Bikepacking 101 and Bears

“Oh, going on an adventure?” The REI cashier asked me as I handed him my bear spray. “Yeah, it’s called moving here.” I responded.

When I was in the process of moving I thought about bears and moose encounters but they seemed so far away (literally, more than 3,000 miles), but upon arriving here, I quickly realized that it’s real life and I’m playing the game for keeps. The first few days in Anchorage I didn’t really venture out, I mostly moved my things in and spent time in the garage painting furniture where my chance encounter with a bear was relatively low.

I also realized that I can’t stay in the garage this entire year smelling paint fumes. I saw a flier for a bikepacking course, including an overnight trip by Alaska Bike Adventure. Perfect, baptism by fire in bear country. I figured it would serve two purposes I would likely meet cool people who like to ride far on their bikes and it would introduce me to bikepacking in a way that was structured and comfortable to figure out if it’s something I’d want to further pursue (like when I sell my car and ride my bike home). I always felt like it was similar to alpine touring where it’s something I was interested in but not enough to want to spend money on it first to find out.

I’ve loosely thought about bikepacking. After I did White Rim, Sully got me some bags for Christmas, a seat bag and a top tube bag– apparently when you get off the trail at 1:30am with minimum headlights it warrants the discussion of setting up camp or to keep going. I’ve used the top tube bag for a few races but never the seatbag, because that would mean I’d have to camp. It’s not that I’m adverse to camping, I don’t really mind it but have never slept in a tent by myself, I don’t even own one. If I’m with someone else I’ll sleep in their tent or if I’m by myself I’ll sleep in my car, this is usually a safety thing and it’s definitely limiting in terms of how far you can explore without having to turn back for single day solo-trips.

Had to say goodbye to Tenzen

The bikepacking course was modeled after a NOLS course, we had 4 hours of instruction and then a 24 hour trip. I showed up for the first course and found out I was the only one who signed up– 2 guides for 1 Kate is a great ratio. We chatted for a bit at the start and they talked about the races and tours that they’ve done and I immediately recognized that I was going to be in very good hands. The first course we went over gear for the bike, looking at the design and application. From the function and weight of the gear it was apparent that the gear for the bike was racer/rider designed. We talked about what gear of my own to bring. They humored me by answering my most remedial questions from lycra vs. baggies to all things bears (like how close to the tent to pee is too close?).

The next course was me pulling out my bin full of gear and asking about this versus that option but at the end felt confident with my gear choices. The morning of I packed up my camelbak with my snacks, gloves, book, and light rain jacket and put my riding gear in the car. I met them at the trail head about an hour north of Anchorage. Being in the parking lot assuaged my fears a bit as kids were pouring out of cars–surely parents would not be sacrificing all of them to bears so figured the risk must be pretty low. We loaded up our bikes and split some more group gear and took off.

Here we go

The trail was mostly flat but I appreciated that when getting used to the gear being on my bike. I found that the front end actually felt more stable with the loaded weight. We rode about 10 miles out. We pulled off to a campsite and then rode through some trees to arrive at a gravel bar that was on the opposite end of the lake from where we started.

We scoured for a position to place our tents that would offer some shield from the wind and then they explained the bear triangle to me. Basically you position your cooking station and your food storage at the bottom end of the triangle with the tents as the third prong, all dependent on wind position. We unloaded our gear and set our tents up –I tried to played it cool, like I knew what I was actually doing when I in fact had no real idea because Sully usually set the tent up, but they even helped me with that.

We took our bikes and explored the trail a bit more until it dead ended at a public cabin that you can reserve (remembering that for later). Then we turned around and headed back to the campsite to cook dinner. First they showed me how to filter water (beyond just dumping iodine tablets in) and we got 10 liters of fresh glacial stream. Then we made tacos for dinner and chatted for a while because it had started raining and it seemed like 7pm was maybe a little too early to go to bed. Like I said they have a well of knowledge when it comes to long distance riding and racing, so we talked about everything from the race scene in Alaska to training to other races and routes to explore. They were maybe the perfect people to spend my first weekend in Alaska with.

We finally headed off to bed but tied our food up first. I stayed up and read for a bit, mostly to distract me from any thoughts about what my body would look like if I got mauled (do not google images that). The rain and wind had settled in which also provided enough of a white noise to cover any noises I might have been startled by. After the sun set, I soon realized I had to pee but I didn’t want to have to get up and go pee just in case there was a bear (plus it was raining). I spent time convincing myself I did not have to pee until I fell asleep for a bit but then woke up to the realization I still had to pee. I still wasn’t sure how close was too close to pee to the tent but didn’t want to go far so I came up with a plan; I would pee right next to the tent but then dump my extra water on top just to help neutralize the odor quicker. I moved quickly, kept my head down, and my bear spray close. I then dump all my water out but lost my pillow because I had been using my water bladder as a headrest– but worth it if I didn’t end up with a grizzly sitting on my body, right? After that I finally fell into a deep sleep.

The next morning we cooked an egg and hash brown scramble, and drank copious amounts of coffee while taking in the morning fog rolling out of the mountain valley.

We packed up our gear, I was grateful that the wind had pushed the rainstorm through in the night so I didn’t have to have most of the gear end up soggy in the stuff sacks. We headed back on the same trail but I swear it was more amazing heading back.

The mesmerism of the landscape tugged at me and on that trail I realized how easy it is for people to stay here [the tables might turn come December and no daylight].

We got to the end and unloaded our packs to divvy things up. I returned the bags but keep a new found sense of ‘hey, I just might be able to do this’. It wasn’t nearly as daunting as I had envisioned and like the idea of exploring multi-day routes. Still need to figure out the whole potentially sleeping outside by myself thing but baby steps. Through talking with the guides I’ve found that the community in Anchorage of endurance athletes runs deep, I gather it’s from the magnetism of the landscape that draws people to want to explore but with limited access (limited roads, trails) they pursue activities that give them that ability. I even left contemplating returning to Colorado next year to take on the Colorado Trail Race and see what I’m really made of beyond a single day event.

I told the guides that if any of my friends who ride come and visit I would probably just have them guide us on a trip like this (so now you’ll know what we’ll be doing when you visit and you can pack accordingly).

We also didn’t see any bears on the trip, which is good and bad. It feels like the early spring days when you start to venture outside and at some point you know you’re finally going to run into the first snake of the season. It’d be nice to just get it over with running into a bear or moose on the trail and being like see I survived, I can do this…unless I didn’t survive… which would a real bummer. I think I struggle with the wildlife because in our ever increasing controlled and manicured lives, they serve as a blunt reminder of how unpredictable and uncontrollable mother nature is. There are definitely things that I can control (like bear spray, proper food storage, bear bells) but in the end it can come down to simply bad timing. But then I remind myself that I’m much more likely to be attacked by some guy up here than any wildlife (Alaska is the #1 state for violence against women, South Dakota is #2). So maybe I’ll just carry bear spray on me at all times…

Some of it is just giving myself time to get comfortable in this space, I keep reminding myself I’ve learned to live with running into rattlesnakes, buffalo, mountain lions, getting caught in lightning storms, and reminding myself that it’s okay to be afraid and do it anyways.

Nature is pretty neat.
Plus views like this certainly help

I do start work this week so that will in all likelihood limit my penchant for merrymaking. My cyclocross bike did just arrive though so planning on racing this weekend (race my way into shape, heyo!).

If you’re interested in checking out the gear I used it was from Revelate Designs. I would definitely recommend if you’re in the market for bike gear. If you want to visit Alaska and plan your own bike adventure I can’t speak highly enough of Grande and Dusty at Alaska Bike Adventures!

Into the Wild

Into the Wild starts with Chris McCandless selling his car, donating all his money to charity, voiding himself of almost all of his possessions, and setting course on a 3,000+ hitch hiking journey to Alaska. There he takes proprietorship an old yellow school bus and begins his journey into solitude and nature. It’s poetic, appealing, and shocking (spoiler alert!) when after eating wild onions he dies. I read the book once and watched the move once but with my interpretations I take issue with him forsaking society for adventure that for him meant isolation. It seems selfish, unreasonable, and the epitome of privilege to be able to be in a position to even begin his journey. I think there are better ways to show your disdain towards society (like taking an active role to change the problems you have with it) than removing yourself from it. While the premise seems to be that he’s attempting to find true happiness through solitude and nature instead of society; I don’t think you have to completely abandon either to find happiness (obvious a very subjective standard and think McCandless might agree with me on this now). Further, I believe there are ways to be a productive member of society without limiting yourself to a cog in the capitalistic machine. Have I lost you already? Perfect.

We both have ties to South Dakota

I’ve spent a lot of time the past few months thinking about his story. As the approach to graduation accelerated, would my entrance into society result in a cog or contributor or both? Results still pending. Mostly, I spent time thinking about it because I accepted a fellowship in Alaska and hope to embark on my own adventure both professionally and personally. But unlike McCandless I had to buy a new car to get there and in all likelihood will also get a Costco Membership; but maybe like him it’s selfish, unreasonable, and the epitome of privilege to be in a position to begin this journey.

Probably trying to convince them I really will be a ‘different kind of lawyer’

My fellowship is at a health center in Anchorage, on the same campus where my dad was born. Given my area of interest and focus during law school it was an ideal match up. My family is still warming up to the idea. I think it’s a hard adjustment for them because after my rejection from Yale I mostly talked about looking for jobs in Colorado (and I was) so for a lot of them it came out of the blue. But I had loosely toyed with the idea of going to Alaska for a clerkship but soon realized I wasn’t interested in that type of work, yet the appeal of Alaska remained. Maybe it’s similar to McCandless’s quest of seeking adventure, the romanticism of the last frontier, or from my father being born there and me being shocked as a child to learn this (his family eventually returned to South Dakota before he started primary school so we never visited). I was really after the fellowship and it was just a bonus that it’s in Alaska.

For my friends confused by this, don’t forget Canada is in between!

Alaska remains in my mind as a destination of sorts that one vacation just can’t do justice so figured that at least a year (option to extend) might start to scratch the surface of all the state has to offer. My only real hesitation with taking the position is now having to deal with bears, but felt that the cancellation of not having to deal with snakes made it an even wash. And after picking everyone’s brain that has done work or lived in Alaska it seems that bear attacks/sightings are not as common as I had initially envisioned (currently knocking on wood).

As noted before I had to get a different car and while I was really hoping to avoid getting a new one with the limited amount of time (it’s a long story of how the time crunch came to be but telling it won’t change the facts so I’ll spare you) I had left there didn’t seem to be any other option, so after test-driving one, I became the owner of a new car, but it gives my family a false sense of security on my drive to Alaska so worth it…right?

I’m pretty sure my parents were still concerned that I would take off in my 2001 Subaru to Alaska so the day before I left in an attempt to go the farmer’s market with Tenzen I went to start it and it wouldn’t start, the battery wasn’t dead (my normal issue when I leave the lights on for more than 48 hours) but I didn’t have time to get to the bottom of it.

Bye-bye Little Bubaru

I’m pretty convinced that my parents either unplugged the starter or called our mechanic to force my hand. I think my family thought I was exceptionally attached to my old car, which to some extent I was because it came with no car payment and it was the perfect gear box. So this is all to say that buying a new car with limited information (no spreadsheets were painstakingly made and toiled over for months before hand) and time is something that I would under no circumstances ever recommend to anyone. But now I finally have a car worth more than my bikes so I guess that means I have to upgrade my bike…

I’m currently on the road and so far, this trip has been like no other and not just because of the 52-hour drive time. I’ve never felt more like a tourist, with stops in Glacier National Park, Banff, and Jasper National Park in Canada.

When I’ve been to other national parks it’s always been with a purpose beyond just looking around. But it’s been a nice change of pace of not having to plan around rides/runs/find trails and coordinate the logistics. I somehow convinced a friend to drive with me and she’s a master traveler and booked most everything on the way–so I really just had to get in the car (oh, and pack). All the stops so far have been exceptionally beautiful and with the limited amount of time have only been hitting the main tourist spots (Road to the Sun, Lake Louise, Icefields Parkway).

Road to the Sun….

It has made me realize how many people utilize the national parks, and while visitation is at an all-time high, budget cuts result in fewer resources available to those visitors. It’s also strange to think about seeing something that in all likelihood will not be around for the next generation to be captivated by. But as I have gone back and forth with a professor about, on the surface overcrowding is a problem but by getting more individuals outside we are creating more advocates that can potentially serve as environmental stewards and conservationists and work to preserve these pristine areas for the next generation.

Really crushing that tourist game

It’s really been a breathtaking drive and leaves the backcountry beckoning to come explore off the beaten path. Hopefully on the return trip there will be more time to go from trail to trail (now accepting adventure partner applications).

The Alaska Highway is a major route connecting Alaska to well everything else. But in a lot of ways it still feels primitive. The highway is only a two-way with every changing speed limits reflecting the ebb and flow of the landscape. It’s been odd to think that about 65 years ago my grandfather drove the same route to Alaska. Unlike other trips that have followed my grandparents markings this feels more ethereal, maybe because the areas seem so resistant to change that a lot of what I’m seeing today is similar to what he saw during his travels as well. In a lot of ways our journeys feel similar while at the same time completely different. I have the luxury of podcasts, endless music, rooms booked each night, and the convenience of knowing how far I’ll go between gas stations.

My grandfather headed north after WWII, after returning to South Dakota he wreck 2 or 3 cars in the span of a few months while on various benders (can’t really blame him, he did get shot, twice). Much like his generation the effects of war were felt, but the atrocities that the young men endured were never mentioned. Maybe he headed to Alaska to clear his head, get a change of pace, put some distance between who he had been and who he became during the war, or really no other reason than to follow a good and steady job. As I’ve grown older and have lost grandparents over the years I’ve realized the depth of their lives that existed before they had children (as a 4 year-old it was lost on me that they could exist beyond the one-dimension of being my grandparent) and it leaves a lot of gaps that in all likelihood will never be filled. This does, however, leave a lot of room for imagination of what his trip to Alaska entailed—and without cell service for days on this road not much else to do except think about the places he stopped, the corners he probably blew, and if he too felt like he was selfishly embarking on an adventure removed from his family.   

Okay, have I waxed enough metaphysics on you? Well this is all to say I’ll be in Alaska for a year with an open door invitation. Also hoping to write more to mainly keep my family updated on my adventures. I’m still planning on racing and starting to figure out which races I want to come back down for. But as for now we still have about 2 days before we hit our destination.

Supernova

If my semester could be summed up in one word it would be Supernova. Which the way Molly and I use it is we burn so bright and then explode.

After the Birkie I switched back to training for biking. I was planning on doing marathon nationals in May and needed to start building my base. I won an entry into the TommyKnocker 10 in southern New Mexico and rerouted my spring break flight to Phoenix. With a week to go until the 10 hour race something in my mind clicked and I realized that racing my bike for 10 hours would amount to 80-100 miles of riding—and I had been on my bike for 12 days at that point. I still had my flight to Phoenix and switched to the Cactus Cup, which had 3 days of racing: shorttrack, cross-country, and enduro. I supernova-ed so hard. The race started and I burned so bright and then exploded. To save you the mundane details I’ll summarize: my bike got lost in shipping, I tracked down a rental for short track, showed up with what I thought was 11 minutes to spare, turns out I was 20 minutes too late so they started me in the group after; got the hole shot and immediately faded to the back (everyone went by me as if I was pedaling backwards), my time is reflected of my initial starting position so something like 56 minutes (for a 20 minute circuit); I tracked down my bike and picked it up from a fedex warehouse at 11pm; assembled it as best I could, got to the race early and Sully put on my brake rotors (because I didn’t travel with the tool);

Thank goodness for mechanics who have tools you don’t.

I started the cross country race and got into a groove after the first 10 minutes; I started to move up in position and approached maybe the one long hill on course and downshifted my chain behind my cassette, had to hop off, fish it out, got it back on the cassette, spun the pedals around, immediately threw it back behind the cassette because I forgot to shift it out of that placement, fished it out again, looked around me and realized that everyone was gone. Got back on my bike and pedaled the remaining 36 miles being mindful to not shift it down too easy. I debated doing the last day of racing with the enduro but figured I would cut my loses, and caught a ride with Sully to Sedona.

When you pull the plug on racing, this is a nice alternative

Not great for the first race of the season but also not terrible for not planning on racing till April. I planned on doing a few crits throughout April but it seemed that between the weather and my workload it never lined up that I felt like I could get to one. I still had it in my mind that I was going to do nationals, and it would have been similar to last semester where I finish finals and immediately turn around and race my bike–but I did it last semester so can do it again, right?

Skipped the Grand Canyon for CO National Monument because we thought we’d be getting there later.

My plans started to change mid-April. It’s the 100th anniversary of the Grand Canyon (still so impressed it only took 100 years to create-ha) and really wanted to make it down there at some point. Sully had been training for a 25 mile trail race and there was one weekend at the end of April that he would be in Sedona and I could leave to meet him and do a big run/hike down to Phantom Ranch with the plan to make it to Ribbon Falls because the bridge was washed out the last time we went. At that point committing to the Grand Canyon scrapped my thoughts of marathon nationals. Even if we didn’t run the whole thing, I didn’t think my legs and mental stamina would be ready to race 60 miles three weeks later. I would rather get to The Canyon anyway. Unfortunately, the weekend before our trip Sully’s grandmother passed away and there was no way he was going to make it back to go to The Canyon, rightfully so. I thought about going by myself but ultimately decided it wasn’t worth it. I had been battling some inner demons the week before Sully called me. One of the girls I used to coach in the summer league was out hiking in Arkansas and lost her footing, fell off a rock outcrop, and passed away (If you want to read about her, this is a great write-up). The most freak accident ever, she wasn’t near the edge but stepped down and rolled her ankle, lost her balance and went over. It seemed like my whole town went into mourning for this beautiful life that was cut short with no rational explanation. I think anytime something like that happens it ultimately leads people (me) to reflect on their (my) life, how many times you (I) could have misstep, or the adventures you (I) take for granted, or the fact that you (I) hit your (my) head just right to make a full recovery. I talked to Molly a lot that week about the life that we choose to pursue and the risks that come with it. I even called my best friend who is a child psychologist to get coping mechanisms for when I went to The Canyon. It was very unfortunate that Sully’s grandma passed away but it made it easier to pull the plug without thinking twice.

I then thought of meeting my friends May 4th for a ski day but didn’t think I could take the time to travel and a day out to have fun while being in the midst of final prep. So then I thought again about doing marathon nationals but at that point, it seemed that the logistics for marathon nationals was too much to orchestrate. My race bike was in Boulder, I was in Indiana, and the race was in Texas. Figuring out the logistics while about to go into finals seemed more than I could mentally handle and instead bought a ticket to Denver to go ride for a week before graduation. The last few weeks of law school were pretty rough. I joke about how I spent the first two months of law school crying and I think I ended a similar way. When I pulled the plug on nationals and the canyon it created this inner dialogue that all the sacrifices that I had made for racing were now moot. But also if I wasn’t racing how do I define myself, am I still an athlete, or am I just now a law student. One of my friends is a nutritionist and actually posed this question to me a few weeks before all this happened. I said yes but also sometimes I don’t know.

Not cycling and not being athletic while being social who knew this could be a thing

 I arrived in CO Thursday with one paper left to submit. I finished formatting it, attached a table of contents and with it submitted had turned in 194 pages of written work over seven days. Okay so maybe that’s why I was constantly in a state of feeling turned inside out. I was able to get on my cross and mountain bike over the seven days and it was amazing. Saturday I crewed for Sully at his 25 mile trail race which made me realize I never want to do one—it looked pretty miserable. Sunday he shuttled me to a trail and rode part of it with the plan that I would attach a few more trails and then ride back to town.

I carried on without him and about 20 minutes into my solo ride kicked a rock up and into my rear derailleur. It threw the shifting off and after battling it for 10 minutes realized it was a lost cause, sent Sully a text to please me meet at the next trail head to pick me up and then hiked my way to the top of the hill. Fortunately at that point the rest of the trail was mostly down hill so lowered my seat and used my feet to gain enough momentum to carry myself the two miles down to the trail head. I had twisted the derailleur and needed to get a new one. I was able to ride with a few friends but did a 6 hour solo day while the bike was getting fixed. I put my phone was on airplane mode and my garmin died after 3 hours which was amazing.

Definitely not ever finding this place again

Being disconnected from the world helped a lot. I feel like I have gotten to the end of law school and have so much left unfinished– there are a few papers that I’m still trying to push out for publishing and honestly thought I would have one out by the time I graduated, I also felt like I had sacrificed a lot of my mental health and happiness in favor of grades this semester –and when I got to the end and was only left with grades I wasn’t sure it was worth it.

The weekend of graduation brought waves of emotion that were the size of the ocean. It was a bittersweet day, I was happy to have completed and gotten though but it was punctuated with a loss of a beloved professor and compounded with leaving academia after four years and uncertainty about the future.

Mary as the last holdout in becoming a lawyer

I knew that last semester was going to set me up for this, what other possibility was there when I raced five national championships with law school. So I’ve failed when I’ve only gotten good grades and competed in zero national races. I know writing this out sounds so absurd. I think I have a lot of fear moving forward because I don’t feel like I’m done wanting to race but I feel like right now I’m having to prioritize other things. I’ve talked about it before but the personal sacrifices that go into racing have always been worth it, but when I’m not racing and it still feels like I’m sacrificing is it worth it? It all comes back to peaks and valleys. Sometimes you ride the high, sometimes you ride the low and you just hope that the peaks last longer than the valleys, just like in races. Sometimes it just requires a bit of shifting gears. The nice thing about the cycling community is that it’s small and plenty of people have felt similar to me so when I reach out they are there to remind me that racing will always be there and it’s okay to take a step back with a different approach–but still working on it.

What I actually looked like all semester #notcyclingclothes

The Opposite of Loneliness: Part II

The first year of law school I wrote a blog post called, “The Opposite of Loneliness” based on the short work by the same name by Marina Keegan. In it I talked about how the first year of law school and training was a struggle because I felt all alone in the space–now in my final year of law school I feel like I’ve cultivated a space that while I’m still often alone on plenty of training rides, I’m surrounded by this feeling that there are people, an abundance of people who are on my team.

Recently, I was putting together a list of races from this past season and counted up 26 times that I had competed from April to December. The most of any season. With times ranging from 12 minutes (crit racing with the boys) to 12 hours (Maah Daah Hey), distances from less than 5 miles to 104 miles. It was also the first season that I would have broken $1,000 in prize winnings. I ultimately fell short because races that advertised as equal pay had a asterisk; enough women had to register for them to offer equal pay–and instead if enough women weren’t registered downgraded what you would take home–so instead of getting $70, I would get $20 for a first place–and be told this after the race. Had I gotten paid equally with the men who were competing I would have been over $1,000 for prize winnings.

Don’t get me wrong, winning money is still great but also depressing when I have little control over who shows up to race against me. Fortunately, more and more races are offering equal prize money without the asterisk. The Maah Daah Hey offers equal prize money for the top 3 in both gender divisions regardless of how many racers show up–amazing! Cyclocross race organizers have been and are getting on board with this trend. The Beti Bike Bash has been a force for breaking down barriers, holding a women’s only race from beginners to pros and an incredible prize purse. A lot of teams are independently creating space for women by having equal representation (Donnelly Cycling, Cannondale, Trek, Kona) but there are also some amazing women’s only teams (LA Sweat, Amy D. Foundation, Bitch-n-Grit). Change is happening and largely in part because women and men are both willing to speak up, like Lindsay who used her voice when an announcer was making sexist remarks during a race weekend. Okay, stepping off soap-box now.

Felt like my body’s check engine light came on a while ago.

It wasn’t until I quantified everything that I realized the stress and strain I was putting on my body. This year was filled with a lot of discomfort athletically and personally. Athletically trying to reach the next level, fitting in training plans, dial in new nutritional goals, and having a bit of a break down this summer wondering if it was still worth it and still having fun. Personally, I’m slowly beginning to figure out what I want after law school. I feel like I reached new levels of insight but also continue to question at the expense of what. During National’s I pushed myself beyond any limit that I thought my body had. As well as finishing finals and racing nationals, I was also finalizing a PhD application (lolz)–not only was my body pretty battered at the end but also my mind.

The face you make when you realize you signed up to ski 30 miles…

I haven’t quite started training for this season yet — a 50K nordic ski race is still on the docket– but I’ve taken a lot of time to reflect on this past season and what this next season will look like. I’ve found a new profound sense of gratitude for what my body can do but also for my support crew.

I get asked a lot how I train and go to law school at the same time–while I’m unique in the law school as no one else seems to be racing; it’s not uncommon for most racers to be training and racing with full time careers, school, parenting, and other pursuits that require master juggling skills. My usually response is to joke that I have no social life, which isn’t that far of a stretch but mostly I’m able to do all I do because of an amazing support crew.

I would be remiss if I started 2019 without reflecting on all those individuals who made the 2018 season happen– so feel free to keep reading for a more sappier post than normal or discontinue now to maintain your image of me.

First of all to my parents who show up to crew races in the middle of nowhere and don’t bat an eye at the wake-up call times. Who share with me in my victories and my disappointment and are always willing to support me even though I’m sure they think a lot of what I do is borderline crazy.

Beyond just my parents, my extended family–Joyce and Margaret who also came to Nationals with my mom; Tom who keeps reminding me that at some point my body will break down and I won’t be able to compete at the level I am so I should keep doing it; Marty who has lent me socks when I forgot mine and wanted to ride home from his house. Barb (and by extension Pat) who has shown me that competing knows no age and has spurred me to sign up for races that weren’t on my radar (Maah Daah Hey) and will even commiserate the really miserable ones with me after (Tatanka).

Molly, Mary, Frank, Abe, and Wayne who all seem to send encouraging thoughts when I need them (and make me check myself before I wreck myself). Mainly I’m thankful to my family who have fully supported me even though I’m not convinced they still know what I do (or some of them).

Squad Goals

Sully who offered unwavering support this season, from warm-up space, to race recaps, to being in the pits, to answering dumb mechanical questions, to switching out parts, taking pictures, bike builds, FaceTimes when I have to pack and unpack my bike, being my race partner when everyone else bailed, and getting me kits from former Olympians.

Then when Sully wasn’t around, Drew who offered embro cream and tire pressure analytics. Alex, Wayne, and Rudy, who tell me my bike looks normal when it’s making noise. #ignoranceisbliss

Thanks Drew!

My coach, Chris who made training easier with school when I didn’t have to think about what I needed to do and who walked through race plans with me and reminded me to trust the process. Uri who helped me dial in my nutrition for the first time in my life and I feel like it actually made a significant difference in my body being able to hold up despite everything I was throwing at it.

Quite the upgrade from chips for dinner

Juliana Bicycles, who makes an amazing bike that climbed like a goat and descended better than me. And also provided me with an incredible group of women to look up to both athletically and professionally.

The ladies at Team Do Awesome who are continuously offering encouraging words and inspiration.

Brian at Boulder Bicycles Works and Chris who both took care of my bike this summer, whether it was replacing parts or packing and shipping it to me.

Lindsay and Leslie who offered warm-up space and dinner when I was alone at a race. People who have offered race course information and friends (Amy) who put me in touch with other racers to get more information (Kelly), especially for the Maah Daah Hey

Beyond the bike community, I have friends who constantly read emails before I send them, research proposals before I submit them, and paragraphs that seem wonky (Luna, Lalla, Danika, Cheska, Emma). All while offering up support to be able to go after those big dreams.

They will all probably hate me for posting this picture too!

Other friends who pretend to know what I’m talking about (Kara, Heidi, Hayley) when I short hand research and talk a million miles a minute. Rachel, who is always there when I call and can pick up without skipping a beat and after a good race asks me how close I am to the olympics (reminding me to always stay humble–lolz).

Laughing because they’re older than me

Caitlyn who communicates almost exclusively through memes or West Wing quotes always offering a good laugh. Plenty of other friends who garner a mention, Christina, Chris, Mary Carol, Jordan, Jessie, Christa, Katie, Allison, Dave, Nicola, Willie, Kristin, Katharine, Wayne, Neven, Abby, Cross, Sam, and Theresa (not exhaustive)

Not Cycling Clothes

Those at Notre Dame who have taken me to dinners and imparted their wisdom on my situation, including Judge Ripple, Dolly, Pete, and Heidi.

Kelly who is always available to print things for me (seriously game changer), go on a candy run, and hash through my life predicaments. Ashley who helped me prepare for a conference in November and understands when I’m on the fence for dinner.

My roommates (Ann, Megan, and Michelle) who are subject to endless cycles of laundry, constant rotating coffee in the fridge, and odd hour trainer rides. I feel like a lot of my achievement last semester was in no small part to having a place to come home and decompress and have a social life with. I think it also helps that three of us used to live in Colorado and all of us like to be active.

Morning Trainer Session

The women from my hometown who I feel like have been cheerleading for me for most of my life–Denise, Dana, Mrs. Muller, Lynn, Mrs. Stokes, and Mrs. Huddleston, and one who is not from my hometown but still amazingly supportive, Cheri. And to those in my hometown community who are carving out a place for MTB (mainly Nate Ritterbush) by doing trail maintenance and hosting a race.

My interns this summer, Laksumi and Allyson who still snapchat me hilarious antidotes and swipe me into the dining hall.

The guys at ND who often pull me around on their rides and no doubt make me faster as a result–Ron, John, Sam, Mike and Yuri.

The pain train

This year as with years past, this sport has taken me into the presence of truly great people who are pushing athletic and professional boundaries. I feel that I’m constantly trying to up my game because of them.

If you’ve read this far and have not been mentioned, my truest apologies–I almost thought about not doing this for that fear–this list is nowhere near exhaustive and if you’ve been a part of my life this year or really in any years past I guarantee you have influenced my direction. There are a lot of people I can’t thank–like the woman who saw me having a breakdown before I was to leave for nationals and hugged me for a good 5 minutes--the guy who jumped my car after having parked at the airport for MTB Nationals with my lights on and after getting a jump from the airport, with no gas left, I stopped at the nearest gas station and didn’t drive far enough and killed the battery almost immediately again, and he gave me a jump so I could drive home. Or the group of girls during the MDH who gave me food and water at checkpoint 77.

I get by with so much help from my friends.
Get yourself some Hufflepuffs like these two–haha


Maah Daah Hey 100

The morning of the Maah Daah Hey 100 I surprised myself with how well everything came together. The chaos getting to North Dakota (shipping a bike from CO after I had left– thanks again, Chris! Driving from Indiana to North Dakota, somehow only forgetting my headlight, which Barb was able to save me with an extra one!) settled and I felt ready, excited, and nervous. One of my friends put me in touch with the 3x time winner, Kelly–thanks again, Amy! I was able to pick his brain about the trail, mechanicals, and even what time zone it started in. He was very generous with his accrued knowledge. He gave me a heads up about the third section, to mentally prepare for 30 miles and not 25. He also talked about what an amazing race it was and how I would probably surprise myself. He gave me enough confidence that I felt excited but not so much so that I still wasn’t nervous about what I was about to embark on. My plan was to go as hard as I could for first 50 miles and then go from there…I mean I had 18 hours to get there so what’s the worst that could happen?

I pulled into the campground with my parents and started going through my routine.

bug spray .JPEG
The first of many sunscreen sprays for the day

I noticed that my front tire was a little squishy and figured I had a slow leak somewhere but it would hold for at least 18 hours, this logic was based on nothing other than optimism. I chatted with a few other riders which also helped to take the edge off. The staging area is self-selected depending on how fast you think you’ll be. I saw the first girl a few rows back from Kelly and slotted myself behind her. She turned around and said, “if you’ve won your age-group at Leadville you should definitely be in front of me…sorry I stalked everyone online.” I laughed and told her I had no idea how this was going to go so was going to stick to my spot.the start .jpg

The race started quickly, I moved up to get a good position for the climb as I didn’t want to have to maneuver around too many people. I missed the lead group but managed to get in a pack of 4. I knew from talking to others that the first climb was about 3 miles and 800 feet up. I stuck on the back of the group until about half way up I realized I could get around them and put more distance in between me and the others.

I got to the top and it released into–maybe the only flat section of the day. It was also the only two-track of the day and I saw that my front wheel looked a little low. Hmmm, it’s probably fine but just in case took my phone out (also probably the only place I got service) and texted my dad, “bring my pump to aid station”. I rolled through the first check point at mile 10 and shouted, “does anyone have a floor pump” and drew blank stares. One woman said she did but at her car down the hill, I passed, it wasn’t that low, and turned the corner. I shouted it once again and a lady grabbed one from the back of her car. I popped it on, 20 psi…hmmm I definitely had at least 24 in it this morning, pumping it up. Just make it to mile 25 and get more air.

At mile 14 I heard a noise I couldn’t place right away but my subconscious recognized it as it sent chills down my spine. I immediately searched for the culprit and saw it right in front of me, my front tire was shooting sealant out (bet you thought I ran into a snake). Nooooooo! I hopped off and spun my front wheel like I was on the Price is Right trying to get a dollar. Please catch, please catch, please catch as I kept spinning. It did and fell silent again. Ohhfta that was close. I hopped back on and started to catch the guys who passed me.

My brain quickly went through scenarios of what I should do. This happened to me once before at my very first 50 miler, I got a puncture, got it to seal and rode it for the next 27 miles to get 2nd. The next day when the tire was holding air Sully told me, “you did the right thing, ride it until you have to put a tube in.” Okay I told myself, ride it until you have to put a tube in it and then go from there. But here’s the thing, under no circumstances did I want to have to put a tube in. Given the terrain I figured if I did put a tube in it would puncture again and would need to be replaced at least 1 if not 2 more times. Less than ideal. 

I constantly fluctuated from trying to ride gingerly, including holding my breath at moments of peril when I thought it would go again to might as well go hard while I can. It blew again around mile 18 and I pulled off to the side and spun it again, and again, and again. And then in a genius ‘past Kate’ moment I realized that I had my hand pump with me (I didn’t want to use a CO2 in case I needed it for a tube). I pumped more air into the tire and spun it again. It was at this stopping point that a woman passed me. I mentally took note and finished as quickly as I could to keep her in sight.

I wasn’t sure my strategy now, I wanted to try to stay close enough that I could be within striking distance if something happened but also with 80 miles left in the race had no idea how it would play out. We traded positions once again and came into the first aid station together. I found my parents and a volunteer filled my camelbak while my parents restocked me with maple syrups, peanut butter, and bananas. I checked my tire again and put chain lube on.

fixing my wheel
Almost took my finger off in one of those spins…

The tire was still sitting around 25 psi. I saw the woman lead out of the aid station and the volunteer was still fumbling trying to figure out how to close my bladder. I took a breath as this wasn’t going to make or break any position. Number one rule I have when racing: Don’t be an asshole to the volunteers, no seriously, they are amazing. I told him to screw it on and then jokingly asked, “is this your first rodeo?” He said yes, I told him he was doing great and he would have plenty more to practice with during the day. I headed out knowing I would meet my parents at the next aid station mile 50.

For the first few miles out of aid one I was able to keep the woman in my sights. I really tried to not let the mechanical get in my head. I reminded myself that it’s still a long race and that anything can happen, and that I’ve benefited from other’s misfortunes before- it’s part of racing. I prayed to anyone or anything that would listen asking them to hold the seal on the tire and get me to aid 50.

At the start of the race one woman was talking how her husband (who was racing) showed her a video of Devil’s Pass and she couldn’t even watch it because of the heights and exposure. My mom was like, do you know where that is? I responded, no, I don’t even know what that is while laughing.  I found it on this section.

IMG_2065-1024x683-1
Image from: Maah Daah Hey Trail Association

There was a sign followed by a cattle gate and it pretty much turned into a narrow ridge that has dropoffs on either side. I hit the ridge line and starting singing very loudly, not even coherent words, just a automatic response to the build up of fear in my body.  Luckily, no one was around as my voice leaves much to be desired. I got to the other side and was greeted again by a cattle gate. I stopped and figured I might as well take a picture but just as I did my tire burst.

Devil's pass .JPG
The only photo I got from the day!

I did the same thing as before, spin, spin, spin, air, spin, spin, spin. It seemed to do the trick.

A few miles later and close to the 50 mile aid station I was greeted with the Little Missouri River crossing. I hoisted my bike and shouldered it across. The passage had smooth rock on the bottom and the water hit just below my knees offering a brief reprieve from the heat that had began to coat the land. The aid station was a short climb away and on the climb up my tire blew again. Noooo, seriously?!? I got it to catch again and rode into the aid station asking if there was a mechanic there. I put more air in and got it to catch, and then not catch, and then catch, and then not catch, and had a volunteer spinning it while another lubed the chain and I debated putting a tube in. My parents were rockstars and switched out my bottles gave me maple syrups, peanut butter, bananas, and potatoes.

eating food .jpg
The only time I ever eat pickles…100 mile races

I left the aid station but didn’t feel super confident so asked my parents to meet me at the next check point, Mile 57. As I was about to turn onto the trail another rider said, “great riding” I didn’t hear him but saw that his wife had a Santa Cruz bike on her car, “Is that a Tallboy with non-boost wheels?!?” Homegirl was dessssssperate. They both looked at me and then I explained what was happening and thought maybe she would switch wheels with me (ha!). It was a 27.5″ wheel so no luck but then her husband who is racing goes, “do you want some more sealant”? “Oh my gosh you have some, that would be amazing”. Here’s the thing, I knew if it blew again at some point I would be out of sealant and would have no choice but to put a tube in. His wife pulls out this tool box with a valve-core remover, a syringe for the sealant, and then it dawns on me…Ohhhh this is what people have if they don’t have extra wheels or a mechanic on course, huh…I’ll have to remember this. They were quick and efficient putting a full shot of sealant into my tire and pumping it up to 30psi (I told them to just in case it blew again I would have extra air in there). I thanked them profusely and offered beers at the finish line (and #42 if you’re reading this please send me your address so I can send you all the beers!). I took off with more confidence in my tire. It did blow one or two more times but it was more when the sealant monster would fall off and pull what was cauterized with it before it could reseal. There was enough sealant in there that I didn’t have to get off my bike at all.

getting more food .jpg
All the snacks!

I checked in with my parents at Mile 57. It was still at 30 so the small blows weren’t really anything. I got another potato and said I would see them at Mile 80. Kelly’s info really helped me prepare for this section and I was grateful. There were two more checkpoints after that. The first one I stopped at and there were so many women there that I said, “this is the most women I have seen all day.” They were all part of this team that were either crewing or racing, they gave watermelon and filled up my camelbak at both checkpoints. I was feeling really good going into aid 3. I met my parents, grabbed more syrup, another potato, and a fresh bottle. I told my mom, “Uh, I think I’m going to ride back to town now” she looked at me, “you’re quitting?” “Oh, no I’m just going to ride this last segment.”  So maybe I wasn’t feeling that fresh and the heat was starting to get to me.

Soon after leaving Aid 3 my stomach started to resist anything and everything. I was able to force down another maple syrup to try to get some energy but was having none of my drink mix. I kept trying to force water down.  I went by the first check point and the workers asked if I needed water and I literally just stared at them because I couldn’t comprehend what that meant. I kept pedaling and forcing down the water.

getting a push off
Just a few more pushes and I’ll be there…

The last 15 miles were the hardest miles I have ever done in my life. I was so tired, I could barely keep my eyes open and even tried to closed them twice for extended periods, “I’m just resting my eyes” really only works when you’re lying on the couch. I convinced myself that was a really good way to get another brain injury. I also debated taking a nap, I had 6 hours till the cut-off so I could take a little nap but then what if the lady in 3rd is close to me and I’m napping. Then I thought maybe I would just lie on the side of the trail that way whoever the next rider was would wake me because they would think I was injured or dead, also not a great plan. Finally, I convinced myself that getting through the last few miles would be the quickest way to take the longest nap. I settled on that reasoning and kept pedaling. I topped my bottle off with fresh ice water at the last check point.

I made it to the final 5 miles that I had pre-ridden the day before. Now I should mention the cattlegates, they are spring loaded so you lift from one side, it fans up, you go under, and it releases back down. Now I have been doing one pull-up so you can gauge my strength. There are probably 12-17 on the course. There were maybe 3 in the last 8 miles, which let me tell you were a struggle. I wondered at some point if I would just have to wait for someone to show up to open it. At the beginning of the race I would hop off, bend over, lift it up, wheel my bike under, release, and hop back on. Well, by the last few miles I would hop off, squat down, load my legs, use all my strength to thrust it over my head, hold it up, wobble underneath, while praying I didn’t release it onto the back tire, and after a moment of sheer panic thinking my bike would get smashed, get back on and ride away.

After getting through the last cattleguard I was somewhat relieved that I just had to pedal home now. I got back on and started down the first little descent when I suddenly saw the first snake of the day. At mile 103, I just stopped and went, “excuse me sir, I’d like to pass, would you be so kind to get off the trail.” Yeah, I was fully delirious at this point because I definitely did my best Mary Poppins impression. I wasn’t even scared I had no energy for any kind of emotion, it was like all my adrenaline was gone, there was no flight or fight response. But he obliged and slithered off the trail. “Thank you!” And I continued on my way.

finish line photo
Okay, so maybe my parents could improve on the finish line photos hahaha

I hit the last section being the only pavement of the day and went under the finish banner. I immediately pulled off to the side, got off my bike, and laid down.  I laid there for a while, taking everything in, like when you do savasana in yoga to absorb all the good juju. I laid there as everyone talked around me swapping stories of the day with me interjecting when I could muster. I remember thinking this is what it is all about. nap at the end .jpg I finally got up and talked to the woman who beat me. She was an incredibly strong rider, having done the whole thing on flat pedals which convinced me that even without my mechanicals she would have beat me.

podium .jpg
When you finish just in time for the awards ceremony…haha

Am I going to do it again? Ohhhh you betcha! I’m honestly a little sad that I spent so many years doing Leadville because this race and community is so amazing. Every rider that passed me when I was dealing with my mechanicals offered to help, every volunteer was so great on course, my parents also put in a long day and even drove my car through a river to get to an aid station.

I for the life of me can’t figure out why this race isn’t sold out every year. The terrain is incredible, it reminded me of the Grand Canyon, where there is just so much life and levels of vegetation–definitely not what I was expecting spending time in the South Dakota Badlands. And it’s 99% singletrack. Next summer I’ll be studying for the bar so was thinking of doing it as a team with 50 miles each (yes, you read that as an open invitation), and hoping the next year to possibly go after the women’s course record. My time was 12:45 and I had 44 minutes of stop time, for a comparison at Leadville I usually have 8 minutes of stop time.

Here’s the thing, I’ve never had a race crack the ‘Top 5 Experiences on My Bike’ list but this one definitely did.

with age group
Taken right before I ate a whole chicken.

with barb
Barb won her division in the 25-mile distance

with parents
My parents should definitely win an award for how willing they are to jump into my adventures!

“That’s what the trail means. You can go out there by yourself and cry and nobody will hear you except the spirits, and they’ll help you.” -Mr. Baker.

The Best Kept Secret*

I thought for sure by this time I would have more of a reason to write but atlas, I don’t. I had planned to go to CX Nationals over break but with a lot of hoops to jump through with ND Cycling it didn’t exactly pan out and by the time I realized it wasn’t going to happen there was no way to orchestrate my logistics to get there. I was pretty bummed about having to miss it and commiserated the fact over a lot of fries with my dad. I decided over break that I would either go to Old Man Winter in CO or back to Fat Bike Nationals –both the same weekend in February. I was leaning more towards Old Man Winter (Ryan and his team put on a great event!), mainly because after I pulled the plug on CX Nats I took some time off so didn’t feel in shape enough to race at FB Nationals. I figured Old Man Winter would help me to get some early season base miles in too.

The races were last weekend and I didn’t attend either–I had decided to sign up for a three week course on transnational civil litigation and with my final being yesterday didn’t feel like I could take a weekend or day off to travel for an event. So instead I’ll catch you up with what I did over Christmas Break- which because of how cold it ended up being, it was a lot of running and hiking.

It did start with some biking- back when I thought I was going to nationals I tried to get into racing shape after finals.

IMG_2966.JPG
About to grind some gravel.

After about two days of riding, it got cold. Cold enough that having to ride outside would be miserable even with all my layers– and there was snow. Instead I opted to hike/run up Black Elk Peak.

dad and i .jpg
My mom worried less and my sister got her car cleaned–win/win!

The first day I was going to go up alone, but my mom always worries so my dad offered to come with. Which meant he sat and mostly cleaned out my sister’s car (finding $1.63 so well worth the trip) while I ran up and then back down. Going up was a little rough, coming from sea-level and not doing a lot of running to begin with–I alternated between running and hiking. I got to the top and was about to check in with my parents when my phone shut off from the cold. I then ran the whole way down the mountain to get back to the car before the cut-off time I had told my parents so they wouldn’t worry. I was a bit smoked at the end. But not enough to not do it again, and again, and again. Fortunately for me I found at least found a few friends who tolerated the 20 degree day (Laura) and the 7 degree day (Jessie).

FullSizeRender 15
Buddy #1

FullSizeRender 11
Buddy #2

FullSizeRender 10
Finally had a photographer with me- haha

FullSizeRender 9FullSizeRender 6FullSizeRender 16FullSizeRender 4

I think I ended going up and down Black Elk 4 times when I was home. I’m about 25 minutes off the fastest time up and down so that’s something I have in the back of my mind.

I also made my way to the Badlands- which to be completely honest I’ve only stopped in once that I can remember. I’m pretty deterred from ever going there in the summer because of all the snakes but fortunately for me when the ground is frozen so are the snakes! I was able to run about 6 miles on various trails and just kept thinking (1) how did the pioneers reach this and decide to keep going and (2) how I’ll have to come back next winter when all the snakes are frozen again.

FullSizeRender 5

IMG_3600

FullSizeRender 14.jpgIMG_3798.JPG

And then because the pass was good for the whole week and I had spent $20 on it. I went back the next day too. Unfortunately it was under a winter storm alert so didn’t not spend that much time outside the car.

FullSizeRender 13

FullSizeRender 7

FullSizeRender 12.jpg

Spending two days in the Badlands made me definitely want to do the Maah Daah Hey 100 race in the North Dakota Badlands (snakes be damned!). The race has been on my list for years but always was too close to Leadville to make both of them work and since I didn’t get into Leadville figure this is my window opening to a door closing. I’m already starting to mentally prepare- the man who has the MDH course record is really fast and it took him 8:56 – just for comparison the Leadville 100 course record is about 5:59 sooo yeah I might be in the pain cave for a while, but they don’t call them the badlands for nothing.

“Maybe the desert wisdom of the Dakotas can teach us to love anyway, to love what is dying, in the face of death, and not pretend that things are other than they are.” –Kathleen Norris

*I debating putting this post up at all because of how rad South Dakota is and I don’t want everyone to move there.

IMG_2984.PNG
And I hung out with this ham.

Thesis Training

When focusing on writing and defending my thesis, my blog posting fell to the way side–Here’s just a brief recap of what I’ve been up to since arriving back in the states in mid-June.

I arrived back into the states, did two trainer rides and signed up for my first mountain bike race in almost 10 months– and my first go back on my mountain bike in 7 months.

helmet pic
Well

It was a bit ugly and 2 hours later I wondered why I didn’t sign up for the 10 mile option instead of the 20-miler. I somehow survived and was surprised that my legs went out much sooner than my lungs, so maybe running actually did something. I decided to do the race to help ‘race my way back into shape’.

podium picture
Well, at least I wasn’t sandbagging!

Within the first week of arriving back into the states I secured a spot for Leadville (yikes!) but with no aspirations of defending my age group title. Instead, I’m hoping to be in good enough shape to ride with another WBR team rider and get across the finish together (more on it all later, promise). It should be a great day and I’m looking forward to it.

thesis picture
This was my view for the past few weeks

Given the limited time frame to get into shape and the fact that I was writing my thesis, I got in touch with my coach from last year to come up with a plan, which meant a lot of road and trainer rides.

road biking nd
At least other ND cycling people were on campus

I did not tell my parents about Leadville until I absolutely had to because was worried my mom would worry more about my stress level between training and writing. Riding gave me a good excuse to take a break and ruminate on what I had been working on. Only once did I go to the doctor to get some blood drawn and have a resting heart rate of 92, minor detail.

I defended my thesis and passed, if you’re interested in reading 97 pages about influenza vaccines, lettme know! I found that prepping for a thesis defense was similar to an endurance race.

podium dome .JPG

You spend a lot of time, resources and energy working towards the goal. Don’t change your equipment the day of– I walked halfway across campus with the podium I had practiced with, and the night before you realize you have done everything you can at this point and just need to get some good sleep. Afterwards, I was able to spend about a week and half in South Dakota before heading back to ND for graduation.   bh trailsI was able to get some trail riding in with Barb why home. I’m now on my way back to South Dakota and will head down to CO in about a week for Leadville. After Leadville, it’s back to law school!

with parents
Pre-graduation dinner and not cycling clothes!

group at door

It happened to be baton twirling national championships at ND this weekend and I found a discarded baton in the grass that allowed me to relive my glory days, much to the amusement of my family- ha!

Days Like These

Early this year when I started to log more running miles than cycling miles someone asked me what I was training for, I responded with, “Life”. Even with the added base of running my legs were a little heavy for Day 3.

3 start of trek .jpg
At the start of the day

Knowing that time was a precious commodity I realized I could tackle the route I had planned even if I was hiking the whole time. My goal was to do a similar route to the day before, only on the other side of the valley. I started in town and hiked up to left towards Montenvers, I opted for the shorter route and still took a good 90 minutes to get to the top.

3 glaicier .jpg

Only at the top did I realize that there was a train option. For only seeing 2 people on the trail the view point was suddenly littered with unaccompanied minors throwing rocks and adults wandering aimlessly around. It was a bizarre spectacle to come out of the solitude of the trail and emerge onto a boisterous scene of people. 3 stairway .jpg

From there I hiked up towards Signal Forbes, which was a lot of rock stairs and questioning if I took the right trail. Once I reached the peak it flattened out a bit but I still opted against running due to all the jagged rocks waiting to claim me as their victim (no need to learn about the French medical system).3 trails .jpg The trail smoothed out eventually and my walk turned into a trot and then back to a walk and then back to a trot as my quads were a little blown out. I started calling it the “wrot”  and could only wonder what people thought of me (fortunately there were not a lot of people on the trail at this point). 3 closer to the top .jpgThe views were still breathtaking, not so much the other side of the valley but the ridge line that I was running on offered vantage points up towards the highest peaks.

I made it to De L’Aiguille and was again mystified at the cable car running up from the town. No way was I getting on that thing. I sat down and waited a few moments hoping that the clouds would break and I could get a good picture of Aiguille Du Midi.

3 top vies .JPG
I promise there is a cool view behind the clouds

There is also a cable car that runs up to that peak at 3842 meters, I almost threw up thinking about that option. I wandered around a bit debating if I should hike up to Lac Bleu or head down, I saw a sign that said it was only 15 minutes so opted towards the lake. The problem with the maps and the signs is that none of them have distance and only times, and I’m still not sure who those times are based. lake selfie.JPGThe lake was pretty but with the cloud coverage didn’t offer as much of a view as Lac Blanc the day before. I sat for a few minutes, reapplied some sunscreen, ate some dried mangos and contemplated just how much sunscreen I had ingested at that point.

I started down, which the sign said time to Chamonix about 2:30 but I figured it would be 1:30. The first steps down the trail I wasn’t so sure, it was steep and the drop offs were more perilous than the Grand Canyon.

3 going down .JPG
This wasn’t the worst exposure but the only one I felt comfortable stopping to take a photo

I was definitely hugging the non-exposure side at some moments and also scooting along to lower my center of gravity. It’s times like these that I really think about lasik eye surgery so I can have accurate depth perception (Background: I only have one bad eye but hate touching my eye so never wear contacts and only glasses for reading and school, which is probably why I crash a lot while biking or trip while trail running. My optometrist once stated, “I can’t believe you’re still alive with this depth perception.”). 3 down switchbacks.jpgThe trail was filled with a lot of switchbacks and continued on the steep grades, even when the exposure disappeared. I still continued to awkwardly shuffle down between a walk and a trot, trying not to jar my quads too much. I made it down in about 1:40 and bee-lined it to the grocery store to get candy (I ate all my skittles from the day before  (Kara, I promise I will fit in my bridesmaid dress-haha)).

4 pano.jpg
And there was minimal cloud coverage on my last day- go figure!

For my last day I knew I wouldn’t have too much time because I had to catch the shuttle back to Geneva. I opted for a short loop on the opposite side of the Chamonix Peaks so I could take in those views one last time. I also thought my legs would be completely shot but surprised me when they were good to run both up and down (fortunately not super steep grades). 4 views .jpgI only did about 2 hours and stopped a lot to take pictures. There is a race around Mont Blanc, I don’t think there is anyway I would survive the race and I’d probably spend wayyy too much time taking photos. It seems like the route goes through enough little towns that you can run it with minimal support, which would be really fun if anyone reading this is interested…

4 views ss.jpg

As I was getting packed up to leave I had the thought that I wish I could spend more time here, and I realized that I have that thought about almost anywhere I go. It’s certainly a great privilege to be able to explore this world.

4 jumping.jpg

More photos:

3 close to the top
Views from the trail

3 closer to the top

3 train tracks
Realizing I could have taken the train

3 train going up
Perfectly timed snack break looking at Aig des Drus (I think)

3 running

4church
Never thought about a destination wedding until I saw this place

church in chamonix
Sorry Mom and Dad- but at least it’s Catholic 😉

4 parting shot

day 3 puuuuuttt
Hotel Du Montenvers

day-3-put3.jpg
View from Ref. Du Plan

day 3puuuuuuuuuuuut
View from Grand Balcon Nord Trail towards L’Aiguille

day 3puttttt
Caillet about halfway up to Montenvers

day 3 puuuuu
View from Caillet porch

day 3 put this inday 3 putday 3 pueee

Chamonix Day 1 and 2

I had initially planned to have a few days at the end of my trip but with some scheduling conflicts it worked out better to make a long weekend of it (my research budget did not get approved for that much time in Geneva). I had initially thought of going to Lauterbrunnen or Zermatt but one of my good friends has spent time in Chamonix, doing the Ultra Trail Du Mont Blanc (163 km race and she crushed it) and just wrapped up a month of skiing so with someone being familiar with the area that I could pick for trail recommendations (and the fact that it’s wayyyy cheaper than Switzerland) that was all it took.

day 1 cham
The building behind me is La Para but I also could have been on a completely different trail too…

I planned to only do one posting about my time in Chamonix but rather than encumber you with an insane number of photos thought I would break it down into two days for each post. I arrived Friday night after taking a shuttle from Geneva and just in time for yoga hosted by Patagonia. Normally I avoid studios (shout out to YogaGlo on my computer) but figured it would be a good way to get some stretching in for the next day. Thus, I attended my first bilingual yoga class.

day 1 waterfall .jpg
Cascade du Dard

Saturday I decided to ease into being here so only sought out a trail that was about 2 hours give or take. I went up to the Cascade du Dard and then continued on the trail to the La Para. I thought about continuing on but didn’t want to overdue it with the next few days allowing for more time on the trail.

day 1 cj.jpg

Today at the recommendation of my friend I took the trail up to the Lac Blanc. I started in Chamonix and at the recommendation of the Tourism office took the tram up the first leg (they said it would save me 3 hours of hiking and they told me to plan for a 7 hour day without the initial hike). I opted for the tram, which meant I was sweating profusely before I even got to the trail (still an abnormally high amount of anxiety in them). day 2 signage .jpg The signage is fairly good but because of my poor sense of direction I took off in the one wrong direction I could have gone and spent an hour getting up to Col Du Brevent. I back tracked (it was only about 15 minutes down if that gives you an idea of steepness) and got on the right trail.

day 2 more viewwwwwws .jpg

It was sometimes hard to focus on running though as each step offered a new view of the surrounding landscape and it was hard to contain my excitement.

day 2 running away .jpg
Running away from all my responsibilities

After passing through the last hut before Lac Blanc I had assumed I was nearing 14,000 feet elevation (later I saw I was only at 8,000-what?). My breathing felt labored, my legs were starting to retain lactic acid (is this what people deal with going to Leadville?!? Yikes!). day 2 ice with guy .jpgIt’s the only time I’ve noticeably felt the effects of the altitude but continued to scamper up the trail, hoping it would be worth it.

day 2 selfie at lac blanc.jpg
Made it!

It was, I was in complete awe that my travels allowed me to come here, my mouth was completely open as a surveyed the landscape, is this real life—EEEEEK! Major fan girl moment. How has it taken me this long to get here?!

day 2 descending .JPG
The descent wasn’t as buffed out and reminded me of the Centennial Trail in SD

I was a little low on water at this point and wasn’t sure if I would make it back without running out so instead opted to go left towards Argentiere instead of right back to Chamonix (it was still about 90 minutes down as opposed to the 3 hours it would have taken because I was not going down in the tram). Then opted for the bus, fortunately I had enough left over skittles to contain me until the bus arrived

Hoping to go up the other side tomorrow and reach De L’Aiguille.

Here are a few more photos from today- if you want access to the full 150 (probably why it took me so long to get anywhere today), I’ll send you the google photo link!

day 2 blurry .jpg

day 2 from left side .JPG

day 2 lac blanc.jpg
Lac Blanc

day 2 more trail .jpg

day 2 sound of music .jpg
You knew I was going to reenact this at some point, right?

day 2 put this one in too.jpg

day 2final views .jpg
Last views from the trail

day 2 waterfall .jpg

day 2 mountain view .jpg

day 2 better1.jpeg

And if you’ve made it this far, congratulations! To reward you here is a PSA on the use of SPF 100, it only works when applied correctly! Looks like I’ll be rocking the pantsuit the rest of the week- ha!

day 2 sunscreen.jpeg

 

 

Cathedrals and Courthouses

When I was initially packing I opted against bringing any cycling gear, thinking it wouldn’t be worth having for maybe one or two rides. I should have thought about at least packing cycling shorts.

I had some free time last Friday afternoon so wandered into a bike shop to see about renting a bike to cruise around Geneva for the next day. I opted for a fitness bike (flat bar) and asked about some routes to get out of town, it was suggested that I do the group ride on Saturday. “They’ll all have road bikes though, right?” “Yep…” “Okay, can I get a road bike.” When in Rome…errr Switzerland.

road bike.jpg
Visor for life!

I showed up the next morning thinking it would be a 90 minute ride with an hour or so coffee break. I opted against buying cycling shorts (it was hard to justify given how many I have at home) so showed up in spandex, tennis shoes, a camelbak and casual sunglasses – I was ready. Dressing like a newbie I graciously took any helpful hints that came my way, like recommendations for shifting. What instead happened was 4 hour ride with about 3,700 feet of climbing– definitely my longest ride since Leadville.  Thankfully I’ve never had saddle issues and while padded shorts would have been nice it wasn’t as terrible as I was envisioning. It was a little unnerving descending without being clipped in. I found it similar to getting into an uncomfortable yoga pose when you realize how tense you are and have to remember to breath.

I survived and even made some friends, a nice lady from Arizona who was leaving on Sunday to do some bike packing around Switzerland. We started chatting and she told me her route and I talked about riding with her for part of the way on Sunday and then turning back. We started talking with another guy who was going to do a winery tour by bike the next day and the town just happened to be on the route. We opted to ride to Nyon on Sunday and then go to the wineries with him and then figure it out.

bikes .JPG
On the way to Nyon

fountain .jpg

Switzerland has amazing bike routes all over the country with really nice signage so leaving Geneva we took route 1 over to Nyon, about 18 miles or so. A few roads I was surprised to see cars on as they weren’t very much wider than a bike path. The wine tasting was fun, I keep thinking in a few more years my palate will expand to include enjoying red wines, but most I tried weren’t terrible, and there were some great white wines. It was nice to spend the day outside of Geneva and on some desolate country roads to get to the various wineries. We ended up spending most of the afternoon cruising around and when the time came I opted for the train back so I wouldn’t have to ride alone into the dark (your welcome, Mom).

chateau .JPG
This was at one of the wineries and someone mentioned it’s for sale!

winery tour .jpg

The next day was a national holiday, which I didn’t find out until Friday otherwise might have tried to plan a bit more. After spending two days on the bike without a chamois wasn’t sure I was up for a third. Fortunately I have a friend who is a pro-traveler and I was texting her Monday morning about how everything was shut down. She suggested going to the train station if I wanted to get coffee and upon my arrival there was so tempted to buy a ticket on the next train out. The first place that pulled up was Lausanne and recognizing it as a recommended place to see and feeling a little serendipitous bought the ticket and took off for the day. I didn’t even bring a sweater because I had no thoughts when I was leaving the hotel that I wouldn’t be back in 20 minutes.

I’m glad I went even with most of the shops closed for the holiday it was still a gorgeous town to walk around in. church.jpg Fortunately the Cathedral of Notre Dame of Lausanne was open. It was consecrated in 1275! church2

It even has a lookout which is open. I read that the lookout has been open since 1405, walking up the concrete steps they were certainly worn from where people had walked.

view from church .JPG
From the lookout tower

I was also able to see the Federal Supreme Court of Switzerland, which was shut down for the holiday but still impressive from the outside no less. I’m sure the habits of visiting churches and court houses stems from trips I took as a child but I like to think they complement each other well, as my dad says, “you get law in this life and justice in the next.”

supreme court.jpg
Federal Supreme Court

supreme court2.jpg
Law Justice Peace

This weekend I was able to take a few extra days and I’m headed to Chamonix, France. Hoping Get some trail running in and pick up some dirt for my soul.

Here are a few more photos I picked up

flowers
On our bike tour

luasanne
Lausanne from a dock in the lake

tennis shoes.JPG
New biking gear! haha

lake from luasanne.jpg
By the water in Lausanne

more castles .jpg

view on the lake .JPG
Another view of the lake from Lausanne