This blog is for trail runners--normal, everyday trail runners--who may not be up with the elites in any given race, but still have aspirations to improve, to challenge themselves, and to accomplish feats they never thought possible.
I've had considerable time to process my training for and run on Section J of the PCT this past August. My return to a normal running schedule of 30 to 36 miles a week has brought me a new perspective of my training for the near 75-mile run.
What I have found is that my pace on my everyday six to ten mile runs is much improved. Every day feels like a great run. I feel fresh and light. I can push my pace. I can do strides. I am shaving six minutes off my 10K time with a moderate effort. And I know that I never felt like that in the last three months of training. I never felt light, I never felt like I had a great run. I was always, always tired.
What does it mean that I was always tired? On the one hand, I may have over trained, and I am simply lucky that I didn't end up injured. On the other hand, had I not run the mileage that I did, I may not have been able to handle running 46 miles one day, and nearly 29 the next. As in, I had to adjust to being able to run when very, very tired.
I do think that my pack was a little too heavy. My pack itself, an Ultimate Direction Fastpack 20, was too heavy. I also could have left my sleeping bag behind. I probably could have carried a smaller quantity of water at any given time, but since I lost my water stop list, I didn't want to risk running out of water. My goal was seven pounds without water, and I ended up at almost nine. It was just too heavy for me.
How would I do things differently? I would probably cross train on one or two of the shorter run days. I have to face the fact that I am not so young anymore (I'm approaching 49), and I can't do what other elite 49-year-old blogging runners can do. While a 50-miles a week average for the year is good for some, for me something more like 30 to 40 miles a week average for the year may be better.
Regardless, I have enjoyed the fall hiking with my husband. We've done three hikes three weekends in a row. The pace is enjoyable and the hikes have been challenging. I feel strong and fresh when I hike. It's a good feeling.
Larch near their peak of color adorn the basin a mile from the summit of Carne Mountain near Stevens Pass.
It's been three days, and I am still trying to gain perspective on what I did last weekend. I know in the trail running world, it's probably not that big of a deal. In fact, when I was training, I encountered someone who ran Section J in one day. But all I know is me, and I have decided that for me, my fastpack on the PCT was quite an accomplishment. The experience built character, confidence, mental and physical toughness, and pride. I spent four months building a training base of 20-mile long runs, and then I trained for seven months after that, all for something that was over in two days. It feels a little strange.
Below is a video with all the pictures and videos from my fastpack of Section J.
Best parts
Hands down, the best part was simply doing what I set out to do. I can't believe I ran and hiked 73 miles in two days! Many times after a long training run in the Issaquah Alps, I'd think, "Can I really go out and do twice as much in one day, followed by 20 miles the next day?" I pushed those doubts to a far corner in my mind, and marched ever onward with my training plan. It was remarkable what my mind was able to convince my body to do. Once I got out there, not completing it was simply not an option.
I am under three miles from finishing. John met me on the trail and brought food and water.
My favorite places were the beginning of the climb to Pieper Pass and the climb through the Waptus Burn. It's likely that I would have more places to include had there been no smoke, but these two places were beautiful for what they were close up, not a distant view. I put the best pictures of these two places in a previous post, but here are two different ones.
Pieper Pass climb
Waptus Burn
Elevation gain and loss
This was probably the toughest thing about the fastpack. Though I trained for elevation gain and loss that was comparable to what I would be doing on the PCT, I was still sore at the end of the first day. Normally, it takes a day for soreness to show up. I did my best to hike the steep parts and run the easier climbs and descents, as well as the flat parts. From both my research and personal experience, that is the wisest thing to do, or you'll trash your quads. Despite this, my quads were definitely trashed the first day. There were 10 climbs near or above 5,000 feet. Two were near 6,000 feet, and twice I went below 3,200 feet (in addition to a starting point of 4,062 feet and a finish at 3,022 feet). That's a lot of ups and downs. None of the climbs were terribly steep. Most were moderate. It seemed to me like the climbs were more gradual going southbound, so I am glad I chose that direction. Would I change anything about my training? For the most part, no. I would probably do a few more runs on the PCT starting at Snoqualmie Pass heading north just to get accustomed to the ruggedness of parts of the trail.
Going southbound, day 1 had 12,430 feet of elevation gain and 11,130 feet of elevation loss in 47.5 miles. Day 2 had 5,670 feet of elevation gain and 8,000 feet of elevation loss in 27.5 miles.
I passed signs like this many times throughout the fastpack. The smoke was the worst above 5,000 feet.
Trail and terrain
After having run 15 miles out from Snoqualmie Pass (to just above Park Lakes) and then back for a training run, I was worried the terrain on the trail was going to be rough the entire way, as that is how most of the way to Park Lakes is. I was delighted to find that most of the trail was quite runnable. It was enjoyable to run! I felt my feet and joints were well prepared for the technicality of the trail.
Much of the trail looked like this!
Camp
Making camp was the highlight of the journey. I knew when I reached the halfway point, the bridge at Spade Creek, (what I called "The Bridge of No Return"), I was not going to make my 50-mile destination before nightfall. I called it The Bridge of No Return because my husband and I agreed that if I made it beyond that bridge and had a problem, I would continue toward Snoqualmie Pass, and he would start from there and head north. If I hadn't made it to the bridge and had a problem, then I would head back for Stevens, and he would head south towards me from there. At any rate, I knew I could at least get up and over Escondido Ridge before it got dark, and then I would look for a campsite somewhere around 45 miles.
The climb up the ridge is six and a half miles, and while gradual and often runnable, it seemed to go on forever. There are several false summits, and I knew the ridge crested at 43.3 miles according to the map, but my watch was telling me I had already gone 43 miles, and I wasn't there yet. I finally got over the ridge at 8:15 pm, exactly as I had estimated. Daylight was departing fast, and I encountered a sign that said, "Please do not camp for the next two miles; sensitive area." I peeked at my watch and vowed not to camp until two miles had passed.
By 8:39, I had to pull out my mini headlamp, which I brought for camp, not hiking or running in the dark. I held it low, and it did pretty well. I only stumbled a few times. By 8:50, it was completely dark, though a half moon gave enough light for me to see the silhouettes of trees against the sky. I hoped out loud numerous times to get out of the sensitive area, which turned out to be the Lemah Burn of 1994, and find a flat spot to bag down.
I began the switchbacks down the ridge and soon, after getting past two miles, I saw a bright light ahead. I was happy to see two thru hikers with headlamps making their way north. They were headed for the ridge top to camp, and they told me that if I was desperate, there was a flat-ish spot about .2 of a mile away. I was desperate indeed, as it was 9:30 at this point and I knew John and my friends and family following along would be getting worried. It wasn't but one or two switchbacks later that I entered the forest and found a spot big enough and flat enough for me to camp. It wasn't really a campsite, but it would do.
I removed my vestpack and set it down against a log, taking out everything I would need for camp and placing everything food related inside my pack. By this time, it was 9:45 pm, and I was happy to have stopped moving. I changed into my sleeping clothes and put my running shirt inside my pack since I spilled Perpetuem on it. I then hung up my pack on a huge branch of a fallen tree, which took a while because I pulled the wrong end of the cord I brought and it ended up a bird's nest. Pack secured, I set up my "tivy" (bivy-tent), which meant staking the front two corners and the top center, and placing my running pole up the middle. By 10:45, I was inside my sleeping bag, trying to get comfortable.
Even though camp was above 5,100 feet and I could see my breath, it was a warm night. I left my sleeping bag open most of the night and didn't wear my down hood. Instead, I used it and my shorts, socks, and running bra inside my sleeping bag stuff sack as a pillow. I took 3 mg of time-release melatonin and acetaminophen with codeine. I slept, but not very well, constantly turning to try to get comfortable. I found sleeping on my side tough because one leg laying atop the other made the leg on bottom ache, and sleeping on my back made the backs of my knees and lower back hurt. Eventually, I slept well enough to dream. I was awakened at one point by voices, and turned to watch as two runners went by with headlamps. It was 11:55 pm.
I got up at 6:05, eager to see just what my camp looked like. I was pleased to see that my pack was hung safely a good distance away, and my tent was in a reasonably flat spot. I was just out of the burn area, too. While I packed up camp, I boiled some water to hydrate some freeze dried risotto. Even though it sounds like a rough night, it wasn't. I was pleased with my tivy, which breathed well and had no condensation, and also happy with how unafraid I was.
I had already taken the stakes out, so my tivy is collapsed, but you can see how the spot was just big enough for me.
Food
This is one area that needs work. I brought 18 servings of Perpetuem for both days, the idea being I would have one every hour. Perpetuem is a powder you mix with water. I like it as a thin paste that I can sip. I also had Tailwind, which I mixed in my drinking water to give me carbs and electrolytes. For solid food, I brought three wraps made from mini, three-inch tortillas, almond butter, and banana slices. I also had vegan jerky and two freeze-dried meals.
I was happy with the Perpetuem and Tailwind. I would not put banana inside the wraps except for maybe the first one to be eaten. The bananas started to ferment and were gross. The jerky was great, and I loved the risotto. I am sure I would have also loved the spaghetti, but I never got to eat it.
My plan was to eat two wraps spaced out during the first day, snack on the jerky, and put what was left of it in my risotto when I stopped to make dinner. The only problem was that I never stopped to make dinner. I just didn't have time. Instead, I ate the third wrap and didn't have the risotto until morning. I made it at camp and then let it steep while I ran to South Lemah Creek. It was one of the best breakfasts I've ever had, simply because I was happy to be eating a real meal. I never stopped to make the spaghetti since I was already two hours behind schedule the second day and didn't want to be too late in case John wasn't getting my Spot tracks and was waiting for me for hours at Snoqualmie Pass.
Next time, I will bring fewer wraps, more savory snacks, and make sure that I plan for no more than 40 miles of running in one day. That way, I can have enough time to stop and cook a dinner.
Water, a related topic, went well. I had made a list of year-round water stops and their mileage, as well as landmarks and junctions. Unfortunately, I lost this piece of paper somewhere before Mig Lake, which was only 7.5 miles in. I went from memory and only had one time when I ran out of water on Cathedral Pass. Within 30 minutes, I made it to Spinola Creek where I filled up my water bladder. My Katadyn Be Free soft bottle with a filter built into the lid is fantastic!
Gear
I am extremely happy with several of my gear items: Z-Packs 30 down sleeping bag, Katadyn Be Free water bottle, homemade tivy, Garmin Fenix 5X GPS watch, Merrill Agility Peak trail shoes, Black Diamond Z-Pole, Ultimate Direction bladder, Montbell down jacket, and Ibex Woolies 3 pants. Particularly, I love the Katadyn Be Free water bottle. The filter is built into the lid, which also has a cap so you don't have to worry about contaminating the part you are going to drink from. It was so refreshing to be able to drink to my thirst's quench after dipping the bottle into a freezing cold creek. I also used it to fill my bladder; I could easily squirt the water into it from the bottle. Also, my Garmin watch came through for me whenever I needed it--and I did need it a couple of times. The trail to Peggy's Pond was unmarked, and I also started down a trail to a lake once by mistake. I was able to right my course quickly with the Fenix 5X. I also was pleased with my shoes--remarkably, my feet didn't hurt after the first day. I did develop a blister on the inside of my left heel, which has never happened before.
The GoPro Session 5 performed well. Weighing in at two and half ounces, and being only one inch square, it was the perfect camera to take. I took over a hundred photos and more than a dozen videos. The color and exposure are a bit flat, but the videos are smooth. Since John installed the update from last year, it has worked perfectly.
I was satisfied with my HydraPak Flow water bottle for mixing Perpetuem in, my Ultimate Direction Fastpack 20, my Roadrunner 8-inch compression shorts, and most of my other clothes. The water bottle was fine, but if I squeezed it too hard by squishing into my vest pocket with too much Perpetuem in it, it leaked out the top. I just had to be careful. My vestpack is a great size, but the fit just isn't quite right. It isn't women's specific, so it tended to shift to one side or another if there was any imbalance to how I had it packed. Ultimately, my pack was too heavy for me at eight pounds, 13 ounces fully loaded--but that's not the pack's fault. It did chafe on my back on the left side where the bottom of the pack rubbed against me, but I think that was more the fault of the shirt I was wearing. The rest of my clothes performed fine.
I can't say for sure that the Spot Gen 3 Satellite Messenger performed badly, because it's performance may have been my fault. I thought much of the way would be in forest, but the forest was subalpine so the Spot should have easily sent tracks every 10 minutes like it was supposed to. The tracks were sporadic at best, and while all the OK messages I sent came through, people had hours without knowing where I was. However, I had it in the mesh pocket of my vest, and that probably prevented it from sending a signal. I tried it on the outside of my pack on my shoulder on the Cascade Pass to Stehekin run, but it flopped too much and made my collar bone sore. This is something I will need to work on if I do another run.
I was unhappy with my running shirt from Athleta. I chose it because it was white, had an SPF of 50, and was loose fitting. White and loose fitting keep you cool in the heat, and the SPF gave good sun protection. The drawback to the top is that it had a tulip back, which meant that it overlapped in two pieces like upside down tulip petals. The result was that the shirt didn't quite cover my lower back on the left side, which allowed my pack to rub directly on my skin. I have a pretty large welt there now. The shirt also got really dirty, and after two washings it is dingy but clean enough. White was not a good choice.
Smoke and weather
Originally, I was supposed to go on my fastpack on August 21 and 22, but I opted to go early because the smoke from the wildfires was supposed to be slightly better and projected to get worse on the 20th (which it did). Also, there were supposed to be thunderstorms in the mountains on the 21st and 22nd.
As it turned out, for my journey the smoke was terrible in the mountains and probably pretty unhealthy. It impeded the scenery entirely and was worse above 5,000 feet. I could smell it when I got to higher elevation, and the day after my fastpack, my throat was sore and my voice hoarse. Experts say the lungs repair themselves, so hopefully I didn't do any permanent damage. I met people from Belgium, Germany, and Iowa, to name a few places. One hiker I stopped to chat with after cresting Chikamin Ridge was from Cleveland. He was looking out at what would have been a view of Mt. Rainier instead of smoke. I told him I was sorry he couldn't have seen it the way it should be.
As for the weather, it was quite warm. There was an inversion zone, which keeps the smoke trapped, and the warmer temperatures are actually up high. I have grown accustomed to running in the heat this summer, so it wasn't really a problem. With the warm weather comes bugs. They were about what I expected. I used Permethrin on my clothes and no bug spray on my skin. I got some bites, but not too bad. I mostly got them on my back when I took my pack off to get water and then the stupid petal back of my shirt would drape open and bugs would feast. I wore mosquito netting around my head the afternoon of the first day but didn't have any problems the second day.
People
If you want solitude, don't choose Section J of the PCT, at least not in August. Except for at night when I was hiking in the dark and most everyone had tucked into camp somewhere for the night, I always felt like I was among people. And even when I was on the trail at night, I saw a couple hiking in the dark. The first day, I saw 98 people, not including those camped in tents. I only counted the people I encountered on the trail itself. The second day, I counted 129 people. I knew there would be more as I drew closer to Snoqualmie Pass. I didn't mind there being people; it just wasn't what I expected. Everyone was friendly, and I felt safe. Going earlier in July, or perhaps later in September, would have been better in terms of solitude, smoke, and bugs.
Just beneath the waterfall in blue is a hiker praying or meditating. Just as I got to where he was, three people were coming down at the same time.
Conclusions
In all, I haven't really been able to determine what effect this experience has had or will have on me. I certainly learned something about mind over matter. Somehow, having to go 27 miles the second day didn't sound that daunting in the morning, and I can't really explain that. When I had about two and a half miles to go to Snoqualmie Pass, John appeared on the trail. At that point I was alternating running and walking down the trail. It was pretty rugged, so I used my pole as much as possible and found it less painful to run if the terrain would allow it. As soon as I saw John, it was as if a switch in my brain flipped. Walking became slow and painful, as if my body suddenly got through to my brain and said, "We're done." Fortunately, talking to John distracted me the last couple of miles. It was so great to see him!
What would I do differently? If I were to do this section again, I would probably opt for three days instead of two. I think 40 miles the first day is a better max distance for me, at least with this amount of elevation gain and loss. Thirty-five miles would have been too far for the second day. Two other PCT sections in Washington are just under 70 miles, so perhaps those will be better accomplished in two days. Wait, am I already talking about doing another section?
I need some time to process all that I saw and all that happened in my two days of running Section J Southbound on the PCT. I hope to get a detailed post up within the week, but meanwhile, I thought I post briefly with some highlights of my two favorite sites.
The smoke from the wildfires impeded the views entirely, but I still found beauty along the way. In particular, I loved the beginning of the climb to Pieper Pass on the first day, which was switchbacks through granite. The soil was white granite sand, so the trail was white and it was surrounded by white granite boulders. It was pristine. At the floor of the climb, the rocks were dotted with heather and other wildflowers, as well as some short evergreens.
As I approach the climb to Pieper Pass, I turned to look back (north) at what I had just run. From here, the trail switchbacks up to the left (west) through a huge granite-covered slope.
The other area that I loved was on the second day as I began the climb out of the Waptus River basin to Chikamin Ridge. There was a section of burnt forest (Waptus Burn area) with purple fireweed blooming amongst the silver trees with a backdrop of a granite wall.
The burned trees here still had their bark, but a short while later, the bark gave way to silvered wood, and pearly everlasting was the more common wildflower.
It was the hardest physical challenge I have ever undertaken. Heck, Saturday was the longest, hardest run I've ever done (47.5 miles), and then the next day I got up and ran a marathon (27.5 miles)! I am very, very sore today. Much more to follow.
As I anxiously watch the air quality index, I figure it's time to get my pack ready in case I decide to go right away on my two-day run southbound on Section J of the PCT. We have had smoke in the Seattle area from forest fires in BC, Canada, and in eastern Washington, and the air quality index was 179 yesterday, classified as "unhealthy for everyone." Yikes. I may decide last minute to go the next day, and I want my pack ready.
Here's what's in my pack:
Note: I changed out #20 for a taller, narrower bottle (same brand). It fits in my front vest pocket better, is still 17 oz., and has a wider mouth so it will be easier to put Perpetuem in it.
1. Montbell down jacket (for sleeping)
2. Ibex Woolies 3 pants (for sleeping)
3. Bug netting sewed to a headband
4. Sleeve Stars ankle compression sleeve (in case I twist an ankle)
5. North Face Better Than Naked tank top (for changing into to wear under my jacket)
6. Ultimate Direction Fastpack 20
7. Z-Packs down hood (for sleeping)
8. Reflectix (sleeping mat with an R-value of 9)
9. My "tivy" (tent-bivy that I sewed myself with Dyneema waterproof, breathable fabric)
12. Trail notes (junctions, water stops, maps of junctions)
13. First aid kit, hydration salts
14. Paper towels and baggie (for pottying)
15. Black Diamond Z-Pole
16. Bear spray
17. Petzl e+LITE headlamp
18. GoPro Session 5
19. Spot Gen3 satellite messenger
20. HydraPak Stow Water Bottle 17 oz (for mixing Perpetuem and Tailwind Recovery in)
21. Katadyn BeFree 20 oz water filter/bottle
22. Ultimate Direction 50-oz bladder
23. Hammer Perpetuem, 6 scoops per bag (2 bags plus one also inside #24)
24. Toaks Titanium 450 ml Cup, Evernew Titanium Alcohol Stove w/ 1 oz alcohol, 6 waterproof matches, nylon cord to hang my food in my pack at night, and Perpetuem inside
25. Tailwind Endurance Fuel (2 bags for 40 oz. and one for 32 oz.)
26. Vega Sport Energizer (for morning of day 2)
27. Tailwind Recovery drink (single serving for end of first day)
My pack weighs 8 pounds, 13 ounces without water. My goal was to have it under 8 pounds, and originally, it was 7. But adding things like a first aid kit, lip balm, an extra bag of fuel, and a slightly longer sleeping mat all ads up!
Here's what I'll be wearing for the fastpack:
1. Garmin Fenix 5X and Garmin Forerunner 25 (using Fenix for map both days and distance the second day, and the Forerunner for distance part of the first day)
2. Merrill Agility Peak trail shoes
3. Blue Steel Anti-Chafe Cream
4. Feetures cushioned socks
5. Prescription sun glasses
6. Moving Comfort Crossback Sports Bra
7. Moving Comfort underwear
8. Buff hat
9. Halo headband (has a channel to move sweat to the sides, keeping it out of your eyes)
10. Athleta Sunlover UPF Tulip Back Long Sleeve Top
11. R-Gear Recharge Compression Printed 8" Shorts
In the car for when I finish the fastpack, I will also have supplies. It will include
I am in the taper to my fastpack on Section J of the PCT, so I ran a short out and back on the Pacific Crest Trail today. I started at Snoqualmie Pass and headed south, where the trail begins in forest but then quickly relinquishes its shade for an exposed, rocky climb under motionless chair lifts. This was the only sustained climbing for the day, so it was really pretty easy.
Looking back at the ski lifts at the start of the trail
At about a mile, I entered the woods again as the roar of traffic subsided. The trail was lush and verdant, with gentle undulation and constant rocks to keep me paying attention. About two miles in, I came to an old structure--too big to be an outhouse but a similar shape--perched beside a pond. I encountered four northbound thru hikers early in the second mile as well.
In the center is the strange little building with round, metal openings
Around the third mile, I heard the noisy rush of cars from I-90 again, and a view of the west side of the summit presented itself. Soon after, I saw three more thru hikers. After crossing a talus slope, I plunged into deep woods for a mostly perfect path, occasionally interrupted by rocky sections. Then I was back into brush and rocky trail for a while. Eventually, I popped out onto a four-wheel drive road for about a quarter of a mile before grabbing the trail and forest again.
Typical trail with rocks, which look amazingly small in the photo
A nice section of trail ahead with small sections of rocks
The I-90 eastbound approach to the pass far below
Looking back up the trail from the same spot as the view of I-90 in the photo above
Soon, I crossed a dry creek bed and climbed some rocky steps. Around the fourth mile, I startled a large animal about five feet away from me, hidden in the brush. I didn't see it, but it sounded heavy. My guess is an elk or a bear. I don't think bears startle the way this creature did, though. The trail gave way to Ollalie Meadow next, where I saw four more backpackers, one of whom was definitely a thru hiker. The meadow was the prettiest part of the run, green grass with white granite and a view of Silver Mountain.
The rocky steps
I cross a dry stream bed. Shortly after, I spooked a large animal hidden in the brush.
Ollilie Meadow
Shortly after the meadow, I crossed a road where two cars were parked. I think it was the trailhead for Silver Peak or Mt. Catherine. After the road, I ran through a pretty area with shorter trees, likely a clearcut, and then into the tall woods again to reach the five mile turnaround. There was even a tree with a five on it on a small wooden sign.
Looking northbound in the clearcut
My watched chimes in at five miles, and I stop to take a picture looking back. I noticed the sign with a 5 on it on the tree.
I headed back the way I came and sent an Spot OK message. I tried to text John as well, but found I had no coverage. After another mile or so, my phone rang--my friend, Nicole. We chatted for a while and then I checked in with John. He said the Spot was doing a good job of tracking me, which is surprising since I spent a lot of time in the forest.
Once I was back on the road, I noticed that I could see the elevated part of eastbound I-90 where the Wallace Falls Trail crosses under it. I noted the short wooden posts marking the road as the PCT for reassurance.
One of many PCT sign posts
I-90 westbound elevated section in the distance
It seemed I was back in no time, and indeed, it took me less time to run the second five miles. It was an easy run, and a good chance to practice with the now-updated GoPro Hero Session 5 as well as the Spot. I have a better understanding of how the Spot functions in tracking mode and when sending a message. It can take longer than ten minutes to send an OK message, even with a clear view of the sky, and it is impossible to tell if the sending message light is blinking for tracking or an OK message. I determined that I will turn the tracking off when I stop for the night on the PCT fastpack so that I know when the message light stops blinking that my OK message has been sent. (If I leave the tracking on, it will continue to blink as it sends ten-minute tracking messages.) The GoPro was super easy to use. Next time, I'll have to take some videos, too.
It was also good to run a rocky trail to keep my ankles accustomed to the terrain I will face on the fastpack. I have one ten-mile run left, so I may do another PCT run next week.
Mornings such as this are to be remembered. I sit here with a view of Lake Chelan, the smoke mostly gone, my body tired but feeling pretty good, and I am surrounded by three people who love me. It's taper time, as I successfully completed my second biggest running event of the summer, Cascade Pass to Stehekin, as well as the always more difficult second long run the day after.
I turn on the Spot at the Cascade Pass Trailhead. John gave his final words of encouragement, and off I went at 5:29 am.
The run from Cascade Pass Trailhead near Marblemount, WA, to Stehekin, WA, was one of the easier trails I've run, and the scenery was majestic. The route began with a gentle and moderately technical 3.5-mile climb to Cascade Pass. I started at 5:30, so the sun was just brushing the peaks with a vivid wash of golden light, the half-moon still visible. As I approached the pass, the forest surrendered to an alpine landscape of purple heather and granite rock, the saddle swathed in light, shifting fog.
The approach to the pass is my favorite part! The heather was in bloom amongst the granite, and a light fog hovered on the pass.
I had the pass to myself, and paused briefly to take a photo before beginning the rocky descent on the eastern side. As I crisscrossed the mountain side north to south in short switchbacks punctuated with wildflowers, I noted the rush of wind or water each time I turned a northern reach. On the final switchback, the water made itself surely known, both in volume but finally in sight. To my delight, I had reached Doubtful Creek, for which there is no bridge.
The fog is mostly clear once I get to the pass, so I could see into the valley.
Finally I see the source of the sound--Doubtful Creek. Because of the sun, it is hard to see the creek in this photo.
The slope there was steep, so my way across was simply one level in a many-tiered waterfall. Huge granite boulders created a pool less than a foot deep. I removed my shoes and socks, tied them together, and looped my vest strap through the laces so I wouldn't lose them. The water was refreshing and not too swift. John's reminder to face upstream came to mind as I waded across maybe four feet to where the boulder protruded from the water. I sat on the warm granite in the sunshine to take a few pictures with the Hero Session 5, and then worked my way around a second, deeper pool.
The waterfall at Doubtful Creek
Soon after, I encountered two backpackers heading up to the pass, likely getting an early start to beat the heat. Next came the junction with Horseshoe Basin where I turned right and continued descending. At this moment, I recalled that there are grizzly bears in the North Cascades, and wondered why that didn't freak me out! I entered a brushy area that soon opened up to a charming, bouncy bridge across Basin Creek. From here, I ran in and out of the brush and dry stream beds, picking my way carefully through the rocks. I talked out loud to myself to let any bears or other predatory creatures know of my presence.
The junction with Horseshoe Basin, which is straight ahead. My trail went down behind me.
My route down from the Horseshoe Basin junction.
The bouncy little bridge at Basin Creek
Around mile nine, I entered a tall forest and encountered Cottonwood Camp and bear scat (not fresh). The trail followed an old road bed for the next seven miles with a gently descending grade and fir needle-cushioned tread. It was easy running and it was fun to watch my average speed rise from 3.4 miles per hour to 3.7. I continued to run through brush, huckleberry, and forest, most of the time unable to see much, occasionally encountering a rocky streambed. I noted the berries on the bushes and resumed speaking my unprofound thoughts--"There's some Indian Paintbrush, there's some more granite rocks, stay focused, 'mind in boat.'" I talked to John, imagining that he was likely in Winthrop by now having coffee. I talked to my dad, too, asking him to keep watch over me.
The trail widens when it reaches what used to be the Old Stehekin Valley Road. The river was particularly pretty here, as it shoots through a narrow granite wall canyon.
All the while, the rush of the Stehekin River was by my side to the south, a constant comfort that there was water nearby if I needed it. I refilled my bladder after crossing a solid bridge at the aptly-named Bridge Creek. Eventually, I reached the junction with the Pacific Crest Trail and left the old road bed. After going downhill for most of 12 miles, it was nice to head uphill, and the return to real trail was not too punishing. Having not seen anyone for four hours, here I saw a group of eight or so backpackers, the last of whom advised me that the previous hiker they had passed had seen a bear at the upcoming creek. I heeded his warning by talking out loud to myself yet again.
This part of the route was entirely in forest, and I found myself in a grove of huge, ancient cedars. When I came to the junction where I could continue trail for another mile and a half, or take a short trail to the Stehekin Valley Road and High Bridge, I chose the latter since the tendon on the side of my left ankle was giving me a little trouble.
I was glad to have made the choice, since the river crossing at High Bridge was beautiful. I tried to take a picture but the GoPro was refusing to take pictures (and had been for quite some time). I believe it needs an update, as we have never done so since buying it last year. The last 13 and a half miles were on the road, which changed from gravel to pavement and back again numerous times. It seemed to go on forever. The ever-present river made a nice water stop. The day was getting hot, and shade less frequent, so the wind picking up was a welcomed treat. I knew it also meant that the boat ride from Chelan to Stehekin was rough and unpleasant for John, Dana, and Jill.
Eventually, I passed the orchard and the school house, and finally encountered the bakery where the red shuttle bus was stopped to let eager tourists make pastry purchases. I asked the driver how much farther to Stehekin, and she said two miles and asked if I was doing OK. I made up my mind to run the final two miles to Stehekin, as I was taking walk breaks at this point. I diligently stayed hydrated and while it was quite hot (90+ F), I felt pretty good. I was so happy to see the lake on my watch map--I saw it there before I actually saw the lake. Soon after, I saw Purple Point, my rendezvous with John, Dana, and Jill. I also noted the whitecaps on the lake and doubted that they had arrived yet. For one thing, I was half an hour early! I finished at nearly 1:30, just under eight hours. My speed averaged out to 4.1 miles per hour over the course of 32.85 miles.
I made my way to the bathroom where I changed out of my sweaty clothes into a bathing suit. I was reluctant to go into the cold water, not wanting to cause a heart attack. Truly, people lost in the desert have been rescued, only to die of a heart attack when someone hands them a cold bottle of water. The body can't take the shock. Instead, I dangled my feet in the water for a few minutes at a time and had my Tailwind recovery drink.
I was wary of getting chilled despite the heat, so I left the windy dock and went to the store and bought a Pelligrino and waited for the boat from my perch on the deck in front of the restaurant. I watched a large crowd board The Lady of the Lake, which pulled away at 2:00, heading for Chelan. At 2:20, I saw a boat approach (there was very little boat traffic due to the windy conditions), counted three people in the boat, and then saw Jill's signature coral outfit. I knew it was them and spread my arms wide as I walked across the parking lot to the docks. Because of the wind, they had trouble approaching. A man nearby saw what was happening and came over to help so I could hop in the boat. We thanked him, reversed the boat, and headed back for Chelan, 56 miles away.
Happy to be on the boat!
Jill immediately presented me with grapes, nectarines, and apricots, and then a beer. I was so happy to be on the boat! We began the rough ride back. I was surprised to find that I was hot, even with the boat moving. (When we visited last year, it was cold enough on the boat to wear a sweatshirt and to cover my legs with a towel, and I hadn't been running all day.) The lake was littered with logs and branches and we hit one. The boat immediately lost power; the engine vibrated and sounded terrible. My stomach sunk, as I knew they would never have been out in these conditions had they not had to pick me up. We were still many miles from home with no one in sight. Dana decided to try limping back, which would take until dark. Suddenly, it seemed we hit another log, and two bumped along in our wake and the boat was abruptly normal. We think that the log was actually stuck somehow under or behind the boat, and when he bumped the second log, it dislodged. The boat was not harmed at all, thank goodness!
We capped the day with a fantastic Beyond Burger with lots of fresh toppings. It was so, so good! We all went to bed early, around 9:20.
The next morning, John and I got up at 6:00. I still had one more training run to complete. I planned to do 20 miles, heading up the hills that surround Lake Chelan. There is a dirt road the goes up steeply right behind Dana and Jill's house. John and I hiked together up it for three and a half miles, and then I continued on my own and began running. I ran out of road at seven miles, so I had to head back down, knowing I would have to complete my run on the paved road. Despite this, I was frankly relieved because the smoke was getting thick up there--there were two wildfires in the area at Entiat and Winthrop--and I was getting anxious about getting overtaken by fire.
John and I hike up the dirt road together for about three and a half miles. I continued running and he went back down the road.
Going back down the dirt road, it was quite steep the last two miles. I had to walk because my quads were so sore and simply spent. I wanted to cry, but then I told myself (out loud) to toughen up, Ellen! So I laughed at myself and kept going. Once back on the pavement, I had John meet me with some water, as I was almost out. The air was clearer down below, but the road has no shade and my legs were shot. I made a deal with myself that if I ran without any walk breaks for the next two and a half miles, that I could turn around and walk back to the house, topping out at 18.5 miles. I could have walked an additional mile and a half, but 18.5 put me at 71.5 miles for the week, significant because I have to do 71.3 on the PCT. I figured that was enough, and everyone was waiting for me so we could go to town and get coffee.
I was so happy to be done! John met me out at the top of the driveway.
The rest of the day, I hobbled around and enjoyed myself. We wine tasted, had lunch at Karma (vineyards and bistro), and then dinner at Sorento's. Though we only had a few vegan options, our meals were delicious! I had a green hummus, made from fresh-picked garbanzo beans and a flatbread with marinara and vegetables for lunch, and then pasta with artichokes, roasted mushrooms and tomatoes, olives, white wine and herbs for dinner. We had brownies and blueberry pie that I'd made at home for dessert! I woke up this morning feeling great with just a little residual soreness in my quads. I am taking a rest day, as Jill and John are hiking with Jill's friend Linda and Dana is walking to the store to get his blood flowing. I am looking forward to a day relaxing on the lake!
We get ready for a late dinner at a winery! The sun was red because of the smoke from the forest fires.
It feels wonderful to have accomplished my goal! I would love to hear what goals you have, and I am happy to lend any advice if I can. I know that my fastpack on Section J of the PCT is going to be the hardest thing I have ever done in my life, so I also welcome any encouragement or advice you may have!
I set out at 5:30 this morning on the PCT from Snoqualmie Pass to do 30 miles, out and back. My goal, besides training, was to see all but six miles of what I will have to do the second day of my PCT Section J Southbound fastpack in exactly four weeks from today. In addition to the terrain and elevation gain/loss, I learned a lot about water and my gear. It was a good experience, rounded out by meeting some southbound through hikers.
I got up at 4:00 to eat breakfast and pack up. I had prepared everything the night before, so it was fairly quick. I was out the door by 4:30. Note the darkness outside the screen door!
I found the run up to the Kendall Katwalk to be fairly easy in terms of the grade, but a bit rocky. I had to be careful of my footing after the first half mile the entire day. There was lots and lots of granite throughout the 15 miles of trail, the mostly sharp and pokey kind that seems to grab your feet, along with some basalt (I think). After the Katwalk, I climbed another thousand feet to reach right around 6,000. It wasn't too bad in terms of feeling the elevation, but the trail was super rocky after the Katwalk, with nearly three miles of talus slopes/scree with little in the way of runnable trail. It was slow going. My average of 3.0 miles per hour dropped to 2.9, then 2.8, and then 2.7 when I stopped to fill up on water just after turning around.
Throughout the day, I had views of Mt. Rainier. It looks tiny in the photo due to the camera, but the mountain loomed impressively on the horizon all day. You can see my bug set up on my hat, too!
I reached the Kendall Katwalk just before 7:30. It was lovely to have it all to myself n the soft morning light.
I really enjoyed the view of Joe Lake (lower left). After cresting a ridge, I dropped down toward it (but never to it) and eventually ended up on the other side, climbing up again and then going beyond it. It was my favorite lake view of the day.
I found the terrain, not the elevation, to be challenging, more so than I had hoped. It took me half and hour longer than my long end of the time estimate I gave John when I left. I am still concerned about being able to do 50 miles before dark on the first day of the PCT fastpack. On the bright side, I did get better at crossing scree, seeing some of it as "big gravel." I also learned to use my pole in a new way. I developed a sort of run/walk rhythm with the single pole: I would leave the pole firmly planted for two swings of my other arm instead of lifting it for each alternating arm swing. While the pole was down, I would run left right left and then walk for the final right, plant the pole again, run left right left, walk right, and so on. It served me well in crossing rocky or steep terrain, whether it was up or downhill.
I was pretty impressed that I crossed the talus slopes, so I looked back to take a picture. The red line marks the trail. However, I didn't know that I had another solid mile and a half of scree coming up! What I had crossed so far paled in comparison because it was broken up with short sections of nearly runnable trail.
This is a sampling of what I had in store for me still. Large rocks, un-runnable without a break for a mile and a half. I wrenched my ankle and jarred them plenty of times. In this photo, Mt. Baker is in the middle on the horizon. It was my only view of Mt. Baker that I noticed.
The most interesting thing that happened today had to do with my water supply. I noticed early on that I was really sweating at the small of my back. My shirt was wet and clammy. It's the first time I had worn the shirt, so I blamed the shirt. It even wicked onto my pack. Hmmm. The thought crossed my mind that maybe my bladder, which has NEVER leaked, was somehow leaking. But I dismissed that thought since the Ultimate Direction bladders are so good.
At mile 13.35, there was a great stream, so on the way back I decided to stop and refill my bladder. To my surprise, the bladder was open! I had started the day with the bladder in the outside sleeve of my vestpack for easy access, but I found it moved around too much, so I moved it to where I usually have it, the inner sleeve made just for it. I don't know if I somehow slid the closing mechanism off then, just enough to cause problems down the line. But what I think happened is that it gradually worked its way off the top of the bladder. The closing mechanism has an loop to run a strip of velcro through so it can be held in an upright position. With the mechanism being slightly off and then all the jostling around as I ran, I think it just slid off. I had very little left in my bladder. I would say about half of it had leaked out. No big deal because I had my Katadyn soft bottle with a filter built into the cap.
This brings me to lesson number five: don't let the harassment of bugs get to you! The bugs were particularly bad at this stream, and in my rush to get the water and move along, I did something really stupid, the kind of stupid that's embarrassing to admit. I was supposed to fill the Katadyn bottle, put the cap with built in filter on, and squirt it into my bladder. But what did I do? I just dumped the water from my Katadyn bottle right into my bladder! At least I realized it before I drank the water. I dumped everything out of my bladder and had to settle for the .6 liter Katadyn. Fortunately, there was water again around mile 9, and again at 7, and yet again at 3.25 (miles from the car). I was never thirsty today.
I also brought an extra food item, which may sound trivial (a Clif Bar) but I never depleted my glycogen stores today, evidenced by the fact that my legs never got shaky. Now I know I did a lot of hiking because of the rockiness, but I covered 30 miles and had 9970 feet of elevation gain and loss. My conclusion about future long runs is that I need to hydrate better and eat more instead of relying on gels, Perpetuem, and Tailwind.
One small thing to correct is my hat and bug netting set up. I sewed bug netting to the inside rim of my hat and put a tiny piece of velcro on the top so I could put it up out my face as needed. It worked quite well, but as long as I was moving, I didn't really need it. What I did need was something to block the sun from the back of my neck. I think I am going to take the netting off my hat and sew it to a small headband instead so I can put it on over my hat as needed, but then sew some kind of UV blocking material to the back of my hat to shield my neck. I know I can buy a hat like this, but I really love my Buff hat. I can hardly tell I have it on!
The highlight of my day, besides the incredible views, was meeting two incredible people, Susanna and Jen! They are solo southbound through hikers from California. I saw both of then (separately) in the first half of my day. I chatted with Susanna in the rocky switchbacks when she got her first view of Mount Rainier. She is quite the backpacker; she did section J in just three days! When I saw her in the last two miles of the day, I was beginning to think I would never catch her. And then when I saw Jen again right at the very end, I was surprised to learn that she, too, was through-hiking, and she had just completed 17 miles. They both looked so fresh. I thought Jen was just out for a casual backpack. I was very impressed, not only with their stamina, but that they were both hiking alone. We all ended up at the parking lot at Snoqualmie Pass at the same time, so I gave them a ride to the other side of the freeway to the Summit Inn, where Jen was staying (and probably Susanna, too, since the food truck and camping in its parking lot didn't manifest).
Sad note for the brother and sister through hikers from Buffalo, NY. They started their through hike by doing the California section, and then flip flopped to the Canadian border to work their way to the southern Oregon border. Today, they hit the 1000 mile mark! The sister was talking about a buffet at Snoqualmie Pass that she was looking forward to. I don't really know what's at the pass, but later it occured to me that she said something about a casino.... I wish I had realized it then, but Snoqualmie Pass and the Snoqualmie Casino are NOT in the same place.
I returned at 5:30 after a long day. I felt the best I have ever felt after a long training run.
