Winter Adventuring: Embracing Seasonal Challenges

Winter Adventuring: Embracing Seasonal Challenges 

By Kathy Vaughan

     I like living in the north central area of Washington where all of the seasons are distinct from one another.  Winter here brings with it lots of snow, although this year it was slow in coming. The past two weeks, lots of the fluffy white stuff has piled up everywhere and it is making for a whole plethora of possibilities for adventuring in the Okanogan Highlands. Aside from a brief stint to the rainy, green side of the Cascades to run Ft. Ebey Kettles Trail Marathon mid February, all of my trail runs have been in the snow. Its been a fun winter and this will be a blog that shares trail experiences I've had throughout late January and the month of February. These months have been extra inspiring for me. As an ambassador for Altra Running, I've wanted to push myself even harder, "Zero Limits" being one of the slogans the company promotes.

     Ras' mother lives in Coupeville on Whidbey Island on the west side of the Cascades in Washington. Ft. Ebey Kettles State Park and Kettles County Park are just a couple of miles away from her home that overlooks the Puget Sound, and so Ras and I decided this would be a great trail race to run. We ran it for the first time in 2013, fell in love with it, and this year we were excited about returning. Ras was also running the Woolley Trail Runs 50k the day before, just about 30 miles from the Ft. Ebey run. He wanted to try to set a PR on the Woolley course, having learned that it was flat and fast. He also likes to try hard stuff and the back-to-back races would offer him that. I stuck with running Ft. Ebey on Sunday. This is a marathon course with 5,500 feet of elevation gain as the trails dip down into kettle formations and out again over a 13.6 mile loop, run twice. 

     I was happy to have gotten my first pair of shoes provided to me by Altra for the season, Lone Peaks 1.5 in black and teal. I would be wearing them straight out of the box and it felt good to know my shoes would have great traction in the wet conditions. The weather was very stormy with strong wind gusts blowing branches over the trails and creating white caps out in the water. The race started directly on the water front, before funneling runners onto the smooth single track. Once in the forest, the wind did not feel as powerful. At the end of the first loop, the trail wound its way back out to a steep bluff and the ferocity of the wind was invigorating.  I could hear the howling before I reached the opening to the bluff and I pulled my wool buff up around my face, covering my ears. I focused on running the small lollipop loop along the water as fast as I could, and then climbing the bluff trail that dropped off steeply to the water below. I tucked my head down and climbed up to meet the main trail that would take me back to the start/finish and the mid-way point for the marathon.

     I ran through the mid-way point quickly, filling my water and getting a new bottle of Perpetuem. I wanted to get back into the forest and back into the loneliness of running in solitude along winding trail, the wind howling in the trees high above. I needed to get lost in my mind again, so that I could power through the second half of the race. I was hoping to finish with a faster time than last year, and being only the second marathon race distance I'd ever run, it would be a PR for me.  Ras was trying to catch me all day, sometimes getting behind me for a while, but then falling back as his tired legs from the 50k he'd run the day before were hollering at him.  I felt good all day, despite the storm. The rain came on at the tail end of the second loop.

     The end of this loop became a highlight in my trail running weather endurance trials.  As I left the forest, I again pulled my buff up over my head and ears. The wind now howled much louder than before and rain pelted against my face, stinging my skin. The finish area looked empty of activity now, runners having already finished their race fleeing to their cars for warmth as soon as they were done running. The light was fading in the sky and the dark clouds overhead were threatening a heavier downpour. I put everything I had into those last few miles. It was crazy to be in that moment, alone and feeling the power of the elements. I pushed up the final grassy slope and over the finish line in 6:38, finishing 12 minutes faster than the year before.  This was my 18th trail race finish since I began trail running in 2011, with 14 of my finishes being ultra distances. 

     Back on the east side of the Cascades, the cold, dry weather was such a contrast. The thick moss and large ferns, the wild rhododendrons and madrona trees, the mud and rich smell of damp earth always seem so foreign to me when I hit the trails on the coastal side of Washington. I love it. When I return home, it strikes me how different the climate is over here. I knew right away I needed to get an adventure in the snow planned, so that I would remember why winter at my home of 3,500 feet was so much fun.

     I messaged my adventure buddy Lisa with some options and she fired back a better one at me-a 26 mile back country ski on snowmobile routes in the Bonaparte Mountain area, just about 15 minutes drive from each of our homes. We had done some long skis like this together last year, but so far the lack of good snow coverage had prevented us from being able to get out on a trip like this yet. Ras would join us. 

     We met at Beaver Lake Campground, at the base of a forest service road that gets groomed for snowmobile traffic a couple of times each winter. Even if it doesn't get groomed, snowmobilers frequent the area and we figured we would be able to ski on the pack that one of these machines would have left behind. We set off in the early morning, in the shade of the trees and snow with an icy glaze on top. The route started with a steep 3 mile climb, and we all settled in quietly, knowing we had a long, tough day ahead of us. At the top of the climb, we reached Bonaparte road which gets plowed by the county. It was in great shape and for 2.5 miles we were able to make good time, skiing along effortlessly.

     Our turn up towards the Virginia Lilly trail brought with it mixed conditions, feelings and a good reality check. We would now begin a steep, relentless climb of about 9 miles before we reached our turn around point at the base of Cumberland Mountain. As we began up the road, we lost the snowmobile pack we'd been following earlier.  We were now pushing snow which added to the level of difficulty. Lisa led the way, cutting the tracks into the deep snow. We were in single file, climbing steadily. About 2 miles up, we crossed a cattle guard and snowmobile traffic that had come towards us from the other direction, had now left a good pack to follow. We were surprised to find this and it was a welcome turn for us. The snow was also softening and the climbing became easier. A light snow had been falling on us all day; not enough for us to get wet, just a dry, steady snow. The temperature was cold enough for us to not want to stop long and there were no sunny patches to create a bit of warmth even for a short pause. We kept on moving.

     Finally, we reached a down hill stretch that was narrow and winding. It was also icy and had been shaded from any warmth the hidden sun was allowing. I tried to lead the way on the descent, but fell as soon as I tried the conditions and instead let Lisa go first. She disappeared bravely, as I then cautiously followed along for the approximately 2 mile drop to Vaughan Creek and our turn around point. Ras followed behind me and we all took a short break before turning to climb the icy stretch we had just come down. At the top of this, we would have some down hill and we were all looking forward to it. 

     We were surprised to find that the downhill took more work and poling than we had thought it would. It was slower going and the long day of skiing was taking its toll on us. We moved along as well as we could. My heavy Fisher back country boots were squishing my toes and not allowing the kind of room I'm used to in the toe box of my Altra Lone Peaks. My toes were shouting at me and my ankle bones were feeling pressure from the boots as well. I kept on pushing and gliding and reminding myself that I wanted to be out here in the wilderness, in the snow. The downhill fun would come. In skiing, one is always rewarded with some awesome downhill. Sometimes, we just don't know when it will come though. Patience. 

     We reached the section of road where we had pushed snow and made our own tracks earlier on the climb up. This was one of the rewards from our hard work. I settled my Fisher back country skis into the wide tracks and pushed off with my poles. The grade was perfect, the snow was just fast enough and the turns were just smooth enough for me to essentially take a 2 mile rest. I rode it out, while moving my feet within my boots, releasing tension in my shoulders and relaxing my body. I was getting the free ride I so love in cross country skiing. It was a blast. 

     At the bottom of the hill, I changed into a thinner pair of socks to allow for more room in the toe box of my boots for the final stretch of the ski. It was time to pull out my headlamp also and attach my sternum light to my pack. I didn't need to turn them on quite yet; the moon was casting a nice glow and this was the plowed road section where skating along gently and effortlessly would need little light. The end of the road came and we all turned on our lights. 

     It was time for 3 miles of downhill in the dark, on slightly icy snowmobile track. This was thrilling. My headlamp was dim as I'd not replaced my batteries after my last long night run. I regretted this almost immediately, but my sternum light was super bright. I just had to keep adjusting it to get it to cast the light in front of me rather than in my face. It was all good though and I can't put into words the awesome feeling of flying downhill on skies in the dark wilderness, with two of my favorite people. The descent seemed endless and coming to a halt at our cars felt so strange. 

     We all changed into dry and warm boots. Lisa and I got our thermoses of hot coffee and tea out and made a picnic spot right there on the snow. She brought huge banana muffins to share, packed with pecans and dark chocolate. The ski had taken us 10 hours and we had not seen a soul, not even any wildlife on this day in the back country of Bonaparte.

     I took a rest day and then had to get back out onto my favorite loop trail, the Black Diamond Lake Lollipop. This loop has 3,100 feet in elevation in 9.7 miles and travels through canyon walls, pine forest, creek beds, rocky outcroppings and sage brush country. Big Horn Mountain Sheep wander through here and a resident cougar's tracks are always fresh whenever new snow falls.

     Lisa, Ras and I would be the team again for this adventure. We bundled up against the wind in the Okanogan River Valley and started the climb up into the canyon about mid morning. We did not see the sheep as Ras and I have so often this winter. So much snow had fallen that maybe they had to find just the right spot to feel protected from the weather. We started post holing almost right away, knowing the snow was bound to get deeper as we climbed higher. We knew we had a challenge ahead, but the bluebird day was not going to allow us to abandon our idea. We were all warm enough and all of us had Altra Lone Peaks on our feet. The traction was ideal for the conditions and with gaiters keeping some of the snow out and wool socks on our feet, the set-up was better than a stiff pair of hiking boots, or even snow boots. No traction devices are needed in snowy conditions with the good lug soles of the Lone Peaks and the flexibility they allow for good, secure foot placement. The wide toe box gives lots of room for a thicker wool sock in the cold. I have worn my Lone Peaks for all of my winter adventures with great success.

     We took turns post holing and making tracks for the others to follow. The camaraderie and team work was nice. Lisa is a tough lady and she led the way first. Ras made great tracks for us as we made our way around the frozen lakes, following tracks from two different cougars and looking around us on the high rocks to see if one of the beauties might be observing us from up there. I led the way along the canyon rim as we traversed along it for the final climb of the loop. Then we reached the main trail again and began the 3 mile descent to our parked car, where a thermos of hot coffee and vegan chocolate chip cookies were waiting. 

    The post holing continued up higher, but gradually, as we got lower the snow depth lessened to a point where we could begin a run. It felt floaty and freeing as we picked up the pace and ran through the snow. The technical ground underfoot was completely covered in snow and we were able to fly down. Lisa disappeared around the corner and I marveled at what an awesome trail runner she has become in such a short time. Having healed up in the autumn from some knee issues, she switched to zerodrop shoes, changed to a natural running form, and is now doing really well on the trails. She can't seem to get enough and is running 20 milers regularly on the snowy country roads around her home.

     I love that in the sport of adventuring we can help inspire and push each other. Now that Lisa is running, I find myself trying to come up with new ideas for what we can do together and she is always game. I helped inspire her to get to the point where she could run again and in turn, her running has helped me to amp it up to the next level. We do this with skiing and finding local peaks to climb too. Tomorrow, we will ski all of the trails in our local nordic ski park, which will total about 35 miles.  The challenges are endless, and with the support and companionship of a friend, they are all possible. "Zero Limits" can mean to each of us what we want it to mean, within our own realm of possibilities. It can change and expand over time. We can push ourselves to reach what we think are our limits and then go beyond. The kind of growth that results, has far reaching affects. 

From Sunny Pass to Bonaparte Mountain: Running in the High Hills

      Atop the snowy pass, we braced ourselves against the wind and pushed along the trail. We were on our way to a lake high in the Pasayten Wilderness, beyond Sunny Pass. My running buddy, Shona Hilton and I were out on a late September 14 miler and we had hit the first snowstorm of the season in this area. We had seen the forecast, so we were somewhat prepared, but not enough to keep looking for this mountain lake. We had already come up 5 miles and still had the down run. We had passed a cacophony of ravens and turkey vultures as they feasted on a carcass left behind, by what we were hoping was a hunter rather than a cougar kill. I had been slow to recognize what the the eerie cries of the scavenger birds meant as they circled in the sky, having been distracted from their meal by Shona and I passing through the forest.  The wind was blowing wet snow in our faces and the trail at our feet was getting increasingly more muddy and puddled as we ran.

     We had left early that morning and driven for 2 hours to reach the Iron Gate Trailhead in the Loomis Forest. The trail goes through an old burn area. Shona, Ras and I had ran through here in the summer during the wildflower season. It was nice to be here now and feel the contrast of the autumn season. The bushes were turning red, the larch needles were turning golden yellow and beginning to fall to the ground. The air temperature was chilly. We began in a wet drizzle, but as we climbed higher, we entered the snowy zone. We could see the white dusting on distant Windy Peak. This was the first run for Shona and I in these conditions this new season. It was very invigorating, but we knew we had to turn back before finding the lake with this threatening weather whirling around.

    It was fun running back down towards the trail head. We crossed little streams and danced among the rocks strewn all over the trail. The path was wide though and it was easy to find good foot placements. When we got back to the trail head, we saw an older couple from New Mexico who had been traveling since May, hiking trails all over the Pacific Northwest. They asked us if we'd take the garbage from the parking area with us, as they had just cleaned up a messy campsite someone had left behind. They figured we could help with this environmental effort, by hauling the bag off. Sure. Whatever. Shona is kinder than me and gladly obliged. 

     When we got back into Oroville, I got espresso for Shona and I at our local small-town stand. The coffee is mediocre at best and the service is rarely with a smile. It is nice to share a hot drink after a long, cold run though.

     Shona and I decided to get in one more long run before Baker Lake 50k. We had wanted to run around the 4th of July Ridge Trail that encircles Bonaparte Mountain. While up high on the trail, you reach a 1/2 mile spur trail to the Bonaparte Lookout and summit, so this makes the total run 15.5 miles with 3,800 feet of climbing. We knew it would be a great run for spending at least 5 hours on our feet and having some technical single track practice. 

     We started on crunchy, frosty trail at 7:30 in the morning. The sun was mixed with clouds and the air was cold and crisp. Shona led the way along the nicely cleared trail.  It was a cold start, but we began to warm up quickly. I stopped to shed layers and reminded myself that this is the time of year to start out on the trail cold. I always warm up quickly and then have to break my rhythm by stopping shortly in to strip off layers I no longer need. These are the lessons to remember when the seasons are transitioning.

     It was nice to be out running on this trail. I had hiked it with my friend Lisa just 2 weeks prior, after having several bouts of pancreatitis through the later part of the summer. I didn't know when I'd be able to get out on runs again, or if I'd be able to run Baker Lake. I had originally signed up for the 100k distance at Baker Lake, but dropped to the 50k after these painful abdominal episodes forced me to cut back on training. I was grateful to be feeling normal now, running along behind Shona as if these pains had never come around.

     We reached the summit and enjoyed the views from this 7,257 foot perch. We could see the Canadian mountains, the Okanogan Highlands and its dry pasture lands, small surrounding hills and the distant Kettle Crest Range. After a snack and a few photos, it was time to descend back down to the main trail. We had about 5 1/2 miles to go to get around the rest of Bonaparte. This side of the mountain was damper with several creek crossings. The forest flora was different. This change in terrain kept us moving forward at a good pace. The wild raspberries were gone and the fall colors drew my eye off of the trail. Sometimes its amazing to see the vivid colors of nature, especially in this season where life is preparing for the cold of winter to come on. 

     I kept up a good amount of energy on this run by snacking on tempeh strips I had prepared at home ahead of time. I also had a soy cheese quasadilla on a whole wheat tortilla, Justin's almond butter pouch, Gu Chomps, Hammer Cafe Latte Perpetuem and a newer product called Fuel 100 Electro-Bites in Salty Vanilla. They tasted good as I shared them with Shona on one of the sweet mossy bridges. Electro-Bites' slogan is "Fuel the Miles" and they are made with coconut oil. They are also gluten and soy free.  I didn't know much about them when I pulled the extremely light weight package from my pack and offered some to Shona. She loved them immediately and she sometimes is particular about what she can stomach on a long run. She liked their salty and non- offensive aftertaste. We both liked how easy them were to eat because they simply dissolve in your mouth. Shona messaged the company with praises of the energizing little snack and they sent her their newest flavor to try before anyone else, Pumpkin Spice, a packet for each of us. I am looking forward to pulling them out at just the right moment on my next long run.

      Shona and I both stayed strong to the end of our loop run. We finished in just under 6 hours. We both felt confident that we could run Baker Lake the following weekend. We knew it would have its challenges, its high points and low points. That is what running an ultra marathon is all about. We always go into them with big question marks about what obstacles might appear for us to conquer. If we knew ahead of time, it just wouldn't have the same appeal. Sometimes the challenges are mental and sometimes they are physical. Defeating either during hours spent moving through nature along a trail, has healing benefits a runner will experience well beyond the finish line.   
            

Running Local: It's a Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood

Running Local: It's a Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood

By Kathy Vaughan

     Hitting the ground hard, I was now suddenly both awake and surprised. I had tripped on the frozen, rutted mud only 2 minutes into my 31 mile self-supported training run. I had no choice but to shake it off, my right knee and elbow now skinned. I was due to meet my friend and running partner Shona Hilton and there was no time for delays. She would join me for some middle miles on this day of running. She lives just 5 miles away at the other end of the dirt road I live on with my husband Ras. This road is called Dry Gulch and it goes through quite an array of conditions throughout the year. The area is the Okanogan Highlands of North Central Washington at 3,500 feet in elevation.

     Right now, we are experiencing spring break-up. Snow has been covering the ground for months and now the temperatures are warming. Dry Gulch is great for driving when its compact snow and ice, manicured regularly and sanded by the snow plow driver. It then goes through a muddy stage when the snow melts, where even the best 4-wheel drive has to be fought with to keep on the road. After the mud dries, it leaves deep ruts, freezing at night in the early spring. During the day it becomes dust, referred to by locals as “moon dust”. Next comes the crazy “washboard” a wavy, rutted road surface which causes you to fishtail if you get up to even 30 mph.. The road is then horrible for running. A passing car kicks up more dust than is safe to breathe. The grader works to repair the washboard throughout the spring and summer, but dust is always there.

     On this day, the conditions were actually great for Dry Gulch. Frozen in the morning, the mud would be soft by mid day. Enough of the road had dried out that I could choose whether or not to run in the mud. My plan was also to get off of Dry Gulch for part of the run. I would enjoy some time on the forest service road that neighbors the 40 acre piece of property where Ras and I live in a rustic lodge we caretake. There is wonderful running, biking and cross-country skiing on this road, which doubles as a section of the Pacific Northwest Scenic Trail. Locals head up the road in the wintertime on snowmobiles. This makes a great pack for running or skiing. I was looking forward to running on it after some dirt road miles, knowing it would feel softer on my feet and be awesome to get away from any possibility of a passing car. Unfortunately, my favorite trails were still too snowy for running.

     Earlier in the week I had been looking at my Bryon Powell Training Plan for a 100 Mile Race. I noticed that at the end of Week 14 ,which I was currently in, I would need to run a 50k distance. Not being signed up for an official 50k race, it would be up to me to put together the route and run it on my own. Ras would be busy working his job as a carpenter, so he would not be able to join me. Pigtails Challenge 100 Miler around Lake Youngs in the Renton area, my first 100 mile race, was happening Memorial Day Weekend no matter what. I was determined to stick to my plan. It was actually fun to brainstorm all of the possible routes I could run to reach that mileage goal. I knew my biggest challenge would be to stay motivated for all of those miles on my own. Mixing up the terrain would be key to keeping it fun.

     The morning was cold and quiet as I ran. I soon saw Shona up ahead, moving towards me as we had planned and that made me smile. She called out “Good Morning” in her cute, Scottish accent. We kept on running to the end of Dry Gulch and then turned alongside a little creek, now visibly flowing after being covered in a layer of ice all winter. In the summer, cows range freely in here, mucking up the creek. It begins to smell like cow pies and the creek water is greenish brown. Right now, the water was looking clean and fresh, running through the snowy banks along its sides. This area would change drastically in only a few months. 

      Shona and I could see Bonaparte Mountain off in the distance and we chatted about the Bonaparte Ultra Ras and I are putting together for the weekend of July 6^th. What distance will we run? We should do hill repeats to train for the big climb to the lookout. We can run it faster this year with another season in us. Isn't it cool that Van Phan and Deby Kumasaka want to come run it? (Huge inspirations to Shona & I, Deby ran seven 100 milers last year and Van won the Washington Grand Slam & the women's division of the Pigtails Challenge 200 miler) They'll love it! . . . .  Ultra runners often spend at least some of their time running talking about other ultra runs they want to do and other ultra runners. Its pretty normal.

     We were on a 3.2 mile out n'back section. Then Shona would run back towards my car/aid station with me on Dry Gulch, to her turn around point. We could see the hardy neighbor ladies up ahead, regular walkers no matter what the weather, both in their early 70's. It took a while to gain on them and I was impressed with their pace. Nothing goes unnoticed in a country neighborhood and sure enough one of the ladies had seen me run by solo earlier and wondered why I now had a partner. One of their dogs was pretty unfriendly towards me, so Shona and I said goodbye and went our separate ways.

M.O.N.T. member and training partner Shona Hilton

     In less than a mile, I was back to my car. I drank half of a refreshing Red Bull, one of my indulgences during endurance efforts, and then decided to get my dog Jesse from the house. He would be fun to have along for some miles, but he was getting too old to join me for all 31. He was very happy indeed and we took off to run the other end of Dry Gulch road, a 4 mile out n'back section. We passed by Eden Valley Guest Ranch in its idyllic setting and another creek, flowing swiftly with snow melt. When I got done with that 4 miles, it was time to hit the snowy forest service road. Jesse loves this kind of running, so it would be fun to keep him with me. I'd completed a little over 15 miles at this point in my run.

     I spent 2 ½ hours in the forest, running on the snowmobile pack. Sometimes the snow was too soft and one or the other foot would sink down up to my knee, “postholing”. This would sometimes catch me off guard and I would fall. I actually enjoyed this though and settled into the idea that my traveling was now quite a bit different than it had been before. The sun was shining. I felt warm and comfortable. I could see young, bright green pines coming up in the old burn area where I was now running. Off in the distance, the rugged and rocky face of Haley Mountain was towering over the scene. I wondered about an access trail to the summit. I was moving towards its base and would then turn, running a 5 ½ mile lollipop trail through forest service land. Some of this trail is a part of the Highlands Halloween Hundred Trail Adventure Run (H3) that Ras and I hold Halloween weekend in October. I took a short break in here, nibbling on a nut mix.

     The snow continued to soften as I ran. By the time I got out to Dry Gulch again, I was postholing on almost every step. I welcomed the road. I was happy with how my Altra Lone Peak trail running shoes were performing in these mixed conditions, transitioning easily from helping me keep good traction in the snow & mud, to giving me the support I needed on the hard pack dirt. I ran ¼ mile or so to get back to my car again. Each time I got there, it was easy to change out water bottles or clothing layers, have something to eat, and resupply my Nathan running vest with Cliff Blocks, nuts and new Perpetuem bottles (a liquid, vegan nutrition drink I can easily sip while running, made by Hammer Nutrition). 

     I felt just right all day in a hat and gloves. I dried my sweaty gloves out in the car between visits. A merino wool sweater with a thermal running hoodie was necessary, even though the sun kept poking through. There was enough of a breeze to keep it a little cool all day. Now it was time to run Jesse back up to the house. The driveway was muddy and snowy. Intermittent puddles made for creative footing. This was the most technical section of the run! Our driveway is ¼ of a mile long, so this would add a half mile onto my route. Jesse was ready to be done and he went inside to lap up some water and lay down on his cozy bed. I was off for more running.

     Now I would repeat the 4 mile section of Dry Gulch. I felt good and relaxed, the benefits of so many hours of running through nature. With the spring melt, birds were returning to the highlands and I had seen my first robins and mountain bluebirds of the season. A bald eagle was perched high in an aspen, watching for the afterbirth the cows had been leaving behind. The sweet melodies of meadowlarks were nice to hear throughout the dirt road running. The mountain chickadees were singing their tunes also, preferring the forest with its large fir & tamarack trees.

     I needed some more mileage after my 4 mile out n'back, so I went back up the snowy road into the forest service land. I felt grateful to be able to mix up the terrain I was running on and enjoy the quiet peacefulness that I felt as soon as I entered the forest. I ran up the road for ½ hour and then turned around. Back at the driveway, all that was left of my adventure was to check the mailbox ¼ mile away, run up the messy driveway and back down the final ¼ mile to the car.

     The calm of late afternoon was surrounding me now. I felt a stillness in me like this time of day has, when activity comes to a close and dusk has not quite settled. The remaining daylight brought with it a sense of everything being just right. I had finished my self-supported ultra training run. It had been really fun and not as challenging as I thought it would be. During this same season, 2 years ago, I was just beginning trail running. I would steadfastly refuse to run the driveway at the beginning and end of runs for some reason, no matter how much Ras gently prodded. Now as Ras pulled up, finishing his work day, he was just in time to see me come running down the muddy driveway, a coincidence we could not have planned. 

     Done running for the day, I could now go in by the woodstove, warm up and cook a delicious meal of tofu scramble. Its really awesome being able to put together my own ultra distance run right out my front door. Turns out, staying happy and engaged in a run in my own neighborhood is not a problem after all.

My Ultrarunning Gear/Favorite Stuff List:

1. Nathan running vest (I have 2 sizes, depending on the distance & support available)
2. Nathan hand bottle with a spare bottle (or 2) filled & packed in my vest; if I will be filtering water, I bring a Sawyer water filter
3. Nathan 10 ounce flasks with Hammer Perpetuem, each flask holding a 2 hr. supply
4. Justin's nut butter pouches; baggies of nuts or seeds; peanut butter sandwich on sprouted grain bread; homemade peanut butter & dark chocolate energy ball; avacado
5. Clif Blocks (although I'm currently switching to Gu Chomps for the amino acid benefit)
6. Injinji toe socks (completely prevents blisters for me)
7. Altra Lone Peaks trail running shoes (zero drop design has been great for ankle stability & healing)
8. Smart Wool quarter zip, mid-weight merino wool sweater (perfect for layering, year round)
9. Brooks Thermal Running Hoodie (awesome warm outer layer with pocket for mp3 player)
10. KT brand kinesiotape (taping on both ankles has been giving me great support & confidence after having been prone to ankle rolls)
11. Black Diamond Z Poles (for runs with lots of climbing)
12. mp3 player loaded with Raggae Dancehall mixed tapes

Highlands Challenge #2: Diamonds In The Snow

By Kathy Vaughan


     The promise of sunshine and warmer temperatures helped my friend Lisa and I choose this day for our second Highlands Challenge of the season. We would ski all of the trails in the Highlands Sno Park in the Okanogan Highlands in one go, a total of 30 miles of skiing. This would be our 3^rd ultra-distance ski.

     But on this early morning, the sky was gray and the temperature remained cold when Lisa and I met at the trailhead at 7:30. Lisa is a great cross-country skiing partner. We have a lot in common, like following a vegan diet and enjoying what grows from the earth. She makes wonderful soaps and pine needle baskets. We first met at a local winter ice fishing festival several years ago. I was selling little scrap fabric & wool dolls that I make while she was vending her wares. 

     During the summers, she works on trails. She heads out into the Pasayten Wilderness, carrying everything she needs on her back plus a huge cross-cut saw and clears the trees that have come down across the trails over the winter. She goes out for 9 day stretches at a time, no matter what the weather. Early season can mean traveling through lots of snow and making her way across waist high, early season creeks, swift with snow melt. My 19 year old daughter Angela went out on her first ever “hitch” with Lisa last summer and no matter what their circumstance (traversing a snowy slope under a cornice of snow, coming across a wolverine, unhappy to see them) she said Lisa always held her cool. That has proven to be true. She always has a smile on her face.

My excellent ski partner Lisa.

     We decided to start our ski in the lower meadow as icy conditions might still be hanging on higher up from the overnight cold. My large capacity Nathan vest was loaded with 2 water bottles; a bean burrito; soy jerkeys; 2 Hammer Perpetuem flasks; chocolate peanut butter balls to share, which I had made special for the trip; toe warmers; a space blanket; a small first aid kit; a ziplock with tums, ibuprofen and ginger chews; and a down puffy jacket. We would pass by our cars in the afternoon and at that time I would pick up my headlamp and sternum light, change into dry socks, have a sip of hot coffee from my thermos, pick up some new trail food, and refill my water bottles. I had a dry merino wool sweater and a thermal running jacket to change into if I needed. I could also grab a heavier pair of gloves for later in the day skiing. I knew Lisa had made similar preparations, which made me feel comfortable.

     As it turned out, it was very icy and stayed that way for the time it took us to ski the area of the park I call the Antoine side. This section sits at the base of Bonaparte Mountain and is in sight as you climb up to 4,600 feet, the highest point in the park. The Antoine Loop itself is 8.6k and then all kinds of trails meander and connect the outer loop. This made for some repeats of certain sections of trail. Overall, we felt very organized in our route compared to completely winging it our first time we took on this challenge.

     Skiing in icy conditions is sketchy. We had both chosen to use our lighter weight nordic skis rather than our shaped, Fischer back-country skis. The ones we left behind would have given us more control on the downhill and more surface for climbing. As it was, our narrow skis were skittery and loud as we wedged until our quads burned on the downhill and used every technique we knew for the climbing-herringbone, scooching, simply lifting our skis in a type of walking movement and sometimes even sidestepping up crazy steep hills. My ankles and arches were getting tired from all of the angles I kept having to use with my feet. It was challenging and yet still fun to be out in the snow and fresh air. The idea of waiting for a better day was not, in our minds, a possibility. We would keep on moving forward. The date being March 4^th made it perfect.

     After completing the Antoine side, we skied down a narrow, windy and steep trail with barb wire fencing on either side. This trail is called “Goshawk” and in good conditions is one of my favorites. In the ice, it was exciting! We soon passed a barrel of tar, peeled poles soaking in it that would later be used as fence posts. This was an interesting trail side scene. You never know what you might see in this remote, yet mostly well-groomed, nordic park. We later skied by an old piece of logging equipment with a wooden cab.

     We bottomed-out in a meadow, the sun now shining. The tracks the groomer had set made for fast skiing on this softening trail. We were headed for “Ranger's Run”, a steep Black trail (Most Difficult) in the park's rating system. At the top of the short climb, was a sweet little meadow with distant views of the North Cascades. It was time to stop for a break and I knew just the tree. We stopped at the base of a huge pine. I had stopped here once before on a solo ski, noticing that I could sit on the lowest branch and lean back against the tree while I ate lunch.

Lisa studying the map for the Whitetail side.

     This time of winter, the snow begins to melt out from underneath trees and large rocks. These are nice places to rest for a minute, or make any adjustments. I love these spots. After months of being surrounded by a deep blanket of snow, it evokes all the feelings that come with early spring to see the earth, dried grasses and bare rock now showing.

     After leaving the tree, we had only the drop from the meadow on icy trail under trees (which usually means lots of debris & small ice chunks) and a short hill to climb to reach our cars. Careful skiing got us down just fine.

     We'd been on the trail 6 hours and 20 minutes by the time we got to the small parking area. It was nice to put on dry socks and enjoy some hot coffee. I was glad to be off of the icy Antoine side and had noticed earlier in the morning that Jack, the groomer, had been out. I was ready to see where he had been, knowing that anything he groomed would be in better shape and make for funner, faster skiing. I grabbed a couple more chocolate peanut butter balls, a small ziplock of wasabi almonds and changed out my Perpetuem bottles. Lisa had been sharing her chewy dried bananas with me. I knew it would be important to keep nibbling on food to have the energy for skiing.

     This side of the park I call the Whitetail side. We started out again on the other side of that same lower meadow where hours earlier we had begun our day. The tracks were fast and we made good time on our approach to a trail called “Hej Bue”. Not being clear on how to pronounce it, my goofy husband Ras likes to call it “heggie booie”. This would take us to a slightly higher meadow “Sunshine Meadow” and then a technical, slow climb up “Twista Vista”, which most skiers like to come down rather than climb. On this icy day, we chose to climb it.

     Of course when we got to the start of Twista, we could clearly see where Jack had been with the groomer and coming down it would have been a blast. Oh well. We began to climb, wrenching our ankles as we herringboned and maneuvered up these banked switchbacks. At least the snow was churned up enough from the groomer for us to have good conditions for climbing. I thanked Jack many times both out loud and in my head. After many hours on the trail either running or skiing, I often just talk out loud, sometimes shout.

     At the top, we were gifted with an awesome downhill. It was well earned and greatly appreciated. It felt good to fly freely and smell the damp trees in the creek bottom as the descent ended. Now one short, fun and well-groomed out n'back and then the 3.6k climb to the turn around point. At the turn around, it would be all downhill to our cars.

Kathy on the final climb.

     The climb was long and tedious, but towards the top we could glide along with less effort as the intensity of the slope lessened. Before we knew it we had reached the top of our final climb in our 30 mile day. I was happy and let out one of those carefree shouts of joy, ski poles thrust into the air. No one else had climbed up to here today and it was a blast to take off down the hill on the fresh corduroy. I was filled with glee as I skied, my mind relaxed, feeling at one with my surroundings. It was just turning to dusk and a few stars were starting to show. The wind had died down and all was quiet. Lisa and I skied down the road to our cars from the upper lot after completing the Whitetail side and our 2^nd Highlands Challenge of the season. Slowly and carefully we made our way along the shoulder of the plowed forest service road and lost the last of the light as we finished. We had skied for 10 hours and 10 minutes.

     I always have some comforts ready to grab easily when I finish a day on the trail. This time I had a blanket to sit on & one to wrap around me, the rest of my thermos of coffee, cozy wool- lined boots to slide my worn feet into and new memories dancing through my head. 

      Last week I had been on a ski trip in the Rendezvous Mountain area near Mazama, in the foothills of the North Cascades. Lisa had been along and another gal Rise', who wrote a cool little bluesy tune on her guitar called “Diamonds in the Snow” for all of us. She sang it throughout our stay in the cabin. Lisa and I had remembered it earlier in the day as we skied. The snow sparkles likes diamonds in the sunlight of day, but now, sitting in the dark, all that sparkled were the stars outside and a sense of peace inside.