My goal for the next two months is to train up for a 50M race. I still need to qualify for Western States next year, and for some unknown reason, running under the qualifying time gets harder every year. (It can't be that I'm 59 YO, have no inate athletic ability, and am prone to overuse injuries... Of course not!)
So I've been having fun with my co-workers, saying that I needed to find a 'really, really easy 50M race'. Naturally, they all think I'm deranged. It doesn't help when I tell them that, 'anyone can train themselves to run 50 miles'.
If you know the rules for Western States, you will understand that, having lost in the lottery the last two years, all I have to do for 2008 is to run a 50M race under the qualifying time, and I am an automatic entrant. No lottery required. So I'm planning on Helen Klein 50M in November. Probably run Firetrails 50 in October as a warm-up.
But meanwhile I need to train. To keep my overall mileage low, I use the concept of back-to-back long runs. 30M on Saturday, then 20M on Sunday.
Since HK50M is on the bike path in Sacramento, I do these long runs on the local bike path (Alameda Creek). I went out Sunday to test the waters after my 2 week hiatus involving vacation and general sloth.
I started out with full plans to do a 25M loop, but coming back to my car at the 20M point, I'd had enough.
My regime on the bike path loop (as opposed to my usual mountain trail run) is to run the entire way, except the 1/4 mile climb at the start of the Meadowlark loop. It's curious that I can run this, while in the few marathons I've run, I've never been able to run the entire 26M without walking breaks. Usually by mile 15.
I trained for American River this spring with back-to-back runs, and thought it worked pretty well. To mimic the course, I ran 20M on the bike path on Saturday, then 20M on mountain trails on Sunday. The one time I switched and did the trails first, I found that it was much harder to run on the bike path the next day. So we'll see how the bike path goes 2 days in a row.
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Monday, August 20, 2007
The Importance of a good Altitude
The week before the Challenge, I had the opportunity to run the 10-mile loop at lunchtime. But it was hotter than I had expected; naturally I didn't carry any water. Afterwards I was slumping in the patio area, drinking ice water and dripping sweat. I probably looked like crap.
This 35-ish guy who works in Marketing came over. "I've heard you run at lunchtime."
I grunted.
"I'm trying to get in shape for a race. It would be really great if we could run together!. What days do you run?"
"I try to run every day."
"What pace to you run at?"
"Usually about 8 minute miles."
"I'm at 8:30 right now, but it would be good to push it a little."
I grunted again.
"How about tomorrow?"
"I'm going on vacation tomorrow. I'll be back in two weeks."
Afterwards I'm thinking I've made a tactical error. I had said 8 minute miles, but in truth, I had been doing 8:30 or slower for the last year or more. That's 42:00 or 42:30 for the 5 mile loop. My best time ever was 37:4x, done more than 4 years ago. And Tony was a well muscled, athletic guy, whom I'd seen in the gym doing handstands and then pushups while standing on his hands.
Fast forward to post vacation daze. Tony emails me - 'Run at lunch?"
I'm laying the groundwork. "OK, but I'm exhausted from my vacation."
So we change in the locker room, walk to the path on the levee, Tony talking. We set off running. My feet feel very light - I haven't run in 2 weeks. But I'm running wwwaaay to fast; Tony is loping along beside me, chattering away.
I can barely gasp a response. After a mile, I'm dying. My chest hurts, I can't talk. I can't keep this up. But Tony keeps loping along, slightly ahead. I hang on.
We cross the bridge and start back on the other side of the creek. Tony exclaims, "This is great! I've never been on this side before!"
I can't even grunt. My lungs are on fire.
Tony lopes along.
We come to the bridge at Zanker. Tony drops back, unsure of the route. I point ahead, and gasp, "Go under."
Tony trots up the incline on the other side.
My attention narrows to the ground in front of my feet, and my lungs, which are raw from gasping for air. Tony disappears into the peripheral clutter, but he's no longer slightly ahead of me.
I forget about Tony. I'm concentrating on keeping going. I ignore my lungs and try to keep up my pace.
I cross the bridge at 237 and start the homestretch. I'm slowing a little, but now it's downwind, and that helps. As I appoach the bridge at Zanker (now on the other side), I look back and Tony is 100 yards behind. I slow a little, thinking to wait for him then think - what the hell - let's push to the finish. My lungs must be gone since they no longer burn.
I cross the starting line in 39:57. Best time in several years.
Tony is a minute behind.
The next day, I start slower and manage a time of 39:27.
Then today I ran 38:44.
It's well established that time at elevation improves sea level running performance.
And I haven't heard from Tony since.
This 35-ish guy who works in Marketing came over. "I've heard you run at lunchtime."
I grunted.
"I'm trying to get in shape for a race. It would be really great if we could run together!. What days do you run?"
"I try to run every day."
"What pace to you run at?"
"Usually about 8 minute miles."
"I'm at 8:30 right now, but it would be good to push it a little."
I grunted again.
"How about tomorrow?"
"I'm going on vacation tomorrow. I'll be back in two weeks."
Afterwards I'm thinking I've made a tactical error. I had said 8 minute miles, but in truth, I had been doing 8:30 or slower for the last year or more. That's 42:00 or 42:30 for the 5 mile loop. My best time ever was 37:4x, done more than 4 years ago. And Tony was a well muscled, athletic guy, whom I'd seen in the gym doing handstands and then pushups while standing on his hands.
Fast forward to post vacation daze. Tony emails me - 'Run at lunch?"
I'm laying the groundwork. "OK, but I'm exhausted from my vacation."
So we change in the locker room, walk to the path on the levee, Tony talking. We set off running. My feet feel very light - I haven't run in 2 weeks. But I'm running wwwaaay to fast; Tony is loping along beside me, chattering away.
I can barely gasp a response. After a mile, I'm dying. My chest hurts, I can't talk. I can't keep this up. But Tony keeps loping along, slightly ahead. I hang on.
We cross the bridge and start back on the other side of the creek. Tony exclaims, "This is great! I've never been on this side before!"
I can't even grunt. My lungs are on fire.
Tony lopes along.
We come to the bridge at Zanker. Tony drops back, unsure of the route. I point ahead, and gasp, "Go under."
Tony trots up the incline on the other side.
My attention narrows to the ground in front of my feet, and my lungs, which are raw from gasping for air. Tony disappears into the peripheral clutter, but he's no longer slightly ahead of me.
I forget about Tony. I'm concentrating on keeping going. I ignore my lungs and try to keep up my pace.
I cross the bridge at 237 and start the homestretch. I'm slowing a little, but now it's downwind, and that helps. As I appoach the bridge at Zanker (now on the other side), I look back and Tony is 100 yards behind. I slow a little, thinking to wait for him then think - what the hell - let's push to the finish. My lungs must be gone since they no longer burn.
I cross the starting line in 39:57. Best time in several years.
Tony is a minute behind.
The next day, I start slower and manage a time of 39:27.
Then today I ran 38:44.
It's well established that time at elevation improves sea level running performance.
And I haven't heard from Tony since.
Friday, August 17, 2007
2007 Sierra Challenge
The 2007 Sierra Challenge:
Being 10 days of mixed suffering and cavorting in the mountains.
Day -2:
I arranged to arrive at Toulomne Meadows an hour before sunset and hiked up Lembert Dome to watch the sun go down. I got so engrossed in getting good lighting on the Dome that it was after sunset before I started down. I hustled, since it can be difficult to find the correct routeafter dark, and besides, I didn't have a flashlight.
Day -1:
After a restful sleep in my car, parked at 'Camp 9' (The 9000' elevation just outside of the Tioga Pass entrance station, I stopped at the Saddlebag Lake resort for breakfast. An order of french toast and bacon was too much for me to finish, and that would be a pattern for the next 10 days. It's obvious why we're a nation of fatties. Those restaurants force us to eat way too much!
After absorbing as much as I could, I drove up to the entrance station, parked, and headed out forMt. Dana. It's an easy 3-4 miles (but 3100' of gain) to the summit. As I looked around from the top,I could see rain in the canyon to the north (It's visible in the photo). There was a corresponding black cloud overhead, so I didn't linger, but snapped the enclosed panorame image and beat a retreat.
That was my preparation, and now I was ready for 10 days of relentless hiking!
Day 1
The first day hike was to be from the Horse Creek trail head, the site of my 'navigation malfunction'in the first Challenge, where I crashed through brush for hours on the return, unable to find the trail.
Although the main group was heading to 'The Doodad', Bob's description of the climb over icy Polonium Pass put me off, and I decided to try Whorl Mtn instead. (you can see Whorl as the fin-shaped peak in the background of the attached photo.) I had studied Bob's pix of the correct route on Whorl, and I figured if I was hiking with anyone at the point where the difficult (for me) climbing began, I would be OK. Naturally, the other guys who were also planning on Whorl were too fast for me, and were already long gone by the time that Scott and I reached the Pass.
Scott was planning on climbing Matterhorn, which I had already done in the 2001 Challenge.
(The alert reader will remember Scott as the holder of the record for a dayhike of Pilot Knob in the 2005 Challenge - 23:55. That's the wrong end of a record, but a record nevertheless.)
We were to part ways here, and I was a little nervous about finding my way back down Horse Creek Canyon alone, so I made arrangements to (possibly) meet Scott on the return from our respective peaks. So I contoured around Whorl on a 'ramp' (you can see the ramp in the distance of the attached photo) until the sandy slopes changed into granite walls interspersed with sage and other scrub. It looked llike easy climbing, but I was by myself...
I got back to the Pass after a couple of hours and hung around a while waiting for Scott. When he didn't show, I set off back down the Canyon myself, and almost immediately found a use trail, which I followed almost the entire way back to the trailhead. There were numerous 'ducks' marking this trail, very artistic and elaborately constructed, and I wondered if Bob had built them just for me. (He hadn't.)
The only deviation between the in-coming and out-going routes was over a talus section, where on the return, my use trail went down to the left of some ramparts holding back the talus. So this section of the use trail was a mixture of dirt and sand, zig-zagging steeply down the slope. As I followed it, it got steeper and steeper, until I started to think that this was a one-way trail - no one could actually go up via this route. Finally, near the very end of this steep section, I had to jump onto some rocks as the use trail became almost vertical and I needed some traction.
But after that I rejoined the route we took on the way up. So it remains a mystery why I couldn't find the trail in 2001.
My round-trip time was 8:15, and my peak score was 0 for 1.
Day 2
Even though it was only day 2, I felt that I needed a rest. Besides, the Challengers were doing a 25M hike with 5700' of gain. So when the rabid crew swept into the trailhead parking lot at 4:30 am, I turned over and tried to go back to sleep. Unfortunately the guy who parked next to me had a 1,000,000 candle-power light in his van, and the side doors were open so that the stabbing beams shone directly on me. I snuggled under the top of my bag and tried to ignore this supernova melting my car's windows.
Finally everyone left, and after a couple more hours of snoozing, I got up, had some yogurt with blueberries and grape-nuts, a couple of large glasses of oj, and set off up the trail.
Almost immediately I passed a woman who had an Irish Wolfhound with her - for protection, I guess. For those of you not familiar with the breed, a Wollfhound is a cross between an Airdale and a burro. This was one big dog. Later I was to meet a barefoot guy whose dog was wearing leather mocassins, for protection against rock cuts. (I'm just kidding about the barefoot part - he was wearing sandals, of all things.
A couple of pleasant hours of leasurely walking got me to the outlet of Gem Lake, where work crews had drained the lake to repair the dam. Twice I passed the cable-car track which the crews used to transport material to/from the work site. The lake was down about 50', which is evident in the attached photo. (Look at the tree line.)
I admired the view for a while and turned back. On the way down I noticed that I could see my socks thru gaps in my shoes, where the stitching had failed. I guess that meant that they were no longer waterproof.
Another tough day in the mountains!
Day 3
Being theoretically fully rested after my easy day yesterday, and night spent in a motel bed rather than back of my car. I should have been ready to charge up the trail to Piute Pass with the rest of the horde. I had stopped at 'Value Sports' in Bishop yesterday afternoon and was now resplendant in new boots, guaranteed waterproof, rockproof, and slightly higher than my previous boots so possibly scree-proof also.
The main crowd set off promptly at 6 and I assumed my standard position at the end. Bob was waiting back at the trailhead for some laggards, and they passed me after a mile. I hustled to keep up with Bob, so we could chat a little, Bob being one of the few people I knew well enough to have a conversation with, without the standard introductory phrases.
But I was having difficulty talking and walking fast, and after 15 minutes I told Bob I had to walk slower. In parting, he suggested I try Muriel rather than the day's destination of Goethe. I slowed immediately - I didn't feel bad; I just couldn't walk that fast. My chest hurt, the trail seemed steep (it actually wasn't), and I had no energy. After Bob and new pals disappeared ahead, I sat down every 10 minutes or so and rested a little. This was really pitiful, and I thought about having the doc do a stress test, maybe that very afternoon.
I had mentioned to some other Challengers that it was about 2 hours to Piute Pass, and here it was the 2 hour mark and I had probably an hour to go. (I just checked on the 2005 Challenge, and it was indeed 2 hours to the pass.) A woman passed me during one of my rest sessions, and she asked me if I was Bob! This might have been funny if I were in the mood for laughing, which I definitely wasn't. She introduced herself as Samantha from Sacramento.
It took a full 3 hours to reach the pass, but I had caught up with Samantha and we wandered down the use trail to Muriel Lake, chatting as we went. It was very pleasant to have a hiking companion.
We headed up the Lost Lake basin, discussing the route options. At the inlet to lake #2 we crossed over to the rising slope to the southwest and chose a route to the top that looked to be class 2.
It turned out there were a few class 3 sections, for which Samantha donned her climbing shoes. I told her that if we descended this way, I would need help, and she said that in that case, she would descend first and advise me. With this in mind, it was a very nice route for me, and interesting climbing.
After a few hundred feet, the slope lessened and the summit of Muriel came into sight. As we approached the summit, we encountered Gordon, Mike and Ron, who had come up from Alpine Col, and Rick, who had taken a different route from Lost Lake.
After the requisite hero photos on the summit, we discussed the descent. Rick said his ascent route was easy and direct. I knew that Alpine Col was class 2, and Ron, Mike and Gordon had come that way. I was a little sceptical about Rick's definition of 'easy' and lobbied for Alpine Col. Although Gordon said that the talus was unending in that direction, Mike said that it wasn't bad, and we chose to go that way.
Well, the talus was horrendus, tedious and unending. There was a excessive amount of 'BFT', extremely large blocks one had to weave around somehow. It took us 3 - 1/2 hours to go the approximately 1 mile from the summit to the use trail at Muriel Lake. I was amazed that Mike and Gordon had been willing to return via this route.
Once on the trail, it was just a matter of marching back to the trailhead. The only issue was, before or after dark? It turned out that it was 'before' and we had enjoyed the trail and the mountain for a total of 14:15 this day.
The photo is Mt Humphreys from Muriel Lake. Humphreys is one of the few Sierra peaks that looks impressive from the west as well as the east.
Day 4
I was only a little tired from the 14 hour day yesterday, but the real problem in returning late is that after getting some dinner and swapping a few whoppers about the day's climb, it's 10 o'clock and only time for 6 or 7 hours sleep. The schedule called for another 20+ mile day, but my aspirations were more modest - instead of crossing Lamarck Col and doing another 5 miles of talus-hopping in Darwin Canyon, I just planned on climbing Lamarck Peak.
Consequently I slept in until 8, then after a leisurely breakfast finally got started hiking at 10 am. The use trail to Lamarck Col disappears at Upper Lamarck Lake, and I spent 1/2 hour or so figuring out where to go from there. As I was contouring around a meadow to the talus field that I expected to find a trail in, I saw a hiker pass by 50' lower than I was, and, behold! there was a trail there. I descended and found a very nice use trail which shortly started switch-backing up the aforementioned talus field.
A couple more talus climbs, a couple more gentle slopes, a couple more snowfields, ( one replete with Challengers returning from Lamarck), and I was on the final plateau. But it was now 3 pm, and I really should be turning back. However, the spirit of the Challenge possessed me, plus the thought that the use trail going back was very nice (although I still was not carrying a decent light) and I decided to go for it.
Well, there really wasn't a whole lot to 'go' for, as the peak is a mere 40 minute climb (even for a slow guy like me) from the summit plateau, and I was on top at 3:40. The attached photo is from the summit, and shows the trailhead (the small lake with white marks nearby), the town of Bishop 15 miles and 8000' below, and White Mountain (at 14,246' the third highest peak in CA) 40 miles to the east. In the closer distance are the incredibly blue Lamarck lakes.
After taking a few photos I didn't waste any more time and headed down. I made no route-finding errors (even found how the use trail continued on to the regular trail below Lamarck lake) and was back at the trailhead at 6:15, for a total time of 8:15.
However I was still skunked on Challenge peaks - 0 for 4.
Day 5
Gendarme Peak (reportedly an easy 12 miles and 3500' of climb)
Bishop Pass is probably the nicest and easiest pass into the High Country, maybe 4 miles and about 2000' of climb on a good trail. Right below the pass, one peels off to the left and ascends Jigsaw Pass to Gendarme. It being so easy a day, and having no desire to bag any additional peaks, I once again decided to forego the dubious pleasure of starting with the pack at 6 am. After all, this pleasure lasted for me only about 10 minutes and then I was once again hiking by myself. Plus, I could get beta on the route from returning hikers.
So I decided to sleep in and start at 8.
Sometime after 10 I arrived at the switchbacks. A Challenger had passed me 15 minutes earlier, and I saw him leave the trail and head toward Jigsaw at just about the point that seemed logical to me, given the terrrain. So I did the same, and shortly encountered Ellena (the same Ellena I went to South Africa with in 2001), who was trying to decide what to do. She had been taking anitbiotics for a toe infection and claimed they made her tired.
Anyway, Ellena had a photo of Jigsaw Pass, marked with the suggested route, which she gave me. Good thing, too, since it wasn't the col that I thought it was. As I was heading over to Jigsaw Pass, I encountered a Challenger who recounted how a group of 6 had ascended the wrong col. The rest has come back down after finding a cliff on the other side and reclimbed the correct col, but this guy had had enough. Obviously THEY hadn't had the advantage of a photo.
Jigsaw Pass looked pretty steep, and it still looked steep as I got closer. Following the suggested route, I ascended the left sand chute until it narrowed, then traversed over to the right. However the climbing here had short ( 6 to 10 feet) sections of class 3 rock. At each section, I thought, 'yes, I could down-climb this section', but after maybe 4 of these short sections, the cumulative effect spooked me a little as I thought that, if I slipped, I wouldn't just fall 8 feet to the last little bench, but would bounce off that and fall the entire 40 feet.
I figured I must not have traversed far enough to the right. But by now, it was only about 20' to the point where the slope lay back a bit, so I thought that I would just climb up to there, go over to the right, and back down the easier section.
At that point I saw Bob and Ryan coming down, and I asked Bob if I could just go back down with him. Bob agreed to help me with footholds (which are obviously harder to find on a descent). He told Ryan to go down the left-hand sand chute so that we wouldn't pummel each other with dislodged rocks.
So we went back down the route I took up. After maybe 20' we found Ryan waiting for us - the sand chute had a cliff he didn't want to attempt, and we all went down together.
As we came to the bottom of the steep section, we found Corinne (aka Snow Nymph), who was coming down the right hand chute. Bob and Ryan took off, and I hiked back with Corinne. We had met on the summit of Pilot Knob 2 years ago, but she may have forgotten that.
It was an uneventful but pleasant trip back to the TH, with Corinne to chat with. The entire day hike took a little over 8 hours.
But again no Challenge peak.
Day 6
Another grueling hike is planned.
"Come, we'll all suffer together on Taboose Pass Trail." Bob beckons.
Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. What would actually happen is that we would suffer together for the first 10 minutes, then I would suffer the rest of the day alone.
I take a rest day.
I sleep in, have breakfast, check my email, look at the photos in Galen Rowell's gallery, take a nap, go for lunch, take a longer nap after lunch, then drive to Lake Sabrina looking for photo ops. I'd heard that this was how a vacation should be.
Being 10 days of mixed suffering and cavorting in the mountains.
Day -2:
I arranged to arrive at Toulomne Meadows an hour before sunset and hiked up Lembert Dome to watch the sun go down. I got so engrossed in getting good lighting on the Dome that it was after sunset before I started down. I hustled, since it can be difficult to find the correct routeafter dark, and besides, I didn't have a flashlight.
Day -1:
After a restful sleep in my car, parked at 'Camp 9' (The 9000' elevation just outside of the Tioga Pass entrance station, I stopped at the Saddlebag Lake resort for breakfast. An order of french toast and bacon was too much for me to finish, and that would be a pattern for the next 10 days. It's obvious why we're a nation of fatties. Those restaurants force us to eat way too much!
After absorbing as much as I could, I drove up to the entrance station, parked, and headed out forMt. Dana. It's an easy 3-4 miles (but 3100' of gain) to the summit. As I looked around from the top,I could see rain in the canyon to the north (It's visible in the photo). There was a corresponding black cloud overhead, so I didn't linger, but snapped the enclosed panorame image and beat a retreat.
That was my preparation, and now I was ready for 10 days of relentless hiking!
Day 1
The first day hike was to be from the Horse Creek trail head, the site of my 'navigation malfunction'in the first Challenge, where I crashed through brush for hours on the return, unable to find the trail.
Although the main group was heading to 'The Doodad', Bob's description of the climb over icy Polonium Pass put me off, and I decided to try Whorl Mtn instead. (you can see Whorl as the fin-shaped peak in the background of the attached photo.) I had studied Bob's pix of the correct route on Whorl, and I figured if I was hiking with anyone at the point where the difficult (for me) climbing began, I would be OK. Naturally, the other guys who were also planning on Whorl were too fast for me, and were already long gone by the time that Scott and I reached the Pass.
Scott was planning on climbing Matterhorn, which I had already done in the 2001 Challenge.
(The alert reader will remember Scott as the holder of the record for a dayhike of Pilot Knob in the 2005 Challenge - 23:55. That's the wrong end of a record, but a record nevertheless.)
We were to part ways here, and I was a little nervous about finding my way back down Horse Creek Canyon alone, so I made arrangements to (possibly) meet Scott on the return from our respective peaks. So I contoured around Whorl on a 'ramp' (you can see the ramp in the distance of the attached photo) until the sandy slopes changed into granite walls interspersed with sage and other scrub. It looked llike easy climbing, but I was by myself...
I got back to the Pass after a couple of hours and hung around a while waiting for Scott. When he didn't show, I set off back down the Canyon myself, and almost immediately found a use trail, which I followed almost the entire way back to the trailhead. There were numerous 'ducks' marking this trail, very artistic and elaborately constructed, and I wondered if Bob had built them just for me. (He hadn't.)
The only deviation between the in-coming and out-going routes was over a talus section, where on the return, my use trail went down to the left of some ramparts holding back the talus. So this section of the use trail was a mixture of dirt and sand, zig-zagging steeply down the slope. As I followed it, it got steeper and steeper, until I started to think that this was a one-way trail - no one could actually go up via this route. Finally, near the very end of this steep section, I had to jump onto some rocks as the use trail became almost vertical and I needed some traction.
But after that I rejoined the route we took on the way up. So it remains a mystery why I couldn't find the trail in 2001.
My round-trip time was 8:15, and my peak score was 0 for 1.
Day 2
Even though it was only day 2, I felt that I needed a rest. Besides, the Challengers were doing a 25M hike with 5700' of gain. So when the rabid crew swept into the trailhead parking lot at 4:30 am, I turned over and tried to go back to sleep. Unfortunately the guy who parked next to me had a 1,000,000 candle-power light in his van, and the side doors were open so that the stabbing beams shone directly on me. I snuggled under the top of my bag and tried to ignore this supernova melting my car's windows.
Finally everyone left, and after a couple more hours of snoozing, I got up, had some yogurt with blueberries and grape-nuts, a couple of large glasses of oj, and set off up the trail.
Almost immediately I passed a woman who had an Irish Wolfhound with her - for protection, I guess. For those of you not familiar with the breed, a Wollfhound is a cross between an Airdale and a burro. This was one big dog. Later I was to meet a barefoot guy whose dog was wearing leather mocassins, for protection against rock cuts. (I'm just kidding about the barefoot part - he was wearing sandals, of all things.
A couple of pleasant hours of leasurely walking got me to the outlet of Gem Lake, where work crews had drained the lake to repair the dam. Twice I passed the cable-car track which the crews used to transport material to/from the work site. The lake was down about 50', which is evident in the attached photo. (Look at the tree line.)
I admired the view for a while and turned back. On the way down I noticed that I could see my socks thru gaps in my shoes, where the stitching had failed. I guess that meant that they were no longer waterproof.
Another tough day in the mountains!
Day 3
Being theoretically fully rested after my easy day yesterday, and night spent in a motel bed rather than back of my car. I should have been ready to charge up the trail to Piute Pass with the rest of the horde. I had stopped at 'Value Sports' in Bishop yesterday afternoon and was now resplendant in new boots, guaranteed waterproof, rockproof, and slightly higher than my previous boots so possibly scree-proof also.
The main crowd set off promptly at 6 and I assumed my standard position at the end. Bob was waiting back at the trailhead for some laggards, and they passed me after a mile. I hustled to keep up with Bob, so we could chat a little, Bob being one of the few people I knew well enough to have a conversation with, without the standard introductory phrases.
But I was having difficulty talking and walking fast, and after 15 minutes I told Bob I had to walk slower. In parting, he suggested I try Muriel rather than the day's destination of Goethe. I slowed immediately - I didn't feel bad; I just couldn't walk that fast. My chest hurt, the trail seemed steep (it actually wasn't), and I had no energy. After Bob and new pals disappeared ahead, I sat down every 10 minutes or so and rested a little. This was really pitiful, and I thought about having the doc do a stress test, maybe that very afternoon.
I had mentioned to some other Challengers that it was about 2 hours to Piute Pass, and here it was the 2 hour mark and I had probably an hour to go. (I just checked on the 2005 Challenge, and it was indeed 2 hours to the pass.) A woman passed me during one of my rest sessions, and she asked me if I was Bob! This might have been funny if I were in the mood for laughing, which I definitely wasn't. She introduced herself as Samantha from Sacramento.
It took a full 3 hours to reach the pass, but I had caught up with Samantha and we wandered down the use trail to Muriel Lake, chatting as we went. It was very pleasant to have a hiking companion.
We headed up the Lost Lake basin, discussing the route options. At the inlet to lake #2 we crossed over to the rising slope to the southwest and chose a route to the top that looked to be class 2.
It turned out there were a few class 3 sections, for which Samantha donned her climbing shoes. I told her that if we descended this way, I would need help, and she said that in that case, she would descend first and advise me. With this in mind, it was a very nice route for me, and interesting climbing.
After a few hundred feet, the slope lessened and the summit of Muriel came into sight. As we approached the summit, we encountered Gordon, Mike and Ron, who had come up from Alpine Col, and Rick, who had taken a different route from Lost Lake.
After the requisite hero photos on the summit, we discussed the descent. Rick said his ascent route was easy and direct. I knew that Alpine Col was class 2, and Ron, Mike and Gordon had come that way. I was a little sceptical about Rick's definition of 'easy' and lobbied for Alpine Col. Although Gordon said that the talus was unending in that direction, Mike said that it wasn't bad, and we chose to go that way.
Well, the talus was horrendus, tedious and unending. There was a excessive amount of 'BFT', extremely large blocks one had to weave around somehow. It took us 3 - 1/2 hours to go the approximately 1 mile from the summit to the use trail at Muriel Lake. I was amazed that Mike and Gordon had been willing to return via this route.
Once on the trail, it was just a matter of marching back to the trailhead. The only issue was, before or after dark? It turned out that it was 'before' and we had enjoyed the trail and the mountain for a total of 14:15 this day.
The photo is Mt Humphreys from Muriel Lake. Humphreys is one of the few Sierra peaks that looks impressive from the west as well as the east.
Day 4
I was only a little tired from the 14 hour day yesterday, but the real problem in returning late is that after getting some dinner and swapping a few whoppers about the day's climb, it's 10 o'clock and only time for 6 or 7 hours sleep. The schedule called for another 20+ mile day, but my aspirations were more modest - instead of crossing Lamarck Col and doing another 5 miles of talus-hopping in Darwin Canyon, I just planned on climbing Lamarck Peak.
Consequently I slept in until 8, then after a leisurely breakfast finally got started hiking at 10 am. The use trail to Lamarck Col disappears at Upper Lamarck Lake, and I spent 1/2 hour or so figuring out where to go from there. As I was contouring around a meadow to the talus field that I expected to find a trail in, I saw a hiker pass by 50' lower than I was, and, behold! there was a trail there. I descended and found a very nice use trail which shortly started switch-backing up the aforementioned talus field.
A couple more talus climbs, a couple more gentle slopes, a couple more snowfields, ( one replete with Challengers returning from Lamarck), and I was on the final plateau. But it was now 3 pm, and I really should be turning back. However, the spirit of the Challenge possessed me, plus the thought that the use trail going back was very nice (although I still was not carrying a decent light) and I decided to go for it.
Well, there really wasn't a whole lot to 'go' for, as the peak is a mere 40 minute climb (even for a slow guy like me) from the summit plateau, and I was on top at 3:40. The attached photo is from the summit, and shows the trailhead (the small lake with white marks nearby), the town of Bishop 15 miles and 8000' below, and White Mountain (at 14,246' the third highest peak in CA) 40 miles to the east. In the closer distance are the incredibly blue Lamarck lakes.
After taking a few photos I didn't waste any more time and headed down. I made no route-finding errors (even found how the use trail continued on to the regular trail below Lamarck lake) and was back at the trailhead at 6:15, for a total time of 8:15.
However I was still skunked on Challenge peaks - 0 for 4.
Day 5
Gendarme Peak (reportedly an easy 12 miles and 3500' of climb)
Bishop Pass is probably the nicest and easiest pass into the High Country, maybe 4 miles and about 2000' of climb on a good trail. Right below the pass, one peels off to the left and ascends Jigsaw Pass to Gendarme. It being so easy a day, and having no desire to bag any additional peaks, I once again decided to forego the dubious pleasure of starting with the pack at 6 am. After all, this pleasure lasted for me only about 10 minutes and then I was once again hiking by myself. Plus, I could get beta on the route from returning hikers.
So I decided to sleep in and start at 8.
Sometime after 10 I arrived at the switchbacks. A Challenger had passed me 15 minutes earlier, and I saw him leave the trail and head toward Jigsaw at just about the point that seemed logical to me, given the terrrain. So I did the same, and shortly encountered Ellena (the same Ellena I went to South Africa with in 2001), who was trying to decide what to do. She had been taking anitbiotics for a toe infection and claimed they made her tired.
Anyway, Ellena had a photo of Jigsaw Pass, marked with the suggested route, which she gave me. Good thing, too, since it wasn't the col that I thought it was. As I was heading over to Jigsaw Pass, I encountered a Challenger who recounted how a group of 6 had ascended the wrong col. The rest has come back down after finding a cliff on the other side and reclimbed the correct col, but this guy had had enough. Obviously THEY hadn't had the advantage of a photo.
Jigsaw Pass looked pretty steep, and it still looked steep as I got closer. Following the suggested route, I ascended the left sand chute until it narrowed, then traversed over to the right. However the climbing here had short ( 6 to 10 feet) sections of class 3 rock. At each section, I thought, 'yes, I could down-climb this section', but after maybe 4 of these short sections, the cumulative effect spooked me a little as I thought that, if I slipped, I wouldn't just fall 8 feet to the last little bench, but would bounce off that and fall the entire 40 feet.
I figured I must not have traversed far enough to the right. But by now, it was only about 20' to the point where the slope lay back a bit, so I thought that I would just climb up to there, go over to the right, and back down the easier section.
At that point I saw Bob and Ryan coming down, and I asked Bob if I could just go back down with him. Bob agreed to help me with footholds (which are obviously harder to find on a descent). He told Ryan to go down the left-hand sand chute so that we wouldn't pummel each other with dislodged rocks.
So we went back down the route I took up. After maybe 20' we found Ryan waiting for us - the sand chute had a cliff he didn't want to attempt, and we all went down together.
As we came to the bottom of the steep section, we found Corinne (aka Snow Nymph), who was coming down the right hand chute. Bob and Ryan took off, and I hiked back with Corinne. We had met on the summit of Pilot Knob 2 years ago, but she may have forgotten that.
It was an uneventful but pleasant trip back to the TH, with Corinne to chat with. The entire day hike took a little over 8 hours.
But again no Challenge peak.
Day 6
Another grueling hike is planned.
"Come, we'll all suffer together on Taboose Pass Trail." Bob beckons.
Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. What would actually happen is that we would suffer together for the first 10 minutes, then I would suffer the rest of the day alone.
I take a rest day.
I sleep in, have breakfast, check my email, look at the photos in Galen Rowell's gallery, take a nap, go for lunch, take a longer nap after lunch, then drive to Lake Sabrina looking for photo ops. I'd heard that this was how a vacation should be.
Day 7
Another easy day planned for this intrepid slacker. The plan was 22 miles and 7300' of climb to West Vidette. I was going to explore the northwest ridge on University Peak.
Up, up on Kersarge Pass Trail. Once there, drop down and contour to the left for the Upper Kersarge Lakes. It's sandy slopes and granite slabs. I go around the two lakes on the east and it's easy going. At the end of the bowl, the everpresent talus reasserts itself and I hop across some to the uppper reashes, examining the various low points in the rim to the southeast. Several look like easy sand slogs, and University peak is not far away. But as usual, since I'm by myself I decide to turn back. I eat my lunch and look around, then get out my sat phone and verify that I can indeed make a phone call.
(In the photo above, University Peak summit is visible peaking above the ridge left of center.)
Then back. I forget my elapsed time.
Day 8
I decided I would make a real effort to reach Bradley with the other (slow) Challengers. Howcver even the slow ones left me behind as we climbed up the Robinson Lake trail from the Kersarge Pass trailhead. By the time I got to Robinson Lake, there was no sight of anyone, and it took a while to find where the use trail wound it's way through the talus.
It was actually better this way. Finding one's own way instead of staring at the boots of the person in front is the way the mountains should be experienced anyway. After 2 and 1/2 hours I came in view of what I expected was University Pass, and I sat to watch if anyone went over.
I didn't see a soul, and after 45 minutes, turned and went back to the TH.
Day 9
Like the tomcat said to the female porcupine, I'd had just about as much fun as I could stand.
So I headed home.
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