Best of 2010

Lots of trails traveled this year. Basically, the first half of the year was filled with great prep for Western. Then I got injured in New Mexico, and from then focused on getting on trails and didn’t worry about races. I probably spent more time in the mountains this year than any I can remember. And then, in November, on impulse I snuck off to Kaua’i, a place I’ve wanted to hike/run for a long long time.

So, here’s the Officially Certified Top 10 List of Trails I hit in 2010, with links and copious notes. The actual rankings are pretty immaterial, non-scientific, and just offhand impressions. Serious. It's like going to the County Fair, and griping about eating the third place pie. It's all good, though pecan is best.

And, finally, before hitting the list-- THANK YOU FRIENDS FOR ALL THE GOOD TIMES! I truly know some wonderful people.

Anyway, here it goes:

10. Alaka’i Swamp Trail. Kauai’s highcountry rain forest in the Kokee’ State Park felt like the set for the original Land of the Lost show, starring Michael Landon. Permamist, exotic birds, boardwalks, a peak at the headwaters of Waimea Canyon, the “Grand Canyon of the Pacific.” Quite amazing. The swamp trail, which is actually an old caldera at about 4500 feet up, is very quiet and filled with endangered plants and birds—half a world away, and a conservation inspiration.

9. Chuckanut 50k. Not many races will make my list this year, mainly because I made it to so many other cool trails. However, C-nut was special this year for me, as I pr’ed in my fifth running, and finished the last six miles in step with friend Rich. Good weather, excellent event, good day.

8. Sahale Arm, North Cascades NP. Listing this North Cascades trail is sort of cheating, because I went up to Sahale Arm *three* times this summer, and truly watched the change of the season. I think I saw four bears on one visit. The running was minimal, because it is steep beyond Casade Pass, getting up to almost 8000 feet. Sahale Arm makes the list, because it is one of those spectacular places. It is featured in “50 Best Hikes In The World” and was Harvey Manning’s favorite. Thanks Mike for the day you got up there with me—probably the best of the batch, with the snow and clearing clouds.

7. Mowich Loop, Mount Rainier NP. We didn’t have good weather, but climbing Tolmie Peak, circling out to the Carbon Glacier, traversing Spray Park and a Wonderland Trail section—this trail/loop would be good in any conditions. Some of the best wildflower displays I’ve ever seen. Rich and Linda led, and were kindly patient with my injury which slowed me down.

6. Western States DNS. It’s my list, so I can include a DNS. So much of the first half of my year was buildup for Western States, THE Western States. And I was ready, running as well as I had in the last few years. But then I injured my lower back, bad. And so I had to wrestle with whether to run injured or not. Very stressful and an educational life experience. Six months later, I still feel I made the right call in not running, and am happy with the way I handled the whole thing.

5. Sourdough Loop. Sourdough Mountain in the North Cascades above Ross Lake is a special place. It has been the home of poets like Gary Snyder, the great naturalist. I’ve been up the mountain many times, but this year was the first time I made a loop of the hike/run, coming down the Ross Lake side. Early in the year, it felt like we were some of the first of the year near the top.

4. Diez Vista 50k. Just a really fun daytrip up to Canada with Rich to run one of the older 50ks around, which had been on my mind for several years. The course is beautiful, with water island views similar to Orcas, and crazy root hopping early on. A non-impressive effort on my part—I was a dumb American--but fun times with friends. Great job by the RDs.

3. Jemez 50 miler. I’m proud to have hung in there on this spooky 50 miler in New Mexico. I’ll most remember the spooky sound of the wind through the burned forest as the sun set. And that I injured myself pretty bad making the 12 hour cutoff, but I made it. Good times with BJ, Thomas, Mike, and Fran. High altitude, great organization. 64% finisher rate.

2. Stehekin. Stehekin was another one of those places I’ve always wanted to go to, and finally did. About 36 miles on the Pacific Crest Trail with a bakery stop and bus ride in the middle.

1. Kalalau Trail. Kauai’s Kalalau Trail is world famous, for its beauty and its hazard. It’s been on my wish list for years and did not disappoint.

A good list. I’m happy with the year, overall, and very much so from a trailrunning perspective. So many things did not make this list. The Maha’alepu Coast in Kauai, including the lithified sand dunes, the sacred haena, and Captain Cook’s first point of contact. The perfect Teddy Bear Cove Run in January, when the weather was just right, the islands there to the left, and the hour away from work so needed. Yellow Astor Butte. Floating the Potomac in the summer, and the Skagit River eagle float last New Year’s Day. Has it been a year already?!!  Easy Pass-Colonial Creek, twice! And then, so many amazing favorite races, like Lost Lake, Baker Lake, Sunflower, Orcas, and Seattle. Nightswimming in Virginia’s summer heatwave, on the 4th of July, near family.

The bar is set high for next year. I imagine some good things will come up.

Ice Caves

The Ice Caves trail is off the Mountain Loop Highway, east of Granite Falls. Significant blowdowns midway in, with snow not too deep. A very popular trail in the summer, and potentially hazardous due to falling rock and ice. I'm not sure how far--a few hours in the snow.

Here are a few pics. Based on forecasts and reports, there's a whole lot more snow up there now then there was on Sunday. The Mountain Loop Highway is definitely a place worthy of further exploration. I'm thinking maybe a snowshoe trip or two is in order this winter.

Christmas was good, but short. Family time in Kirkland, with a memorable egg nog pie. I've caught a frustrating cold, but am considering jogging the Last Chance on Friday, if work and health allow. If not, oh well.

As I wrote the word "jog", I thought--people don't use the term jogger too much anymore, except with kid joggers.  Maybe next year I'm going to be a jogger. A super jogger.

Holiday Preparations

I bought a wreath this year. That's big for me. The cards are mailed. My family on the east coast is covered, and the west coasters are pretty much too. A few stray this and that's left to tend to, but I'm doing ok with my holiday preparations this year.

So, I didn't run hard this weekend. And I know others did--you are awesome. I made it up Chinscraper on Saturday, but that's no big deal. As much as anything, I enjoyed driving down Chuckanut with a grande half-decaf, checking out the snow geese. Windy and overcast, it was a typical December morning in northwest Washington. 

I have a tight hamstring/groin muscle thing, maybe the result of a track workout. I took it easy. Being out all day wasn't in the cards this weekend, with so many things to do. That's fine--I'm at this point where I'm striving for balance with my running. After being gone all last weekend, I needed to stay home and take care of things--that seems to keep my mind at ease.

This is a fun time of year to be thinking about next year. Lotteries require early planning, and lots of my ultra friends and I are chattering. I think I'm leaning towards putting in for the Wasatch lottery. Or maybe Superior trail or Cascade. I just wrote those now to try them on for size--we'll see. It has to sound right and get me excited and motivated. I've started a calendar to the right.

I'm also thinking about taking a mountaineering class with the Skagit Alpine Club, if my schedule allows. And I think I'll run something in Virginia and see my fam--I already have a trip planned in early April, which happens to be when the Bull Run Run is scheduled. That's just races too. I feel like this past year has been wonderful, as far as getting out there goes, but the very best trail highlights were not races.

Happy holidays!

Stewart Mountain XC Challenge

On Saturday, I ran the Stewart Mountain Ten Mile Cross Country Challenge on Vancouver Island at Thetis Lake Provincial Park. The Office decided to have its Christmas Party in Victoria this year. I had ideas of running the Juan De Fuca Trail, but then learned of this wonderful race, with its convenient 12 PM start time.

Stewart Mountain was a blast, largely because the course was flooded by recent rains, creating several knee-deep water crossings. Some of the splash zones went on for 10 or 20 meters. The feet were going to get wet, no matter what you did, and by the end of the race, I was running/wading right through the middle of each pool. It was a real crack-up.

The course is fast--relatively flat most of the time, with many short ups and downs. Almost all trail, mostly wide single track. There’s a sustained climb midway, up Stewart Mountain presumably, through moss covered rocks, with long views from the top, though they were limited by clouds on Saturday. After that, it’s a lot of slippery down, and then back through the water holes. The course finishes around beautiful Thetis Lake, with three small hills, as you look out at an island in the middle of the lake, and hear and see the finish line across the way.

I ran the first half kind of slow, warming up and taking pictures, and then picked things up a bit in the second half. I probably could’ve pushed harder and gotten a bit better overall time, as well as a tougher workout, but I didn't want to rush through the park too much. This was only my second time on the Island, and I get distracted by stuff. The trails struck me as similar to those out in Anacortes. I think the course would make a great 50k, just by extending it two more laps. But it's a great long-speed workout as is.

The volunteers were terrific and out in force—marshals all over the course. And special thanks to the RD Bob, who was kind enough to save me one of the limited tech shirts. There are lots of fast people on the Island—I understand a lot of triathletes call Victoria home. The local running club, the Prairie Inn Harriers, puts the  race on, as the third and longest race of their end of the year cross-country series.

Afterwards, it was off to wander Victoria. The Parliament Building is lighted up. Pineapple Express type rains kind of detracted from the visit, but I was able to get the lay of the land, and have a nice dinner. Stayed the night, and returned by the Sydney-Anacortes ferry, which is an absolutely gorgeous tour of the islands. I liked Sydney. And I liked clearing immigration in Skagit County, rather than waiting forever at Blaine.

"Louisiana Woman Mississippi Man" with Loretta Lynn and Conway Twitty on the radio. Love the Sunday Night Classic Country show. Getting ready for the week to come.

Picasso in Seattle

There is a once-in-a-lifetime Picasso Exhibit showing right now at the Seattle Art Museum. The Picasso Museum in France is undergoing rennovations. The French decided to let his works go on tour, and Seattle was very fortunate to land a spot. I happened to be in Seattle for work this week, and with a little time between meetings, I suddenly found myself able to check it out. 

I was impressed that Picasso was always pushing the limits of the norms on painting. You pick this up, walking through the various periods of his life's paintings. He seems very professorial about his work, consciously challenging norms, constantly reaffirming that he makes the rules about painting, not past masters, but with respect. And he was always mixing women and work. I found myself ambivalent about any number of paintings, and then one would catch my attention for a while. Credit his genius. The exhibit is very worthwhile-I'm glad I went.

Each room had one of his quotes, posted high on the wall--I wrote a few down:

• "No pleasure without the taste of ashes."

• "Art is never chaste."

• "Painting is stronger than me. It makes me do what it wants."

• "When I paint I feel that all the artists of the past are behind me."

• "It takes a long time to become young."

The Picasso exhibit took me a little more than an hour, listening to many of the commentaries on the device they gave me. $23 full price. The pictures above and immediately below are Picassos. No pictures allowed, I found after snapping the second shot.

Afterwards, I did a quick spin around the rest of the museum. It's been a while. There are some wonderful paintings, particularly in the modern art category, including Rothkos, a Morris Graves, a Jackson Pollack. I was particularly happy to come across a painting called "Darrington Rain"-picture below--of Darrington, Washington in 1947 by Skagit County native Alden Mason. I did not know of this local painter, but a whole room was dedicated to his works, right near the Rothkos.

Fairhaven Frosty 10k

The GBRC Fairhaven Frosty 10k lived up to its namesake today, with frost on the benches, frost on the road, frost on the grass--frost everywhere. Perfectly clear skies, temps in the 30s. A good morning for running. A lot of the regulars from the GBRC and the Wednesday night track group showed up, either to run or volunteer. Always good to chatter. That second loop drags a bit. Love that Great Harvest Bread at the finish, that Tony's coffee afterwards, and that Apple Cup at the end of the day.

Thank you volunteers!

I ran poorly--my legs felt like dead weights. I had no circulation and extremely tight hamstrings. It seemed like I rarely could get anaerobic--the legs and stomach just wouldn't cooperate. I attribute this all to the cold, a slow recovery from last week's Seattle marathon, and unwisely eating at the Taco Truck last night. No big, but I would like to run a good 10k (by my standards) sometime in the next few months. So, I'm a little dissapointed that my bad days aren't better. But you have to get out there to find out these things, and a little bit of honest self-assessment is good for me.

OR...."maybe I should chug on over to Mamby-Pamby Land where I can find some self-confidence for me, you jack wagon." (It's a commercial, if you haven't heard it. Cracks me up.)

Seattle Marathon

This was a good year for the Seattle marathon. My eighth year in a row, tenth overall. I have told a couple people in the past week that I’m not sure why I do this event every year, but I just do. I wonder if other people have things like this. For me, it’s a bit of a measure of the aging process, a bit of a streak, and a bit of a window on northwest weather year in, year out. There have been rain years, semi-snow years, and some good years too. Traditions and rituals have their place--this seems to have become one of mine.

In the morning, the weather looked unsure of itself, with clouds above after a long night of rain. It was kind of cold at the start. But the conditions turned ideal—overcast, but about 40 degrees. Easy to click the miles off. I ran with my friend Keri, and we improved big upon the last time we ran a marathon together.

The shirt is good—dark blue. Lots of GU on the course. I think I noticed some new poison oak signs in Seward Park. So, more or less, same old, same old. And that is sometimes reassuring.

Lots of friends on the course, though I think more of my trail running friends are opting for the Ghost and other earlier week runs, with good reasons. I miss the Ivar’s clam chowder at the finish of Seattle. They should bring it back, and maybe have Jay Buhner or Chip Hanauer serve it. Yeah, the Seattle Marathon really could benefit from making the marathon more Seattle. Maybe get some salmon flavored gels on the course. Space Needle timing chips. A grunge band in Madison. The marathon should instill hometown pride.

Seattle should do more, especially for the price. My packet included an early bird entry form for next year--$75, to register 12 months in advance. Too high, and I find it somewhat puzzling that marathons raise prices in a down economy. I concede that I don't know all the inputs, but since I do this race annually, I have also noted the annual tradition of the price going up. Seattle is not alone, and by far not the most expensive, I know.

Not sure what’s up next, besides my couch and Sunday night football. December is sort of slow for ultras. I might be looking into an avalanche course, or a course on raptors. Maybe a Skagit float for eagles. I want to do some outdoor education.  And some cross country skiing and snowshoeing. And then there’s always the Frosty!

Kalalau Trail

The Kalalau Trail is on the north side of Kauai, along the Na Pali Coast. “Pali” means cliffs in Hawaiian. The trail is 11 miles long, climbing and dropping along the cliffs and fluted ridges, crossing five valleys, almost always directly above the ocean. The waves crashing below look big, in different hues of blue, and somewhat violent.

The Kalalau Valley, the endpoint of the trail, long ago used to be home to Hawaiians, who farmed the cliffs with terraces of taro, similar to as is done in Nepal. The difficulty of reaching the valley made it easily defended. The only access to the Kalalau Valley is by this trail, boat, or aircraft.

The full color spectrum is richly represented on the trail—lush green valleys, flowers, orange trees, black lava rock formations, red dirt, and the constant deep blue of the sea below. The Kalalau Valley would make a good nominee for an Eden Award, if there were such a thing.

Just about all the guidebooks say the out and back can’t be done in a day. I was skeptical, as it is only 22 miles roundtrip, and no matter what the terrain, I think most ultrarunners would agree that sounds doable. And yet…it was a bit disconcerting to not find many reports. I wasn’t really geared up for camping, and so it was going to be one day or a DNF turnaround.

Though it can be done in one day, based on my experience, I really suggest staying a night or more, and taking plenty of time to enjoy the trail and Kalalau Beach. I feel like I rushed it. The trail and beach evoke a spiritual type response. The area is reputed to be home to mystics, dropouts, and other people from the edges of society. It's just so beautiful that people want to stay.

So, here are the details of my Kalalau hike/run experience: 

I left Kapp’a at 4:30 AM, got coffee, and parked at the trailhead just before 6 AM. It was pitch dark. I got ready, and then waited until I could read my watch unaided. 6:19 AM. Very first light, first guy on the trail. I didn’t see anyone for the first couple hours. I made Kalalau Beach around 11:45 AM, and that included a wrong turn or two, and delays to figure out semi-technical stream crossings, because of recent rains. The streams are prone to flash floods. After about an hour kicking around the beach, I turned it around, and made it back to the trailhead around 4:51 PM. It turned dark again around 5:30.

Starting at first light was key to getting the whole thing done without a headlamp, though I did bring one. The Hawaiian day is very short in the winter—less than 12 hours. The terrain is tough, with much of the footing being on lava rocks, or on very narrow trail with cliff exposure. The trail is rarely flat, and it is frequently composed of catwalks, some of which are extreme. I imagine it's somewhere between 5000 and 7500 feet in climbing, but I didn't carry technology to figure it out.  It's impractical and unsafe to move fast all the time.

Overnight permits are required to go past Mile 6, even if just going out and back. They can be purchased on-line now. There weren’t a lot available when I applied, two weeks before my trip, so it’s a good thing I took care of this when I did.

On the way in, I took lots of pictures. It’s hard not to, and it's the curse of the limitless digital film card. Taking pics slowed me down a bit, but that's ok. The miles stretched and stretched. When I came to Mile 6, marked on a rock, I wondered if the 6 was a 9. And then the miles after that were the toughest, with some unbelievable sections. In particular, there is one section around Mile 7 on red rocks, pictured below, where I just said “No way!” when I first saw it.

I was concerned about leptospirosis, a waterborne illness I'd heard something about. I know that’s not leprosy (which does have a history in Hawaii), but it sort of sounds like it. As is so typical of me, instead of figuring it all out, I winged it and decided the night before to carry all my liquid. This plan blew. I ran out. The Hawaiian sun in early afternoon can be very tough, and even in the morning, humidity can make you sweat. I had some pretty bad leg cramps towards the end. At least I made it out alive.

I ran plenty on the way in, at a safe trot. I had a heavier pack than usual for running, but it was easy enough to jog down some of the ridges. Other parts are emphatically inappropriate for running, and even at a slow trot, it’s easy to catch a toe on a rock. On the way out, I did just that, sprawling all out and falling halfway off the trail, losing my hiking stick, and grabbing a root to stop my slide. Nature went easy on me.

After this, I gave up caring about running, especially since by then I had a sense of the effort and distance needed to complete the day. A wonderful finish it was, as over the last few miles I came upon more and more dayhikers around Hanakapi'ai and Ha'enas' white sand beaches, smiling. In the last couple miles, the weather changed and the predicted fierce winds and lightning storms for the day finally arrived, a bit of a monsoon, conveniently late. The trail would be a different animal if completely wet.

The trail is said to be one of the best in the world. I think that’s accurate. It is now amongst the favorite trails I've ever been on. Rankings are unimportant. But there's something about it--it’s just one of those really special places. I hope to go back someday.

More pics here.

Kaua'i

I spent the last week in Kaua’i, hiking and running the trails of the “Garden Island”, relaxing on the beach, and taking in a long overdue vacation. A friend once told me about this trail that skirts the Na Pali Coast on the north side of the island—the Kalalau Trail—and since then, I’ve always wanted to check it and the island out. Come October, I felt I needed to get away. I had air miles, and so in November, I got away good.

On the first whole day, Monday, I got up early and drove to Koke’e State Park, and hiked/ran through the Alaka’i Swamp, which is a boardwalked trail through an old caldera at an elevation of about 4000 feet.  The preserve is home to many endangered species. Very wet, wonderfully quiet, and pretty near to Mount Waihaleela, one of the wettest places in the world. Views of the Kalalau Valley from above, along the Pieha Trail. I also looped down along the Kawaikoi Stream Trail, to the beginning of Waimea Canyon, the “Grand Canyon of the Pacific.” 3000 foot canyon walls--breathtaking. Probably 11+ miles on trail for the day. One serious faceplant.

Day 2 I slept in, and then checked out the local farmer’s market. Fresh pineapples, starfruit, papayas, monstercados, and other fruits from the Jurassic Age. Later, I drove north to Hannalei Bay, one of Hawaii’s top surfing beaches. Had a fish taco from a taco truck. On the way out there, I checked out the Kilauea Point National Wildlife Refuge, which is home to ocean-faring albatrosses. I also saw a bunch of dolphins at this old lighthouse. I drove to the end of the road, to Kee’e Beach and the trailhead for the Kalalau Trail.

Day 3, Wednesday, I spent mostly in Poipu, on the southern end of the island, snorkeling, and then hiking eight miles on the lithified sand dunes and cliffs of the Maha’ulepu Coast. Highly recommended.

Day 4 was the Kalalau Trail. 4:30 AM rise. Hit the trail at 6:19 AM, first light; finished around 4:51 PM, about 45 minutes before dark. 22 long miles, very tough, very beautiful. Stunning really. Tons of catwalks and are-you-kidding-me cliffs. Backpacker says it is one of America's top 10 most dangerous trails. The trail is also featured in a book I have as one of the best 50 trails in the world. I think it would make a top 10 list on that count as well. The trail wrecked me, like the Tom Petty song.

Day 5. Recovered from Day 4. On the beach. Watched the sun rise over the Pacific. I think I saw a wild pig or two, and visited Wailua Falls. Continued working on the second season of Lost.

Day 6. Watched the sun rise again over the Pacific. Vacation ends, with a tamale on the beach and coffee.

Unfortunately, I came home to a dead battery and a flat tire, in the now freezing cold Pacific Northwest, but I was so mellow that I rolled with it pretty well.

This was one of the best vacations ever. I think I need to do something like this at least once a year.

Some pics below, and more pics here.

Fowl Fun Run

This morning I ran the Fowl Fun Run in south Mount Vernon, a 10k that’s been around longer than some of the runners. I ran like a runny nose, bad, like a slug on saltines. My shins hurt and my shoes didn’t feel right, and I never seemed to be able to get the blood flowing or the heart beating. And then it was done.

That’s the way it goes for me sometimes. I don’t worry about it too much. But on another day, I’m sure I could take a few minutes off my time. Guess I’ll have to prove it to myself sometime this winter.

That said, the Fowl Run was Fun! The course starts at Mount Vernon Christian School, and loops out along the Skagit River dike on semi-rural roads, and loops back to the school via Britt Road. It's totally flat, with some mild headwind today. There are nice views of farmlands, and the possibility of seeing winter fowl, like snowgeese and one big running turkey. One aid station midway.

This year there seemed to be more runners than ever—a few hundred, I’m sure. I enjoyed watching people warm up, which you just don't see too much of with ultras and marathons. Maybe I should've joined in.  Pumpkin pie and hot chocolate in the gym afterwards, with great company. A beanie and handmade coasters to all runners, pictured above.

Heather R. did a terrific job directing, with her wonderful supporting cast and Skagit Runners, our local running club. Thank you all! Great to hang out with Terry, Bryan, Craig, and so many others before and after.

I started up winter track this week, on Wednesday nights, with Erik D. coaching and a bunch of B’ham peeps running. Hopefully I’ll pick up some flexibility tips, and figure out how to move faster. At this point, running is a fundamental part of my life, but one reason I like it so is because there are so many ways to mix things up and keep things fun and new---go trails, headlamp running, hit the track, cross train, short races, long races. Running the WWU track on a cool night, with the track illuminated and the students playing football, rugby, or whatever is pretty cool. Hopefully the weather holds up.

International Rescue Committee

The Seattle Marathon is coming up.  As in past years, I've agreed to run for the benefit of the International Rescue Committee. The International Rescue Committee is one of a few charities that are officially supported by the Seattle Marathon. You can find a link to them at the marathon's website. We have roughly 20 people running and raising money on their behalf this year--more than ever I think--and the last few years "Team IRC" has raised roughly $10,000 per year. 

The IRC helps refugees resettle.  What's a refugee?  A refugee is a person who "owing to a well-founded fear of being persecuted for reasons of race, religion, nationality, membership of a particular social group, or political opinion, is outside the country of his nationality, and is unable to or, owing to such fear, is unwilling to avail himself of the protection of that country".

The IRC has helped refugees in just about every major world conflict since World War II.  Europe. The Iron Curtain. Korea. Vietnam. Cambodia. Rwanda. Sudan.  From each conflict, people flee, with little, leaving the land of their parents, for a new land.  Sort of like the pilgrims, though sometimes with threat of death or physical harm if they stay. The IRC tries to provide temporary resources to help refugees resettle. A roof. Food. Interpreters. English lessons. Clothes. Whatever is needed.

Here's a link to what the organization is doing in Seattle.

So, for the last few years, I've adopted the IRC as my organization to promote and support during the Thanksgiving season. It seems appropriate. If you're thinking about making a charitable donation this Thanksgiving season, please consider the IRC--there's a link to the right. Your gift would be put to good use--the organization gets 5 star ratings as a charity. Also, if you wish to join the Team and  run the race, I can put you in touch with the organizers.

Thanks for reading!

Ron Herzog 50k+

This year’s edition of the Ron Herzog 50k+ brought back the tank traps, after a two year hiatus due to overgrowth. The “tank traps” is an infamous three or four mile section of abandoned deep ditches, designed to challenge tank drivers-in-training. The section now is quite overgrown, and these three or four miles are pretty much bushwacking. You go up, you go down, and do it again, for a while, all on muddy ground. The picture above is a good illustration. I enjoyed it.

The traps are at the crest of a loop, connecting two different sets of logging roads. The event itself is out by Granite Falls, Washington, off of the Mountain Loop Highway, in the Glacier Peak area. Ron Herzog is a deceased Washington ultrarunner, who I believe passed from Lou Gehrig’s disease. The event is dedicated to his memory, and I understand a great deal of money was raised to for ALS research.

The race checked out at about 33 miles. I finished a bump over 6:30, starting out horribly and running better, albeit stiffly, as the day went on. It's time to take up yoga. Nonetheless, a steady diet of Gu and Endurolytes seemed to sort of get things going. I never had any intention of pushing—I was just out to get some miles, and enjoy the day.

It turned out to be sort of a wet one. It didn’t rain all the time, and it didn’t rain hard, but the mist and light rainfall up high had me plenty wet by the midway aid station, and a little cold. I put a jacket on, and seemed to run better after that. But then, the second half is faster than the first half.

Friend Seth and I ran more or less together for Miles 8 to 16, including the sometimes ridiculous tank traps, along with Craig. Seth has a great writeup with a link to additional pictures posted here.  The last 6 miles or so I ran with Glen M. and Dave D., crossing the finish line together. Good stuff. 

Thought of the song Misty Mountain Hop, with all the fall colors and the clouds drifting below, through the valleys. Lots of signs of logging—clearcuts, second growth, logging equipment. It was nice to land a chair and some warm soup at the finish.

Thanks to TC and Shawn, Tom and Chris, Tim, and all the other folks who helped make it such a great time.