Zero Limits State Of Mind #01

The Beauty Of The Fail

by Ras Vaughan

Ninety-Eight Days All for Naught

n June 11th, 2017, Team UltraPedestrian achieved the biggest fail of our careers. After 98 days and 1300 miles on the trail pushing our minds, bodies, gear, finances, and relationship far past their limits, we were forced to admit that we would not be able to complete our goal of becoming the first people ever to yo-yo the Grand Enchantment Trail. (Yo-yoing a trail means traveling it from one end to the other and then back again, thus completing the trail twice in a single push, once in each direction, like a yo-yo running out to the end of its string then returning to your hand.)

The GET runs east and west between Phoenix, Arizona, and Albuquerque, New Mexico, for approximately 770 miles. But the GET isn’t an official trail: it’s a route that links together existing trail, unmaintained trail, two tracks, roads, bushwacks, and cross-country sections that traverse both vast deserts and vertiginous mountain ranges. It’s an incredibly difficult and indelibly rewarding route. Being in the heart of the American Southwest, the Grand Enchantment Trail presents a very limited window of opportunity in the spring and fall, between the freezing snows of winter and the blistering heat of summer. On our final day on the trail, when Kathy inadvertently left her sleeping pad in the direct sun and it melted we knew that our window of opportunity had slammed shut.


Our GET Yo-yo attempt was the second in a series of four desert trail yo-yos that we planned as part of our multi-year Desert Yo-yo Grand Slam project. This included the Arizona National Scenic Trail, which we had successfully yo-yo’d between September 18th and December 20th of 2015, the Grand Enchantment Trail, the Oregon Desert Trail, and the Hayduke Trail. Each of these trails is approximately 800 miles long in a single direction and traverses some of the most challenging and unforgiving terrain in North America. We were attempting them in order of ascending difficulty, and we were under no illusion that our success was a given. These are extremely challenging routes, and there’s good reason why no one had ever yo-yo’d any of them before.

Not only did we aspire to being the first, but we planned to do it in “Feet On The Ground” style, not hitchhiking into resupply towns, not accepting rides of any kind, and not using public transportation or any other form of conveyance (we even avoided elevators in motels). Our goal was to cover every step of the way under our own power and on our own two feet. In or minds this would be the highest ethic we could attain, the best style, the fairest means, but it could also be summed up rather simply as, “cray cray is as cray cray does”. We had invested months evaluating the physical, mental and logistical challenges involved in the overall project and had concluded that it was Humanly possible. We wanted to find out if we were the Humans to do it. …

Read the entire article on the UltraPedestrian.com.

Twenty-Eight Miles To Go

Twenty-Eight Miles To Go Before I Finish

By Kathy Vaughan
                                            

     The rain began just as dusk started to set. It was Saturday, and I had been running around Lake Youngs since 6:00AM Thursday. I was starting to feel a little bit tired. I still had many miles to go, though, and I would continue to push on through this rain storm. I saw that underneath a huge cedar tree the ground was still dry. I tucked beneath it for just a minute to make a few adjustments before I continued. I put on my rain shell and pulled my hood up over my head. I turned on my headlamp and once again set out into the rainstorm. It came down in sheets, although the rainfall felt light against me. I leaned my head back so that the cool rain could hit my face. It felt good to have the moisture soak my skin and rejuvenate me. I ran the flats and downhills, pushing to get back to the dry shelter at the main aid station. 

     I wanted to rest during the storm if it was going to continue. I had completely forgotten that I had asked my friend Susie to join me for this last night of the race. She would be waiting for me when I got back to the aid station. I would only have time to change into some dry clothing and head back out onto the course. This would be my last night out there. I needed to move well and get some loops done as quickly as possible.  

     Each Memorial Day Weekend for the last five years, ultrarunners have gathered at Lake Youngs Trailhead Park in Renton, Washington for the Pigtails Challenge. Van Phan, an accomplished local ultrarunner, began the race in 2011 so that she could take on the challenge of running 200 miles. She ran the race while directing it that year, and it has continued to blossom and grow. The 200 mile distance starts on Thursday morning at 6:00, the 150 mile runners begin on Friday morning, and Saturday 100 mile and 100k runners start. These distances must all be done by 2:00 on Sunday. A 50k is also held on Sunday, with the same cut-off time. 

     The loop is 9.4 miles long with 900 feet of elevation gain on each loop. Runners reverse direction on the loop after completing each one, checking in at the main aid station first, by running a short lollipop stick trail to reach it. I was running the 200 mile race and began with a 2.6 mile out-and-back. I would then have to run 21 loops to complete the distance. Having completed both the 100 and 150 mile distances here on this course, I knew a little bit about what to expect. This time I would run 5 more loops than I had in the 150 distance. I felt pretty confident that I had it. 

     I lined up with 8 guys at 6 a.m. The other female 200 mile racer had not arrived. I felt a sense of excitement. If I could finish this race, I would be the only female finisher. I even voiced this excitement to a few of the other runners and some volunteers. Terry Sentinella, the Race Director, counted down the Start, and off we went. 

     Ras stayed with me for the out-and-back. We chatted happily, feeling a sense of relief that this race was finally underway. After months of training, philosophizing about and preparing for this race, it felt good to finally be on the course. 


     I planned on checking in at the Main Aid when I got done with the 2.6 mile out n' back, and then heading out again right away for my first loop. I wanted my turn-arounds at the main aid to be quick and efficient. I planned on handling the first 100k as if it were just that; a 100k race. I wanted to just keep going, without sitting down or taking any kind of significant rest until after I had that first 60 some miles completed.

     I knew that I would fall behind all of the guys pretty early on in the race. I reminded myself to “run my own race” and not let what everyone else was doing effect how I was feeling. Two hundred miles was a lot of ground to cover; there was no reason to rush this early. Patience with the process would help me to the Finish like it did last year when I completed the 150 mile distance on this same course.

     About a half hour into the race, I saw Amanda (I later learned she goes by Mandee), the other female 200 runner. She had arrived late and was now in the race. She looked strong and happy to be out on the course.  She was also nearly 15 years younger than me. I now had a little competition. She seemed to be going out pretty fast, so early on in the race. While still running my first loop, Mandee came towards me again. It didn't make sense. She should have run the out n' back, checked in at the main aid and then headed out to do her first loop in the counter clockwise direction, like everyone else, even though she started late. I shouldn't be seeing her coming towards me; she might catch up to me and come up from behind, but not towards me. I stopped her just briefly to ask if she had taken the wrong direction after the out n' back and she just answered a short “ No”. I let it go and again reminded myself to run my own race. It did occur to me that she was having a rough start, and as far as competition goes, this was in my favor.

     By evening, some of the other runners had begun to slow down a little bit. Mandee was limping quite dramatically from what appeared to be a calf strain. She seemed pretty stressed out about it, but was still smiling on some of the loops. She was still going quite fast, sometimes power hiking, but we were staying pretty close in our loop finishes. Van Phan paced me for a loop. It was wonderful to have her company and we ran a pretty fast one. We visited about upcoming goals, how this year's race was  going, compared to the past year's races, and about all kinds of other things. It meant a lot to me to have Van offer to run a loop with me when I had seen her at set-up first thing in the morning. 

     Van offered to bring Ras and I a pizza without cheese to have in our shelter, knowing we would be getting hungry as the night wore on. The volunteers at the aid stations were getting tuned into the special needs of all of the runners and the first night we were on our own for vegetarian fare. By the second day, there was black bean soup with avocado & corn chips; veggie burgers; veggie dogs; butternut squash soup; bean burritos and vegan pizza. It was pretty awesome having so much food to keep us all fueled. In addition, I had Honey Stinger Waffles, both Caramel and Lemon; Honey Stinger Energy Chews; Expedition Espresso Trail Butter pouches; Picky Bars in several different flavors including Smooth Caffeinator & Cookie Doughness; several cans of vegetarian soups; instant Starbuck's Via coffee pouches; and some Kickstart drinks made by Mountain Dew. 

     Kathleen and the Mann's, Jules & Mihaela, arrived at the same time to run a loop with me after Van said goodbye. I enjoyed having the evening company, but I told them from the beginning that I would enjoy hearing them visit, but they shouldn't expect me to chime in too often. I said they could lead the way when they wanted to. I was ready to settle into some more “in my head” kind of running. I wanted to run all the flats and downhills, and power hike the uphills. I set out on the loop with these three pacers with a cup of soup in hand, a Mrs. McDougall's Pad Thai with peanut powder sprinkled over the top.  It tasted delicious and I sipped it as quickly as possible as I hiked. I didn't want the pacers to get cold or feel like the progress was going slowly. It was good for me to feel the slight bit of pressure. This was still only the first night. I was also beginning to visualize going out solo on the next loop and what I would need in order to do this. I already had my headlamp out on this loop and would be turning it on soon.

     We got around the loop. By the end I felt done with having company and was ready to head out solo. I like everyone that was spending time with me on the trail, but I didn't want to engage in any conversation. I wanted to listen to my mp3 player and just move for some miles. When we got back to the shelter, Ras was there. He offered to join me for the next loop, and this was perfect for me. I felt safer having him with me, now that it was getting late at night. I was getting sleepy, but it was too early to sleep yet. We would get one more loop in together and then probably both lay down for a couple hour nap. We had some food at the aid station as we sat in chairs. It was fun to visit with some of our friends and other people in the trail running community, as we sat for a little bit. Maudie and Brandi, two young woman ultra runners working at the aid station, took my shoes off for me and fetched my Altra Lone Peaks from our shelter. I had developed a blister that I had successfully taken care of earlier. I now wanted the open mesh, foot shaped toe box of the Lone Peaks. I had been wearing the Altra Olympus 2.0 for the max cushion on the mostly packed gravel trail. Then I changed to the Paradigms, also with a comfy max cush. It was now time to change things up a bit, as I had planned. I also had 1 more pair of 
Altra Running shoes in my arsenal: the Lone Peak 3.0's which I was wear testing and allowed to wear in a race format. I was wearing Injinji toe socks. My feet were holding out quite well, aside from the one blister which was now under control.

     It felt good to have the girls massage my feet and get me all set up with the Lone Peaks and gaiters I could now wear again. The Paradigms don't have the Gaiter Trap, so my gaiters work better with the Lone Peaks. Maudie and Brandi set me up by the heater and fed me, and then sent Ras and I on our way when we were done with our night time adjustments. It was great having the crew help and I feel so appreciative of the supportive community that was around for the whole weekend. I was now ready to get a good night time loop in.

     Instead, I got out on the trail and felt slow and sluggish. It was fun to be out there with Ras, but I lost some motivation. I drudged on, feeling ashamed that I wasn't moving faster and showing Ras how well I had been doing. I had moved without sluggishness up until now. This was not good. We stopped several times to just sit, once on The Bench of Temptation and another time at the midway aid station. I knew this wasn't ideal, but it at least confirmed that it would be helpful to take a nap in our sleeping bags when we got back to the main aid. Our shelter was all set up for this nap time, complete with an alarm clock and instant coffee (to be made using our Jet Boil) at the ready. As soon as we got back, we checked in at the main aid and told them we were both napping. We asked if they could wake us up in two hours and they were happy to do so. I also set the alarm, put cozy, soft fleece socks on my feet and fell asleep before I knew it. 

     I awoke to the sound of the 150 mile racers getting ready in the start area. They were full of excitement. I crawled out of my sleeping bag and made coffee. I wanted to get back out there right away. It was light out and time to be moving. It wasn't as hard as I expected it to be. I was soon out on the course and moving pretty well. I felt motivated again and was happy to think about the miles I had completed. Ras had told me Heather “Anish” Anderson would be showing up and wanted to join me for a loop or two. This was awesome news and I was very excited to be having Heather join me. Heather holds the speed record for thru-hiking, in a self-supported fashion, both the Pacific Crest Trail and the Appalachian Trail. [Note: in the intervening months since the 2016 Pigtails Challenge, Heather set the Fastest Known Time for the Arizona National Scenic Trail in self-supported, feet-on-the-ground style.] I got through the loop as fast as I could, expecting Heather to be there when I got back.

     Sure enough, she was, and she was just the pacer I needed. I was getting deep enough into this now that I needed someone to help me with some numbers. I knew I just had to keep going, but I wanted to make sure I still had time to rest again that night, make the cut-off and take the time I needed between loops to be ready to head out for another 9.4 miles. She knows all about spending time on the trails going after huge goals. She knows what it takes to stay motivated and to be able to figure out splits, pacing and the importance of fueling properly to get it done. Not only did we have a blast chatting, we had a lot in common to talk about; but she was great at helping me feel confident that I would be able to get this mileage done within the allotted time.

     Heather stayed with me for 2 loops and then it was time for her to say goodbye. I made a quick turn around as she first helped me with everything I needed. We had discussed ahead of time what I would need to do before my next loop, and she set me up before saying goodbye. Then I was out there again, on my own. The rain began on this loop, only increasing in intensity as the evening wore on. I got around the loop, grabbed more coffee, hot food and rain protection, and then headed out again into the weather. 

     I got out there on that gravel path and made it around another loop. When I got back, it was time for another nap. It was Friday night and I was getting mileage done. I only had another day and a half of this race left. 

Race Director Terry Sentinella briefing the runners starting Saturday morning.

     I awoke Saturday morning to the loud and enthusiastic 100 mile and 100k runners. The rain was still coming down. It was damp and a bit chilly outside, as I made my way to the outhouse and to see just what was going on in the start area. It was busy, that's for sure. I needed to feed off of this energy and get back out on the course. I made myself a cup of coffee in my shelter while I put on new layers and prepared for going out in the rain. I would wear my Gatewood Cape and take my hot coffee with me. I just needed to start getting around another loop. I needed to wake up. I felt so sleepy and slightly unmotivated. The busier trail would be a challenge for me, although I would be seeing some friends like Kathleen Leonard and Arya Farahani. I looked forward to this.

     I got out on a loop and felt almost like a zombie. The rain was really coming down. I had to get to the point where I was awake and actually running. This pace would not cut it. I drank my coffee as quickly as I could with this in mind. I would have to try taking off my cape at some point, as it was hindering my ability to move very efficiently. It was actually keeping me too cozy and making me feel as though I were inside of a warm tent. It wasn't until the midway aid station that the rain let up enough for me to take off the cape and get going again. I was at least making some progress though, and I did not let it discourage me. I was now awake and it was time to move faster.  When I got back to the main aid, I took some other layers off and got back out on the course with food and music. I was motivated to get some miles done.

     I kept going all day, making progress and staying not too far behind the rest of the 200 milers. I felt good and ate well. I was happy to have food to eat each time I came through the main aid station. I had heard that Mandee had a rough night out on the course and Terry made the decision to pull her out of the race at 150 miles. He awarded her a buckle and she went home to sleep. She had given it her all, and then some. That girl has heart.

     I got in one last loop solo, as the dark of night came on for the last night of the race. It felt good to be at this point, although I was beginning to feel quite drained, physically and mentally. Pushing myself to move with any speed was becoming very challenging. I knew it was getting to the point where I was getting close to the cut-off, even if Terry was allowing me to at least be on my last loop by the cut-off time. I had a pacer coming on, Susie. I hoped that this would help get my motivation level back up and help give me the push I needed to complete the mileage and earn the buckle I so desired, the buckle I had trained so hard to receive. 

     I had asked Susie ahead of time if she might like to pace me for a loop or two. We had met at Evergreen Trail Run's Echo Valley 50 Miler a couple of years ago. I enjoyed her energy and wanted to get to know her better. She had given Angela a tent when she needed one for an internship she did in the Sequoia National Forest one summer. She has a cute daughter named Addy and, both of us being moms, I figured we would have some things in common to talk about. She had invited me to join her for a Wonderland Trail challenge she had last summer. I was unable to make it work. This was a chance for us to finally spend some trail time together. I warned her, it may get ugly. “Dress warmly”, I said to her in a facebook message. “I could be doing more hiking than you might expect.” 

     Susie had already been waiting at the aid station about an hour by the time I got back around the loop. She came into my shelter with me and we started talking about the strategy of getting back out there into the rain, into the dark, into the deep miles. She was game and would do whatever it would take to get me around some loops that would take less than 3 hours each. She had chatted with Ras, and he encouraged her to help get me moving a little bit faster. I was feeling so lazy. I didn't want to try to get in any “fast” loops. I didn't want to quit, I wanted to finish. But as Susie later confessed to me, I wasn't communicating that to her. 

     We took off into the night. It was probably about 10:30 on Saturday night, the final nighttime hours of the race. Susie reminded me of this. This was the last night I had to be out in the dark, cold, tiring hours of the middle of the night. I would get so tired I was staggering around on the trail, like a drunk. I wanted to curl up anywhere and just take a nap. It was so hard to keep moving when my eyes were shutting and I was having little, short dreams. They were just flashes, but when I awoke for whatever reason from my sleephiking, I knew I had just had a little snippet of a dream. This was a part of pushing forward and using my endurance experience. This was not the first time I had gotten “the drowsies” on the trail, and it would not be the last. I had to keep going now. I could no longer afford to take a nap. I divided a 5-Hour Energy into two doses, taking one right when I realized with Susie that I had the drowsies, and then taking the second part of the dose when we got to the aid station. Sometimes these doses worked, sometimes they didn't. It was worth a try.

     Susie and I stopped at the midway aid station, where Brad Hefta-Gaub was kind enough to share some of his coffee from his thermos with me. It tasted so good. I sat in the comfy camp chair, sipping the coffee and listening to he and Susie talk about different things. I just listened. It took too much energy to say much. I was just wanting to wake up and feel more motivated, but enjoying the chair. “Beware of the Chair”, they say.

     Susie and I got up and said good bye to Brad. He had been a big help out at the aid station in the middle of the night. It was good to share his company for a little while. We continued on around the loop and then struggled around for another. It would get light on this loop. We were both looking forward to it. 

     I know I was terrible company, all drowsie and whiney. Susie was a good sport for sure and tried to motivate in all the ways that made sense. She reminded me that if I dropped, I would really feel terrible about it afterwards. She let me know that I had enough time to finish, especially since Terry was being so supportive in giving me some extra time to do so. Of course, the cut-off had already been extended from previous years when others weren’t able to finish it. Seventy-two hours had been the previous cut-off; beginning this year, it was eighty hours.

     We made it around the loop. I felt a little more awake once the sun rose and the sky was light once again: the final day. Fewer runners were on the course. My feet hurt and I had some piercing pains in my calves, my knees and my feet. These shooting, piercing pains would come and go. I felt pretty beat up. Susie had to go when we returned from the loop. We said goodbye and off she went. I curled up in my sleeping bag for what I hoped would only be a few minutes. Ras came in from his loop and only had one more to go. I had three more to go. He offered to stay with me for a loop. I could get up right then, pull myself together and go out with him. I could still finish this thing off, but it might not be until 5 hours or more after the cut-off. I didn't have a pacer. I didn't know if I could stay awake or keep motivating myself. 

     Ras needed to get going again and so he did. I stayed in the sleeping bag; torn as to what to do, feeling defeated and needing to turn that corner in my mind. I had sheets of paper with motivational quotes and inspirations on them. I had a chart with splits and mileages remaining all written out by hand. I had done the work ahead of time, but here, in the moment, I was unwilling to do the work it took to finish. I was unwilling to have others wait for me as I pursued a goal. I had thus far not been able to keep a good enough pace to keep me in the game with the others. I was too far behind. I gave up and stayed crumpled in that sleeping bag, until finally I went out to the main aid and admitted my defeat. 

     It was up to Terry whether nor not to award me a 150 Mile Finisher's Buckle. He gave me the choice of whether or not I wanted to accept it. I did. I now have two of those. Next year I'll be back to earn my 200 Mile buckle. I know I can do it. There is something special about the Pigtails Challenge, Lake Youngs and all of those involved that keeps drawing us back, year after year.  As I think of it now, Memorial Day Weekend 2017 can't come soon enough.

     

Eight Times Around Rainier

Eight Times Around Rainier:
Wandering the Wonderland in Ceaseless Wonder

By Kathy Vaughan

     We awoke in the middle of the trail, the cold pre-dawn chilling us until we stirred fitfully. We were on the descent to the South Mowich River from Golden Lakes. We had hiked through the high alpine meadows and the area around the old patrol cabin in the middle of the night, frost on the boardwalks and puncheon bridges crunching underfoot. The silvered and burned snags stood tall in the distance as we moved towards them, knowing that we would soon be descending towards the Mowich, the wooded switchback trails ahead giving us an opportunity to catch a couple hour nap. 

     Ras and I were on a nighttime stretch during our 94 mile Wonderland Trail run around Mt. Rainer. We had a long weekend open up in the midst of our busy schedule working as weeders for a yard care service on Whidbey Island. Each weekend all summer long, Ras and I had been getting out on adventure runs, either with each other or with other partners. This was an opportunity for us to do something long together. It would be a challenge and I didn’t know if all of my unsupported trail excursions would benefit me on the 20,000+ feet of elevation gain involved in this circumambulation of Rainier, or hinder me because of my sore knees and tight IT bands. I had set out in an attempt to run the Wonderland on the weekend of my 50th birthday, with my friend Lisa. It was quite hot on the trails around the mountain that weekend, and we altered our route to the 40 mile Owyhigh Lakes loop instead. I was crawling along slowly on the climbs in the heat, and may have even been suffering from some heat illness. The Wonderland wasn’t going to work for me that weekend, but this weekend, with the first of the autumn temperatures on the mountain scape, it was seeming more likely.

     Ras and I set out from Longmire at 10:33 in the morning on Saturday the 6th of September. We headed out clockwise to tackle the 10,000 feet of elevation gain we would encounter on the more secluded west side of Rainier. We started by climbing towards Rampart Ridge, crossing the glacial waters of Kautz Creek and then onwards towards Pyramid Creek. The going in here was smooth and encouraging. I enjoyed the cooler weather and was prepared with enough layers to take on colder temperatures as they were likely to occur when the sun dropped. I love the fall and spending time in the forest on cool days is an all sensory experience. The damp earth emits a woodsy fragrance that brings me calm and evokes feelings of peace from past trail times. 

     Ras and I each settled into our own thoughts and quietly pushed the climb towards Devil’s Dream Camp and Indian Henry’s Hunting ground beyond. The patrol cabin there was occupied with other people out enjoying the trail, so Ras and I continued on before taking our first sit down break.  We had brought along our leftovers from Pizza Pi all vegan pizzeria in the U district of Seattle.  We used to take our daughter Angela there when she attended the University of Washington. We purposely got enough so that we would have some for the trail, a special way to take in some calories and good memories at the same time. My favorite is Presto Pesto and I shared some slices with Ras, as we sat alongside the trail where it first descends from the high meadows of Indian Henry’s Hunting grounds towards the suspension bridge that spans Tahoma Creek, far below. 

     We got chilled pretty fast and this forced us to get moving on our technical descent to the bridge. The trail was steep and rocky, but also scenic and fun. We got moving and reached the bridge in no time. It was fun to cross and think about my first time, crossing it together with Angela as she was only 7 and needed accompaniment. Ras shot some video on our crossings and we continued on our way, climbing towards Emerald Ridge. Nothing about the Wonderland is easy. There are challenges all along the way. Each seemingly insurmountable challenge I’ve ever experienced on that route has taught me a valuable lesson; has been achievable; has been worth every minute of it. All moments in the raw wild of nature are what is real about life. It’s the moments indoors, eating processed food and being warmed by unnatural heating that are artificial. I thrive in the outdoors. I spend time indoors and even time working in the outdoors, longing for the freedom of the trails. 

     Being on the Wonderland and having 94 miles to cover, I was in my element. Any struggles aside, I was in a zone out of which I could not be snapped until I returned to my car, on foot.  I had set out to complete this once already a few weeks back. This time I would cover all the miles, see all the sights, feel all the feels of completing this iconic route in one straight through push.

     Mist rising off of the wet downed old growth created a mystical feel to the surroundings as Ras and I were waking up. We had to get across a couple of separate channels of the braided Mowich Rivers coming off of the glacier on this facing of the mountain. The river was wild and tumultuous; the color of chocolate milk. Ras had tried to build a rock crossing here in the middle of his Rainier Infinity Loop in July. He finally spotted a log crossing with his partner Gavin Woody and got safely across. We didn’t know what to expect this time because of the experience he had earlier in the season. 

     Instead, there had been a new bridge built and easy to follow cairns marking the way through the rocky river bed. We got across without issue and soon saw a young couple, also doing the Wonderland in ultrarunner style. They were coming downhill, moving well, and looked like they had been working hard. They may have even looked “too fresh”, and Ras and I surmised their run may have been supported. They might have camped up at Mowich Lake the night before. They may have just been younger, stronger, more fit and rocking it in better style than Ras and I too. Either way, they were friendly. We went on our way, climbing up from the Mowich crossings toward the eponymous lake.

       I have done this climb so many times and in a different mode each time. On this occasion I felt pretty strong, although it does always feel relentless. It’s a 3.7 mile climb with a 1,000 foot gain per mile. That’s stiff. I listened to some good music on my mp3 player to distract me. I settled into the switchbacks. Ras and I paused for a few minutes and had a snack. We continued on contouring at first and then climbing gently towards some creek crossings. Onwards, upwards towards Mowich Lake where Ras planned on checking the thru hiker box at the ranger cabin. I had hoped he would find some hand warmers there, or any kind of vegan friendly snack food. We were “thruing” the Wonderland, after all, and it was legit to see what the hiker box might behold. We’ve contributed to these things before.

      I sat at a picnic table, cleaning out and reorganizing my pack, as I watched the comings and goings of the camp area. I felt drowsy and low energy, but looked forward to the 2ish mile climb to Ipsut Pass. Once there, we had a long descent to the confluence of Ipsut Creek and the Carbon River. This was a magically scenic section of trail through thick old growth forest with babbling brooks, gigantic ferns and soft carpets of differing mosses. We could make some good time in here and relax into the day. 

     Ras returned with a small baggie of Starbursts, which we divided up evenly. I ate mine right there and threw the little wrappers away while we had access to garbage cans. We got ready and hit the trail once again. The trail left the lakeshore and made its way to the pass where several other parties arrived at the exact same time that we did. We let two guys go ahead of us on the down climb and then we left the scenic over look to descend into the Ipsut Creek drainage. It is one of the most beautiful spots on earth and I love being there. I watched my footing while still taking in the views. There were also berries to eat and Ras dropped behind to graze. I was enjoying trotting along on the steep switchbacks, knowing that the evening’s mileage included climbing the rocky trail along the Carbon Glacier, past Dick Creek Camp, through Moraine Park to the high ridge above Mystic Lake.

     The mountain reappeared as the enchanted, wooded meadow of Moraine Park opened into a valley dotted with large erratics. Marmots whistled in the distance. My goal was to reach that ridge above Mystic Lake before the sun sunk and we lost our light. I climbed in earnest, my eyes searching for the ridge after each steep, short switchback. Leading the climb, with Ras just behind me, I got to the sign pointing to the lake .7 miles away, at the high point I’d had in my sights. It felt good to have reached that little goal. I called out in triumph to Ras, but kept on going, trying to run some of this downhill, my headlamp leading the way now. It was an eroded and steep trail for a little way, but then it ended in a sweet little flat meadow leading up to the lake. It then ran alongside the lake. Being here in the dark was absolutely perfect.

     After running around a portion of the lake, the trail took us off towards the camp. We stopped so I could get some little rocks out of my shoes and Ras got a couple of pictures from this spot at the alpine lake in the quiet of the night. We got through the camp unnoticed and went on our way to cross White River, another of the glacial river crossings. This one was as smooth as the others had been, a good log crossing in place. Now the trail was cruisy as we meandered along with only gentle climbs, leading to the moraine field section. Going through this exposed section at night felt good, cold drifts of air coming up from the openings between the huge rocks in this glacial wasteland.  There is no shade in here if traveling in the heat of the day during the summer months. Ras and I made good time through this section and then we had another river to cross.

     Winthrop Creek at 4,900 feet originates from the second largest glacier on the mountain and is named after Theodore Winthrop, a nineteenth century author. In 1853 he saw the Winthrop Glacier and writes about it in his book “The Canoe and The Saddle”. We crossed the creek via a sturdy log. On the other side, we began a steep climb. We passed a spot where Garda Falls once attracted hikers for camping. It then closed to camping and was a water stop for my family many times. But late one night while running the Mother Mountain Loop with my friends Vivian Doorn and Lisa Eversgerd, we got to this spot, and it no longer existed. I had told them we could stop here and get water before the climb, but it had been obliterated in a land slide. A large tree jam had changed the terrain and it was no longer a parked-out rest stop. It was uninviting, sharp branches poking out and piled up on each other. We had moved on.

     Ras and I did not speak of this as we passed through this time around. It had gotten dark again, another night coming to pass. We were focused on getting to the White River Campground where we planned on taking a nap at the thru-hikers’ camp site. We had some miles to cover before then, but we knew how to get it done. We both had our mp3 players going, giving us something to enjoy listening to as we traveled along the trail through the dark of the night. We were moving towards Granite Creek Camp at 5,730 feet. This was another favorite spot along the trail, because the creek itself is so clean and pure, such a classic example of a mountain stream. My family took a rest day at the group site here when we first took on this trail with Angela at age seven, a big eyed innocent young hiker. She loved meeting other hikers and she got to interact with some at the camp during that hike. We hung out in camp all day, playing at the stream some and washing our clothes in a large ziplock bag.

     But this time, Ras and I crossed the small log foot bridge and moved through yet another of the Wonderland camps stealthily under the night sky. We now had some gentle switchbacks for a couple of miles until reaching the high open landscape of Packtrain Ridge. I had been struggling internally with the effort we were putting out. I was disoriented and slightly out of it when we first got up onto the ridge. There was thick mist in the air and it was hard to see very far in front of us. Ras had taken the lead, feeling good and moving well. I struggled behind him with these feelings of not quite vertigo, but something taking over my whole being, my state of mind and my ability to move very efficiently this late in the night. I really did know this area of the trail quite well. But right now, I could not figure out where we were. We finally reached the intersection where the trail to Skyscraper Peak stretches off towards the sky. Ras said, “Okay, are you ready?” I was in disbelief. I didn’t know if I could even pull off the rest of the mileage to complete the Wonderland, let alone add on this side trip to climb Skyscraper. He said we had decided even just a short while ago that we would climb it. I had no recollection of that and was really surprised that he had planned on doing it. It was midnight, cold, and we were already pressed for enough time to finish and get back to work by nine o’clock Tuesday morning. 

     Unfortunately, this ended up being a turning point for me. I knew I had disappointed Ras by turning down the side trip up Skyscraper. I like the climb too. I too was enjoying making summits each weekend throughout the summer. At this moment though, I felt like adding it onto our 94 mile adventure that was stretching out, was over the top. I also felt pulled to do it and was bummed out I had reacted so strongly to the idea. It did not feel good that we were now moving on, down the trail, in the thick mist, away from the opportunity to pull off that summit. I got teary and even more weary. We dropped down towards Sunrise Camp in the cold basin below us. Ras stayed in the lead. We tried stopping in the lee of an outbuilding at the camp, but the strong wind gusts were still too cold for us to stop for long. We moved on, now on the final three mile stretch towards White River Camp and our nap.

     Finally, we got to the wooded camp. There were restrooms and spigots with running water. We put down one of our Six Moon Designs Gatewood Capes and used the other for a cover. We bundled up in every layer we had with down puffy suits as the top layer. I took off my Altra Lone Peak 3.0 NeoShell Mids, and Ras kept his Lone Peaks on his feet for warmth. I had a blister and wanted to stretch out my feet. It felt good to be out of shoes for a little while. It was 4:30 in the morning. We both fell fast asleep, surrounded by other thru-hikers, unaware of our presence in camp right near them.

     We wanted to wake up and exit the area to begin our final 30 miles, by about 7:30, allowing us three hours of sleep. I woke up first and wondered off to the rest rooms, filling my water bottles on the way back. Ras was still asleep, so I cuddled up beside him and rested just a little longer. We didn’t discuss our plan for the day. I really didn’t know yet what it was. I encouraged him to wake up and move out to the picnic area where we could find a sunny spot to warm up and regroup. We finally moved out there, but were both so tired we would drop off to sleep in the sunshine before making any progress with our trip planning. Could I continue? Did we have enough time? Should we hitchhike back to Longmire from here? Should we pull ourselves together and just get back out on the trail? Would we make it to work on time if we continued? Could we even contact our boss, Mary, from here via our cell phones? 

     After moving from sunny spot to sunny spot for a couple of hours, taking in mouthfuls of my Expedition Espresso Trail Butter pouch to energize myself, we finally argued ourselves into getting started again. Neither of us wanted to give up and we knew we could finish off the mileage. We just didn’t know if we could pick up the pace like we needed to, this deep in.  I had a couple of blisters I needed to tend to before getting started and I’d have to push myself to run more than hike in order to get this thing done. 

     We hit the trail leading out of the White River Campground, crossed the White River and ran the rolling trail for several miles before it began the climb along Frying Pan Creek. We moved together quietly. I knew that each time I pushed myself harder than I felt like I could, harder than I wanted to, it would make a difference. This was it. These were the final miles of the Wonderland Trail. Before I knew it, we had reached the high meadows of Summerland and began our trek up the steps towards Panhandle Gap. We were at one of the final cruxes of the route. This climb through snowfields in the cold mist and wind was hard. We couldn’t stop as it was just too cold. We were low on food, stretching out carefully what we had left to last into the night miles. The views were not far reaching. The clouds and thick mists shielded the views from us as we looked out into the distance. We both pushed forward, strong and determined. At the Ohanepecosh River we would take a break and fill our water bottles. Right now we just wanted to move, one foot in front of the other, through this mountainous terrain. 

     A few other backpackers meandered through the camp at Indian Bar. They were filtering water, or getting settled into camp, or just relaxing after a day on the trail. We were filtering water and then moving on, an additional 18 miles to go before finishing our weekend route. Nothing is as scenic as Indian Bar. The Ohanepecosh River meanders down from an inactive hanging glacier and babbles through the valley. A stone shelter presides just above the river and the hidden backcountry camp turns off the trail just before it.  Ras and I settled into a spot were a side creek splits off from the main river and it’s easy to get nice clear water here. We shared Honey Stinger Energy Chews and drank ice cold water. We knew we had it now. The Cowlitz Divide lay ahead. This would be challenging, steep little climbs and descents over eight miles or so. Then, before we knew it, we would be running the gentle downhill trail towards Nickle Creek. I was looking forward to passing the intersection of trail where Lisa and I decided to run the Owyhigh Lakes Loop instead of the Wonderland for my 50th, back in August. It was a hard decision and we sat at that spot for a good half hour. I knew it would feel pretty awesome to run through it, on my way to completing the Wonderland this summer after all. 

     Ras and I felt great moving through the Cowlitz Divide. We took a couple of short breaks on scenic overlooks, but for the most part, got some quick miles in. We climbed well and had those little summits behind us before we knew it. I recognized the point where the trail begins to descend towards Nickle Creek. I opened up and let loose. I ran well and the miles glided by. We got to the intersection where Olallie Camp cuts off, where Lisa and I had turned. We ran by it and it did feel good. On and on we went at a good pace, running towards Nickle Creek, Box Canyon and then Maple Creek. 

     Somewhere around Maple Creek it all took a turn. Rain began to fall, at first as a drizzle which wasn’t much of an issue for us. It then came on stronger, and finally began pouring with an intensity that grew more mighty with each foot of elevation we gained. The night wore on and on, rain soaking us and only the end in sight pulling us like a magnet ever forward along the dark trail. We both wore our Gatewood Capes and they kept us warm and dry enough, if we kept moving. We could completely tuck underneath it if we needed to make an adjustment with our mp3 players, headlamps or wrappers on our snacks. Ras knew I was running a little low on my food supply, so he had saved a Caramel Honey Stinger Waffle for me. It tasted so good, in this nighttime rain storm, almost 90 miles into the Wonderland.

     Ras shared stories with me about what it was like for he and Gavin at this point in their Rainier Infinity Loop. They finished it at Paradise and thus had to climb an additional 3,000 feet in three miles off of the Wonderland route. They had already summited Rainier twice at this same point we were tackling in the night. Stevens Canyon was wet, slick, steep, but well maintained. A trail crew had been through and cut back all of the thick brush that tends to cover the trail in here. It had been that way when Ras and Gavin came through here. The workers had also repaired a slide in a section prone to giving way, and so we had a safe passage through here as well. 

     The climb ended at Reflection Lakes. The trail crosses the Stevens Canyon Highway at a couple of different points, circles the outer edge of Lake Louise and climbs again to reach Reflection Lakes. Then finally, the descent to Longmire begins. Ras and I had a couple of hours to go before our circle around the mountain was complete. We were able to run, albeit slowly, along the Paradise River. The trail had roots and rocks to navigate. They were wet from the deluge, but Ras took the lead here and we were each able to skip through at our own comfortable pace.  

     I could hear the roar of the Nisqually River, the final glacial river crossing. Nicely built log crossings with rails were in place, so getting across all of the channels was easy enough, even in the dark. It seemed now like most of our glacial river crossings had been in the dark. I reflected on how far I had come with these crossings. I once felt so nervous, sometimes crying or jittering with fear as I heard the loud rushing of the silty waters. Now, it was just not a big deal and my body did not send me these same signals.

     From the Nisqually, Cougar Rock Campground is just a short distance away. Car campers can drive up to this campground and hikers can also reserve spots to utilize it during a thru hike of the Wonderland. We quietly ran past the spur trail leading to the campground and continued down the wide path lined in huge firs, cedars and hemlocks. We could see the remains of old wooden water pipes that were once used to transport water in this area. We knew we were getting closer, but we still had just shy of two miles to go. 

     The bright lights of Longmire let us know we were there. I picked up the pace, running the easy final stretch of trail into the well-lit parking lot. It was 3:30 a.m. Ras and I had taken 65 hours to run and hike the Wonderland Trail, unsupported, with autumn temperatures and daylight guiding our way.  We got to our old Subaru wagon and took off our Nathan packs. I climbed into the front seat and reached for my bag of dry clothes I’d been visualizing changing into for many wet hours. Although wet, my feet had been well protected and warm inside my Altra Lone Peak 3.0  NeoShell Mids. My gear was dry inside my Nathan running vest. I felt good inside, having stuck to an ethic of Zero Limits and completed my eighth and fastest circumambulation of Mount Rainier.  

KATHY’S GEAR LIST

1. Nathan VaporShadow (I used the male version belonging to Ras, waiting for the arrival of my female version, the VaporAiress. I have since received two Nathan Ultrarunning packs, designed specifically for women, and used the VaporAiress for a supported 50k. I fell in love with this pack, finding it perfectly designed. It was so comfortable and had all the right pockets in all the right places. It was easy to reach the side zip pouches while still moving. I hardly noticed it for the eight hours I wore it, fresh off the shelf. Ras and I are now new, Nathan brand ambassadors.) 
2. Altra Lone Peak 3.0 NeoShell Mids 
3. Injinji Trail Socks
4. Altra Performance Skirt 
5. Altra tech short sleeve shirt
6. Smartwool mid weight hooded sweater, arm sleeves, knee high ski socks, calf sleeves and neck gaiter
7. Dirty Girl Gaiters
8. Six Moon Designs Gatewood Cape
9. Mammut Down Puffy Jacket 850 Fill
10. Mont Bell Down Puffy & synthetic blend pants
11. 3 packets of chemical handwarmers
12. Ziplock baggie of pancreatic enzymes, antacids, ibuprofen, caffeine pills, and ginger chews
13. Ziplock baggie of toilet paper and a moist towlette
14. 4 Honey Stinger Waffles, 1 packet of Honey Stinger Energy Chews, 2 avacado wraps in whole wheat tortillas, a baggie of roasted and salted seaweed snacks, 2 Expedition Expresso Trail Butter pouches, 4 Picky Bars, 4 slices of leftover vegan Presto Pesto pizza from Pizza Pi in Seattle, 1 homemade apricot fruit roll-up, a few peppermint hard candies, 1 package of Mushroom & Herb cous cous, rehydrated with cold water in a plastic ziplock container, a small serving of Ras’ dehydrated rice and beans.
15. Skins brand compression capris
16. The North Face brand heavy winter running tights
17. Mp3 player loaded with lots of Raggae Dancehall mixed tapes, The Martian and Dharma Bums
18. Black Diamond Icon Mountaineering headlamp with extra set of batteries
19. Smartphone, mainly for use as a camera
20. Swix brand cross country ski gloves
21. Fleece and synthetic fur lined ear flap hat   
*Ras carried 2 small chargers for recharging our electronic devices

Dharma Bumming Double Desolation

Dharma Bumming the Double Desolation Route

Kathy Vaughan & Lisa Eversgerd

By Kathy Vaughan

     Once the restriction of running only during daylight hours is a concept of the past, an adventure can begin at any time of the day or night. My adventure partner Lisa and I discovered this when we completed the Methow Trails 200k Nordic Ski Challenge, the first people to take it on in one push. We set out on a cold, starlit night at 11:00 p.m. to begin the ski challenge. We skied day and night to complete 217k of trail, sleeping in Lisa’s pop-up camper at the trailheads as needed for breaks. We had run and hiked together before, overnight, napping trailside when we started falling asleep on our feet. Staggering around like drunks becomes dangerous on certain types of trail. We usually choose rugged, remote trails, sometimes with precipitous drops to one side. So we have learned to grab sleep as needed in order to complete long endurance efforts together, and to begin them when it best works out for our busy schedules.

     Lisa works as an organic farmer and soap maker at her home in the Okanogan Highlands community of Chesaw. Ras and I own a cabin with a creek and five acres in Chesaw as well. She and I met at an arts and craft bazaar in Molson, another tiny community. We hit it off when we were on a Rendezvous Huts ski trip on the Methow Trails five or so years ago. We wanted to ski longer and later into the night than the other ladies we were sharing the hut with, and so we did.We then began skiing and ultrarunning together as often as we could. Now that Ras and I have moved across the Cascade Mountains to Whidbey Island in-between long thru-hikes, it’s slightly more complicated for Lisa and I to hit the trails together. Our last run was on the Kettle Crest Trail, 20 miles including a climb up Colombia Mountain. We got into some freak June snow and colder temperatures on that run. We started at 3:30 in the morning in order to have time to complete the route during the short weekend trip. Ras and I had come over to Chesaw to finish up some unfinished moving business. We needed to be done by noon for our long drive home, so Lisa and I started before light, allowing us to be treated to both the moon still bright in the sky and the sunrise. These trips and other had enabled us to be prepared to begin an adventure at any time of the day or night.


     Now at 7:30 p.m., having driven to the East Bank Trailhead nearly three hours away, after having gotten off work from my regular job of weeding people’s yards, Lisa and I were meeting up once again. Ras stopped by on his way to attempt the Kettle Crest 15, a run along the crest trail summiting all the peaks along the way. Gavin Woody would be joining him there.He took our starting photo for us. He then surprised us by cheering us on from the parking lot overlooking the trail after he had already said goodbye. Then Ras took off, leaving Lisa and I alone with her dog Lucy, to begin our journey along Ross Lake.It was 8:30 p.m. as we descended towards the bridge that spanned the confluence of Ruby and Panther Creeks. The turquoise waters churned below and I calmed my own insides as the excitement of what lay before us was now becoming a reality.

     Lisa, Lucy and I were attempting the Mind Body Challenge, an 88 mile route with 17,500 feet of elevation gain. Ras had conceptualized this route and offered it as part of our UltraPedestrian Wilderness Challenge series. The idea was to complete the route and then relate the journey to one of Jack Kerouac’s books that he wrote while working as a lookout on top of Desolation Peak, through a blog or other creative form of expression. Ras had dubbed this uniquely nerdy quest the UltraPedestrian Mind/Body Challenge, and this particular route the Double Desolation. Climbing 5,000 feet in five miles to reach the lookout, on the way out the East Bank Trail and on the way back, after tagging up at Hozomeen at the Canadian border, is an essential part of the route’s design. Ras and I climbed up to the lookout with our daughter Angela when she was about 12. Even at this time, he thought climbing it twice as you travel to the north end of the lake and back would be a unique and crazy challenge.

     Lisa and I caught up with each other on our personal lives as we ran and hiked. We talked about our jobs, our families, our homes and all kinds of other topics. The miles went by quickly and I was surprised each time I saw one of the trail signs for the camps along the way. I had been on this first 17 mile stretch of trail so many times that I knew the mileages and the order in which these camps were situated along the lake. It had become dark. We were soon right above the lake on well-built trail. We could see the water shimmering if we shone our headlamps on it just right. We sat down for the first time ten miles in to have a quick snack. We made a plan to keep pushing through any rain and to be prepared to stop and put on our Gatewood Capes when the time came. We had already been rained on for a short spell. It felt good to have the cool drops fall on us after the build- up of humidity, causing us to sweat as we pushed the pace along the fairly cruisy trail. After the first 1,500 foot climb up to Hidden Hand Pass, the trail essentially rolls along nicely. We were to Lightning Creek and the intersection to the Desolation Peak climb before we knew it.

     The first two miles traverse the side of a steep, grassy hillside with large pine trees. The forests along the lake are mostly cedar, fir, and maple. But along this lone stretch, tall pines reside. And also a bear. Ras and I had seen it the previous weekend near dawn, descending from Desolation. It had been sleeping under a large fir tree leaning against the trunk and reclining comfortably when I first saw it. Ras and I accidentally shone our headlamps into its sleepy face as it awakened, startled and then ran off into the trees.

     When we got to the intersection where the spur trail descends to the lake for boaters to access the climb at Jack Point, we knew the ascent was about to begin for real. We would climb 1,000 feet every mile, mostly with switchbacks. Up and up we went, the rain beginning to come down heavier the higher in elevation we got. It began to get a little bit chilly. I had on compression capris with a skort over the top, ankle high Injinji toe socks with gaiters, my Altra Lone Peak 2.5s, a short sleeve Altra tech fiber shirt with Smartwool arm sleeves, a big warm ear flap hat I bought while thru-hiking the Arizona Trail, a Smartwool neck warmer and my cape over the top of all of this. My skort and capris got wet from the brush. The cape was soaked through, but I stayed mainly warm and dry up top while moving as fast as possible on this climb. I stayed focused on moving sustainably and quickly, visualizing how I would change into warm layers at the top. Lisa had seen a forecast which called for heavy rain to start at midnight and last until about 6:00 a.m. It had started at 1:30 in the morning and I focused on enduring the conditions for this window of time. The forecast called for cloudy skies with sun breaks throughout the rest of the weekend. I just had to get through this. I reminded myself of the phrase, “This too shall pass”. I set my ego aside and understood that Lucy and Lisa were also enduring these same conditions. Staying warm by moving was the only option. I knew to stay focused only on that one task at hand.

     I saw flashes of lightning over the distant mountains, lighting up the dark sky. Waiting for a few seconds, the loud claps of thunder sounded and I wondered how safe it was to keep climbing. I called out to Lisa, wondering if she had seen the lightning too. We decided to keep climbing towards the summit to stay warm, but only stop to take shelter if the thunder sounded closer.Luckily, the storm began to let up within about 15 minutes.

     The climb got increasingly steeper and the sky lightened. After hours of being soaked by a heavy rain, it let up gradually. Then, it was light out. I shook my cape out as I hiked so that it could dry while I was still wearing it. It was helping to keep me warm from the cold, post- dawn temperatures. Lisa and Lucy made some distance on me on the climb, but soon we were all at the top. We felt really good about this progress. We had climbed Desolation for our first time. It was hard, but we both knew we could do it again, even after running another 28 miles with 5,000 feet of elevation gain in the interim.

     I set to work in the cold, quickly getting my dry Smartwool hooded sweater on and my soaking wet short sleeve Altra shirt off of me. I would not be working as hard on the descent and would need to be dressed a little bit warmer. I tucked my wet cape away into it’s own pocket, hoping to have a chance to dry it out later on a break. I pulled on my down puffy pants, knowing they would get a little damp, but also wanting to put something on quickly that would warm me up immediately. They would be easy to take off when I was warm enough and I could then strap them to the outside of my pack to dry during the day. I wanted to preserve my insulated tights for nighttime running and also have them dry to wear for a nap.

     We took a couple of pictures and then started moving at a pretty good pace down the steep mountain trail. The wildflowers were in bloom up above the tree line. The rich fragrance of the small alpine trees smelled so good. It evoked memories of hiking with Ras and Angela when she was young. I was loving being up high and taking in the incredible views all around me. We ran most of the five mile trail down from the top of Desolation. As we got to the two mile section of trail that stretches along high above the lake, we saw the black bear that Ras and I had seen the weekend before. I was in the lead and I saw the beautiful animal lumber across the trail and then start trotting uphill, well away from us. I thought the bear might be around again. I’d seen lots of scat and rotten logs that had been dug out in a search for grubs and insects.

     Our plan was to get water at the bottom of the descent and take a quick break while doing so. We would then get going further along Ross Lake, back into the Lightning Creek drainage. We would tag up after 14 miles and 2,500 feet of elevation gain in Hozomeen, where the Canadian border sits. We were mentally prepared to run all the flats and downhills, power hiking the uphills. We weren’t planning on taking a break until we reached the turn-around. Off we went, the journey now being broken up for ourselves into bite size pieces that we knew we could handle.

     This section starts with a good climb, high above Lightning Creek, which one hears far below. There is some exposure in this section, but the well-built trail is easy to follow and feel safe on while still moving efficiently. The two-ish mile climb is followed by downhill to the creek itself and a sturdy old cabin. Other runners have slept in this dry space on their Mind/Body Challenges; John T. Barrickman and Jeff Wright both. Lisa and I exchanged an agreement that it would work well as a shelter if we happened to be near it in another down pour such as we had already experienced.

     The forest now becomes thick with both old growth and smaller trees, crowded almost. Soft, green moss carpets the forest. Huge old downed logs have a layer of moss on top of them that serves as a soil for young trees and the forest underbrush to grow. These are called nurse logs. They give such an enchanted feel to the forest, some of these logs looking so ancient. The wood is rotting and rich in scent. I can’t take it all in as I run and look around me, entranced and pulled forward further down the trail. It makes it easy, easier than it should be.

When we reach the turn around, we are 44 miles in. Lisa and I see the old cabin I have read about in trip reports and trail guides. We are now in Hozomeen. We had felt like we were off the main trail for a couple of miles, as this mystical forest seemed endless at a certain point. I had remembered Ras saying we didn’t need to take the Trail of the Obelisk, we just needed to cross the parking lot. He had read this in John Barrickman’s trip report, which I had not yet read. Lisa and I crossed the parking lot and did not see anything obvious. We were in a campground. We saw the park ranger and asked him where the obelisk was. We told him we needed to reach that point as our turn-around and that it should be at the exact border with Canada. He directed us a mile or so down a dirt road that led out of the campground in which the trail ends. We were both bummed to have further to go, as we were so happy to have reached this spot. Not only that, the dirt road sounded like it would be quite painful on the already tired feet, 44 miles deep now. We took off down the road looking for the obelisk.

     On and on we hiked, finally seeing the trail sign for the Trail of the Obelisk. I remembered again Ras saying we did not need to take this trail. We hiked past the ranger cabin and to the signs indicating we were at the border with Canada. We took photos for proof here and trusted that the obelisk itself was not the only requiredproof that we had completed the route. We were at the border with Canada, and we felt that was what mattered. I was unaware of any other ruling for proof. I only knew what Ras had said about John saying, “Just cross the parking lot.”

     We got back to the trail head and started our return trip to the Lightning Creek/Desolation Peak trail junction. We stopped to take a quick break for refueling and discussed our strategy to get back as fast as possible to that junction. Lisa suggested we push our fastest for the first 3.2 miles back to the junction with the Hozomeen Lake spur trail. She would take the lead and I would follow her. We moved really well and got there in just over an hour, most of it climbing.

     I then took the lead and pushed as fast as I could for the next 3 miles to where the Lightning Creek trail begins. I forced myself to go fast. I visualized the nap we had decided to take. We were going to bundle up and sleep for 3 or 4 hours when we got back to the trail junction. We now only had about 10 miles until that nap. I could do that any day. I imagined putting on all the layers I had with me and spreading my cape out on the ground. We would try to find a spot under one of those big old pines, or on some soft moss. I snacked consistently and kept sipping my water. We were able to refill from faucets at the lakeside camp.

We ran past the lovely stream, not seeing it now that it was dark, but hearing it’s pleasant rushing noises. I had music going in one ear, just enough to distract me from any of my discomforts and to help me keep up a faster pace from the beat of the reggae dancehall music I enjoy listening to on the trail. We had each taken a caffeine pill and this was helping us to stay focused and increasing our ability to put forth a strong physical effort, now over 50 miles into this unsupported run. Our packs were heavy for running, but we both are used to this, doing unsupported treks more often than supported. We hiked hills and pushed the pace on flats and downhills.

     We passed the old cabin and I was grateful that we were not in a position that required us to step inside of it. We were feeling good: strong, focused and ready for our nap. The cozy nest we would make was calling our name. Lisa led a good pace on the relentless, exposed climb back up high, high above Lightning Creek. It was eerie to hear it far below and to know that one misstep could send any of us toppling down the steep hillside. I followed the trail and Lisa’s headlamp. She called out “How are you feeling?” I called back “Shitty! I had forgotten about this big climb and the drop-off is freaking me out since I’m stumbling around tired! How about you?” She called back “Yep, I know what you mean about the drop-off. If we find a good place to sleep, I’d be ready to take our stop.”

     We each found a place in our minds to go, to relax, to keep moving towards the desired trail junction where we really wanted to be. We made it and then went beyond. We found a perfect wide spot in the trail with moss and protective trees overhead. We each made our own spots. I put on all my layers and had a down puffy suit on over it all. I spread my cape out on the trail, carefully keeping the down gear off of the still wet edges. I then wrapped the cape over the top of me and fell fast asleep. It was 1:30 in the morning and we would sleep until 4:30.

I awoke with a stuffed up nose and finally, not wanting to wake up Lucy and Lisa, blew it hard so that I would stop sniffing and could breathe normally. Instead, I did wake Lucy and she jumped to her feet barking as if a monster had entered our camp in the night. She barked again and leapt behind Lisa for protection. I talked to her calmly so she would know it was me, Lisa doing the same. Finally, she came up to me and sniffed me out. She then realized who I was and curled up into a little ball next to me. I lay down again, snuggling up next to her for warmth, as the pre-dawn morning temperatures were quite cold. She was now being very sweet to me and the warmth she provided was amazing. This was a very pleasant few minutes.

     Now, it was time to be strict with our plan. Lisa and I both put on appropriate layers for getting going and started off down the trail. We were going to push this climb as best we could. It was really the crux of our challenge. We had to climb this steep mountain just one more time. And then a quick 5,000 foot descent. And then a 19 mile run out rolling trail, to the completion of the route. We had it now. We knew what was ahead of us. We just had to be careful to not get injured on the steep downhill.

     Not far down the trail, we saw the big black bear for the second time. This time it saw us too and Lucy let out a bark. Lisa had her on a leash. The bear took off up the steep hills, chuffing repeatedly. It stopped and turned back to look at us, chuffing once again. We kept moving down the trail, giving the bear it’s space.

     We continued to the trail junction where the climb begins towards Desolation for real, and a steep descent leads to the lake shore for boaters, Lisa, Lucy and I settled into a good pace, Lisa taking the lead. I pushed to keep up with her the best I could, as she is a faster climber than me. Lucy stayed back with me for the most part, sometimes darting ahead to be with Lisa. She was enjoying being off leash, now that we were well past the bear, and seemed to like my slower pace. At one point, she stopped abruptly in the trail. I heard buzzing, getting louder, and realized that we were right near a bee nest. She did not want to pass by it, but did anyway and got stung a couple of times. It all happened so quickly that it was hard to react appropriately. I walked right through as well, and got stung twice. The stings hurt and I shouted profanities. I kept on going, trying to hike it off. Lucy cranked her head around a couple of times to chew at the spots where she’d been stung. Soon, I had forgotten about the stings. We did mark the area with branches so that on the descent we would be aware of the nest.

     We got higher and higher and were soon out of the trees. This felt like a huge accomplishment. We still had a lot of climbing ahead of us, but now the switchbacks were taking us directly, and even more steeply, up the mountain.The closer we got to summiting Desolation for our second time, the better I felt. I knew I was going to finish the Mind Body Challenge this time. This was my fourth attempt and Lisa’s second. We had tried it last year and gotten caught in a relentless rain storm, complete with thunder and lightning. We made it just past Nightmare Camp before turning around and heading back towards Lightning Creek, the East Bank Trail head and our cars.

     This time we had it though. We could now see the lookout in the distance and it was pulling us towards it. We wound our way up the steep trail until, finally, we were at the lookout. I pulled out my phone so that I could take a couple of pictures. I put my puffy jacket over the top of what I was wearing so that it would be easy to pull off once I got warmed up again, had a caramel Honey Stinger waffle and loaded the front of my Nathan pack with snacks. Ready to go, we turned to descend 5,0000 feet back down to Ross Lake.

     With tired feet, we moved as efficiently as we could down the steep switchback trail. The wildflowers were vibrant all around us. Lucy showed off, romping off and perching herself on top of rocks. Really, she was looking for small critters to play with or chase, but it was fun to think of her acting so regally. She deserved the right to feel proud; she was just about to become the first canine to complete the Mind/Body Challenge.

     We stopped at a flat outcropping of rocks to take off our warmer layers from the early morning hours. The day was quickly warming up. There were still some clouds overhead, but the sun was shining through and with minimal layers the temperature felt just right. Down the switchback we flew, making our way once again towards the intersection of trail where one heads off either into the Lightning Creek drainage where we had ventured the day before, or back down the East Bank Trail directly along Ross Lake.

     After the 28 mile stretch of the route down Lightning Creek, to Hozomeen and back, and the second climb of Desolation over with, nothing felt daunting to me anymore. All of the remaining mileage felt doable. I just had to get into the proper mindset and take care of myself physically. I decided to finally start listening to Jack Kerouac’s “Dharma Bums”. I had left it until now, as it can be such relaxing listening and I didn’t want to encourage myself to get drowsy. But now it was engaging and the perfect accompaniment to the less interesting stretch of trail that lay ahead.

     The 19 miles of trail along the lake that remained were rolling. I led the pace and I wanted to run everything flat and all of the downhill. I wanted to hike the uphills as fast as I could. Lisa had to work the next day and had a several drive to get home. At this point, every time I could push myself when I didn’t feel like it, it would make a difference. It was time to keep the pace strong and finish this challenge in good style. I felt very motivated.Everything felt right. I nibbled on my remaining Honey Stinger Waffles and slurped on my Expedition Espresso Trail Butter pouch. I had a Honey Stinger walnut cranberry bar that tasted delicious. It was from a sample pack they had sent me, as an ambassador, of several of their new products. The walnut cranberry bar hit the spot perfectly and reminded me of a Christmas shortbread. I also had a couple of Picky Bars left. These had been so easy to eat throughout the miles and always filled me with good energy and nutrition. I had brought just enough food with me. I’d eaten everything but a Lemon Honey Stinger Waffle.

We got to May Creek bridge and sat down for a break while we filtered water. We decided we would take one more break at Roland Creek after the log crossing. This would leave us with 6 remaining miles. We could pull that off any day of the week.

     I continued to lead the pace after our nice break alongside the creek. I had been enjoying “Dharma Bums”. It was definitely distracting me from any of the aches and pains I had after 82 miles. I related to the character Christine, who baked biscuits and made soups and found joy in sharing these with others, feeding others. I have lived like that and would love to spend more time cooking for others now. I travel the trails seeking spiritual fulfillment too and I said to myself, “I’m a Dharma Bum”. I cruised effortlessly along the trail, feeling lighter as I went.

     Crossing the confluence of Panther and Ruby creeks, the rushing waters below were soothing and harkened a sense of completion. Lisa, Lucy and I were coming to the end of our journey. We climbed the few switchbacks that led to the parking area and Highway 20. After 46 ½ hours, the three of us had completed the route. We returned to our cars to change into comfy clothes. Lisa made us coffee with her Jet Boil. We said goodbye and Lisa pulled away as Lucy slept soundly on the bench seat of her truck.I stayed behind to sleep in the back of my car overnight. I wanted to soak in all the goodness, all the joy, all the sense of accomplishment. I prepared some canned chili and a box of mushroom rice pilaf. I sat in my camp chair with a cozy fleece blanket and fell into the deepest relaxation I’d had for months.