A Week on the AT

Some time last year I received a phone call from my father. My nephew S and he were driving around in North Carolina doing some sight-seeing in the Appalachians, and they had hiked to the top of one of the balds [1] out there. "You and S ought to come out here and do some hiking on the Appalachian Trail," he said.

"I'm in!" (I don't take a lot of convincing when it comes to invitations to adventure.)

I spent the winter doing research and planning the trip. S is attending university in Kentucky, so in addition to taking the weather into consideration, we had to schedule a time when he would not be in class. The break between Spring and Summer semesters offered the perfect time to make it happen.

My dad offered to provide logistics, ferrying us to the trail, after which he would stay in the town of Hot Springs, NC - at least until after we passed through - and then pick us up when we were done.

The goal was to spend one week on the trail, hoping to covering about 100 miles from Waterville School Road to Erwin, TN. Based on the mileage I was covering on my day hikes, that sounded attainable. Circumstances didn't entirely allow for it, but we did 77 miles (124 km), which we felt was pretty good. We put in on Sunday, May 20th, 2012, and left the trail on Saturday, May 26th.

Day 1: S and J, about to set out from Waterville School Road

This was my longest backpacking trip to date, and the first for S. It was absolutely amazing, and I think we both came away with a lot of good knowledge and experience and the inspiration to do more of it. A recount of the hike would be tedious, but here are a few things that I learned along the way.

The AT is a community

Upon setting foot on the trail, we were instantly immersed in a community of hikers. There were people from all parts of the country, from all walks of life, and with all sorts of goals. But we were bound together by the thread of the trail which wound its way through the forests and over the mountains of the Appalachians.

The AT must be one of the most heavily-traveled backcountry trails in the nation. We frequently hiked for several hours without seeing anyone, but there were always a few neighbors when we stopped at shelters for the night. We frequently found ourselves camping with the same folks for two or three nights in a row.

I've heard people say that they would enjoy hiking the AT, but would be unwilling to do it alone. My experience was that you're never really alone out there. They say that if you run into any kind of trouble, the best piece of equipment you can have is a deck of cards. That way you can keep yourself entertained while waiting for the next passer-by.

Day 5: A lush view from White Rock Cliff

Shelters are nice

The AT has shelters set up every 5 to 8 miles or so for housing hikers. We opted not to actually sleep in any of them, but we mostly camped next to them. The shelters of the AT are notorious for being visited by mice, and they lack any kind of shield from insects. But they have some nice peripheral features such as water sources, privies, picnic tables, and cables for suspending food out of reach of the local wildlife [2]. And they all had sites for pitching tents.

Day 3: Early morning at our camp site at Walnut Mountain Shelter

The only night we slept at an isolated camp site was on day 4. We had planned to bypass Spring Mountain shelter to get in a few extra miles, but found ourselves in a torrential downpour shortly after doing so. Had we known that it would rain that hard, we would have stayed in the shelter.

Go light

I've read plenty of times that carrying less weight will do more for your enjoyment of a backpacking trip than could be gained from most extra recreational items you might want to bring. This proved to be more true than I'd imagined. Especially with my plantar fasciitis giving me grief.

We heard many tales of through-hikers who had to jettison gear in the first days of their hike. One guy said he had to give a nice fishing rod away to somebody at a trail head parking lot. Another said he was given a samurai sword in exchange for cigarettes on some Georgia mountain top. Fortunately, meeting Dad in Hot Springs at the end of day 3 gave us an opportunity to drop some weight without losing anything permanently.

Day 4: Hot Springs, NC, and the French Broad River

Having the official AT map and guide book for our area was essential. But if I'd been thinking ahead, I would have transcribed or photo-copied the pages from the guide book for the sections we were hiking and left the book itself at home. That would have saved a fair amount of weight and bulk.

I hit the trail with three different knives! I had my Swiss Army pocketknife, a Leatherman, and a larger camp/bushcraft knife. When we met up with my dad in Hot Springs, I left all but the pocketknife with him. I would gladly have traded my 4-piece eating/cooking utensil set for one titanium spork. I also started out with a rain jacket, rain pants, and a warm puffy jacket. After HS, I just carried the rain jacket and used it during the chilly hours of the morning.

My DSLR camera didn't make the cut either. Photos from the second half of the trip were taken with my phone. Incidentally, I took more pictures that way than I did with the big camera simply because it was more convenient. A good compact point-and-shoot would have been the best option.

I can't go camping (nor otherwise get to sleep) without a book to read. This time it was book 1 of The Mongoliad, a collaborative work by several authors, including Neal Stephenson and Greg Bear. By the time I got home, I was well on my way to finishing it. But much of that progress was made on the return flight. I could have gotten by with a much smaller, lighter book on the trail.

Do your homework

As a vegan, I've become accustomed to mistrusting the availability of food at most small stores and restaurants. So I hit the trail with a full week's worth of food in my pack. It was by far the heaviest part of my load. If I'd known more about Hot Springs, I could have carried far less and resupplied half-way through the hike. Hot Springs has a Dollar General store with a good enough selection for most hikers. And there is a store which specializes in backpacking food where I could have gotten additional vegan items.

With a bit of research, I could probably also have figured out that much of the sun protection equipment I had with me was superfluous. I know it's part of the 10 Essentials, but the hat, sunglasses, and sunblock were all unnecessary beneath the canopy of trees that shades the vast majority of the miles through this region.

Tap water sucks

I'm not usually a water snob. And to be honest, my sense of smell and taste are usually pretty dull. But after a week without carbon monoxide or Sriracha, a week of drawing water from mountain streams and springs, civilization smelled pretty bad. Granted, I wasn't smelling like a bouquet of flowers, but at least it was a natural smell. After getting to a hotel room and showering, I was walking around in this choking cloud of perfumed soap fumes that I could almost see.

And the tap water... I can't believe how bad it was. It smelled of chlorine and made my tongue and the roof of my mouth go numb. 

Good stories don't always happen on the trail

Though he never set foot on the trail, my dad came away from the trip with plenty of good experiences and stories as well.

Within a few minutes of being on the trail, a woman passed by us going the opposite direction with her arm in a makeshift sling. The man with her said he believed her wrist was either broken or badly sprained. They were making for the Standing Bear hostel just up the road from where we were dropped off. My father had gone up there to kill some time, so he ended up giving her a ride to the nearest hospital, some 30 miles away.

During his time in Hot Springs, Dad hung out at the diner and other hiker haunts, talked to folks who were passing through, and gave some guys a ride when they needed it. He thoroughly enjoyed himself. And he also took in a soak in the mineral springs for which the town is named, followed by a massage.

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[1] In the Appalachians, a bald is a mountain top whose summit is clear of trees. This isn't due to elevation, as would be the case here in the Rockies, but the exact cause isn't well understood. We saw signage which suggested it was done by Indians to aid in their hunting. See http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Appalachian_balds

[2] The Walnut Mountain shelter lacked a picnic table, and the privy was full to the point of unusability. Jerry Cabin Shelter had no privy. All of the other shelters we stayed at had those features.

Planter Fasciitis

There was no flinching and no thought of giving in; and by what seemed almost a miracle to those outside these Islands, though we ourselves never doubted it, we now find ourselves in a position where I say that we can be sure that we have only to persevere to conquer.

-- Winston Churchill

I've always been somewhat the opposite of a hypochondriac. My self-diagnoses tend to range from "it's nothing" to "I don't have time for that." But over the past couple of weeks, a menace has been looming in my right heel. (Can something loom from underneath?) And I seriously don't have time to be immobilized. Not right now. There are major adventure plans afoot.

Planter [sic] fasciitis [1] is a painful condition in which the bottom of one's foot - specifically the connective tissue in the heel and arch - is invaded by authoritarian peanuts. I want those little bastards to know that I shall fight on the beaches, I shall fight on the landing grounds, I shall fight in the fields and in the streets, I shall fight in the hills; I shall never surrender! [2]

But I am going to have to take it easy for the next week and pay more attention to stretching. And no more riding my bike in flip-flops.


[1] http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Plantar_fasciitis

[2] Everything I know about history and classic literature I learned from listening to Iron Maiden.

Fudge brownie oatmeal

I've mentioned in the past that I have no real desire to do a cooking blog. There are too many people out there doing way better than I could do. But posting the occasional recipe can be a fun change of pace. Especially when it's something as delicious as desert for breakfast.

I'm calling this my fudge brownie oatmeal. It's a pretty obvious recipe, so I won't pretend like it's the most original thing ever. But it tastes great and is a pretty healthy way to start off your morning.

Ingredients:

1. 1/2 cup rolled oats
2. 1 cup water
3. dash of salt
4. 2 tbsp. cocoa powder
5. 2 tbsp. blackstrap molasses
6. 1 (small) handful of walnuts, chopped
7. 1 1/2 tsp. Truvia OR 1 tbsp. raw sugar OR 1 tbsp. maple syrup. Adjust to taste.
8. About 1/4 cup almond milk

One of the reasons I'm not a good food/cooking blogger is that I'm very imprecise when I cook. The oats and water are the only things I actually measure. All other amounts are eyeballed. So just take those quantities as general guidelines.

Put all of the ingredients except the almond milk into a microwave-safe bowl. Mix it up as well as you can and microwave on high for 3:30 [1].

After cooking, stir it some more. Different oats will absorb different amounts of water, but this usually turns out pretty thick for me. If it seems a little watery, let it sit for a minute to thicken. Then add just enough almond milk to give it a nice smooth texture.

This decadent bowl of yumminess has lots of good things going for it.

The oats provide about 5 grams of protein and 4 grams of fiber. There's a healthy dose of calcium and iron, thanks to the molasses. The walnuts give you Omega 3 fatty acids, along with a number of other antioxidants and vitamins. The cocoa powder gives you another dose of antioxidants.

This recipe is vegan and, if you use the right kind of oats, gluten-free. With a stevia-based sweetener, the total calorie count comes in around 400 kcal. Oats and walnuts are best bought in bulk at your local health food store. I think we pay about $1 and $10 per pound, respectively, at Sunflower.

[1] Cook for 3:30 if your microwave has a quick-start feature that makes it easy. Otherwise, you'll save valuable effort by cooking for 3:33. It's easier to push the same button 3 times than to have to search all over the touch pad for that zero. I think I learned this trick from my old friend Kai, but it's been many years ago, and my memory is imperfect.

Adventuring with Kids

My kids at an age right now where it's a little tricky to include them in many of my outdoor adventures. They're too old to be carried in one of those baby-hauling backpacks, and they're too young to hike all day and put in big miles. But they're also at a crucial formative stage where they're building memories and gaining experiences which will help determine the kind of people they will grow to be. So I sometimes try to forgo my longer treks and plan something we can all do together.

Last week was National Park Week (9 days, actually), where all of the US National Parks had free admission. It was a perfect opportunity to load the family up to visit some places in the Rocky Mountain National Park that I don't get to very often.

Bringing kids along on a hike can be a lot of fun. It gives you a chance to experience the outdoors through a fresh set of eyes, as well as an opportunity to show off and pass on some of the backcountry wisdom that has been accumulating in your mind when you're out there alone. All it takes is a little forethought and planning, and everyone will have a great time.

On the Bierstadt Lake trail, RMNP, 2012-04-22

0. Be prepared.

Going out with children isn't all that different from going solo or with other adults, but there are some extra things you'll have to take along.

Plan to have a picnic while you're out. Kids aren't as good at postponing meals when you're on the trail. Also bring plenty of extra snacks help keep their energy levels up. These can also serve as motivators. Bring some wet wipes for clean-up.

Diapers and/or toilet paper are also an important consideration. Children are often unaware of their bodily needs until they're reaching the crisis stage. The chances of making it back to the trail head in time for a number 2 is pretty slim. Bring a large zip-sealed freezer bag to pack out any trash and waste.

Hiking toward Copeland Falls, RMNP, 2012-04-29

I have a bad habit of paying too little attention to the practical implications of what my 6-year-old daughter is wearing. On an ordinary day, that's fine. I'm happy to let her pick out her own outfits for school, and it's a delight to see what she comes up with sometimes. But we've been on a couple of hikes where I've failed to notice the shiny black slippers she has on her feet until after we've started hiking. This is an area in which I'm trying to improve.

Extra jackets and socks are always a good idea, too.

1. Scale it back a bit.

When you're used to going it alone, it's easy to forget what kind of physical limitations little ones are working with. So it's better to err on the side of caution and have fun than to be too ambitious and make everyone have a bad time.

This probably means forgetting about that favorite trail you've been dying to share with your family. It probably means car camping instead of backpacking. It probably also means keeping the trip close to home. Nothing kills excitement like a two-hour drive to get to the trail.

But it doesn't have to mean boring. Be creative when choosing a location, and the kids' excitement will be infectious.

F and friends near Copeland Falls, Wild Basin, RMNP, 2012-04-29

2. Have a goal.

Having some kind of goal for the outing - something that gets everyone excited and motivated - can work wonders. It might just be a great picnic spot, or it might be a mountain lake or a waterfall. I wouldn't count on the promise of spectacular views from a mountain top working out for my kids. I think it takes a long time of seeing the same old stuff every day before you really start to appreciate those kinds of rare moments.

Playing and making friends at Bierstadt Lake, RMNP, 2012-04-22

Other kinds of goals might include identifying plants or wildlife. A bit of research before hand could yield a checklist of things to look for. Some trails or parks may have such a list ready-made.

3. Be flexible and adaptable.

The whole point of taking children out on an adventure is to let them explore and discover. Your job is to facilitate that process and help keep them safe. So try to get comfortable in that role and set your expectations accordingly. Let them stop on the side of the trail when they see something interesting, or when they need to sit and rest for a minute. In a worst-case scenario, be prepared to take that goal we talked about a second ago and throw it out the window.

There are times I've changed plans at the last minute and gone to a closer trail when the troops were starting to get mutinous. I've had to abandon hikes altogether after getting no farther than the distance between the truck and the trail because it was too windy or cold. It's better to bail out than to give your kids a bad experience. And try to stay positive about it. No good can come of making them feel like it's their fault that things didn't work out.

Flexibility isn't all bad, though. It can be impulsive. On our way to the Bierstadt Lake TH in RMNP, we drove by a large stone outcropping on the side of the road. I quickly pulled off of the road (too quickly for C's liking), and we all got out and scrambled around on the rocks for a little while. It didn't delay our hiking much, and it was one of the highlights of the trip.

F climbing in impractical shoes, RMNP, 2012-04-22

4. Heap on the encouragement and praise.

Taking children out on an adventure of any kind is a lot of fun, but it also demands more from them than they're used to. Especially at the tail end of a long hike, they feel the pressure to keep going despite their exhaustion. It frustrates them. Be sure and let them know that they're doing a great job and that you're proud of what they've accomplished. Let them know that you're glad they're there with you. If you make it rewarding for them, they will want to do it again.

The family at Bierstadt Lake, RMNP, 2012-04-22

aniVersary

One year ago, I finished reading Brendan Brazier's Thrive: The Vegan Nutrition Guide to Optimal Performance in Sports and Life and decided I was going to give a vegan diet a try. As with any nutrition book, this one made some pretty big claims, and the only way to verify them was to see for myself.

It wasn't that much of a stretch for me, really. I was already eating a pretty healthy and plant-intensive diet by that point. And I'd been toying with the idea of going vegetarian or vegan for a while. That's probably obvious, since I probably wouldn't have chosen to read that particular book otherwise.

So what started out as an experiment turned into a way of eating that I've decided I enjoy. I've been feeling better than I ever have before, and there are environmental and humanitarian benefits as well.

Here are some of my experiences from my first year of veganism.

It isn't hard. Many people expect that removing animal products from one's diet would be difficult. It really isn't that big of a deal. I eat nearly all of my meals at home or at work, so I have a lot of control over what foods I have at my disposal, and that helps. Sure, you have to pay more attention to what you buy at the grocery store or order at a restaurant. But it's probably a good idea to pay more attention to those things anyway.

And these days, there are so many options out there that you don't really miss anything. So-called plant-based food substitutes aren't going to taste exactly like their animal product counterparts. But if you forget about trying to make the comparison and enjoy the vegan foods for what they are, it's a great opportunity to enhance your culinary horizons.

It makes good choices easier. I used to struggle with the temptation to eat deserts at work that I knew I shouldn't have. Since the sweets our food service makes almost always contain dairy or eggs, I don't even have to think about it anymore. I just have a piece of fruit. There are plenty of vegan desert options out there (Whole Foods has some awesome house-made vegan chocolate chip cookies), but you generally have to make a conscious effort to seek them out. So it's easy to make those kinds of foods a special treat instead of a vice.

As for the main part of the meal, it's a no-brainer to choose healthy foods when the biggest sources of unhealthy fats are eliminated. One could still make sub-optimal choices by overdoing it on refined grains, etc., but I never feel guilty from over-indulging on vegetables. My typical lunch involves a salad of epic proportions dressed with mustard and balsamic vinegar. But I change things up, depending on what's on the menu. Today I had roasted cauliflower, sauteed greens with heirloom tomatoes and portobello mushrooms, and steamed wax beans. To me, that's a great meal.

It makes me feel great. Brazier's book claims that, among other things, a plant-based diet would reduce stress hormones in the body, increase energy levels, improve recovery time between workouts, and reduce the need for sleep by improving the quality of rest. These were the things that I wanted to verify. I don't know about my cortisol levels, but everything else seems to have been accurate.

These days, I get five days of strenuous exercise each week. I run on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays; I get a good workout on my bike on Wednesdays; and I go hiking on Sundays. Mondays and Fridays are my rest days. And while I can usually still feel the effects of my Saturday run when I'm out hiking, I never feel so fatigued that I'd rather skip any of these activities. So improved recovery time between workouts: check.

Aside from that, I bike to work daily, and I get through the day just fine with no caffeine. I do a fair job of keeping up with the kids and all the other demands of everyday life. Improved energy levels: check.

Given the compromises required between my schedule and those of the rest of my family, I have to do all of my workouts early in the morning before I take my daughter to school. That means having to wake up at 4:30 4 days a week. Lately I find myself waking up at that time on days when I don't have to. Granted, I typically go to sleep around 10:00, but I'm still firing on all cylinders with 6.5 hours of sleep per night. Compared to the 8 or more that I used to require, that's pretty good. Reduced need for sleep: check.

One unexpected side-effect of the dietary change happened within a month or two. I lost interest in drinking alcohol. I mean, I still enjoy a good beer or scotch now and then. But what had been a night cap every night has become a small glass once every few weeks. I might have a beer after a long day on the trail or when hanging out with friends (I don't get out often). But a New Belgium folly twelve-pack lasts in our fridge for months.

It is complete nutrition. People worry about whether a vegan diet can provide everything a body needs. Can you get enough protein, calcium, iron, and B12 without eating animal products? Yes, you can. In the interest of full disclosure, I do take a B12 supplement, but everything else comes from more-or-less normal food. I've had blood tests taken to check for everything that can be checked, and I'm not deficient in anything.

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A lot of people say that they come to veganism for the health benefits, but they stick with it for the ethics. Having a positive impact on the environment and taking cruelty to animals out of the food supply chain are pretty big motivators. As for me? I guess that is a major part of it too. But now that the experiment is over, I'm really sticking with my vegan diet for the super powers.


Vegan Academy - Unlocking Human Potential from Jack Sam on Vimeo.

A Better Place

The other day Jim said, "It would be really cool to be in a band that plays music that makes people happy." I'll never be in a band, but I agree that improving the lives of the people around you is a worthwhile pursuit.

Anyway, it got me thinking about music that makes me happy. When it comes to groups that are making that kind of music, I initially thought that the first obvious choice for me would be VNV Nation.



But I started thinking the whole thing over while I was out running. It occurred to me that I'm not sure their music makes me happy, per se. What it does is inspires a sense of hope that we can fight and work to make the world a better place.

Is Hope the same thing as Happiness? What is happiness, anyway?

That's quite a can of worms to be opening. I can't even begin to weigh in on the subject with an original contribution. Aristotle argued that happiness is the result of a life well-lived. As such, it isn't something that we can experience directly, but rather something that may describe a life once it is complete. It has been likened to an orchestral performance [1]: if the orchestra botches it in the final movement, the concert can hardly be called well-played. It is only a good performance once it has been completed well.

I think I mostly buy that. And if it's accurate, then the best we can do in life is work toward a happy end state. To me that means

1. Taking care of the people I love.
2. Experiencing all of the good things that I can.
3. Learn something positive from negative experiences.
4. Trying to inspire others to do these things also.

One of my core beliefs is that health, physical activity, and adventure lead to a more fulfilling existence. That's what Self-powered Life is all about.

Years ago, the slogan one would hear and read around wilderness areas was "Take only pictures, leave only footprints." But after a while, conservationists discovered that all of those footprints were wearing out our national parks and forests. So the current rallying cry is "Leave no trace." That's a pretty good policy, but we also have to undo some traces left by others. There's the odd bit of rubbish on the trail-side, dropped (I prefer to think) on accident, and it's just good citizenship to pick it up and pack it out.

I personally find litter terribly offensive. And yet in populated areas it's so common as to almost be invisible. But once you start noticing it, it can be maddening. And I've always assumed that there's some division of the municipal government that was responsible for picking it all up. But if that's the case, they're understaffed and overworked. At an intersection which I regularly pass while riding to work or running, I saw the same discarded YooHoo bottle sitting there for weeks. And the only time it moved was when it got blown off of a retaining wall and into the gutter.

So why not, I decided, bring some of the backcountry trail ethics to the urban environment? Along multi-use paths and in parks, one is seldom very far from a trash can; it is little inconvenience for a runner to snatch up a piece of trash and drop it in the nearest bin. So that is what I have resolved to do. Each time I go out running, I started cleaning up some litter along the way. I can't pick up all of it, but as they say across the pond, every little helps.

What if everyone did that? What if everyone identified some small measure that could be taken to incrementally improve our world, and then acted on it? Mahatma Gandhi said, "You must be the change you want to see in the world." I'd love to see what would happen if we all decided that we can and will make a difference to make the world a better place.

[1] Ten Philosophical Mistakes, by Mortimer Adler

Cheating on Spring

We thought we had parted ways with Winter, put it out of our thoughts as we passed idyllic afternoons in the warm company of Spring. But Winter came to town for a visit, and we went rushing back like it's some kind of bygone romantic interest that we haven't entirely put behind us.

By "we" I mean the community of outdoor enthusiasts. This weekend has seen one of Colorado's typical Spring swings that brought cold rain to the lower elevations and snow to the mountains. (Why is there never warm rain here?) For some, this weekend was one last chance to hit the slopes for a bit of skiing before we're decisively in shorts-and-t-shirt territory. For me, it was an opportunity to give a winter hike to Chasm Lake one more try.

But let me back up just a bit.

Earlier in the winter, I wrote about being turned back while attempting to reach Chasm Lake. The weather was pretty bad, the trail was completely obscured, and I wasn't adequately prepared. Last month I went back on a nice, if overcast day and made it as far as Peacock Pool. Just past the pool there is a snow field on a steep slope which I was able to traverse. But the last pitch up to the lake, also covered in snow, intimidated me enough that I decided to call it a day. I needed more gear to tackle that one.

Yesterday, while the ladies were at dance class and a birthday party, my son and I went into Denver to the Wilderness Exchange. I really like that place. It's a half-retail and half-consignment shop for outdoor equipment right around the corner from REI. While I was talking to a salesman about how to choose the right sized ice ax, M had pulled a map out of the bargain box and was showing us the route to a lake and a nearby "spooky cave." The salesman told me all about crampons and the pros and cons of aluminum vs. stainless steel. The boy and I walked out somewhat poorer but much better equipped for that icy incline that has been nagging me for the past month.

I woke up at 4:25 this morning without an alarm. I ate some steel-cut oats I'd put in the slow-cooker the night before, and was on the road an hour later. On highway 36 between Boulder and Lyons, I saw a small herd of elk, and then a herd of deer. I was driving up the South Saint Vrain canyon, just approaching the elevation line that divided the previous night's rain from snow, when the sun came up and bathed the mountains in alpenglow. It's pretty to see from a distance; it's absolutely magical to be in the middle of it.

New snow had begun to flurry by the time I reached the otherwise empty parking lot. Longs and Meeker were enshrouded in clouds. Above treeline, the snow was blowing hard enough to make me break out the goggles and balaclava. But enough snow had melted away that I was able to make out the trail reasonably well most of the time. I had told myself that it was a waste of time and energy to bring my camera gear. There would be no good views. But of course I hauled it in anyway.

Wearing my new crampons, I felt all wobbly, like a girl wearing high heels for the first time. But ice ax in hand, trying to remember everything YouTube has taught me about self-arrest, I forged through the new snow on the traverse above Peacock Pool, and finally got to climb that slope to Chasm Lake.

The wind was whipping little shards of ice all around me. I sat with my back to the lake to eat a snack before heading back toward the ranger station. I was thoroughly exhausted already, not yet recovered from a 20-mile run the previous morning. The hike out was uneventful, though the wind abated only after I had reached treeline again.

The sun broke through for a little while, and I saw other people on the trail for the first time some way below Goblins Forest. From the parking lot, Estes Cone was briefly visible. But the clouds moved back in by the time I was pulling out. I never did see Longs or Meeker, even while I was right at their base. And I didn't snap a single photograph.

I'm not entirely sure if I enjoyed it, but it was awesome.