It's been 3 months since my last entry. Babies and school have gotten the best of me. As I dig myself out of from under the pile of diapers and ungraded 5th grade projects, I find that I'm in greatly in need of the kind of self reflection found only in the blogosphere, or perhaps 3 hours into a run on a 100 degree late summer day. This is where I found myself on Sunday, as I had the pleasure to join 25 fellow ultra nuts on a jaunt over 2/3 of this years inaugural SB Red Rocks 40 Miler. The brain child of one Luis Escobar, forced once again to find an alternative to our beloved 9 Trails, the Red Rocks 40 takes you from the Red Rocks camp ground/swimmin' hole to Romero Canyon and back via the Gibraltar Mine, Forbush, and Cold Spring Trails.
Starting at 7:00 AM we headed off up the fire trail turning quickly onto the first of many miles of exquisite single track. One group quickly became 2, and than 3 as folks stretched out their legs. "It's not as hot as I thought it would be!" was heard often as we caught our first view of the reservoir and then wrapped around the water towards the "straight out of Knotts Berry Farm" looking Gibraltar Mine. At mile 7 we pass a rather unnerving sight-an abandoned camper swallowed up by forest just a few feet of the trail. The conversation immediately turns to Into the Wild, and the prospects of finding a skeleton and the final words of a lost backpacker, or marijuana grower somewhere in the vehicles rusting shell. Thoughts than turned to wilderness survival, and then back to how relieved we were to still be hidden from the direct sun. More about survival later...
Climbing past the lush riparian trail section know as the grotto, past the marvelous display of marine fossils and on to the final Forbush section on the ascent to Camino Cielo, I marveled at how good I felt given my pathetic weekly mileage. My spirits were lifted further in the last few hundred meters before the summit as ran into our front runners Erik, Guillermo, Topher and Ben claiming to have left plenty of water up top as they race back to the cars 12 miles away.
Luis, Jonathan, Rocky and I topped of our packs and bottles with cool water, dropped a few S Caps and launched into our speedy return-an obvious net downhill, a 12-mile glide, surely a negative split!
Soon things got hot! Really f**king hot! Our 24 mile out and back was going to become a mini epic-maybe not Outside Magazine epic, but certainly a good story to embellish over beers for months to come. Our fairly quick pace slowed to a trot and than a shuffle and than a crawl in little over an hour. My 40 oz of H2O was down to 4 oz, and my breathing was labored. As we passed the Gibralter Mine, Luis and started talking survival again-not that we worried or anything. This is when Luis stated, rather calmly, that the "at least at the Badwater, you're prepared for the heat!" Great! As we approached the ranger's house near the reservoir, our thoughts turned to water. Nobody home! While we only had about 4 miles left to go, I was starting to feel the early affects of heat stroke. Luis and I decided that we would be remiss if we didn't disobey the NO TRESPASSING signs and lower ourselves immediately into the cool reservoir waters. The cool water reinvigorated me, and minutes later we were back on trail and dry as bone in the 100 degree heat. At least it was dry heat!
An immediate wrong turn put us face to face wild dogs-far too hot and tired to be bothered by this. Reunited with Jonathan and Rocky, we also caught up with Maria Petzle. She had also ran out water and had decided to stay put until her husband-some distance behind us-caught up to her. The final few miles were miserable. Jonathan and Luis talked photography, and admonished twice for winging about our lack of fluids.
At the final stretch of single track to the parking lot, we were greeted by Ben the Magnanimous, trudging up the trail with a backpack full of cool beverages. Done for well over the hour, he and the other early arrivals had suspected that the heat had got to some of us.
Back at the car, more cold beverages in hand, our selective memory quickly kicked in as our thoughts returned to the beautiful trail we had just experienced and family responsibilities.
I can't wait to do it again!
On a cooler note. Ken Hughes is a stud!! Sub 30 at The Bear 100. Ken you're a bear! Hope to see you on trail soon!
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