As in past years, I write up mini reports when the trip is modest or I don't have time for a full-blown expose.
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I haven't been on ice since last March and my New Year's resolution is "Climb More". Thus I jumped at the chance for some mellow ice cragging with the Stupid Brutes. We headed up to Clear Creek Canyon to Coors Light, a series of short falls a mellow quarter mile from the car. Fabio, Scott and I headed up first to set top ropes on some routes. Eventually, we were joined by Andy, Jeff, Brian and Eric. We set two ropes on the upper falls; a 25' vertical cascade with two pillars, and a single rope on the long, three-tiered lower falls. Temperatures were mild and the ice was nicely plastic. Picks went in without much trouble and the ice, though hacked up pretty well, was fat enough for newbs like me.
I've been slowly working up the nerve to try my first ice lead but have been stymied by changing gear and unoptimized systems. My "new" bent shaft Black Prophets performed wonderfully, but the BD leashes I was using were really getting in the way. After one climb, I took them off and tried the leashless thing--wonderful! It's a bit harder on the arms, but at the level I'm likely to be climbing, that shouldn't be much of a problem. I'll have to come up with some sort of tether system before climbing anything big and/or committing (a dropped axe would be disasterous), but it was much more natural than having to mess with wrist leashes all the time.
After making four laps on the upper falls, we wandered down to the lower falls and tried that. I did a mock lead (placing screws on top rope) and feel pretty confident that I could now lead that route. Next time! For now, it was great to get out for a casual and productive day of ice climbing with a bunch of convivial folks. By noon, the ice was gushing with water from screw holes and melting, so we packed up and headed for Neptunes and Southern Sun.
I've got an ambitious race schedule in the first half of 2008. The San Juan Solstice 50 miler is clearly the biggie, but that's not until June. Plenty of time to train for that one later. The one that's got me nervous at the moment is the Moab Red Hot 50k race in mid-February. Back in the shape I was in last summer, such a run wouldn't have been that big a deal. But it's winter and I haven't trained nearly enough. Nor have I ever run that kind of distance before (34 miles).
Fortunately, a lot of us Special Idiots are running this race, so there is lots of interest in training. During the month of January, I got in weekly 20+ mile training runs. First up, fresh off most of a week at Sea Level, was a beautiful 21 mile group run at the great Devil's Backbone Open Space from Loveland to Ft. Collins and back. We had 13 people show up including a number of people I'd never met and some old friends from last season. The trail was pretty rough in places, but mostly clear of snow and ice and quite interesting throughout. For January, I felt pretty good, but I was pretty hammered by the time I got back to the car.
The next week, I embarked on a solo run at Teller Farm with an additional loop on the north end. Peter joined me for the first hour and his company was greatly appreciated. I spent the second and third hours running solo training for speed and distance. Total distance was 19.8 miles in just over three hours; a very fast pace for me for that long.
Finally was the big, double-long run, back up at Devil's Backbone. This time it felt a good deal better. We reached the Soderberg TH at mile 10.5 and had a refuel break at Alex's car (thanks!). Then we did a quick climb up Tower Road (1700' of climb in 3.5 miles) which reminded me that my elevation training hasn't been keeping up with my distance training. Finally, we headed back south with a detour over to Coyote Ridge. The last six miles were pretty much a death march and I arrived, solo, at the car totally depleted. Total elapsed was 30.7 miles in about seven hours.
With three weeks to go until Moab, I'll take it easier for a while and let the legs recover. I've run over 120 miles this month which is my second highest (barely!) monthly total in my two years of running. I'm pretty sure I can now handle the distance under race conditions, but it's still going to be a long time on the feet. As for the 50 miler in June... we'll have to see about that.
Unleash the Chicken!
Ice Climbing at Coors Light, Clear Creek Canyon
January 5, 2008
Jeff starts up the lower falls with the infamous Chicken Screamer (tm)
Myself climbing the lower falls. Photo by Scott Borger
Lots of Running
January 13, 20, and 27, 2008
Chris runs the first mile of trail at the impressive Devil's Backbone.
Clem, Pete, and the rest of the crew running along at mile 6.
Climbing Estes Cone
February 2, 2008
Eric at Moore Park making for Estes Cone 1200' above. |
From the mine, the trail was unbroken, but there was clearly a packed trail under the new snow. We hiked half a mile to Moore Park, then turned sharply left and made a bee-line through the trees for Storm Pass. Somewhere in there, we regained the trail and made steady progress up to Granite Pass at 10,240'. The trail from the pass to the summit was quite steep... and entirely absent in many places. Eventually, I gave up trying to follow faint signs of snowed-over trail and just struck out on the most likely looking lines myself. The snow varied from hard and shallow to deep and drifted and going was quite slow. About half way up, the number of rocks poking through the snow prompted us to stash the snowshoes and continue on foot. The rocky NW ridge was quite steep here and we spent a great deal of effort climbing snow-covered talus to a series of rocky knobs. Eventually, the slope eased and we slogged over to the highest knob... only to find that it wasn't the highest after all. The trail became apparent here and we followed a set of cairns through scattered, wind-blasted trees and up a short gully to the true summit.
Unfortunately, the weather had gone from passably nice to ominously bleak in the hours since we left the trailhead. The high peaks were now obscured and the wind had come up laden with light snow. We had a quick snack on the summit, before making our careful way back down to the snowshoes. Once we got back on the packed trail (packed by us on the way up), the retreat back to the car was easy enough. Still, it was a surprisingly tough climb and long day for only 7 miles of trail. Regardless, it was very nice to get out into the mountains for the first time in months.
Back in the Saddle
Biking Heil Ranch
March 15, 2008
Kevin rides the Wapiti Trail old school. Check out that sweet horn! |
Eric cruises the "zippy" Wild Turkey Trail. |
From here, we took the new Wild Turkey Trail which makes a longer loop than simply returning on the other half of Ponderosa. The first half mile or so is fabulous smooth dirt trail zipping between trees like that scene from Return of the Jedi. Awesome! Even after that, it became technically much harder, but was still narrow and "zippy" without so many of the loose rocks found elsewhere in Heil. Moderate downhill gave way to another uphill slog.
Back at the junction, we steeled ourselves for the downhill run. It wasn't bad and II marveled at the difference even front shocks made. We reached the road part way down and Eric performed his first endo, landing unhurt amidst a nice little rock garden. Kevin, sans suspension, was getting hammered by the rocks and elected to take the road out. Despite his fall, Eric continued with me on the lower part of Wapiti. We met up with Kevin again at the road and all reached the cars shortly thereafter.
It was a great day of riding. I'd forgotten how much fun and how difficult it can be.
A major Brute Stupidity expedition was planned for Vedauwoo. Fabio and I drove up for Saturday only, but many others were camping and climbing both days. Strangely, I was the most experienced Voo-climber going, so a lot of the planning fell on my relatively narrow shoulders. There was still quite a bit of snow in the shady areas, but the sun was hot and the rock pretty warm except in the deepest chimneys. Fabio and I showed up at 8:30 and met up with Scott, Rebecca, and Dan, heading to the sunny side of the Nautilus since it was close to the road, easy to find, and had an array of interesting climbs. We started by doing laps on the Etude slab (5.5) as the rest of the crew trickled in; Andy, Brian, Jeff & Dyan, Mike & Rachel, Cushman, and assorted offspring. With Andy belaying, Dan had himself an epic on the fiercely overhanging fist crack Flying Buttress (5.10b) while Fabio got stymied by the off-width crux of Stepladder (5.6).
After a quick lunch, the family-sorts headed out to set up camp and the climbers headed over to the NW side. We set up shop at Cornelius (5.5) where several people did leads of the excellant finger crack. No trip to the Voo would be complete without some off-width. Andy tackled Easy Jam (5.4) and several others did laps on it as well. Dan had himself another epic, this time on Hair Lip (5.9+), making it past the first rap station, but chickening out before reaching the official top of the route. Much to the surprise of all, I managed to thrash my way up to the first anchor to clean Dan's gear. It was a very physical climb requiring actual crack climbing skills, neither of which I have in abundance at the moment. Struggling upward, I realized that finishing the route would probably end my chances of climbing anything else for about a week. On the other hand, failing would probably result in the same outcome, so I might as well fight my way through it.
Tired from our route, Dan and I circumnavigated the Nautilus formation spying out nice-looking lines and then getting mired in the deep drifts on the north, shady side of the crag. By 4:30, we were all pretty tired. The gates were closed and the road to the main area blocked by extensive snow drifts. But we'd driven two hours each way, so the seven of us hiked in to see Walt's Wall and the other main features of the 'Voo. Dan, eager to not have an epic on something, scampered up the famous Edward's Crack (5.7) running out both pitches into one 70 meter push with about five pieces of gear. After some trepidation, Brian scampered up it and finished with a huge grin on his face. We then trudged back to the car and stopped by camp where the rest of the folks had established a homey presence.
It was tough to leave for the drive back, but leave we did, content in the knowledge that it had been a good, social day at the crags. I had a chance to tie in with some new folks and introduce a new batch of climbers to that unique style of climbing found at Vedauwoo.
Please see full trip report.
Another typical June weekend and another choice between a long trail run, an alpine climb, or a ski trip. What?! You heard me, a ski trip. How could I pass up an offer like that? Backcountry skiing is something I've been kicking around for a while, but keep deciding not to take up. The gear is more expensive than I can really justify for a couple days of fun a year and I'm not really a good enough skier to do anything but glorified cross-country skiing anyway.
Early Season at the 'Voo
Vedauwoo, WY
April 19, 2008
An Epic Averted
Running on the Colorado Trail
May 10, 2008
Ski Now, Pay Later
Spring Skiing in RMNP
June 14, 2008
Ski Now. Bryan carves it up on Sundance. |
The problem with Sundance is that it gets steeper the farther down you go so you can never see very far up or down the slope. Also the terrain gets steeper just as the snow is getting softer. However, the bigger problem is that your car is parked up above and you've got to hoof it up hill, toting skis, after every run, no exceptions. Ski now, pay later. The first run was wonderful. The snow up top was a bit icy, but I mustered what little technique I have and was soon enjoying sweeping turns on blue-equivalent terrain. We stopped often to take pictures of each other and the fantastic scenery. Lower down it started to get a little wiggy. The snow was getting pretty soft and the slope really steep; solid black diamond terrain for me. It's the kind of thing I could get down, but it's not much fun and I'd only have to hike back up anyway so what's the point?
Pay Later. Eric and Chris trudging up after our second run. |
Impressive crags on the north side of Sundance Mountain. |
There was still no sign of Kevin. Hopefully he hadn't plunged down to the bottom, gotten lost, or eaten by marmots or something. As I finally, sorely, reached the top again (ski boots really aren't made for this kind of thing!), there was Kevin, notably missing both skis and boots. It turns out he's strapped boots and skis to his pack and changed into hiking boots for the trip up. Somewhere in there, the skis had popped off and gone rocketing down the slopes to lodge in a group of rocks a few hundred feet below. Figuring that there was a decent chance he might do the same if he tried to downclimb, Kevin declared them a loss and kept climbing.
It's a shame about the skis, but they were pretty ancient. "At least they had a memorable last run," Kevin remarked. Grateful to be out of ski boots, we hiked back to the cars, then up the nearby Sundance Mountain to check out the dramatic couloirs and rocky fins on its north face. If the snow climbing is as easy-access as the skiing, I'll have to make a return trip one of these days.
All in all, it was a fine and novel mountain adventure.
Please see full trip report
An Alpine Trifecta
Mts. Chapin, Chiquita, and Ypsilon in RMNP
July 12, 2008
Coal Creek Crossing 10 miler
August 31, 2008
Matt (#3), Chai (#1) and myself (#53) after the race. |
It's always surprising to see 100+ runners turn out in the early morning for a small, local race like this. Louisville is a much bigger place than it feels and, being so close to Boulder, there are plenty of very active people. I met up with Chai and his coworker Matt at the start and we milled around for a while before the start. When the gun finally went off, we started at a good pace, running past the community park and then doing a 5k loop through the Warmeborg Open Space just south of my house. The course was mostly the crushed gravel of the Coal Creek Trail with occasional pavement stretches, well marked with mile-posts and numerous volunteers and water stops. I ran at an 8:10 pace for the first three miles (much faster than my usual 9+ plod), and wondered if I could maintain it for another seven miles on the out-and-back part of the course. It was quite a contrast to my last race
Things really opened up after a couple miles and, despite being in the middle of the pack, I was pretty much running by myself, occasionally reeling in and passing someone. At mile 6, the front-runners started passing me headed the other direction (the turnaround was at mile 6.5). To my limited surprise, Chai was flying along in second and breathing down the neck of the number one guy. I reached the turnaround and started back, sweating profusely and passing the half of the runners who were slower than my pace. Back up over the Aquarius hill with its spectacular view of the mountains and a fleet of hot air balloons launched from Boulder and drifting east. 1.5 miles to go. Feeling pretty fatigued, but still managing an 8:05 pace. Down the hill, one mile to go, time to hammer. I passed a few more people, then ran the last hundred yards at an all-out sprint. 1:20:45, 53rd place out of 128 starters. Not bad for a guy with a two-week-old kid whos run all of fifty miles in the last month.
Despite nearly not turning out, and then some serious pre-race sandbagging, Chai ended up winning the whole shooting match in 1:03:57. Not bad, sir! It was a nice race, very well organized with great volunteers. Plus it was really great to get out of the house and back to a somewhat-active lifestyle!
Now that baby Joe is a month old, things are stable enough on the home front that I felt I could sneak away for a half day of mountain running. I started at the southern Sourdough Trailhead at 9000' and headed up the road to Niwot Ridge and the CU Alpine Research Station (11,500'), uncharted territory for me. The road was pretty easy to follow as it wound through sunny forest with occasional views of the forbidden Boulder Watershed to the south.
The snow started at about 11,000', but was mostly slushy and melting fast in the warm September sun. Above treeline, I left the road and headed cross-country for the ill-defined saddle between Niwot Ridge and Niwot Mountain (which is really one long rising ridge anyway). The views were great in all directions and it felt wonderful to be out running in the mountains one last time before the snow really shut things down for another nine months. After a bit of work, I located the trail north and down toward Long Lake and finally started running in earnest.
One Last Mountain Run
September 13, 2008
Fabulous views of Long and Brainard Lakes from the flanks of Niwot Ridge. |
The startlingly drained Lake Isabelle. |
Finally things started to improve in the last few miles of Sourdough. The scenery was still spectacular and I had the woods pretty much to myself. I've definitely lost whatever conditioning I had in three months of relative inactivity. Three months ago, this run would have been totally trivial, a couple thousand feet of gain, ankle deep snow, a score of miles... but now... wow! Still, it was definitely good for the soul to get out and see the mountains again. 19 miles with 3500' of elevation gain in 5:30.
Some of my running buddies from Fort Collins were running the new Blue Sky Marathon, and by running, I mean spending hundreds of hours recruiting the sponsors, setting the course, and dealing with all the hassels inherent in organizing a local race. Probably actually running the race would have been a lot easier. I'm in no shape for a marathon right now, but they were in need of volunteers to help along the course, so why not? Speaking of which, the course wound around through the Devils Backbone open space between Loveland and Ft. Collins, an area I've run in before.
Several other volunteers and I met up at the Devil's Backbone TH outside Loveland at 7am and received our assignments. I'd be helping out Pete at the Marathon turnaround point at the south end of the Hunter Loop, about 1.5 miles in from the TH. Other volunteers would serve as course marshalls at trail junctions. Shortly before the lead runners were expected, we experienced radio trouble, so I got to play runner boy shuttling radios back and forth between volunteers.
Over the course of three hours, the runners came through the turnaround and headed for home. By 11am, the last runner came through and Pete and I started clearing the course, pulling pink flags and ribbon from the course. Having two people do this was essential as we could get both sides of the various loops without having to run extra distance. We picked up Eric in there somewhere and ran together north toward the finish line, trying not to dog the heels of the last racers.
Eventually we split up with Pete staying at one of the midway aid stations to help disassemble, while Eric and I spead on to the finish line. As I said, I'm not in the same shape I used to be, and I was very glad to roll into the Horsetooth area finish line after 13+ miles of rough trail. I helped myself to some post-race vittles and hung around until the last of the runners came through. It was a good day out on the trails and appears to have been a fantastic race. Good for Eric, Pete, Alex, and the rest of the crew for putting all their effort into it.
It's been a very long time since I last climbed anything and my climbing stats for the year are pitiful. So in honor of our respective 36th birthdays, cognizant of the fact that we'd now been "adults" as long as we were ever kids, Eric and I played hooky from work to swing leads on a long and mellow rock climb. The weather was gorgeous as we hiked up the trail to the First Flatiron. I've climbed the First four times before, once by the Standard Route (5.6) and three times by the lovely Fandango (5.5). This time we tackled the former again, ten pitches with two distinct cruxes and a lot easy terrain in between.
Blue Sky Marathon
October 5, 2008
The spectacular Devils Backbone from the marathon turnaround point
Eric, Pete and I having a little too much fun with the pink course-marking flags
Birthday Climbing Extravaganza
October 29, 2008
Eric finishes P2 on a lovely fall day |
Relaxing after the climb. |
At the very end of my rope, in more ways than one, I finally got in some good gear and set up a belay. Eric came up, took over the lead for P3 through steeper but much more featured terrain. P4 was more of the same, but easier and I ran it out to the huge ledge half way up the face.
The day was lovely and warm and we had the rock essentially to ourselves. We were feeling mellow and the idea of another 5-6 pitches to the summit wasn't all that appealing. Instead of tackling the second crux pitch, Eric took us up to the Baker's Way ramp to the ridgeline. My memory was correct; there is a rap station there. After taking in the fabulous views of the Divide, we rapped out to the wild back side of the rock and hiked back around to the base.
It was a great day in the sun on the rock. I am reminded of the full mental landscape that is climbing. It is also really nice that Eric has totally come into his own and we can now climb together sharing the lead burden.
Chris and I had planned to head up to Middle St. Vrain in the Indian Peaks for an XC ski tour but both of us felt like death in the morning and canceled. High winds down in town and reported 65 mph gusts up in the mountains didn't add to the allure of suffering in the high country.
After moping around the house all morning, I realized I could be miserable at home or I could be miserable in the mountains and made the correct choice. Instead of making the long drive all the way to Peaceful Valley, I headed to Nederland and thence to Eldora (the town, not the ski area) with the idea of skiing the popular Hessie trail to Lost Lake. This is something I've snowshoed, hiked, and run many times before, so it's a well-known area to me. Furthermore, it is varied and interesting terrain to really test out my "backcountry" skis; a set of Choinard Telemarks (thus at least 20 years old) with three-pin bindings paired with a pair of soft, low-top leather boots my neighbor was getting rid of. (Yes, I'm a dirtbag.)
To my surprise, the wind wasn't bad and it was very warm and sunny. The first 1.5 miles on the road was irritating as always, but less annoying than moping around home. Snow cover was a bit thin in spots, but completely packed down by the three thousand snowshoers out for the day. The big climb around the meadow was about at the steepest my fish-scaled, skin-less skis could handle, but I made it up with only a minimum of side-stepping and herring-boning. So far so good. The glades above the meadow were lovely and I made good time, enjoying myself immensely.
Instead of heading to Lost Lake (which is a steep, narrow trail undoubtedly clogged with hazards to my less-than-graceful navigation), I kept going and took the second left for King Lake and Rollins Pass. In the trees here, the snow was very deep and only tracked with a snowshoe "trench" about a foot deep and wide. I encountered a few climbs steeper than my skis could handle straight-on and had to do a lot of pole work and herringboning. There was no obvious place to quit, so I kept going until I reached about 10k (and my turn-around time), before turning around and headed for home.
The trip down was fantastic! I've been XC skiing on waxed, wooden skis so old-school that the text is Finnish ("toppen tur let"!) all my life and downhill control is usually a matter of picking the right spot to fall down. My new-fangled skis from the 1980s are a step up in that they have metal edges, but that's about it. Skiing down the trench was easy and exhilarating and I hit speeds of 15 mph in the final swoop down to the meadows. Back on the main Lost Lake trail, I kept the speed up and discovered I could actually use the edges for snowplowing and "hockey-stopping". Sweet! Not nearly the control of a proper Alpine or Randonee rig and I don't know a Telemark turn from a hole in the ground, but I kept pretty good control on the way down, only falling a couple of times and only having to remove my skis once to get through a patch of large rocks. The lower sections were most exciting when the snow was the most packed and there were the most rocks. Rocketing past the land tuna was most satisfying. Even the "flats" turned out to be pretty good downhill slopes when you added in the strong tail wind.
In all, it took 1:40 to go 3.5 miles and climb 1100'. The descent took all of 40 minutes! It was a great experience and I look forward to more. I realize that this is not proper backcountry skiing, but it beats the hell out of snowshoeing such an easy trail! I'm converted.
Skiing at Hessie
December 28, 2008
The Wilderness Journal
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