Showing posts with label Lisa Eversgerd. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Lisa Eversgerd. Show all posts

Tuesday, February 28, 2017

Methow Winter Ski Retreat

Challenge, Ceremony, and Connection:
A Methow Winter Ski Retreat

By Kathy Vaughan
                                            

photo by Kathy Vaughan/UltraPedestrian.com
     I had a full week off from my weeding job and the organized annual cross country ski trip in the Methow would begin on Tuesday. Also on Tuesday, Lisa and I would begin tallying kilometers skied, towards accomplishing our 2nd Methow Trails 200k Challenge (skiing 200k of the Methow Trails in a single season). By Saturday night, allowing us five days and four nights, Lisa and I hoped to have this challenge conquered. I devised a plan to drive to the Okanogan Highlands to visit Lisa first, in the small town of Chesaw, on Saturday.  This meant an eight hour drive over a mountain pass, and on mostly snowy roads after that, until I reached my friend Lisa’s home, almost at the Canadian border. Near Lisa’s place, Ras and I own a five acre piece of land with a creek and a cabin. Since I was driving over the mountains anyway, I wanted to check in on our place, do some skiing off of the groomed trails, enjoy some time with Lisa in her hand built sauna, and hopefully get in a long run on a snow-plowed country road. Lisa had offered to let me stay in her guest cabin on her garlic farm. She had it heated up and all ready for me, despite the bitter cold weather they had been having. This sounded like the perfect way to turn this whole pre-Rendezvous Huts time, into a winter retreat.

     Conditions of Steven’s Pass looked sketchy from reports, so I decided to take the longer but lower, and safer route. I drove off the north end of Whidbey Island and took I-5 south to I-90 and headed east. It would take longer, but it would allow me to take the lower in elevation pass through the Cascades, Snoqualmie. Stevens Pass was more direct but was requiring traction tires while Snoqualmie was bare and dry thanks to it being 1000 feet lower in elevation. Conditions were quite a bit better, although still wintery.  I also decided to avoid Blewett Pass and eventually turned north up through Soap Lake and Ephrata. A long, solo drive like this in the winter, was a big mental challenge for me; one I was determined to overcome. 


photo by Kathy Vaughan/UltraPedestrian.com

     When I finally pulled up at Lisa’s, I could see smoke coming from the sauna chimney. Her husband Jason had been getting the sauna heated up for us already. I stepped out of the car into the shockingly cold air and immediately realized how serious the goal of skiing 200k this coming week was. I reached back into my car and fumbled for gloves, my warmest hat and my down puffy. Any time outside looking for gear in my car was going to be a challenge. I was happy I was as organized as I was. 

     Lisa led me back to the cabin that farm volunteers and guests use when visiting she and her husband Jason on their organic farm. They grow mostly garlic, but also enough fruit and veggies to preserve and keep them eating their farm food all year round.  The small cabin was warm and cozy inside. I was going to enjoy having this space to myself for the next couple of days, and yet also being able to sauna and ski with my Adventure Bestie. 


photo by Kathy Vaughan/UltraPedestrian.com

     Lisa, Jason, their dog Lucy and I all had a great backcountry ski the following day on the acreage around their home. We spent about four hours skiing through the growth of huge spruce, pine and aspen trees. We skied past a creek with a restoration project in progress. A small black bird called a Dipper was pecking at the frozen banks of the creek. The bird’s presence was a good sign of the habitat being hospitable and offering the nourishment that it needs. That made us all happy.


photo by Kathy Vaughan/UltraPedestrian.com

     Back at Lisa and Jason’s, we enjoyed a dinner of Lisa’s homemade veggie curry. We took another sauna at the cord wood structure they built themselves down by the same creek we had skied past earlier in the day. The whole experience was just what my spirit needed. And this was just the beginning of the week. 

     The following day, Lisa had to work at the small country store about three miles away. I had a hard time deciding whether to run or ski and so I decided to do a route that would incorporate both. I also wanted to visit Lisa at the store later in the day. Jason planned on making us vegan pesto pizza for dinner and I definitely wanted to work up a good appetite for that! 


photo by Kathy Vaughan/UltraPedestrian.com

     I drove to a pullout on a nearby country road. From here, I could ski and run a loop that would probably take about four hours in the deep snow. I got my Nathan VaporAiress pack loaded up with a few extra layers, some snacks and my Altra FKT’s I’d been wear-testing. The shoes are now on the market and called the King Mountain instead. They have the burliest tread on any shoe of Altras and I’m crushing on them hard right now. The deep snow made the skiing slow in my Fisher OutBounds. I skied through this Grouse Preserve for many winters, when Ras, Angela and I lived in our cabin. My plan today, was to ski through the preserve to the road, where I would cross over to our snowed-in driveway that leads back to the cabin, and change into my running shoes. I would have a couple of miles to run, on snowy country roads, before completing the loop back at my car.  I was filled with gratitude that I had the opportunity to ski/run this loop, and was also filled with nostalgia and an appreciation for how far I’ve come with my adventuring. Skiing solo through this preserve land used to be a pretty big deal.

    I stopped by the small store to visit with Lisa on my way back to her place. It was fun to experience the rural culture. While Lisa is working, a worn table near the pellet stove becomes a center of Highlands discussions. Her coworker and two other local ladies, one whom I’d known for years, were at the table when I walked in.  Geared up with my Zoned Heat jacket and tights, my King Mountain running shoes, and other pieces of warm gear I was still wearing post-loop adventure, I became a curiosity. I answered the questions about all the gear, while ideas of how to put together a shoe drive of some kind in this area danced through my head. I’m still working on this one.

photo by Kathy Vaughan/UltraPedestrian.com

     That night, Lisa and I did some baking together and finished packing for our two hour drive to the Methow the following day. It was time for the Rendezvous Ski Hut portion of my getaway to begin. I said good night to Lisa and headed back to the guest cabin for my final night there. I brought all of my gear bags inside to make final preparations and then fell soundly asleep.

     The Following day Lisa and I skied up from the Cub Creek Parking Lot with a group of ladies. For many years, I had joined an eclectic group of Okanogan women on a Rendezvous Ski Hut Trip. River Jones had been the first to invite me along on one of these special winter outings. We normally stayed in either the Gardner Hut or the Grizzly Hut, and this year Grizzly it would be. There would be seven of us: Lisa, my adventure bestie from Chesaw, where Ras and I have a cabin on five acres; Melanie, a retired R.N., fun, fit and feisty, who has been on all of the hut trips I’ve been on over the years; Rise, also a retired R.N. who had worked with Mel for years, and brings her guitar to sing soft, soulful tunes in the background while lively lady chatting is going on; Dani, a spirited, young mom of two, a lovely, athletic lady and a good cook; Cassandra, a sweet, soulful mom of a teenage daughter, a grad student and an all- around beautiful & caring woman; and a new friend to me, Erin, a warm gentle healer, easy to be around with deep blue eyes. All of us have partners, so this lady time getaway was very special. 

photo by Kathy Vaughan/UltraPedestrian.com

     The group of us skied Cougar Bait to Cub Creek, 1.7k & 3k. We took Cow Creek to the Rendezvous Basin for 5.1k. Lisa and I had split off at this point and we continued down the Rendezvous Basin for 2.4k to Grizzly Way for 1.1k to the Grizzly Hut spur trail for .5k. We were staying at Grizzly Hut for three nights and would ski back to the parking lot on Friday.  Later, after a wonderful Apple, Squash and Ginger Soup dinner by Dani, Lisa and I went back out into super cold temps, likely below zero, and very strong winds. We took the spur trail and Grizzly Way to Gunn Ranch Road where we skied an out n’ back to the Gunn Ranch parking lot for an additional 11k. We then returned to the hut for some sleep. Our day’s total was 27.7k.

     I woke up hungry on the second day. Cassandra made a savory breakfast of polenta, fresh garlic and stewed tomatoes. It really hit the spot. Lisa and I hung out at the hut with the ladies, visiting and sipping coffee. We all left together to ski the Cassal Hut Loop by way of the Rendezvous Basin and then Cassal Creek Loop to Cassal Hut spur. We ate lunch there and then headed back out the spur trail, Cassal Creek Loop, in the opposite direction, the “Black” descent to Rendezvous Basin. Lisa and I said goodbye to the other ladies here and continued on our way to do the Cougar Mt. Loop. This loop offers lots of curvy, steep downhill stretches and I couldn’t wait to ski those. I was wearing my larger and heavier Fischer skis. Lisa was in her lightweight skis. We continued on Rendezvous Basin Trail for 3k to reach the basin where Cougar Mt. Loop turns off. We skied the 4.6k loop and connected to Cow Creek. Cow Creek took us back to the Rendezvous Basin and back to the Grizzly Hut for dinner.


photo by Kathy Vaughan/UltraPedestrian.com

      It was our turn to prepare the shared meal and we were making Pad Thai. Lisa led the cooking and I chopped, diced, made the salad and set the table. The ladies loved it and it was delish. It hit the spot. Lisa shared chocolate covered dried mango for dessert. 

     After dinner, it was time for Lisa and I to head out for our night ski. The moon was bright enough to ski without headlamps as we had the night before. Some of the ladies joined us initially. Our plan was to ski the Grizzly Way Loop, 5.2k. I overdressed and got very sweaty underneath. This made me feel irritable and uncomfortable, not to mention nervous about being wet. It was super cold outside, single digits or colder. I got overwhelmed by our goal of skiing 200k in these temperatures. This was my first ski of the season and it was a huge goal I was undertaking. Hanging out in the warm cabin with the ladies sounded much nicer, and easier. I voiced some of my stresses to Lisa, verging on having a meltdown of sorts. I kept coming up with rationalizations as to why I was feeling pessimistic. She didn’t let me give up on the goal. She was assertive, yet kind. We went back to the hut with the ladies and I changed into dry clothing and made an attitude adjustment.

photo by Kathy Vaughan/UltraPedestrian.com

     We went back out and skied the Cassal Hut loop again, in the opposite direction. We skied the Grizzly Way Loop a total of three more times too. This was instead of our initial plan to ski the Fawn Creek Trail down to Mazama and back. This had felt overwhelming to me. Lisa also encouraged me to change into my lighter weight skis. I needed to have faith in my skiing ability. The lighter weight skis give me only slightly less control. I can ski well in my Karhus and they allow me the ability to ski in the tracks, using less energy and going faster. This all worked well that night and we had a lovely ski. I never got wet, cold or uncomfortable again. I could go fast in the tracks and my feet felt so much better in my boots. It was awesome and a game changer. We had skied 34.4k that day and it was time for some sleep.

     On our 3rd day, Lisa and I had coffee and a quick breakfast with the ladies before heading out to ski the Cassal Hut loop. We planned on connecting with the group somewhere during their ski trip to the Rendezvous Hut.  We met the ladies as they were skiing down the spur trail from the hut. Ben, the owner of the Rendezvous Hut system had built a fire up there, but the hut had not quite warmed up. We skied back out to the bottom of the spur to touch base. They were all cold so we said a quick goodbye as they headed off towards the hut. We decided to ski up to the Rendezvous Hut to take advantage of the warm fire Ben had built. We figured the fire would be warm by the time we got up there, and it was. We both were very grateful for the warmth the stove provided, and that we were able to come inside and enjoy it. We pulled up a bench in front of the woodstove and ate our lunch.


photo by Kathy Vaughan/UltraPedestrian.com

      Our plan from here was to continue on to the Heiffer Hut and then get back to our own hut in time to have dinner with the ladies. This route is called the Cedar Creek Loop. It is unique in that it passes through a couple of creek drainages where cedars are growing. This is unusual to the forests of the Methow. I love the rich fragrance of the Cedar Creek drainage as the trail dips down into it, making a sharp curve through the dark, thick forest. A total accumulation of 14.7k would get us back to the bottom of the Rendezvous Hut spur trail again. We would then have the 2.4k descent to the Grizzly Way and 1.6k to the hut.  The Cassal Hut loop was 12.4k. This would give us a total of 29.5k.  

     The home cooked soup made by Mel was a delicious cream of broccoli soup made with cashew milk. Rise put together a lovely veggie platter, complete with avocado slices. A big green salad was also served. The next plan was to head back out for a full moon ski with the ladies. We skied the 5.2k Grizzly Way Loop. Lisa and I planned on continuing on without the ladies,after heading back to the hut for boysenberry pie and a full moon ceremony. Erin, Cassandra and Dani had organized a sweet little ceremony to honor the Full Moon and the New Year. We washed our hands in warm hibiscus water, made our own individual intentions and heard poetry from Cassandra. We stood together, in the moonlight, ski sisters so to speak. 

     Rise, Mel, Lisa and I really appreciated the younger ladies in our group, creating this fresh youthful energy. Our group represented the 30’s, 40’s 50’s and 60’s. When I first began joining the Rendezvous Ski Hut trips, I was the youngest, listening to stories of menopause and the wisdom of the ladies older than me. Now, I was the 3rd from the oldest. Menopause was behind me and I was sharing stories from the perspective of being the mother of a homeschooled 23 year old daughter, now serving in Madagascar in the Peace Corps.  Our group ski was the Grizzly Way Loop for a total of 5.2k. Then Lisa and I headed out to do the Gunn Ranch Rd out-and-back again, a total of 14k and an awesome ski. The whole valley was lit up by the moon. It was stunning scenery as far as the eye could see. For the day, we got 44.9 kilometers.

photo by Kathy Vaughan/UltraPedestrian.com

     The final morning in the hut had arrived. We cleaned up after ourselves, visited and had a pot luck breakfast. Then we all skied out together via Rendezvous Basin, Cougar Mt. Loop to Little Cub Creek to Cougar Bait, 15.4k. It was one of the best skis I’ve ever had downhill on cross country skis. Little Cub Creek is always a blast, but this time was pretty epic. I love this downhill trail with little curves and extended down; so, so fun!! I was super cold at the bottom and half way down started stressing out that I had left my car keys in the hut near where I had been sleeping. I grabbed my burlap bag, which had been overturned in the snowmobile ride, and frantically searched through it. My keys were buried in the bottom. “Yes!”, I cried out dramatically, thrusting my fists up into the air. I warmed up my car and changed into my Altra NeoShell Mids. I was just about ready to leave, when Cassandra walked over with my Fischer skis. I had totally forgotten to grab them from the pile of our gear Ben had snowmobiled down from the hut. They had even been right near my other gear, including my burlap bag. I had skied down on my Karhus and not even thought about my other skis. I thanked her and thought to myself that I had better focus a little better, considering the key thing and the rest of the ski challenge to pull off in a day and a half. 


photo by Kathy Vaughan/UltraPedestrian.com

     I followed Lisa into Winthrop. I left my car in the Barn parking lot and she drove us in her camper to Twisp, where she had some soaps to pick up from a business there. We then drove back to Winthrop to get my car and dropped her camper off at the Ice Skating Rink parking lot, where we would wind up at the end of our night ski. I drove us up to the Chickadee parking lot in the Sun Mountain trail system. This is where would do most of our night skiing. Our plan was to climb up Thompson Rd and ski down Meadowlark to join back up with Thompson Rd. We would then ski to my car, warm up, and have a few snacks. We would ski from there down the steep trail to the valley floor and into Winthrop.

     Once in the Chickadee Parking Lot, Lisa and I had a few organizational tasks to do before getting started for the night. It was very early evening, not yet dark. We could make some good progress up the Thompson Road climb before the sun set. The moon would light our way again later. But for now, we each settled into our own space, within our heads and on the road. There were two sets of tracks, one on either side of the wide corduroy trail. The conditions were good for the climb. We had 6.1k of persistent uphill to the pass at 3,650 feet in elevation. We started out at 2,620. 

     Layering properly was challenging, yet important for the entire time Lisa and I had been out skiing. The bitter, dry cold felt biting on descents. For uphill skiing though, it was surprising how few layers were needed. “Be Bold, Start Cold”, as the saying goes, was hard to implement in the single digit, and below, temperatures. Ras had lent me his puffy down jacket, as it is easier to stuff into a pack than my own heavier weight puffy. As it turned out, this was my layering savior. I was able to put it over the top of my Nathan VaporShadow pack. When I started heating up from the climbs, I could take it off easily and wrap it around my waist without having to stop for long. Each time Lisa and I stopped, we had to tend to each task quickly so as not to get cold. If we were stopped long enough, I could unwrap it from my waist and easily remove my pack, stashing it under the outside stretch cord, or stuff it into the open top. Ras’  jacket was ample enough on me that it fit down over my legs, helping to keep them warm too. The hood could stretch over my own big ear flap, furry hat and be pulled up over the top of my two merino wool buffs. Easily pulling hoods and buffs over your face while moving is an efficient layering technique in the cold, especially with wind as a factor as well. I use all of these face and head layers while trail running, fast packing and cross country skiing.  

     I listened to some music while climbing Thompson Road. The distraction and beat of the music helped. I enjoy listening to Reggae Dancehall, as I’ve mentioned in other blogs. I had a few new tunes such as Elliphant and Major Lazor’s new tune “Too Original” and Elliphant’s single “Only Getting Younger”, featuring Skrillex. Before I knew it, I was catching up to Lisa at the pass and it was time for some downhill. We would still have some gentle contouring along the Meadowlark Trail and even a few short climbs, but for the most part, we were going to have downhill for the rest of the night’s ski.

     Sometimes expectations of what kind of terrain lies ahead can interfere with my mental comfort level. There were some fun stretches of down mixed in with climbs and some gentle contouring for a long way. Lisa gained some distance on me and I skied along in the dark through dense trees, feeling alone in a mostly good way. I got glimpses of Lisa’s headlamp, as we did need them on this night for the first time during our ski challenge. Reaching the intersection with Thompson Road, Lisa and I connected with each other quickly, before beginning the 2.6k, 500 foot drop back down to the Chickadee Trailhead.

    Lisa took off fast. Her light skis had no drag and she flew off before I could really even get going.  I pushed and glided in the tracks to gain some speed and then skied out of them back onto the corduroy once I got momentum. I started skiing fast. It was exhilarating. Lisa was nowhere in sight and all around me was dark. I focused on the smooth trail ahead, trusting that I could open up on this well- groomed path. I was so relieved to have that climb done, to be getting back to the car. The ski into Winthrop would be all downhill and flat track skiing. I could do that any day. “Focus now, fly downhill, cover your face, wriggle your toes in your boots, wriggle your fingers in your gloves, you’ve got this.” These mantras floated through my head as I skied fast in the dark. 

     Then it was over. There was Lisa at the signed intersection, waiting for me so we could take the gentle trail back to the car. My eyes were watering from the fast skiing, the cold air, and for some reason, tears. I was flooded with emotion. I was happy to be getting closer to realizing our goal. I was full of adrenaline from that final downhill. I was stoked to be reunited with Lisa and so near the parking lot. We skied off together towards my car.


photo by Kathy Vaughan/UltraPedestrian.com

     Once there, we took some time to get ready for the 8.8k ski down to Winthrop and Lisa’s camper awaiting us at the Town Trailhead and Rink. Now I was completely relaxed and ready for the rest of the night’s ski. I ate some food while in the car, putting on some dry layers at the same time. Lisa and I left the comfort of the warm car and headed towards the Patterson Lake cabins.  The lake itself was blanketed in snow. The cabins were lit up and smoke was coming from their chimneys. It smelled good. We skied quietly past on the groomed trail and then took off our skies to cross the road. 

     We skied the Winthrop Trail with it’s fun S curves all the way down to the Methow Community Trail. We had 4k to ski through the fields, past a few homes, along the Methow River and into the skating rink parking area. Lisa and I turned off our headlamps once down the steep sections of trail. It was a beautiful night, skiing along peacefully, pleasantly. I got in the tracks and effortlessly cruised through my surroundings, at one with the cold winter scape.  Throughout the many hours of skiing I had been doing, I had often been able to enter this “zone” and it is one of the reasons I am drawn to hard endurance efforts such as this. This is when I feel alive. This is when I am at my best and feel the healthiest. One more day, and Lisa and I would be completing the Methow Trails 200k Challenge for the 2nd time, doing it all in a single big push. I don't think anyone else has done this. It felt exhilerating. 
     I skied up to the waiting Palomino camper, and took off my skies. The empty lot and the starlit sky amplified the feeling I was having of limitless possibilities.

       Lisa and I awoke at what felt like the spot where a winter wonderland turns into a pretty intense winter landscape; the final lot that one can drive to before Highway 20, or the North Cascades Highway, is closed to thru traffic for the season. The avalanche threat is too real for the Department of Transportation to keep this highway open during the winter. A post with a sign and a flashing light warns travelers to go no further. This is sad for me, because The Methow is only about four hours away from where I currently live, via this highway. Instead, I had to drive twice as far to access this magical paradise by way of I90 to get through the Cascade Mountain Range, and then miles and miles of snowy highway north, through central Washington.  

     The Subaru Lisa and I had seen the night before was still parked near us in the otherwise empty lot. There was a tarp laid out neatly beside the car with bins spread out on it. A mat was by one of the side car doors to step out onto without being directly on the snow. Whoever this was, they had camped in the snow before. They knew what they were doing. I got out of the camper to get into my own car at one point, and saw the guy who had been sleeping in the Subaru the night before. He was bundled up for the frigid temps and had on big down booties to walk around on the snow. He was casually eating breakfast at the folding table he had set up, the stove going with a pot of boiling water steaming on one of it’s burners. This was an impressive scene and Lisa and I discussed it. I assumed he might be catching one of the heli-ski rides we were hearing overhead. This area was known for it’s fabulous backcountry riding and it was possible this guy was hitting the slopes. He was gone before Lisa and I hit the trail.

      Our first destination was Doe Canyon. It was quiet and bitter cold. We bundled up and headed for the gentle climb into the canyon. I was looking forward to the ski out, mostly downhill for about 2k. It felt good to be starting our final day on the Methow Trails 200k Challenge. We had worked diligently and persistently to get to this point. We knew we had it if we just stuck to our plan and kept on skiing. We would be done before it was even too late at night. But now, as we skied along peacefully in the morning surroundings, I was in a wonderful zone and felt as though I could ski forever. I was unfamiliar with the trails in this upper Mazama valley floor. Lisa and I had skied it in the night when we completed the Methow Challenge two winters prior. An old wooden sign read “Old Growth Grove”. This all felt new and kept me pushing and gliding forward, looking all around so as to not miss anything. I saw where trees had been broken off at nearly the same height, everywhere I looked. I thought that possibly an avalanche had caused this, or a strong windstorm. Either of these events were possible in this rugged, mountainous zone. I soon saw a large wooden sign that said “Cassal Avalanche 1997”. This explained it all. I skied on, looking at more trees, broken off, as far as the eye could see. It was impossible for me to imagine the enormity of what had occurred here 20 years ago. 

     Finally through the avalanche zone, we were in an open, sunny meadow. I felt so grateful to be amongst such pristine, winter scenery, in the sunshine, accomplishing a huge goal. Lisa knew there would be a bench up ahead and we planned on taking a short break there. We had not been able to stop outside for any length of time during our entire ski. We would now have a chance to sit down and soak in some sunshine while having a bite to eat. It was all that I had looked forward to as I skied the last section to the bench. I took off my skis and plopped down on the dry surface. It felt so good to have the rays of sunshine fall on my outstretched legs. This was a wonderful moment.

photo by Lisa Eversgerd/UltraPedestrian.com

     A few more kilometers, and we would be at the Mazama Store. We wanted to fill our water bottles here and possibly get a hot drink or a snack. It was incredibly crowded and felt like the scene of a movie. Everyone was dressed just perfectly in cross country ski attire, LL Bean or Patagonia après ski wear, and anxious for something from the counter in the store. We used the restrooms and filled our waters then left for the solitude of the trails once again. The route was cruisy and pleasant as we skied the final four kilometers back to the parking lot. We saw a few other skiers, but for the most part, we made our way easily along the route. We had a short climb that rewarded us with a little bit of fun downhill. We skied through a tunnel underneath the Highway. Cold, hungry and happy, we got back to our vehicles. We began to warm them up as we took off skis and boots, changing into dry shoes for driving. 

     Lisa would drop her camper off at the Mazama parking area. This is where we would complete our Methow Trails Challenge. I would drive us to the Gunn Ranch parking area where we would begin our night ski. We would ski the 5.5k on the Gunn Ranch Road, and then connect with the Rendezvous Basin Trail. But first, we wanted to be sure we were ready with everything we needed in our packs for night skiing. We were finishing our hot drinks and snacking in my car at the Gunn Ranch parking area, the car running so the heat was blasting and keeping us warm in the cold early evening air. Lisa and I both have a fondness for this road; it would be our third time skiing it in this challenge. It had been so intense and windy our first night out. Now, it seemed inviting and familiar. The gentle climb of the road would warm us up quickly once we left the comfort of the car for our final ski of the challenge. Our bellies were full and we were bundled up appropriately. Our headlamps were ready, although most nights out we had not had to use them as the moon had lit our way. I locked up the car and we headed up the trail, the clear view of the valley below us. We were quiet, our thoughts internal as we glided easily up the trail. All of the usual landmarks helped lead the way. I noticed the pond for the first time. Aspen lined its outer banks. I remembered the salamanders Lisa and I had seen here during another ski challenge at night. It had surprised us to see them on top of the snow. Now, seeing the pond, it made only slightly more sense.

     We hit the intersection with the Rendezvous Basin Trail and took a left. Now it was time to gently cruise along, the main climb over with. We would have a 2k climb after some of the descent, a bit later on. We both figured that this would help to warm us up again after having gone downhill for a while. We skied along, nostalgia flowing through me as I remembered skiing all throughout here with the ladies earlier in the week. We had so much fun together. I saw the arch covered in snow that Dani had fallen in love with. I stopped to marvel at it once again and soak in the energy. It was so quiet. We were so alone out here. Everyone was tucked away in their warm huts or in ski lodges or personal residences down in the valley. It was even kind of crazy, but in a very magical and wonderfully intense way.

     The downhill finally came. Lisa took off ahead, flying on her lightweight skis. I lost sight of her headlamp. I kept a courageous spirit and skied along, alone in the dark, downhill. I flew fast at times, and at other times not as fast as I would have liked. Sometimes I could see Lisa’s light if there was a switchback in the trail. The descent was long, about 9k in total. I knew we would connect again, but for now, it was just me and the dark surroundings, my bright light leading the way. I loved the feel of the cold air, biting at my cheeks. I adjusted my wool buff around my face as needed, pulling it away if I wanted the air and covering my cheeks if it got too biting. Down, down I skied. Dropping lower and lower towards the valley floor, I could see the lights from homes down below. It looked so cozy and inviting. The lights were further away than they seemed. And now, suddenly, the climb was here.     

     I struggled a bit mentally with this. I got too warm, but didn’t want to stop and adjust layers. I climbed as strongly as I could, but I could not catch up with Lisa. It was not a big deal; we were each in our zone. This was kind of the crux of it all, the final climb after so many previous ones. I glided along pretty easily, the skis taking to the conditions quite well. I wasn’t backsliding or having to put much effort into moving uphill. It was just a long climb, deep into this ski adventure.

     Finally at the top of this 900 foot climb, it was time to push and glide and work some speed into the take off. I wanted to fly fast down the final descent. I wanted to feel the speed and have some fun curves on the way. This was it. Once in the valley, there would be no more long downhills. Once in the valley, it was time to just get in the tracks and push mindlessly along. The challenge would be over, and likely my skiing for the season as well. It was bittersweet. 

       The lights from the valley got closer and the cold bit harder into my face, my fingertips, my toes. I could see Lisa’s light far below me on the trail now, or was it a light from a cabin? Some lights looked close, like I was skiing right by a ski lodge. Others looked so far away, like I was not progressing downhill like I thought I was. And now another short, steep pitch to climb. The herringboning seemed like a technique long forgotten. What had I started doing with my skis? I hardly thought about it. Lisa had disappeared over the crest a while ago.  I flew down the fun black diamond trail called Goat Creek Cut-off and saw Lisa checking out the sign at the intersection below. The descent was complete. We were back in the Mazama Valley.

     I shivered and we cheered together. I told Lisa the easiest way back to the car from here was good for me. She led the way and we twisted and turned on easy trail for about 4k back to her Palomino in the lot in Mazama. Christmas lights lit up the small town, most homes lit only with these and some dim lamp light. It was just magical. I can’t stop thinking about it. I have to live there and ski all the trails all winter.  Yeah, I would work a little. But I have to find a way to ski Methow Trails, more. For now, I will reminisce of another Methow Trails 200k Challenge, completed in thru-ski style.  

     Lisa and I began the Methow Trails 200k Challenge on Tuesday, January 10th at 11:15 a.m. and completed it on Saturday, January 14th at 8:48 p.m.
We slept three nights in the Grizzly Hut in the Rendezvous Trail System and one night in the Palomino during the challenge.

photo by Kathy Vaughan/UltraPedestrian.com

    

Sunday, November 27, 2016

Olympic Coast Getaway

An Olympic Coast Getaway


By Kathy Vaughan
                                                                     
photo by Kathy Vaughan/UltraPedestrian.com     I ran along the gentle singletrack trail. Some sections were long stretches of boardwalk. I cruised along easily, Lisa and her husband Jason were behind me. I could hear the ocean as we got closer. The forest was thick with underbrush and packed with trees, a temperate rainforest along the upper Washington Coast, in the Olympic National Park. Salal, sword ferns, evergreen huckleberries, small hemlocks and other vegetation grew thick alongside the trail. There was a light drizzle. The air was pungent with the smells of the ocean and its shore.  The temperature was just about perfect for running in short sleeves and tights. The breeze off the sea was not too cold, as we approached it now, about mid-day.


photo by Kathy Vaughan/UltraPedestrian.com


     I had gotten off work about 3:30 on Friday afternoon and headed straight for the Coupeville ferry that crosses over to Pt. Townsend. From there, it would take about 3 ½ hours to reach Ozette Lake, the 3rd largest natural lake in Washington. This is where Lisa and I would begin our Coastal Adventure. We had initially planned on running the UltraPedestrian Wilderness Challenge Coastal Route, designed by Heather “Anish” Anderson for the 2014 UPWC. As we both researched the route, it became clear that November was not a good time to try it, especially since the Super Moon was creating extra high tides and Stormageddon in October had washed out roads throughout the park. Long stretches of muddy trail, high water levels for river and creek crossings, and the times for low tide (4:00 a.m. and 10:00 p.m.) also made for dicey planning. We decided to meet at Lake Ozette instead, and approach the coast from there. There are two trails that lead to the ocean from Lake Ozette, each of them three miles in length. At low tide, a triangle loop of nine miles can be formed by running to the ocean via either the Cape Alava Trail or the trail to Sandy Point, and then connecting the two of them by running three miles along the beach. 


photo by Kathy Vaughan/UltraPedestrian.com

     I arrived at Lake Ozette at nearly 11:00 p.m. It was pouring down rain as I pulled up to the campground and parked in the camping space behind Lisa and Jason in their Palomino camper. I would make a spot to sleep in the back of my Suzuki in order to stay warm and dry from the rain. But first, Lisa and I took her dog Lucy on a long midnight walk under umbrellas along the lonely road that runs beside Lake Ozette. It felt so good after a long drive to get out in the rain for a nice walk. The air smelled so fresh. At times, wind gusts came up so strongly that we had to put away the umbrellas. We made our plans for the next day as we hiked along, excited about spending a long day on the trails together.

photo by Kathy Vaughan/UltraPedestrian.com

photo by Kathy Vaughan/UltraPedestrian.com

     I slept soundly, then awoke and shared coffee with Lisa and Jason. He would join us for the first part of our run and then spend the rest of the time with Lucy at their camper. Lucy was not allowed on the trails since it was a national park. We decided to first run down to the ocean on the Sandy Point Trail.  Lisa and I generally run and ski in the mountains together. This would be our first adventure at the ocean. Lisa and Jason live in the Okanogan Highlands of north central Washington and were spending a two week vacation on the Olympic Peninsula. During the summer, we had planned on running the Coastal Route while they were in this neck of the woods on their vacation. Now, together in the enchanting rainforest, our earlier plans were coming to fruition.

photo by Kathy Vaughan/UltraPedestrian.com

     The trail was relaxingly gentle. I had anticipated the boardwalk stretches to be slippery and the going slow, and at first it was. But as I ran peacefully along the smooth singletrack, I transitioned onto the boardwalk stretches with the same gait, using just a bit more caution. It was a lot of fun and the miles cruised by easily.  Running at sea level has its advantages. It is much easier to keep a gentle breathing pattern compared to running trails in the higher elevations of the mountainous terrain. I was definitely enjoying this coastal run.


photo by Kathy Vaughan/UltraPedestrian.com

     We snacked on evergreen huckleberries that were loaded on bushes alongside the trail and boardwalk. They were delicious and their flavored had a hint of ocean flavoring, almost like seaweed. I had never had this wild berry and it was fun to discover another one of nature’s gifts. I imagined the Makah Indians gathering these berries, one of the mainstays of their diet.


photo by Kathy Vaughan/UltraPedestrian.com

     And now, on that singletrack approach to the coast, I felt a tinge of excitement as the sounds of the waves grew louder and the smells of the ocean grew stronger. Before I knew it, I could see sea stacks looming out of the ocean waters. The forested camp that sits just off the shore was a place we could stand for shelter from the wind while Jason, Lisa and I each took in the view. I was brought to tears by what I was seeing and feeling from the power of the ocean. A bright red buoy hung from a broken branch of a fir tree. The wet drizzle shimmered off the bright green, tall sentinels of the shoreline, the coastline heavily forested and rugged. I loved being here, in this moment and I was so thankful that I had all day and into the night to explore as much of this area as I could.

photo by Kathy Vaughan/UltraPedestrian.com


photo by Kathy Vaughan/UltraPedestrian.com

     The piled up driftwood had hidden treasures, both natural and man-made. The tide was in and so we would have to wait to run the shoreline. We decided to do a short out and back section that would take us to another spot down the coast and then return to Lake Ozette while the tide receded. We would take the Cape Alava trail to get back to the ocean after eating some Thai Peanut Rice Soup I had made to share, back at our camp at the lake. Jason would stay behind with Lucy while Lisa and I continued our run. The Super Moon would be shining on us past dark and would help light our way. 

photo by Kathy Vaughan/UltraPedestrian.com

     Lisa and I set out again, this time taking the fork in the trail that led to Cape Alava, north of where we had hit the shore on our earlier outing. The Pacific Northwest Trail ends at Cape Alava. There are nice campsites set back in the forest slightly, all along the shore.  During the warm summer months, these campsites are very popular. But now, in mid-November, there was almost no one else around. As Lisa and I made our way along the boardwalk trail out to the coast for the second time that day, we saw a couple of parties of backpackers hiking back to their cars. It was quiet and serene, once we got to the beach.


photo by Kathy Vaughan/UltraPedestrian.com

photo by Kathy Vaughan/UltraPedestrian.com

     The tide was out and we were able to hike and run along the shore. It was getting later in the day and the sun would soon start to set. We had to watch for the sign hanging from a tree that would indicate the spot where we took the trail back to Lake Ozette from Sandy Point. It was about three miles from Cape Alava. The scenery was spectacular in every direction. I enjoyed beachcombing, and picked up some pretty sea glass, shells and agates. The receding tide left tidal pools with all kinds of sea life in its wake. I wandered through the huge sea stack formations known as Wedding Rock, and saw the ancient Native American petroglyphs known to be there.  As the sun set, Lisa and I took a break on a piece of driftwood. We wanted to savor the moment, looking out to the west where the sun dropped below the horizon, and where the ocean sprawled as far as the eye could see.

photo by Kathy Vaughan/UltraPedestrian.com

photo by Kathy Vaughan/UltraPedestrian.com

photo by Lisa Eversgerd/UltraPedestrian.com

     We got to the sign indicating the overland route that begins at Sandy Point. We got on the trail here and headed for a primitive four mile out and back trail to a remote spot on Ozette Lake. Once we got to that trail, we could see how primitive and unmaintained it actually was. Lisa and I headed up it for a short distance, realizing that our almost magical time on the beach was much preferred. We turned around and headed back to the coast. We continued south along the shoreline, knowing that the tide would come back in at 10:30 p.m. We would have to watch our time and the incoming tide, and get turned around in time. We needed to be back to that overland trail to Ozette Lake before the high tide was upon us, with it’s dangerous rolling logs and incoming waves.


photo by Kathy Vaughan/UltraPedestrian.com

     Paying attention to tides, the boardwalk trails, the evergreen huckleberries and mystical rainforest; there was so much uniqueness to this run. I highly recommend a trip to these coastal trails and time spent on the coastal route itself to all hikers and trail runners. Remaining flexible and being okay with some night time hours on the trail will help make a long day of it possible.


photo by Kathy Vaughan/UltraPedestrian.com

     Lisa and I made it back to the trail with time to spare. I did not feel spent like I did after long days on mountain trails. I didn’t even want it to end, although I was ready for some more of that soup and Lisa’s apple bread. It felt almost as if I were floating along as I ran back through the rainforest. I trusted my footing on the boardwalk stretches. I breathed in the fresh, drizzly air. Lisa was behind me as we ran easily along the twisting and turning trail. We pieced together twenty miles of sweet trails and coastline. It had been a blast.


photo by Lisa Eversgerd/UltraPedestrian.com

     Back at our camp, we set up chairs outside and ate our hot soup in the misty rain. The temperature was perfect for sitting outside in the dark, feeling good after a long day of fun exploring. The camp was quiet, most folks tucked away in their tents or camper vans for the night. The moss draping from the birch trees along the lake’s shore created a mystical back drop to our camp meal scene. Lisa fixed us hot tea to sip on while the moon gave us all the light we needed. 


photo by Kathy Vaughan/UltraPedestrian.com

     I’m grateful for all of the gear I have to keep me comfortable, moving sustainably and eating well. But in particular, my favorite gear and those I endorse through brand ambassadorships are: Altra Running – I wore the Lone Peak NeoShell Mid trail shoe and found them perfect for the wet, slippery conditions. I also wore the Heat Zone Jacket and wore the nice little Altra gaiters in pink. I love how these gaiters have a Velcro tab in front and back to keep them secure on the back of the shoe. Altra trail running shoes are equipped with a tab of Velcro on the back where gaiters can be attached; Nathan – I used the super functional and well- designed ultrarunning pack, The VaporShadow. I had easy access to my camera and snacks in pockets up front and on the sides. There was enough room for my rain layers and head lamp, with extra room remaining, in back pockets. I am impressed with its durable construction and fabrics; Trail Butter – I snacked on the Expedition Espresso Trail Butter for breakfast, giving me my fat quota for before the run. I love the bits of espresso bean and chocolate mixed in with the rich nut butter. It’s hard to find me not wearing my favorite royal blue Be Trail Ready trucker cap, but the wind was so strong I had to have my warm ear flap hat on instead.  Honey Stinger Waffles – Vanilla, Caramel and Lemon filled Waffles are my favorite flavors of these delicious, dairy-free trail treats. These waffles are always easy to pull out of my pack and eat on the go, but I also like having them with coffee when I am out long enough to bring along the Jet Boil. I love these on long thru hikes. An evening break on the trail with a coffee and a Honey Stinger Waffle; Ras and I both enjoy this perfect combination.

photo by Kathy Vaughan/UltraPedestrian.com



Wednesday, October 12, 2016

Eight Times Around Rainier

Eight Times Around Rainier:
Wandering the Wonderland in Ceaseless Wonder

photo by Ras/UltraPedestrian.comBy 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.

photo by Ras/UltraPedestrian.com

     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. 

photo by Ras/UltraPedestrian.com

     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. 

photo by Ras/UltraPedestrian.com

     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.

photo by Kathy Vaughan/UltraPedestrian.com

       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. 

photo by Kathy Vaughan/UltraPedestrian.com

     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.

photo by Kathy Vaughan/UltraPedestrian.com

     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.

photo by Ras/UltraPedestrian.com

     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.

photo by Ras/UltraPedestrian.com

     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. 

photo by Ras/UltraPedestrian.com

     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. 

photo by Kathy Vaughan/UltraPedestrian.com

     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. 

photo by Kathy Vaughan/UltraPedestrian.com

     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. 

photo by Kathy Vaughan/UltraPedestrian.com

     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.  

photo by Ras/UltraPedestrian.com


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


photo by Kathy Vaughan/UltraPedestrian.com