Mt Quandary

Fabulous hike up Mt Quandary, my second fourteener of the trip. After a false start when I parked in the wrong place, I was on the way up this strenuous trail. It started in fir forest, quite steep and right from the beginning I had problems with my breathing. The start was above 12,000 feet. Soon this settled down and I felt good again. After not that much climbing the trail came out into a meadow before returning briefly into the forest. I took advantage of the trees to make a pit stop and I was later very glad of that! 

Emerging from the forest at the tree line I had my first real view of the peak. It didn't look that distant, or steep either, but I realised that appearances could be deceptive. There were mild switchbacks and then the more serious ascent began. This was steep and a lot of loose dirt and small rocks. I realised pretty soon that it was a long way to the top. I could only see one section of the trail at a time but with every new section that came into view there appeared to be a lot of climbing. 

About half way up, in terms of time but not distance (I was well over half way in distance), I came onto a saddle. This was a welcome respite after the climbing, but for the first time I could properly see what lay ahead. I also noticed some mountain goats well away from the trail. There were increasing patches of snow as I climbed on; I had to walk on the snow a bit but not much. I was passing a lot of people, which was very satisfying and also indicated good things about my altitude acclimatisation.

From the saddle onward there were nice mountain views, some lakes in one direction and distant mountains in the other. But I had to concentrate on the climbing as there was a lot of scree and sharp rocks. The summit looked very distant but I persevered.

Close to the top was a large remnant of snow which was tricky, and then almost suddenly I found myself on the summit. The view to my right into a huge bowl was just stupendous. I've never seen anything like it. There were two tiny lakes and steep mountainsides striped with snow. Beyond the bowl was tier after tier of mountains. To my left and ahead were endless mountain ranges with plenty of snow. Looking back in the direction I had come the mountains were misty and lacking snow. It had taken me two hours to the summit (3 1/2 miles) which I reckoned was pretty good going. It was cold on top.

Coming down was so much easier despite the scree and snow. Soon I was back approaching the saddle and there were a lot more mountain goats. They were close to the trail. They had sharp looking horns but didn't seem aggressive. At one point a goat was on the trail and I needed to pass it but I was a bit nervous as another hiker had just told me he read about someone being gored to death by the horns of a mountain goat. Luckily the goat just blinked at me as I passed. There were marmots too and chipmunks lower down.

I was happy to get back into the forest as the weather was warming up. However the forest didn't offer much shade. It was hot work. I was surprised how many people were just starting on the hike. For me a four hour round trip in total.

Breckenridge trail race

Today I did the Breckenridge Independence Day 10 km trail race. It was only 4 degrees when I arrived in Breck at 6.30am but the day was clear and still. This was a big race with 400 people but was conducted in a very low key fashion. I parked right by the start line and it was so cold I stayed in my car until the start.

We began with a street out and back, obviously to make up the distance, and then started out on what was to become a huge climb. We went into the forest and ran on single track with many rough patches: tree roots and small rocks made for some treacherous footing. I couldn't take in the views because I was afraid of tripping and had to look down almost all the time. We were climbing in a long line and it was hard to pass other runners, but occasionally I just had to skip past someone, risking falling off the trail in the process. 

The climbing was on a twisting route with lots of switchbacks. The sound of all our combined loud breathing was something quite amazing that I had never heard before in a race. From time to time there would be a brief downhill interlude but it never lasted long. I tried to resist walking but towards the top I just had to. At one point I was really in trouble with my breathing, and I was relieved when I was over the unpleasant sensation of not being able to get enough air into my lungs.

Suddenly the forest spat us out onto a sealed road and a drinks table. I had forgotten about drinking and the water was welcome. I was also pleased to hear someone say it was all downhill from here. It had been impossible to judge the distance we had come. I think there were some nice views of mountain peaks but I was too tired to look around.

Within a few metres we were back on a trail in the forest and a long series of switchbacks. The ground was still rough and filled with obstacles and the field had thinned out so much that I only had glimpses of runners ahead of me. I loved the downhill even though I couldn't do it fast. At least the breathing problems were gone. 

We came to a trail junction and I thought the marshal there said we had two miles to go; this didn't seem right but I could not work out what else he could have said. Then almost immediately I caught sight of the finish area through the trees and it wasn't far below. Then the next marshal said all we had to do was run around the outside of the tennis courts. We came out into the open and a few runners who had been tailing me closely all the way down shot past. The finish line was most welcome and I saw that it had taken me 1:09. 

Afterwards I had a sinful cinnamon roll and a coffee. Which I had earned. I watched the Fourth of July parade in Breck and then went back to Frisco where I was staying to watch their parade too.

More hikes, more lakes

Before leaving the Steamboat area I wanted to sample the hiking so I headed out to Three Island Lake. It was a long drive and I set out early hoping to be on the trail by 7.30. But the last part of the drive was a gravel road and slow going. Then I took a wrong turn and ended up in the wrong place. The final kilometres of the correct road were in very bad condition, and the trail head was full of cars by the time I arrived at 8.30. Luckily it was a scenic drive, along the Elk River.

The trail started with a lot of climbing, through aspen and some fir trees, and lots of wildflowers. I could hear the Elk River sometimes in the distance but it was half an hour before the trail reached the river. It was very peaceful and green, and not too closed in, with occasional views of far distant mountains.

After crossing some trickles of minor river branches the trail came alongside the river, which was gushing fiercely. In places it flowed through narrow gorges and there were many lookouts over the frothy water.

Suddenly the river went quiet; it was wider and flowed through a green meadow. The lake was just beyond this meadow. This was a big lake surrounded by forested mountainsides. It was quite hard to work out where the three islands were as distinct from the mainland but I think I discerned them. The trail seemed to start going around the lake but then ended abruptly. I scrambled down to the water's edge a couple of times and sat for a while. There was virtually nobody else there.

On the way down I passed masses of hikers. Then I chatted with a park ranger who was checking the condition of the trail; she said the trail head had the most cars she had ever seen. It was an easy hike down and I had some short stops. 

I was anxious to get the dirt road part of the drive out of the way, partly because the trail was so busy that I expected lots of cars to be coming towards me and throw up a lot of dust, and I drove the first three miles fast; when I got to the junction at the end of this part of the drive I realised I had been driving on the wrong side of the road! It was good that not a single car had passed in the opposite direction.

After that hike I drove to Glenwood Springs. I went there in 1978 when I travelled America with a Greyhound pass. I stayed the first night of my trip in Denver and stayed at the youth hostel; the manager said I should definitely call in at Glenwood Springs so I duly went there. But I only had a very short time there (I was continuing overnight to San Francisco) and I have a dim recollection of going for a very short walk and spending a long time in a restaurant waiting for the bus.

Driving towards the town the amazing Glenwood Canyon was a revelation to me. The size of the cliffs was staggering and there was barely space in the canyon for the river and I-70.  This morning I returned to the canyon for a short hike, Hanging Lake.

I intended to hike the trail and then return to my hotel for a shower before checking out so I went early. I got to the trailhead at 6.45am and there were only two parking spots remaining out of about fifty. 

The trail was only about a mile and a half but it was steep and rocky. I sped past all the other walkers, rising rapidly alongside a creek surrounded by high cliffs. It was too early for the sun to reach inside the gorge so it was a bit dark but pleasantly cool.

Eventually the trail went up some high steps and I found myself by Hanging Lake. It was just wonderful, a smallish green lake with several waterfalls entering it off the cliff face. There were lots of logs in the lake. I sat for a while then climbed further up the trail, to another huge waterfall. You could walk behind this one, and then squeeze under two rocks to get to a good viewpoint. It was a great spot.

The descent was fast and the trail was packed. I was back at the trailhead car park at 8.15 and there was a long line of cars waiting for parking spots. It was obviously the place to go!

Steamboat Springs

This morning I did the Mountain Madness half marathon at Steamboat Springs. It was a low key event and I made it my goal not to finish last. There were 60-70 runners. My legs felt good and I was able run ok even though I have only run once this week (yesterday 7 km at Grand Lake where I saw a moose very close up). Steamboat is lower altitude than I've been but it's still high at over 6500 feet.

The race was on mainly sealed roads around the outskirts of the town. We followed the river for a while then climbed a very long hill for over a mile. That was tough, but the downhill was enjoyable. It was a perfect still day. I had been worried about it getting too hot, but it was only 3 degrees at 7am and probably just over 20 degrees when I finished.

I pushed as hard as I could and I knew I was somewhere in the middle of the field. It was rolling countryside, nothing too steep but also nothing flat. I found the uphills increasingly challenging. I had expected the last few kilometres to be primarily downhill, as we retraced our outward route, but  the downhill portions seemed brief. I followed the same runners for all of the second half, and I was delighted when I saw them finally turn into the finish area. I tried hard, and succeeded finally, in chasing down a guy who had assured me before the start that he would be following my dust! 

I was a bit disappointed with my 2:07 time because that's the same as I ran last weekend when I was totally unacclimatized, but I guess this race was much harder.

The post race food was different from last week but still very American - cookies, brownies, crisps and small sandwiches (all with meat). It was nice to laze about in the sun for a while.

Last time I came to Steamboat was ten years ago when I ran their marathon in June 2007. That marathon and the one I did the following weekend at Port Angeles in Washington state were a kind of watershed for me, because a lot happened in my life shortly after that trip. I look on the time before then as my faster era and the time after as the time when I got slower. Just wanted to mention that.

Two more hikes

Two more great hikes to write about, from Grand Lake. Yesterday I hiked uphill from the lakeshore to the Shadow Mountain fire tower, almost ten miles round trip. I started soon after seven, I was the first car in the parking lot, and didn't see another hiker until I was on my way down.

Very soon after I left the start line I heard a rustle in the bushes and saw what I thought was an elk, but I later found out was a mule deer. It ignored me. The path followed the lake for a while and I noticed a pelican and lots of ducks. After entering the Rocky Mountains National Park the path started to climb, but the climbing was gradual and I motored along. The walk was almost entirely in the forest with only occasional views. It's a shame that so many of the trees in the forest are dead from bark beetle infestation.

I popped out at the fire tower quite suddenly. It wasn't quite on top of the mountain but it was the highest you could go. The fire tower is a historic building but it's closed for climbing. The views from up there were great, looking down onto the main lake, Grand Lake, but also good views over Lake Granby and Shadow Lake (both latter are manmade). I startled a wild turkey as I clambered onto a rock to sit, and then saw my first hummingbird.

As I was leaving the summit area I heard more rustling and there was another mule deer just by the trail. It wandered off. Further down I startled a lone deer and then a pair of deer. On my descent I met another hiker, who recommended the Adams Falls hike to Lone Pine Lake.

So that's what I did today, 11 miles. In many ways it was more my kind of hike than yesterday's. There was a lot of trail in the forest but also plenty of time spent on a ridge above meadows and out in the open.

The trail started with a detour to Adams Falls, where the Colorado River is forced through a narrow gorge. The Falls were impressive, as was the rushing river above the Falls. After early climbing the trail came out into the open above extensive meadows. The river snaked through the meadows surprisingly peacefully in view of the raging torrent it was about to become. On my return along here, several hours later, I saw a moose in the meadow, and further on I saw an elk, replete with antlers. The moose was obviously a big deal because all the people around me became very excited.

I had the trail to myself almost to the lake. I was alternately in steep sided gorges, following the river, passing waterfalls and deep in the forest. I kept looking up and wondering where the lake would be, and also wondering how much I was going to climb because the craggy peaks around me seemed very high. I think the lake must sit in a sort of pass between the mountains.

The temperature was perfect for hiking, no wind, and I thoroughly enjoyed moving along in silence. The lake itself was larger than I expected, and featured a small island with a pine tree (presumably the lone pine) and some saplings. It was still below the tree line. The edges of the lake were swampy and I saw one small patch of snow. There were tons of mosquitoes but they showed no interest in me, phew. 

It was a lovely peaceful spot and I sat on a rock that was actually in the lake (I jumped over to it). I was completely alone. Then I started back down. I had planned to make lots of stops but in the end I only stopped once to rest on a rock jutting out over the valley. It was getting very warm. Also the trail was really busy as I headed down. 

Lone Pine Lake

Colorado Episode 1

I've been in Colorado for four days now and I have been making good use of my time.

On my first day here I ran a lovely half marathon. And I'm afraid I have already spoiled the story! I don't often do half marathons but this one appealed to me because it was billed as America's highest downhill half marathon. My desired participation cost me more anxious moments in my planning than any other aspect of this trip. So many different things could go wrong and stop me reaching the start line. The problem was that my flight from Melbourne was supposed to touch down in Dallas, Texas on Friday afternoon and by Saturday 7.15am I had to be at the parking lot for the race organiser's bus to take me to the race start. The parking lot was in Georgetown, Colorado. It was a point to point race, Loveland ski area to Georgetown, and you had to take the bus from the finish line to the start.

I had it all planned down to a T, at least in my head. I booked a flight from Dallas to Denver, hoping my flight from Melbourne would arrive in Dallas roughly on time. I booked a rental car at Denver airport. I didn't pre-enter the race and I didn't book a hotel for the night before the race, just in case something went wrong. This was my version of hedging my bets.

It all worked out, although my flight to Dallas left two hours late. My budget flight from Dallas to Denver was dead on time. I drove from Denver 40 kms to a town half way between the airport and the race location as I had intended; I didn't want to drive too far that evening with all the flying I had just done and the 15 hour time difference, but I wanted to get out of the Denver metro area so my drive early on Saturday morning would be straightforward. I had a hotel in mind but when I got there it was full. Luckily I soon found another hotel close by. I stepped across the road to eat at Village Inn; unfortunately they were under staffed that evening and my meal took forever. I was so hungry, and also so tired.

Mount Bierstadt

Saturday morning I found the race bus pickup location in Georgetown easily, registered for the race and had a nice chat with a local runner on the bus on the way - uphill - to the race start. It was cold at the start at the Loveland ski hill but there was a prospect of a warm day. I didn't feel nervous at all, and was able to breathe up at the 12,000 ft elevation, quite a relief. The start area was a huge parking lot with an antiquated chairlift, and there were traces of snow on the surrounding mountains.

We started on a dirt trail heading into the woods. Fir trees all around. There were some waterfalls and an old bridge to cross. I struggled at the start and ran very slowly, but as fast as I could manage. I must have been surrounded by acclimatized locals as they all poured past me. Never mind, I had no time goals and it was a bit of an experiment to run at such high altitude 14 hours after arriving in Colorado. The early part was distinctly downhill. 

After a while we moved onto a sealed bike path. I had thought that the middle section of the route would be more rolling with some uphill, but even this had little real uphill. Then we moved onto the frontage road alongside I-70. As we turned onto this road there was a longish gradual uphill and I really struggled with that. I walked for a bit. I started running again and almost immediately I noticed a race bib fly out of the waist pack of a runner ahead of me; she continued on, oblivious. As I drew alongside the fallen bib (which had the timing chip attached) I picked it up to give to her when I could catch up; she wasn't much ahead of me but catching anyone was hard for me. She was rummaging in her pack and then settled back into her stride. All of a sudden she stopped and looked around in panic. I waved the bib in the air and finally managed to return it. She sped on ahead of me and from then on it became my goal to catch up to her, although she pulled well away.

We ran alongside the very noisy Clear Creek for several kilometres, through a gorge. It was lovely. I didn't feel too bad, maybe because we had descended a lot. I picked up the pace a bit. We ran through a small town, Silver Plume, and then had the real downhill of the race. It was wonderful, not too steep but definitely downhill. I passed lots of runners. I felt great. 

Then there was a flat portion as we came into Georgetown, which was hard, but nothing like as hard as the final 400 metres to the finish line: uphill! My legs just refused to play the game. It was a gargantuan effort to get them moving and I slowed to a snail's pace. This was obviously due to the effects of trying to make an uphill effort at altitude. What was maybe even worse, I had just in those last few metres passed the runner whose bib I had picked up, and I didn't want to be re-passed on the finish line. Reader, I made it. I was hot and exhausted. 

In quick succession I had a popsicle, got my race time from the computer (2:07), ate a bagel and a bratwurst and tried (but failed) to drink a beer. Then I drove to my hotel in Idaho Springs feeling very pleased with myself.

The next day, Sunday, I drove to Echo Lake to do the Chicago Lakes hike. There were already thirty or forty cars in the parking lot by 8:30am. It was a beautiful day. The hike was busy. After initial stretches in forest and then following a dirt road I came out into the open and the real stuff: an endless alpine meadow, views of mountains in every direction and a perfect blue sky. Lots of little wildflowers, some birds. This is why I came to Colorado.

I ambled along happily, not really affected by the altitude even though I was pretty high up. Eventually I came to the first of the two lakes, it was bigger than I expected and the trail didn't go especially close. At the far end was a steep hillside still covered in snow which I had to ascend. Beyond this ridge top was the second lake. It was one of those perfect alpine lakes, flanked by mountains. I sat on a rock overlooking the lake, but not for long as it was very windy.

The walk back was more tiring. I hadn't brought enough water. For the record I also hadn't brought my camera and I had forgotten to put on my trail shoes. I think I was still suffering from jet lag. For a complete contrast I went to Starbucks when I got back into town.

On Monday morning I decided to hike my first 14er (Colorado mountain over 14,000 ft), Mt Bierstadt (although I did Pikes Peak in 2011). About a million other people had the same idea. It was again a beautiful day. I could see the summit from the parking lot but it was three and a half miles away.

We were above the tree line right from the start. The first stretch involved extensive boardwalks and a river crossing on slippery stepping stones. The worst part of the climbing came in two sections, both very steep steps of switchbacks and completely draining. I tried not to stop and rest but I was at the limit of my fitness. In between was easy, level hiking. Thee was only one substantial patch of snow to cross. As we were above the tree line the views were magnificent, snow-speckled mountains, tier upon tier, and for a long time I could look back and see my starting point.

Eventually I got to the final slope, covered in boulders. The path became quite indistinct but it was easy to scramble on the rocks, despite the altitude. I remember on Pikes Peak I could hardly move forward once I got above 13,000 ft but here I felt ok. There was a full house on the summit, at least thirty people. From here we could see the top of adjacent Mt Evans (which can be reached by road) and hundreds of other peaks. There was a frozen lake just below the summit and other small lakes.

I came down slowly. It was by now very hot but many people were just setting out. On the way back to town I stopped to eat lunch by a rushing creek, just below a waterfall.

On Tuesday I thought I would do something easier but it never turns out that way. Instead of taking it easy I headed for Mt Stanley, which is only a 12er, on a path leaving from the parking area at Berthoud Pass. The weather forecast was for wind.

I had the path to myself, for a change, and as it turned out this could have been a real shame. The path started in fir forest, climbing fairly sharply; then after crossing the day's only patch of snow there was a wonderful stretch of ridge line with expansive views. At the end of this ridge were a series of steep switchbacks. This part was nicely sheltered but at the top of the switchbacks I suddenly turned into a strong wind, and the trail remained windy like this until I returned to the switchbacks. I couldn't wear my hat.

The walking was along a series of ridges; I could see the path far into the distance and I kept wondering which peak was my destination. After about 90 minutes I thought I should be getting close (it was 3 1/2 miles to Mt Stanley) but the path kept heading into the distance. I was delighted to see a woman with her dog walking towards me. I asked her if she had been to Mt Stanley and she said no, she was looking for it but the trail went downhill and then she couldn't work out which way to continue so she had turned back. This was a pity but I decided to go forward in the hope of finding my destination. As the woman had said, the path started to go steeply downhill, which didn't make sense according to what I had read about the hike, and also I couldn't see anything within a mile ahead of me that looked any higher than where I was walking, ie a mountain summit, so reluctantly I turned back. But first I did some descending, which caused me to do some unnecessary, difficult ascending when I decided to turn back.

As I was again approaching the place where I had stopped to chat I noticed that there was a rock-strewn peak jutting up to my right. On a whim I went off the trail and scrambled up the rocks. This was Mt Stanley! There was a geological survey inscription confirming this and also the feature of the summit that I had read about: a 'throne' made up of small rocks, which you can sit on to admire the views, making a sheltered spot on the windswept peak. The path didn't go right to the summit, it seems, but sidled past it.

So when I stopped to chat to the woman we had already passed the peak. It was sad that she would never know I had found it and I would never know if she had noticed it on her way back, unless I bumped into her on my way down, which was unlikely as I had wasted so much time going ahead on the trail. I was happy, anyway.

On my way down, ironically, I encountered several groups of hikers coming up. The wind was getting stronger and I rushed down. I noticed lakes I had not spotted on the way up, and a waterfall becoming a river. Because of the wind it was very pleasant to return into the forest.

Mount Macedon ultra

Yesterday I did the Mount Macedon 50 kilometre ultra for the second year in a row. This is a tough one, relentless hills with several particularly treacherous downhills, not to mention the effort required for all the steepish climbs. Last year we had near-perfect weather, unlike the cold rainy conditions that had prevailed for many years previously on race day, and when I finished the race I vowed not to do it again as the weather gods might not be so kind in future. But there I was on Sunday and the weather was not near-perfect, it was spot on perfect.

The race is set in a wonderful part of Victoria, lovely forest and fabulous views (which require climbing hills to gain the rewards). There's only one downside as far as I'm concerned: I like to stay near the start the night before the race and the only convenient place is the Mount Macedon Hotel whose rooms are cell-like and chilly even when you have the portable heater well positioned and going full bore. I survived a boring evening with the aid of podcasts and unscheduled napping.

Race morning was an almost freezing two degrees but clear and no sign of rain. I knew I would warm up quickly. This race has great aid stations and there's no need to carry anything but I noticed that every runner except for me was wearing a running backpack; some were bulging but I'm not sure with what. I had my car key and nothing else. Personally I like to use the race aid stations because they give a chance for a short break in activity, and if people cease to use the aid stations then race organisers will cease to provide aid and we will be left with unsupported races, in which case we might as well look at a map and then head out on a run of our own devising without having to pay a fee and be at the start line on time. If ultra running is an eating and drinking contest then I have to say provided is to be preferred over BYO.

So I was all primed for lots of hills. I hadn't quite remembered how many there were but let's say I was not disappointed. The most technically demanding hills are near the start and after 37 kilometres but there's lots of difficult stuff in between. Most of the run is in the forest. However, early on we were treated to a fantastic view from the Camels Hump over miles of foggy and frosty rural Victoria. I settled into a nice rhythm near the back of the field and took things easy, just enjoying being out there. It was a still morning, a few birds around but mainly silent. I had to watch my footing all the time for slippery mud, slippery leaf litter and rocks; I'm always banging my feet on rocks and almost tripping over. Luckily I only fell once, right near the end of the day, and I righted myself immediately without pain.

I was paying close attention to the route because last year I had gone wrong at least twice. I knew the mistake I had made at the 35 kilometre mark last year and I wasn't going to make that one again, but I didn't quite understand how I had managed to go wrong in the final kilometre (well, it should have been the final kilometre but it proved not to be that for me, I did an extra one or two). I got both these bits right this year but I did manage to go off trail about 48 kilometres into the run. Luckily I realised I was off course and was able to confirm this with a bushwalker who was looking for something that had a name he was calling out (dog?).

Apart from the hills there are several highlights to this run. There are a couple of small lakes or reservoirs, and a couple of short tunnels to run through. The first tunnel has big steps, which are a challenge to fatigued legs. Both are very dark.

I ran alone all day. After passing the start/finish line at 30 km I decided it was time to try and pass a few other runners. I managed to move up the field, which is always satisfying. But I always took the time to enjoy the aid station fruit cake. I got tired, of course, but it was a nice way to spend the day. After a while I was starting to say to myself, oh no not another hill, but they didn't seriously distress me. Most of the hills were short and sharp, apart from the final long climb up to the top of Macedon.

I think I finished a bit earlier than last year because there were still plenty of people around at the finish area and there was some fruit cake and chips left. I hadn't felt cold all day but as soon as I stopped moving I was cooling down. So I hopped in the car and left.