Sandwich Range Traverse

I returned this weekend to the White Mountains, this time with a target to tag 4 to 7 four thousand footers.  I am on the quest to nab all 48 New Hampshire 4kers within a short three year period.

This a new goal of mine, which was spawned after Vermont100 and watching Western States 100 live.  I've come to realize that my motivation isn't to necessarily run 100 miles, but to run forever in the most remote places.  In looking at the ultra marathon races that most excite me, all have a common theme: Mountain running.  Vermont100 has its challenges, but the majority of my future races will require some new training techniques in order for me to be best prepared.  My future races include Bear, Bighorn, Angeles Crest, Ultra-Trail de Mount Blanc (UTMB), and States.  Running on Connecticut trails and roads won't create the legs I need for massive big step ascents and long quad shredding descents.  The White Mountains will be my playground for a while.

This was also my first trip solo into the Whites.  I've done a little solo adventure running and camping before, the most epic for was a 40 mile weekend in the great Smoky Mountains on Memorial Day weekend 2012.

After ordering a new past pack (Ultimate Direction Fastpack 30), I set out to map out the route.  The Sandwich Range Traverse caught my attention due the number of summits it tackles, but also the distance and timeframe.  Fast packers reported being able to finish the 20 mile full loop in 11 hours.  I then modified it,believing I could cover the same ground as them in 7 to 8 hours.  I stretched the route out to nab one more peak (Mount Tecumseh) for Saturday, and setting myself for the two Mount Osceola peaks on Sunday (Plan A).   If timing or circumstances didn't allow, I'd do the Sandwich Range Traverse only (Plan B).

Entry into Sandwich Range

I decided to leave early Saturday morning from Connecticut, leaving by 4AM, with a projected 4hour drive that should get me to the designated parking spot at 8AM.  To give me some slack for traffic, sleeping-in, etc, I targeted to start the hike at 9AM.

The unfortunate aspect of this loop, is it would require some road running along the Kancamagus Highway.  It is legal (I called WMNF the day before), and frequently used by bikers for day trips.  The unfortunate bit, while driving I measured off where I would exit the trail (Plan A) and the parking spot.   6.2 road miles.  Gawk.   More demoralizing was knowing the distance from the car to the entry point to the trails, was 6.2 miles further.  Not the ideal way to start and end an epic weekend of running - but there weren't any other options.

Road 10k to start along Kancamagus Hwy

The highway has enough room for you to run comfortably as cars approach.  The scenery was rather enjoyable as well.  I found the first 10k went without a hitch, other than some new pack adjustments.

Oliverian Brook Trail Pine Straw (early on trail)

Off the path cairn

I started out heading east bound on Kancamagus at 9:15AM.  Only 15 minutes later than I had planned.  The route planned was Oliverian Brook to Passaconaway Cutoff.  Oliverian was mostly flat, and very runnable (~1.9miles).  By the time I turned onto Passaconaway Cutoff, I had logged 8.1miles.  I had stopped briefly on Oliverian Brook to refill my water bottle.  The map showed plenty of water crossings most of the way, so I wasn't concerned.    The trail followed water until Old Mast Road.  When I realized that I should consider refilling my handheld, I noticed the water on the ground was dry.  I quick study of the map, and there didn't appear to be any water for hours, nothing above 3500 feet.  I still had a full 70oz bladder, but the recent climb up Passaconaway Cutoff had elevated my heart rate above 160bpm and I was now sweating.  I decided to pull back on the pace in order to conserve water.  I did stop for 15 minutes to enjoy lunch (12:15), home made re-hydrated BBQ Spaghetti.

I turned north onto Walden Trail, and my first really nasty ascent.  Climbing up, over large boulders ranging in height from my knees to chest.  This was a lot of work on the legs and arms.  Heart rate wasn't slowing down - it was going beyond 170bpm. Once the terrain leveled off, I was able to get some nice panoramic views of the valley and surrounding mountains (Hedgehog and Potash).  Mount Passaconaway summit (4,060') in the bag.

View from Mount Passaconaway

No time to rest at the summit, onto Mt Whiteface via Rollins Trail. This had more runnable descent than anticipated, and I ran it all.  I was fortunate enough to come across a wide stream, where I stopped for 45 minutes to refill all my water bottles.  This was a huge relief for me, as I was already rationing the water in my bladder.  Once I was at the stream, I discovered I was down to maybe 16 oz of water left.  Besides filling up on 95oz of purified water (courtesy of the SteriPen), I went ahead and made preparations for dinner by soaking my home made dehydrated Beef Stroganoff.  I was much peppier after this break, and soon found myself on the ascent to Mount Whiteface (4,015).  Not as formidable as Passaconaway's final ascent.  Not runable through.  The summit was anti-climatic for sure. Large cairn on the side of the trail marked the summit.  No breathtaking views here.  After a brief pause, I found my way to the Kate Sleeper Trail.


Rollins Trail

Snack option?

This section, by what I had read online, seemed to the best opportunity to really open up and get a long run in.  Unfortunately, the start didn't allow for it.  The descent was rocky, and at times slippery.  I was in the early stages of learning which rocks could be trusted over others, something I mastered before the weekend was over.   After the Downs Brook Trail, the trail seems to level out more and I was able to run as I had anticipated.  However, during my run through Sleepers, I discovered animal droppings that I hadn't seen before.  It looked like deer droppings on 'roids.  A big pile of maybe 50 droppings, each the size of a nickle.  At the same time I was inspecting this first batch of pooh, I noticed a rather 10" deep hoof imprint in the mud on the trail a few feet away.  While the droppings were dry, the mud imprint was still plenty moist.  One and one together makes - Moose!  I started running after that investigation, and noticed the trail was littered with piles of moose droppings.  I powered off the iPod now, as I didn''t want to miss the warning of a pissed off mouse.  This went on throughout the Sleepers and even well into the Tripyramid trail.



Kate Sleeper Trail
Given the southslide ascent onto Tripyramid trail, I was shocked to continue find moose droppings.  I can only assume they have an easier way up than I.  The southslide was intimidating.  Loose rock on top of large 3' - 5' large boulders on a very steep radiant, fully exposed.  A slip, and it would be a bit of a long tumble.   I paused here for a snack and some fresh views.  At this point, I knew I was deep in the hole for trying to get to Mount Tecumseh this evening.  I decided to make the call after I finished North Peak (4,140) & Middle Peak (4,110) - completing four new peaks in my quest for the 48.  I paused after the North Peak to prepare my headlamp - and at that point decided I would go until 9PM.  I projected that should get me to Waterville Valley ski resort and the start of the Mt Tecumseh trail.


Southslide

I misunderstood what was next

I was given a bit of a heads up by a hiker earlier in the day, regarding the rock slide on the other side of North Peak.  Either the description wasn't filled with enough adjectives and swears, or I just didn't hear it.

Northslide scree field

The next section made the adventure worthwhile, but also broke any attempt at reach Mt Tecumseh today and even this weekend.  When walking out from the wooded trail, and onto the northside scree field, I dropped the f bomb in disbelief.  The angle of descent was enough that I feared for a rock slide from above.  I was full of fear and amazement. I was fully exposed, trying to stay upright, with rocks sliding out from under me.  This was the second time that I turned the iPod off, hoping to get a moment's notice of the start of the rock avalanche I was sure to start.  The scree field went on beyond anything I could recognize as its end.  I looked for cairn, but eventually had to settle for the fact that a cairn would never survive on this.  'Someplace down below' was way down!.  After 1/4 mile (estimate), the scree field transitioned to steep slabs, in the same angle of descent as before.  At many times, it was worse.  I became an expert at understanding which rock surface my shoes would grip.  Rock slabs with green and dark brown coverings - I avoided as it was moss.  I didn't need to experience that more than once.  I also learned to recognize the black remnants left over from shoes.  Those were slabs to stay way from as well.  I learned that the hard way, after a couple of slips onto my back side. The slab section was even scarier than the above scree field.  One slip in this section, and there was nothing to stop me from rolling / sliding the next 1/4 mile down.  This section is listed as 1,200 feet in a half mile - and it can be 'dangerous in wet conditions' (per Application Guide Book).  'Dangerous'?  Downright impossible.  If I am ever to do this again, I will bring my Kahtoola microspikes.



Northslide scree field

That half mile took me an 1hr15m.  My pace was registered at 1mph for most of that descent, and that is because Garmin won't calculate any slower.  After clearing out of the wash at the bottom, I was back on trail and running.  Within a half mile I found myself at a very nice river crossing, ideal for rest and camp.  It was around 7PM, and I was mentally burnt out from the northslide.  It was time to setup camp, eat, and sleep.  At this point, I had made the decision to take the Livermore Brook Trail, which intersected at the camp, in the morning back to the truck.  It would be a short hike, and mostly a runable 4 miles.



Livermore Brook Trail
From North Peak to camp was only a mile.  I went from still believing I could bag three more peaks by noon Sunday, to tossing in the towel on those peaks.  I made the choice based on my desire to not lose an entire weekend of family time and safety.  If I made a go at Mount Tecumseh and Mount Osceola and its East Peak, I wouldn't have been home until 9PM or later Sunday.  From a safety perspective, I was able to knock out 22 miles without an injury (couple of minor cuts and abrasions). Going another 4 miles in this rocky terrain simple elevated the risk.  As I was solo, it didn't warrant it.  I've saved these next three peaks for another trip, possibly in September.

A quick recap of the night.  I didn't sleep well.  I came with a hammock tent with it's rain shield.  I didn't bring a sleeping bag as temps looked to be no lower than 55 degrees.  My only bag, a 15 degree down, wouldn't have fit the UD30 despite it's small size.  I did pack a waterproof shell, thermal long sleeve shirt, and Salomon Windbreaker leggings.  I grabbed an SOL emergency bivvy and the hammock tent bug netting as both would provide some extra warmth.  I was fortunate I brought it all. It did rain, and temps dropped quickly. I don't know if it went below 50 degrees, but I was shivering throughout the night.  After this, I will be in the search for a 35 degree bag that packs tighter than my 15 degree.


Morning by Avalanche Brook

I return to the Whites in two weeks with a couple of friends, as we make a push at completing the 31 mile Pemi Loop.  That is a story yet to be built.

Garmin Details:
Day 1:  22.1 miles, 9hr45m, pace: 26:30mpm, 5,600 feet gain
https://connect.garmin.com/modern/activity/853085026

Day 2: 4.0 miles, 1hr10m, pace 17:30mpm, 500 feet gain
https://connect.garmin.com/modern/activity/853085100

Remembering my first Boston

In December 2010, I decided to go after the marathon.  It was the one distance I had never attempted (I wasn't even considering the insanity of an ultra at that stage).  I announced to my coworkers, friends, and family, of my intentions to not only run a marathon, but to run a time that will get me into the iconic Boston Marathon.  This long term goal gave me purpose. 

My first marathon (Lehigh Valley, 9/11/11) started off well. Unfortunately too well.  I felt I could run with a group of a dozen runners striving for sub 3 hrs. My thoughts were to hit 1:30 and then hold on to a sub 3:15.  I learned my lesson that day (one I have repeated since), as I walked most of the last 8 miles for a 3:54. I had Hartford Marathon in 4 weeks, already booked, with Las Vegas 6 weeks after that. The general feedback was to not race Hartford (some said skip it), and go after my 2013 BQ (now dropped to 3:10) at Vegas.  Members of my running club, the Mohegan Striders, encouraged me to jog Hartford - a 2hr goal for the first half and then finish strong. The goal they said, was to finish without walking.  Much to everybody's surprise - even myself, Hartford resulted in my first Boston Qualifier in 3:08.  I went out super conservative, but picked up the pace as the miles ran by. I ran a near perfect even split that day.  When I crossed the finish, I erupted. I finally earned it.

I ran my first Boston Marathon in 2013, the 117th running, and most infamous run.  I didn't have the race I had planned for.  Too quick of a start was followed by cramping and walking near the end of Heart Break. Then downhill start took its toll on me. I was warned...but didn't listen.   I cursed at myself over those last few miles. The race wasn't as fun as it was supposed to be.  Why did I buy that framed plaque?  I want to return all my new Boston clothes.  Turning onto Boylston Street, however, all my pain and misery melted away.  I found my family on that stretch. Stopped and gave them hugs and kisses. Surrounded by thousands of people, time was irrelevant. I was here, Boylston Street on Patriots Day. I did finish, well off my goal of requalifying for 2014 Boston.  It didn't matter. I got my medal and gave the volunteer a huge sweaty hug.  I was on the runners high.

60 minutes later, while we waited at the bottom of the mall escalator, to eat at Cheesecake Factory - the world changed. We were within 1/2 mile to the finish.  We didn't see or hear it.  We exited the mall and walked 1/4 mile before eventually turning around.  Past a huge church amd it's wading pool (to be honest, people aren't allowed in the water, but I don't really know what it is). We were in the initial chaos of the moment. First police cars and ambulences. Police motorcycles riding on the sidewalk to get to thr finish quicker. It took us an hour to eventually find out what actually happened.  The hotel conceierge told us in our hotel. The lobby was jammed with marathoners. Many of them straring at television screens. To this day I feel my day was tainted.  I balance it however, knowing I was fortunate to have finished. I was fortunate to be uninjured.  I lived.  My family was with me, safe and accounted for.  My first Boston, like many thousands of runners that day, was stolen.

It took me a month to physically recover. It usually only takes me a few days.  Much of that delay was mostly mental. I was in 'no man's land'.  What is next?  Do I prepare, as originally planned, for my first 50 mile race in the fall?  Do I make the commitment to train for, and requalify for 2014 Boston?  It tore at me.  I had come short of my Boston goal, but I also knew 2014 Boston would be unlike any other.  Could I handle going back?  It took a short trail run in late May to help me realize that my goal was always Boston first, then Western States 100. I didn't want to delay earning my first WSER 100 ticket. I also knew that Boston would be in my future again.  So to the trails I went, into the psychotic world of ultras. 

Runners Report! (Trails are almost open)

Running this time of year, for many of us with blood type 'Trail', comes with a familiar routine.  Nearly every year I go through a transition. In talking to other running friends with similar blood disorder, I discover I am not alone.  We have accepted pavement as our means to sustain an aerobic fitness.  We maintained. Some even gained a few pounds.  These late winter and early spring days in New England however bring with them retreating snow lines. What was once feet of snow, is reduced to inches in a matter of days or a couple of weeks. Grey skies are now frequently replaced with beaming sunshine, and the days become noticeably longer. Runners can sense the difference in seconds from a sunrise & sunset from one day to the next.  We 'stalk' our trail entry locations.  We stare it down while running and driving by.  We assess the amount of snow. We project when it will be gone, down to the day.  We wait for the moment we self proclaim that the trails are 'open', and like all eager athletes, we 'report in'.  These are the days of playful slop.  We arrive home from our trail run, with orders from family to leave our mud crusted shoes and socks outside. It is still too cold to rinse outside with a hose. In most cases, the hose still hasn't limbered up from it's coiled position.  Quite similar to how my extremities feel.  My eagerness for early warm spring days always results in a few under-dressed runs, where an immediate hot shower is required in order for me to regain some form of elasticity.  We become re-familiarized with the trail stride, inconsistent stride length, lateral motion, loose footing, etc. With a racing season already inked onto the calendar, the play eventually dissipates and I find myself drafting my spring and summer training plan. This transition period from the winter 'off-season' to the beginning of open trail season reminds me of another familiar and exciting period.  "Pitchers and Catchers report!"  Spring ball.  Players begin their transition from a winter of conditioning, by arriving in sunny Florida / Arizona for training.  A playfulness is in the air, especially during the first few days/weeks.  Eventually it is down to business.