Back in the Saddle

As dawn approached on a foggy and slightly chilly, Saturday October 1st I found myself at Oskar Blues Reeb Ranch again, this time for a bike race. Yes, a bike race. Bleary eyed, coffee in hand, Ozzy Osbourne's "Over the Mountain" fittingly played in the background, as I checked into Blue Ridge Adventures, 2nd Dirt Diggler Gravel Grinder: a 47 mile back country/gravel road tour through Transylvania and Henderson counties in Western North Carolina.

Honestly, I was popping out of my skin, it had been 15 years since I had ridden in a bike race, I was nervous. My rekindled interest sparked while attending the 2016 Cyclocross Nationals in Asheville in January and subsequent tracking of Lael Wilcox's historic Tran Am Race, and Mike Hall's record setting Tour Divide this summer.
I spent considerable time modifying the same 93' Marin, Pine Mountain, mountain bike I had ridden in my last race in 2001. With considerable tinkering and the help of a class with Jenny Kallista of The Appalachian Bicycle Institute (appalachianbicycleinstitute.com) the old steed has been transformed into a "Frankenstein" version of a cyclocross bike. The additions: Bontrager stem and drop bars, an 8 speed Shimano bar end shifter, Cane Creek drop bar v-break leavers, a no-name ridged fork, and Schwalbe (26x1.35) CXPro tires. I dropped the (20T & 42T) chain rings and front derailleur for an 8 speed 32T x 11/34  drive set up.
Getting back on the bike has been exciting and humbling at the same time. Back then I spent more time in the saddle of my bike than in the drivers seat of a car. Over the last 3 months I have spent more time on my bike than the previous 15 years combined. Not with the same vigor of course but determined. I started with short rides and slowly added mileage, confidence and fanny fitness. Just before the 4th of July I tested my metal on a 130 plus mile ride east to Hickory, NC, what a wonderful trip. 18, 20, 30 mile rides over the area hills and gravel roads became routine. It was exciting to be on the bike again.
Somethings never change and the start of The Dirt Diggler was no different than my last, years ago.  As the 8 am start loomed I found myself mustered at the start with over 180 riders anxiously listening to last minute route instructions: follow this ribbon, that sign or the orange arrows painted on the road and watch for traffic. Ya, ya, ya seems almost audible as racers just want to get moving. Then there is a lul, a feeling of anticipation, as if time stops.

Suddenly, the count down from ten begins and 5,4,3,2,1 a siren whirls and we are off. In this case racers head through an old dairy barn (fun if you like the kind of stuff) which acts as a portal of sorts to break up momentum and slow progress intentionally yet only briefly. There is a flurry of adrenalin, a mashing of gears, tires loose traction across gravel as the entire hoard surges forward. Fighting for position must be a natural phenomenon, it has always amazed me. To put that much effort into a position only held briefly that early in a race is just ridiculous. Early climbing helped spread riders out as they fell in with other riders of similar abilities. The first big climb Pinnacle Mountain had riders negotiating deep ruts, rocks and sand, my bike handling skills came back to me hampered only by my lack of experience with drop bars. If there was a place to flat or wreck, this was it, I survived. While there seemed to be a climb around every corner the scenery opened up on to idyllic farms, picturesque mountain views and peaceful wooded properties. After 40+ miles of riding a short, dreadfully steep, smack in the face final climb dropped me into a fun flowing 2 mile single track descent back to the ranch and through the barn to the finish.
What a day, perfect temps, dry and not to dusty gravel roads, no flats, no wrecks, a couple thrown chains, a great race and a fantastic day to be back on the bike.

What A Hullabaloo

I woke Wednesday, the day before the Steep Canyon 50K, feeling like I had been kicked by a horse. My head congested, eyes swollen and itchy, achy all over. As I contemplated my current state, running 50K the next day seemed impossible. I made it through the day after implementing every conceivable over the counter tactic I could to thwart my condition: Dayquil, Nasal spray, Nettie pot flushing, 1/2 box of Kleenex and copious amounts of water to name a few. That night, I went directly to bed thinking nothing of what race day would bring.
Thursday, race day I woke feeling just a little better than I had Wednesday. I groggily pulled myself upright, swung my legs over the side of the bed and sat. "It was going to be a long day." Nothing was typical about this event. That was certainly by design of race directors Peter and Charles. First, the race was on a Thursday, who has a race on a Thursday? Second, start time was 1000, that, just odd. The Steep Canyon 50k was the kick off to a weekend packed with run, fun, music and beer to raise money for Oskar Blues CAN'D AID FOUNDATION who's "do-goodery" is dedicated to diggin' in and makin' a difference where you can in your community, pretty cool.

Peter and Charles at the start

The events which are the 50K and relay options unfold simultaneously on a 11ish mile loop of predominately single track trail starting at Osker Blues Reeb Ranch barn and climbing a fantastic route layed out up into Dupont Forest gaining some 16oo' before it returns to the ranch and subsequent loops.
Plenty of post race banter was focused on the inaccuracies of the distance and elevation statics, there always is. I don't really care and I suspect the race directors don't either, it is all about being out on the trail after all, right?
Step by step details of my day would certainly deter you from continuing from here so I will spare you that. As you are already aware of how I was feeling at the start, I chose to abandon all previous goals in lieu of simply participating. If I had told myself that it would be OK to quit because of how I was feeling, I probably wouldn't have started.
My approach was simple: go as far as you can and enjoy yourself. I surprised even myself the first lap finishing it in 2:24 (40 minutes faster than the day I had epiced the loop in the pre-run, see previous post). The second loop was a bit of a slog in 2:40. I was ecstatic but exhausted and everything about the day seemed to begin to weigh on me as I began my third and final loop. I was tired and I am sure every bit of sickness had been forced out of my body. The 90 degree heat of the day had reminded me of being in a sweat lodge and I was beginning to feel the affects of it. At this point, I decided I would finish and I did. However, loop 3 completion took me almost as long as the first 2 combined. In any given event, this outcome would have been unacceptable. However, I finished with two unbelievable ladies and such a HULLABALOO was made of our "Lantern Rouge" finish that my finishing time just didn't matter. (Lantern Rouge is the term used for the last place finisher in the Tour de France)

What a Fantastic event! Kudos to Peter and Charles for putting it all together. The course was beautiful. The music and over all event vibe was second to none. The venue was just idyllic, the cause admirable. What more could you ask for in a race? Thanks guys!!

Me at the finish

*I do want to give credit to event photographer Tobias Albrigtsen. Typically event photographers seem less than thrilled with their roll. Being out there all day snapping shots of typically nonplussed runners would be loathsome. Previous event pictures and those of others rarely seem to be worth the finger click that produced them. I said as much, jokingly of course, to Tobias while on the trail and he responded "I know how to take pictures, mine are different." Man he was right! Great Job Tobias!

I guess I "epiced"

Words are often redefined. Bad meaning good comes to mind as does New England's classic "Wicked." At one point, epic had seeped into our vernacular to describe something specular or very impressive even AWESOME! The term is quite common with sports casters describing an "epic shot" or a climber describing an "epic route" up a rock face in Yosemite Valley. Failure has the potential to be epic as well with "Epic Fail" being tossed around to describe an unfortunate pole volt attempt or air drop gone bad on a mountain bike.
Epic by definition pertains to a long poetic composition centered upon a hero and his achievements, so the new use of "epic" is rather easy to pallet. Unlike bad as good was or maybe still is in some circles. I don't know.
 Recently "epic" and "epic fail" morphed  further into "epiced" a reference to something even BIGGER!! Example: If you find your self out of water and food, without shelter and suddenly muster your last glimmer of strength to finish in the dark on the edge, flirting with death itself you apparently have "epiced."
Stories of climbers, runners and adventures who have "epiced" have become fodder for countless pod casts, blog posts and magazine articles. It all seems kind of careless really until it happens to you although I can not responsibly say what I experienced was a good thing either. It just makes for good story.
Last weekend, I found myself with some friends on a trail run. Typically, I don't run with others they are almost always faster and more experienced than I am and I don't want to hold anyone up or feel I have to run faster than I would like to.
Unfortunately my ego got the better of me from the start. It was a beautiful afternoon. Everyone was running and chatting, I felt good. Heck, it was only 10 miles, I have been diligent in my training. They said they would walk the up hills, I was sure I would keep up. Everyone was supportive and encouraging so I went with it.
But.... someone up front kept running when we hit the first climb. They didn't walk, nobody walked, and I didn't either. I kept up, I felt great. We ticked off that climb a short downhill and another climb, we were moving right along. The group started to spread out and an eerie feeling set in that the back of the pack was falling behind. I had never run this trail, neither had the couple people still with me. The three of us had certainly slowed down. Fortunately, the lead pack would stop at trail intersections to make sure we were hanging on and did not miss a turn. I hated they had to do that but appreciated it, for sure.
It was ridiculously hot! I sucked my hand held dry and eventually all the enthusiasm drained out of me. My head whirled, sweat soaked every stitch of clothing, my feet cramped and calves ached. I felt like I was being beat with sticks. I ran, walked and trudged forward in a daze. Fewer and fewer members of the lead pack waited at junctions to account for those bringing up the rear. I felt like I was running on a hamster wheel, time stood still. The three of us had no idea where we were, how far we had gone or how far we had to go to get back to our cars.
We were long out of water and had eaten everything we had. The support and encouragement of the others kept us moving forward. We stopped, stuck our heads into a creek to cool off, refreshed we continued with a bit more spring in our shuffle. As if on queue Charles, one of the guys who had been in the lead pack ran back to check on us and told us we had a mile, maybe a mile and a half to go. Relief poured over of us and we pushed up and over the next few climbs. When Charles said "this is it, the last down hill!" it was music to my ears. I could smell the barn! We ran that hill a bit out of control energized by the cheers and encouragement from those who had already finished. Dales Pale Ale's where thrust into our hands as we rejoined the group. The three of us gathered ourselves, sucked Dale's and water and fell into conversation about are adventure. A lot was said about how tough we were. "Epiced?" Nah!  I don't think so. I hated feeling that way. I was just glad to make it back.

"The Bald"

Hemphill Bald stands above Cataloochee Ski Area and Maggie Valley at 5400'. The "Bald' as its referred to locally sits on the south eastern boundary of The Great Smoky Mountain National Park, 800' and a couple miles or so from my front door. This corner of the park is the least visited and has become my little "private North Carolina." It offers numerous tranquil, solitary loops incorporating the Cataloochee Divide trail and Hemphill Bald trail along the southern ridge of the park and the Rough Fork, Big Fork, Caldwell Creek and Boogerman trails scattered in Cataloochee Valley below and north of the ridge. Human sightings area rare and wild life sightings are frequent: bear, wild pig, deer, elk, Turkey and grazing horses and cattle among others. The Bald, in my opinion offers some of the prettiest views in North Carolina.

View into Cataloochee Valley

The entire 800' climb is runnable. The first section heads south away from the house and up a maintained dirt road. Then turns off onto a private drive way where I am often greeted in the morning by barking Bo and Emogene as I pass through. The climb continues up to the left on an old, well traveled logging road, tunneled in spots by rhododendron as you climb through the trees. You will cross a couple creeks as you ascend along the road. Eventually you will pop out into an open grassy meadow, the tree line and fence directly across from you here mark the park boundary. Turn right and climb along a well traveled cattle path paralleling the fence toward the summit. You will be treated with stunning views off to your right towards the south and east as you climb.

Uphill

meadow climb

downhill

At the summit you will find a idyllic little perch, fenced off from the free range cattle in the area. A map here points out the surrounding summits. Views stretch off towards the east and include Moody Top and Purchase Knob among others. It's all down hill from here! Descend toward the east and follow the path as it falls away from the park and the ridge. It can get a little confusing here but if you stay to your right and on the trail you will eventually pop out onto a well maintained dirt road in a private housing development. The road makes for a quick decent, I turn off onto a little side trail back to my house before it links back up with the rode to the ski area.
 5 days up
Day 1 0915 a late start for me. Unusually warm already, 78 degrees. Busier than normal, cars up and down the road. No visit from the dogs this morning. The climb to the meadow was uneventful. Nothing stirring, not even cattle as I turned toward the summit.  Hot. A few cattle spotted among the trees in the shade on my descent, they watched as I passed but didn't move. I passed a group of folks heading up the road on my way dawn and said "good morning." They asked how far it was to the top? "Not far," I responded. Time 56:13
Day 2 0700 significantly cooler than yesterday, a beautiful morning, 62 degrees. Emogene was barking at a couple walking up the road I said "good morning" as I passed, they said nothing. Quiet this morning a light breeze blew high in the trees everything around me felt damp and a bit heavy. The meadow was thick with dew and it shown like frost in the morning sun, it splashed off my shoes as if I was crossing a creek, my feet soaked quickly. The clouds sat low in the valley below me. I stopped at the summit for a picture. Saw no one on my decent. Time 57:44

Smoky Mountains

 Day 3 0700 and 63 degrees. Still this morning, bugs hummed, bees buzzed and birds sang as if in concert and it seemed to get louder as I climbed. A dozen cattle stood still in the meadow below the summit unaffected by my presence as if enjoying the morning and the concert themselves. A doe sprang over the fence into the park a few yards ahead of me and disappeared. I was a little surprised to see a tent at the summit inside the fence. A man was standing there brushing his teeth, we exchanged pleasantries. I passed up and over the summit and descended quickly back to the house. Time 55:03
Day 4 0445 I groggily rolled out of bed at 0430. 64 degrees, a light swirling breeze made it comfortable. Dark. I spooked the horses and they thundered in a stampeded off to my left as I ran up the road. No greeting from the dogs this morning. Birds fluttered on perches here and there as I chased the orb of my head lamp up the road. The meadow was thick again with dew, stars shown beautifully from above and heat lightening danced in the east as I approached the summit. No wild life not even a flash from the eyes of grazing cattle. Fresh manure landmines where the only evidence they existed in the area. Time 57:27
Day 5 0445 woke before my alarm. It felt cooler than the 64 degrees on the thermometer. It had rained, dark clouds blocked any glimpse of the stars. Nothing seemed to move today, wisps of clouds danced across the trail in front of me as I climbed the logging road to the meadow. Pigs had left a large swath of freshly turned earth in the meadow half way to the summit. The wind was chilling. The light in the east appeared like the small strip of light along the floor of a closed door when approaching it from a dark hall way. I didn't see anything on my descent either, it was a little eerie. Time 57:13
**I hope you get a chance to experience "The Bald." Remember, please respect the wild and domestic animals in the area and the property owners who's property you will traverse to access this NC wonder.

The Test

I put myself through a little test while on vacation. My goal was to run/workout everyday we were gone. Not an easy task as I discovered, not any easier than getting out when at home. Our vacation as most vacations are was filled with wave upon wave of food, drink and activity.
First stop (2 days) Mount Pleasant, South Carolina where we visited a friend from collage and her family. By night we played catch up, went out to eat and had cocktails. By day, non stop tours of the area, Fort Sumter, the air craft carrier USS Yorktown and a fantastic Vietnam War exhibit at Point Pleasant Park. We didn't scratch the surface of what's to do in the area but would love to get back and try. I was up at the crack of dawn and ran both days. The weather was hot, very hot and an early start was prudent. I enjoyed exploring the neighborhoods, trails and flat roads of the area. Lizards skittered about in front of me as ran. On one occasion a beautiful golden eagle screeched at me as I ran along a deserted golf course as if it was cheering me on. It made me think of my Dad, and put a smile on my face. Slipping into the pool upon my return each morning was glorious.

Chasing Shadows

Stop two (3 days), we met family in St. Augustine, Florida. I was excited to visit St. Augustine, it is the oldest in America and home of the fountain of youth. Florida in July is hot and I felt like I was part of an experiment determining the effects of heat and dehydration on the human body. I ran and ran early along with dozens of others. The neighborhoods, streets and beaches of the area where a thrill to explore, classic old homes and modern wonders. Sun rise provided stunning combinations of purples, orange, pinks and grays with majestic cloud formations like those surrounding planet Bespin and Lando Calrissians, Cloud City in Star Wars. Streets umbrellaed by moss strung trees kept the direct sun at bay. I developed the habit of following the shade of the trees along the road as if my life depended on it. We toured, ate and drank as if it was possible to fit everything St. Augustine had to offer into our stay and soaked up as much sun SPF50 lotion would allow at the beach or by the pool.
Our final destination, Orlando, Florida and DISNEY! Our itinerary was chalk full of five fun packed days at Epcot, Magic Kingdom, Animal Kingdom and Hollywood Studios. Getting in my run on this leg of the journey was going to be a challenge. Walking around four different parks, rides, waiting in line, back across the park another ride, dinner then fireworks was a work out itself. And it was hot, when the doors of the hotel open the heat hits you as if you are walking into a convection oven, you start sweating as you cross the threshhold. It was amazing how consuming the heat was that early in the morning and sweat rolled off me throughout my run as if I had just steeped out of the shower. Reentry into the hotel was just as polarizing, like walking directly into the sub artic from the desert, chills. Fortunetly our hotel featured a state of the art fitness center rivialing any New York Sports Club and with the company of my daughter I avoided the oven for a few days of our visit. Disney has thought of everything however and along with maps of their parks they have running trails mapped out and my desire to explore outweighed the discomfort of the heat. 

Boardwalk Sun Rise

Back in North Carolina it has been 70 degrees, cooler over night. In fact it was a little chilly on my run this morning and wish I had put on a different shirt. Quite a change from last weeks runs on the surface of the sun, I'll take it. I passed The Test, whats next?

SCAR~DNF

• I did NOT finish my SCAR (Smokies Challenge Adventure Run) attempt in May.
• I am NOT happy about it.
• I WILL make another attempt and finish.
• I have avoided writing about it but have continued to think about it so here are some take away's.

Failures:
1) Poor Planning
Traditionally I am up and out early but for this attempt I chose to start in the evening. My theory was that it would be more convenient for my wife who had been tasked to get me to the start and from the finish of my escapade. The late start was foolish. I started at the southern boundary of the park at 1900 after a full day of activity, which included vehicle shuttling and travel. I am typically in bed at 2100 so seven hours into this adventure I was already stumbling along the AT in the dark like a zombie chasing the bobbing light of my head lamp down the trail.
2) Check Your Gear
The first section of  trail climbs 4.5 miles in 1700', up steep switchbacks to Birch Spring Gap. I felt fresh and was moving along pretty well. However, the 3rd pull from the tube of my hydration pack reveled a big problem, "it was empty". I had filled it with Tailwind before leaving the house and throwing my pack into the back of the car for the drive to the trail head. The 70oz bladder had emptied itself in the car before I had taken my first step. I had two additional 24oz water bottles with me and according to the millage card I had put together, had multiple locations to obtain water along the way. I would be ok.
3) Where is the water
I traveled nearly 20 miles before finally securing water. Which would not have been a big deal if my bladder had not bled its contents all over the back of my wife's car. I did not locate water in the couple locations referenced having it and others (Shelters) where full of sleeping hikers and I did not feel it was appropriate to be rooting around their campsites in the dark in search of water although in hindsight I probably should have. When I did finally find water I sat in the dark getting my fill for an eternity.
4) Bugs
Yay Bugs! At one point during my preparation I had considered taking bug repellent but for some reason never did more than that. I may have come to the conclusion that bugs would not be an issue in May or it simply slipped my mind as I considered other logistics. Either way I dealt with bugs and it was a nuisance until it finally cooled down enough for them disappear. Admittedly this was not a Maine black fly kind of nuisance but enough to make me wish I had repellent. In reality I was just feeling sorry for my self, thirsty and tired.

Successes:
1) Resupply vehicle
 My wife had recommended shuttling a vehicle to Newfound Gap (the only road crossing of the AT in the park) prior to my departure so I would have access to resupply or in the event I bailed I could get home without any trouble. This was the best decision of the entire trip as you all know I bailed and was able to sleep in the car for awhile before heading home with my tail between my legs and without having to interrupt the families day. *Thank you to my wife  (Shelle) who over the years has supported countles of my adventures from Colorado to Alaska and along the AT from Georga To Maine.
2) 40+ miles covered
I covered 40 miles and despite the water issue and the start time did pretty damn well really.

The SCAR

My Appalachian Trail story began 40 years ago when my Uncle David first shared stories with me about his experiences along the trail, I was probably six, maybe older. I remember listening wide eyed and in awe. Later at an AT crossing somewhere in Virginia on a summer tour of Civil War battle fields with my Dad and Uncle Taylor, I recall fondly us considering what it would be like to walk to Maine from where we stood. I wondered, "could I". In 1995 I somehow convinced my wife to through hike the 2,180+ mile length of the trail from Georgia to Maine. That trip has been over for years but recoverable memories sneak back time and again reminding me of our adventure. In the last 14 years I have lived with in a few miles of the trail allowing for frequent outings with our old friend. Re-hiking countless sections along the AT, introducing the trail to our kids.

There is  a mystique about the Appalachian Trail that few appreciate and even fewer understand. It somehow has the ability to become a part of you. It certainly holds a special place in my heart. The wilderness experience it allows, its accessibility and its history: first conceived in 1921 by Benton Mackaye. Makes the Appalachian Trail the first and a stand out, long distance trail.

Since relocating to North Carolina I have aspired to traverse the 72 mile section of the AT through the Smoky Mountain National Park in one push. This section of trail is technical, with a lot of steep rocky climbs and descents on single track along the spine of the Blue Ridge Mountains. Starting at Fontana Dam at the southern end of the park the trail climbs 2000' in the first 4 miles. Continuing north towards Davenport Gap at the northern end of the park along Interstate 40 the route has an elevation gain over 18,000', 12,800' of that in the first 40 miles. Food and gear must be carried with you and water pulled from streams along the way. The only bail-out or support possible is at mile 40 at Newfound Gap where the trail crosses US441 inside the park.

While planning my attempt to cover the 72 mile section of the AT I discovered that completion of the route is not really a unique feet. Know as the SCAR (Smokies Challenge Adventure Run) dozens of people have navigated the route over the years. The Fastest Known Time (FKT) website state the Vicki Johnson first traversed the route in the mid 80's in under 20 hours. There are also a handful of documented crossing in the mid 90's. Most recently David Worth set the supported SCAR/FKT in 20011 covering the distance in 14h 40m 22s and in 2014 Billy Simpson set the double SCAR standard in 3d 7 h 25m. Additionally, more than a dozen people have completed the route in less than 24 hours including ultra running Legend David Horton.

I am not the same caliber of runner that David Horton is, and I certainly wont be challenging David Worth's SCAR/FKT when I set off Friday May 13, 2016 from Fontana Dam on my SCAR attempt, but I've got to tell you if I can cover the distance in 24 hours or less I will be ecstatic. Honestly, I will be thrilled to make it to Davenport Gap on my own power, I will certainly give it my best shot. I will let you know how it turns out.