Within the first minute I was stoked to be on a new adventure, with many miles of trail I had never step foot on. A side note that I’ve been too embarrassed to mention until writing this: Until this morning I had never step foot on one iota of the Wonderland. I know, I know. Anyway, back to the adventure. The first couple miles went smoothly as the grade was gentle and I felt comfortable alternating between a jog and fast hike, all the while ensuring not to break out into a sweat. Around mile three I stopped to “water the bushes” and delighted in the color of my stream. Moments later I damn near lept off the trail in terror as a goliath-sized marmot with a hairdo like Magua from Last of the Mohicans decided to make his presence know not more than two feet to my right. Despite my shriek, he/she gave me a look of indifference before returning to it’s breakfast of roots and shoots.
With my first ferocious animal encounter behind me the trail grade rapidly increased and vertical gain began to accumulate with a quickness. Before I knew it I was standing in front of the Sunrise shelter, and while the sun itself had not risen, there was sufficient light in the sky to turn of my lamp. This fact also meant that no one who may have been in the shelter had yet to rise. All the same I made sure to be quiet as i passed through, gulping the views of the mountain flanks and patches of snow that awaited me. After a short jaunt through a talus field I encountered my first legitimate expanse of snow. Upon the first step I realized just how cold out it was as the snow had zero give to it. Not bringing traction I thanked whoever had left such a well defined bootpack as it allowed me to place feet comfortably with added stability thanks to my poles.
Cautiously and upward I went, occasionally hitting rock island in the middle of the snowy sea. Up ahead I could see the Panhandle Gap and I delighted in reaching the highpoint of both the Wonderland and my quest. Uh oh. Upon arrival I realized there were two “gaps”, both of which had tracks leading to them. Not wanting “bonus vert”, I headed to the left gap, but upon entering it and looking through I quickly realized I had chosen poorly. Back i went before reconnecting with the proper path and began the most tedious ascent the trip. Despite having a path, it was by far the worst and the prints sloped back down behind me. Here, my poles became crucial and I wished I had better soles, perhaps the kind found on the Olympus which I had yet to add to my shoe quiver. However, the stress was short lived and before the knew it I was atop the gap and out the perceived danger. I was awestruck by the beauty that was laid out before me. Miles of snow kissed summits, gorgeous conifers, and the mighty Tahoma directly over my right shoulder. My joy for the scenery quickly faded to reality as I saw my path laid out before me… through what appeared to be miles of snow. I had incorrectly assumed that after the gap, snow crossing would be minimal. Boy, was I wrong! And to add insult to injury, the sun, while now up, had yet to warm up the snow to provide sufficient purchase.
Once again I was relegated to cautiously stepping in the frozen path while using my poles to ensure i didn’t take a tour of the slopes below. It was slow going and precarious but it was made more than tolerable by the eye candy that was surrounding me on all sides. Surprisingly, I made what seemed to be good time through this portion, despite taking numerous photos, eating a Shot Block or two, and as stated, being very cautious.
Completely and utterly speechless. No words could describe what was laid out before me. In the most basic terms, it was the decent to Indian Bar. To even try and describe it in a way that would even come close to giving it the respect it deserved would be futile and insulting. After only several steps in to the descent i was struck by a tidal wave of emotion. Endorphins were being dumped into my body at rates I previously thought were achieved only through party drugs and the types of pharmaceuticals dispensed by the most liberal of psychiatrists. Only one other time had I experienced this sensation while running and it was during my Devil’s Dome Loop back in 2013 as the first ever UPWC! Up until this moment it had been the defining moment of my running life. We have lift off! For the next couple thousand vertical feet I took no pictures nor do I care to attempt and retell what I saw or how I felt. It’s too personal an experience and I’m keeping it deep down inside, reserved for only me.
I saw the Indian Bar shelter far off in the distance. A neon color within told me it was occupied and then I noticed a figure hunched over the river that flowed in front of it. After several minutes of winding my way towards it I encountered the figure. She was a pretty, young woman in her mid to late 20s. I said a brief hello and not wanting to ruin either of our peaceful early morning wilderness experiences made haste. Making liberal use of my poles I began grinding my way up the rolling ridge, heading towards my first trail deviation at the Cowlitz Divide.
Upon reaching the first of several little sub-peaks along the ridge I realized i was sweating for the first time. I pulled my one and only water bottle out of it’s chest holster and drank roughly three ounces before replunging the kicker valve and returning it to it’s taffeta home. For the first time in the morning I began to wish I was further along.
The ridge seemed to continue and each time I reached what I thought was the high point I was demoralized to realize there were more. I took delight in looking off at what I assumed were the Tatoosh and thought about how friends Gavin and Richard has crossed all of them in record time a week prior. Well done, fellas. Well f’ing done. At this point I pulled out my InReach as well as my Green Trails Map and delighted in the fact that it was only a short downhill to the Cowlitz Divide. In no time I was at the junction and quickly was overcome with a bittersweet sensation. Turning on to a new trail marked “milestone” in the day’s route, however, I was leaving the rugged beauty of the Wonderland and would be descending to the pretty, yet familiar Eastside Trail.
Despite the slow going of the previous 13 miles and my lack of downhill specific training this season, my legs found their turnover quickly and a gleefully blasted down the trail using my face to take down scores of morning spiderwebs before wisening up and placing my poles vertically in front of me to do the deed. The trail was in impeccable condition for being so little used by this point in the season. A touch overgrown in places and two or three small blowdowns if my memory serves me correctly but all in all it was the type of descent that trail runners dream about.
After roughly 45 minutes the 5+ miles of semi-tech was over and I was turning onto the well traveled access trail that lead to the Eastside Trail and the Court of the Patriarchs. Despite my goal to move as fast as possible during the route, I felt compelled to reduce my pace to a brisk walk. Although I had been up for hours and was well into my adventure, it was still early morning and many hikers were beginning their peaceful approach to the Court. While most people were more than polite with their offers of smiles and good mornings, several cast strange looks in my direction. I suppose I couldn’t blame them given my garb of short shorts, a singlet, and flat-brimmed ball cap, plus the fact that I was covered in dirt, sweat and sporting a killer tan.
Soon I was hanging a ralph and heading across the suspension bridge to the Court. Knowing the loop was short, I busted out my camera for a few snaps of the many centuries old Thujas.
With the loop behind me I skedaddled back across the bridge and knowing what lay ahead began to “hustle like Russell” to use the local parlance, but not before slamming a couple hundred more calories and taking a big swig of water.
Although it wasn’t noon yet the late morning sun was high, and the Eastside Trail is more exposed than one might imagine. At roughly 100’ of gain per miles there is no excuse to not run, however I was now sweating at a constant rate and was starting to question switching from my big red UD bottle to the standard sized opaque one. I literally had made the decision based on the fact that I didn’t want to carry the added weight. Stupid! But I knew there was no danger in my choice. I had brought my Lifestraw, purification tablets, and there was a river right next to me. My choice to suffer was voluntary. The trail continued to meander upwards and the brush, though thickening, was never so bad I had to think about where to place me feet. I made what I felt was stellar time and quickly hit the interchange for Owyhigh Lakes at Deer Park. Realizing I had been mindlessly sipping on my water on the grinder-grade, I pulled my bottle to take inventory of ounces. I cast my glimpses upon a paltry three ounces. It was just before noon and I had almost nine more miles to go. It seemed fitting that I was in close proximity to Laughing Water, because that’s what the contents of my bottle were doing.
At this point I was in survival mode, not for my health but for my success in my chosen style. I had to pace myself on the ascent or I would be a total shit show before I even got to the lakes. I switched my watch’s metric to “pace” and began a conservative 20 minute per mile hike upwards. I felt the miles tick by as I took miniscule sips of water every few minutes. Thankfully the higher I got the more of a breeze was felt coming from the alpines passes above me. Despite that, every stream I crossed taunted me to pull out my Lifestraw but I had come this far and wasn’t going to break now. Then I heard voices! Upon rounding a corning I came across a family of four who were apparently doing a "short" point to point of Owyhigh Lakes. The father asked how my ascent was. All I could muster was a crackle-voiced “dry”. The look on his face after my response concerned even me. No matter, though. The ascent was over! I was so consumed with hitting the descent that I almost didn’t bother to take a pic of the lakes. Of course, given my luck and lack of patience at this point, the pic was a bit washed out by light and wasn’t worth adding (but I will anyway).
There were now lots of people near the lakes and I was still cognizant enough to not be rude and blow by them on the narrow single track. Comporting oneself properly is one of the primary tenets of the UPWC and I wasn’t about to throw it out the window and bring shame upon my otherwise solid outing. Diving back into the tree cover was a blessing in disguise as it allowed me to get out from under the oppressive rays of the sun. I once again switched my watch’s metric, this time to elevation and began tear-assing down the trail, watching the vert vanish with every switchback. The ol’ endorphin factory kicked in again and i delighted in the extremely buffed out trail, composed of the finest carpet of duff. The Lone Peaks I was wearing had begun the day as virgins and even after 50k, the midsoles felt they had just as much life in them as when I began. I was slapping paw like there was no tomorrow. Nothing could bring me down at this point.
A bit to my dismay, the trail actually flattened out quite a bit before reaching the road and the hard decent and fast turnover quickly gave way to a slow shuffle. I was tapped, both mentally and calorically. No matter. Ahead was the road. I made the hard left onto the pavement and began the short but sketchy road trot back to Summerland TH, all the while wishing the shoulder was wider than 6”. Soon I could see my car as well as dozens of others that were now surrounding it as well as lining the road on both sides. I weaved my way along the parallel parked vehicles and back to the Summerland Trail sign, pulling out my camera and taking the finish photo as I tapped the sign.
My loop was done. I was done. But the day was still young. I did a brief series of stretches while vultures waited for my parking spot, down about twenty ounces of NUUN, and hit the road attempting to beat Friday afternoon traffic, but that’s a story for another day. Thank you, Kathy!
Total time: XX:XX:XX (Redacted). To be released upon end of this year's eligibility. If you're going for speed you don't get to use my time as a rabbit :)
Style: Self Contained (Carry everything. Source nothing)
Gear list:
Clothing,
Altra Lone Peaks
Drymax Speedgoat socks
North Face Long Haul shorts
7 Hills Team singlet
Outdoor Research Uber Tube (neck gaitor)
Altra cap
North Face arm sleeves
Bell fingerless cycling gloves
Gear,
Ultimate Direction Peter Bakwin vest (V1 old school red model)
Ultimate Direction 200z. Bottle w/Kicker valve
Black Diamond Distance Z-Poles 120 CM (My 130 carbons got pilfered at Bighorn)
Navigation,
Garmin inReach Explorer+
Samsung Galaxy S6 w/Gaia app and gpx loaded
Suunto Ambit2 w/gpx loaded (redundancy is king)
Green Trails Wonderland map
Suunto compass
Emergency,
Outdoor Research Cathode synthetic puffy jacket
Outdoor Research Convertible Gloves
S.O.L. Bivy
Lifestraw
Aquamira purification tablets
BlisterMedic kit
Assorted pills for various ailments
Clotting Sponge
Tourniquet
S.O.G. Instinct Mini knife
Hygiene,
Wilderness Wipes
Natrapel Insect Wipes
Food,
Clif Bar Nut Butter Filled (Blueberry/Almond x3) (Carmel Chocolate/Peanut x1)
Lara Bar (Blueberry x2) (Apple Pie x2) (Cashew Cookie x1)
Clif Blocks (Salted Watermelon x2) (Margarita x1) (Tropical Punch x2)
GU (Kiwi Strawberry x2)
Blue Diamond Almonds
(In the end I only consumed two of the nut butter bars, two of the Lara Bars, and two of the packs of Clif Blocks. But when going deep, you can never be over-prepared).
Hey Arya, got the liink from Mark & i really want to read this but the text is too dark in my browser!
ReplyDeletei read it on word by copy/paste & changing the font background. great run. i didnt know you had to carry everything, i thought you could filter like Mark did for Issy100...and why dont you want to be a rabbit? seems like more fun
ReplyDeleteI didn't "have to" carry everything. I chose to. It's a personal challenge. As for rabbiting, I want people to run their personal bests, not just quick enough to beat me. If they know my time there's a psychological component that may not allow them to go all out. But you follow me on Strava so you can just go and look at my time. It's not uber quick. I probably left an hour out there due to snow and ice.
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