quandary winter ascent

Salomon S-Labfellcross review

I didn’t even know that it had snowed until I walked outside.  I’d been up for several hours but I hadn’t bothered to look outside b/c we’d been waiting and waiting for snow and it hadn’t come.  There hadn’t been any in the forecast.  So the snow had surprised me at 5 am as I walked outside.  I turned around and switched my shoes out for the Salomon S-Labfellcross.  I’d been waiting to try them out.  The super aggressive lug height on the bottom of the shoes screamed I want to run up and down European mountains in snowstorms, rainstorms and whatever horrible weather mother-nature could throw at me.  I’d been waiting and waiting for an opportunity to try the shoes.  I certainly would have preferred to try them on a long trail run w/ a lot of elevation gain and decent.  But that was not why I was up and out the door at 5 am on this cool, December morning. 

I had moved to Boulder a few months back seeking a clean life of mountain living, outdoor meditation and mountain running.  But to pay for a roof over my head at night I was working a couple of jobs, one of which was delivering organic produce to the doorsteps of the good people of Colorado.  Today was my mountain route which meant I would be driving on harrowing mountain roads around the Evergreen area of Colorado.  These roads would include four wheel drive roads, shelf roads, jeep roads and one stop that is about a fifteen mile drive up Mount Evans.  Once I get to the homes, they are usually so far back in the hills that even my all wheel drive van has a hard time negotiating the ups and downs.  I knew I’d be hiking some of the boxes up to people’s homes.  And trying to take advantage of every opportunity in front of me, I decided to just make today a training day.  

For months I’d seen the Team Salomon videos of Killian Jornet running up Mount Blanc on what seemed like a daily basis w/ the lightweight S-Labs.  The only complaint I’d heard about the S-Labs were the lack of tread on the outsole.  I was told the S-Labfellcross were like the S-Lab on steroids.  I’d tried a couple of other name brand shoes that even though it looks like they have a beefy, multi-directional tread on the bottom, it’s impossible to stay upright if you get caught in the rain.  Salomon had not let me down in that regard yet.  And the beefy $170 price tag that went along w/ these shoes gave me high expectations.  If Salomon was willing to charge that much for a shoe, it must be something they believe in. 

As I drove up into the mountains that morning the snow conditions got thicker the higher in elevation I went.  My usual hour drive was slowed down due to traffic and once I finally made it to my first stop the sun had come out and it appeared as if it was about to be a sloppy, icy, muddy day.  I would be running up and down mountain driveways of people who sometimes didn’t want to be found in the back hills of the Colorado front-range.  It wasn’t exactly my ideal day in the mountains but it wasn’t all that bad either.  If you have to have a day job, getting up to about 10,000 feet to deliver heavy boxes up steep driveways constitutes as pretty good training in my book.  I see lots of wildlife when I do this route.  A typical day would show me a dozen deer, a few turkeys or fox and sometimes up to seventy or eighty elk.  It’s a beautiful day and I certainly spent more time driving than running but I’m able to get some solid hill and sprint work in.  W/ Mount Evans and Bierstadt looming in the distance, things could always be worse. 

The shoes are very lightweight (9 ounces) and considered a minimal shoe with their 4mm heel drop.  The super protective upper of the shoe made me want to bushwhack my way around Colorado and forget the trails altogether.  My first impression of the shoe when putting it on my foot was that it felt a little narrow.  But after a few minutes, my foot accommodated nicely.  The speed lace system held my foot nicely w/ no slipping.  My only complaints about the shoe is that it is a little overbuilt for any trails w/out rocks and roots to run over or around.

My day was long.  A fourteen hour work day left me beat down and tired.  My only hope was that today (Tuesday) was actually my Friday, having two days off ahead of me.  When I got home I had no energy.  Physically and mentally exhausted.  I wanted to go for a little night run but I had nothing left.  Then again, when training for an ultra, it’s important to practice running when you have nothing left in the tank.  I smiled.  I laced the shoes back up and grabbed a headlamp.  Maybe just a quick run up Mount Sanitas and back from my apartment.  Just a quick little ten miler…

Grays and Torreys Peaks!

Hoka Mafate Review

I was as skeptical as they come.  They look like moon boots!  I work at the Boulder Running Company on weekends and I’d heard it all from anyone taking their first look at the shoe with their super sized midsole.  But I’d been selling them to nearly all the serious trail runners that come into the store.  Many of them are on their third or fourth pair, swearing by them.  

As long as I stay in the Hokas, I remain injury free / is what nearly everyone said.

I’d been fighting off injuries since I ran the Leadville 100 in August, where I saw one in eight runners wearing the Hokas.  One guy even had them tied to his backpack, where at the top of a big climb he would stop and switch out his minimal shoes for the Hokas and then bomb the downhills.  I was intrigued but hesitant.  I’d tried all the fads when it comes to running shoes.  I was in the Newtons for a year and had good luck w/ them.  I tried going more minimal and like most people, got injured.  I had decided that I would just stick to a trail shoe w/ a 10 mm heel pitch and wear it w/ an insert.  But still, I was fighting off a nasty Achilles injury that had lasted for a long time.  Almost every run was followed w/ frustration.  Sure, I finished my run but now the Achilles hurts and I probably just made it worse.  I’d tried everything, even going inward.  Maybe I’m constantly injured because of some inward battle within myself.  I’d turned to yoga and meditation to calm myself down, hoping to heal my injuries.  No luck. 

I purchased my Hoka One Mafate 2 Lows with little expectation and yet big hopes.  They carry a hefty price tag, almost the most expensive shoe the BRC sells.  That night I went for a four mile pain free run.  Could they be magic shoes?

Today, I laced them up w/ double digits on my radar (if I could make it that far without pain).  My four legged running partner and I headed for Mount Sanitas where I could give them a proper testing.  It’s not the most technical climb in the world, but it’s very rocky and there are a few sections where you are doing more boulder hopping than running.  I was unsure if all that extra foam cushioning on the bottom of the shoe would prevent me from climbing efficiently.  They were no bother.  If anything, the extra padding gave me more confidence to take a step off a jagged rock that I might otherwise avoid.  When we arrived at the summit of Mount Sanitas, I was feeling no pain and nearly converted. 

Then we started our descent.  That was when their logo, Time to Fly, began to make sense.  To say I hammered the downhill wouldn’t be right.  Hammer is the wrong word.  It felt like I floated down the mountain.  All the extra cushion absorbed every rock and root I normally feel on a fast descent.  It felt like the mountain was covered in about two inches of pristine powder snow.  Even Roxy couldn’t keep up.  I put my arms out and floated down the hill faster than I ever had before.  Even if descents were the only thing the shoe was good for, I’d be sold.  It felt like I was cheating. 

I did roll my ankle once, which is a common problem of mine.  With the extra cushion on the bottom of the shoe, there is a lot further for the ankle to roll towards the ground.  I hope this doesn’t prove fatal for me in the future.  I like to normally run with a shoe w/ a wider last like the Saucony Xodus. 

I finished my ten mile run w/ no pain.  I still stretched out, I’ll still wear compression tonight.  Are they magic shoes?  Are they too good to be true?  Well, I haven’t tattooed Hoka across my back yet but I know what I’ll be wearing out on my next trail run.  And I can’t wait. 

The Truth About Mount Massive

 

I bet Anton wakes up early.  Real early.  So I set my alarm for 3 am.  It’s a 2 hour drive to the trailhead.  That’ll put me there before the sunrise.  If I remember right, there was a really cool place to watch the sun come up at about tree line. 

I’d hiked Mount Massive twice before.  The first ascent was flawless and the second I ended up running for my life.  Yes, my life.  The clouds had moved in faster than I could move out and was stuck right in the middle of a lightning and hail storm.  Lightning was crashing right in front of my face as I ran down to timberline laughing like a crazy person.  This would be my third trip up Massive, but my first winter ascent. The snow was dubious at best but it would be cold and the paths would be tough to follow.  My dog and I were ready.  For months now, I had been following all the posts and pictures by Anton Krupicka and Joe Grant.  Pictures of them summiting mountains in all sorts of conditions.  They’d bagged every 14er around, sponsors had led them to races all over the world and now, after running up and down Green Mountain about a zillion times, it seemed they were bored and now free climbing up the flatirons with no ropes, outside of Boulder.  I had just recently moved to Boulder.  Ultrarunning and peak bagging is what takes up most of my thoughts these days.  I had seen Anton on the trails a couple of times (both times were rainy, foggy days and just like magic, from out of the fog comes a shirtless Anton). 

Hey, are you Tony?

Yeah man.

Far out!

He checked his watch and said / Have a good one!

I met Scott Jurek at Whole Foods.  The nicest guy in the world and he seemed genuinely interested in meeting me.  I’d even given Dakota Jones a smile and a nod on the Mesa Trail more than once.  This was it man.  I’m living the dream!  It was high time I channel some of that mountaineering energy that I was constantly reading about on Anton’s blog or Joe Grant’s Alpine Works site.  It was my turn to snap an Instagram photo from 14,000 feet up to remind the world that I’m here and I’m alive. 

I jumped out of bed when the alarm went off at 3 am.  In a half hour Roxypoo and I were on the road on Thanksgiving morning, ready for our first winter 14er.  I had more than enough winter clothes and today I would carry an ice ax, just in case.  The plan was no different than any other big climb, run / hike as much of the ascent as you can and then run down.  I had Mount Elbert in the back of my head too.  Bagging both in the same day.  I knew it was possible.  Anton had probably done it as a training run and set a FKT in the process.  If I’m feeling good / I told myself. 

At 5:38, Rox and I set off in the dark from the Mt. Massive trailhead.  My trusty headlamp led the way.  I ran some.  I hiked some.  It wasn’t long before my Achilles started fussing.  This has been an ongoing injury for almost a year.  So I back it off and mainly just hike.  Being in the woods with all of the thick white snow adds a density to the mountains.  It makes the woods quiet which makes the experience more reflective than ever.  I go inward.  I smile.  Moving along quickly on a trail in the woods is the best meditation I have found so far. 

It’s light out by the time I hit tree line.  I look up at the summit and wonder / How am I going to get up there? / but then I remind myself that I’ve been up there twice before.  I just have to put my head down and take one step at a time until I reach my goal.  Just like an ultra.  Just like life.  

There’s no real trail at this point.  There is a lot of snow.  I am just making my own trail right up to the top.  Rox is in her element.  She rolls around in the snow.  Eats the snow.  Goes pee in the snow.  She is in heaven.  I march up even though it’s steep and there is no air.  I couldn’t run this if I wanted to.  Anton could.  He could run right up to the top and right back down to the bottom before breakfast and then do a three hour barefoot session in the PM.  All I can do is take five steps and take a break to catch my breath.  When I reach the saddle, it’s so windy that a big gust of wind comes through and takes the hat and sunglasses right off my head and right down the mountain.  I run after them and finally retrieve them but now I have to climb back up.  Ugh.  I make my way over the scrambling, jagged rocks to reach the beautiful and rewarding summit.  I know that if I take my gloves off to open a gel or an energy bar, they will be too frozen to take a picture.  And vice versa.  I opt for the picture.  If you don’t document it, it didn’t happen, right?  I wonder if Joe Grant has this problem.  Eat or take a picture?   I use my teeth to put my gloves back on.  It’s too cold to bother pulling my phone out to see them temperature.  I made the summit.  I received my blessing.  Time to head down.  

Almost immediately on the way down my IT band starts fussing.  My IT band NEVER hurts.  What is this?  I can’t believe it.  Does this happen to Anton or Joe?  It seems they are running up and down huge mountains every day.  Don’t they ever get injured?  I can’t run a mary without something hurting.  Is it because I’m a decade older than Anton and Joe?  Is it because they’ve been running for years and I just picked it up a few years ago?  Every time I begin training for a big ultra, something happens and I end up in the gym, lifting weights and using the elliptical in preparation for the event.  Anton runs almost 200 miles the week before he runs a hundo!  Maybe I should surrender the fantasy of running a course record at Hardrock.  Maybe Anton and I won’t hug this year w/ gusto and brotherly love at the end of a hundred miler, both coming in first and second place after a hard days battle through the mountains of Europe.  In reality, that’s not why I’m out here.  I’m out here because I love being outside, especially in the mountains, moving forward.  The air is crisp and I am completely comfortable with myself.  The everyday stresses of work and bills and dirty dishes and laundry just go away when you are 35 miles in to a 50 mile mountain race.  Or when you’re headed up to your second 14er of the day.  It’s pure bliss and it’s the one thing that gives my life a feeling of value these days. 

And that’s when I notice I’m lost.  I know the general direction I should be heading but there is no trail and I am bushwhacking my way through the woods to get down off of the mountain.  Eventually, I’ll come across a trail or a road somewhere.  No luck.  Hours go by.  You are no longer on the mountain but you are in the woods and completely lost.  You yell / HELLO?  IS THERE ANYBODY OUT THERE? / until you have Pink Floyd stuck in your head for a week.  You are lost and you are screwed and it’s afternoon now and you wonder if you’ll have to call a ranger or sleep out here?  Eventually I find tire tracks.  Tire tracks have to lead to a road.  I follow them for a long time before coming to the gravel road that leads to the trailhead where the truck is parked.  I see the sign that says it’s 4 miles to the Mount Massive trailhead.  I eat a gel but it doesn’t do much.  The damage has been done.  I was out there for hours w/out putting any calories in because my hands were too cold.  I am rendered unable to run and it’s going to be a

4 mile hike back to the truck.  Why don’t I ever hear about this happening to my running hero’s?  What should have been a four or five hour trip is now almost eight hours.  The dog and I shuffle along, slowly, hungry.  Why me?  Why does this stuff always happen to me?  And then I remember…I moved to Colorado for adventure.  Here it is.  I smile.  Maybe I am living the dream life.  Maybe getting lost in the woods for an extra three hours is as good as it gets.  Maybe.  I can’t help but to shuffle alone with a huge, cheesy grin.  3.5 miles back to the truck.

Mount Massive

trampin around...