Lucky Weekend

"Luck" is not necessarily good. This long Memorial Day weekend was a roller coaster of good and bad luck that had my head spinning, wondering if we'd get back alive.

The itinerary was to hopefully do the Knowles Canyon, Mee Canyon 36.8 mile loop.

Instead of leaving Friday after work, I was repeatedly ordered to attend a birthday party until they wore me down. I opted instead to take a Tuesday vacation day and attend the party.
Paul G and I left after 10am Saturday and drove to Fruita.
On the way, a big bug splattered artfully across my windshield. Not being a Jackson Pollock fan, I hit the windshield fluid and wiper. IMMEDIATELY after covering my windshield with fluid, and before the wipers came up, I barely noticed a full-sized deer bolting in front of my car. Because of the bug, I let off the gas slightly and was moving at 71mph (in a 75mph zone). I swerved sharply, barely missing the deer and almost certain death.
Good luck/bad. The timing of the deer was PERFECTLY bad, timed to coincide with partial blindness from the fluid, but I put extra effort into seeing through the fluid for safety sake and nearly couldn't believe my eyes. Illusion? NO!!! SWERVE!!! OK, we were awake. Who needs coffee? Not me. Maybe some coffee would help calm me down!

We arrived in Glenwood Springs and ate lunch at the Brewpub. Time to pay. No wallet. That's right, its in my long jeans. I decided last-minute the weather forecast wasn't going to allow any cold or wet weather, so why bring my jeans? Guess who got to drive the rest of the way?

Sunset from Mee TH

We decided to drive to Mee trailhead first. We read a report that said we could cut a couple miles off by start/finishing at the Mee trailhead. So we tried to find the Mee trailhead. It was hard because the maps were CRAP!!! We had several different references from paper maps and my phone with intermittent weak signal. To make matters worse, there are a few land features and road features that, from ground-level, look similar. If you've never been there before, you can mix things up.

From Mee TH looking west

We parked the car where we thought we should be and were about to leave. That's when my phone got enough signal to pull some emails and it chimed. When I unlocked the screen, I saw the map app was up, and our GPS signal pinpointed us... a couple miles from where we thought we were! Lucky that email came in and I saw it before we left the car.
So we drove further west and found the actual place we were supposed to be.
At that point, we decided it might be better to stay there for the night, looking over the lay of the land from our high campsite. That could help us in a lot of minute ways in the days to come.

The trail down into Mee gets rugged and precarious. Neither of us had heard anything about any of it, so it was all completely new as it was experienced. You come off the upper rim, and immediately go through a hole in the cliff and down a rickety ladder. Then down slanted rock and then a dirt/rock gully until you reach the mid-level rim.
We hiked all over the place. Our different maps said there were two trails. One went to "The Alcove", turning south. The other went straight down the lowest drainage to the canyon below. NOT! There is no such trail. There are 30ft drops to bushwhack around, ending in a dead-end drop of over 100ft.


We spent hours going every possible alternative, being hampered by cryptobiotic soils that blocked our paths (not supposed to step on that stuff). We finally determined that the only trail is the one to the Alcove, and it ends with a shelf-to-crack rock climbing situation that was beyond our prudent skills, especially with camping backpacks.


So as we returned, we crawled through the little keyhole slot and Paul put his pack down. But his pack had a curvy shape that resists holding still. No matter how you try to lay it down it wants to roll, so it rolled right off the cliff. We were lucky that this particular cliff was short, and the pack caught on a tree before going hopelessly all the way down, rim after rim until it reached the bottom. No, bad luck sent it over the edge and good luck caught it on a tree not far away. So I jumped off the ledge, retrieved the pack and a few items of other people's garbage, then jumped and tried, tried while Paul pulled to get back up.


So this ended in failure - we returned to the car and drove to Knowles trailhead to spend the night.


The nights were perfect temps, about 50F, and the winds mostly mild.



The the west at dusk, Mercury, Venus, and Jupitor were visible in a small triangle. In order to see Jupitor aligned closely with Mercury and Venus, it had to be way beyond on the other side of the sun. The scale and perspective was interesting.





We headed out to Knowles a bit late, at about 8:30am(?). I was still stuck on stupid. I learned in Mee that it would have been more prudent to bring more water. I brought enough, but only barely, anticipating the water at the bottom, but we never reached the bottom. So for Knowles, I brought a measly extra 16oz Platypus. Dumb. I had other bottles I could have brought, even if empty on the way down. Again, I ended up not really needing them, but it was stupid.




Dumb again, we brought no cord to hoist our packs into the trees at night.




When we got to the bottom of Knowles, we saw digging. Lots of digging. Claw marks, bear footprints, bear poop with berries in it (thank god no bits of Garmins and sunglasses!). Lots of tracks. Lots of poop. Lots of digging. Narrow valley. Felt very uncomfortable.



We did spook a mama turkey in tall grass, and the little chicks shot in every direction, including one that went our way, saw us, freaked, whirled about and ran the other way. It was hilarious. Then ma-turkey started calling them back, and you could see the grass moving as each chick homed in on her call.




There was plenty of water, but some of it looked pretty gross. We had that taken care of, though. We each brought water filter pumps, each had Steripens, and Paul even had chlorine-dioxide tablets. When we found a decent looking pool, we each filtered several liters and drank until we were drowning. Then we lay under the shade of a rock and took naps.



A hummingbird was our alarm clock. Knowles is like a jungle on the upper end. We didn't think we could make it to the Colorado River as we'd hoped, so we turned around, not wanting to camp up-valley with the bears.

 


We climbed up on the rim back into dry, desert terrain. There was no water, I swear not even if you dug for it, but up there we saw the Biggest Black Bear prints I've ever seen. I wondered if it was a grizzly, but the symmetry of the prints said it was black bear. In sand, on a windy day, you could see the little creases in it's pads, so they weren't old prints. Where the hell do they get water? The only berries are juniper. Surely there's not enough water from their diet to survive?



We also saw unshod horse prints. At least four horses. One set of prints was shod, so I'm not sure if they were broken or wild.



We kept climbing out until we got to the upper rim. There, overlooking the western Colorado canyonlands, we made a bivy camp.
The sky was mostly clear and a large bat kept the mosquitoes under control.

The last day, we decided to try our hand at Rattlesnake Canyon. We ended up getting a very flat tire. We took it off, poured water on it to find the leak, plugged it with a tire repair kit, and aired it up with my bike pump. You always have a tire repair kit and bike pump, right? And snowshovel (even when it's not winter), and battery jump unit?

Eventually we made it back to Denver, more tired from stress of wondering WTF will happen next than from our leg work.

More runs and snowshoeing

Been doing far more than this blog would have you know.
I totally left out that I ran Red Hot 55k back in February.
Left out a weekend in Rocky Mtn Nat'l Park with friends.
I never got any photos of doing slot canyons in San Rafael Swell. Oh, well.
Here's a smattering of photos from many weekends.

Waterfall and water wheel in Idaho Springs

R2R2R

 

R2R2R

Waterfall on North Kaibab

 Returned to the Grand Canyon to do Rim2Rim2Rim. Wow, Colorado ultra-runners were swarming the canyon! There were over 40 of us.
I won't return for R2R2R. There's too much else to do in the Canyon, and elsewhere.

Partially caved-in tunnel near North Rim

My bedroom on BLM land, La Sals in the background

Rabbit food! Yum!

Sparkling cold snow

On shoulder of Quandary

Quandary summit

Sheep on top of cliff looking down on us

Black bear tracks (yes, they use Blistex)

Partners in crime, Maria, Alicia, Matt on Crater rim near Salida

Crater rim

Rock arch off beaten track near Salida

Salida from the east

Leadville from the mining district

Princeton, Antero, Yale, etc.

Utah Desert Vacation 2013

I postponed my vacation a day to go to a house-warming party. It was a very good time with my very best friends, many who I haven't been seeing much of in the past couple of years.

I saw another dead wolf next to I-70 not a mile east of Glendwood Springs. Wolves are definitely coming back to Colorado! This one did not have a tracking collar.

Then I drove to the San Rafael Swell to camp with friends from north-of-Denver, and their kids.
The big thing for me was slot canyoning with a couple of the gang. We wanted to go up Dang and down Ding, and I thought I knew which was which but was wrong. So we went up the easy one and down the hard one. This was tricky because down-climbing where you can't see where to put your feet is harder than climbing up. But it worked out and was a lot of fun in perfect weather.
There was blood from other people on the rocks, and we left some DNA samples as well.
I forgot my camera, as usual, so I'll have to wait for photos.

 After my friends left, Tuesday, I drove to Moab for a much-needed shower. My plans for the rest of my vacation were none better than a list of maybe's, so I had to research and set plans in concrete.

I drove to the southern end of Canyonlands N.P., found my annual pass was still valid, and checked out Newspaper Rock and went for a bike ride. The ride didn't work so well, sinking my tires in sand up to the spokes much of the time, but it was still fun and the solitude was great.



Not once did I set up my tent. Every night out was spent on the ground under the stars. I got sprinkled on one night, and the wind blew for an hour, covering me with dirt, but I just curled up inside my bag. Some nights dipped down below 30F, but mostly I slept as if in a coma.


Thursday, I ran through Salt Creek 34 miles round-trip to see the All American Man pictograph. This is a canyon that deserves a return. If I can get a friend to bring their car, we can park a car at each end and run through one-way, with a stop in a reserved permit-only campground, and see all the arches, ruins, petroglyphs, and pictographs. I'm torn whether to go early to avoid heat and mosquitoes, or later so we can swim in some of the many pools. I think early would be the better idea.

I spent the remainder of my vacation in Leadville and Buena Vista, CO.

Brain Wandered Off

I just got back from a week of vacation. I'm not ready to post on my adventures, yet. The week did allow me lots of solitude in the Utah desert to ponder uninterrupted.

My life is probably going to change dramatically in the next few years. I don't know if it will change sooner or later in those years, gradually or suddenly, nor do I know "exactly" how it's going to change. I might move, I might not. If I move, I might move within Denver, or move to Utah, or Wyoming. Or I might buy a trimaran and sail the south Pacific until an abscessed tooth, storm, or something like that kills me. (A mountain man on a boat? WTF?) Realistically, on a boat without healthcare, I'm a sitting duck for happenstance.

I don't really like my job but I love the people there, mostly, and the pay is way more than I thought I'd ever get in life. I must say, since I don't look back much, they'll miss me more than I'll miss them, if I choose to leave. I'll have friends everywhere I go. (If I solo the ocean, I'll probably make friends with dolphins and gulls.)

I have given up very very much in the past two decades, for good reasons I don't regret. But the reasons for this are dwindling. I'm finding myself looking at my own end-days wondering what is best for me. While some see my ultra-running as selfish and narcissistic, it was anything but. It was necessary to let pressure off. If I'm going to deny the hell out of what I want in life to fulfill responsibilities, which I think are more important and make this world a better place, then I need to redirect my distracting energies down a rabbit-hole. That's what ultra-running was. It allowed me to stay in one place, or to keep returning to the same place, as if I were somewhat domesticated.

What's a good life?

Having a good, successful life has little to do with being awesome. I've known too many drug addicts, alcoholics, and generally fucked-up people who are now living very awesome and happy lives. When you're fucked-up, living a great life can be precarious, and you live bliss one day at a time, always aware that you don't deserve any of it (or much of it). You're aware of the whole luck part of it (religious people ascribe to benevolent deities).
Living a good life is about managing what is right and wrong about yourself, so that the pieces come together in a positive way for yourself and others. What goes around comes around.
When your life has been for many many years a pathetic train-wreck, and then you spend each day living the dream, you're always aware that one day someone or something might wake you up and it will be back to the old not-worth-living BS. There's no taking-for-granted with this sort of existence. There's always a large amount of apprehension. It's not like "that was then and this is now". It's more like that was then and probably is supposed to be now but somehow I've accidentally cheated in the hand I've been dealt. And the fear is, in the end the house always wins.

I love freedom more now than ever. Possessions can destroy your spirituality, can trap you in mind, body, and spirit, if you let them. I still meet adults who treat their cars and other possessions like children treat their teddy bear. They feel all sorts of creepy attachments to these things.
I've found, though, that people are far more encumbering than possessions. If you treat possessions like replaceable stuff/tools, then they have no power over you. But people aren't like that. You have relationships with people. And if you care, you cannot use them like replaceable tools. Things aren't the point; people and relationships are the point. So you have to allow yourself to be encumbered by the right kinds of people. Preferably people who are better than you, or people who at least have or do something better than you do it. Maybe it'll rub off on you? Hopefully?

We are all replaceable. Sure there are special things about some that can't be found again in anyone else. That's not what I mean. I mean that there are always others out there who can and will be your friend. Anyone we know can and will leave forever and they will find others. Or they die and that's that. Except things don't always happen for a reasons, like many say. "Meaning" happens only if we create the meaning in what happens. When our friends die, or they leave, if we turn our backs forever on these events, then there becomes no meaning in it. We build and manage lives, and we build and manage meaning in what happens.

So... what will I build next? Or epic fail?
What if I didn't have to flush any of my energies down a rabbit hole?
What if I could be completely me? (Is that possible for anyone, really?)
How many different versions of a healthy "me" are possible? One? Five?

There are over seven BILLION people on this planet, yet I'm not convinced that there is anyone for me. My thirst for freedom may not allow it, anymore. Years ago, I couldn't wait to be attached and settled-down, but things didn't work, and my dreams only metastasized more and more like a prisoner staring out a little cell window for decades. Now I might be ruined for the domesticated life.
I no longer seem capable of loneliness, yet life has taught me there is no meaning where there are no people or relationships.
I might be too untamed (untameable) to have a close relationship with anyone ever again. I'm wired heterosexual, yet without loneliness, there's little inclination to go down that road anymore. But what about when the body and mind fail? A bit of co-op from a partner sure could help when I'm in my 70's. Not to mention economic benefits from splitting expenses. But it is real hard for me to imagine myself with anyone; I just can't see it.

Somehow, though, I feel the impetus from within to look for "someone", and I'm being extremely picky, after all I've been through in life. I don't trust others, but more importantly, I don't trust myself in these matters. I don't seem to be a very good judge of character and I'm apparently easily fooled. So I will not be diving off the deep end of the pool, and might change my mind before getting "wet". There is a certainty: My life will change. I will either move and live alone, or I will move and live with someone else, but I will not stay where I am. I like the diversity that Denver offers and the density of friends, but there are too many laws/restrictions in this town, and the air is very bad for my lungs.

Vi Fuel is now VFuel!

I've been a heavy user of gu's, gels, bear-bait, or whatever you call them. There are some I've hated (PowerGel), and those I love (Hammer), but not much difference in how they seemed to perform. Then along came Vi Fuel. They have changed their name to VFuel because of a name conflict with a New Zealand product.
http://vfuel.com/
With VFuel, I noticed a significant-but-not-magical difference. Face it, mostly you have to train and race smart. Hydration and electrolytes are more important than fuel. But I noticed that with VFuel, I only need 40-50% as many calories. This is especially important if your stomach turns sour. The closer I get to max calories, the more nauseous I tend to get, so being able to fuel and lower calories helps. So apparently VFuel helps my body to burn fat easier. If you run too fast, your body will only use carbs, until that depletes and then it will attach your muscles. All the while, it ignores 1000's of calories of fat you wished it would tap into. Someone told me it was the amino acids in VFuel. I don't know what it is. All I know is it allows me to perform way better than I have a right to.
You can buy it online at the website. If you like it, ask your local running stores to stock it.
(Honestly, I haven't invested in VFuel at all. Just telling it like I've experienced it.)

Last Year, This Year

Going back over my blog, it seems 2012 was quite an awesome year! Canyonlands, Grand Canyon, Escalante, Buckskin, Paria Plateau, my San Juan vacation, and Dinosaur NP.
My feet have been off-again, on-again, which is better than always "off". I've been told by others that when you destroy your feet as intensely as I've been doing, and you lay-off, then your feet actually get back to normal after a few years. That would be good news!
This year, I plan to do much the same as last year. Maybe a 50M or two, nothing more ambitious. More non-organized adventures to wild places. Some over-night hiking/running, or biking adventures, mainly in deserts, using my new ultra-light bivvy gear.
I now have two 1lbs down sleeping bags, a "down sweater", two SOL bivvy bags, and a new vest-pack.

I have been guilty of neglecting my blog, as you can tell. Laziness has been reigning, in spite of my adventures.

My weight has not changed even as I've gotten less exercise. I eat less. I no longer eat as much as a small nation. I eat only as much as regular people, or less since regular Americans over-eat. I eat the same stuff, but I eat more BBQ than I used to. Fried chicken is something I've always loved, but I don't eat that more than a few times a year. No more than I have been. Deep-fat frying is poison.

In 2013, I'm registered for the Moab Red Hot 55K.
I plan to play in the area south of the Colorado River and west of the Colorado National Monument. This area will be a minor hobby this year.
I might return to Dinosaur National Monument, but not sure. If I return, I want help figuring out some hikes from the staff. The park is not the most amazing after an initial visit unless you know where to go to. There are tons of obscure places that are off the beaten path.
I'd like to run a Bighorn race, but I'd better get off my ass and get registered, if it's not already too late. The rat-race of registering for races puts a bad taste in my mouth these days, though. It taints the whole experience.
I also have some secret Canyonlands trips I might take.
Paul Grimm and I might also do some Four-corners adventures on bikes or running. We'll see what pans-out, since we make stuff up on the spur-of-the-moment.

I plan to get a passport. Seems everyone has a passport except for me! I've only left this country once in my life, when I bought my Honda CR-X in 1986, with 60mpg, and I drove all the way from Wichita, KS, to Lake Winnipeg, Manitoba just because I could.
It would be nice to follow a sudden whim and fly to some distant place for a few days.

If we'd get some real snow, I'd like to go camping a lot more this winter. It's freezing-ass-cold trying to camp when there's no snow.

I spend many of my weekends between Buena Vista and Salida, CO. I hope to move to that area some day, and have been looking at properties. I prefer to build my own home and have a well drilled.

Wintering