Moab, Arches, & Monuments

The open night sky before me stretches from horizon to horizon. The stars sprinkled across the darkness give the landscape some focus. It’s comforting seeing a familiar pattern to help orient oneself on our tiny planet. As I laid on my back contemplating the cosmos I felt at peace. Complete serenity encapsulated my thoughts while I rested on some petrified sand dunes. These sandstone hills rise slightly higher than the sandy campgrounds located in Sand Flats Recreation Area. Once above on these “slickrocks” the vista reveals the canyons as well as the glow of lights from the famous town of Moab.

The "slickrocks"

My friend Zak and I arrived to Moab ready for adventure. We stopped in Arches National Park and immediately went to the visitor’s center to pick up our permit for access into the Fiery Furnace. We had done some research prior to our visit and decided from looking at aerial photos that the pattern of fins known as the Fiery Furnace was our destination. The Park mandates each visitor to the Fiery Furnace either go on a guided tour with a Field Ranger or obtain a permit by watching an informal video of the sensitive nature within that location (basically don’t walk on soils, stay on rock or washes). Zak and I opted for the permit. We impressed the Ranger giving us our permit when we mentioned we are aware about the sensitivity of cryptobiotic soil and our background with environmental sciences. The Ranger then asked for our help if we knew of any methods to protect these sensitive soils. We told her we would work on it and get back to her.

Cyrptobiotic Soil

As we walked to the top of the slickrock our vision was limited to the haze coming from Moab’s city lights. The night sky illuminated only with its stars and the moon was already set for the evening. It became a trial of relying on our other senses to traverse the steep gradient of this sandstone. My feet were adept at providing feedback to prepare my next step. At one point I closed my ears and listened to Zak’s feet shuffling to sense which direction to follow. Each step was tentative at first but gradually I became more comfortable as my body dictated my balance and pace. 

The next stop once we had our permit in hand was to Delicate Arch. It was almost sundown and we decided to catch the view from one of the more picturesque arches. I had immediate satisfaction once we arrived to the trailhead. I took off running while Zak opted for a more leisurely stroll. The heat was familiar to me and reminded me of my former days of being deployed where the desert was my everyday surrounding. The dryness was similar but the expansive rock faces and monuments were other worldly to me. As I pushed my pace I wanted to see more and more. I was running fast and taking it all in. When I arrived to Delicate Arch I collapsed in front of it and stared straight up. I caught my breath and heard Zak calling me from the outer rim of the viewing area. I headed toward him and kept looking back at the Arch confirming its majesty.  

 

Looking up to Delicate Arch

The west view from Delicate Arch

While laying on the slickrock I noticed how much grit the sandstone actually had. This place is popular for bicyclists since the rock offers tremendous grip. Zak had told me before that I would love running here since I would get great traction and he was 100% right. The night air was cool and as we stared at the cosmos our conversation was occasionally interrupted by a shooting star. The largest of the night occurred while I was in the middle of a story and I yelled “Wow! Did you see that!?” to which Zak replied he had just missed it by closing his eyes for a minute. I found it so comfortable up here that I wound up staying on this rock and sleeping with the stars over my head.

The following morning we fastpacked through The Devil’s Garden while eagerly anticipating the Fiery Furnace. We saw the arches and even climbed a few boulders to get a better view. This hike took us longer than expected but we finally made it to the Furnace and the adventure was exactly what we hoped for. The passages among the carved rock were narrow and perfect for climbing around. We kept thinking that we should have started here earlier since we could spend all day perfectly content winding around these towering sandstone walls. We came across some waterholes and took the time to use teamwork to remove some litter another visitor must have left behind. Zak grabbed my left hand while I splayed out and reached far with my right hand to pick the trash out from the waterhole. Our mission was accomplished and we left feeling satisfied having helped preserve the natural balance of this special place. The heat was upon us and we had to leave since the cool air was rapidly leaving and the radiating heat these rocks collect was beginning to release itself. We both agreed that a return to this location was entirely necessary in the future. 

Skull Arch located in the Fiery Furnace

Avoiding the cryptobiotic soil

With the midday heat in full effect we drove straight to the Colorado River. We pulled over into a recreation area and bushwhacked our way to the river. Our shoes and shirts came off as we plowed into the muddy riverbed. The force and flow of this river was immense. On the count of three Zak and I dunked our heads into the water and I immediately felt the pull of the river. The water was opaque from the sediment coming from all the mountains and canyons upstream. More importantly it was refreshingly cool and brought our body temperature down to a comfortable degree. 

Colorado River

With the sun hanging at our backs we left Moab and began the trip back to Colorado. We would end up camping outside of The Colorado National Monument for the night. It was equally enchanting and made me appreciate this state even more. I got to explore some of the canyons here the next day and run through them contently. All this exploring and running was fulfilling to my body and mind. My legs would be sore at night but come morning they were ready for some more action. At night my eyes would get their fill from the vistas and my mind would relax with the soothing calmness of nature in the dark. And when the sun rises my eyes open and see the brilliant gleams of orange. I know another day has arrived and I’m lucky enough to be alive to enjoy it.

 

Conducting some "water quality" testing

Hardrock 100

The San Juan Mountains live up to their mythical proportions. Last weekend my neck muscles got a good workout from constantly looking up at the risen earth solidified into rock over millions of years. The span from the ground up to the tip of these mountains seems miles long. On the drive into Silverton, CO I saw peaks jutting upward into the sky all around me. The road twisted around corners and revealed even more mountains the closer we got. My friend Devon was driving me and his friend Avery toward the toughest 100 mile race in the country, The Hardrock 100 Mile Endurance Race. As we drove through the night the near full moon made the mountains glow and also created magnificent silhouettes of the surrounding mountains. We took it all in and knew it was only going to get better come daybreak. In the meantime I was comfortable in the backseat and tried to get some rest before the excitement began.

 From the moment we arrived into town we were like little kids, giddy and full of anticipation. We even made a comment about how empty the streets were at  4:30AM. Wasn’t this the most competitive 100 mile race this year? Where were all the spectators and racers? Well apparently they were soundly asleep or just slowly waking up. This race has one of the longest cutoff times for a 100 mile race at 48 hours and of the 140 racers only 100 would cross the finish line in that time. So it comes to no surprise that for those 140 racers they wanted to get to the finish line rested and ready to pummel their bodies for the next two days. We met one racer who had trouble eating in the morning. He looked nervous and his feet were taped up heavily from many training miles. We talked with him a bit and wished him luck. Our presence must have been appreciated since when he asked who we were here to support and we replied no one, he looked impressed. It was unique that us three Ultrarunners were here simply to be spectators and take in the race like any other major sporting event. The difference was that this sport was taking place in very remote parts of the mountains. Not only is the course difficult to traverse by car, but getting to the aid stations is a bit of a hike too. 

The crowd eventually formed near the start and soon we were among the best mountain runners in the world. Watching these world class runners mingling amongst each other was interesting. They appeared so similar to most runners but the main difference is that they had an air of confidence about them. Some were very talkative (Killian Jornet) while others (Dakota Jones) kept to themselves. Soon the runners lined up and the countdown began. Devon and I stood near the start to watch the supercharged stampede of the greatest in the sport run right by us. I felt so privileged to watch firsthand what was sure to be a historical race in the Ultra community. 

Killian chatting it up pre-race

The street emptied and we made our way to get some morning drinks at a local bakery/pizzeria/brewery. Once there we got advice on where to set up camp and plan our stay for the next day or so. After finishing our breakfast we got to Mineral Creek and set up camp along the creek. There wasn’t much to do since it would be at least 10 hours from the start until we would see the runners come through Ouray at mile 43. Avery was feeling spryly and felt the need for a run. Having only drank a few "morning sodas" I decided it would be good to get the legs moving and join him. Devon stayed at the camp and got some rest since he had driven throughout the entire night. Avery and I set off with no destination in mind except to climb high into the mountains. We followed the first trailhead we saw that took us to Clear Lake. It was an alpine lake that rested just above tree line near 12,000 feet in elevation. Usually at that altitude you can see a pretty decent view of the surrounding area. Not in the San Juans. Our view was limited since there are multiple mountains that reach 14,000 feet surrounding the entire area. We settled for a view of a pristine lake with snow caps suspended along the bowl rim that fed into the lake. There was another trail that looked like it might go toward the summit but we still had a race to see so we called it and headed back to camp. 

A fine "Morning Soda"

Another Hardrock fan.

Once at the camp we took down some food and hydrated with some leftover breakfast sodas. Just as we were settling down after the run a storm came in and we took shelter while is passed. It turned out to be a smart decision to come back to camp after all. Getting caught in the mountains while a storm passes is no fun. We ended up staying at camp a bit longer and found out the leaders had already passed through Ouray so we reassessed our plan and decided to head toward Grouse aid station at mile 58.

While waiting for the leaders we once again mingled with support crew and volunteers. The crowd was very relaxed and even the dozen media personnel seemed easygoing. This was definitely a beautiful section of the course where the runners would start the climb up Handies Peak, the only 14er they cross along the course. While waiting I couldn’t help but think of the incredible grit and determination processed by these runners. I’ve climbed a few 14ers since my time here but I couldn’t fathom running for 50+ miles and then having to summit one. But that was one of the reasons I wanted to be here. I needed to witness that passion to do such a task. I wanted to be inspired so that I could one day accomplish an amazing feat such as these runners were doing. While perched above some of the switchbacks I got to see the dichotomy of differences in the elite runners. Killian was like a well oiled machine and kept moving along without much hesitation. The runners that followed exhibited a more human appearance. They seemed exhausted but determined to keep moving. We followed suit and kept moving along to the next part of the race.

Killian cruising on by with pacer Ricky Gates

Meeting Anna "Frosty" - part of Killian's crew and pacer

We stopped in town and talked with some more crew members before eventually going back to camp to rest for a few hours. Those few hours turned into more than we planned and we awoke to find out that Killian had just broken the “untouchable” course record by 40 minutes. This was a huge surprise to us and even if we hadn’t overslept we still would have missed him by 15 minutes if we had gotten to the finish line by the time we had originally planned on. Once we arrived to the finish the fourth place runner Jeff Browning had just passed through. We would stick around here until Timothy Olson sauntered in at 13^th with wife and child at his side. Seeing him finish was amazing and definitely worth the wait. But the finisher that left me feeling most in awe was Tsuyoshi Kaburaki. He finished in 6^th and he, without a doubt, had the biggest smile on his face. He was so proud to have finished such a tremendous race with over 33,000 feet of elevation and intense storms (one runner had even been struck by lightning). Tsuyoshi had a large gash on his jaw from a fallen rock that hit him during the run. Also his left knee was bleeding indicating a fall or more rock getting in his way. The way he ran into the finish chute with hands raised and waving to the crowd excitedly left me feeling stunned. If I ever could finish one of these races it would be my intention to do so with the same gusto and attitude that Tsuyoshi had. I’ve seen some pretty amazing finishes but this one definitely took the cake. Even after Tsuyoshi was out of the finish chute when I saw him walking around I had to clap for him again and he gave me that same ear to ear smile with an acknowledging bow. 

Tsuyoshi with a huge grin in the finish chute

Tsuyoshi officially becoming a Hardrock finisher by kissing the "Hardrock"

This race left me motivated and I’ve been running enchanted as of late. During my runs this week I can’t get the image of those runners charging along the course and accomplishing such an incredible journey. It’s been such a great motivation during my runs and I’m so glad their inspiration is still being put to use. I am elated I spent a weekend among champions and I can’t describe the environment at Hardrock any better than with the words of Gretchen Leglar. Hardrock is indeed “That magical, paradoxical diminishment of self and enlargement of spirit that such a landscape brings.”

I can’t say I will ever run this race, but I might give the Softrock 100 a try someday.

Run because it's fun

The pavement is hot in the afternoon from the accumulated heat brought on by the clear skies of the day. The air is dry but remains surprisingly cool. It is the katabatic winds that drop with their density to bring this cool breeze down the mountains. As I put on my running shoes the loose dirt from my last run floats softly into the air as I tighten the laces together. I notice this hazy cloud because the sun is beaming into my room at just the right angle to cast visible rays across the floor. I grab my water bottle that is filled to the brim and head out the door. My feet strike the ground and the stiffness from the pavement will only be underfoot for a minute or two. A quarter mile from my front door I reach a trail head and I'm engulfed with wild sagebrush and its gentile fragrance. The single track trail that welcomes me is well worn in by the cattle that grazed here earlier this spring. Their hoof marks are cemented into the ground and created divots that require careful attention so as to avoid rolling an ankle. After passing through a second gate the base of the mountain is finally revealed. 

My time in Colorado has flown by. I’m amazed at how quickly I’ve spent my first month in this wonderful state. From the incredible high altitudes I’ve traversed to the beautiful streams and forests, it all overwhelms my senses. The wildlife is incredible and powerful. Not a day goes by without me learning something new about nature or about myself. I worry that at some point I will tire of this adventure but I know that with my passion for exploring and discovery it will be a long while before I tire of this place. My vision of Colorado is one of grandeur, like looking up at the impossibly distant summit from the base of a mountain.

 

The dirt remains loose but small cobbles present themselves along the trail. They are the remnants of the latest rockfall and are strewn among slabs of boulders that the trail meanders through. The vegetation begins to lessen as the surface gradient increases and only the toughest of plants remain. The trail tucks into the shadow of an adjacent mountain and the shade is much welcomed at this point. Since leaving my front porch a half hour ago it has been an uphill climb and still I continue to run.

My new friends in town have continued to show me nothing but good graces. There is always an invite for a get-together or for a dinner every few days. There are also local events occurring with more frequency than I expected for such a small town. I sometimes feel bad turning down some of the invites but I need some time to be on my own and go for a run. When I do go on these invites I enjoy myself but they tend to become all night affairs which in turn impair my sleep and liver functionality. These effects are usually necessary to add joy while in the company of others but I am careful to not get carried away. I know there is much to do and see the next day just like when you're coming around the next switchback of a mountain.

The switchbacks begin right after passing a flat white rock on the trail. The steepness gets close to almost making you want to walk but with my fortitude I push on and keep running. My pace slows but I maintain a rhythm and my heart rate beats rapidly. The shade begins to diminish as I gain altitude and return to warm sunshine. The bushes lining the trail usually shake and rustle a bit as small mammals rush for safety. Nothing has surprised me more in this section than when a ground squirrel took an enormous leap of faith directly in front of me. Coming from my right this creature jumped from just above my head and landed off to my left where the trail drops off. All the while its feet were scrambling back and forth wildly awaiting traction to come underfoot. After what seemed like a few very long seconds it succumbed to gravity and hit the rocks below me while scampering off without skipping a beat. Witnessing this animal's complete awareness of its surroundings and its own capabilities deeply impressed me.

While summiting some of the 14ers I have been taking a shortcut on the way down. I’ve recently learned the joy of glissading on snow and learned how much fun can be had with a jacket, my butt, and the willingness to trust my abilities. I basically butt slide down the mountain until I run out of snow or until the snow becomes cluttered with rocks and would make for quite a bumpy ride. At first it is incredibly frightening just jumping out and letting gravity take over but after a few rides I became confident. I was soon trying to glissade wherever there were any patches of snow. I felt pride knowing I acquired a new skill and could now master a tiny bit more of my surroundings.

The trail continues up more switchbacks and eventually levels off a bit once you reach the red sands. Near the first summit there is red rock exposed and much of its sand and powder covers the trail. Loose shale is also among the rock and crumbles sharply as you step over it. It may feel a bit wobbly if you over think each step so it's better to just keep moving. I continue running while acknowledging that this trail will change the next time as others will pass through and move these rocks creating new variations in the route. As I approach the first vista I pause momentarily as it still takes my breath away. The view is overlooking the entire town and in the distance there are mountains with snow still on the peaks. It won’t be there much longer and neither is my respite while gazing at them. I push on running ahead knowing the summit is still further along.

I still have much to do in Colorado. This weekend I will get to know the Mile High City (Denver) and partake in the 4^th of July festivities. The week after, I will be visiting the San Juan Mountains to be a spectator at one of the most competitive Ultra races known as the Hardrock 100. After that I will make my way to Steamboat Springs to learn some of the trails out that way. I also plan to visit Moab and Arches national park in the neighboring state of Utah. In August I’ll also be heading to Leadville for their own famous 100 mile race. And lastly, I’ll be squeezing in a few 14ers where I can while also training up for Oil Creek 100, my target race in early October. Just thinking about all I have left to do this summer is like having another summit still left to climb. Fortunately, I am an endurance athlete and I know each step forward is progress made even if it’s just one step at a time.

The flowers surrounding the trail are magnificent. Such tiny beauty atop a harsh environment is almost unbelievable. The summit is finally within grasp and my pace can slowly unwind while I take another respite at the top. I reach the clearing and fill out the trail register while catching my breath. I spend a long minute staring at the mountains and enjoying the moment. With a smile on my face and the wind still gently blowing, I turn back to the trail and head down. I fly with so much momentum and reach the bottom back to the trail head in what always seems like way too fast. As my legs regain composure back on the pavement a small child on a bicycle sees me and asks me a few questions.

“Hi, what are you doing?” he asks.

“Running” I reply.

“Why?” he asks with such innocence.

“Because it’s fun” I say without hesitation. As I the distance grows between us I can tell he is thinking over my response.

Then, just as I am turning down the street he yells out to me, “I like to run too!”