Benedict 100

The first hut trip I ever did was in 2002, to the Fowler Hilliard hut.  10 years later I had visited several more huts, and in the winter of 2012 we completed our first "hut-to-hut", from the Benedict Huts to McNamara.  This included an 8 mile route between the two huts through primitive wilderness that took our group about 9 hours.  Shortly after that trip I came across a notice advertising the "Benedict 100", a six day, 100 mile trip from Aspen to Vail.  Most days were between 12 and 15 miles, with a long day of 20+ miles.  I've heard that outdoor activities fall into one of three types:  1) "I can see myself doing that"  2) "I could never do that, but I can picture someone else doing that"  3) "I can't imagine anyone doing that".  For me, the idea of the Benedict 100 fell somewhere between #2 and #3.

A picture of the original Fowler Hilliard hut.  December 2002.

A few more years passed, and we began to build up more experience with longer trips, including a 4 day, 3 night trip from Camp Hale to Vail ("Hale to Vail!").  I also systematically began replacing old gear with newer and lighter gear; for example, I traded in my 50L/4.5 lb pack for a 35L/1.9 lb version, and my 0 degree/3.5 lb sleeping bag for a 35 degree/1.5 lb one.  But I never seriously entertained the idea of trying Benedict 100 until Kyle put in for the lottery in the spring of 2015, and got several spots for spring break 2016.  Alright, game on!

I'm a big believer in Henry Ford's quote "Whether you think you can, or think you can't, you're right".  That being said, if you are considering attempting the Benedict 100, but you're not sure if you can do it, please look into going with a guide.  As of 2019, Paragon Guides, and possibly other guides, offer Benedict 100 trips.  For our group, we never considered doing a guided trip.  Although there was some uncertainty about undertaking a trip of this difficulty, I think we were very confident that we had enough experience that we could be safe, regardless of unexpected things that might come our way.  But, make no mistake, this is a serious undertaking that puts a group in very remote places, where any combination of equipment failure, injury, or weather could have serious consequences.

Fast forward to late March of 2016.  Our group numbered five: myself, Kyle, Dave, Rob, and Tom.  Unfortunately Mark had been dealing with some knee problems and had to drop out.  After various discussions about logistics, we settled on the following:  Kyle left his car at the South Camp Hale trailhead, where we could resupply on day 4 (which happened to be the longest day).  We stashed a car in West Vail at a friend of a friend's house.  Tom's wife, Kate, then drove all five of us to Aspen, and afterwards she headed to Moab for her own spring break getaway.  In retrospect, figuring out these logistics may have been one of the most difficult parts of the trip!  In addition to our resupply at South Camp Hale, a few friends agreed to meet us at Shrine Mountain Inn on the final night of our trip.

After a day of driving and shuttling vehicles on Sunday, we settled in to our hotel in Snowmass Village.  We sorted gear, sat in the hot tub, had a few beers, a great dinner, and generally enjoyed our last night before the trip.

All of my gear

Dave, Tom and Kyle - excited to get going!

Day 1 - Aspen to Margy's via McNamara Hut and Spruce Creek

Dave, Tom, Rob, myself, and Kyle - ready to begin!

Staying in Snowmass enabled an early start.  The day was clear and not too cold.  We arrived at the Hunter Creek trailhead around 7am, and we were skiing short thereafter.  I vaguely remembered the route from 2012 when we had descended this way from McNamara.  We didn't have any problems with route finding, and were soon in the middle of Van Horn Park, enjoying the views of Aspen Highlands.  Light packs (I think everyone's pack was between 30-35 lbs) and light gear (Tom, Rob and Kyle were all on an NNN setup, Dave and I both had Dynafit TLTs and reasonably lightweight skis) enabled us to move pretty efficiently, and by 10:30 we were sitting on the sun-drenched deck of the McNamara Hut enjoying a second breakfast.

Approaching McNamara

We soon departed McNamara, and I was secretly confident that the route to Margy's would pass just as easily, and we would be spending a leisurely afternoon at the hut.  Shortly after departing McNamara, we realized how warm of a day it was as snow was continually sticking to our skis and skins.  This slowed our progress somewhat, as well as the continual dilemma of skins or no skins on flat-ish terrain.  Kyle, Rob and Tom solved this dilemma by leaving their skins on for everything (for the entire rest of the trip).  In addition route finding became more of a challenge as the route between McNamara and Margy's doesn't get traveled often.  We dropped into Woody Creek too soon, and were soon traversing steep slopes in an attempt to get to Woody Creek proper.  We didn't have too many more route finding issues from there, as the cutoff to Spruce Creek was well signed.  But this section had taken us nearly three hours to go 2.5 miles, nearly all of it downhill!  This would be a theme throughout the trip - the downhills can often take as long as the uphills.  The skin up Spruce Creek was a tedious slog, following old tree blazes.  By the time we traversed the south side of Mount Yeckel we were all pretty tired and anxious to get to the hut.  Luckily the last mile was pretty flat and passed quickly.  We reached the hut around 5:00 pm and I think we were all relieved to have the first day behind us.  We shared the hut with a large group of twenty-somethings (aka millennials) and quietly reveled in the glory of having completed such a long day.

Stats for day 1: 12.35 miles, 3,800 ft elevation gain, 9 hours and 35 minutes.  Strava

Day 2 - Margy's to Betty Bear via Granite Lakes and Road 505
In what would become our normal routine, we woke up early, made an efficient breakfast, and were on the sticks by 8am.  We quickly retraced our route from the evening before and made it down to Sawmill Park.  We spent a bit of time figuring out exactly where to exit Sawmill Park, but then enjoyed some very nice low angled skiing for a few miles before we contoured around a couple of small lakes and found the road that would lead us over to Nast and Road 505.

Leaving Margy's

Things had gone well up to this point; good skiing, good weather, and no real route finding issues.  All three of things would end soon after this.  For the next 3.5 hours, we thrashed about through the "Granite Lakes" area, finally winding up at the "Horseshoe Bend Ranch".  With the exception of Aspen and Vail, this was the geographic low point of the trip (8,800 ft elevation) and for myself it was my personal low point.  I remember sitting near the bridge that crossed over the Fryingpan River, thinking how it had just taken us 6 hours to go 8 miles (again, all downhill), wondering how we were going to make it another 7 miles to Betty Bear before dark.  In reality we had gone 10 miles, but still had about 7 miles to go.

Kyle and Rob - ready to tackle the road

We skinned a short ways up to the road, then put skis on our backs and walked Road 505 to the trailhead for Betty Bear.  We had done this route in 2011, so I knew exactly what was to come.  ~5 miles of boring road, followed by a steep climb to the hut.  I was mentally in a bad spot and lagged behind the others.  Oh well, nothing to do but forge on up the road.

The long road to Betty Bear

The weather had cleared up after a small front had moved through when we were back in the Granite Lakes area, and unimpeded by route finding issues we made slow but steady progress up the road.  I caught up to everyone shortly before we left the road for the steep climbing, and gradually my mood began to improve.  In spite of the increased effort from gaining more vertical, I was really enjoying the steep and technical skinning.  This last section passed by quickly, and we were soon on the gentler section that marks the arrival to the hut.  We arrived to at the hut in a surreal snowstorm, and were rewarded for our efforts with the hut completely to ourselves.  This is quite a treat for a group of five!

Stats for day 2: 17.8 miles, 2,800 ft elevation gain, 10 hours and 10 minutes.  Strava


Day 3 - Betty Bear to Uncle Bud's via Hagerman Pass and Turquoise Lake Road
We left again by 8:00 am, and headed for Hagerman Pass.  We had skied to Hagerman on our 2011 trip, and the route was pretty straight forward.  We arrived at the pass in a snowstorm, which quickly passed and as we descended Hagerman Pass to Skinner Hut we were once again treated with sunny skies.

Dave, Rob, Kyle and Tom

We decided to make a stop at Skinner Hut, even though it was about 1/3 of a mile out of our way.  Kyle was the only one who had ever been there before, and it was give us a chance to get in out of the cold and off our feet for a few minutes.  In what seemed to be our route finding challenge of the day, it took us a bit of time to find the correct route to Skinner.  We even descended a ways to the South with no luck.  Eventually we found it, and at 11:30 am took a short break.  We were welcomed at the hut by a group that was there for several days - and apparently they do this every year.  I can understand why - Skinner almost always has availability because it's the longest approach of any 10th Mountain Division Hut.

Skinner Hut - buried deep

After leaving the hut we had a great descent down Glacier Creek, made much easier by the fresh snow from the night before.  From here we had a choice of two different routes to get to Uncle Bud's: either follow the Colorado Trail or take Turquoise Lake Road around to the normal approach to Uncle Bud's.  After seeing the cutoff for the Colorado Trail, we opted for the road.  It was longer, but no trail breaking, and route finding would be easier.  I think this was a good decision, and we arrived at the hut with little drama.

The Colorado Trail.  We didn't take this route.

This was our shortest day (by time) so far!  We even had time to do a little scouting of the next day's route, so Dave, Kyle and I went to scope things out.  I wasn't feeling well and turned back after less than 1/2 a mile, but Dave and Kyle continued on for more than a mile.  This proved to be invaluable in helping our efficiency the next morning.

Uncle Bud's Hut

Day 3 stats: 15.2 miles, 2,800 ft elevation gain,  8 hours 17 minutes.  Strava

Day 4 - Uncle Bud's to Jackal

Up early on day 4

This was it - the long day.  Nothing really made me as nervous as this day.  20+ miles, much of it through terrain that doesn't get traveled very often.  We were up at 5:30, and were moving by 6:30, which was just about first light.  I don't think any of us had any desire to leave in the dark, and it didn't make much sense given that we struggle with route finding when it's light out.  Thanks to Dave and Kyle's scouting from the evening before, we made efficient work up the Colorado trail and were soon traversing the Northeast side of 12,313.  The terrain here is probably one of the more avalanche-exposed portions of the entire Benedict 100.  The Colorado Trail manages to sneak down slopes that stay around 30 degrees, but we were a bit too far east and ended up on steeper terrain.  We didn't observe any signs of instability, and in a few minutes we were in Porcupine Gulch.  We made our way up to the small saddle that separates Porcupine Gulch and Longs Gulch.  The terrain here is spectacular - the entire ridge between Galena Mountain and Homestake Peak was some of the most rugged and wild terrain we encountered.  The descent into Longs Gulch was unexpectedly fun, and soon we were traversing on the Colorado Trail towards Tennessee Pass.

Tom and Rob

The miles rolled by pretty quickly and before noon we had covered nearly nine of the 20+ miles on tap for the day.  We wasted a bit of time trying to find the correct way to drop into Mitchell Creek, but once on the correct route we made good time.  Kyle broke a pole basket in here, and we stopped for a quick field repair.  But it wasn't long before we dropped into the large open area of Mitchell Creek where the old railroad grade was.  Around this time some weather moved through, and we bundled up and fought the wind across Mitchell Creek.  It seemed like one of those slogs that could possibly take a couple of hours, but after only 25-30 minutes we were close to Highway 24 and didn't have much trouble finding a feasible route to cross the road.  With the exception of Road 505 on day 2 (where we didn't see any cars) this was the only road we had to cross, and was the only time during the entire trip that we saw any cars.  We hooked up with the Colorado trail again, and enjoyed another unexpected descent as we dropped into South Camp Hale.

Dropping toward South Camp Hale

The sun was out, we were making good time, our resupply was close, and the route to Jackal was the same one we had done in 2014.  I remember feeling quite relieved at this point, and spirits were high all around.  We were at the cars around 3pm, where we restocked food, switched out some clothes, and were soon on our way to Jackal.  We referred to the final climb as a "Double Betty", referencing the fact that the elevation gain (2,500 ft) to Jackal was about twice of what we did at the end of day 2 on our way to Betty Bear.

Resupply at South Camp Hale

I lagged behind a bit at the start, then moved on ahead as the climb steepened.  No doubt we were all feeling the effects of the day, but everyone handled it pretty well.  We made decent time (again thanks to the light gear and light packs) and before 6 pm we had started the final half-mile traverse to the hut.  It was amazing to look back South to Mitchell Creek (large open area in the picture below) and think that we had been there just a few hours ago.  It was even more mind boggling to think about how we had started at Uncle Bud's hut that morning, ~20 miles away.

Looking South toward Mitchell Creek

This was truly one of the most amazing days that I've had in the mountains.  We moved efficiently over large amounts of complex and varied terrain, had some great skiing under sunny skies, handled some weather that moved through, and made good route finding decisions.

Jackal!

Day 4 stats: 18.8 miles, 3,900 ft elevation gain, 11 hours and 43 minutes  Strava

Day 5 - Jackal to Shrine Mountain Inn (Jay's Cabin) via the High Route
Spirits were high on night 4, and I think we were all feeling good about having the longest day behind us.  The remaining two days traversed relatively familiar terrain - we had done a trip from Camp Hale to Vail two years ago.  That time we went from Jackal to Fowler Hilliard to Shrine Mountain.  We had hoped to do the "High Route" between Jackal and Fowler Hilliard, but ended up on the lower, longer Pearl Creek  route because of weather.  Two days going from Jackal to Shrine Mountain Inn had each been 6+ hour adventures, so I think we were prepared for another long day, as we were skipping Fowler Hilliard and going directly to Shrine Mountain.  Luckily our packs were even lighter because of the resupply and the fact that we had friends meeting us at Shrine Mountain.

Looking back at Pearl Peak from the should of Elk Mountain

We started around 8 am and quickly made our way down to the saddle and began the ascent up Pearl Peak.  Our daily route finding blunders made an early appearance, as we literally went in a circle on our way up Pearl Peak.  We had a good laugh and were eventually traversing the open slopes below Pearl Peak.  I was pretty excited as we crested Pearl Peak and scoped out the route toward Elk Mountain and the rest of the ridge.  The weather wasn't perfect, but it looked like it would hold.  The ridge to Elk Mountain looked more daunting than it turned out to be, and within 45 minutes we were on top of Elk Mountain and on the ridge proper.  It was quite windy but the ridge was fun, and another 30 minutes brought us to the south slope of Sugarloaf Peak.  This was supposed to be the crux of the high route.  We decided the safest route (not to mention the most aesthetic) route was straight over the top of the peak.  The southeast slope (the ridge) is the least steep, and the snow was very stable.  We shouldered our skis and Kyle lead up the 150 ft boot pack to the summit.  This was a great pitch - and really the only "mountaineering" portion of the entire trip.  We skirted down the north side, which had too many rocks to ski, and then put our skis back on at a flat spot north of the summit.  A couple more small bumps and we were soon at Ptarmigan Pass.  For the first time in 5 days we saw more than the ~10 people we had encountered at the huts.  There were a couple of dozens skiers/boarders making laps on Ptarmigan Hill, mostly with the aid of snowmobiles.

Ptarmigan Hill with Avalanche Bowl as seen from Wingle Ridge

We quickly skied down to the saddle separating Wilder Gulch and Wearyman Creek.  This was now familiar terrain, as in 2014 we had (mistakenly) skinned all the way up here trying to find the route to Wingle Ridge.  Although from the map it looked like we might be able to head straight north from the saddle, we traversed Northwest and followed our route from 2014.  Things seemed to go much faster than in 2014 (again - amazing what light gear and packs can do) and soon we were at the saddle below Shrine Mountain, ready to begin the final descent to the hut.  This seemed more arduous than it should have been.  Because of the proximity to the huts there are numerous trails to follow.  We ended up taking a less than optimal route, and found ourselves in a large clearing north of the huts.  By this time I was not feeling well, stopping frequently to fight off coughing fits.  But we soon made our way to the hut, and amazingly we arrived shortly before our friends.  This was our shortest day yet, and it was quite nice to arrive in the mid-afternoon and be able to relax for a bit.

Jay's Cabin

Our friends showed up with fresh food, veggies, and lots of beer and wine (but Mark forgot a sleeping bag!).  After 5 days of snickers, trail mix, and dried fruit the fresh fruit and veggies were a real treat.

Day 5 stats: 11.5 miles, 2,800 ft elevation gain 7 hours 36 minutes  Strava

Day 6 - Shrine Mountain Inn to Vail
The final day dawned clear and cool, and after breakfast burritos we embarked on our final day.  Our crew gratefully handled the cleanup, enabling us to enjoy and efficient and stress free departure.  The route from Vail Pass to Vail is known as the Commando Run.  We had attempted this in 2014, only to be thwarted by a foot of fresh snow that had closed Blue Sky Basin and the back bowls at Vail ski area.  We skied down the road to Red Cliff, and ended our tour at Mango's with beers and burgers.  It was still a great day - but not the ending we had hoped for.  With better weather, snow conditions, and confidence from the previous five days, it felt inevitable that we would be successful.

The route after leaving Shrine Mountain Road

It was a quick ski down Shrine Mountain road, and we soon left the road on the Lime Creek Road.  We generally found a good route to point 11,611 and then traversed over to point 11,710.  At this point we were quite close to the top of Pete's lift in Blue Sky Basin, and we saw a few skiers that had come from the ski area and were descending the bowl Northeast of point 11,710.  The views of the Gore Range here were spectacular, and we could see our high point for the day in the distance - Red Mountain (aka Siberia Peak).  We enjoyed great skiing on the north facing slopes down to Two Elk Pass, took a quick break for lunch, and then began our final ascent of the trip up to Red Mountain.

Starting our final ascent up Siberia Peak

We were right on the border of the ski area (Outer Mongolia Bowl), but we didn't see very many people.  This South facing climb was in the sun, and things were warming up and getting sticky.  We topped out around 1:30, and debated about our final route choice.  The true Commando Run doesn't drop into the ski area at this point, but rather traverses the top of the East Vail Chutes and follows a road cut down for several miles until eventually ending in Vail.  None of us really had any desire to slog on a mushy road for several miles, so we opted to descend on the regular trails of the ski area.  This brought us back to reality and the thousands of people skiing Vail that day.  It was an interesting juxtaposition to finish our trip in a crowded ski area, when we had only crossed paths with fewer than maybe 30 people the last six days.

And just like that, we had finished.  We had gotten separated at the bottom (too many people) but we soon regrouped and went for burgers and beers (I can't remember where).  It was a bit surreal that we had actually done it, and I think the effort of the previous six days, combined with the jolt of being around so many people meant we had a pretty mellow celebration.  There was the inevitable talk of "what's next", but nothing specific was planned.  I was content to savor what we had just done.

We eventually called an Uber and went back to our car in West Vail.  We piled in and drove to South Camp Hale to pickup Kyle's car.  Kyle and I drove back through Leadville.  It was a little bittersweet as Kyle and his family were moving to Mexico for the next three years, and I knew this would be the last hut trip with him for awhile.  At least we made it a good one!

Day 6 stats - 14.5 miles,  2,400 ft elevation gain, 7 hours or 2 minutes  Strava

Retrospective
The Benedict 100 unfolded just about perfectly.  We nailed the logistics, generally had good weather and snow conditions, no gear failures, no major route finding issues (although we tried!), and we enjoyed both the solitude as well as the meeting of other like-minded people at the huts.

I think we did an excellent job of packing light and using lightweight gear.  Benedict 100 isn't particularly demanding in terms of skiing, as evidenced by the fact that Rob, Tom, and Kyle all used NNN gear.  Although there were times I was amazed by their skill on these, and personally I was quite happy to have an AT setup.  I think the Dynafit TLT6 boots that I used were perfect.  I wouldn't want anything heavier (like a Scarpa F1 or Maestrale), but skiing with a pack I don't think I could get away with anything lighter.  I used a pair of Hagan Cirrus skis.  These are 75 underfoot with a 113 tip.  The weigh around 1kg (177cm).  The bindings I have are the plum race 170.  The skis worked well, even when we encountered deep powder.  But I think if I could do it again I would try for something a little wider underfoot - something in the ~85 range.  But I would still try to keep the weight at ~1kg.  From what I can tell as of this writing (2019) there are more options for this type of ski than there were when we did this (2016).  The plum bindings also worked fine - I never had a problem with pre-release and they held up fine with my weight with a pack (I weigh about 185, and my pack was about 30 lbs).  The bindings did seem to ice up more than my Dynafit bindings, but it didn't cause any major issues, and the weight savings was nice.

We were very meticulous about the gear we brought.  My complete list is here.  Before food and water, my pack weighed ~15 lbs.  We were also very careful about food - bringing mostly dried and dehydrated meals.  Counting calories also helped keep the weight down, and I think we planned on the following: 600-700 calories for breakfast, 1200-1500 for the trail (our days were long), and 1200-1500 for dinners.  I would say we actually ate really well, and even with being very conscious of weight savings we had high quality meals.  Certainly the resupply at South Camp Hale on day 4 helped, as well as meeting our friends at Shrine Mountain Inn on Day 5.

I believe the Benedict 100 has become more popular in recent years, and in 2019 10th Mountain Division Hut Association started offering a special Benedict 100 lottery.  If you are interested in doing the Benedict 100 route in the summary, check out Hut-Run-Hut.

Lazy Man's Hardrock

In 1991 Gordon Hardman placed a notice in Ultrarunning magazine that in the summer of 1992 there would be a 100 mile run in the San Juan Mountains of southwestern Colorado. Thus, the Hardrock 100 was born. The Hardrock 100 is arguably the premiere 100 mile mountain race in the US. The route starts and ends in Silverton, CO, and is basically a big circle encompassing the four mining towns of Silverton, Telluride, Ouray, and Lake City. The actual course goes through all of these towns with the exception of Lake City.

The Hardrock 100 has always held a certain appeal. I found out about it in 1995, when Doug and I met Rick Trujillo and Ricky Denesik during one of their speed attempts on the 14ers. They decided to climb the 14ers because the Hardrock 100 had been cancelled that year due to snow.

The are several challenges with running Hardrock. First, the qualification process requires one to complete another 100 mile race. Barring a major change in lifestyle and motivation, I just don't see myself training for any 100 mile race. The 2nd issue is that Hardrock can only accommodate ~150 runners each year, and because of this there is a lottery system for aspiring runners. The chances of a first timer gaining an entry via the lottery are somewhat less than 25%. Another issue is that the Hardrock 100 typically takes the winner at least 24-27 hours to complete. It takes the average person closer to 40. This means that a lot of the race is done at night, in darkness. While I'm sure this is a unique experience, I would much rather be able to enjoy the mountains during the day time.

So, in light of all these, I developed* what I call the "Lazy man's Hardrock". The basic idea is to do the Hardrock course in 4 days, spending the night in each of Silverton, Telluride, and Ouray. I'm not talking about backpacking or camping - but rather stay in real hotels with real beds and hot showers at the end of each day. The goal is to go as lightweight as possible, probably just carrying a small day pack with one change of clothes for the end of each day. (Note - this is just *one* change of clothes. Not a separate one for each day). With this, and some minimal gear (waterproof jacket, first aid, food, water, etc), I think each person would be carrying about 5-7 pounds each day, hopefully less.

Of course, it's still by no means an easy trip. Going in the clockwise direction, starting at Sherman gives the following distances and elevations:

Sherman - Silverton: 28 miles, 9020 / 9350 ft of climb / descent

Silverton - Telluride: 27.9 miles, 9943 / 7983 ft

Telluride - Ouray: 16.2 miles, 4390 / 5460 ft

Ouray - Sherman: 27.9 miles, 9609 / 10169 ft

Note that I took these distances from the 2011 course description. However, I think they are backwards as listed there. For example, they give the leg from Ouray - Telluride as having 4390 feet of elevation gain and 5460 feet of descent. But this is backwards - Telluride is about 1,000 feet higher in elevation than Ouray. So I think the way I have it is correct.

Of course this doesn't exactly split the distance equally for each day, but I think a shorter 3rd day would be nice, especially ending in Ouray with the hot springs.

One problem with this route is that Handies Peak is the very last climb on the last day, just before dropping back to Sherman. This would subject us to potential storms late in the day. If we were to go the opposite direction (Sherman to Ouray, Ouray to Telluride, etc) Handies would be the very first climb of the trip.

A brief description of each day:

Day 1. Starting at Sherman (9,600 ft) climb up to Cataract Lake at about 12,000 ft, and then descent to Pole Creek (11,300 ft). Then climb Maggie Pole Pass (12,500), Buffalo Boy Ridge (13,000+) and Green Mountain. Descent to Cunningham (10,500), then climb Dives-Little Grant pass, (13,000) then descend to Silverton.

Day 2. Another early start. From Silverton, climb up to Putnam-Cataract Ridge, then Cataract-Porcupine Pass (each higher than 12,000ft). Descent to to KT (10,700), then climb Grant Swamp Pass (12,900). Descend to Chapman Gulch. Then climb Oscar's Pass (13,000+) and descend into Telluride. Proceed to the Fat Alley BBQ for Mitch Morgans.

Day 3. After a leisurely breakfast in Telluride, climb directly up Virginius Pass (13,000+) , then descend into Ouray. Spend the afternoon relaxing in the hot springs.

Day 4. Early start. Do the ~5,000 ft climb up Engineer (close to 13,000), then descend into Grouse Gulch. Climb up to Grouse-American Pass, then Handies (14,000+). Descend to Sherman. Drive home.

Here is some more insight into my thinking, in the form of Q&A:

Why not just backpack instead of staying in the towns? Wouldn't this give a more wilderness experience? My main motivation is to cover large distances each day, unencumbered by a heavy pack. Even a lightweight pack with everything needed for backpacking would still come in at 20+ pounds, which would be quite a challenge given all of the vertical. As I get older, my body really appreciates the recovery that comes from a nice shower and a comfortable bed.

Why do it in just 4 days? Why not take more time? Well, as a husband / father it's tough to get away for more than a few days. Of course I would love to spend a couple of weeks exploring the San Juans, but it's not that feasible. And as I stated above, my main motivation is to cover large distances each day, and the three towns split the route very nicely into four days.

Why go clockwise? This is a legitimate question, and I could possibly be persuaded to go counter clockwise. Going clockwise is described as going up the "steeps" and down the "ramps" (e.g. going up Virginius Pass is pretty steep from Telluride, going down Camp Bird Mine Road into Ouray is a much gentler "ramp"). I think this is probably easier on the body. It also puts one in Ouray (arguably the most enjoyable of the three towns) on the 3rd day, when ~75% of the route has been surpassed.

So that's the basic idea. The best time of the year is probably mid July - mid August.

Thoughts?

*Certainly I'm not the first person to think of this concept. But I haven't read any firsthand accounts. If you've heard of this before, please drop me a note.

Pikes Peak Marathon 2011 race report

Wow...it's been nearly 2 years since I posted anything. Not that there haven't been things to write about - it just always seems to be a challenge to find the time / motivation.

WARNING! What follows is a very long and self indulgent race report. I write these things mostly for self reflection, so that when I do something like this again I can look back and it helps me remember the experience.

After running the Imogene Pass Race four times (okay - 3.5 times since we were there in 2006), and the Pikes Peak Ascent once (2009), I decided it was time to step it up to the big boy race - the Pikes Peak Marathon. I qualified on the merits of my previous Ascent (4:09), and set a goal of sub 6 hours, based mostly on my performance at Imogene last year (3:54). I knew this would be a huge stretch, but it was March, I was feeling optimistic (5+ months to train, right?), and I figured I should put something out there to shoot for.

Training went reasonably well. I was pretty consistent in getting out the door, felt like I established a good base, did some speed work, some hill work (mostly on the treadmill), tried to squeeze in some long runs and trail runs where I could...but given the way life is (2 kids, work, remodeling, moving) and my previous running experience it was quite a challenge just to get in 5-6 hours per week. Multiply that by the pace I run, and that put my weekly mileage somewhere in the range of 25 - 35 miles. I had originally hoped to get in some high altitude work, a 14er trip with coworkers and a 3-2-1 session on Pikes, but that never materialized due to a variety of reasons. Oh well - I didn't stress it too much.

Race day seemed to come all too quick, and it was quite surreal to be standing in the middle of Manitou Ave on Sunday morning, just before 7:00am, looking up at Pikes Peak. I felt pretty good, not really nervous, just excited to get on with things. The gun went off, followed by a huge cannon, which I think took a lot of people by surprise.

I positioned myself in the middle-front of the pack, and focused on getting out smooth. I was passed by a lot of people on Manitou Ave, but I just kept reminding myself "there will be plenty of time to expend energy". I hit Ruxton in just over 4 minutes, and still just focused on keeping an even pace. Somewhere near the cog railway I switched to a fast walk, mostly keeping up or passing those around me. I looked back at one point, and I estimated I was pretty squarely in the middle of everyone. I knew this would make the Ws quite crowded, but I did not want to be one of those people who goes out to fast, only to slow down as soon as they hit the Ws. The Ws were crowded, but I was able to pass a lot of people without much of a perceived effort, and I passed the top in ~47:30. At this point I was feeling great, happy to be racing and sharing the day with those around me. The No Name aid station seemed to come quite abruptly, to the point where I had to double check with a volunteer that it was actually No Name. I was still feeling great at this point. I was running pretty much everything except for a few steep switchbacks, and generally found a good group that was going at about the same pace.

At some point after the Bob's Road aid station, I began to contemplate the enormity of the effort that I had yet to complete. The marathon is a total mind-f&%^ compared to the Ascent. At Barr Camp, instead of 6 miles to go you have 19. At A-frame you have 16 instead of 3. In retrospect, I wasn't prepared for this. But as I approached Barr Camp, I purposefully watched my effort, trying to move as efficiently as possible yet expend as little energy as possible. Normally this isn't really a problem, as I can power hike terrain at 10%-12% at around a 15 minute / mile pace without too much problem. On this day, however, it wasn't meant to be. 20:00 minute / mile pace seemed more reasonable, as my legs just had no power. After reaching the Bottomless Pit turn off, I began to lie to my self, a lot. "OK - just make it to A-frame, and you can have a break." closer to A-frame, it was "you can make it 2 to go, then a break", near 2 to go "just make it to the Cirque aid station", and so it went.

Somewhere below the A-frame, Matt C came flying by on the descent. Seriously - I'm can't actually verify that his feet were touching the ground as he passed us. We were on one of the more technical sections, in a veritable conga line of people going up, and he was running probably 6-7 min / mile pace going down. amazing. And for those who don't know, he's 47 years old. And for most of the summer he went fishing and ate ice cream with his daughter. A few minutes later Daryn Parker passed. He was no less impressive. The speed at which these guys run is almost unbelievable.

OK - so where were we? That's right...I was on the so called death march from Barr Camp to the summit. The 20 minute miles turned into 25 minute miles, which turned into 30+ minute miles close to the top. The last mile I didn't even look up until we made the final traverse that is right beneath the turnaround. And before I knew...I was there. 4:37+. ouch. 28 minutes slower than my previous ascent, and almost all of it between Barr Camp and the last mile (in 2009 I bonked pretty hard the last mile and it took 30+ minutes). I was actually feeling pretty good (probably because I was going so slow), so I grabbed a handful of grapes, and was out of there. At least, tried to be out of there. I would guess that people who summit between ~4:15 and 4:45 probably encounter the most people in the last mile. As opposed to people who are summiting in 3:00 - 3:30, who are encountering most people between 1 to go and A-frame. Passing is tough given the technical nature of the trail, but it is what it is, and next time I'll just try to be faster.

Somewhere above the A-frame it started to rain a little. Once we were in the trees it became pretty consistent. This made the footing somewhat better, somewhat worse. Somewhat better because I think it helped with a lot of the loose gravel, somewhat worse because of the slick rocks and tree roots. I got into a pretty good groove on the downhill, taking about 30 seconds to drink / eat at each aid station, and just cruising along at what was a sustainable pace. Somewhere below Barr Camp I came to the realization that I was actually going to finish this thing. I kept focusing on getting to the next aid station, and on the Ws I even counted the switchbacks (I knew there were 13 total), and this really helped keep me focused. "Okay - #7...can I get a 7? where are you 7? alright...7! can I get a 6?" silly, but it helped. I finally hit the pavement, and while the effort was tough, my body was in good shape, and I knew I would finish strong. Although I did have a flashback to the epic Julie Moss video.

I passed the Miramont Castle, saw the sign for the roundabout at Ruxton Ave and Manitou Ave, a minute later saw Molly and the girls, and then I was in the finishing chute. The volunteers asked if I was OK, and handed me some ice and the world's smallest water bottle.

Final time was 7:30:31. It was a humbling experience, and I'm proud to have finished. I learned a lot that is tough to put into words. Even though I didn't come close to meeting my goal, it was a fantastic day, and there is nothing to complain about spending all day running / walking up and down a spectacular mountain.

Some final thoughts:

Seeing Molly and the girls at the finish was definitely the highlight of the day. It's not easy hauling around a 4 year old and a 1 year old, much less waiting around for Daddy to finish when he's a lot later than he said he would be (I told them 6-7 hours). Chasing Audrey and Sydney around continues to be the best post run recovery. Although Sydney was more my speed. Whenever I was supposed to be playing with Audrey I would turn around and she would be gone.

The volunteers and staff for this race are incredible. They wait around for hours at the aid stations and the finish, stand in the rain and deal with sweat encrusted runners yelling at the them for this, that, and the other. And they do it all with a smile on their face. I received a ton of encouraging words from people at the aid stations, and it really does make a difference. And thanks to Search and Rescue as well. They're less visible than the people at the aid stations, but they are hugely important to the safety of the runners.

I'm not exactly sure what happened on the ascent. I could point to the lack of altitude training, but I was barely above 10,000 feet when I started to feel the lack of power in my legs. I could also point to the lack of a truly long "run" (the longest continous run I had was ~ 12 miles / 2 hours.) Although I had done longer trail runs / walks up to nearly 4 hours in length. And neither of these were issues last year at Imogene. Oh well - I won't dwell on it too much, but a little something to ponder for next time.

Along those lines, it's definitely a challenge as to how to spend the all important training buck. i.e., with only about an average of an hour or less of time to train each day, what's the best thing to do? I tried to loosely follow the training plan that Carpenter and Freim put together - which is roughly - run 5-7 times / week. Build up the long run. Add intervals and tempo runs. Add altitude. I have everyday access to a treadmill (at work) and reasonable access to the foothills of Denver / Boulder, but it's tough to make it there more than once every couple of weeks. I need to be more disciplined, but it's easy to fall into the habit of workouts that I do well, and avoid the tougher ones. I'm also still learning just how hard I should / need to push myself on the intervals and tempo runs so that I can still recover in time. ditto on the long run.

I was somewhat dismayed to see people still ascending into what was obviously a growing storm. I've done dozens and dozens of climbs to 14ers and 13ers, and whenever the weather is like that, it's time to get down! I guess based on my background and experience I'm just not willing to take certain chances. And I also find it pretty difficult to run myself into the ground, despite the fact that there are aid stations, SAR is out there, etc. There is something about the mountaineering ethos that says each person should be able to take care of themselves safely, and not rely on the others. With the exception of using the aid stations for water and food, it's very tough for me to deviate from this. i.e. I'm just not going to run myself into the ground.

It's now two days after the race, and my body feels pretty good. I didn't realize have any physical issues during the race. One small blister that I never noticed until after I was finished. Food and hydration was good. I ate a total of 3 gels, some m&m's a few grapes, goldfish, and 1/2 of a clif bar on the way up. On the way down I hit the gatorade a little harder, along with 2 gels, and some grapes at Barr Camp. I carried a handheld water bottle throughout the day and was pretty good about drinking.

I'm sure the inevitable questions are coming. What's next? Will you do it again? For the latter - yes - I'll definitely be back. It's an amazing race, and I would love to come back better prepared. As for what's next, I'm not sure yet. I usually like to put at least one mountain race on the calendar as a focus point - and I think next year might be a good year to do the Kendall Mountain race in Silverton.

That's all for now. Thanks for reading!

Golden Gate Canyon Trail Half-Marathon

Today I ran the Golden Gate Canyon Trail Half-Marathon. Although only 12.7 miles, as the website says "You won't be disappointed". Indeed, I wasn't.

I didn't really have many expectations for this race. I've wanted to do it for the last 3 years, but last year it wasn't run, and the years before it didn't fit into my schedule. I haven't run more than an hour since mid-July (this includes Pikes Peak - I certainly didn't run for more than an hour there), so I knew I wouldn't really be in shape to "race" it - but nonetheless I figured it would be a great run in a cool area. Because of this attitude, I think I tricked myself into thinking it would be easy. Alas, it was anything but.

I pulled into the parking lot at about 8:00am. The race didn't start until 9, but the directions said to get there early, and I wasn't sure how long the drive would take. I was dressed in running shorts, and short sleeve t-shirt, with a lightweight fleece that I never use for running. Of course it was windy and cold. good times, good times. I hunkered down in my car for the next hour, alternating between reading the New York Times and watching other races with their warmups - some of which were actually running up the first hill. As 9:00 neared it was still pretty windy and I even contemplated bailing on the race and just going to get some breakfast. But soon the sun came out and we all lined up at the starting line. I'm guessing there were 60-70 racers, and there were actually quite a few of us jockeying for position at the back. Adam gave some brief instructions, assured us that the wind wouldn't be an issue once we were in the trees, and then we were off.

I had studied the elevation profile enough to know that the first 2 miles were all uphill. Nice. shouldn't be a problem not to go out too hard. :) We were quickly on the single track and I settled into a nice pace of 12+ mins/mile with a couple of other runners. The effort didn't feel too hard, but my heart rate was definitely up there - I knew it would be a tough way to start the day, but one goal I had was to run as much of the course (all?) as I could. I succeeded in this for the first 2.5 miles, and then it got TOO STEEP and TOO ROCKY for the speeds I like to run speed I am capable of running. So I settled into a pattern for the rest of the race of power hiking the uphills and running everything else. Not exactly what I had planned, but there were some steep sections!

I started feeling pretty good around mile 5 or so. This course had a bit of everything - smooth and fast, steep and rocky, mostly in the trees, but some exposed places as well. The final climb was really tough - for the beginning part I doubt I was doing faster than 20:00 min/miles. The last 3 miles went by w/o issue, albeit slowly. My final time was a bit slower than I was hoping for, but given my lack of long runs it's not much of a surprise. The finish line had a ton of food - the homemade chili looked excellent even though I don't think my stomach could have handled it. I really enjoy these types of runs - low entry fee, no worthless shwag, and always plenty of food at the finish.

Here's my splits - I had problems with my watch and ended up with a couple of 1 second laps. Since my watch only stores 10 laps, I missed the last few splits.

Splits:
Mile 1: 12:35
Mile 2: 26:16 (13:41)
Mile 3: 38:44 (12:28)
MIle 4: 49:36 (10:52)
Mile 5: 1:04:21 (14:45)
Mile 6: 1:14:56 (10:35)
Mile 7: 1:27:11 (12:15)
Mile 8: 1:38:50 (11:39)
Mile 9: 1:52:30 (13:40)
Finish: 2:39:33 (47:03) - 3.7 miles = 12:42 pace. The last 3 miles I estimate were 10:30 pace.

Challenger Point and Kit Carson

just some pictures...Doug and I did this in 2008. I'd have to look for sure, but I think we did the whole trip in about 10:20 from the Willow Lake Trailhead. Awesome day.

North Carolina, Mt. Falcon, the lost key, and The Longest Run Ever

OK - y'all are going to get a recap of my recent running in one post. As Sandy would say - "This blogging stuff is hard work". Here are some quick thoughts from some recent runs.

We took a nice week long vacation to North Carolina at the end of June. It was just what I needed. I did a few runs through Wrightsville Beach, man it was hot! Any speed-up I was hoping for at sea-level was nullified by the heat. But is there a better way to cool off after a run than to jump in the ocean?

After North Carolina I did a run through Mt. Falcon. I had never been to the western part of the area before, and it was spectacular. I was the first car in the parking lot @ 6:00 on a Sunday morning, and when I finished the lot was full. I ran Turkey Trot to Castle Trail to Parmelee to Meadow Trail back to Castle. It was almost exactly 10 miles, and took me 2 hours. I ran the whole thing, stopping 2 times for shots and once for the bathroom. That climb up Castle Trail feels longer than Chimney Gulch / Lookout Mountain, but maybe that's just because I've done Lookout Mountain several times this year.

I've been trying to make it to the track as often as possible this year. One morning after 4 x 1 mile repeats, I was feeling really good about myself - I had gotten up pretty early and made it back home by 6:30. When I tried to get back into our house, I realized I had lost my key....oops. I knew Molly was still asleep, and I contemplated knocking on Adam and Elisa's door, because I figured they would be up...but instead I rang our door bell. Faithfully Meg started barking, and a few minutes later Molly appeared. She admitted to laying in bed and thinking "Why isn't Scott taking care of Meg's barking...", before realizing that it must be me at the door. Luckily this didn't wake Audrey up...that's never a pretty site...

On July 3rd I did another early morning run. From our house, to the Cherry Creek to Downing, around Wash Park, downing over to Cheesman park, 7th ave back to the Cherry Creek, and then home. All told it was 16 miles. It took me 2:45 to finish, after puttering along for the first hour, only finishing 5 miles. I had a minor set back w/ my fueling strategy - I usually do Clif Shots, but we didn't have any of those, so I went w/ some random shot blocks I found in our cupboard. Not the smartest thing to do @ 5:15 in the morning with no lights on. I ended up with one pack that was so old they were like hard candy, and the other was flavored "Margarita Salt". Whoever thought that Margarita Salt would be a good flavor for a shot block clearly has spent too much time at the bar, and not enough time exercising. They were awful. I think I ate a total of about 5 shots in 2 hours and 45 minutes - which is just shy of 200 calories. I think that's a little under the recommended nourishment.

16 miles was the longest run I've ever done, and all in all it was pretty uneventful. No blisters, no cramps - I didn't even get bored. running around Cheesman was fantastic - I had only been there once before during the half-marathon. It was cool to be up so early and feel like I had gotten so much done before the day even started. I was definitely feeling it the next 2 days - on Sunday I did a run w/ Audrey to REI and back, and the last 1/2 mile I was pretty tired. But by Tuesday night I was feeling pretty normal and did a 6 mile run. Not too shabby!

Rocky Mountain Half Marathon

On Sunday, June 14th, I ran the Rocky Mountain Half Marathon. This was my 2nd half marathon - my first being the 2008 Denver Marathon. Even though this wasn't really a target race I figured it would provide a good measure of my fitness and preparation for Pikes Peak. Well, let's hope not.

Let's cut right to the chase. I finished in 2:05:14. That's 22 seconds faster than the Denver Half Marathon. My goal was to break 2:00, and I fell quite a bit short. Instead of some mind-numbing boring stats, I think a really cute picture of Audrey would definitely spice up this blog.



Whew - I feel better already. How about one more?



OK - I know I said no boring stats, but come on - you didn't really think I would spare you of that joy, did you?

Here were my splits:

Mile 1: 8:55
Mile 2: 17:59 (9:04)
Mile 3: 27:13 (9:14)
Mile 4: 36:25 (9:12)
Mile 5: 45:46 (9:21)
Mile 6: 55:22 (9:36)
Mile 7: 1:04:57 (9:44)*
Mile 8: 1:14:31 (9:25)* (19:09 split between 6 - 8)
Mile 9: 1:23:58 (9:27)
Mile 10: 1:33:32 (9:34)
Mile 11: 1:42:57 (9:25)
Mile 12: 1:53:31 (10:34)
Finish: 2:05:14 (11:43 - 10:40 pace)

Somehow I missed the mile 7 marker, so the exact time for mile 7 and mile 8 is an estimate - mile 8 was pretty flat, mile 7 had a bit of a hill towards the beginning (17th and Federal). I think it would be easy to say from these splits that I started out too fast, since my first two miles were the fastest. Upon a few weeks for further reflection - yeah - I went out too fast. Mile 1 didn't feel that fast, but I should have really eased up when I passed it in sub-9:00. Oh well, there will be other races...

I also realized that I shouldn't be so tied to my watch, and I should just run. Once I hit the 9 mile mark, and new I wasn't going to break 2 hours, I got pretty discouraged. This is something I need to learn to deal with. For Pikes Peak I'm not going to memorize the exact time split for every last mile that I need in order to run sub-4 hours - this would just be counterproductive. I'm just going to run as smart as I can, push myself to the end, and see what my time is. I think I'll be a lot happier this way.

Overall I was pretty pleased with this run. I would have liked the run to have started at 7:00 instead of 7:30, it was pretty hot at the end. I also was a little confused because the course had a slight change in the early part that wasn't accurately reflected on the maps they passed out. It's not quite as nice a run as the Denver half marathon, as I don't really care too much for lollipop-style race courses, but I would definitely do it again.