Excelsior and Canyon Ridges

On Saturday I volunteered with the Washington Trails Association to work on the Canyon Ridge Trail up by Mount Baker. I’ve never been here before. Our mission was to be safe, have fun, and repair a trail damaged by an avalanche. We got a lot done, but we also had to go to war with biting flies. Keep moving. It’s interesting who shows up for these work parties—there was a high school student fulfilling his culminating project responsibility, an unemployed Glacier 19 year old trying to get on with the Forest Service, a few 9 to 5ers, a foster parent with some kids, and an ultrarunner. I’ve written this before, but I think the world of WTA, and am a member—check them out at http://www.wta.org/. Trail reports are free.
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After the work party, I wanted to check out the area some more, while getting some high trail miles in. So, I ran/hiked to the tiny Damfino Lakes, up to Excelsior Ridge, and then over High Divide towards Welcome Pass. The guide books rate this one as easy, particularly from the Damfino Lakes side, where I started. There are loop trail possibilities. Excelsior Ridge caps out at about 6000 feet, but most of the gains for me were on the drive in—a 14.6 miles and 40 minute drive on a dicey road. The trail itself is very runnable and quite worthy. Ups and downs on a ridge above tree line. Wildflowers everywhere. A sea of mountains and ridges in view, with Baker and Shuksan in the foreground. This would be great place to catch a sunset. I stayed in the hills all day, but finally got chased off the high ridge by an approaching lightning storm, pretty rare around these parts. I had to hurry off—the storm moved in quick.
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Wildflowers---these were the real story of the day for me. Maybe the best I’ve ever seen, with just about all types representing. Lupines, tiger lilies, columbine, paintbrush, heather, thistles….I’ll pretend like I know what I was seeing. Not really--I’m botanically challenged. Every year I seem to forget and then have to go up high to re-learn. Some challenges are worth a lifetime of trying. Click on a field photo--they jump out more in the photos when blown up.
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Driving home, I happened upon a grand opening festival for a new artist’s co-op in Glacier Washington. Good music, coffee, and an old train car full of “Glacier Creations.” I’m partial to good coffee, art, and banjos. I did miss not doing White River, which was Saturday. I’m sure it was great. Just not the right weekend for me.
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Ptarmigan Ridge

I left the office early on Friday and headed up to Artist Point, above the Mount Baker ski area. Artist Point opened very early this year due to the good weather we've been having. It was evening, but I got a chance to hike out to Ptarmigan Ridge and a bit of the Chain Lakes trail. This is a spectacular location, as gorgeous as anywhere. I pretended to run, but I didn't have it. The Chain Lakes loop would make a great run. I haven't had it all week--I've felt a bit off/ill since coming back from the Rockies. I think it's part fatigue from last weekend's effort, but more the switch in altitude again.
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I was often reminded of the North Cascades when I was in Colorado. We have more snow and glaciers, even if we're several thousand feet lower. Also, the occasional volcano. Otherwise, many of the high elevation valleys looked similar. I spotted 30 goats on Friday about a half mile away coming back on Ptarmigan Ridge. I think I've seen them there before, but its been a few years. Hike about a half mile in, before the trail junction for the Ridge and Chain Lakes, and look to the left across the valley on the hillsides. They looked like snow patches at first. I think they're regulars.
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I'm doubtful for White River, unless I get inspired mid-week. In fact, I'm not sure how my running is going to go over the next month, as I have several weekend things, but Cascade Crest is looming out there, and I'd like to finish that one. But, I need balance, not burn out--just chill, I suppose. I'm thinking of possibly doing Devil's Dome-42 miles--in the North Cascades in a couple weeks, or maybe Stormy up in Squamish. I also have to fit trail work in the next few weekends.

Junction

Mount Shuksan

HRDNF

I didn’t finish Hardrock. It just plain sucks, especially with it being such an anticipated event. I only made it to Grouse Gulch, mile 42. Wimp. I got there at midnight, zombie dead, having been a little lost and spacey coming off the 14k Handies Peak and 13k American Basin, not to mention all the other high points previous to these. I couldn’t eat anything--I felt deathly ill, unmotivated, and yes, short on good cheer. Pulling out was legit, considering the next aid station for doing so was 16 miles off, I was flailing, two hours behind the published 48 hour pace, and I felt like I was a health risk.
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So of course now I’m home and going through all sorts of second guessing. Probably natural, and admittedly, it's easy to lose track of how pathetic I actually felt in the moment. Still, I now think I could’ve rallied. At least I’d like to think I could’ve. Though behind the published 48 hour pace, I was still two hours ahead of the cutoff, and a few others finished who arrived later at Grouse. I think I just had a human moment, and although truly wasted, I think the right motivation could've got me going. In short, I could’ve wanted it more. It sucks to say that, but I know I had way too many anxieties about this race beforehand, because I really did want it, to the point that I wasn't enjoying or anticipating the race in the same way that I have with the other 100s I've done.
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I just didn't know what I was getting into--it was just stress, stress, stress--way disproportionate to what it should've been in the grand scheme of things. There was altitude, weather, navigation, agoraphobia, fitness, socks, shoes, poles or no poles, attack marmots. By the time the gun sounded, I just wanted to get it over with, which is not a winning mental posture when you actually hit the wall with such a difficult race. I think for 100s you have to make the decision before the gun goes that nothing--nothing--is going to stop you, and yes, that can end up making things a bit crazy, but that's the nature of the beast.
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Now that I have a better feel for Hardrock, I wish I wish I wish I had figured me out. I didn’t. So, as one friend said, I have “unfinished business.” I like that. I’ll finish this one eventually, though it may take me a few years to get back in. When I do, it'll probably be miserable conditions--unlike last weekend--but still, I'll figure it out. Unless I give up this whole ultra thing in the meantime, and take up another hobby, like model airplanes or stamps. I don't really think that will happen--I'll be back. (That's a quote from The Terminator, in case you never saw it.)
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The event itself was incredible, and the trip was a sweet vacation. I did in fact catch 42 miles of one of the toughest and most beautiful courses out there, and I also got out on other portions of the course, like Virginius Pass (above and below) and the cliffs above Ouray (below). I suspect the elevation for the portion I did averaged 12k. Make no mistake--this is indeed a very very hard race---I was wheezing frequently, walking much of the time, with wet feet from the streams. There were cliffs with hundred foot falls. There were creek crossings. There was the Continental Divide Trail. There were marmots, lightning in the high mountain valleys, and the best wildflowers I’ve ever seen. This is a one of a kind experience.
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I showed up a week early to acclimate. The race more or less took over the small town of Silverton, with runners everywhere. Acclimating includes movie night, trail marking parties, and scouting trips. There was one very awful evening at 11k feet in a six dollar tube tent. Elk burgers. Fake gun fights. A 1800s style parade, and the best fireworks I’ve ever seen on the fourth of July. Things that go boom. I met all sorts of most excellent people, some runners, and some not. The race organization was a marvel. All in all, it was a great time, and a world class vacation, at least to my tastes. My camera isn’t working so well--it has a glare thing going on---but here are a few photos.

"Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go." - T.S. Eliot

Every day is a gift.

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