to the car.  En route, we couldn't help but stop and skip a few rocks on the glassy water but couldn't stay long as dusk and lengthening shadows chased us back to the trailhead.  

Jake and Joe enjoying some evening running in the Uintas

Nearing the summit

Heading home

Looking SW toward the Wasatch.  Timp and Provo Canyon are visible left of center.

Jake and Joe on the summit

Descending the eastern ridge of our unknown peak

Can't pass up a chance to skip rocks

Our little adventure (after looking it up, I believe this is East Long Peak above Long Lake)

Wednesday, July 18, 2012

Another Year on the Move

Brownian motion is the presumably random movement of particles suspended in a gas or liquid.  As viewed on a map, a GPS tracing of our outings probably appears as aimless as humans in Brownian motion, acted upon by whims, wind, and gravity.  The outcome though has been fantastic.  Another year has passed (academic calender) and I have a whole new set of memories, a young happy son, and a bunch of new friends and loyal old partners.  And being July, I'm at the point where I now traditionally reflect on the great adventures and happenings of the last 12 months.

As I've already posted, Jason and I had a fun trip to Rainier at the end of June.  My 2011/12 ski season is now officially over.  Rainier made for a good finale even if things didn't turn out as planned.  I edited another budget home movie with the very little footage we were able to come away with while trying to go fast.


Mount Rainier Speed Attempt from andy dorais on Vimeo.


Finally cold in a downpour on Baldy
Last summer and fall, long adventure runs held my interest and climbing in the traditional sense fell out of favor.    Through the winter, the snow never came and I felt unsettled about the conditions until late spring.  We raced frequently and had a blast putting on our "Citizen's Series" at Brighton, which we hope to continue this coming year.  Once conditions improved, we tried to make the most of the short window and had beautiful days in the Tetons and locally.  Lately, running has again captured my imagination and long adventure runs have been the most enjoyable way to move in the mountains and I'm back to where I started last summer.

With the oppressive heat in the valley I've had four options for running.  Suck it up and go early, suck it up and run mid day, suck it up and run in the evening, or find a reprieve by going to the mountains to be blessed by their good tidings and cooler temps.

With a busy schedule and a young family, I mostly have to suck it up, but a couple times a week, I'm getting out for some really enjoyable mountain running.  Last week, I made the most of the rain and explored some single track on the northern end of Mount Timpanogos and then ran around the west side and ended up on top of Baldy (prominent foothill) in the middle of a down pour before descending to my parents house in Pleasant Grove. I also was able to sneak in a lap up Hidden Peak and a couple outings up Summit Park Peak.  

Summit Cairn on the Utah County version of Baldy
Jessie and the boy on a run up SPP.  We took turns hiking with the kid and running ahead

Then, this morning, I joined Jared, Tom, Mike, and CJ on a group solo of the West Slabs on Olympus. We traversed the ridge to the main summit, ran down the trail, and looped back on the road for a nice 11 mile "run".  


  

The above series of Tom, CJ, and Mike was taken high on the West Slabs as the fellas climbed through some nice lighting around 7:15 in the morning.  Jared was left out as he was up ahead doing his own thing. 

Tom succumbs to the pressure of the camera

So as I now turn my attention to the upcoming academic year, I look forward to the growth it will bring; personally, physically for my boy, and professionally.  At the end of this next year, my professional training will be complete, at least formally, and I look forward to more balance.  Another great hope is that I'll see many of you moving randomly through the mountains.  While our small band of core runners that comprises the Sugarhouse Track Club has still been getting out, it would be great to have some more along.  I'll post, email, and text future runs for those that are interested.  





Sunday, July 1, 2012

Mount Rainier Skiing Speed Run: 5:00:57

Sometimes life dictates our opportunities.  We take them or leave them, but I'm finding that if I just take action, the excuses melt away and positive things happen.  This was the case over the last couple days when while looking for some fun and to escape the heat, Jason and I tried to pull off a smash and grab speed attempt on Mount Rainier.  Our goal was to establish a standard for skiing Rainier as well as to break the all time speed record of 4 hours and 40 minutes held by Willie Benegas.

Winning the weather jackpot
Leaving Salt Lake around 7 AM on Thursday morning, our chances appeared slim.  We reckoned we had a 5-10 percent shot at even making the summit given the dismal weather forecast.  We almost didn't go.  Debating alternative plans, while heading north on I-15, we were indecisive so the car kept going.  "You never know till you go" was the theme.

Arriving at the Whittiker Bunkhouse 12.5 hours later, we made some last minute gear adjustments, ate pizza, and drifted off to sleep as dusk gave way to darkness. We set the alarms for just before five local time, making for a relatively civilized start by Mountain Standard Time.  The day was already dawning when we awoke and still needing to secure climbing permits, we drove up to Paradise laughing at the weather.  It was foggy with a light drizzle. Visibility was a couple hundred meters as best.  The rangers said Camp Muir was in the clouds and the winds were gusting to 60 mph.

This forecast, and our unfamiliarity with the Disappointment Cleaver, led to a "safe" speed attempt.  We did not cut corners and brought the following items:

1. Full avy gear
2. Glacier travel kit including rope, harnesses, prussiks, Tibloc, spare sling/carabiners, ice screw, ice axe, crampons
3. Extra clothes including puffy, shell, 2 pairs of gloves, beanie, extra pants
4. Misc items such as headlamp (starting at 7AM) and googles

As it happened, we did not need a single item listed above.  We did rope up on the upper mountain while ascending but that was because we initially thought we would have poor visibility and did not adjust our plans on the fly (Disclaimer - the first rule of glacier travel is to always rope up).

Our Story:

After securing our permits, we started by running up the melted out stairs from the parking lot at Paradise.  A race transition saw us skinning toward the Muir Snowfield under threatening skies and poor visibility.  We followed the marked route and had to transition four or five times as parts were melted out, exposing sections of rocky trail.  Our pace was steady but slightly limited by the lack of refreeze overnight (snow level was 10000 feet) and slushy conditions. Jason's altimeter ticked over 3000 vertical gained at just over one hour.  On Willie's record run, he tagged the summit in 3 hours and 20 minutes.  We were on pace but knew we would slow as the air thinned.

Improving visibility but threatening weather looming

On the Muir Snowfield, we followed the veritable highway of tracks. A section of clouds to the east appeared brighter than the rest and I thought the sun might be trying to show itself.  Drawing closer to Camp Muir, the clouds parted and the entire upper mountain was basking in the morning light.  Still passing through the cloud deck, we couldn't tell if the ebb and flow of the clouds would swallow it back up.  A descending party sneered that our clear weather wouldn't last.

Rolling through Camp Muir at one hour and 34 minutes we were still holding 3000 feet/hour.  We nodded a hello to a large guided party and immediately began crossing the Cowlitz Glacier toward Cathedral Rocks and the Ingraham Glacier.  10 minutes later, we turned the corner and were greeted by  striking views of the Ingraham, Emmons, Disappointment Cleaver, and Little Tahoma Peak.  The undercast clouds magnified the position and we were sufficiently in awe of the crevasses to pull out the rope.


Some scary looking holes on the Ingraham Glacier


Little Tahoma poking through the swamp

Rope or no rope?  


This proved to be a deterrent to speed, not only because of the weight, but more so because of the hassle of adjusting pace and dealing with slack through switchbacks and over slight changes in pitch.  The skis came off a couple more times through rocky sections while ascending the Cleaver and then the ski crampons came out once the slushy snow gave way to a bulletproof mix of snow and ice.  The sun was strong, but I was fearful that a moderate breeze would prevent any significant softening.  I was worried about the descent under the pressure of the clock.

We stopped a couple more times above the DC.  Once was to put on my Ferossi jacket as from Camp Muir to well above the Cleaver, I was in a T-shirt. We also found that booting felt easier, at least subjectively, on the upper reaches.  This allowed us to stay in the well worn and marked track, eliminating any of the cognitive aspects of glacial travel.  Our only focus was moving onward and upward.


Pulling out the ski crampons high on the Disappointment Cleaver

Looking down from the DC toward our ascent path.  Ingraham Flat Camp is visible just left of center with a faint trail above that. 

Finally deciding to put on a jacket

Initially, we thought the altitude would give us fits, coming from Utah where we rarely exceed 11,000 feet.  This concern was especially poignant given Jason's only other experience on Mount Rainier two years ago when he essentially came straight from sea level (Indiana) to 14K where he moved more slowly than I have ever seen him move in the mountains.  This time however, we remained relatively impervious to the moderately high altitude.  Sure we moved more slowly than lower on the mountain, but our cadence was acceptable and we began to catch and pass the parties that had started long long before.

Suddenly, we crested the crater rim and could see the true summit rising slightly on the other side.  We ditched the rope and packs and nearly ran across the crater on skis.  Another race transition ensued but we used a minute or two for some obligatory summit shots.  The watch read 3:54.


Jason on the summit of Mount Rainier


Andy on the summit of Mount Rainier

Then it was a bone jarring descent across the crater to pick up our gear before side stepping up the rim to find over 9000 feet of insanely beautiful terrain between our skis.  We tried to safely rally the bullet upper mountain by following the up track and looking for the smoothest, least wind affected surfaces to negotiate on our race skis.  Maybe 1000 feet off the summit, the sun was doing its job and the snow was becoming edgeable.

Soon we were back on the Cleaver where we found perfect corn.  We skied this section relatively fast and then transitioned to skins on for the short rising traverse back to the Ingraham Flats campground.  A couple parties of mountaineers cheered us on and provided great motivation as we came off the Cleaver.  Then, a couple skis on/skis off transitions got us through the rocks and back to the Cowlitz, which we straight-lined to Camp Muir.

At this point, the overall record was out of reach but we could still feel sub 5 hours.  The Muir Snowfield is long and gentle but we would have to deal with near isothermic snow, poor visibility as we descended into the clouds, and the numerous patches of rocky trail that would require multiple transitions.

Without concern, we made sweeping GS turns past the rising zombie like mountaineer figures that were appearing last minute in the clouds.  We followed the wands along familiar terrain.  After the fourth or fifth transition through the rocks, I knew we were nearly home.  We had come to Rainier with little hope for success and were going to steal a fast time and set what we believed to be the skiing standard for the mountain.

Then I made a wrong turn.  The terrain became unfamiliar in the disorienting fog. There were no more wands.  No more zombie like mountaineers.  We continued on.  Gravity would take us to Paradise and our "record".  Jason checked his watch and by the elevation, we should be standing in the parking lot, gloating at our success.  The elapsed time was 4:53.  I skied into a gully that cliffed out.  I followed Jason up a small rise that also cliffed out.  We decided to split up and would hopefully meet back at the car.

I reversed direction and went what I assumed was farther west.  I totally gassed myself sprinting up another rise to try and get a view.  What I saw was alarming.  A huge glacial basin was below me and I felt as if I were standing on the edge of the world.  I turned back.

Finding Jason's tracks heading into the trees, I hunted him, hoping to find Paradise.  He had climbed, traversing east to a small saddle.  My heart sank as I saw his tracks drop to the west and towards the gigantic basin I had just avoided.  Left without a choice, I followed through rocky debris and dirty snow until the game was over.

5 hours, 0 minutes, and 57 seconds had elapsed and we had climbed Mount Rainier from Paradise and skied it to what we would later find out was the Nisqually River, some five hundred feet below Paradise. We were going to claim this as a speed record for climbing and skiing Rainier but since the route isn't likely repeatable, we'll call it a speed run.  And, even though we could debate times and route, it's all moot since this time is soft and we think we have identified a few ways to go perhaps 30 minutes faster.

Regardless of how badly we botched up the finish, we had fun and felt surprisingly strong throughout the whole day in spite of not having skied in the last month and a half.  We learned a lot and will definitely be back to push the ship out a little farther and see how fast we can go on this iconic peak.

Back to the beginning feeling lucky to have pulled that one off

Thoughts on how to go faster: 

1. Conditions matter - The snow on the lower reaches was near isothermic after multiple days without a good freeze and the coverage was poor enough to require multiple (7-8) skis off transitions.  This makes a difference as far as effort is concerned on the up but on the down it cost more.  (10+ minutes?)

2. Cut the margin of safety - We chose to go fully equipped with both avy gear (rangers had given warnings of moderate to high danger earlier in the week), and glacier travel gear.  While I don't advocate this for anyone and it's a personal choice, we could have left it all behind given the conditions we found that day and the nature of a trade route like the DC with its heavy traffic and marked path.  (10 minutes minimum both for weight and eliminating rope management?)

3. Weather matters - Similar to snow conditions, sunny weather allows for faster descents and eliminates our propensity for stupid mistakes like getting lost within a mile of Paradise. (10 minutes?)

4. Fitness/Sport specificity matters - While I feel that we both had pretty good days, not having been on snow for over a month and a half led to increased muscular fatigue given the different biomechanics.  This one was all off of strength for me as I've been putting in longer days but have lacked intensity.  (5 minutes?)

5. Route familiarity matters - Knowing where to go and having a sense for check points along the way makes a long effort psychologically easier (??)

Gear Used: 

1. Race skis, bindings and boots by Trab, Dynafit, and La Sportiva
2. Outdoor Research Ferossi Pants/Hoody, and Stormtracker gloves
3. Black Diamond Whippets
4. CAMP Speed Helmet/Packs, CAMP Crampons (Jason only)

Final Notes: 

1. We are going to call the official time 5:00:57 even though this took us far beyond and below Paradise.  Others can follow and end up in the Nisqually River but this isn't recommended.  Future speed attempts will likely start and end at Paradise.

2. Running through rocks in carbon boots is a bad idea.

3. Earlier in the season is the time to go...

4. Sub 48 hours door to door from SLC is funny to us.  I used to think that if I only had 24 hours I could run up to the Tetons and climb something cool on the Grand or elsewhere.  Now I have a new measuring stick if I only have 48 hours.

5. Mount Rainier is HUGE and we would never play this speed game on any of the other routes without full safety gear.

6. I believe that in the future the speed record for climbing and skiing Rainier will be pushed under 4 hours.  It won't be by me but that is fully possible.

7. I also believe the standard mountaineering speed record could be dropped well under 4:40.  Again, this won't be by me since I don't like moving fast down snow unless I have skis on.  Perhaps Jared Campbell should give it a try since he doesn't seem to care about risking life or limb glissading?

8. Skiing is so fast and efficient it's beautiful.  The equipment is getting better and better and the things that we collectively can do are limited only by our imaginations.  For anyone out there that would like to get started, get faster, ask for tips, share tips, or make suggestions, feel free to contact me, Jason at jasondorais.blogspot.com, or Jared at slc-samurai.blogspot.com as we would all like to progress and help others along the way.










Wednesday, June 27, 2012

Wasatch Classics


We are in the thick of one of the longest stretches of 90+ degree weather I can remember and I have been suffering.  I hate the heat and long for winter but have found solace in the mountains.  In particular, we have had a few fun days scrambling up Mount Superior's aesthetic South Ridge, poking around on Timp, and running up from the Ogden Divide to Ben Lomond Peak.

Superior is a gem in either winter or summer and Ben Lomond may now be my favorite run in the Wasatch.  I made a goofy video from footage Jason shot to try and capture our carefree evening on Superior, which is embedded below.  


Then, our longtime friend, Tyler Bushnell, came to town from Oregon and joined us for a run up the Timpanooke trail on Mount Timpanogos.  Being a new father, he had domestic responsibilities that kept us from tagging the summit but the scenery and company was great.  

Tyler on Timp

Finally, over the last few days, Jason and I have been in Eden, UT for a work retreat and spent the days running, swimming, eating, and hanging out with good people.  One morning, we went for a run up Ben Lomond.  We were thrilled to find low angle smooth dirt to the ridge that passed through a few stands of old pines, and then stunning rolling terrain to the base of the peak itself.  A strong cool breeze was reminiscent of the Oregon coast and I felt we'd been transported away from the Hell that has been the Salt Lake Valley throughout this heat wave.  

Jason and Stewie running slowly

High on the Ben Lomond shoulder

Matt Stewart admires himself on the summit of Ben Lomond
3 matching fools

The next day, a group of coworkers, nine strong wanted to go for a run.  Naturally, I wanted them to see and feel the joy of Ben Lomond.  Jason and I carried packs full of Gatorade and granola bars as some of them aren't really runners and the run is 15 miles round trip with 3500 feet of gain.  We went slowly and regrouped every 20 minutes.  Each time I would ask how everyone felt and who wanted to go farther.  The answer was always that they felt great and wanted to push on.  Eventually, we lost a couple, but we placed six on the summit and most of them ended up going farther then ever before.  

8 of my colleagues going on an impromptu run

Angus is more manly than you.  He eats small game raw. 

Shaneen, Jason, Tamara, and Saloni on another brilliant section of trail

The crew heading towards Ben Lomond

Tamara nearing the summit
Ben Lomond summit shot
Spying other peaks in the distance, I could see a network of trails along the high ridges that stretched on and on.  Although not pursuing my own agenda that day, my mind was already planning future shenanigans high above Davis County.  

Then it was on the the next method of dealing with the heat and a swim in Pineview Reservoir.  The pay beach is significantly better than the free beach and at $12 per car is a deal when 18 people can fit in a Toyota Tacoma.  

We all fit in two cars cause we are cheap bastards
With the forecast looking something like repeating 97s for the next week, I need to get out of here.  But for those that are stuck, these Wasatch classics are a good alternative to suffering heat stroke in the valley.





Friday, June 15, 2012

Salt Lake Skyline Video

Throughout our run last week, I was trying to remember to shoot video with the hope of putting together something beautiful and creative.  Every time we stopped, it was adding time to our day and I found myself pulling out the camera less and less.  Hence, the majority of the video is shot early in the day, which is OK since the early scenery is the best.  

The goal was to portray the stunning nature of our home range and give a feel for what it's like to cover rugged terrain freely and quickly (Ha, if 30 hours can be misconstrued as quickly!).  The mountains themselves are beautiful enough but it's hard to shoot video while trying to run.  The result, 30 hours on the move condensed into 12 shaky minutes, is below. 


The Salt Lake Skyline from andy dorais on Vimeo.

Thursday, June 14, 2012

The Salt Lake Syline: Our Attempt at Pioneering a New Alpine Run

A pause in the morning
I'm sitting on my couch after two days of recovering from a 30 hour effort to establish a new alpine adventure run from Draper to Ensign Peak.  The goal was to ascend Lone Peak and then summit every prominent peak on the Salt Lake skyline.  With brother Jason, we nearly nailed it.  Nearly.  

The Backstory:

A few months ago, while driving down I-15, my eyes were drawn to the mountains as they often are, and I felt sudden and real revelation.  The whole skyline was in view and I knew I had to try and cover it on foot in a push.  It was so obvious and to my knowledge, no one had connected these dots. 

Noah Howell had inspired by pioneering the Perverse Traverse, a link up of Lone Peak, the SLC Twins, and Mount Olympus.  The Skyline was the logical extension of his herculean effort.  Ensign Peak sits prominently above the SLC Capitol and is a fitting end point to this aesthetic adventure.  The main problem Jason and I contemplated over the past few months is how to piece this "run" together as the skyline is complex and changes constantly according to one's vantage point (I chose a Sugarhouse-centric view).  Some peaks were obvious like Lone, the Twins, and Olympus.  The east/west running ridges also hold some majestic mountains that are highly visible from most parts of the valley.  Big Horn, North and South Thunder, O'Sullivan, Triangle Peak, and others soon were added to the list.  The ridge above Neff's Canyon is also complex and contains many subpeaks and we would hit them all.  Moving north, Grandeur Peak, Perkins Peak (between Parley's and Emigration), Mount Wire, Van Cott, Black Mountain, and finally Ensign Peak would complete the run.  

Google Earth told me to expect around 60 miles and I guessed the vertical gain would be in the 30,000 range.  Being familiar with most of the peaks and the complex ridges, Jason and I figured 30 hours on the go would be necessary.  

The Story:

Flash to last Saturday.  Jessie and I are driving up just about every major drainage in the central Wasatch to leave food and water caches in an attempt to make this adventure self supported.  Going into it, we have high ideals and plan to maintain the cleanest style we can.  

It's now Sunday at 2:10 AM and my alarm jolts me from a dreamless sleep.  I grab my things and go wait outside for Jason so as not to wake my young family.  We ride out to the Jacob's Ladder TH, eating handfuls of cereal and going over the checklist.  Shoes, socks, tights, long sleeves, wind breaker, beanie, headlamp, food/liquid, crampons, ice axe, and more are on our person or stowed in our Dynafit X4 packs.  

At the trail head, it's cold and our breath is caught between our head lamps and the half moon.  We start at a light jog, knowing that we'll have to fast hike major sections of the day but in the moment, we need to warm up.  After what seems like an effortless dream, we awake and find ourselves approaching the Cirque under the gray dawn sky. 

















The hearty shrubs are laced with rime and we keep mentioning the cold that is now numbing our faces. As we gain the summit ridge, the clouds are swirling at our feet and the morning alpenglow is so sharp it's piercing.  

Rising sun over Thunder Ridge

Moving along the summit ridge


Jason in the alpenglow

Jason traversing above the Lars Line





Lone Peak Summit with Question Mark Wall and Utah Lake

Summiting Lone Peak in a little over two and a half hours without pushing, we both remark how fresh we feel.  It's good too since we can see Ensign Peak at the other end of the valley with it's monument perched above downtown.  Years ago, we hiked Lone Peak, unsure if we could avoid being benighted.  Now, the efficiency is intoxicating.  

We spend 15 minutes to film and take pictures and then start scrambling from Lone Peak's blocky summit toward Bighorn.  I had only been on this craggy peak in winter and had never traversed over it.  As I approach its impressive NW face, I'm harboring a lingering fear that it will be difficult.  Soon however, its summit is passing under my feet and I wonder why I ever had doubts.  I guess it was from previously dispelled rumors of 5.8 terrain.  The reality is more like 3rd class by the weakest line, although much harder options are available.

Off Lone and onto Bighorn
Taking an easy ramp to the summit of Bighorn
Jason cresting Bighorn with the morning clouds burning off

From the summit of South Thunder Mountain looking north
Jason negotiates a bit of complex ridge line
Looking down a bare Coalpit Headwall with the day's agenda ahead

After connecting Bighorn with South Thunder and North Thunder we find ourselves at the Coalpit Headwall contemplating our descent options.  I suggest traversing out to the top of the Y Couloir and then descending to the road.  We look down the headwall but remember Noah's tales of horror.  Ultimately, gravity pulls us down the shoulder then into the Needle.  Small ice flows are letting loose and producing a musical sound as we hop down to the Hogum Drainage.  

Nearing the drainage floor, we start traversing high skier's right in an attempt to avoid the worst of the inevitable bushwhacking.  There are no trails here and every person I questioned about a Hogum exit laughed and recommended otherwise.  Even though the sun is gaining strength and position, we put on our tights, long sleeves, and gloves to protect us from the dense vegetation. 

The battles are short and our plan is working.  We are connecting small talus slopes and patches of snow en route to what I hope is an older stand of pines where I anticipate sparse undergrowth.  Like diviners seeking water, we are guided to open space.  Through the darkness of the evergreens, the slope rolls over steeply and takes us to a secret passage.  Following game trails we emerge on the valley floor and cross a small stream on double logs. 

First steam crossing on suspicious logs
We decide to follow the Little Cottonwood River to near the standard Y Couloir crossing since we know there is a good trail on the other side.  Scanning the river for a natural bridge, we spot a freshly fallen tree that will provide passage over the swollen stream.  I tempt Jason to walk it but he defers.  Once across, he returns the taunt but I too feel sheepish and drop to move a cheval.  





Starting up Tanner's
We walk up to the Y Couloir pull out 7 hours after starting the day, shed layers, and then start walking up the road to where I've stashed food and water.  At the cache, we are quickly sated and start fast hiking the road to Tanner's which we will use to access the high peaks of the Cottonwood Ridge.  

This ascent goes smoothly and we find the dirty sections of snow enjoyable.  Nearing the upper chute, we both pull out crampons since we have them along.  Throughout the day, we had talked about tagging the summit of Dromedary since it is visible from parts of the valley but at the notch, we turn west and start climbing O'Sullivan without further discussion.  More tedious travel ensues and the hours are passing quickly.  First O'Sullivan, then Jepson's Folly, then the Twins are behind us.  We are making up time as we glissade into Broad's Fork, both with CAMP Corsa Axes (Jason's is sawed off and is a perfect running tool).  We follow tracks of our cousins, the traditional mountaineers, and are soon on the standard summer trail.  I want to run freely, but better judgement has us reining in our enthusiasm.  We are still very early in our day (12 hrs at the S curves).  

From the Summit of East Twin looking north

Arriving at the trailhead, I uncover the next food cache and we sit by the river to refuel and fill bottles.  Somehow inertia sets in and it's becoming hard to get organized.  Gels, EFS, crackers, bananas, and granola bars are strewn across the pavement.  A friend from work walks up and says hello.  In a frenzied manner, I tell him and his friends what we are trying to do.  He gets it.  He climbs at a high level and understands personal challenge.  His friends are from Portland and look confused.  I'm starting to get confused too.  Pushing creeping fatigue aside, Jason and I pull our shoes back on and start up the Mill B North Trail.  This time it is taking a few minutes to loosen up.  

We push up the trail which climbs steadily until just under the shoulder of Mount Raymond.  From there, we again turn west and begin running lightly toward Hobb's Peak and upper Neff's Canyon.  We know the Wildcat Ridge looms and hope to get across before night falls. 

High on the Mill B North trail.  Phase II of the day across the valley.
Looking west toward Triangle Peak and Mount Olympus

Photo taken from somewhere along the Wildcat Ridge looking north.  Our destination is the point of the mountain in the upper left.
Looking south, our route visible along the skyline
Scrambling over the Wildcat ridge is easy and fun.  I'm relieved it isn't proving more tedious.  And, traversing upper Neff's to the ridge was relatively easy cross country travel through open terrain.  While relieved, I'm still cautious.  Jason and I keep repeating, "no falls" and continually remind each other to double check holds.  Falling off the ridge would ruin the day.  
Jason and the Wildcat Ridge
More alpenglow
Finally, as the last hues of pink and orange fade on the horizon, we stumble onto the summit of Mount Olympus.  However, our last piece of technical terrain lies ahead as we plan to traverse to the North Summit, descend the ridge west, and then down climb the slabs.  I am tired but morale is still high.  Jason is unable to eat and suggests that to down climb the slabs in our fatigued state in the dark is above his risk threshold.  Happily, I agree and after five packs of Juicy Oozers, we are trotting down the standard hiking trail.  To this point, we had been nearly perfect in our quest to follow our version of the skyline.  But now, concessions were being made. 
The view from Mount Olympus just after sunset
Through the rough section of trail, we are moving more easily when I spot a head lamp bobbing toward us.  I yell, "Travis!" and the big man shouts a friendly reply.  He has come up to check on us and offer some moral support.  He wants to go on a run.  We are doing our best.  

He keeps pulling away and is reminded that we are 18+ hours into our day when our foot steps fade behind him.    He distracts us with talk of climbing, movies, and his organic chemistry PhD work.  As we exit the trail, the road feels good.  It's smooth and mindless and safe.  At some point, Jason looks down and sees 9 minute pace on his watch and wonders if we are going too fast.  My watch died hours ago.  

Next up: Grandeur Peak.  The plan is to run up Millcreek to Rattlesnake, along the Pipeline to Church Fork, and then climb to the summit and descend the west side to Parley's.  Cue concession number two.  I think this will take too long.  Jason agrees and now were are heading to the western trailhead and will both ascend and descend this route.  Our next cache is up Millcreek but we will get food at the gas station.  Pseudo self supported is OK. 

The gas station is closed.  It's almost midnight.  We have no food (that we'd consider eating) and Jason has been out of water for over an hour.  In a moment of weakness, we call Nick, who arrives minutes later with 9 double cheeseburgers, 3 large fries, and 3 large drinks.  It's so good.  I eat all three by the time we hit the Grandeur trail.  

Travis is up front setting the pace.  I can't tell where we are or how steep or flat the trail is.  I hear the crunching rhythm of our foot steps and am vaguely aware of Travis' attempts at conversation up front. I'm tasting cheeseburgers.  We sit for a second at the branch point half way up and I can feel myself falling asleep.  Maybe a quick nap would be good?  Travis calls us "pussies" and we respond to the call.  

On the summit, there is no fanfare.  We turn around without taking a single picture.  On the way down, we move at a half jog on the STEEP trail.  Perhaps the city lights are improving the mood, or maybe it's just Travis and his random banter at 2 AM.  Back at the trailhead, I wade through some sage and find our 4th cache.  Gatorade, EFS, gels, V8, chips, and bananas.  I want none of it.  It's cold and we are huddled behind a retaining wall to get out of the wind and the spray of an annoying sprinkler.  Travis is antsy and wants to get moving.  He has to work in the morning and it's now 3 AM.  

More concessions ensue.  Our plan was to move on to Perkin's Peak (behind H rock) and ascend the Southwest ridge to the summit and then descend the Northwest ridge to the mouth of Emigration Canyon.  We realize as we pass our intended route that to follow through with our plan would see us finishing at some point mid to late afternoon.  Jason still has to get home and sleep so he can make it to a long and very intense night shift.  To be stubborn now would be irresponsible.  

We bid Travis adieu and run the road to Emigration where Jason has left his truck.  Damn.  Morale is now low since we deviated in a major way from the skyline.  I eat a pickle and drink some Mountain Dew.  Jason has found his appetite and picks through our stash of food and then we are off.  

The first hints of dawn appear in the eastern sky.  Fast hiking up the steep trail Jason has been resurrected.  From stopping to take breaks on Grandeur, he is now climbing Mount Wire at a pace that will see us on the summit in around 35 minutes.  I'm hanging on but it's not smart.  I reluctantly voice my concern and he lets me in front (we don't like to show weakness to the other).  I slow somewhat but try to keep the pace honest so he doesn't step on my heels. 

Summit of Mount Wire at sunrise
On the summit I ask for the time and Jason happily states that from the truck, we took 43 minutes.  We are now watching the sun rise for the second time and are prematurely tasting the finish.  The steep descent to Red Butte is tedious but at least we are on good trails for the duration.  We cross the road and then it's back to climbing mode as we move onto Mount Van Cott.  Again, we are both surprised at how we are able to climb quickly but yearn for the day to end.  

On the summit of Van Cott, one more concession is made and we turn down instead of along the ridge to Black Mountain.  Down is easy.  Down takes us home.  Black is one of the larger foothills and I feel shameful for passing it.  Our adherence to our route and ideals has already been compromised though and it's getting easier to keep doing so. 

Descending from Van Cott toward Dry Creek
Hiking up Dry Creek I'm now finding that I am developing an assortment of aches and pains.  My back hurts and my feet stink.  I have blisters on the dorsum of my hands from the straps of my poles.  Strange muscle groups are sore but fortunately I have yet to feel even an inkling of cramps.  

Near the high point of the shoreline, I sit down and take some ibuprofen.  It's not long now but I want to feel good at the finish.  I used to live in the Avenues and would run these trails and up Ensign Peak often.  As we proceed, the checkpoints tick by.  

We are climbing again and this time will be the last.  Like a JV runner who has saved too much throughout the race we are now pushing again.  As the monument becomes visible we are still trying to get pictures and video.  Breaking out of our shuffling gait, we are running; legitimately and fast.  Not that it matters if we finish in 30 hours and 15 minutes or 30 hours and 16 minutes but we simply want to be done and are excited by the thought of just sitting.  

We tag the monument and startle some of the tourists.  Looking over the city at the skyline we can trace our last 30 hours and I feel strangely powerful.  

Minutes later, I'm sitting at lunch with Jason and his girlfriend, Amanda, who was kind enough to pick up two rancid guys and take them to get Mongolian Beef and General Tso's.  We couldn't be happier. 

Final Thoughts: 

We had some shortcomings but the idea and a close embodiment of that has been carried out.  On this "run" I set personal records for total time moving, distance, and vertical gain on one outing and don't feel utterly shattered.  Often after long trying days, I ask my partners how much money would be required to get them to turn around and repeat everything they just did.  

Could I do that again in that moment for any sum of money?  Not a chance.  But, I'm already thinking about my next cleaner version, my perfect version.  And, I'll do that one for free. 
The last few hundred meters of the day with a large portion of the skyline visible in the distance
 Stats:
~65 miles
~30,000 vertical gained
30+ hours from car to monument
Self supported except 3 cheeseburgers in a moment of weakness
14 distinct summits

Consumed: 
4 slices of pizza, 2 cookies, 3 granola bars, 2 EFS gel flasks, 4 Powergels, 4L Gatorade, 6L EFS, Mountain Dew, 1 pickle, 5 packets of Sport Beans, 10 packets of Juicy Oozers, 2 bananas,  a box of Cheez-Its, a bag of Goldfish, a bag of chips, 3 Snickers bars

Gear used: 

Dynafit React Dry Short Tights
Dynafit Pivot Summer Beanie
Dynafit X4 Dy. N. A. Pack
Dynafit Movement Powerstretch Pants
Outdoor Reasearch Helium II Jacket
Outdoor Reaseach Storm Tracker gloves
Black Diamond Z poles
CAMP Corsa Ice Axe
Katoola crampons