Showing posts with label kathy vaughan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label kathy vaughan. 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

    

Tuesday, December 6, 2016

An Unfortunate Fall

An Unfortunate Fall

By Kathy Vaughan
                                                                     
photo by Ras/UltraPedestrian.com
     Ras and I haven’t been in a good place for a while. We relocated a year ago from a quiet, peaceful existence in the Okanogan Highlands of north central Washington, to the busy hustle and bustle of Whidbey Island. A few days after our arrival, we began working for a yard maintenance business. After a few months’ work, we took off for our record breaking yo-yo thru-hike of the 800 mile Arizona National Scenic Trail. We returned from the exhausting and fulfilling 1,600 mile thru-hike, and began working for the yard service again just a couple of days later. We have continued our weekend ultra adventuring, peak bagging, and trail exploring lifestyle. There are factors that have made our life in these circumstances challenging and frustrating. But through it all, we have stayed on each other’s team and tried to remain positive.

     Last week, we had to have our 15 year old Australian Shepherd put down. He had grown up with our 23 year old daughter Angela, keeping her safe and giving her lots of company as she grew up as an only child. It was heart wrenching to say goodbye to him. I had spent countless hours with him on the trails, cozied up at my feet by the woodstove or out in the yard, where he would lay nearby as I did chores. On  Whidbey Island, he spent most of his time in the backyard with his sister Puzzle and our cats Dodger and Peabody, while Ras and I spent our days away pulling weeds. It had been so hard to leave him behind each day, especially as he got weaker and more elderly. Most days, Ras and I walked he and Puzzle ½ mile through the neighborhood after we got home from work. Then we would make a bed for him to come lie inside near us for the night. This change of having to be away from Jesse as he aged was very challenging for me. 


     Ras and I were able to take the day off to take him to the vet to be put down. We snuggled with him and whispered sweet things to him as he died on the table in the clinic. We spent some time with him there, until finally covering him and then leaving the body behind. His soul will stay with us forever. We drove to the beach to sip lattes and process this sad time. We tried to make sense of how we’ve gotten to this point; this hard in-between space of heavy-heartedness, stifled creativity and dreams just out of reach.  We talked about how we must keep making forward progress and create the reality for ourselves that we so desire. 


     To celebrate our 20th wedding anniversary and take advantage of a long Thanksgiving weekend, Ras and I intended on getting out for an adventure. The weather was not cooperating though, and so we settled on a 25 miler on our nearby state park trails. We ran quietly together all day long, enjoying being out but having so much to process. My mother has fallen ill this fall too, having been diagnosed with bone marrow disease. She is on a chemo therapy regimen. Our daughter is away in Madagascar, serving two years in the Peace Corps. I am so proud of her. I do miss her though, and it will be many months before I see her again. 

photo by Kathy Vaughan/UltraPedestrian.com

      And just when I thought I could shake off these challenging, yet universal life woes, I was surprised by an unfortunate fall during a most wonderful night time run. The pain came suddenly, taking over my ankle as I made contact with the tree root. I crumpled to the ground. It was wet, but soft and I writhed around a bit, trying to understand what had just happened. I was concerned I had really injured my ankle, but Ras was there, comforting me and convincing me that there was no need to panic. I could not see immediate swelling happening. I was hesitant to put any weight on it by standing up. I tried to figure out a way to sit up comfortably for a couple of minutes, evaluating the damage and what to do next. Ras stood behind me so I could lean against his legs. He told me to take as much time as I needed. The pain was tolerable, nothing like the intense pain of acute pancreatitis, which I have from time to time. 



     Finally, I felt as if I could try to stand. Ras helped me to my feet. I again felt hesitant to put any weight on my left foot. I did not want to create any more damage. I wanted to run again, and soon! I tried to walk with his help. This was too difficult. He squatted down and I climbed on his back for a piggy back ride. He carried me this way up a short climb until the trail intersected with a paved park road, closed down for the season. He knew he could run back and get the car and drive it to the gate that closes off the road. He could then come down and help me up to the car. He got me settled into a somewhat dry spot underneath a large fir tree. Then he took off for the car. I looked at my watch. Ras said it would probably take him about a half an hour. I would try not to look at my watch again. I wanted to get myself settled into this spot the best I could as I waited patiently for his return.

     I took off my Nathan VaporAiress running pack and reached inside, hoping to find a pack of chemical handwarmers. Yes! I had left a package in there. I pulled out an extra Altra buff that was in my pack as well and double wrapped it around my ankle to give it some compression. This felt good right away. I wrapped Ras’ Altra ¾ zip jacket around my legs, put my handwarmers inside my gloves and then put them on while nestling down to wait. The night was quiet. There were stars out and it was not raining. I did not want to catch a chill, so I rocked back and forth, keeping myself moving just enough to stay warm. Ras had hollered back at me as he ran off, “Do crunches if you get cold!”

     It was probably about 49 degrees out. It really wasn’t that cold. A half hour wasn’t that long. I was relaxed and unconcerned about how long it would take him. I trusted that he was doing everything he could to get back to me as efficiently as possible. I looked at my watch and it had been 23 minutes. He would be back before I knew it. And then I heard his hoot. Living on our own acreage for many years, we had a hoot we would do across the property to catch one another’s attention, or to call out to Angela. I heard this familiar call and I answered back. Soon, I saw his headlamp coming back towards me. He had brought a couple of extra layers, which I put on right away. He helped me to my feet. It was time to get out to the gate now, and the awaiting car, about a mile away. 

     Ras asked if I wanted to try to walk out with his help, or wanted him to carry me out, then said those weren't the only options. He continued, "I could bring you some more layers from the car, then I could drive home real quick and get some trekking poles for you to hike out with, or a wheelbarrow to haul you out in, or I could grab the bolt cutters and pop the lock off the gate and drive in and pick you up." These were apparently plans A through E. Ras never mentioned trying to contact a park ranger or any other authority. I assumed this course of action was further down his list, around plan Z or so. I told him I wanted to try putting some weight on my ankle and see how it went.


photo by Ras/UltraPedestrian.com

     I played around with the best way to make forward progress, either holding Ras’ arm, or hand, or neither. I moved carefully and soon got into a careful limping rhythm that worked. I held Ras’ hand, the heat from my handwarmers helping to keep his hand warm too. We had been through here a couple of nights ago, when we were out doing our 25 miler. We were each listening to our own mp3 players and just getting through mileage. Now, walking slowly, hand in hand, the experience was much different.  I was thankful for this quiet, careful walk, but also filled with gratitude that I had been able to have a long run very recently. It might now be a while.


photo by Ras/UltraPedestrian.com

     Up until the moment of the fall, I had been running quite well. I was moving fast, for me, and loving it. Ras was behind me and also enjoying his run. It had only been dark for about 15 minutes or so. The transition from the fading light of sunset to now, when it was quite dark in the trees, was gradual and evocative. When I was a backpacker and in my earlier days of trail running, I would get anxious as the light began to fade towards the end of the day. I felt nervous about being on the trail past dark. I would want to make camp if hiking, or if trail running, I would want to stay as close to my partners as possible. I wanted to be in the middle of those I was running with and turned around constantly if I was in the back. 

     With practice and a growth in confidence, I have begun to savor and love the night time miles. I enjoy the night sounds in the forest. I love focusing only on what is right in front of me on the trail, whatever it is that my headlamp is catching in its’ beam. I can let go of all of the rest. The focus becomes easier to attain and with some self-talk, I am usually able to open up and run free and less self-consciously.

     I had been in this zone when my left foot landed on a big root, turning my ankle. My headlamp was in need of fresh batteries and therefore, the beam was not very bright. I could not differentiate this root from the other trail surface and it caught me completely off guard while running fast. It hurt and it took me down. But it won’t keep me down. I will see how much time I need to take off from running. I hope I can get back on the trails soon. Running trails is my therapy. The longer the mileage and the amount of time spent on the trails, the better. 


photo by Ras/UltraPedestrian.com

UPDATE as of 12/05/2016: The Road (and Trail) to Recovery

Days 1-3: Rest, Ice, Compression and Elevation.

Day 2: Evening walk on crutches around the 1/2 mile neighborhood loop.

Day 3: Half mile evening walk without crutches, very easy pace and careful foot placement. The swelling on Kathy's ankle diminishes noticeably and the bruising begins to improve.

Day 4: Return to physically demanding yard service work. 


Day 5: Two and a half hour walk/easy jog on asphalt and smooth, non-technical trail.

Day 6: One hour easy jog on smooth, non-technical trail and some asphalt. 


     Overall, Kathy's ankle is fairly stable, the majority of the swelling has subsided, and she can walk and run easily on it without pain. It's still tender, however, and it will still require time and attention for it to strengthen and heal completely. 


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