Lost n' Found

"Yeah, I used to climb a lot."
"I just haven't had a lot of time recently."
"I've been trail running a lot lately."

I'm sitting here trying to pull out a post about the beginning of my return to climbing. The problem is, it began a few months ago and the fog of time is too thick for how I want to express it. I'd love to be able to reach back and talk all about the process of return. Guide you along that happy trail. All I can muster up for your eyes though today is a scattering of imagery, like a box of puzzle pieces dumped onto the table. Some of them are connected from the previous attempt and seem to make some sense. Other pieces will just be...well...that, pieces. A single thought, a single image, expressing a speck that somehow will hopefully make sense in the whole scheme of things.

All in all, none of that really matters I'm sure. The few eyes that will see this spattering of thoughts will likely stop reading right about now. Maybe, with a little push of actual effort by me, this will catch a few brains though and if not, then this is therapy in the first place anyhow.

THE LOST

To say that my climbing had been lost is actually a terrible term. When you lose something, it is not a purposeful event. You do not put your key under the porch and say to yourself, "Nice, that will now be gone from my mind forever, just as I planned." I'm sure there are psychologists that could talk about self-sabotage and that many relationships are actually sub-consciously doomed by their actual loser, but I think my point has been created. So, saying that I had "lost" my climbing life may need to be rearranged a bit. I think that it is more likely explained just as I would explain what I did with the actual gear itself. Piece by piece, the cams,
rope,
biners                                       harness,
         belay device,
cordalette                       nuts                             dogbones,
              slings
these were all placed into two Rubbermaid bins, dropped off into the gear room, told "I'll see ya in a week or so", and then left to a clock that for some reason just seemed to keep on spinning.
Instead of being lost, my climbing was placed on layaway. Ha! Layaway. I'm imaging handing over those red topped Rubbermaids to a K-Mart desk lady, black short hair and an indifferent smirk on her face, and giving her a wink. She nods back and slides it across the floor, bumping it into somebodies online class, another persons knitting set and some teenager's recently forgotten muscle car project. I'll be back for it soon, I'm sure of it.

It sat in that layaway for way more time than I thought it ever would. There was actually an entire year that went by where I only borrowed back that container twice! Once was a decent outing with about 4-5 routes climbed with great friends and a classic hound dog. The other, however, shouldn't even freakin count. I basically took my gear for a hike up into the surrounding red rock canyons of Sedona. Getting to the base of the climb, I racked up...got ridiculously off-kiltered on the first contact of shoe rubber to rock, finished only the first pitch, and moseyed back on down to the truck. Great experience with a great friend, but hardly a coin into the bank of actual Climbing.

So for two years, the number of climbing excursions could be counted on one hand. Hell, I probably wouldn't even include the thumb on that hand either. For those future readers who don't know me and wouldn't instantly guess why this occurred 2 years ago, well; The creation of Dark Sky Brewing Company began 2 years ago. Not necessarily the thought processes and research, but the construction and real gloves on work. Some people have to shelve pieces of their life because of having kids. My newborn "kid" had stainless steel diapers and puked up sugar-water/yeast slurrys instead of baby food. My late nights were not created by little walkie-talkie monitor screeches or scheduled feedings, but instead by lugging around newly kegs and worrying about doors left unlocked and leaking fermenter valves. It quite obviously has been a labor of love and continues to be well worth the effort to see smiles across the taproom and hear peoples love of the beer, but, it none the less pulled the parking break on the tendons of my hands...so to speak.

THE FOUND

I am now sitting on my couch on Christmas Eve, watching my pups wrestle outside in the snow as a storm roll in. Here and now, I have this great and smile inducing feeling once again. The lost feeling that I have now found, nay rediscovered, is that I am yearning once again.

Yearning to keep shaking the cold from my legs on the third belay ledge
Yearning to give a pound while being lowered off limestone bolts
Yearning to have sore shoulders from hauling gear up to a Spire
Yearning to sit above an overlook and eat a tuna fish sandwich
Yearning to work a problem in a warm chalky gym
Yearning to scratch the back of my hands up
Yearning to lay exhausted on a crash pad
Yearning to rattle the bag while on a rest
Yearning to hear the clink of big cams
Yearning to go get my fingers sore
Yearning to knock on sandstone
Yearning to find terrible feet
Yearning to reach an anchor
Yearning to leave an anchor
Yearning to find good feet
Yearning to grab holds
Yearning to "Yaaat!"
Yearning to throw

So cheers. Cheers to more years of finding the joy that only the Climbing Life can bring me. It has been an interesting reintroduction so far...in a good way. In a great way. I find myself happier on the rock. More satisfied with performances and okay with defeats. An old traddie heart but now happy and comfortable even among the grunting gym rats. I AM an old climber, and in that I mean that I have experience enough to know exactly what climbing is to me.


~N

Fun and Sleep Deprivation at Locust Point

You know that thing that you used to do on those extra tired days back in school? That thing where you would be violently jerked back to the land of the living after slowly drifting off to La-La land? Usually this would be followed by a slow wipe across your mouth and darting eyes to check if anyone just saw your tell tell sign of exhaustion. Well, sunken deep into the camp chair, 2:45am emitting from my watch, I experienced this once again at the Locust Point Aid Station during the Grand Canyon Ultras event.

I have always heard that once you get into trail races (or preferably before your first actual ultra) you should volunteer as an aid station worker. This gives you a first hand account of exactly what you will be going through. You will see those that are in the middle of a hyper "up" and those who seem like they just got out of a bar-room brawl after being locked in solitary for a year. And if you have participated in an ultra race, it is also a way to give back to the community that held you on their gel laden, broth brewing backs!

So, which race would be my aid station debut? I was pretty much fresh off of my first ultra, Mesquite Canyon 50K (...still have yet to do that blog post, sorry). Looking through ultrasignup for my next race, I came across the Bryce Canyon race that is put on by Ultra Adventures. I have yet to visit Bryce and what better way to do so then a nice 31 mile jaunt around the Park? While I looked deeper into the race I noticed that they were also putting on their first Grand Canyon event. Now, me and the wife are pretty much addicted to The Canyon and since I was interested in the Bryce, well, let's make this the one. A weekend on the North Rim while helping runners achieve a bucket list event? Heeeeeell ya!

The race was held on the Rainbow Rim Trail. If any of you are mountain bikers in Northern AZ, or Southern Utah, you probably know this rim runner. It traverses from lookout point to look out point along a single-track that is actually on National Forest land. A thing of beauty and I'm sure a nugget of pride for race director Matt Gunn. This event is actually called Grand Canyon Ultras, plural, as in 50K, 50 mile and 100 mile. The 50 K and 50 mile are a single loop course, with a little out and back to a place called Monument Point (sick huh?). The 100 mile is a double loop and being so, some got to see the Canyon at both Sunset and Sunrise light. Me, Amanda, and Pongo were to be placed at the Locust Point Aid station at mile 25 and 75 and at the end of a finger between Locust and Timp Canyon (sick again!).

We decided that we would make a weekend of it and took off right after work on Friday. Good thing we did, as it was quite the miles on dirt forest roads to get out there. Isolation...check! Peace...check! Beautiful high desert forest...check! We pulled up to the point and pulled into our sleeping bag with the moon just beginning to blare down at us. Waking up to the dry 8000 ft air, we got the coffee percolating and scouted out the best placement for our future station. Rick came cruisin into the point loaded to the brim with our supplies just around 8:00am and got us newbies all set up (Rick, you rock man!). As this was our first ultra aid setup, we looked anxiously over the materials. Shade tent, double burner, two 5 gallon tuns, utensils, pancake mix, coffee, Nutella, soda, blah, more blah, and even more blah! Holy cow, this is a kush set-up. We got everything ready and awaited our first runner

We didn't have to wait very long. The first place 100 miler came knocking at our door (mile 24.5) before 10:00. He was sporting a  mustache that reminded me too much of the Lorax. Awesome! I wish I had paid more attention to what he grabbed but I was too busy proudly filling his bottles and writing down his bib and time. Before we knew it, he was out again. Aww,crap, forgot to ring the cowbell. Bummer.

Runner after runner came in through the day and the thermometer just seemed to keep on elevating. Salt started increasing in want and ice increased in need. We saw so many different clothing strategies and one of the coolest things we got from the runners were the various hydration systems. Vests were a must and there were some new little 20 oz bladder things in place of hard plastic bottles. Some wanted the chair ("beware the chair") while some just grabbed and blasted back off. The day cruised on and more stories, suggestions and needs continued pouring through. Eventually, the majority of 100's and 50's had passed through and the sun began to make its drop behind the cliffs.

The night aid station atmosphere starts off uniquely inspiring but slowly creeps into a world of sit, wait, heat water. Sit, wait, heat water. By 11:30, I told Amanda that she should go get some sleep. The runners at this point were far between and I could handle all the quesadilla needs that they might have. Then came the post 1:00am station. There was just enough of a lull in runners (say, 30 minutes to an hour and a half) that the infamous head bob began. Then, I would catch the glimpse of a headlamp bobbing along. Jump up, turn knob, light burner, ring cowbell, pour noodles, ask for needs, encourage zombies, fall back into chair...repeat.

By the time 6am came along I was quite delirious but full of new ideas, information, and experiences that I was anxious to process during a well earned Sunday sleep. Aid station volunteering for ultras, I feel, is a must. You will learn much about the long run, experience so many different attitudes and appreciate the tireless volunteers that help you achieve some of your most memorable life goals. I believe that this will make my Bryce Canyon run that much more special as I pull from this smile inducing experience.

==Props to Matt, Rick and the Ultra Adventures crew! They put on a great race that pushed most to their very limits and gave some their first taste of the greatest Wonder of the World.==

SP Crater Marathon, or, A Few Firsts

Remember Nick, this is just a training run. When that horn is blown, find your rhythm, relax and do NOT follow the pack! At the beginning of most races, I tend to get a little too psyched up. This leads me to gun out of the start with a huge smile on my face but also a huge deficit of energy in my legs. As I looked out toward the beautifully sculpted SP Crater on the horizon, I needed this time to be different.

This would be the first time I have experienced running consistently for over 20 miles and I was considering it a last effort long run before the Mesquite Canyon 50K on the 22nd. I had my pace in mind and planned on not caring where I placed after it was all said and done. And, if you know me at all, that is hard to do! The competitiveness that has been bred into me needs to be tamed occasionally and I think that age and wisdom (and a dose of humility living here in Flagstaff) have tempered some of that drive.

Rewind: I started the morning not quite knowing what to plan for. What would the weather be like? I heard that there might be 20 mph winds! Which shoes am I gonna want? I don't know the style of the forest road yet. Do I have the right nutrition? I think I have the aid station miles memorized. I grabbed everything extra for just in cases and headed out the door.

The drive through town provided an absolutely stellar sunrise. A blast of color and clouds that had me staring dangerously long. I threw on a running podcast for some last minute inspiration and drove the 20 some odd miles out of the pines and into the vast open high desert grasslands. Seeing the bright green sign on a box in the distance I found my turn and immediately experienced what was soon to come. "Crap, -thud - thud - thud - I hope these washboards -thud - thud - thud - aren't on the road WE will be running". I careened through them and parked along the road, getting my first glimpse of the North side of the Peaks. I had my back to them during the drive and now had a view of what else was to come...the wind!

Dome shaped clouds covering the San Francisco peaks are a tell-tell sign that the days winds' are on their way and I took heed by throwing on a pair of sunglasses and a long sleeve. I also observed the condition of the forest road course and decided that there was going to be a really good chance that one of the gravel cinders would get excited, take a leap at my ankles, and snuggle up cozily between my sock and my shoes. Crap, I still haven't picked up any gaiters. So I rummaged through my truck and grabbed the socks that I had previously cut to become my arm sleeves for runs (see: cheap Scottish heritage). Hmmm, these might just work as some homemade gaiters... worth a try! I put them in place, secured them to my shoelace with a safety pin, and then looked around for anyone to see my awesome new gear! I was, and am still proud of this MacGyver moment because they did not budge the entire race!

A few quick pictures, one more port-o-potty visit, and we were toeing the line. All 10 of us. Wait, 10? I thought there were 11. Does this mean I am guaranteed a top ten finish in my first marathon? Hell ya!
Ian Torrence: "He's here, he's checked in, and he's not worried"
Me: "Guarantee gone"

Ian Torrence/Emily Harrison

Ludo blew the horn and 10 seconds later, I knew I was going to be running this alone. Flagstaff always amazes me with its prowess of athletes. This made it oh so easy to relax my pace and watch these crazy Flagstafarians cruise away through the wide open grasses toward the cinder cones. As I got into my groove, I occasionally looked back to see if and when I would have company from the late runner, but I couldn't keep my eyes off the road for very long or one of these washboards was gonna reach up, smack my toe, and send me into an unplanned for somersault. It was quite the little video game trying to hop left and dart right, finding the little spaces of flat ground. Not long after I passed a tall cylinder water tank with the words "BEER CAN" painted on it, I heard the footsteps.

"Mornin'"... "Mornin'". He found a pace right with me and I was surprised not to have him just keep on crusin'. Most of my long runs are solo so this next hour or so was a great experience. Meeting fellow runners and being able to share experiences on the trail is refreshing and something that I will remember most about this run. Chris was from San Antonio but working for several weeks at Grand Canyon. His first question to me was, "Do you know anything about the geology of this area?". Oh do I.

WARNING: Science teacher geek out opportunity:

Being an Earth Science teacher in town, each year we spend at least a couple of days talking about the San Francisco Volcanic Field. This year, I opened the volcanism unit with a picture of SP Crater and explained to the students how I was going to run around it in a few weeks. SP is really a great example of one of the coolest things to happen with a cinder cone volcano. With its' high gas content, it will spray little globs of lava into the air much like a Mentos/soda experience. This forms the beautiful symmetrical cone but what can, and did, happen after makes for some great features. After the volcano loses its' fizz, it might still have some magma left to contribute to the surface of the planet. If so, a flow of lava will find its way out of, not the top, but the bottom of the cone. Crazy! It kinda oozes out of a weakness at the bottom of the cone and flows where topography demands. This happened at this particular spot in a beautifully dramatic way. As you look from the air at SP, you see the solidified flow moving North from the cone. This view gives you a great visual of why this particular crater was aptly named Sh*t Pot crater. haha, awesome! This race brought us right through this chunky basaltic story and you couldn't wipe the smile off my face as I jogged into and out of the Earths' molten innards.

NASA.gov

After a few miles and great conversation, I told Chris that I would be slowing my pace a bit and he could take off if he wanted to. So he did, and I was left to my endurance training pace once again and that weird 11th place finishing number.


The rest of the race I was treated to massive lava pile-ups, cows giving bewildered looks from the distance, strong wind tunnels trying to toss my visor and me, into the distance, a herd of sheep traversing a fence line, several Pinacate beetles scuttling across the road and expansive views in every direction.

Photo: Amanda Manville

Near mile 20 I came upon where the half-marathon joined and noticed two people coming in from the right. They were about 100 yards in front of me, halfers, tall, and what appeared to be walking. I thought to myself, I'll catch these guys pretty quickly and say hello. Cut scene to 30 minutes later... I still hadn't caught them and they appeared to still be walking. Is this one of those hallucinatory experiences people speak of on the trail? I don't think so, I've only gone 21 miles. These guys gave me quite the rabbit to catch! As I finally came upon them I noticed that they were some of the fastest "walkers" I had ever seen...and I told them that causing them to laugh and tell me that they were purposefully giving me a target to hit. Hilarious! That was one of the most memorable parts of the race as well. Thanks guys (forgot the names).

At this point, my body was getting pretty spent and I could see the Start/Finish line. Unfortunately, after you reach the "finish line", the full distance still needs to do a last 5K loop. So I tried my hardest to tell my body this was NOT the end and don't start shutting down yet. The visualization of a finish, with the tent, spectators and food, tends to make the legs start to slow down. But as I approached a big smile smacked itself onto my face when I saw my very own cheering section; my wife and my dog! They were a few yards from the end and I stopped for a quick hello. Pongo was wearing a t-shirt that said TEAM NICK and it helped me push a little more gas into my legs for the final loop.

Photo: Amanda Manville

Crossing the line, Mark yelled "way to go Nick" thinking I was done when I still had 3.1 miles to go. I laughed as I pasted and he said "oh, he still has a 5K left?" I did but I felt good and wanted to calmly finish these last miles. But then... I saw it! The neon green shirt of Chris was in the somewhat near distance. Could I catch up with him and have a 10th place tie finish? I think I actually could! I picked up the pace, fighting a little groin cramp after hurdling a rock (don't hurdle a rock at mile 24.5!). Yep, I'm definitely gonna catch...wait...shoot, it's not him. It was a halfer with the same color top on. OK, slow down, no keep going. Finish strong. Teach your body to finish strong. I cruised into the finish area at 5:08:52 and just before crossing I yelled,"D...F...L..." and jump/stomped the finish chalk.

Photo: Amanda Manville

My first Marathon race completed and I couldn't be happier. I did exactly what I wanted to do; keep my endurance pace, get the miles, and HAVE A BLAST! After a few pretzels and a couple of swigs from the keg, I thanked Ian and Ludo for a great race and headed off to Lumberyard for a mac n' cheese/bacon/sriracha sandwich...drool.


**BIG THANKS TO THE VOLUNTEERS THAT ALLOWED ME TO FINISH THIS GOAL**

For a quick little race report see the podcast I am trying to put together here: Elevated Trail

Podcast test pt II

Podcast test

Stagecoach 100 Relay - A Day/Night/Day to remember

"Too many trees!" It is very seldom that I find myself complaining about the presence of trees. They are inspiring organisms that have given me places to play, air to breath, food to eat, shade to rest and homes to creatures I adore. They are vital to our global climate and imperative to most soils. They are even a future adornment to my body in the form of tattoo. But right now, there are just too many damn trees!

I am in the middle of my 13 mile relay leg of the new ultra-marathon race, officially called the "Flagstaff to Grand Canyon 100 Mile Stagecoach Line Ultra & Relay". You can't wipe the smile off of my face but the reason that I would willingly cast away these looming Junipers, if only for a while, is that somewhere out there in the sky just behind my right shoulder is a giant gorgeous high desert full moon. Oddly enough, this is coming from a guy who loves and respects the hell out of the juniperus genus.

Juniperus osteosperma

Their stubbornness to survive on the most crumbling of erosive cliff faces. Their bounty of food, fiber and materials that sustained the hardy indigenous peoples of the Southwest. The shade and talking points that they give me as I lead my group tour of foreign visitors along the South Kaibab trail. Their "no way I'm growing in a straight line" attitude that always seems to frustrate me when an axe is above my head. And the warmth I feel and smell each Flagstaff winter night as the wood stove crackles and radiates the remaining embers from their bark. Yep, the Juniper has a place in my heart, but for now they are merely casting stubborn shadows along my path.

 I'm not sure what is it about me that seems to draw in night runs but here I am again, running along a dirt path, headlamp bobbing along and my mind trying not to remember the large variations of carnivores out here. To say I am alone on this section is an understatement. From the time that the snap bracelet hit my wrist, there has not been a single peep in the woods, light on the horizon or voice in the distance. In fact, there will not be a soul to count until I make it to the Moqui aid station...and none after till the next exchange. I am not sure if this adds to the experience but at least it is something that I am used to. I am experienced in running alone in the dark in everything from the Ragnar relay in the middle of Sonoran desert nowhere to 13 mile Grand Canyon loops. So... I am happy.

GC at night

This is the race's inaugural year and I have no doubts that success will soon be this events pacer. Ian Torrence has taken on this long time goal and put together a course that not only has beauty in it's physical surroundings but an aura of AZ history that intrigues runners both before and after the event. It follows a section of the Arizona Trail from just Northwest of the city of Flagstaff to the Grand Canyon Park entrance town of Tusayan. This route is nothing new though. It is at the same time the path chosen for the brave tourists that dawned stagecoaches on a bumpy, usually multi-day, romp from Flag to The Canyon. Although I am on just a 13 mile piece of the path, 26 brave Ultra-maniacs had the entire course to finish (of which I believe 17 actually did in the 30 hour time frame).

Relay Teams Getting Set!

Eventually I finished my leg with a smile on my face and dreams already of next year. My teammate David was off like a bolt and I hobbled into a truck and drove around to the finish where I passed out in said truck for a couple hours of sleep. I was awoken by the last of our team, Charlie, who had just finished (can't believe I missed it) and we had won the men's relay division! Although like Neil said, "We only had ourselves to beat". None the less, we celebrated our victory and celebrated runners as they came across the line. It was a great race, a beautiful run and an experience that injected me with a little bit of Ultra fever.

The Author Getting A Fan Shot With Ian Torrence

** A HUGE thank you to all of the 100 braver than the runners volunteers for enduring their own ultra challenge of below freezing temperatures! Your night was many factors harder than mine and you made the event a complete enjoyment and success.

* Thanks to Kristin Wilson for the great pictures         

Petzl NAO Headtorch Run

Crisp, Fresh, Stinging. Winter is here in the High Desert and the words needed to describe the air have transitioned beautifully. You can feel the peaks waiting in earnest for their white, fluffy blanket to arrive. They were teased in early October with a dusting but now well into November, that big humid air mass of the future is receiving mental call after mental call from a good number of the people in our town. With this arrival of winter comes the continual chopping away of minute by minute. Maybe not so much of a chopping away as a transformation from a day minute to a night. That gentle leaning of our planet now gives me a new challenge. One that I am actually perceiving to possibly be the most interesting and enjoyable of my time out on the trails. I will now be pushing my runs far through the disappearance of the sun!

Sunset over Kendrick 

 Now, I have always been quite the collector of headlamps. My time climbing out on the multi-pitch cliffs of the West, usually produce the need to carry one deep in my pack. My yearning for full moon excursions into The Canyon, whether on a Rim-to-Rim or marathon distance loop hike, necessitate not one, but two headlamps on occasion. Anyone who knows summer in The Canyon knows that "sunset starts" are the most comfortable of options and a good headlamp is not only nice but vital.

Grand Canyon night fun!

Enter, night trail running. As I have become more and more hooked on my Ultra goal, I have been seeking (and finding) inspiration through Podcasts. They give me ideas, tips, and stories to use throughout my runs. One of the tips that constantly comes through is the recommendation of the Petzl NAO headlamp. What? Are you serious? $175 for a headlamp! That's insane to a budget watching, gear mongering, school teacher like me. But wait! What's this? An old gift card from Bass Pro Shops? I already have 3 kayak/boats; I am set with my fishing gear; I have yet to be drawn for an elk tag. Ooooh, headlamps! OOOOOHHH, the Petzl! This dropped the unreachable 100 to an...eh... "affordable" 75 bucks. Click, click... sold.

Sometimes UPS tracking #'s can be fun, sometimes they are a curse. It seemed to take forever to slug across the country (man, how spoiled are we these days?). Eventually, that little brown box was waiting for me at the front door. Open...cut...pull...unfold...scan...plug...click...smile. Wait, plug and click?  The NAO comes with the ability to program different activities right into the product. Complete customization! Because the NAO has a sensor that receives light and adjusts the output accordingly, you will no longer get blinded when looking down at your guidebook or map. I have also found that it is nice when I look up to the side of the trail to check out a peculiar shape. The torch will sense the darkness that it is pointed towards and beam a 300 lumen spotlight at, what turns out to be, a large stump. How sick is that? I now have a program for my backpacking, one for Grand Canyon and one that I am currently tweaking for trail running. Don't worry if you don't want to mess with it too much or at all. I found that 2 of the pre-programmed options are actually really good for just about everything.

Slightly Excited

So, this past Tuesday evening was my 4 mile run and the way things were looking, I better take torch. I cruised through the run at aerobic pace, but somehow still made it back to my driveway with no need of external illumination. The next evening I came home from work and had my 6 miler on the schedule. This time I almost spaced the torch, having to turn around mid driveway and retrieve it from the counter. I set off knowing this was sure to be the first of many experiences with my new friend...partner...coach...& tool. Its performance was great (once I got used to the different modes and how to find them). The weight was surprisingly light for a rear battery headtorch too. All in all, I love the tech, I like the feel, and I can't wait to turn to my running partner and NOT blind them off the edge of the Canyon!



Peace