fast enough for the trails

trail testing salomon sense mantras

2013-12-01T12:41:00.000-08:00

My first attempt at a trail running video shot with my phone.

About eight weeks ago, I received a pair of Salomon Sense Mantras to test through my twitter contacts. The timing couldn't have been better. I was on the hunt for a new pair of trail shoes - something lighter than the durable if not bulky Brooks Cascadia, but built to last longer than the Montrail Rogue Racers I had blown through after 50 miles. Twice.

I had given the New Balance MT 110 a shot, but those were not quite enough protection for my feet on the technical rock of the Columbia Gorge (and they were not holding up at all). The Brooks Pure Grit, which had looked promising, were tearing up my heels like no ones business. I wasn't sure that there was a shoe for me out there.

Straight out of the box, I was hopeful. Let's be honest here. They looked cool. Mostly black with just a few red and white accents, they were a welcome change from the current trend to pink out every shoe in sight. They felt light in my hand and on my feet, and the materials looked more durable than most of the lightweight trail shoes on the market.

I did have my reservations. They seemed stiff on the sole - this is not a shoe you're going to bend in half. I wasn't sure what I would think of that. But the upper half of the shoe seemed to move well, so I kept my mind open.

I knew that to find out if they would work, I would have to get them dirty. The next day, I took them out for 8 miles on Leif Erickson Drive, a local Portland spot that is an unimproved gravel road. The surface is easy to run on, but you can start to notice the rocks under your feet with the minimalist shoes. I was pleased to notice that the stiff bottom of the shoe was doing a great job of protecting my feet, but they still managed to feel nimble. They felt great.

This is when the testing began in earnest. I took them to the Columbia Gorge where the trails are technical and the rocks are often slick. They felt fantastic. Loved them on the muddy trails of Forest Park and Tryon Creek, and I even hauled them back to Kentucky to run the roads of the Bourbon Chase Relay. They have performed admirably on every condition I have thrown at them.

One word of caution: the lugs are not super aggressive. Our fall has been relatively dry so far, so I have not been able to test them in the slippery, sucking clay mud of our trails after a few weeks of rain. I think they may slip a bit, and if the rocks are super wet, they do slip (as most trail shoes do). Salomon does make a more aggressive lug on some of their other shoes, so I may pick up a pair of those for those runs in really nasty, wet, slippery conditions, but I honestly feel these shoes will work for 85% of my trail runs.

The true test of a good shoe is whether you would buy a second pair that was not given to you to test.

My next pair is already on order.

Thank you Salomon for letting me test out your shoes!

finding inspiration on the 100 mile crew

2013-11-11T17:19:00.004-08:00

If you are lucky, you may be given the opportunity to witness the indomitable spirit that lies inside of us. To know that it lives in those we call friend carries the whisper of the truth that it may dwell within us as well, waiting only for the right moment to be called forth. It is inspiration at the deepest level, and I had the greatest fortune to be able to be a part of what may go down on record as one of the most miserable weekends outdoors ever. And I wouldn't change a minute.

The weekend began under dark skies. With my uncanny ability to worry over the worst possible scenarios, I brooded over the troubling weather reports that predicted inches and inches of rain. I worried that my car would not be able to navigate the rough roads that led up to the start line. Heck, I worried about every possible thing that could go wrong, and then I found ways to double and triple those worries. I was a wreck. And I wasn't even running.

Megan checks in for her first 100. Smiling. Calm. Certainly not a basket case like her crew chief.

As we chatted in the cabin that evening, my mind was going a hundred miles an hour. What if it poured all day? What if it was cold? There was no way I would even start, I told myself. Megan was nuts. No way could I find that strength to toe the start line. That was normal, right? A rational, sane person would look at the impending conditions and call it off. No one would be at the start the next morning...

Except they were. And they had smiles on their faces. They were nervous, yes, but they were also quietly confident. I could feel my own weakness staring me back in my face. I wanted to be like THAT.

The only photo I have of the four of us.

Meeting up with Megan at the second aid station was a stark reminder of how tough it was out there. Eleven miles in, and she was soaked to the bone. Cold. But still able to move well, smile even. Five minutes in the rain, and we were wet; these runners had been out in it for two hours. And they were nowhere near to calling it a day.

Marta does all the work. I take blurry photos.

The view from the cabin. We watched the rain roll across the lake all morning.

The aid station back at Olallie Lake was a tough one. Runners were coming in hypothermic, and when Megan came in, I had never seen her look so down. She was freezing; her feet were blistered from running through the water. Still, she let us put her back together to the point that she could smile again, even though 74 miles lay between her and the finish. I wanted to be like THAT.

A lovely spot near mile 54.

The bored photographer.

Through the afternoon, the rain actually let up a bit. You know, only a half inch an hour, versus the downpour that had marked the morning. When we saw Megan again at mile 54, she was feeling alright and picking up Marta to pace her seemed to lift her spirits. We watched runner after runner pull in, most of them still smiling and positive, only a few too hurt to go on. I wanted to be like THAT.

Everyone huddled under the aid station tent.

The respite from the rain did not last, though, and as darkness fell, the rain and wind began to arrive in earnest. Runners reported trees falling behind them on the trail (with just a touch of glee, it seemed). News came down that snow was falling back up at the start line, and a tree had come down on two participants' cars. Even still, folks were coming in full of hope - tired, yes, but with a will to keep on going even as the conditions deteriorated.

In time it became clear that continuing the race was dangerous. Somewhere around 9:30 pm, the race directors called it, and when Megan finally returned to mile 71, we had to tell her it was over. I have no doubt in my mind that she would have finished the race, even though most of us would have called it a day long before mile 71. Yeah, I wanted to be like THAT.

Done.

In the end, it was not her spirit that could be broken. It was not her toughness, or her determination. Just the darn weather. And she was not the only one. All of those runners had the courage to sign up, to start, to continue, and to call it a day when the conditions, either of the course of their own bodies, were too severe to go on. But their will, their heart, their courage - that was all strong. Witnessing their battles, being a part of their journey, touched me in a way that is hard to put in to words. Seeing what is possible in others reveals what may be possible in yourself. I am inspired to push myself more, to go even deeper down that rabbit hole to see what I am capable of accomplishing.

So to all who put themselves out there for the Mountain Lakes 100, thank you. You were truly an inspiration.

an act of defiance

2013-09-10T20:08:00.003-07:00

Down at nearly sea level. Not for long.

Just the other day, a college friend posted that it was the 20th anniversary of River Phoenix's death. Not his epic performance in Stand By Me, or his appearance on my much loved Seventeen magazine cover. No, it had been 20 years since his death that still managed to shock me long after the teenage crush had faded. While the wrinkles beneath my eyes and the children that insist on growing up have made me feel my years lately, this really made me feel old.

What's the perfect remedy for feeling old?

Trail. It's always trail. (Or a whole lot of beer and tequila. But that's a whole other story.)

My ultra patient running buddy Julie agreed to take on Mt Defiance with me. The Portland Hikers guide says this about it: "The Mount Defiance Hike is well-known as the most difficult hike in the Gorge."

They are not kidding.

It started innocently enough. Some lovely waterfalls. A little climb accentuated by the wide open expanses of the Columbia Gorge.

And then it starts to get serious.

I was in death march mode before mile 2. Thankfully some lovely views helped to lessen the pain. Pay attention to Dog Mountain, that dome shaped monolith.

My legs were not having it. In rebellion, my mind decided that playing "B-Double E-Double R-U-N" on repeat would be an appropriate punishment. I was losing the mental battle.

She was on a mission today.

I would do my best Anton Krupicka impression and place my hands on my knees, attempting to power climb, but more often than not, I would just stop and heave in a breath or two. Every once in awhile I would remember to soak it all in.

I tried to not listen when Julie would tell me the pathetically small amount of climbing her Garmin was registering.

Yep, I was stalling on the climb.

At points the trail was crazy steep.

"Dog Mountain is just a little girly mountain now!"

Knee deep in self pity, we reached a clearing. Instant joy. The power of the mind is awesome. All of the exhaustion, pain and self doubt was gone. My body could suddenly move.

Well, at least for 1/2 a mile.

Mt Rainier and Mt Adams

Mt Adams

I never realized I could do panoramas with the iPhone. Please excuse my overuse of them for the next few adventures.

A bit more painful climbing, and we reached the summit at 4959 feet - complete with radio tower.

Conquered.

We lingered a bit and then started the jello-leg journey back down the mountain.

This will always be how I think of Julie on these runs.

And now, as I reflect on the journey, my legs pleasantly burning with the memory of the miles, I don't feel quite as aged. There's a lot of life to be lived if you are bold enough to go out and seize it. On to the next adventure!

Now I wonder what the most difficult hike outside of the Gorge might be...Julie?

About the hike: http://www.portlandhikersfieldguide.org/wiki/Mount_Defiance_from_Columbia_River_Hike

on the road to spokane

2013-08-19T15:40:00.002-07:00

Worked my second relay in as many weeks.

I haven't been on a road trip to Spokane in many, many years. Once again, I am blown away by how much I love the rolling brown hills and plains of Eastern Washington. I really need to learn how to master the art of pulling over at the right spot...

Such an amazing week working the race.

Morning on the Spokane River. Dang, that water is cold. Listening to the bald eagles, a midnight swim. Yeah, lots of memories.

Sunrise at the start line.

Looking out over the valley from the top of Mt Spokane.

I don't know. I thought it looked cool.

Driving west through the Columbia Gorge is drop dead gorgeous.

cascade lakes relay 2013 - from the other side

2013-08-07T16:44:00.001-07:00

For the past five years, I've made the trek to Diamond Lake to run one of the most scenic and challenging relays out there. Over the years, I've come to love every nook and cranny of the course - from the morning mist rising from Diamond Lake to the baking red glare of the cinder roads.

This year I experience the race in a whole new way - from the perspective of staff. At times exhausting, exhilarating and often hilarious, I felt myself growing as the hours progressed, and here, on the other side, I feel changed. It's hard to explain.

Still, I had my camera, and while I had limited opportunities to capture the beauty of the race I call home, I found a few moments when I had to stop my car and lift my lens.

olallie lake

2013-08-06T16:47:00.000-07:00

Great place to spend the weekend. Wanted more photos but ran out of time to hike.

mt hood 50 from the aid station

2013-07-19T07:46:00.000-07:00

Didn't have much time to bring out the camera at the Mt Hood 50 the other day. Just a couple of shots I enjoyed. The meadow was breathtaking in the early morning fog.

Working that aid station was one of the most rewarding things I have done in a long time. If you want to feel helpful, volunteer at an ultra!

The early start

The meadow at the ranger station

Buddies. Jason just realized he brought two right shoes.

Waiting.

boulder ridge to huckleberry mountain

2013-07-04T12:44:00.000-07:00

While I was out galivanting on the Metolius last week, Julie was exploring a new trail on Mt Hood. The Boulder Ridge trail takes off from the Wildwood Recreation area and climbs 3,300 feet to reach the Plaza Trail, which meanders along a ridge and affords stunning views of Mt Hood and Mt Adams, and on super clear days, Mt Jefferson and Mt St Helens too. She had sent me photos, and me, in my overly eager way, asked her if we could run it again so I could see it. She patiently agreed to take me, even though her big race is just over a week away. If that's not a good running buddy, I don't know what is.

Now it has been hotter than Hades around here lately, with blazing blue skies and wonderfully clear weather. Until this morning. A nice marine layer of clouds, while wonderfully cool, also cut off our early views. I kept my fingers crossed that we'd get to see something after climbing up so far.

I do love a good cloud forest.

My Cathedral
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Like two cathedral towers these stately pines

Uplift their fretted summits tipped with cones;

The arch beneath them is not built with stones,

Not Art but Nature traced these lovely lines,

And carved this graceful arabesque of vines;

No organ but the wind here sighs and moans,

No sepulchre conceals a martyr's bones.

No marble bishop on his tomb reclines.

Enter! the pavement, carpeted with leaves,

Gives back a softened echo to thy tread!

Listen! the choir is singing; all the birds,

In leafy galleries beneath the eaves,

Are singing! listen, ere the sound be fled,

And learn there may be worship with out words.

This poem always comes to mind when the trees are dark and hushed as they were today, and there is nothing to hear but the birds and the wind.

A modest cairn

You don't hit the wild rhododendrons until you're up around 2,500 feet

As we reached the top, the skies began to clear.

Once we reached the top, Mt Hood decided to be a bit of a tease. We lingered as the clouds floated by, giving us a tantalizing hint of what the view would be.

C'mon baby.

Finally, the clouds parted and we got a great view of Mt Hood.

Mt Adams even appeared for a few minutes.

A glimpse of the valley below and Mt Hood above...not visible on the way up.

More about the trail: http://www.portlandhikersfieldguide.org/wiki/Boulder_Ridge_to_Huckleberry_Mountain_Hike

metolius river trail

2013-06-30T18:42:00.000-07:00

The Metolius River is one of Central Oregon's gems - a fly fisherman's paradise and a trail runner's dream. Undulating trails of wide singletrack follow the wild and beautiful river for miles and miles. Running this trail has been on my list for several years, and I finally finagled my chance to run a great section of it.

I took off from the Lower Creek Campground, where I was staying with the family. From there, it is a 2.5 mile section to Wizard Falls Fish Hatchery, and then another 5.5 on to Candle Creek Campground. All told, the out and back trip was about 14 miles. My running was less than stellar, but since I have no goals and no aspirations at the moment, I didn't worry too much about it.

Fresh water springs flow right out of the hillside.

A lovely spot on the trail.

Without Julie's backside to photograph, I had to take a picture of myself.

The wildflowers were amazing.

Easy little bridges to cross.

Plenty of wildlife to see. Osprey, geese, squirrels, butterflies, lizards, chipmunks...

Part of the preserve along the river.

So many kinds of butterflies along the trail. Like running through the butterfly habitat at the zoo.

The amazing blue water at the fish hatchery.

Such an amazing trail and run along the river. Even with the heat (it was nearly 90º, and I ran out of water) I felt like a kid in a candy store. We saw some folks running what looked to be a trial race the next day; if this is the case and there is a race through the Metolius River area, I just might have to sign up.

mi hermosa mazatlan

2013-06-25T13:46:00.001-07:00

I have been so very lucky to have been able to travel to Mazatlan. I was in love from the moment I started to discover its secrets - life teeming inside closed courtyards, the warmth of its summer sands, stark contrasts of its riches and its crushing poverty, a rich cultural history one cannot escape.

I did not come close to capturing all that I wished, but here are a few shots to illustrate the beauty of the place. And yes, I did run in the crushing heat and suffocating humidity...but mostly I soaked it all in.

Mazatlan from the top of the faro.

Street vendor selling jicama, cucumber and mango. He is 90.

The faro from a distance. Second highest natural lighthouse in the world.

Mazatlan is a street art lover's dream.

Olas Altas in the distance. Having a little fun with saturation levels.

Another view of Olas Altas and the edge of El Centro.

Beautiful beaches.

Valentino's. A Mazatlan landmark.

Can't wait to return. Hasta pronto, Mazatlan!

franklin ridge

2013-06-25T13:33:00.002-07:00

One more time around.

trail therapy

2013-04-19T18:57:00.000-07:00

Heavy heart this week. Running, my refuge from the world, assaulted.

I have a good running friend who was there. While my first thought was of her safety, I realize now that a bomb destroys far beyond the physical world.

We will be healing from these events for a long time to come.

Running is where I find myself. And once again, scrambling over rocks, skipping over streams, I touched that peace that running brings me. I only wish all the world could feel what I feel on the trail.

Some shots from the day:

More cliffs. I can't help it.

The top of Oneonta Gorge. So much water.

Oneonta Gorge from above.

Ponytail Falls

Lingering underneath to snap a few photos.

Horsetail Falls

Heading back under Ponytail.

at last

2013-03-22T15:21:00.000-07:00

Suffice it to say that February was not a good month for me.

Total mileage: 10 miles, maybe?

A nice case of pneumonia.

And my running buddy had her own serious health issues. We spent most of the month commiserating and wondering if we would ever see a trail again.

Today we did.

And it was wonderful.

Wahkeena Falls to Angel's Rest Trail, to the Multnomah Falls trail. Approximately 6.5 miles.

orcas island 2013

2013-01-28T12:07:00.001-08:00

Mt Constitution from the ferry.

A few months back, I listened to a podcast interview with James Varner on ultrarunnerpodcast. During the course of the interview, I remember him saying that he wanted the runners in his races to feel all of their emotions during the course of their run. Well, James, mission accomplished.

Let me tell you how it went down.

Joy.
Standing on the deck of the ferry with the sun sparkling on the water was purely joyful. Even as we chatted about the looming Mt Constitution, and the visible powerline track on its northwest side, I was filled with the pure contentment that exploring the wild brings me.

Hope.

The first few miles were effortless. I wondered if this would finally be a strong race for me. The last few months of training have been tough as I've felt myself losing endurance. I took two weeks off to rest, hopeful that this would be what my body needed to grow stronger. I thought that I would maybe be able to run a strong race while still taking the photos that I loved.

A lovely little spot by the dam on Mountain Lake.

Awe.
Orcas Island is a beautiful place. Mountain Lake is no exception, and I felt myself gasping at the sheer beauty of the place. This lovely bridge was one of my favorite spots. This entire section of course was one of the prettiest trails I have run yet.

Anxiety.
As we headed back towards the start line and aid station 1, I could feel my anxiety about the pending climb growing. The powerline trail hops up nearly 2,000 feet in two miles. My training as of late has not included these kinds of tough climbs - the trails that have that kind of challenge have been icy and snowy. Would my base from this past year be enough?

Envy.

Powerline kicked my ass.

Let's just say that relying on your months old base is not a good training plan.

And I was extremely envious of the great climbers around me. I just had no power on the hill, and I felt myself having to stop every so often to get my heart rate back under control.

Thankfully I met some great people on the hill - including the legendary Wild Bill - and that helped me when I needed it most.

Despair.
Would the hill ever end? I caught myself looking uphill several times and being overcome with the feeling that I would never reach the top. My legs refused to respond, and I was working very hard just to keep moving. The dark little doubts were creeping in, playing with my head.

Boredom.
There's only so much climbing you can do until you get bored.

And that stupid hill had too much of it.

At least at the top we started to see snow, and then it began to fall on us, and that brought a joy of its own.

Still climbing. The route had a bit of snow but very little ice.

Elation.
Reaching the top of that powerline hill brought such a feeling of elation I could not stop smiling. The section between the top of the hill and the start of the final climb to Mt Constitution was fantastic running, with moss-covered vistas that were soothing for the soul, if not the burning quads. I flew through the forest, feeling strong now that I was not climbing.

Frustration.
Climbing again.

Mother effer.

Any strength I had been feeling. Gone. I was dizzy on the switchbacks, stopping to recover at every one. My body was betraying me, and I was pissed.

Thank goodness the trail up to the top of Mt Constitution was gorgeous and I could distract myself with its beauty.

Friendliness.

I had the chance to meet quite a few folks on this race, and for me, that may have been the most rewarding part. I had some great chats on the climbs and at the summit of Constitution.

Which helped cushion the sting of having zero view from the top.

Surprise.

Descending down from the summit felt decent, and I spent hardly any time at the second aid station at all. Just past that point was Summit Lake, which surprisingly was frozen. It was so lovely I had to stop and take a couple of photos.

After that, I flew down the trail, feeling fantastic and passing people left and right, stopping only to get a photo of a huge fallen tree that caught my attention.

Pain.

I had been flying.

Truly.

We hit the road, and then started up another trail. Wait, up?

CRAMP.

I shouted.

"Cramp?" a guy asked as he ran by.

"Yes," I whimpered.

"I had one that knocked me to the ground," he said. "Don't go to the ground! It makes it worse!"

I had to chuckle a little, but then another spasm ended that.

So there I was, limping and waddling along, trying to figure out how I was going to keep moving forward.

And of course, here are two trees across the trail that I have to get over.

Seriously?

Humor

As I straddled the trees, I started laughing. How ridiculous was this - me, leg cramping, straddling two trees in the dead of winter and unable to get all the way over, miles into a race that most people call me crazy for running...

Perhaps laughter IS the best medicine, because shortly after making it over the tree, my leg quit seizing and was able to start running again.

Mountain Lake.

Anger.
Less than a mile to go, and I am ready to finish.

Is that another steep mother effing hill?

Are you kidding me?

Yeah, I muttered a few choice words in James' direction.

Gratitude.
Finally, the hill to the finish, the green grass of Camp Moran, the smiling high-five welcome back from James himself. Grateful to be done, grateful to be able to run in these races, grateful to see my friends, grateful for the cold beer on the porch.

Orcas Island, you were fantastic. You challenged me, inspired me, kicked my ass, renewed my love for trails.

You just might see me again.

Course notes:
I had the powerline trail described to me as "unrelenting". Competely accurate. Think 30% - 40% grade - you are basically climbing straight up a powerline. Side stepping up the climb helped a bit. Mt Constitution was a walk in the park by comparison. For those that have done Beacon Rock, powerline is hardesty trail, but much longer; Mt Constitution like Hamilton Mtn.

There was snow at the top of the run, but there was a good track and it was fairly wet. No ice to speak of. The trails were in great shape for this time of year.

The distance between the two aid stations was quite far due to the fact that all of the climb was in the middle. I would definitely carry water & more aid with me. I think I struggled with nutrition and definitely with hydration, though that had more to do with the fact that it was a cool day & I didn't feel thirsty than actual available aid. Even with the cool temps, I need to remember to keep drinking.

deception pass 50...{er} 25k.

2012-12-10T17:37:00.000-08:00

"You should totally sign up for this race with me."

"Sure," I answer. "Which race?"

Megan and I are sitting around enjoying a beer after a Trail Factor run. Our conversations tend to go this way when we are high on endorphins.

"Deception Pass 50k. You get to run over a bridge."

"I totally want to go run that."

"Cool," she answers. "Let's see if Bunky wants to join us."

And just like that, we've got another race on the calendar.

"Dude, you know that's like close to the Canadian border, don't you?" I ask her a few weeks later when we start to plan the trip.

"Really? I had no idea where it was. But you get to run over a bridge."

Megan has a thing for bridges.

Thankfully for us, we decided the five hour trip was worth it. Because it certainly was.

The view at the start line.

The Deception Pass 50k and 25k is another brilliant race from Rainshadow Running. Now we knew that Rainshadow races have a reputation for being tough. But for some reason, we convinced ourselves that this race would be fairly flat. After all, the highest point was only 400 feet above sea level.

After a few dire warnings about deadly falls, slippery rocks and narrow bridges, we were off. Right away a huge "seagull" swept across Cranberry Lake and landed in a snag just above us...and showed us his beautiful bald eagle head. And just that quickly, I knew I wasn't going to be racing. This was the kind of day that you sit back, relax and take some photos.

Early views of the bridge.

Climbing up to the bridge.

Within the first 2.5 miles, you cross the Deception Pass bridge for the first time, running 180 feet above the water. Sea lions cavort in the water below; later we would see sea kayakers. The experience of running over the bridge was worth the trip alone.

After crossing the bridge, you start out on the first lollipop, running along Bowman beach out to Rosario Head. The trail was somewhat technical and overgrown, and the out and back sections were at times a tight squeeze. But the new and ever increasingly scenic views did not disappoint.

Stink beach.

Sometimes you just have to stop and enjoy where you are at.

A cathedral of trees.

Rosario Head.

After a couple of lollipops, you head back over the bridge for the second half of the race. At this point, I wasn't sure which way I was facing.

Snow capped peaks of the Olympics. I think.

Climbing up Goose Rock.

400 feet above sea level. A much tougher climb than anticipated.

After reaching the top of Goose Rock, you quickly descend and are faced with the choice - 1.5 miles to the finish of the 25k, or another 16 for the 50k. I started off on the 50k path - well, at least I thought I did - but my heart wasn't in it. I called home, trying to decide what to do. And that's when the girl in front of me, Susie, called out that she thought we might be lost.

What.

Sure enough, there were no more marking ribbons. So we backtracked and noticed a pink ribbon high in the tree. And a trail...sort of.

So we followed it. Right into a swamp.

But still, there were ribbons on the other side, so we hopped on through. Crazy route, I thought, but that's part of the challenge, right?

We followed the trail up to a road...wait, what?

Down the way, we saw runners popping out on the road and an obvious sign - so now we knew for sure we had been off course. We wandered down to where they were coming from and realized that this was where our cozy cabins were. The cabins with clean clothes, soft beds...

Backtracking to where we had gone off course, we hit the 25k/50k decision point again - we had added at least a mile. Argh.

Any resolve I had to finish the 50k was gone. But I was at total peace with that decision. My main motivation for this race was to see the trails around Deception Pass, and this I had done. I was not there to race or push hard; not every race has to be about reaching a new PR. Sometimes it is just enough to run, and this was one of those days. I have a feeling that I have a lot more of these days to come.

Susie was determined to soldier on, and I admired her tenacity. After some other folks came to help her towards her goal, I wished her well and headed to the finish line.

Self portrait?

Cranberry Lake.

A bonus of finishing early was that I was able to cheer in Megan and Bunky, as well as loads of other folks.

Megan finishing.

Bunky finishing.

That night we shared our tales of the trails as we camped out with the other folks at the ELC - including Susie. We shared high fives and silly name games with the kiddos. A fine way to round out the day.

The next morning, we were up early for a 30 minute recovery run and a chance to run over the bridge again. I could do that every day, I think.

Recovery run the next day.

The bridge that made it all possible.

klickitat trail

2012-11-24T16:28:00.002-08:00

I am afraid I have done you a disservice, dear readers. I'm forever posting photos from the Columbia Gorge featuring deep green forests, cascading waterfalls and neverending climbs. You might think that this is all that the Gorge trails are made of. And while it is true that many of my favorite trails do feature these things, there is much more to the Gorge than just temperate rainforest.

The truth is that much of the Gorge is surrounded by dry plains and scrub reminiscent of California. Just 75 miles from Portland lies the Klickitat Trail, a converted rails to trails project nearly 31 miles in length. As soon as I heard about the trail, I knew it would be one I would have to explore.

Thankfully I roped faithful running buddies Julie & Sarah into joining me this weekend on an out and back from the start point in Lyle, Washington. We had no idea what to expect.

Within a mile of the start, we were drawing in sharp breaths at the beauty of the wild and scenic Klickitat River. Our appreciation for the beauty of the place was quickly replaced with fascination for the tribal fishing we could see on the wild river below us. Turns out that this is a culturally important spot for the Yakama Indians.

Traditional steelhead fishing on the narrows of the Klickitat.

With a gentle grade, the running was fairly easy along this beautiful river. While late fall rains have claimed most of the fall foliage, we could still see sparks of color along the banks.

Enjoying the view.

We decided to turn back at the 8 mile marker; while it was tempting to keep going, we knew we couldn't spend all day on the trail.

We were spared the heavy rain of the day before. Low lying clouds danced across the rocks for us.

Large stands of oak dotted the hillsides. This would be a stunning run in October.

A lone apple tree along the trail.

Before we knew it, we were back at the car. A full morning of beautiful vistas, good running, better conversation - does life really get any better than that?

More information on the Klickitat Trail.

strange things are afoot on devil's rest

2012-11-16T14:08:00.002-08:00

November in Oregon means grey, threatening skies and the dull light of persistent cloud cover. It is the time of year when your love of the state begins to be challenged by the bleak reality of a climate that sees too many dark, dreary days to count.

But then you go on a run like the one I did today, and you fall in love with the beauty of the state and the quirkiness of its inhabitants all over again.

We started at the Angel's Rest Trailhead, a popular jumping off point for many of the gorge's best trails. A quick climb and you are already witnessing your first waterfall.

As we climbed higher into the gorge, we were rewarded with a sneak peak of the Angel's Rest rock formation.

Looking west towards Camas, Washington and Portland.

Angel's Rest is about 2.5 miles from the parking lot and would make a fine adventure in itself. But you can't really go to Angel's Rest without hitting Devil's Rest too, right?

After a nice respite for photos, we continued our climb up the Foxglove Trail towards Devil's Rest. It's a pleasant enough trail, but there really wasn't much to look at.

Finally we popped out at Devil's Rest, only to be greeted by a strange sight.

Garden gnomes. With creepy red eyes. Pumpkins hanging from trees. I found four gnomes, though I have a feeling there were more. How funny that folks took the time and effort to hike these things up to Devil's Rest - we're talking at least 3 miles and 2,000 feet of climbing from the nearest trailheads...ah, this is why I love Oregon. We do keep it weird.

Even in the dull light of the overcast sky, Oregon is a beautiful place. Hitting the trails always reminds me of how lucky we are to have these trails to explore whenever we would like.

Route details:

Angel's Rest/Devil's Rest loop

franklin ridge, revisted

2012-11-12T18:06:00.002-08:00

I did not have a chance to take many photos as I spent most of this running well behind my friends and wallowing in self pity. At least I really love the two I did get.

salmon river trail

2012-11-09T06:49:00.002-08:00

Some days, I wonder if my memory is failing me.

I can't seem to remember to buy everything on my list at the grocery, I forget where I've laid my keys, birthdays slip my mind.

But yesterday I was reminded that perhaps my brain just wants to love what it remembers.

I met Julie just as dawn was breaking, excited to introduce her to a trail I had run before - the Salmon River Trail on the lower hills of Mt Hood. It was one of the first trails I had ever run; I earned my first bloody knee on its winding course. I remember trying to run the first big climb and having to walk, feeling I had failed. Thankfully I am an ultrarunner now and can dispense with such nonsense.

The trail begins along the river - two and a half miles of easy running along the shore of the lively Salmon River. We started at the campground so it was an out and back, and as I ran along the trail I had walked with my girls a couple of summers ago, I could remember trees and turns, places they had played. My memory wasn't failing me at all.

Autumn is on its last legs now, leaving bright spots of color along the ground.

After the river portion, you begin a gentle climb to some gorge-like terrain.

After some fairly level running, you climb again to this open spot. The sun warmed our faces and hearts.

Julie's favorite spot of the day.

We finally reached the top of the ridge - I only had to screech "Yowch" one time - and then continued on along the ridges above the river. We could in fact have gone out 15 miles, but we ran out of time and only made 17 on the day. (Not that we were planning to go that far anyways...we aren't overachievers!)

A forest rainbow

The Salmon River Trail is a great trail for a training run. Highly runnable, non-technical, with great views and nice swimming holes (if you head out on a hot day), it's a runner's paradise. Several other trails in the area allow for loops or gnarly climbs if you are so inclined. (We only climbed about 3,600 feet - the Green Canyon trail climbs nearly this far in 3 miles...)

Hikes in the area:
Salmon Butte
Devil's Peak
Salmon River

eagle creek

2012-10-19T06:52:00.000-07:00

You know what I love about seeing other runners on the trail?

They are always smiling. The grit it out, get it done face is absent among the mountains and the creeks. Runners are friendly, wanting to chat and share trail conditions, routes and favorite spots.

And when we get to run trails like these, it's impossible to not be grinning like a child.

The Eagle Creek trail is a technical, scenic, popular trail in the Gorge. If you could only do one trail here, this might be my pick. While not the best choice for a solid training run, it's delightful for the sheer density of trail awesomeness.

Lower Punch Bowl Falls

Loowit Falls

High Bridge.

The view from High Bridge.

We were treated to tricks of light all day long.

You might have to be part goat to run these trails really fast. Or at least an Ironman. We met a guy on the trail who was running this trail so fast, we could hardly wrap our mind around it.

We also met a guy with the park service who was telling us the best time to come up the trail is during the winter. Yeah, he said, you might have freezing rain the size of golf balls so that these rocky trails are covered in ice, but that's just in the morning, he assured us. It melts off by the afternoon. Gulp.

Tunnel Falls

The tunnel behind Tunnel Falls. It is actually blasted from the rock.

Twister Falls.

Right near our turn-around point.

It really was a spectacular fall day. Every turn of the trail elicited squeals of delight.

Punch Bowl Falls. Argh - I need a filter for these sunny days.

Hike information: http://www.nwhiker.com/CGNSAHike37.html

larch mountain

2012-10-05T15:13:00.000-07:00

Damn, I am a lucky girl. Er, woman. This is what I got to do today:

Multnomah Falls is usually so crowded that I've never taken the time to check out the view from the first bridge. This morning, the lot was empty. Turns out, it is quite pretty from there.

A familiar sight, now in brilliant color.

I did not remember seeing this creek on Sunday when we came down from Franklin Ridge. No matter how many times you run the trails, there are always new things to see. Especially if you are senile.

A foxglove blooms late in to the season.

We chose to run up to Larch Mountain from the bottom of the Gorge. If you drive to the top, this is the hardest part you'll face.

In case you weren't sure how high you had climbed, the nice folks who built the viewing ramp reminded you how far you had come.

The Columbia River basin, far below.

On the left, St Helens, in the middle, Rainier, and on the right, Adams.

Mt Adams in the distance.

And a shot of Mt Hood.

We finished off the adventure with a quick trip to Oneonta Gorge. Our flip-flops weren't the best choice to try and scramble over the logjam, so we'll leave that for another day.

franklin ridge, columbia gorge

2012-10-01T14:04:00.003-07:00

Conquered a sweet little 15 mile loop in the Gorge.

Taking off from Multnomah Falls, you cut over to the Oneota trail, climb and climb and climb to Franklin Ridge, bust your behind across the ridge, and then drop back down to Multnomah Falls and Wahkeena Falls for the finish. Quiet trails, babbling creeks, ridge views, autumn leaves...what better way to spend a Sunday?

Appropriately named Triple Falls.

Did I mention we climbed a bit? About 5,000 feet in a little less than 15 miles.

I am a sucker for photos of rock cliffs. Whatever.

The route details: Franklin Ridge loop
We added on mileage by heading towards Wahkeena Falls to get back down to Multnomah, rather than battling the crowds on the switchbacks down.

paradise park, mount hood

2012-09-20T16:13:00.002-07:00

Near the end of the school year, my running partner Julie and I realized that if we woke up really early, we could sneak in a good trail run during the week and make it back to Portland in time to pick up the kids. Inspired by the opportunity to hit the trails, we spent much of the summer dreaming of the days school would begin and we could try our new plan out in earnest. Today marked our first successful outing of the new school year.

The 5:00 am alarm was jarring, but seeing the sun rise as we pulled in to Timberline Lodge was worth it.

Our destination was Paradise Park, high on the slopes of Mt Hood for a solid run of twelve miles. The first climb up from the lodge to get on the Pacific Crest Trail had us both sucking wind in minutes.

Thankfully the gorgeous day revived us from our miserable breathing habits.

Armed with a new camera, I wasted little time in recruiting my new found model for some action shots.

This would be a recurring theme. Thankfully she was a good sport for me.

Playing around with some photo effects.

The light was amazing all morning.

I found myself in awe of the grandness of the area versus our puny selves.

The trail down to the Zig Zag canyon is full of water. I was so focused on capturing the images that I totally missed the fact that a guy we passed was carrying a gun. He had shot a bear, he proudly told Julie, and then asked if she wanted to see it. It was in his backpack. "That poor baby bear" was all I could think when she told me her story. Now, I don't know if he really shot a baby bear. Or a bear at all. I know it wasn't a large backpack, so it couldn't have been big...this is just the silly thought that kept rolling through my head. We've decided that he was crazy and hadn't shot anything at all, because we like that version of the story much better.

More tricks of light on the ridges.

The entrance to Paradise Park.

A lot of water flows through this area, creating little oases high on the mountain. Gorgeous.

Julie runs up towards the broken rock, one of the coolest sights of the day.

One more photo effect.

A shot of me taking photos. Cracks me up.

The hike information:
Paradise Park, via the Timberline Trail

Total mileage: 13 miles

Rating: INSANELY AWESOME.

why we run far

2012-09-13T07:58:00.000-07:00

I've often wondered why we run these long distances, why we choose to strip ourselves down to something essential. Poet Ted Hughes wrote the following in a letter to his son, and I think he eloquently captures what we are looking for when we take on this journey.

"And so, wherever life takes it by surprise, and suddenly the artificial self of adaptations proves inadequate, and fails to ward off the invasion of raw experience, that inner self is thrown into the front line — unprepared, with all its childhood terrors round its ears. And yet that’s the moment it wants. That’s where it comes alive — even if only to be overwhelmed and bewildered and hurt. And that’s where it calls up its own resources — not artificial aids, picked up outside, but real inner resources, real biological ability to cope, and to turn to account, and to enjoy. That’s the paradox: the only time most people feel alive is when they’re suffering, when something overwhelms their ordinary, careful armour, and the naked child is flung out onto the world. That’s why the things that are worst to undergo are best to remember."

I also think he has discovered the reason we act like little children when we get super tired.

winner, winner...

2012-09-12T14:00:00.000-07:00

chicken dinner.

I have a new "worst race photo ever".

Seriously?

Damn I'm a good downhill runner.

If you can't laugh at yourself, who can you laugh at?

Now I am off to do about a thousand positive affirmations.