One more roundup before we leave, alas. Regions are still super approximate. I updated some previous rankings as well.
Tallies: 137 in the Denver metro; 66 in the rest of the Front Range; 33 in the rest of the state. We've visited a total of 236 breweries, cideries, and meaderies in Colorado.

The Rest of the Front Range

300 Suns (Longmont): This brewery served me both a smoked cherry sour (YES) and a red ale with a distinct barf aroma, so I'm really split here. Overall, I'm not excited.
Avery (Boulder): Say what you will about their distributed lineup, but their taproom has some of the cooler small-batch brews out there. We got to attend their invitational twice; it's one of the best beer fests around.
Berthoud Brewing (Berthoud): The better of two options in this tiny town. That's not saying much.
Black Bottle (Fort Collins): Big tap list with lots of variety, usually good, sometimes uneven. I once found a lichtenhainer on tap here. I may have squealed.
Black Forest (Black Forest): Surprisingly good brewery in a tiny forest town just outside the Springs. Better-than-expected beers, sizeable lineup, nice people.
Brues Alehouse (Pueblo): I guess they're the best thing I've found in Pueblo, but that's a backhanded compliment if ever I gave one.
Buckhorn (Loveland, RIP): A brewery the size of a small living room with 4-5 beers on tap. The brewer came and chatted with us for a while and seemed like a super nice guy. They made some really cool stuff, including a no-boil, no-hop lacto stout that blew my mind. They shut down not long after we went.
Cerberus (Colorado Springs): A highlight in the Springs with very good food, too.
City Star (Berthoud): Nice tap list on their website seems to be months old. Neither of us cared for their actual lineup much.
Cogstone (Colorado Springs): Friends told us to go to try their chips 'n' salsa beer, which, yes, does taste like chips 'n' salsa. We didn't love anything here.
Colorado Mountain Brewery at the Roundhouse (Colorado Springs, multiple locations): Bland gastropub with blah beer.
DC Oakes (Fort Collins): Standard-issue brewpub with its own beer. Nothing to write home about.
Dostal Alley Casino & Brewpub (Central City): Central City is a gorgeous Old West mountain town where the soulless casinos now seem to outnumber any sort of non-sleazy business. Naturally, when we found a casino with a built-in brewpub boasting GABF medals for their dry stout, we went. Unsurprisingly, the place was sleazy and crappy, with a few phoning-it-in beers and slot machines built into the bar.
Dratz (Loveland): They were brand new when we visited, and very nice. The beer was... not good. Hope they work out their initial difficulties.
Echo Brewing (Frederick): Just three weeks after visiting, I remember nothing at all about this brewery, but my Untappd ratings of their handful of run-of-the-mill styles were low. Evidently I wasn't impressed.
Elevation (Poncha Springs): Does this still qualify as the Front Range? I flippin' adore Elevation, makers of the single best pilsner I've ever had. One of the very best middle-of-nowhere, small-town breweries I've been to.
Elizabeth Brewing (Elizabeth): Small-town brewery in conservative Douglas County. Pretty meh throughout.
Equinox (Fort Collins): Pretty good, nothing amazing.
Estes Park Brewery (Estes Park): Unremarkable.
Fieldhouse (Colorado Springs): Everything was really middlin'. Tons of dogs, which is always a bonus for me.
Finkel & Garf (Boulder): Solid, but didn't live up to the hype for me. Seems like they just play it ultra-safe.
Florence (Florence): Solid with a large tap list in a tiny town far off the beaten path.
Fossil (Colorado Springs): Solid, but unexciting. Super duper nice people.
Funkwerks (Fort Collins): Oh, hell yeah.
Gilded Goat (Fort Collins): Nice, not amazing.
Goat Patch (Colorado Springs): We finally visited when we were stuck in the Springs after a blizzard closed all roads back to Denver. Pretty good, not amazing brewery in what looks like a former high school converted to gentrified hipster mall space.
Gold Camp (Colorado Springs, apparently no website): We felt a bit guilty because we got to meet their fabulously nice brewer, but just didn't care for their beers. They seemed closer to homebrew quality at the moment.
Great Storm (Colorado Springs, RIP): Really nice with some unusual styles and creative ideas. Friendly people. Closed soon after our visit; now Atrevida Brewing.
Grimm Brothers (Loveland): Cool taproom, some really nice beers.
Grossen Bart (Longmont): I was kind of disappointed. A lot of beers seemed really off style or just unremarkable.
Gunbarrel (Boulder): Good IPAs and a nice rosemary beer.
High Hops (Windsor): Gorgeous patio with view of hop field and gardening center, with a small distillery attached. The beer isdecent, not remarkable.
Industrial Revolution (Erie): I wanted to like them, based on their shtick. I think we left all of our beers unfinished. Nope.
Intersect (Fort Collins): Unabashed hipster taproom with piles of old records. Nice folks. Beer generally good, nothing great.
Iron Bird (Colorado Springs): Nice, but largely unremarkable.
Jessup Farm Barrel House (Fort Collins): My surprise favorite find on our second CO vacation and one of the very best wild/sour breweries around.
Kettle & Spoke (Boulder): We kind of just wound up here because they're down the street from Redstone. We found a tiny taproom inside a bike shop with some of the best IPAs in recent memory, and a fantastically nice brewer who offered us an impromptu tour of the production space.
Left Hand (Longmont): They're exceptionally solid, and I wish they'd strut their stuff a little more. Their Juju series of ginger brews has a special place in my heart.
Local Relic (Colorado Springs): An experimental brewery in a gorgeous old church that prides itself on never making the same beer twice. They blew our minds the first time we went, and we were in their expensive-ass beer club for a while. Their "no repeats" philosophy unfortunately means that they frequently have several super similar batches on tap at once, a lot of their beers could really use a trial run, and they often bottle things before they're ready. After a few too many bottle bombs and undrinkable yeast shakes, we pretty much stopped going.
Locust Cider (Boulder): The standard cidery model where everything's inoffensive and the business model is "bring that friend who doesn't do gluten." I just don't care about this form of cider at this point, but they do it just as well as everyone else.
Loveland Aleworks (Loveland): We like Verboten more, but these guys are another fabulous Loveland spot.
McClellan's (Fort Collins): I don't care much for British styles, but we enjoyed the beer, food, and a great conversation with a member of the brewing family here.
Nano 108 (Colorado Springs): Tiny taproom that we really liked in 2015. We went back in 2018 and found some stellar options (their rauchbier omggggggg) and several brews with off-flavor issues. Come for the German styles here; I'm not crazy about their IPAs.
New Belgium (Fort Collins): Did the tour, visited the taproom. They seem like a good company that just embraces inoffensiveness a bit too hard. Then they sold out, and now I haven't bought anything from them in years.
The Old Mine (Erie): Good cidery in a gorgeous old brick building in a tiny town.
Open Door (Longmont): Had good lagers and saisons here. Super nice people in a chill spot.
Periodic (Leadville): At 11k+ feet, this must be the highest craft brewery we've visited. OK beer, spotty service.
Phantom Canyon (Colorado Springs): Great beer and service the first time we came, mediocre at best the second time, and only OK ever since. Food is pretty good.
Redstone (Boulder): Likely the biggest of the tiny handful of meaderies currently in CO. Their stuff trends sweeter than I like, but they have some cool varieties (sunflower mead = yes) and wonderful taproom staff.
Rocky Mountain (Colorado Springs): Long-running brewery on the outskirts of the Springs. Some sugary sours and hard lemonades that weren't up my alley, along with a very good barleywine. We chatted with the brewmaster for a while, who was a super nice guy.
Royal Gorge (Cañon City): The only brewery in town and one of few places to grab a bite. They only had one or two of their own beers, which were homebrew quality. Keep driving.
Shamrock (Pueblo): Like everything about Pueblo, this place was a total disappointment.
Soulcraft (Salida): Another pretty good small-town brewery a few miles from Elevation.
St. Vrain (Longmont): Really excellent cidery with multiple ginger ciders and great guest taps.
Timnath Beerwerks (Timnath): Extremely solid, nice people. They're also more or less down the street from the Swetsville Zoo, one of my favorite roadside attractions in the state.
Tommyknocker (Idaho Springs): Gimmicky and never better than all right. Two blocks from Westbound & Down, which is the indisputably better option.
Trinity (Colorado Springs): I've no idea how it took me several years to get to the only brett-focused brewery I've ever found. Huge, consistently good tap and bottle list, great food with good veg options, nice staff. My best brewery find in the Springs to date. They sold in 2020, and we haven't been back since.
Twisted Pine (Boulder): Solid with some interesting ideas, including a good basil beer.
Uhl (Boulder): They took over Wild Woods' space in 2020 and opened during the shutdown. They had a few promising weird options, including an unexpectedly lovely peanut butter beer.
Verboten (Loveland): Our absolute favorite in town. Creative, irreverent, and spot-on.
WeldWerks (Greeley): I fussed for so long about wanting to come here that it was inevitably kind of a letdown when we finally went. Their beers are good, make no mistake, but definitely not "drive an hour and a half to get it" good.
Westbound & Down (Idaho Springs): Another hypey place. The beer, food, and service were all good on our first visit but sorta uneven on subsequent trips.
Wild Cider (Longmont): Standard-issue, above-average cider. Lovely outdoor seating with a gorgeous mountain view.
Wild Woods (Boulder, RIP): We stumbled in during their anniversary party and loved them. Their smoked yam beer rocked my world. They sadly closed in 2019.
Wiley Roots (Greeley): ... and now I'm going to contradict the above statement re: WeldWerks directly. Wiley Roots, just around the corner from the above, is worth that drive. Their wild ales are lovely, and while their adjunct stouts can be hit and miss, they're immensely solid overall. Massive pluses include an unusually nice taproom crew, a fluffy brew cat with her own Instagram account (@midnightbrewcat), and the lovely Syntax Distillery next door.
Zwei (Fort Collins): Kicks the crap out of Denver's Prost as far as I'm concerned. Good beer, great people.

The Rest of Colorado (South, West, Central)

Current category tally: 33

Angry James (Silverthorne): Pretty much anywhere I go on the way home from the stellar Outer Range isn't really going to get my heart rate up, but we enjoyed our stop here.
Animas (Durango): Nice and solid; nothing exciting here. Food isn't great.
BierWerks (Woodland Park): Most of their taps were other people's beers, and the couple of in-house brews we managed to try ranged from so-so to not good. Oh, and they have a Nazi map on the wall for some damn reason!? Ute Pass across the street is an all-around better option.
Breckenridge (Breckenridge): Macro brewery in the "guess you have to go once" category. The beer was exceedingly mediocre, food was so-so.
BREW Pub & Kitchen (Durango): My favorite in Durango tbh. Oh, and their food is good, too.
Broken Compass (Breckenridge): Solid.
Carver (Durango): Nice people, good brunch. Their beer won't blow your mind, but it's usually solid.
Casey Brewing and Blending (Glenwood Springs): We bought tour tickets and made a weekend trip out just to go to Casey. My affection for sours is on a steep downward slope, but Casey is stellar, and the tour was delightful and totally worth doing.
Colorado Vineyards/Rocky Mountain Winery (Palisade): Including them here because they make a lot of mead, which I like, but don't love.
Eddyline (Buena Vista): Middlin', IPA-focused place in the horrifically named Byoona Vista.
Glenwood Canyon (Glenwood Springs): One of those breweries that only seem to stay in business because they have a central spot in a tourist town. Nothing interesting here.
Guanella Pass (Georgetown): Most of the beers we tried were yeasty af. No love from me.
High Alpine (Gunnison): We stopped here after a trip to Black Canyon of the Gunnison National Park, out of our minds with natural beauty. The beer was, unsurprisingly, nothing to write home about, but the food was outstanding and the staff was delightful.
Highside (Frisco): It's hard to look good when you share a ZIP code with Outer Range. Run-of-the-mill small-town brewery with food, nothing to write home about.
Mad Jack's Mountain Brewing (Bailey): We pulled off 285 here one afternoon to get out of the rain. Small tap list and tiny tap room, but pretty good beer and a killer food truck out back.
Main Street (Cortez): Another small-town brewery with not much going.
Meadery of the Rockies (Palisade): The better Palisade meadery. Again, they like their mead sweeter and gloopier than I do, but it's lovely in small quantities.
Mr. Grumpy Pants/Ourayle House (Ouray): I like the guy and his shtick a bit more than the beer, but it's definitely the better brewery in town.
Ouray Brewery (Ouray): The douchey tourist trap option in beautiful Ouray.
Outer Range (Frisco): The hype is real. ORB makes hands down the best NEIPAs I've ever had, and a stunning range of them. "Downside:" NEIPAs are basically all they do. They have a couple of Belgians, but if you're not into hazy IPAs, this place really isn't for you.
Palisade Brewing (Palisade): Solid, unexciting.
Paradox (Divide): One of the best sour-focused breweries around. They may have the most stunning mountain view of any brewery I've been in this state, and that's saying a lot.
Riff Raff (Pagosa Springs): One of those breweries where they put your pint down in front of you, you take one sip, and you're ready to head out.
Rockslide (Grand Junction): Nice space, so-so beer.
San Luis Valley (Alamosa): We stopped here on our way back from my birthday trip in 2019, which coincided with a blizzard that shut down the entire Denver metro. Their beer and food were forgettable, but the fact that I was worried sick about getting home to our pets (we didn't until 24 hours later) the whole time we were there didn't help matters.
South Park (Fairplay): We stopped here to escape a crazy cloudburst. Beer was OK, food was OK, neither was anything I really need again.
Steamworks (Durango): Ranges from really good to barely decent. Decent food.
Telluride Brewing (you guessed it - Telluride): Quite good brewery with nice people in one of the more picturesque mountain towns out there.
Three Barrel (Del Norte): Ah, Colorado. Where else do towns of 1,700 in the middle of nowhere have breweries with sahtis and sours on the menu?
Two Rascals (Montrose): Unremarkable.
Ute Pass (Woodland Park, RIP): This brewery had four different wits on tap, including two black wits.
Vino Salida (Salida): Yes, tiny Salida and Poncha Springs have two good breweries, a distillery, and a meadery. Dayum.
Wolfe (Pagosa Springs): Pleasant small-town brewery.

A burned out Ultra Runner's long and winding road to a Sub 4hr Marathon finish at Houston

Race: 2020 Chevron Houston Marathon on January 19th
Me: Male in 35-39 yr bracket
Finish: Under 4hrs, as the title suggest
Synopsis: Grab a beer, this is more of an 8 page report of my past two years transitioning from a long period spent running Trails and Ultras, to road training, and my current finish at the Houston Marathon.

I had spent Five long years chasing the glory of running Trail and Mountain Ultras, before the Mountains consumed me whole, leaving behind a barren, burnt out husk a runner that had barely ran a step for half a year before deciding to give Road Running and Marathons a try. When you’ve experienced the life altering journey of traversing a Hundred Miles through extremely tough, wild, and jaw droppingly beautiful Mountain wilderness and landscapes, hallucinated deliriously under a night sky filled with bright and brilliant stars, and managing to come through the other side of the finish line some 34+ hours later; there’s not an experience in this world you would rather chase from then on. It’s been five and a half years since I completed, more like limped across the finish line after 34 hours dragging a dead leg with a pulled groin muscle, the majestic Bryce Canyon Hundred Mile Endurance Run in Utah; the grueling experience, with some 19,000ft of climbing over 102 Miles, was revelatory for me, and I desperately wanted to continue chasing other legendary Hundred Mile footraces in the mountains like Leadville, Wasatch, Western States, and Hardrock to name a few, until they left me utterly broken.
I had no idea what I was doing, pure stubbornness and a willingness, a pathological need to suffer even, was powering me forward through one Trail Ultra after another, in 40+ races over 5 years I threw my body against the trails and somehow made it through the other side, until I ran smack dab into the immovable object known as the Wasatch Front Hundred Mile Endurance Run in Utah; I was stopped cold after trudging 61 Miles, 23 hours, and some 17,000ft of huffing it over the Wasatch Mountain ranges. I realized then, my undisciplined training had finally caught up to me, and I couldn’t progress any further beyond that point unless I did more serious training, but I was stubborn and kept wanting to chase this destructive high, until, somewhat dramatically, a year later I nearly froze to death mile 60 something into the Run Rabbit Run Hundred Mile in Steamboat Springs, Colorado. I was wandering in the middle of a bone chilling night at nearly 10,000ft altitude in the Colorado Mountains, under dressed for the occasion and not being able to run much for the past dozen miles or so to generate enough body heat. After a couple of hours of drunk walking the race, barely able to keep my eyes open, I finally sat down on the side of the trail and promptly fell asleep, the one thing you’re not supposed to do when you’re on the verge of freezing to death. Eventually a race official riding an ATV patrolling the trails came and woke me up after a few minutes; still not wanting to drop out of the race by accepting a ride back on the ATV, I walked another couple of miles to an Aid Station at Mile 70, sat by the bonfire they had going with a handful of other shivering runners for awhile, and decided I was done with racing Ultras entirely.
That experience left me majorly burned out for nearly a year, hardly running at all, though occasionally going on long thru-hikes in the National Parks, like Big Bend, the Grand Tetons, and Glacier National Park, in order to get my trail and nature fix. Once a runner, always a runner though, and the desire and need to chase after difficult running goals returned; this time I was fixated on that venerable running goal, the Sub 4 Hour Marathon. Sub 4 has always been one of those long time goals of mine, since running my first Marathon all the way back in 2010 at the Dallas White Rock Marathon, before I got sidetracked by chasing Ultras, now it seemed like a good time as any to break in these trail legs by training for Road Marathons again. More than just some arbitrary time goal though, achieving Sub 4 would prove to myself that I had the drive and commitment to train for, what I would call, an obtainable difficult goal that’s outside of my comfort zone of the trails, and maybe afterwards boost my endurance and confidence enough to race Ultras again. Recognizing that my usual undisciplined, improvised, and mostly solo training that had me falling short on difficult Ultras, I needed structure and support in my road training, and that led me to the Dallas Running Club.
I’ve ran in plenty of group runs over the years, they’re usually casual runs put up on Facebook, where you show up and would be lucky to know anyone, much less have someone there running at the exact same pace and mileage you’re needing; most of the time I’m either following some dude running way too friggin fast, or by myself in these groups, I guess I’m too much of a social introvert to really gel with a group of total strangers. What attracted me to the Dallas Running Club is that they’re a professional running organization completely run by volunteers, where you can pay an annual fee to be apart of, this gives you access to some basic perks and free entry into various races they hold in the city of Dallas, but to really be a part of the DRC and get to know runners from basically all over the Metroplex, you’d have to sign up for their training programs, from couch to 5K, to Half and Full Marathon programs, that are overseen by certified volunteer coaches and pacers. From there, based on what you’re training for, and using past racing results or time estimates, you’re sorted into a group of folks all seeking to train at similar mileage and paces in organized group runs, twice a week; I liken the process as being sorted into your respective Houses at Hogwarts.
Using a decade old Sub 2hr Half Marathon finishing time as my past result on the online signup form, I was sorted into the 4:00hr Marathon Pace group for their Fall program, while it was what I was looking to achieve at the Dallas Marathon in 2017 that I had already signed up for, in hindsight though, was a huge mistake on my part. Considering I haven’t trained much on road in years, have been on a six month long running funk of extremely low to non-existent weekly mileage, and just came back from a grueling thru-hiking trip at the Grand Tetons and Glacier National Park (covering some 60+ miles in several days) a week earlier, I was probably in for a rude awakening. By then, I was anxious and ready to go though, how hard could it be for someone who was ran 40 something Ultras by now, anyway?
As it turned out, quite hard actually, I was completely out of my depth, and every group run felt like a race, as I was working to get my dormant road legs back and my lungs, accustomed to easy thru-hiking paces for the past 6 months, use to the constant and relentless paces required of the 4:00hr Marathon Pace. The DRC Tuesday speedwork sessions set my lungs on fire, desperately grasping for air every step of the way, while their Saturday Long run hammered my legs and feet, which were used to softer dirt trails, into utter oblivion. During off days, where you’re supposed to train on your own, my legs were too destroyed to run much; I was nothing, if not incredibly stubborn though, and kept hanging onto the group runs by a thread, until I slowly started to acclimate my legs to the road. The Full Marathon program, which usually last 15 weeks, flew by quickly while I was having fun (as much fun as dying, anyway, ha) with my 4:00hr group, which by the end had become a cohesive unit of dedicated runners all encouraging each other towards their running goals; an experience that you’ll be hard pressed to find in a casual Facebook group run.
The end of every DRC Fall program coincides with the Dallas Marathon, and while I fell short that year in 2017, clocking a 4:10hr finish, considering I barely survived my first road training program, I was more than okay with those results, and was eager to return for their Spring Marathon program to further strengthen my training base. After a month long break between training seasons, I returned to the 4:00hr Marathon group feeling hopeful about training for another Sub 4hr attempt at the 2018 Oklahoma City Memorial Marathon in late April, things didn’t go as smoothly as I hoped for, though. Brutally cold weather at the start of the year left me, and many other runners in the DRC groups unmotivated to show up and train in the group runs, and then in February I got side-swiped driving on the freeway; while suffering only minor injuries from the car accident, it still hampered my training for several weeks as I fully recovered from the accident. I managed to finish the Spring program feeling somewhat hopeful of my chances at the OKC Marathon, but it was a terribly hot day, reaching into low 80s with not a cloud in the sky by the end of the race; I barely managed to squeak through under 5 hours with a 4:58hr finish, and with all things considered, was quite okay of those results, chalk it up to a base building season, I told myself.
During the Summer, the DRC holds my favorite training program of theirs, the Summer Fast Track program, where twice a week on Tuesdays and Thursdays, you alternate between blistering track workouts and punishing hill repeats, all under the oppressive 90+ degree summer evening heat in Dallas, Texas. It’s as brutal as it sounds, but there’s no better way to get acclimated quickly to the Texas Summer heat, and while you’re encouraged to go at whatever pace you’re comfortable with, if you’re the competing type, there’s always someone faster in front of you to measure up against. I had a blast that summer on the Fast Track during the weekdays, and spending the weekends running with an Early Fall group on Saturdays, and hitting the trails again on Sundays in order to train for all the long Mountain hiking trips that I would eventually burn myself out on all over again.
A week before the 2018 DRC Fall program was to start in early August, my wanderlust on the trails took over again, and after a summer spent hiking a handful of Colorado 14ers, I had my sights set on the Circumnavigation of Mt Hood in Oregon. The Epic 42 Mile and 10,000+ft of elevation gain Timberline hiking trail around Mt Hood, that would normally take Thru-Hikers 3 days to complete, I decided to do it in One Day; through 16 brutal and exhaustive hours, I managed to complete the circumnavigation, and guess what I did the very next day, I got up and hiked another 13 Miles at Mount Rainier National Park, haha. I came home from that trip completely spent and broken, a week later, the DRC Fall program began, I essentially repeated my mistake the previous year going on those long thru-hikes in the National Parks a week before the training program was to start. The Ultra runner and nature lover in me don’t regret taking on those challenging thru-hikes (it’s my moment of Zen, and a way to recharge my batteries from my monotonous and stressful job), but I probably shouldn't have done them so close to the start of the training season.
As expected that Fall season didn’t go as well as I hoped it would, it took me like a month just to feel fully recovered from my Mt Hood and Mt Rainier thru-hikes, all while desperately trying to keep up with the 4:00hr group runs. As the group got progressively a little bit faster through the training season, I never quite fully caught up, often having to frustratingly run slower and apart from the group. Wearily, I made it to the end of another Full Marathon training season and to the starting line of the 2018 Dallas Marathon; despite my best efforts, I finished in a disappointing 4:12hrs, falling short of the coveted Sub 4, yet again.
Feeling frustrated, I decided to take a step back chasing a Sub 4 when a Pacing position opened up to co-pace the DRC 4:10hr Spring Marathon group; after several seasons running with the DRC, I decided it would be a good opportunity to give back to the organization and volunteer as a Pace Leader to other runners seeking their own goals, and it would also be a great way to continue building up my own endurance base by running a bit slower than the 4:00hr paces I was struggling all last season at. There’s definitely a bit of pressure to Pace Leading a Marathon group, in having to be committed to showing up twice a week, and consistently hitting specified paces for other runners, instead of just blindly following the Pacer ahead of me, and also motivating your runners and try to keep group runs interesting so that they keep showing up run after training run; it was a process I enjoyed though, and a great way to make some close friends, but not something I would want to do all the time, considering I have goals of my own to chase after.
At the end of the Spring program, instead of a Marathon, I wanted to race a Half Marathon all out instead, so at the 2019 Irving Half Marathon in late April, and with temps approaching the low 80s by the end of the race, I ran at around 8:10 min/mile Tempo paces, desperately trying to hang with a much faster friend for most of the race, till my legs gave out in painful cramps slowing me down a mile before the finish of 1:48:15hrs, beating my previous Half Marathon PR by a whopping 8 minutes! At the end of the Irving Half, I ran so hard that my body went into full convulsive cramps for half an hour, that got so bad that I thought I was gonna have a heart attack, haha, it was all worth it though! While I said I wasn’t gonna do another Marathon at the end of the Spring program, I caught the bug again, and two weeks before the Irving Half, I had signed up for the 2019 Colfax Denver Marathon just three weeks later. I didn’t have much expectations coming into Denver, I was still a bit worn out from the Irving Half, and I didn’t know how the Mile High Altitude would affect me during the race; ended up walking away from the Denver Marathon pleasantly surprised though, in a well executed race that had me battling all the way to a 4:20hr finish, not another Sub 4, but I was happy to take it.
Running a bit slower for the spring season and working on building a larger endurance base turned out to be the right move for me, as my favorite part of the year was approaching, the DRC Summer Fast Track program was back, and it seemed like I had boundless energy to float along the track at eye-watering 6 min/paces, and fly up and down the hills with reckless abandon; all under the blissful 90+ degree Texas Summer heat. By the end of that Summer’s Fast Track program, I had managed to clock my first ever Sub 7 min/mile (in 95 degree heat!), and hungry for more speed, I forgo signing up for another 4:00Hr Marathon program, and instead, followed the friend I paced with at the Irving Half Marthon, perhaps foolishly, into the DRC 1:40Hr Half Marathon program. To get a sense of how much faster the 1:40Hr Half is from the 4:00Hr Full, it’ll be like running the equivalent paces of a 3:20Hr Marathon, with Interval workouts reaching down into 6 min/mile ranges; while I managed to hit those paces on the Fast Track, the Half program was 15 weeks worth of progressively harder workouts, that I wasn’t quite sure my legs could survive. I convinced myself I was ready though, or was I just blindly following that friend, but whatever, I wanted nothing more than to see just how fast my legs could carry me now.
While I joined the 1:40hr Half program, I wasn’t abandoning my quest for Sub 4hr Marathon, instead of targeting the Dallas Marathon in early December, I would instead sign up for the Houston Marathon in late January, giving me an extra month and a half of training, in order to fit several huge goals I had in the Fall Season, while giving me enough time to recover and train for a Marathon. First, my wanderlust on the trails returned again, after a Summer spent hiking various Mountain trails in the San Juan Mountains area of Colorado, I had my sights set on a long-time dream of mine, the 42-48 Mile (depending on the route you take) double crossing of the Big Ditch, otherwise known as the Grand Canyon R2R2R in mid September. In order to not destroy my legs completely, and ruin another chance at Sub 4, I had been spending the prior three months methodically and furiously Power-Hiking training on the trails on Sundays, utilizing Trekking poles in order to divert as much stress and impact out of the grueling thru-hike to my arms and upper body as possible to relieve my legs of the full force of the 48 Mile thru-hike, and hopefully have them recover faster after the trip. After 16+ GLORIOUS Hours running and hiking through the belly of the beast, I had finally completed the Grand Canyon R2R2R, traveling from the Bright Angel Trailhead to the North Kaibab Rim and then back to Bright Angel, with my legs hopefully feeling not too much worse for wear.
All those months of Power-hiking training with Trekking poles paid off during the Grand Canyon R2R2R, as rather miraculously, I was back up and running with my 1:40Hr Half group by the next Saturday; and now onto the next Fall goal of 2019, shoot for the moon at the DRC Half Marathon in early November, and try to go for a Sub 1:40hr finish with my other group members. Even with nearly 2 months of dedicated training for the DRC Half Marathon, I felt the residual effects of the Grand Canyon R2R2R for another couple of weeks, and couldn’t train as well as I would’ve liked leading up to the race, but no matter, I managed a still impressive 1:43:41hr finish, taking off nearly 5 minutes from my Irving Half Marathon results in the spring, while not having to go through full body convulsive cramps at the end as well!
After the DRC Half Marathon, we still had another month left of training on the program, as others continued their training for the Dallas Marathon or Half in December, and instead of racing Dallas this year, I got the opportunity to co-pace the first 15 and a half Miles of the 4:30hr finish group of the race, which was a lot of fun, the Dallas Marathon, being my hometown race, is not something I want to miss. With a satisfactory end of a successful training season, capped with a turn of holding that pacing stick at the Dallas Marathon, and buoyed by a strong showing at the DRC Half Marathon earlier, now it was business time, the hunt for Sub 4 at the Houston Marathon got my undivided attention from then on.
I’ve been wanting to do the Houston Marathon for years now, but always hesitated signing up; with many area runners still hungover from the Dallas Marathon, the usually bitter cold and stormy weather in December, depressingly short daylight hours, and the upcoming holidays meant that I would be hard pressed to find anyone to train with that month. I was a Man on a Mission though, and fortunately my boss let me take off 2 hours a day for most of December in order to still be able to train in the daylight hours. As for my training plan, I was loosely following the Hanson Marathon Method, doing back to back weekend medium-long runs of no more than 16 Miles, while focusing a lot on speedwork on the weekdays. After ending the peak of my training on a 51 Mile week, I felt as ready as I ever would be, now just have to get through the two week calm before the storm taper period before Houston.
I don’t always do taper well, that highly motivated runner for the past 15+ weeks is nowhere to be found, as I’m struggling to make it out the door for a run, and repeatedly questioning and doubting myself that if I overdid it or not with training, as my body is trying to repair itself from a long training cycle, and all the body aches and creaks become magnified. I hardly ran during the week of Houston, leading to fears of loss fitness, but my Achilles tendons were barking at me through the taper period, so it was better safe than sorry to rest them before the race. Speaking of resting, some free advice, NEVER stay at a Hostile before a big goal race, I hardly slept the night before Houston while stuck in a room with 5 other guys with creaky bunk beds and hurricane force snoring, I bolted out of the place by 3am in the morning, to desperately try and get a couple hours of decent rest in my car at a parking garage near the race; so, don’t be a cheapskate and find a decent hotel to sleep for the night.
Never try anything new before a race as the well worn saying goes, especially when it comes to shoes and nutrition (or staying in Hostiles!) , well, just before Houston I had shelled out for some pricey Spring Canaberry Energy Gels (20 gels for $50) that’s made with real food, with no added sugar or maltodextrin, and promises no GI distress for smooth and consistent energy for Marathons; since they were so pricey, I had only tested them once on a training run, the consistency is sorta like baby food, but the advertised energy gains seemed real enough to give it a go, and stuffed 9 of these huge gel packets into my two running belts. For shoes, I’m a huge Altra Running fan, and exclusively wear nothing but them, I had brought along the Altra Torin 4.0 Plush and a pair of Altra Escalante 1.5s, and was still undecided which to wear on race day; do I go with the added cushioning of the Torins that I may have to fight against later into the race as my form suffers, or do I go with the less cushioned but more responsive Altra Escalante, risking that my quads might get too hammered late in the race? I ended up choosing neither of them, and instead bought a pair of Altra Escalante 2.0s at the Race Expo the day before Houston; I’ve read that the new cushioning in that model, while stiffer and less responsive than the 1.5s, provides more protection for longer runs, making it an ideal compromise between my other two shoes, so with a thrown-in free Altra T-shirt (a kick-ass old-school running shirt, I might add), I was sold, and laced them up for Houston. Do as I say, not as I do, is another one of those well worn sayings when giving advice, ha.
It’s funny how all the worrying that goes on before a big race goes out the window the moment you cross the starting line of a Marathon, and that’s what I love most about racing, it forces you to live in the moment, highly attuned to your body, while the mind, being pumped full of highly oxygenated blood, experiences the ecstasy of “flow”; the past is forgotten, and the future is only 4 hours away, you are more present than you’ll ever be while racing. The first 8 crowded Miles of Houston, before the Half Marathon runners split off in a different course, went by in a blur, as I felt like I was being carried along with the stampede. The most vivid memory I have of that stretch is of a beautiful tree-lined neighborhood street that had branches on either side overlapping that entire street, and with the sun rising amongst a cloudless brisk morning sky, the burst of sun rays through those overhanging tree branches were so gorgeous that I wanted to whip out my phone in the middle of the race to capture what would surely have been the perfect Instagram Marathon pic.
Initially worried about the stiffness of the Altra Escalante 2.0s when I took it on an easy 1.5 Mile run the day before the race, it was no longer a concern once the race got going, these shoes were made for going fast, and with strong and rested legs, it was ridiculous how little effort I needed to cruise along at an 8:45 min/mile pace during the chaotic first 8 miles of the race. Once the Half Marathoners split off in a different course, I started to relax, and with fatigue starting to be more noticeable, I let my foot off the gas a little and tried to keep it slightly under a 9:00 min/mile pace to conserve my legs for later into the race, fearing hitting the wall hard above all else. I arrived at the Half Marathon mark with a solid 7 and a Half minute buffer for Sub 4, feeling remarkably strong, maybe those Spring Energy Canaberry gels I was taking every 25 minutes, along with Saltstick Fastchews, were working as my energy levels had been feeling smooth all race.
First real moment of panic in the race came at Mile 14, while the cold and brisk weather that day were ideal for racing, with temps in the 40s, I wasn’t sweating much at all, and desperately needed a pit stop; fortunately, there was no wait at the bank of porta-potties at Mile 14, and I only lost a minute of time. As an Ultra runner used to generous cutoffs and a unique racing culture as a whole that mainly values distance, and doesn’t place much of an emphasis on running times; being obsessed with mere minutes, down to the very seconds of your pace, when chasing time goals, is still a foreign concept to me. Banked minutes are more precious than gold in Marathons, only spend it when you absolutely have to, and the rent was fast coming due.
I was cruising along, enjoying the raucous crowd support and seeing Houston for really the first time, while maintaining close to a 9 min/mile pace as possible, until the first warnings of the dreaded Wall was approaching on Mile 18. I gradually slowed to a 9:10 pace, then 9:15, then 9:21, until BAM, I was stuck in the 9:30 ranges from Miles 21-24, and just couldn’t press my legs to run any faster. My quads and calves were tightening, fearing cramps if I tried pushing too hard, I had no choice but to start drawing on my dwindling hoard of banked minutes, in order to buy myself a chance to gut it out at the end of the race; to stave off all out panic, I started singing out loud the Rocky theme song the race had blaring from speakers during this stretch. With my reserve of Spring Energy Gels and Saltstick Fastchews gone by Mile 23, all the Gatorade and Beer along last 5 Mile stretch were a welcome electrolytic boost to ward off cramps, did I mention the fun and raucous crowd support?!
The moment of reckoning had arrived, my banked minutes were all but gone after Mile 24, it was now or never, I had spent 2 long years chasing Sub 4, and if I didn’t nab it now, I would’ve had to wait another agonizing 10 months full of doubt to get another shot at the Chicago Marathon; cramps be damned, it was time to PUSH! I brought Mile 25 down into the 9:15 range, and that had seemed to have loosened the dam on my waterlogged legs, as I hit the Mile 26 mark on my GPS watch (which was 0.3 miles over the official race distance), finally managing a pace under 9 min/mile again. When I hit the official Half Mile till the finish mark, with absolutely no seconds to spare, I gunned it, and broke out into a sprint of 8 min/miles and under. With the crowds and towering downtown buildings seemingly coalescing my vision into a funnel, hyper focused on the finish, I crossed the finish line of the 2020 Chevron Houston Marathon with an official time of 3:59:29 Hours! My God, I’ve never felt so bewilderingly elated after crossing the finish line of a race in my life, as I had been in that moment, realizing I had pulled off a Sub 4 with such razor thin margins; so, I guess this is what a Runner’s High feels like.
When I decided to finally call it quits on chasing the Mountains and Ultras all those years ago, giving up what I considered to be one of my great passions in life, I did so because I hardly considered myself to be a runner anymore, more like a glorified endurance Hiker; when did I get to point where I could hardly run several miles at a time without getting winded? Either I had to start all over to try and find my lost running legs, or be content with being mediocre at races, I chose the former and went back to road training; in my mind, I could only consider myself to be a true runner again, by breaking that 4:00hr Marathon mark. It’s funny when I think about it, the most successful Ultra Runners usually come from a long background of building speed and endurance on the road, while I did the exact opposite, spending long stretches running trails and Ultras before jumping to the road; never having to really worry much about speed and endurance, because I was mostly just focused on slogging through Ultras to finish them, until I was no longer able to do so… The Mountains have a way of exposing your weaknesses and vulnerabilities, like that.
On this long and winding road to Sub 4, I have rediscovered my confidence in running, and I like to think in myself as well, while meeting a lot of new friends along the way with the Dallas Running Club; that, more than anything, was well worth spending these last two long years chasing Sub 4. At the moment, I’m not entirely sure where I’ll take my running from here, do I keep chasing lower and lower Marathon time finishes, with some wild eyed goal towards making it into the Boston Marathon someday? Or do I eventually take my hard fought speed and endurance gains to chase after my first love with trails and Ultrarunning? One things for sure, I’ll keep building on the gains I’ve made, and make road training and the running community around it a fixture in my plans; too many great races I want to see and experience, and I’m gonna need a strong pair of legs to take me there.

CDT SOBO 2019 - Gear Review

Gear List – 8.5lbs – 9lbs
Compared to the PCT, I carried ~1.5lbs+ more gear, mostly for warmth in adverse weather for the CDT. The average temperatures for me I think were higher than the PCT, especially night-time temperatures. Despite this, I carried an extra warmth layer, because of the frequency of afternoon thunderstorms. I also opted for a full length inflatable sleeping pad the entire trail instead of a torso foam as I have in the past. Something like the Gossamer Gear Nightlight is comfortable enough, but it takes up a lot of space in my pack, does not allow me to sleep on my hip comfortably when I’m trying to sleep facing away from the moon, and is more sensitive to lumpy campsites, which I was forced to use sometimes when setting up early because of storms rolling in for the night. Additionally, I carried a fanny pack the whole way for my camera, a compass, sleep socks, and a bigger, heavier battery pack.
For gear sizing and body-type reference, I am a cis male, 6’0ft, ~158lbs, 32″inseam, typically a Medium or Large for torso garments. I have a high metabolism, extremely high on the trail.

Pack – Pa’lante V2 Gridstop 19″ Torso (Currently Unavailable)

Weight after removing the hipbelt—14.9oz
Though I prefer the DCF version when packing up because of the stiffness, I prefer the minor stretch that the gridstop allows for comfort. The gridstop is also not waterproof, which I think is an advantage when it comes to Pa’lante, because they don’t seam tape their packs. When I had the DCF version on the Vermont Long Trail, it would rain all day, and I would have to periodically remove my pack and dump out the side pockets because the didn’t drain, and wouldn’t soak through the pack and out of the bottom. At the end of the day, there would be a puddle sitting at the bottom of the pack. There is better drainage with the gridstop despite there still not being drain holes on the sides.
I think I got unlucky with my pack, as I’m pretty sure they were experimenting with new mesh for the bottom and front shoulder strap pockets at the time. Compared to mine, a friend’s were much more robust. By the time I was out of Montana, both of my shoulder strap pockets were torn up enough that I could no longer keep small items in there like my head lamp, food, or chapstick, etc. I was able to continue using my phone for a while, and occasionally I would keep my camera in one, but I eventually cut the left one off when it was barely hanging on. There was one hole in the bottom pocket by the end. The rest of the pack held on just fine, with some pretty serious packing out of the shoulder straps.
I don’t think this is the most comfortable hipbeltless pack, but it has some features that feel essential, and I will probably continue to carry it. It’s also not the lightest in it’s class, and doesn’t pack the smallest. I think if they’d make it in a slightly lighter DCF, give it some drain holes, and add some padding to the shoulder straps, it be much improved. Lastly, I used one with a hipbelt, and though it did add some support when I had to haul a lot of water and food out of town (33 mile road walk out of Rawlins with 5 days of food), but by the time I was in New Mexico, I was tired of it popping out of the pack while using it so infrequently, so I cut it off.

Katabatic Palisade and MLD Superlight Bivy DCF

Palisade 6’6″/Regular—19.25oz. MLD Bivy (Long)—5.5oz
This combination provided plenty of warmth for the entire trail. I had used the Superlight in the sil-nylon in the past, but did not like that water could bleed through when not using a groundsheet. The DCF is a bit lighter, and fully waterproof, which is better when not using a groundsheet, but I used a polycryo for most of this trail, because I wanted a place for my gear to rest out of the dirt. This also allowed me to pack my bivy dry, and my groundsheet wet, which ended up being important because of a faulty rain jacket (more on that later). The DCF packs a little bigger than the sil-nylon, but not by much. The sil also has a more “classic” UL feel, if you know what I mean.
The Palisade really fits me well, especially the toe box. I have a size 13 foot, and have what feels like a proper amount of space to move around in. The quilt is sized large for my height, but I like to tuck the access around me on cold nights. That said, if I had it my way, I’d probably have a 6’3″ or 6’4″ quilt for the sake of shaving grams. I know Nunatak does this, but I know Katabatic works. If anyone is feeling generous, I would gladly accept the Katabatic 15 degree Sawatch in RegulaLong (6’6″) for winter and shoulder season use. Thanks.

MLD Grace Solo / Z-Packs Hexamid Solo Plus / MLD Solomid XL (DCF)

So yeah, I have a closet full of DCF shelters. I used the Grace Solo until South Pass City. It was perfectly fine except for a few nights when I had the wind shift on me during storms and rain blowing in my open door. I never got wet, but I had some stressful moments. This shelter was the lightest of the three at 6.6 oz.
When I arrived at the Basin, I knew trees and good sticks would be in short supply, so I switched to my single pole Hexamid Solo Plus at 13.3oz. The bug netting was redundant with my bivy, but it’s all I had. Back in Darby, MT I had ordered a Solomid XL from MLD, but I knew I would be lucky to get it before the San Juans. The Hexamid was a little faster to set up, did not require me to sleep right next to a tree, or find a sturdy stick. It also provided full sided rain protection. One thing I don’t like is that in hard, prolonged rain, water that would drip straight down without the netting, would run down the netting, sometimes under my groundsheet, sometimes on top of it. This was especially the case during my last night in Colorado when the rain never stopped. The Solomid didn’t make it to me until Ghost Ranch, NM, around the time I no longer really needed it. I started carrying it anyway, as I wanted to practice with it for future harsh weather trips in alpine environments in the High Sierra, Wind River Range, and the Brook’s Range in Alaska.
I was aware that the Solomid took some practice, and my first three or four pitches were pretty rough to look at, but it kept the rain out. I mostly cowboy camped through NM, but by the time I was done with the trail, I had more control over how high I was pitching it, and had the 4 sides pretty taught. Two really important factors seem to be getting your stakes in well, and squaring up the 4 main corner stakes. From there, it’s about tweaking. Also, though there is some weight to be shaved by removing them, keep the linelocs on. Makes things easier, and I imagine not having them in snow would be pretty rough. I hold onto shelter stuff sacks, because they keep other gear dry when the only part of the kit in the morning that’s wet is the shelter from rain the previous night. I used a Fizan Compact 3 trekking pole, and did not need to use the pole extender. You would want to bring it if you were doing a double pole inverted set up for more stability and interior space. That said, the shelter solid with a single pole positioned vertically. Further than that, it will take some more time with the shelter before I can offer a thorough review. I will say that I have not felt more comfortable in any other shelter during a storm than I have in the Solomid XL.
If I were to hike the CDT again, I would want a Hexamid Solo Plus Tarp with a bug bivy until South Pass City. Then I’d switch to the Solomid XL and Superlight Bivy until the end, mostly for the cold wind in Colorado. It would be fine going back to the Hexamid for NM, but I’d probably just keep carrying the Solomid. I say a bug bivy instead of the Superlight with the Hexamid Tarp because I was often too warm up north, and there a couple of sections with serious mosquitos, namely Yellowstone, and some distance between them and me would have been more comfortable. I know some hikers that went through with just a bug headnet, or no headnet at all with a tarp, and may God rest their souls.

Topo Ultraventure – Size 13

Before these, I wore Hoka Challengers. The Topo’s resolved the recurring foot problems that I experienced in the Hoka’s. In the last year, Topo has switched to proper Vibram outsoles for their Terraventure and Ultraventure models, and bravo. They lasted much longer than the full foam Hoka’s. The Ultraventure is similar in cushioning to something like the Altra Timps, but with a better, longer-lasting outsole and mid-sole. They retain the foot shape toe box, but are more trim in the mid foot than Altra. More secure feel with the restriction at the toe box. They Ultraventures also have a 5mm drop, which I like. One of the cons that I experienced was on the first and second pair, there was some pre-mature separation at the arch with the midsole from the upper, but did not happen with the remainder of my pairs. Maybe Topo switched the glue? One more con was that though I found the Ortholite insole a step up from most stock insoles in terms of comfort and durability, it really soaked up water.
I will continue to use the Ultraventures, but I am experimenting now with the less-cushioned but rock-plated (Ultras have no rock plate) Terraventure 2’s. So far so good. I’d like to walk a little lower to the ground for some high routes I have planned, and would appreciate the rock plate protection. My feet have changed over the last 6,000 miles, and need different things as I go on.

Neo-air X-Lite (R)

After I adjusted to sleeping on the trail the first week, I probably averaged 7 hours of sleep the rest of the trail, often un-interrupted sleep (until it began leaking) when I managed not to drink too much water before bed. In other words, the pad was good to me. Mine weighs 11.9oz, and feels worth carrying. This pad corrected for a lot of lumpy camp sites.
Around southern Wyoming, the pad began to leak slowly. I couldn’t find a hole, and didn’t worry too much about it. In northern CO it got bad enough that I had to either find a fix a hole, or buy a new one. So I bought a new one in Dillon, CO, but ended up getting a motel room, and found a hole in my old one. I patched it, and it no longer leaked, so I returned the new one. About two weeks later, another slow leak. I dealt with it until NM, when I found a hole in the top of the pad in Grants, NM. I patched it, and it stopped the leak. A few days later, leaking again. I’m just about over it at this point, an am eye-balling my GG Nightlight again, maybe packing a short 1/8″ pad for my legs, because it really is not fun dealing with a wet backpack inside an inside-out pack liner at the end of a long day as leg insulation.

Quarter Zip 100wt Fleece (M) / Melly Microgrid (M)

I didn’t start the CDT with a fleece, but after my last day in Glacier in some slow, steady rain, I had trouble staying warm enough with just the wind shell after I got wet. I knew there were going to be daily storms in The Bob, so I found a simple quarter zip fleece in general store in Glacier. It worked great, and though I could have gotten by in the mornings with just a wind shell, adding a fleece sure made things more comfortable. It also level-up’d my pillow game when stuffed inside my Borah Jacket.
The zipper broke on my fleece about a week before Leadville, so I had a good enough excuse to buy a Melly while I was there. My medium weighs 10.2oz, marginally heavier when considering that it has a hood. If it was too hot to climb with it, I just wore a wind shell opened up instead. There’s nothing special about this garment, but it is really comfortable, and a great sleep layer if it’s cold enough out, but it hardly was. It was mostly a pillow at night, a morning hiking layer, and a rain buffer.

Lightheart Gear Sil-Poly Rain Jacket (M)

I think it’s dangerous to call this a rain jacket. Lightheart Gear claims that they don’t need to tape the seams because they’re bonded. After freezing through several storms in this thing, I’m confident in saying that this is not the case. Water came in through the storm flap up front, all of the seams, and through the pit zips. After just 10 minutes during any storm, I was soaked and getting colder every minute. It was bad enough that had I not had a tarp or groundsheet with me to wrap around me like a cape, I would have had to repeatedly stop hiking extremely early or risk hypothermia. I should have just picked up a Frogg Toggs or shelled out for something new. In New Mexico, I thought I was going to make it to an awning to stand under before this isolated storm hit me. I had put on my rain jacket already but was trying to avoid using my groundsheet as a cape so that I wouldn’t have to dry it out after. The storm got me. While this was the kind of rain that forces cars to pull off the interstate, I thought I’d have enough time to get out my “cape” in time. After maybe 10 seconds, I was completely soaked through. I stood under the awning holding my rain jacket out in the wind, and allowed my my hiking shirt to dry while the storm blew over.
One thing to note, I used all of my tenacious tape and duct tape I had to seal some of the seams. It helped, but didn’t resolve everything. You could probably seal most of the failure points yourself, but at that point, it’s going to be heavier than a lot of jackets out there.
I might experiment with the external membrane jackets going forward. Until I decide to pay for one of those, I’ll probably use an old DWR jacket with an umbrella.

Borah Gear Puffy Jacket (M)

This wasn’t a critical piece of gear, but it made for a great pillow case and morning layer while I was packing up. I’ve washed this jacket once over 6,000 miles with it, and it’s working with no zipper or down leakage issues. It’s boxy, but I’m kind of into that “DIY” look when it comes to a puffy.

Sunto M-3G

The gold standard non-mirrored compass. Solid if you have maps that are in the appropriate scale.

Nitecore NU-25 w/Backcountry Banter Headband

I charged it every three nights or so as a precaution to keep it from going out. Plenty bright, light, and compact. I carried a handheld LD02 on the PCT, and Black Diamond Spot on the Long Trail (lots of time in the dark in the fog). Out of the three, I prefer the NU 25 for average daylight and low fog conditions. I don’t think it would be enough for something like the Long Trail late in the season, but it rocked the CDT.
As of today, Joe is still on the Appalachian Trail, and is not processing orders. They’re worth picking up if you can get one though. He makes them tailored to the size of your head.

Montbell Chameece Fleece Gloves (L)

Warm enough most of the time. When they weren’t warm enough, usually between 6-7am, I just put my hands in my shorts, or in my Melly kangaroo pocket.

Showa 281 Gloves (XL)

My hands were usually the only thing dry during storms, because of these. I prefer these unlined ones under fleece liners rather than the lined 282’s. They have a long cuff, and tuck well under rain jacket sleeves for a proper seal.

Patagonia Sun Stretch L/S (M)

I used another one of these on the PCT. They’re great. It’s a nylon/poly blend with double layer fabric at the shoulders (fishing shirt style), and two chest pockets with a secure, low profile side zipper. I used just one shirt for the whole trail, and it still isn’t stained, torn, has no loose threads, and the zippers are still going. It’s not a cheap shirt at $100, but it will go the distance. Patagonia markets it as being specifically for “hot and humid conditions,” and I would agree that it excels there. I use a short sleeve version for the east coast.

Aquamira

Aquamira or bust. I know people who had Sawyers crack or freeze. I’ve used Aquamira with in repacked bottles, plus a pre-mix, on all of my long hikes. It’s important to not run out of course, and this system works best if you’re sending yourself some boxes at least every once in a while. There’s a lot of cows and some sheep on this trail, and I almost always treated my water. I kept the pre-mix in my shirt pocket for convenience, put the drops in at the source, and was on my way. Aquamira is the biggest advantage when you’re carrying out three or four liters. I would blow my top by the fourth liter if I had to squeeze the water through a membrane filter.

What I would Change

I’ve mentioned a few things, but I would probably take a rain skirt until New Mexico. Walking through cold brush sucks. If you don’t want to carry a ground sheet under your bivy, it also makes for a great gear mat. You can also retrofit some as a tarp door.
I would try a different rain jacket. I carried an umbrella for a while, but it wasn’t worth it. More trouble to keep up with than it was worth to me.
I would entertain using a foam pad again for ease of use.
I might carry a different frameless pack for more comfort, but I’d miss the bottom pocket.
___
Link to blog post with some gear pictures

Best Colorado ski spots for the money

Collegiate Peaks Loop Trip Report - August 2019

My wife and I just got back from a successful thru hike of the Collegiate Peaks Loop in Colorado. This 160 mile loop is a perfect loop for those of us with full time jobs and PTO who also want to get a taste of the longer distance “thru hike” experience. The logistics are relatively easy, resupplies are straightforward and navigation on trail is super easy. The distance makes it easily doable in two weeks for most reasonably fit hikers. My wife and I backpack year round, but are not ones to put in massive days. We averaged roughly 12.5 miles a day over 13 days and felt it was a super chill and enjoyable pace. Our shortest day was 8.5 miles and the longest was 18.6 miles. Average daily elevation gain was 3,540 ft per day.
You may be thinking that those mileages sound pretty small. I would agree; however, this trail has a lot of elevation gain (roughly 46,000 ft of gain total) and is at elevation (low of 8,900 ft and high of 12,900 ft). Add in the afternoon storms that roll in almost every day from 1pm to 4pm and it can be really challenging to put in big mile days in all but the most perfect conditions. You may be hunkered down under a rock face for an hour or under a tree four two hours in pouring rain with nowhere to go. You my have to pitch your tent at 2pm in a torrential downpour that doesn't stop until dinner time and well...I guess you are camping there tonight (this happened to us). This is not something we have had to deal with much in Oregon as our summers are dry and consistent, but quickly learned the ropes on this trip!
Instead of going day-by-day for this trip report which would be entirely too tedious, I think it would be best to just split it up between Collegiate East and Collegiate West. Generally musing about each of these sides would make a lot of sense as they are very different from each other. Then, I will have some gear reflections at the bottom.
Links:
Caltopo of the trip broken down by days and campsites: https://caltopo.com/m/8R6A
Lighterpack (Me): https://lighterpack.com/gcszph
Lighterpack (Mrs. MJP): https://lighterpack.com/bstcwl
Collegiate East
We hiked the loop in the clockwise direction. This means that out of Twin Lakes, we hiked South through the Collegiate East first. This was recommended by most because the East Side is at lower elevation, isn't as exposed and has softer climbs. I think that this was a good approach and would recommend it to others.
My wife an I live at sea level and one of the major concerns was how we would do at the high altitude. We bought Diamox just in case but elected to not take it unless we started to show signs of AMS. Instead, for weeks before the trip, we drank tons of water. So much so that I had to pee multiple times a night haha. When we got to Denver, we popped some advil and continued that twice a day until roughly day 3 on trail.
Ultimately, we did not have any major issues with the altitude. In Leadville, I had the worse symptoms of the entire trip. It was just simply a bit lightheadedness, a minor headache and restless sleep the night we were in Leadville. Walking to Melanzana from the hostel turned out to be the crux of the trip! The next morning and the rest of the trip I did not have any issues. I started to get a slight headache at 12,900 ft when we were eating lunch on the pass but as soon as we dropped down a bit it went away. Never had to touch the Diamox which was a success.
The hiking on the East Side was really good. The trail was in incredible condition and signed very well. The first 3.5 days south of Twin Lakes were gorgeous! Beautiful forests with Aspens, Doug Firs, Lodgepoles and Ponderosas. The water was flowing really well in all the creeks and we never needed to carry more than 1.7L each (with the exception of two dry camps during the trip). The high alpine tundra was especially beautiful. Up around Mt. Harvard and Mt. Columbia were incredibly enjoyable. We are so used to the PNW’s volcanic rock and mountains. The geology and flora of the non-volcanic Collegiate Wilderness was very cool.
There were a few notably steep climbs on this side. Climbs where we couldn't help but laugh at the grade. A few of them were the climb up to the saddle below Mt. Yale and the climb up out of Foose’s Creek to the CDT. The views were always worth the climb though!
We did not expect the bugs to be that bad (based upon trip reports of others) but they turned out to be very bad. We had many nights where we would just set up the tent and eat dinner inside to escape them. The locals were saying that this was because of the huge snow year and late snow they received. This made the bug hatch super big and later in the season than usual. They honked but they were not the worst we have experienced (like Oregon PCT in mid July…..).
We had our first resupply in Mt. Princeton. We had mailed a box to them and picked it up at the main office. They were nice, but kind of came off as...inconvenienced by our presence. It was weird. Definitely not a “hiker trash” trail stop in the normal sense. But again, they were nice enough and we didn't have any issues. The market that is there has basic gas station food plus some extras that you might find at a resort convenience store. They did have gas canisters but they were a brand I had never heard of and a small 4oz can was $9.50!!! We were happy we just sucked it up and carried our canisters the whole way.
The later portions of the East Side were not as enjoyable. Basically from Maxwell Creek outside of Mt. Princeton down to Fooses Creek was super boring, low elevation and just kind of “meh”. It was still good hiking, don’t get me wrong. But, it was not as mountainous, lower elevation and therefore hotter temps, lacked views, had a ton of mountain bikers and involved some notable road walking.
Once we made out way up Fooses Creek and onto the CDT (making the switch over to the West Side, that sentiment disappeared entirely.
Collegiate West
Collegiate West. Ah, you beautiful bastard. As soon as we got up to the CDT and started heading North, the views and terrain were astonishing. THIS, is what we came here for. Incredibly wide vistas, deep and gorgeous valleys, craggy peaks and lush alpine tundra.
We resupplied at Monarch Pass for the 5.5 day stretch to finish the loop. If you stop here, get the ice cream. The “hiker single scoop” was the size of a softball and delicious. This resupply was way more hiker friendly and felt welcoming. There is a corner with a hiker box, log, chargers and an area to repack your resupply. It was super cool. You could probably buy a resupply here if you had to but I would not recommend it. It would be super expensive and mostly snacks. They did have canisters too but they were $8.50 for the 4oz cans! We met some cool thru hikers and a few not cool thru hikers lol. A few were just super grouchy and said the West Side trail was a “mother fucker” and “broke his knees” and “designed by a crew at 4pm on a Friday”. Notably, that guy had a 80L pack and knee braces but whatever. Everyone else was pretty chill and happy to be out there.
The hiking was world class from here on out. Pass after pass, valley after valley, I just could not stop dropping my jaw. The West Side is definitely more exposed and challenging. But, with some willingness to wake up early, watch the weather and be smart, it isn't too bad.
We did have one instance were we got hit by the weather. Coming out of Monarch Pass, you hike this exposed ridgeline on the CDT. The weather was being a bit volatile, but there were gaps in the weather and there wasn't any rain. We decided to keep hiking. Well...just under Bald Mountain, what looked like a gap in the weather closed almost instantly. It started pouring rain and hailing on us. Mind you, there are zero trees up there and the trail rides the highest points of the ridges. We were exposed. We dropped over the East side of the ridge just a bit to hide under some rocks. We could get our packs out of the rain but we were still getting soaked. So far, it sucked but was still safe and we figured it would blow over. Wrong. A few minutes later a massive thunder clap happened right on top of us. My wife started to feel hair stand up on her neck and we knew that we need to get down immediately.
We decided to drop down off the cliff of Bald Mountain. It was a solid class 3 / class 4 downclimbing for awhile. We made it down off the sheer face of the cliff and down into the high alpine tundra and boulder field of the valley below. Our planned campsite that night was Boss Lake Reservoir. Looking at the map, I could see that we were two valleys away but that there was an old 4x4 road that connected Highway 50 to Boss Lake. We decided that we would make our way down the valley, over the next ridge into the next valley near Green Lake, drop down another thousand feet to Highway 50, road walk to the 4x4 road and then hike back up the 4x4 road to camp. The plan and cross country travel worked perfectly. We ended up finding an unmarked trail from Green Lake down to the Highway too which helped a ton. We made it to our camp that night just before another thunderstorm rolled through. Safe, dry, sore but mostly happy!
After that day, the weather was in our favor the rest of the trip. Every day would be clear blue skies in the morning and then some non-threatening puffy white clouds in the afternoon. The hiking was smooth sailing for the most part. We started waking up earlier on the Collegiate West. This was so that we could get over 1,2 or even 5 passes in the day before the afternoon storms could roll in. They never really did besides some light rain, but it was the safest approach. After the Bald Mountain debacle, we were a bit nervous to get trapped on a pass again!
We were going the opposite direction of most every CT, CDT and other Loopers we saw out there. During the entire trip, not a single person passed us going the same direction besides some day hikers and runners. Because of this, we got to chat with a lot of awesome thru hikers! One thing we noticed was a lot of fear mongering and trail rumors related to Lake Ann Pass and Hope Pass. “Give yourself a ton of extra time” and “the snow is really sketchy” and “I got lost in the scree fields” and “the climb is brutal” and “Be careful up on Ann” was heard from hiker after hiker we passed. This made my wife pretty nervous. But when we got to Lake Ann Pass, we cruised up and down it without any issues whatsoever. It was weird. Same thing for Hope.
They were steep, don’t get me wrong (the lower 900 vertical feet of Hope headed North can die in a hole). But, they were not technical, not sketchy and not hard to navigate. We talked a lot about why people were saying what they were. We came to the conclusion that for a lot of people headed southbound through this section, Hope and Ann are the first two major passes they have to contend with. So while we had already been hiking in the Collegiates for 10 and 11 days already, they were just getting exposed to the range. Add in some embellishment to support the major effort it takes to climb them and bam, you get the messaging we received from these hikers. It really helped us to process this and ultimately reinforced to ourselves that we are strong hikers, could handle the range and were well equipped. Don’t buy into the trail rumors!
In a few areas on the West Side, camping can be limited. You really don’t want to be camping in a wide open exposed area at 12,400 ft if you can avoid it. The guide book states in one section between Hancock Lakes and Cottonwood Pass to do as much of it as you can in a single day. We got a tip from mittencamper that there was actually a few campsites in Mineral Basin. I had a waypoint on my map and ended up finding the site no problem. Just as you come around the big rock cliff into the Basin (about .1 miles south of the marked stream on guthooks), down the cliff on the right there are a few protected sites. Fantastic site and I would recommend it if you wanted to break up that section into a bit more lax sections.
We only had one wet creek crossing the entire trip and that was Texas Creek. Otherwise, everything else had logs or rocks to get across without getting wet.
The West Side was an immediate favorite for us. Personally, the view from the ridges before Cottonwood Pass looking East were absolutely incredible. My wife’s favorite view was from the top of Hope Pass looking South. One, because it was the final obstacle of the trip and two, because it was a major milestone for her personally. If you only had 5-7 days in this area, I would absolutely recommend the West Side. You will suck wind up Hope if you are trying to acclimate, but the views are a million times worth it. The East Side has its moments, but ultimately doesn't compete with the West Side with overall experience, views and granjour.
Gear That Worked
Overall, our gear was dialed. We did not have any gear failures. We were always dry, warm and comfortable. Nothing in our kit was new and we have hundreds of miles on everything. I think this played well for us as nothing was unexpected and everything went without a hitch. A few standout piece of gear for us:

The Zpacks Duplex - hot damn I love this shelter. I maintain that it is the perfect and best two person UL shelter on the market. Going into the trip I was a bit worried about condensation and managing wetness when it rained. However, we found that even after a night full of pouring rain and condensation, if pitched at lunch in the sun, it was dry within 15 minutes. Not just mostly dry, bone dry. Additionally, we found that if there was no wind, we could leave both doors wide open and remain dry. This prevented all condensation even on the wettest and dankest nights/mornings near bodies of water. Absolute banger of a shelter.
KS50 pack and SWD framed 35 - Our packs were champs. From a 5.5 day carry to a 3 day carry, they were adaptable, comfortable and absolutely perfect. Personally, the KS50 is my favorite pack I have ever used. I love everything about it and it just simply works and is comfortable. Very happy to put it on every morning.
Kula Cloth - This is a cottage pee rag by the company Kula Cloth. My wife said that this was a game changer. She has used it all season, but she noted that on a long trip, the amount of tp that you can avoid using when peeing is substantial. Between this and the pstyle, she could pee standing up without dropping trou and without any tp. Super cool.
Patagonia Thermal Weight Zip Neck - I picked this up right before the trip and was the only thing in my kit that I had not used before. It ended up being indispensable. I wore it every night in camp, to sleep and in the morning hiking for the first few hours. I found I could keep it on while hiking in the morning sun up to almost 50F! Conversely, it kept me warm in camp sitting around into the mid 40s. This thing is surprisingly warm but also shockingly breathable. I am definitely getting the hooded version.
Nunatak 3D Quilt 25F - This is my end game bag. It has all the benefits of a mummy bag (no drafts primarily, no straps) and none of the negatives of a mummy bag (no hood in your face, hard to get lost in, zipper never snags). I was toasty warm every night into the mid 30’s.
Western Mountaineering Highlite 35F - This is the bag that my wife used. Holy shit this thing just does not make sense to me haha. The thing is years old, weighs like 15 or 16 oz in short, is sewn through and yet its rating of 35F is dead on accurate. On top of a NeoAir Xlite, she was never cold including a night into the mid 30s at 12,400ft. I don’t know what magic voodoo the folks at Western Mountaineering put into that thing but my wife is in love with it.
Soto Windmaster (with the ignitor removed) + Evernew 570 ml Ti Pot - This stove setup was perfect for the conditions. The regulated Soto Windmaster stove sipped fuel even at altitude. We boiled two cups, three times a day (two for dinners, one for coffee in the morning). I am fairly sure we could have gotten away with a single 8oz canister the entire 13 days. We ditched one in the hiker box at Monarch, but the stove was shockingly good. It boiled quickly, was pretty much unfazed by the wind, was easy to control and just simply worked. The pot boils 2 cups (16oz) perfectly. The lid, while a bit heavier than foil goes on snug and stays put. The handles are rarely too hot to grab and the pot only weighs 1.8oz!!! We love this setup!

Gear That Honked
Honestly, our gear was extremely dialed. We did not have any gear failures, major annoyances or anything that went wrong related to our kits. Our packs were sufficiently light and comfortable the entire trip (even with a 5 day food carry). We both are very happy with what we brought and only have a few very minor changes we would make if we did it again.
The first would be quick charge wall plugs and battery bank. We shared a Anker Powercore 10K (version 1) which was enough battery capacity for us. However, at Monarch Pass when we were trying to resupply and recharge the pack, its major flaw was very obvious. We sat there not hiking for an additional 2 hours longer than we wanted to stay, waiting for it to charge up for the next 5.5 day stretch. We both decided that a Quick Charge (or Power Delivery) wall plug and battery pack would be well worth the slight added weight. This would have allowed us to leave earlier in the morning and get over the exposed CDT section north of Monarch Pass earlier to avoid the storm which caused us to have to bail off Bald Mountain. The next longer hike with a resupply, we will be picking up a QC or PD plug and battery pack.
Another minor note. I don’t think the Ursacks were necessary. We saw zero signs of bears over the 13 days we were out there. The rodents were not a problem or particularly bold from what we could tell either. Sleeping with your food in an Opsak felt like a safe and legit method of hiking. Hell...all the CT and CDTers were doing it. You certainly couldn't do a proper bear hang out here though...the nature of the trees would make it almost impossible. So IMO, sleep with it in an Opsak or do the Ursack.
Gear Sightings
I am obviously a UL nerd and take a mental note of every pack and tent that I pass by. I noted the following gear sightings on trail. I have to say, I was shocked by how many people were UL out there. In Oregon, it seems that ULers make up roughly 20-30% of people I see on trail. On this trip, my wife and I were thinking it was around 60-70% of hikers we saw!
We saw a ton of ULA, Zpacks and HMG packs on trail followed closely by Gossamer Gear and Osprey Exos. I also noted a surprising amount of MyTrailCo (my they rest in peace) packs which makes sense as they are “based” in Boulder.
Some of the most street-cred UL hypebeast packs I noted were: a Nashville Packs running vest pack (supa hot fire), a LiteAF in galaxy print, a couple with a Pa’lante Joey and a Cuben Burn (fresh AF), a v1 Pa’lante Simple, a fully custom Zimmerbuilt which was x-pac and hybrid cuben, a 100% gridstop Superior Wilderness Designs pack, a Zimmerbuilt Quickstep, MYOG pack made of fabric with donuts printed on it and a really old Golite Jam. My KS pack was the only KS Ultralight I noticed on the trail.
Saw a lot of Zpack Duplex’s, one Tarptent Notch Li and a surprising number of tarp setups. There were a lot of non-UL shelters out there though. Well...not really UL like MSR Hubba Hubbas, Big Agness Fly Creeks, etc.
Summary
So in summary, this was the best trip we have ever been on. The longest, most beautiful, most challenging, most rewarding and most enjoyable backpacking trip we have been on. Thanks for bearing with the wall of text. I hope that it is enjoyable and maybe helpful for someone else planning on hiking this loop.

[race report] Cascade Crest 100 Mile Endurance Run

Who would cross the Bridge of Death must answer me these questions three...

What... is your name? iggywing (Strava; my GPS was bonkers though)
What... is your quest? Cascade Crest 100 Mile Endurance Run, Easton, WA. Course Map and Elevation Chart so you can follow along.
What... is the airspeed velocity of an unladen swallow? Certainly faster than I was moving in this race, which took nearly 34 hours!

History and Training

Cascade Crest was to be my second 100 miler, first mountain 100 miler, and first race that is a qualifier for Western States and Hardrock. It is a loop course that begins and ends in Easton, WA (in the mountains an hour east of Seattle) so you have 100 unique miles to cover. It has 23,000 feet of elevation gain that's pretty evenly distributed throughout the route, with the crux of the race coming between miles 70 and 96 where you are sufficiently far into the wilderness that if you get yourself in trouble, you'll need to self-extract because there's no good spot to drop out. It's talked up as having an "old school" feel, which was exactly what I was after. I entered the lottery and ended up #96 on the waitlist; I was finally accepted into the race on August 1st, but I had already planned all my training and racing as if I was going to get in, since historically it seemed like I had a good shot at gaining entry.
I averaged about 60 mpw with one good long run a week, but not a ton of workouts, and most of that volume was in short run commutes of 3.5 to 5 miles. I got some big hikes in on some weekends, and also did some treadmill vert miles since Boston doesn't have any hills longer than half a mile. The run commuting did the job, but it's not really what I'd recommend... it's just what I had to do to get running in with a busy work schedule in what has been kind of a make-it-or-break it year for my research career. That said, I did have a really good training cycle leading up to the Sugarloaf Marathon in late May.

Pre-race

My brother-in-law lives in Seattle so we had a place to stay. A couple friends have family and mutual friends in Seattle as well, so I, my wife, and my friends flew out together; they very kindly offered to crew me at the race, which was wonderful. We landed Friday and spent the day settling in, then got up early Saturday morning to make the drive out to Easton. We pulled in to the start line at the Easton Fire Station around 7:30am for a 9:00am race start. I gathered my bib and race swag, got a SPOT tracker attached to my pack, listened to the pre-race briefing, got a pre-race picture for friends and family to remember me by, and in no time we were lining up for the start of the race.

The race!

Start to Tacoma Pass (mile 0 - 25.4)

We took off from the fire station at 9:00am and headed out along a dirt road for a couple miles before reaching some steep, rutted-out singletrack climbing up to Goat Peak. Everyone here settled into a nice, comfortable hike, and I found myself in a group chatting with a lovable lunatic who, after having run the triple crown of 200 milers last year, has finished a 100 mile race almost every week this year -- he had just run Leadville, Angeles Crest, Ouray, and Vermont in the last month. He's going for the record for 100 mile races completed in a year (he was interviewed on Ultrarunner Podcast if you want to learn more). I decided, appropriately, that under no circumstances was I to attempt to pass this dude while he was moving. We chatted a bit about some of his favorites, and Ouray came highly recommended, though I need to work up to that one (40,000+ feet of gain at altitude).
I made sure to take my time with this group because I knew there was no point burning myself out on early climbs. The trail climbed steadily but switchbacks made it quite comfortable. After cresting the climb (picture) and following a couple rolling miles of singletrack, we hit the first "aid station" at about 10 miles in, but it was way more sparse than I expected because of crappy road access... they had enough water, but I felt bad even taking three crackers. The runners manual totally says "minimal aid" but I guess I hadn't truly internalized that; luckily I'd packed enough calories to get me through to Tacoma without an aid station.
The trail gently descended a nicely runnable grade for a few miles then gently ascended at a grade that I decided to hike again up to the Blowout Mountain aid station. This one was the first big aid station and it was luxurious: they had BLUEBERRY SMOOTHIES!!! I sucked one of those puppies down with great excitement. I hit this point (mile 15.2) at 12:43 (3:43 elapsed), and realized then that all the splits I gave my crew were going to be too fast. I was taking it easy and felt great, but I hadn't expected to be there any later than 12:30pm and this delay was only going to compound... I wasn't worried because I was just focused on my effort rather than any time, but I kinda felt bad that I blew the pace estimates for my crew. Oh well! At least there was live SPOT tracking whenever they could get cell service.
After a bit of a climb past the aid station, there was an optional 400ft turnoff to a viewpoint at the true summit of Blowout Mountain. I took the opportunity, and it was quite worth it, both for the view and the bonus snazzy lil' coin reward. It looked like more of us midpackers were taking the detour than not, but when I returned to the course from the summit I wanted to yell to one runner ahead of me on the trail who hadn't that she was a fool for skipping out! Hopefully she was a local.
Right after this we joined up with the Pacific Crest Trail, which was really beautifully maintained singletrack with minimal roots and rocks. It was largely rolling the entire way to Tacoma Pass and I was able to just zone out and enjoy the scenery. I was still hiking pretty much every uphill and running everything flat and downhill. Around here I had a few moments where I started cramping up a little in my inner thighs, which would slow me up here and there and cause me to stop and stretch it out. This has been a persistent annoyance with every trail race I've done, but it gets better each time, so I think it's just a strength thing that I'll hopefully overcome. I hit Tacoma at 3:48pm (6:48 elapsed) and saw my crew for the first time there (picture). I didn't have to change out anything there, just grabbed a couple favored snacks and headed right off.

Tacoma Pass to Hyak (mile 25.4 - 54.3)

The next section to Stampede Pass, at mile 36, was all on smooth and runnable Pacific Crest Trail. The leg cramping was still a thing, but not too debilitating. Not long after leaving Tacoma, I came upon an unofficial beer aid station with an accompanying rowdy cheer squad, so I took a quick swig of Rainier. This whole section was pretty uneventful as I cruised through the Snowshoe Butte aid station and on to Stampede Pass where I saw my crew for the second time at 6:44pm, 9:44 elapsed. They were ready with a checklist and I got my headlamp, changed out my socks, and was right back out there into the evening.
This next stretch blurs together a bit in my mind, but I found myself in a group of five runners and I mostly just focused on hanging with them for as long as I could. Some parts of this section were a bit more technical than I expected with a lot of loose rock, plus the sun had set, and together that slowed my pace a little. A lot of hikers were camped just feet off the trail, especially around Mirror Lake, some of whom were asleep and others who were outside chilling by their shelters and cheering on the passing runners, which was pretty cool. At Olallie Meadows aid, I sucked down a few pirogues (and a nice curry sour cream sauce!) and potato soup and got right out of there, but at this point the group had splintered and I was alone again.
Not long after leaving the aid station I reached one of the more interesting points of the course. The course leaves the PCT and bombs down a steep bushwhack marked by a rope fixed between trees. There were bits with some really loose, dry dirt on a very steep hillside that made it extremely tricky to get down, so I had to make ample use of the rope to make it down safely. This tiny bit felt like it took ages because of the caution I needed to not fall on my butt, but it was a fun change of pace. Once I hit the bottom of the roped descent, I turned onto a gravel rail trail that ended at the famous Snowqualmie Tunnel.
The tunnel is an old rail tunnel that is about 2.2 miles long. I made myself run this whole section and it really felt like it went on forever. It was pitch black except for what was lit by my headlamp, though far ahead I could catch the glimpse of another runner's light... occasionally I'd see small mice scattering off to the side as I ran by. Each breath that I exhaled condensed in a thick fog that obscured my view. It was a weird but very cool experience running through this thing.
The tunnel opened back up onto rail trail that quickly turned into a parking lot, home of the Hyak aid station at mile 54, where I saw my crew again. I checked in at around 12:30am (15:30 elapsed), quite far from my pre-race ideals of arriving there before 11:00pm. This was the spot where my crew were really MVPs; I was feeling good overall and still running strong, but I was definitely much less alert and focused than earlier in the race. Before I knew what was happening, they were guiding me in a dazed state towards a spot with heated, indoor bathrooms that also happened to have a nice shower bench where I could take a seat. Once there, I changed into long pants and a long sleeve shirt for the night, refilled on all my goodies, chatted about the race, and regrouped for the second half. This was my longest pit stop of the night, probably close to 30 minutes, but it was worth it.

Hyak to Lake Kachess (mile 54.3 - 69.2)

Leaving Hyak, I crossed under the freeway and onto a paved service road. At this point I made my first mental mistake of the race... I could have run this whole section, easily, but I just didn't want to, so I didn't. There was no real reason for it and I didn't feel that bad, I just thought it was a good time to recover with walking. In retrospect, this was quite silly, because it was 2.5 miles of almost flat pavement before switching over to an uphill climb on a forest service road where powerhiking was inevitable. This is one section of the race I want to have back because I easily lost 20 minutes by being a lazy bum.
The climb was uneventful and unmemorable, it just kept going up a dirt road. Close to the top of the climb, I hit the Keechelus Ridge aid station, which I also don't remember much about, but I believe I had some soup. I think I took a five minute seat by the fire here to recharge and get some extra calories in, plus I popped a caffeine pill because I was getting really sleepy, but I didn't let myself linger too long. I was moving strong through this section and I passed a couple runners with their pacers that they had picked up at Hyak; one even pulled off and curled up to take a nap on the side of the road. After finally cresting the climb, I began the long descent down the dirt road, which was equally unmemorable. I ran this the whole way down, but my run was starting to become pretty awkward and labored, aided by my poles to keep my legs from getting too wrecked by the pounding. The fatigue of all the early race climbing was starting to catch up to me and slow me down, even though I was in good spirits.
The descent ended at Lake Kachess where I would see my crew for the last time until the end of the race. I showed up at 7:43am, 22:43 elapsed. I was good on equipment, so I just took another seat by another fire pit and had everyone bring me food (ramen and a grilled cheese sandwich, I think). The sun was rising now, so I left my headlamp with my crew and headed out into the morning, ready to face the hardest parts of the course in the next 20 miles.

Lake Kachess to Finish (mile 69.2 - 100)

The next section is a former bushwhack trail that runs along the western edge of Lake Kachess that is fondly referred to as the "Trail From Hell." I'd say it's had enough feet on it over the years to clearly be a real trail now, but it is littered with roots and rocks and has a ton of short ten foot scrambles up and down. It's impossible to get into any real rhythm on it. It begins with a river crossing, so you get start with wet feet; then about a mile in, I was lucky enough to be stung on my arm by a yellowjacket, which seemed just poetically perfect and didn't help matters very much. This section just went on and on and on, and I was passed by more people here than anywhere else in the race. I had naively expected I would make up time here, having experience on technical northeastern trails that have a lot of this rooty bullshit, but instead I was dragging. Had I not read about this being called the "Trail From Hell" this could've been a lower low than I reached, but it was made better by the realization that this part absolutely ought to suck and that was okay.
Finally, I passed the northern end of the lake and turned into the Mineral Creek aid station at mile 75. I have no idea how long it took to cover those six miles, but I'm sure it was embarassing. I recall nothing of this stop, I just got in and out and was off climbing another dirt road, very similar to the one I was on during the night. I bumped into one of the guys I was running the PCT with from Stampede to Olallie (Trevor) who was going for his 4th finish on his 9th start (if I recall correctly), but he was climbing very strong and took off ahead; I settled into a rhythm right behind and occasionally next to a girl named Sarah and hiked at a pretty good clip all the way to No Name Ridge, which I hit at 11:20am, 26:20 elapsed.
The No Name Ridge aid station crew was great, they had a bunch of BLUEBERRY PANCAKES!!! ready that really hit the spot. I also had a huge amount of Coca Cola for a little mid-morning boost. A woman working the station described the coming course to me as I chewed away dutifully, explaining how the climbs would be steep but not too long. Just out of the aid station, we got back on downhill trail, which was exciting for me and I was able to get my legs moving the best they'd been since before Lake Kachess. Unfortunately, my buddy Sarah nearly instantly cramped up on the downhill and I left her behind... sadly, it looks like she had to slow quite a bit and timed out.
The downhill running was short lived, however, as now it was time for 10 miles of the "Cardiac Needles". These climbs are aptly named. Most of the course traverses switchbacks on the climbs, but here the trails were blazed in the traditional east coast "fuck you" style and just go directly up the mountain. At this stage in the race, I literally could not find a pace up them that wasn't causing my heart to beat out of my chest. I couldn't decide whether to take it as slowly as possible, or to just maintain a normal cadence and treat it like intervals and catch my breath at the top. Either option sucked, and I found myself bending over to rest my forehead on the handles of my poles once I crested the climbs, which also wasn't a good move because if I stopped moving then my blood pressure started to drop and I felt like I was just going to fall over. Fuckin' 100 milers, amirite?!? The upside is that the views were baller.
The website says there are six of these, technically, but I had counted four because they were more notable than the others, and the first of those was the worst. At 86 miles I reached the Thorpe Mountain aid station, at the foot of one of the Needles and the high point of the course. Or, rather, when I reached it a dude told me that before I could go into the aid station, I had to climb 1/3 of a mile up to the summit of Thorp Mountain, complete a task, and return. This climb sucked, but I completed both climb and task, snapped a picture, and returned to my reward of freshly filled water bottles and more Coke. Leaving Thorp, there were just a couple more climbs, and then it'd be mostly downhill to the finish!
Forward movement was getting harder and harder, but as time passed, I was becoming more and more confident that I'd finish with time to spare. I hit the French Cabin aid station at 4:00pm (30:05 elapsed) and knew I had 4 hours to cover 10 mostly downhill miles... piece of cake. I made sure I was fueled up and headed out to crest one final Needle before it gave way to nothing but downhill running. It wasn't too bad, relative to the rest, and I was off.
At this point, my legs were no longer very good at downhills... the Needles had taken a lot out of me. I had to use my poles to keep a steady pace, and I knew I couldn't be going too quickly, but it was definitely faster than walking, so it was definitely faster than 4 mph, so I should definitely be at the finish by like 6:00pm, right? My watch distances were completely off so I couldn't estimate anything, but I figured I'd see the Silver Creek aid station at around 5:15pm, maybe earlier. But... it just never came. There was just more trail, and once 5:00pm passed, I started getting a little nervous. Where the hell am I? I saw a dude coming up the trail wearing a Cascade Crest t-shirt, probably a volunteer -- "how far am I from Silver Creek?" He didn't know, maybe two miles. Hm. I thought I was closer than that? But then I still have enough time...
At 5:20pm, with no aid station in sight, I panicked, and I switched into giving it my all on the downhill. How slow was I going this whole time? Was I really barely above a walking pace? It's a good thing I took off, too, because it wasn't until 5:47pm that I rolled into the aid station where my crew was awaiting and getting very nervous about how close I was getting to the cut-off (6:15pm to leave Silver Creek). I couldn't do the math at the time, but as I write this now I have no idea how it took me an hour and 45 minutes to cover 6 miles, because I would have sworn that I couldn't have possibly been moving slower than 15 minute miles when I'd never stopped running. It's like I got lost in a goddamn wormhole.
I was completely gassed at this point, but I had two of my crew members running with me to the finish from there, so I kept going. Eventually (probably five minutes later, but I was lost in the wormhole) I made them slow to run/walk intervals, and ultimately to just walking when it was clear I'd finish with some time to spare. I ran into Trevor yet again and congratulated him on having another finish in his sights. The last couple miles felt like they dragged on forever because it was around the perimeter of an airstrip and down a paved road, but we eventually made it and I crossed the finish line just before 6:45pm, with a final time of 33 hours, 44 minutes, and 46 seconds.

Post-race

I got high fives from the RD and co-RD, collected my buckle and a finisher's sweatshirt, posed for some pictures, and shambled my way on over to the fire station. I was locked in a hunt for electrolyte drink, since I'd blown through the last aid station and had gotten behind on my nutrition since French Cabin, but I couldn't find anything and settled for a can of soda. My crew found me a chair, but stopping and sitting caused me to start shivering, so they swaddled me in blankets and took a picture of my dead-eyed stare into nowhere. After warming up a little, together we loaded my carcass into the car for a drive back to the hotel, where I successfully made it up a flight of stairs and took a nap on a couch that I didn't quite fit on because I was too lazy to take a shower first and didn't want to get the bedsheets dirty #ultrarunnerproblems. My crew took a trip to the grocery store and bought me some soup and Gatorade. The next morning, I felt great aside from some very tight and sore legs (transitions from sitting to standing were the worst, but I was okay once I started moving), and an extra nap in the afternoon had me ready to visit some friends in Seattle. I started getting some flu-like symptoms on Tuesday, probably because I suppressed the crap out of my immune system, but I was over that by Thursday. I'm writing this now a week after finishing, and I'm mostly back to normal, just a little lingering soreness in my left foot and right calf.
My crew were a huge, huge help on this race and I can't thank them enough. I wasn't really sure how important a good crew would be, but they made a big difference at Hyak and Kachess. It's tough to think straight in an ultra, so having people looking out for you, getting you everything you need, and motivating you to get your tired butt moving again really can't be understated.

Next time?

I loved this race. It was a gorgeous course, a big challenge, and a wonderful community. I can't recommend it enough and if it were my local race, I'd be volunteering or running it every year. I'm sure I'll be back in time, but I'll probably explore other races first.
I'm obviously thrilled to have finished one of the tougher 100 milers in the US, but there are still definitely things I can do better for next time. First and foremost, my training was good but not great; I put fewer miles into training for this than I did for the Sugarloaf Marathon, I didn't get enough vert, and I didn't get enough intensity. A lot of this was just because I was unavoidably busy with life stuff, but it's important to accept that there are no shortcuts and if I want to say more than just "I finished" then I need to find a way to put in more work.
For now, it's back to focusing on 50Ks and marathons. I'll be doing another 100 next year, but I'll figure that out when lottery season is upon us.
Thanks for reading!

2019 Team State Bicycle Bike Check w/ Fixicblak

Maroon Bells - 4 Pass Loop

Where: Maroon Bells 4 Pass Loop (Aspen, CO) When: Sept 4th-7th Lighterpack: https://lighterpack.com/1g9w1z Pics: https://photos.app.goo.gl/JDMAEHFUFniZ2vMG6

Pre-trip travel:
I made the 12 hour drive down to Denver on the Friday before Labor Day weekend to visit a friend who just moved there. Mostly brewery hopping, although we hit a 6 mile out and back near Estes/RMNP (Bridal Veil Falls Trail) on the way to Fort Collins to spend the day. On Labor Day, my sistebrother flew to Denver to meet me and we made the 4ish hour drive to Snowmass to stay for the night. The drive to Aspen takes you right through the heart of downtown Leadville, so you can probably guess what pit stop I made. Finally grabbed a Melly and beanie, there were a fair amount of mediums which is my size and a few others (1 small, a few Xl I believe). Walked around Snowmass Village when we arrived trying to find food but everything as closed (probably because of the slow season). Just ordered pre-hike pizza to the hotel instead.

Day 1 - ~ 6.5 miles
Woke up early and headed from Snowmass to Aspen which is about a 15-20 minute drive. Grabbed a few last minute items at the grocery store then ate breakfast at a place called Jour De Fete which had amazing bagel sandwiches. Then we made the short trip to Aspen Highlands to grab the shuttles which start at 8AM. Paid for our shuttle at the counter and then grabbed the next bus around 8:30AM.
After a 20 minute shuttle ride, we were finally ready to begin. Made the very short walk down to Maroon Lake from the trailhead where a ranger was warning anyone backpacking that about 10 groups turned back the day prior because of snow at the higher elevations. I told her we were prepared and we went on our way. Filled out our free overnight permit right past Maroon Lake and started heading up the trail. It's a rocky start from Maroon Lake to Crater Lake (about 1.4 miles IIRC). The loop splits right before Crater Lake and you can go clockwise/counter clockwise. We opted for clockwise since the elevation increase is more gradual and we come from zero elevation in the Midwest. Crater Lake was more like Crater Pond, only a big of stagnant water hanging around. When headed up trail slowly gaining elevation. Stopped near a creek to eat lunch and refill on water. Our plan was to make camp just below West Maroon Pass to acclimate a bit more before tackling West Maroon and Frigid Air passes the next day. I've always heard campsites were hard to come by on the 4 Pass Loop but we didn't have much problem since it was later in the season and during the week. We leapfrogged a few groups on the first day and passed a few going the other way but it wasn't crowded at all. We decided to start looking for sites below West Maroon Pass and found a great one up a little higher. Chilled at camp, then moved our bear cans a bit away right before bed.

Day 2 - ~ 5.5 miles
Woke up early and made breakfast. Oats with peanut butter power and honey sticks was breakfast for each day and the only food I regret the whole trip. Just flavorless gloop. Packed up camp and started heading towards West Maroon Pass. This is the first time I can really start feeling the elevation. My legs feel fine but I can only make it about 40-50 yards before taking a break to catch my breath. Same with my bro and sis, it's a long slow slog to the top. Weather looks like it's about to start moving in even though we got an early start. It starts to drizzle so we bust out the rain jackets and I bust out my rain skirt (which caused a few facetious comments from passing hikers). Temperature starts to drop as we get to the top of the pass. There wasn't much of a view because of all the clouds so we start heading down. We hit a small lake right at the foot of Frigid Air Pass, where a drizzle turns into rain. There wasn't really any lighting so we decided to head up the pass. Rain turns into hail. Hail turns into sleet. And sleet turns into snow about halfway up the pass. We snap a few pics at the top of the pass and start heading downhill. The switchbacks on the other side are super sketchy with mud. A lot of slipping and sliding with sheer dropoffs is no fun. My hands are freezing as my gloves became wet. I have shells tucked into my OR Versaliners but I let my sis borrow them. After we are down off the pass we are all exhausted and finally get lunch when we hit treeline again. We probably only ended up hiking about another mile or so and found a decent campsite so we took it. I'm a dope and realize I left my Trekology pillow loose in my pack so it's soaked. I have to stuff my puffy in my Zpacks clothes bag for a pillow that night. We have a lot of soaked clothes which won't dry.

Day 3 - ~ 7 miles
A pretty cold night/morning, and a lot of condensation in the tent. The foot end of my quilt is pretty wet and I start to worry it won't dry with the overcast weather (along with my other clothes). We start out flat for a bit, then head down into a valley when the sun decides to finally make an appearance. We all agreed that first chance of sun we would stop and dry out all our gear. So we took about an hour break and were able to get the quilts dry along with a few other pieces of clothing. One pair of Exofficio briefs and my gloves are still pretty damp but we decide to move on. I take off my wind pants and use my cap tights under my shorts which are finally sort of dry. We start making the slow ascent over Trailrider pass which is just about as slow as the rest of them. It's a bit intimidating when you see the trails up these passes, just takes a bit of time. Clouds start moving in about the last 1/2 mile or so, and I'm thinking we will be at our 3rd pass without a view. Just about before we get to the top the clouds move out and we finally have something to look at. When it isn't covered in clouds the entire hike is like walking around in a painting. It's just unreal. After heading down the pass, we get our first views of Snowmass Lake where we planned to camp. We spotted a few good sites on the south side of the lake from up high only to watch them get nabbed by the time we got down there. So we kept hiking to the north side of the lake and took a small side trail only to find a great campsite within earshot of a few waterfalls.

Day 4 - ~ 8 miles
Condensation on the tent again, left one of the vestibules open the prior night to increase airflow. We woke up early to break camp and get hiking since we had a 4 hour drive back to Denver that afternoon. We headed through the forest by Snowmass and down into a valley where everything was frozen. Then we started the difficult ascent up Buckskin pass. It kicked my ass and it seemed never ending. Amazing views again at the top so we hung out for a little bit and took a break. From there it's pretty much all downhill back to the trailhead. It's brutal on the legs but easy on the lungs. Then ...... my sister gets a partial meniscus tear about 2 miles out from the trailhead. Not good of course, but at least it happened towards the end and not below a pass. She is able to walk, but it's mostly rock hopping and very slow. I carried her pack over my shoulder along with mine for the last 2 miles which is really hell on the legs. The last day we passed a lot of hikers going the other way, seems that heading up Buckskin pass and hiking at Snowmass for the night then hiking out is pretty popular. Also, a ton of day hikers. We grabbed the shuttle back to Aspen Highlands, and we were the only backpackers heading out. I'm sure a few of them around us weren't happy with the smells :D Grabbed pizza at Taster's in Aspen then made the trek back to Denver. Booked a hotel near the airport. My brother drove my car back 12 hours the next day, my sister flew home, and I flew to Florida to stay with my friend's family for the week.

Gear thoughts

Items I did not use: Beanie, bug net, DEET. Bugs were never a problem. I'm used to lots of bugs. Ended up using my Melly Hood or puffy hood if the head was cold.
Already brought it up, but need to put my pillow in my pack liner with my sleeping bag. That just totally escaped me for some reason.
You won't notice a tent in my Lighterpack, that is because my sister carried it. Instead I got a bear can with food for 2 people for 4 days :|
Loved the Melly, it was plenty versatile. Could have probably gotten away with night bringing the Montbell Puffy and layering the Melly/rain jacket. But I didn't have a chance to field test that since I picked up the Melly along the way.
The ULA Circuit carries heavier loads like a dream. It was the first pack I bought when I started down UL and made the mistake of buying pack first and everything else later. Wish I would have had at least went with the OHM. For trips without a bear can I normally carry my MLD Prophet.
I need a smaller power bank. Told myself that after Pictured Rocks in June and didn't do anything about it. Just need to charge my InReach and phone about once in 4 days.
Ditched my NeoAir Xlite for a Nemo Tensor and I'll take that extra 3oz all day long. I hated the Xlite on previous trips.
My EE 20 degree was great, and kept me plenty warm. However, it's just too long for me (I have reg/wide version). I'm going to sell it to my brother and upgrade to a Katabatic quilt.
I love my Timps. Haven't had a single blister or hot spot with them.
I'm was happy with my whole cook set. Amicus worked great. My bro/sis both used the BRS stove without any issues.
Trail toes worked great after my feet were soaked. Also helped when I had some very minor chaffing.

The Capitol Creek Circuit in Colorado

As a new backpacker, this was my most ambitious trip to date. I learned so much about my gear and about myself. I rediscovered some old knowledge left over from my Marine Corps days, and gained back some mental fortitude. I’m doing this trip report as an outlet for my experiences and thoughts on the trail, but also because there is a lack of resources on the Capitol Creek Circuit. What resources there are can be misleading and downright inaccurate. I’ll be the first to admit that I made some serious mistakes while out on the trial, but I hope this report will save others from repeating these mistakes. Overall, I would do this trail again. I wouldn’t even think twice about it. 10,000 ft in elevation gains will toughen you up for sure.
When: Aug 13th-16th 2018
Where: Maroon Bells Snowmass Wilderness near Aspen, CO
Distance: 38.6 Miles
LighterPack: https://lighterpack.com/33sj5
Photos: https://imgur.com/gallery/MM9yry5
Day 1: Austin, TX- Denver ~775 miles via Airplane (650ft in Austin to 5280ft in Denver)
Denver to Leadville ~100 miles (~10,152 ft)
Leadville to Capitol Creek Trailhead ~83 miles (~9505 ft)
Ditch Trail to Capitol Lake Mile 0-6 (~6.0 miles) (~9505 ft to ~11602ft)
I’ll cut right to Leadville and Melanzana. I was not terribly impressed with the micro hoodie, at least not enough to justify the megahype on this subreddit, but I went ahead and bought one (Size XL, all gray, 12 oz). I could see myself using it on some future trips, but I mainly bought it for day use here in Texas and because I wanted to support a local business. They were incredibly patient with me, answered all my questions about the company, and truly make well thought quality products. I even bought a beanie for my GF which weighed 0.55 oz for a medium. Inventory was low, options were sparse, but I did not see a single employee slack off as they feverishly worked on making new products.
The immediate road to the trailhead is rough. The Hyundai Elantra I rented made it all the way, but there were some serious bumps and dings to and from the trailhead (SPOILER ALERT: this is actually me and I made it out alive).
Once at the trailhead, I chose to start on the Ditch Trail. This parking lot is home to two trailheads. I chose to start with the one that is a little further up to the West. Here is where I’ll introduce a common theme to this story: mislabeling. The trailhead is labeled as “Upper Capitol Peak Trail”, not to be confused with just “Capitol Creek Trail” located 100 ft to the East. The physical trail can be confusing, and downright nonexistent in some portions, but my advice is to trust your gut and be somewhat savvy with navigation to combat this. Do not be discouraged. You do not need to be Andrew Skurka to complete this Loop, just have a good head on your shoulders.
Once on the Ditch Trail, I headed south. I encountered at least two separate streams on my way to Capitol Lake. I almost never had to carry more than 2 Liters on this trip, and I could have probably gotten away with carrying just one on most parts. For reference, Colorado had a mild winter and has been experiencing an equally mild monsoon season. Ditch Trail eventually intersects with the Capitol Creek Trail, and I followed the later all the way to Capitol Lake.
Capitol Lake reminded me of the Fellowship of the Ring, when the gang has to fight the Kraken before making their way into the Mines of Moria. It could have been the twilight, but the water looked as deep and dark as the Pacific Ocean. Capitol Peak loomed over the lake at ~14,131 feet, and the pass right next to it.
Camping by the lake is prohibited, but just short of the lake, there are 8 camp sites. I set up my bivy and tarp and went to sleep. I experienced the most amount of rain of this trip on this first night, with light sporadic drizzling.
Day 2: Capitol Lake to Geneva Lake; Mile 6.0-19.7 (~13.7 miles) (~11,602ft to ~10,988ft)
I couldn’t sleep, so I rolled out of my quilt and started breaking camp around 3:30AM. Temperatures were in the low 40s during the coldest point of the night. I made my way to the lake, ate some food, cameled up, and thought of my egress route in case the Kraken surfaced. I started my way up Capitol Pass which I could see up ahead even in full darkness and just a small headlamp. The pass was not very challenging. In fact, I was on top of it before I realized it (~12,027 ft).
I started a rapid descent from the pass and into the tree line. Crossed a gentle creek and continued down. Here is where you need to pay attention. From Capitol Pass to Avalanche Pass, the trail is extremely hard to keep track of. Out of the few people I found and spoke to, they had the most trouble in this section because of navigation problems. It is imperative to bring along a physical map to supplement a GPS. I had both, at this point of the story at least, and still managed to mess up.
I continued on Capitol Creek Trail and came to a junction. This is where you should turn and cross a large creek, but…this is not what I did. You should turn onto Avalanche-Silver Creek Trail and move forward from here. I remember getting to this junction, but the name was slightly different on the post then what was registered on my map and GPS. I don’t remember what it was exactly, but it was enough to make me question whether this was the right trail to tun on. It was indeed, but instead continued towards Avalanche Lake. There is good camping to be had here, and the lake is beautiful.
I realized I was off trail once I got to the lake, so I doubled back and checked my GPS. The GPS had me cross the creek across some logs instead of at the junction, but when I reached the other side, there was no physical trail. I saw on both the paper map and the GPS that the trail switched back behind a small but steep hill that sat right in front of me. So, I climbed the hill instead of going back a mile to find the right junction. I bushwhacked up, around, over, and down the other side of the hill to find the trail. I finally got back to the trail, but lost two hours and my physical map. I felt pretty vulnerable at this point.
I continued uphill for a few more hours through various switchbacks and along many rocky ridgelines. There were a few water sources, but many were tiny streams. A water scoop might be helpful. Be on the lookout for cairins as much of the trail is lost to grass as well as full of wrong turns created by hikers taking the wrong path. There is no signage from Avalanche Lake to Avalanche Pass.
I finally got to the top of Avalanche Pass (~12232 ft). Behind me lay mostly barren ridgelines with some small grass. Ahead of my lay a meadow of wildflowers, and in the distance pine trees. It was clear to me how weather can be affected in the mountains here. This side had benefited from rain, whereas the other side was somewhat barren. I enjoyed the gentle down hill and flatness of this plush valley.
The trail was well kept here, and I easily made it to another junction. I made a left turn North on the Lost Trail Road, which is a somewhat paved road meant for jeeps, ATVs, dirt bikes, and other off-road vehicles. You’ll pick up miles here and lose elevation. This road and the last stretch of the valley after Avalanche Pass is mainly dry, but the near the Geneva Lake Trailhead is a beautiful cascading stream with water.
Once I got to the trailhead I turned once more to the left and up North to Geneva Lake. There was plenty of signage on the Geneva Lake Trail as I steadily climbed over 1000 ft over the next two miles at the end of my day. I saw a huge waterfall, but was too wiped out be super impressed at the time. There was plenty of camping sites at Geneva Lake and apparently plenty of fishing too. Some ding dongs tried to start at fire to cook said fish even though it was prohibited, but thankfully, they did not possess the knowledge on how to start one. I saw the lake sits in a deep basin, and prepared for a cold night.
Day 3: Lake Geneva to just short of Haystack Pass; Mile 19.7-33.1 (~13.4 Miles) (~10,988ft-10,352ft)
I have never gotten as good sleep as I got at Geneva Lake despite the temperature drop into the low 40s. I packed up and continued uphill out of the basin, headed West towards Trail Rider Pass. Past a small lake I began my climb up the pass. The trail zig zags up a in a general West Northwest direction from here, to the pass, and beyond to Snowmass Lake. The pass was hard since it’s the tallest point of the trial (~12,423 ft), but there was not a constant grind uphill like with Avalanche Pass, so it was done fairly quickly. Hagerman Peak lay to the Northwest (~13,841 ft).
I had a delightful snack with a woman and her two dogs at the top and discussed her recent CT success, before heading down the trail. This portion of the trail runs in conjunction with the Four Pass Loop. I ran into A LOT of people. Anecdotally about three times more than I had during the first two days. However, I never felt as if the trail was stuffed like a can of Vienna sausages.
I’d like to now address a common statement I came across while planning my shelfed Four Pass Loop trip, since the two trails intersect here. I did see a lot of poop in the ground. However, the poop encountered wasn’t from backpackers, but rather from cattle and horses. Any portion of trial near a trailhead, or some of the more popular spots on these two trails will encounter this problem. The reason being is that some portions of the national forest are privately owned by ranchers. Some of the surrounding private property near the forest is also occupied by the ranchers. Some individuals bring their horses to the trail for recreational riding. For what it’s worth, I saw very little traces of human feces.
I bypassed Snowmass Lake and stayed at elevation since I had enough water and wanted to save my legs for Haystack Pass. The forest was beautiful. I ran into squirrels, marmots, chipmunks, and a series of small streams and creeks. A man on the Four Pass Loop asked if I was carrying enough stuff and food, as my pack was very small. I took this as a complement and continued. The trial is also very flat here with a very gradual slope downward so I covered a lot of ground in no time. After some switchbacks, I passed some small ponds and crossed a beaver dam to make it across a small creek.
Here you are in another valley going North, and you can see clearly here how the Maroon Bells are so different then the surrounding mountains. To your right on the East side of the trail, the light purplish pink hue of the Bells made from mudstone, and to the West lay solid gray behemoths. It was striking.
Eventually, I came to another junction and the trail became a little hazy. Again the junction was off on the GPS, and the trials were named slightly different. On the maps, I should be turning onto West Snowmass Creek Trail. However I was presented with West Snowmass Trail and Maroon Snowmass Trial.
West Snowmass Trail was the right option but I was confused since the trail led across a creek and onto private property. I decided to travel a little further on Maroon Snowmass Trial since It seemed like the junction I was going for was only about ten minutes further. I went those ten minutes, and even arrived to the junction on my GPS, but instead I was standing in a middle of a cow paddy.
Thankfully, the owner of the private property came by on his horse and informed me that I had indeed passed up the appropriate turn off earlier, and to follow that trial all the way to Haystack Mountain and Haystack Pass.
So I crossed the creek, which came up to about my knees and followed the trail West onto private property. The trail here is at times overgrown, and there are many tiny trails that cross the main trail which are not listed. There are also cattle trails that can seem like the main trail, but are not. The trail is also structured very differently from the way its presented on the map and GPS. Basically, be on your game. You are no longer on the well kept trails of the Four Pass Loop.
I moved from the junction on a continuous uphill for another three plus miles and 2000 ft before ending my day around 5:30PM. I usually keep going until about an hour before sunset, but I was already beat and if I continued for another hour or so, I would be on top of the pass racing daylight on what seemed on the map a very VERY steep pass.
I chose a very nice rare flat portion of the trail with plenty of foliage to provide warmth and trees to provide wind breaks. This is the only time I dry camped. There was a nice stream about a half mile back where I encountered the one mosquito on the whole trail, but the next source of water was at the bottom on the other side of Haystack Mountain.
Day 3.5: Just short of Haystack Pass to Right on top; Mile 33.1 to 34.7 (~1.6 Miles) (~10,352ft -11,976ft)
Things are about to get weird. I wake up around 10:30PM, fully awake. I toss and turn for about another hour before I decide enough is enough, and I’m going to try and hike out the remainder of the trail. The trail had become a little easier to navigate so I figured I could just plop right over the top of the pass, hike, and get to my car by daylight, and fill my body with all the McGriddles I could possibly buy. Not my smartest moment. Plus I was really thirsty, so I thought I might as well hike over to the next water source.
I break camp around 12:30AM and head West. I ran into a herd of cows on the way to Haystack Pass. I at first saw only one pair of eyes. Which was creepy enough since they didn’t answer my “Hello?” And I as I looked around, I saw a butt load surrounding me. My first thought was that I had run into a small camp of people, but the eyes kept multiplying. My brain of course came to the conclusion that this must be aliens. Finally, a cow walked close enough to for me to figure out the situation. I bypassed the scary cows and make my way Northwest to the top of the pass. It was easy work (~11,976 ft). And the view was worth all my future troubles.
The entire Milky Way floated above my head and into the sky. I’ve seen the Milky Way a handful of times before, but I guess you never quite got use to it. A small meteor entered the atmosphere and broke up. I’ll never forget that moment.
My situation on the ground had changed though. There was no trail. I mean that in the literal sense. There was no trail down on the other side of the pass. I walked around. I consulted the GPS. But every step was extremely risky. The edge of the mountain seemed to drop off into oblivion because of how steep the decline was. I was scared shitless. I consulted the GPS and it confirmed that the grade of steepness down from the pass varied form roughly 40-50 degrees. I was essentially boned. Either make my way down this steep mountain pass with no trail to follow or find a place to make camp. I chose the latter, and cowboy camped by a small outcrop of pines. I fall asleep dramatically watching the stars and wondering if I’d ever wake up.
Day 4: Haystack Pass to Capitol Creek Trailhead; Mile 34.7-38.6 (~3.9 Miles) (~11,976 ft-9,477 ft)
I already told you earlier I live. But I didn’t know that at the time. Surprisingly, despite sleeping on top of the pass, I only woke up once from the chills. I slept with most of my clothes on including my trail runners. I wrapped myself in my quilt and tarp to break whatever wind the pines didn’t catch. On top of it all, I slept really well. But clouds had come in and they threatened a downpour but only managed sporadic light drizzle. I quickly break camp, but my situation hadn’t changed.
I thought that maybe I could find the trail with daylight, but it was still nonexistent. I could see some unconnected cow trails, but nothing substantial. At first, I started following the GPS, but I eventually put it away. It wanted me to follow a gully all the way down the mountain. The gully was made of unstable rock, and mud from the on and off drizzle of the morning. I fell and slid and tumbled on three separate occasions. Each time, I somehow managed to stop myself. I was in a dangerous situation. I looked to my GPS one last time and decided that instead of going straight down as it suggested, I would L shape off the mountain, taking an easier slope to the west. The contour lines were a smidge more spaced out there.
My intuition was correct, and I safely passed down to flatter terrain and made my way to the creek promised on the other side of Haystack via Capitol Creek Trail. All in all, the descent took me two hours, and I became frustrated enough to write this long winded trail report in the hopes that no one repeats my mistakes and has an easier time with what is otherwise an amazing trail.
At the aforementioned creek, the trail intersects with the West Snowmass Creek Trail which should have safely taken me down from the pass. The change of perspective confirmed there was no trail down. Where there should have been a trail, there was nothing but mud and grass. Lessons to take way: don’t fully trust and rely on GPS maps, and learn basic navigation. What little I had left over from my Marine days saved me many more hours on Haystack Mountain.
The remainder of the trail was essentially a victory lap which remained flat until the last half mile up to the trailhead where my rental car was parked. I made my way down the bumpy dirt road until I headed west on 82 to a Whole Foods where I dropped $28 on food. It was glorious.
Gear:
I tested a lot of new gear on this trip. I’ll mention briefly the items that stood out to me, and feel free to ask me any questions about the gear or the trip itself:

Torso Length Z-Lite: I moved away from a modified Thermorest Xlite Long because I just couldn’t get comfortable on the inflatable pad. The CCF gave me some of the best sleep I’ve ever gotten on trail. I was even able to sleep on my side for brief amounts of time (6.08 oz)
Borah Bug Bivy: John was extremely helpful with some modifications I asked for such as the Argon foot panel for a breathable splash guard. I had plenty of room in the bivy, especially since I’m a back sleeper when on trail. Everyone should do business at Borah. (4.80 oz)
Zpacks Cuben Tarp 7x9 ft: With the Skurka guyline system, this tarp was easy to set up. There was plenty of room in the A-Frame set up for extra gear to stay shielded. No other set ups were tested in the field, but I never felt the need since it was plenty big for one person. (5.60 oz)
Big Sky Pillow: I tried the Flex Pillow. I wasn’t hardcore enough. You guys seemed to love this pillow, so I gave it a shot. I am now a convert despite the price. Since I was in a Bivy, I didn’t experience too much sliding. It supported my head like a mother’s hug. (1.44 oz)
Monbell Ex-Light Down Jacket: I tried using it on the move once, but almost overheated after 3 minutes. No joke. I never yearned for a full zip or cinch cords for my hood. Even when I woke up with the chills on Haystack, I put this bad boy on and drifted back to the sandman. Awesome puffy. Purchased on Japanese site. (7.36 oz)
Montbell Ex-Light Wind Jacket: EASILY THE MVP OF THE TRIP. I woke up to temperatures in the high 30s to high 40s. I broke camp quickly and wore this over my sun hoody up until maybe 8AM. I wore it to bed to protect my quilt from body oils. This thing went above and beyond the call of duty, and I have joined the wind jacket cult. As a hood guy, I was hesitant to try no hood on this thing, but I never missed it. (1.76 oz)
Nitecore Tube: The runner up to the MVP. How is a $10 flashlight so damn lightweight and flexible in uses? I attached a binder clip to it so I could wear it on my baseball cap for trail use. It can go from 1 to 45 lumens which I found plenty for trail use and camp. I never had to recharge it while on the trail. I even tried but it was fully charged in around five minutes on the third night. No red light is the only reason it’s the runner up. (0.32oz)
Casio Pro Trek PRW-2500R-1CR: a solar powered ABC watch that was quite effective out in the field. It doesn’t take readings based on GPS so it was a little inaccurate on altitude and temperature sometimes, but never too much. For example, there would sometimes be a difference of 100 ft between the readings on All Trails, and the readings on my Casio.
Cascade Mountain Tech Aluminum Compact Folding Collapsible Trekking Poles with Cork Grip: HARD FAIL. Not one, but BOTH broke during the second day of use. Not during a freak accident, but during two separate occasions. I had to constantly repair them with duct tape and leuko tape. I heard great things about the company, but I was very disappointed. So now I have to replace my trekking poles AGAIN. Plus, I’d like to get flip lock poles since it would make adjusting my tarp easier. Any ideas?
All Trail GPS: I’m gonna give the app another chance and chalk up my experiences with navigation on the trail to human error. Both on me and the individuals who plotted the trials on the app. It has cool features like being able to download various types of maps, and keeping track of elevations and grades of steepness.

what to do leadville co video

The most popular things to do in Leadville with kids according to Tripadvisor travelers are: Ski Cooper; National Mining Hall of Fame & Museum; Leadville, Colorado & Southern Railroad; Twin Lakes; Top of the Rockies Ziplines; See all kid friendly things to do in Leadville on Tripadvisor $ Tennessee Pass Nordic Center in Leadville, Colorado. There are literally hundreds of places to get out on snowshoes and skis in Leadville, but the Tennessee Pass Nordic Center is ideal and has rental equipment, not to mention freshly-made pies and coffee. Located in the same parking lot as Ski Cooper, it’s the perfect place to visit if one part of your group wants to downhill and another wants to cross-country, snowshoe, fat bike or tube. The most popular things to do in Leadville with kids according to Tripadvisor travellers are: Ski Cooper; National Mining Hall of Fame & Museum; Leadville, Colorado & Southern Railroad; Twin Lakes; Top of the Rockies Ziplines; See all kid friendly things to do in Leadville on Tripadvisor $ Just 20 miles from the town of Leadville at the base of Independence Pass is the historic Twin Lakes area, where you’ll find world-class fishing and some of Colorado's most spectacular lake and mountain scenery. Twin Lakes is close to the trailhead to Mount Elbert and the renowned Interlaken Hotel historical site. Feb 8, 2021 | Leadville News Janet Stoddard has worked and volunteered for decades with abused children, special-needs kids, struggling readers and families seeking housing, but her newest interest is the first to require putting on a chef’s hat and adopting the title of “lasagna mama.”“The... Leadville Tourism: Tripadvisor has 10,842 reviews of Leadville Hotels, Attractions, and Restaurants making it your best Leadville resource. 232 CR 29 (POB 896), Leadville, CO 80461, Phone: 800-707-61140. You are reading "25 Best Things to Do in Leadville, Colorado" Back to Top. Things to do near me today, beaches with kids, romantic parks, unique places to visit in USA right now, hotels, tourist attractions: Sarasota, From Boston, OR, NC, From Houston, NJ, GA For many visitors, it happens at Leadville. Leadville may not be as popular as other cities in United States, but don’t let that fool you. Leadville is a smaller but beautiful upcoming tourist destination that is worth a visit. You will be surprised by some of the unique things to do and places you can explore at this hidden destination. Ski Cooper, the Leadville, Colorado & Southern Railroad and hiking Mt. Elbert are just a few things to do in Leadville and Twin Lakes Colorado. Read on for nine reasons to make a trip to Lake County, located about 100 miles from Denver in the heart of the Rocky Mountains. Leadville, Colorado, a small mountain mining town, that sits at 10,200 feet elevation and has managed to maintain its unique character throughout the years. There's something for everyone in this tiny but mighty town. Here are some ideas of what to do when visiting Leadville, Colorado.

what to do leadville co top

BDR Gypsum to Leadville, CO. Group. #49

Colorado 91, 15 Nov 19 About Press Copyright Contact us Creators Advertise Developers Terms Privacy Policy & Safety How YouTube works Test new features Press Copyright Contact us Creators ... Like Drivelapse? Friend it: http://www.facebook.com/takemytripdotcomThis drive begins in Silverthorne, and briefly follows Interstate 70, then CO 91, and US ... Ryan and I took a trip from Austin to CO to get our Avy1 certification. Instead of just doing the certification at a resort, we decided to step up our backco... we were supposed to land in Leadville, CO, but ended up in Buena Vista thanks to our genius navigator (Anirudh). Snow Artist Simon Beck was in Leadville, Colorado, USA and created this snow drawing on January 17 & 18, 2020 at the Lake County Community Park. Sponsored by... Tammy catches 16" trout on fly rod in Leadville CO on 6/12/2011 Twenty years since I've been on cross-country skis...will I survive? We went back to the Mt Massive Gold Course and Nordic Ski Center in Leadville, CO for a ... A Sample of our Snowmobiling Tour in the beautiful Rocky Mountains of Colorado! Join Staffan and I as we zip around on snowmobiles up to an altitude of 12,5... Not the typical B Roll. We took many different trails to do a section of the Backcountry Discovery Route from Gypsum to Leadville. This involved a trail called Powerline Road and we ended up on ...

Leadville Vacations, Activities & Things To Do | Colorado.com

what to do leadville co

what to do leadville co - win

My 3 brothers and I are driving from KC to Leadville, CO for a family vacation early October, playing notable stops along the way. What courses do we need to play?

Anyone actually experienced a haunted house? Leadville, CO

Silver Ore in Co.

Austin Texas & Mountain Biking.

Colorado breweries we've visited in the rest of the state: 2020 update