Many of you are aware of my love for cats. We chose early on in our married life to not have children; therefore, I have filled that void with 4-legged hairy creatures instead. We now have 5 cats, with the 2 newest additions having been adopted last August (much to my surprise when I came home from an out-of-town conference).
Let me introduce you to a couple of my pals: Ziggy aka Tony Ma-Rony (L) and Wilson (R). They are 2 of 5 black cats who call my house "Kitty Nirvana."
We were afforded some absolutely spectacular views!
I had to get up at 4:30 to be at Karen’s house by 6:00. We had about a 1 ½ to 2 hour drive ahead of us, and we were on the trail by 8:45. There were three of us: me, my friend, Karen, and our coach, Bill. For about the first ½ hour or so, we were plagued with bugs and flies attacking us, but once we started climbing in elevation, they went away. Prior to that, it felt like they were trying to invade every open orifice. It was very irritating. Also, it wasn’t long before we felt the affects of going up in altitude and the weight of our packs. We had each filled our bladders to capacity (60 to 72 oz), and were carrying a little bit of extra “food” and some emergency supplies, just in case.
A month or so earlier, Coach Bill (as we affectionately call him) had given each of us one of those cooling bandanas. Those things turned out to be a blessing in disguise! If you don’t know what they are, they are a bandana shaped in a triangle with a piece of chammy cloth in it, and have a slit at one side. You can either just wet them down and tie them around your neck, or you can fill them with ice, put the chammy side to your neck, and as the ice melts, it keeps you nice and cool. It wasn’t long before we soaked ours and began using them. They made a HUGE difference with regard to keeping us as cool as possible, and Karen and I kept commenting on how wonderful they were. If you run in the heat, I HIGHLY recommend these things.
I had been to the lower portion of the Trinity Alps a couple of times, but it had been well over 10 years. Karen and Bill had never been to there. The trees and vegetation soon thinned enough that we began being afforded wonderful views of the Alps, which are truly awe-inspiring. Their make-up is mostly of granite, and the jagged formations that are made as the granite is chipped away is incredible. Words can’t describe the beauty. Bill and Karen, especially Karen, just kept commenting on what an awesome sight it was. You’d come around a corner and there in front of you would be another grand view granite peaks rising 6,000 feet plus above your head. Absolutely incredible.
Due to the rise in elevation and some pretty hazardous footing, most of the climb up was hiking, with running interspersed here and there. We were constantly reminding each other to eat and drink, ‘cause if your body failed out there, it’d be quite the feat getting search and rescue to you. After a few hours of climbing, we soon passed the tree line and popped out onto massive amounts of granite: boulders, slabs, rocky pathways. The trail markings at that point consisted of rocks piled in stacks of 3 or 4. Sometimes we had to look around for the next pile to ensure we were on the right path. There was quite a bit of climbing up and over slabs of granite, and again, the altitude was a factor, but didn’t slow us down a whole lot.
We had begun wondering how close we were to the lake when Bill says, “I see water!” and there it was! This lake was absolutely stunning. Clear, deep water. Granite peaks rising right above our heads. It was an absolutely magnificent site. And standing there, we realized, those peaks right above our heads - those are the ones we had been pointing out waaaaay down below. And now we’re standing right under them! We had climbed to approximately 6,000 feet, traversing grades that were at times 17% to 19%. I couldn’t help but comment that merely a year ago, I could not have seen myself making such a climb. At least not without feeling like I was going to die. There 4 or 5 other people up there, but we were all spaced far enough away from one another that we didn’t infringe on anyone’s solitude.
We refilled our water bladders and sat around for about half an hour or so until the purifying pills took affect. I stood in the water for most of that time cooling off my tootsies. When it was time to go, we all changed into dry socks, soaked our bandanas, I soaked my shirt and hat, and we were off. We had given ourselves a set time to head back out so that we didn’t get caught in the dark. We were well ahead of schedule, so we decided to climb a little bit further “just to see.” Well, we hadn’t gone far when Bill said, “There’s more water!” What? We thought there were only two lakes: the one we were at and one about a mile farther that was suppose to be fairly difficult to get to. Turns out there are two lower ones and then the upper, hard-to-get-to one.
At this second lake, there were a couple of guys fly fishing, way down to the right, we could see three or four people camping . . . . and two naked guys sitting at the lake’s edge. This wasn’t as pleasant a site as I had hoped for when Karen said, “Hey, there’s two naked guys.” She tried to get a picture, but after I saw what I saw, I think I’ll burn the picture.
It’s from this lake that you can take off and try to scramble over cliffs and crevices to get to the third lake. It would’ve been a fun adventure to try, but we didn’t have the time. However, we decided to go along the edge as far as we could, and Bill and I took off at a jog since it wasn’t too rocky. We hadn’t gone very far when we heard, “Leslie! Come back here!” We started back, and here comes Karen sort of limping. “Something stung me in the a$$!” What? Karen’s allergic to bee stings and carries an epipen. This quickened our pulse a little bit. We go running back - - well, Karen has on these colorful running tights - - something stung her just below her right butt cheek and left a stinger! Must've thought she was a flower! Every time she tried to take a step, her tights pulled the stinger. So here we are, I'm kneeling behind her with the back of her pants pulled down trying to find the spot. (I did, 'cause she yelled when my fingernail passed over the stinger). Bill's trying to be polite and keep his head turned, I say, "Whatever you do, don't pass gas," we're laughing so hard I can barely work on the stinger, and some guy starts coming up the trail at us. So Karen and I move off to the side, but she can't pull her tights back up 'cause of the stinger. The guy's limping 'cause he twisted his ankle pretty bad, so he's not moving very fast. And to top it off, he’s kind of curious about what’s going on. I’m thinking, Dude, please just get by us! Once he did, I went to work on the stinger with some tweezers Bill had in his trusty Leatherman, and Voila! I got it! Karen never experienced any shortness of breath, so we have no idea what got her.
At that point, we decide to head out and caught up real quick with Limper Dude. He was camped at the lower lake and was suppose to leave the next day. We politely asked if there was anything we could do to help him, and he says, "Actually there is. There's something you can carry out for me." His 5-lb. beer cooler! What?!? Karen - be she ever so tactful - says, "Sorry. We're running. That just wouldn't be possible." Good luck, though!
The trip out was much quicker than the trip in. It’s always easier to run downhill! There were still a lot of rocks, boulders, etc., we had to climb over or run over, so easy does it was the name of the game. By that time, though, my stomach was sort of nauseous from eating mostly Clif bars, shot blocks, and having the GU2O in my water, so I was moving a bit slower. Bill and Karen pretty much left me in the dust. They’d get a certain distance ahead of me, then wait for me to catch up. Personally, I think they did it so that they could have rest time, ‘cause I would barely catch up with them and they’d be off again. ;o)
At the every end, I was by myself for a good distance. The footing was easy, but my legs were getting tired and, even though a detour into the woods helped relieve some of my stomach discomfort, it still wasn’t 100% . I reverted to singing out loud to myself for motivation to keep running, and stopped at the last water crossing and just stood in the water for a few minutes to cool off my feet. I have figured out that my trail shoes are too small, because coming downhill, my toes were crammed up into the toe box and towards the end were getting pretty sore. The cold water felt like heaven. I finally rounded a corner, and there were Karen and Bill, sitting on a log waiting for me. They were yelling at me like I was crossing a finish line and telling me, “Smile for the camera!” It was a hoot.
Karen had the trunk of the car popped open before we even got to it, and the first thing I did was chug down half a big bottle of ice cold water. OMG! I don’t think pure, cold water has ever tasted to good! No additive, no iodine taste (from purifying). Just plain cold water! YUM-MEE!
We changed clothes and headed home, stopping in Willow Creek to scarf down burgers and fries, hoping our odiferous bodies didn’t offend anyone sitting nearby. I have to figure out other easy, non-sweet, foods to carry besides Clif bars, ‘cause I got to the point where I absolutely could not chew up and swallow one more bit of bar. Yuck! I tell ya what, that burger and fries were like manna from heaven!
Not only was this the longest run (okay, hike/run) I’ve done to date, but it was the first time I’d done a run longer than 16.6 miles that was simply for the joy of trail running. No training, no race. Just pure fun. We had an absolute blast and I’m ready to go again at any time!
If you’re ever in this area, I cannot recommend enough that you give this trail a try. It is truly a spectacular place.
My self-imposed time limit for this race: 4 hours. Did I make it? We’ll see.
My running buddy, Karen, and I took off about 8:15 Saturday morning for the 4-hour or so drive to Santa Rosa, stopped for the obligatory coffee and bagel before heading out of town, one restroom break down the road, and didn’t stop again until we hit Hank’s Creekside Café in Santa Rosa sometime after 12:00, where we ate like little pigs. I guess we were hungry! BTW - If you’re ever in Santa Rosa, you have to check this place out. I heard about them on FoodTV. Fantastic cinnamon walnut French toast! YUM-MEE! And Karen’s pancakes were quite edible, too.
With full tummies and some cash burning holes in our wallets, we set out to find Fleet Feet. I was curious about how a gait analysis was done. Well, the sales guy (young and quite a cutie) had me run on this short "track" in the store, told me which shoes he thought would be best (not as scientific and engrossing as I had imagined), and, a couple of other items and $125 lighter, I left the store with a new pair of trail shoes that are an entire size larger than what I’ve been wearing. (Side Note: Needed the larger size ‘cause I have a pair of custom orthotics that I had resurfaced with thicker padding, and they and my feet won’t fit in my old shoes. I must say, the extra cush feels good!)
After Fleet Feet, we did some more "necessary shopping," (you just gotta love Trader Joe’s!), headed west toward Jenner, then north to Fort Ross. The drive from Santa Rosa to Jenner is nice, and the drive up 101 on the coast is always beautiful; however, when I’m a passenger on windy roads, I’m prone to car sickness. I think I may have turned a little green at one point, ‘cause Karen rolled my window down and appeared to have a look of "You’re not gonna throw up in my car." Of course not! It’s just that the French toast, coffee, bagel, chips, carrots - they’re a little unhappy at the moment . . . but do you have a barf bag, just in case?? 
Once we got to Fort Ross, we went looking for the starting point of the race, which was Gerstle Campground. We got out of the car and WHAM! The wind was blowing so hard, you felt like it was going to lift you off the ground. But what a sight! Spread out before us was a totally unobstructed view of the Pacific Ocean, complete with a rock full of sea lions . . . who we couldn’t hear barking
because the wind was blowing the sound away from us. Little did we know how much inspiration that sight would bring us the next day.
After finding our hotel (Fort Ross Lodge - very nice proprietors), we settled down to plates full of my rice goulash, Karen’s refreshing fruit salad, and chunks French bread, followed by PJ’s and a bizarre - but very good - movie, "Requiem for a Dream." (For the record, Ellen Bernstyn is fantastic in this movie.) Alas, we had to forego the wine that would have been a perfect compliment to the meal and settled for what else but refreshing water!
At bedtime, there was some debate about when we should get to the campground the next morning. I preferred to err on the side of caution and get there early so we’d be assured of close parking. As it turns out, by the time we got there around 7:30, the lot was more than half full. Karen, bless her little heart, has graciously agreed to listen to me on this point in the future . . . . now if only I could get my husband to listen to me . . . but I digress. Before leaving for the run Sunday morning, we did the obligatory wait-around-and-pray-for-movement scene. And just in case you’re waitin’ with bated breath of over this - things moved along quite well, thank you very much!
(My running buddy, Karen) Once we checked in at the run site, there was little else to do but hang out and wait for the start. We did, however, meet one other lady from our area, and I hope we meet up again at future runs. Wendell (he and his wife, Sarah, run the PCTRs) gave everyone a pre-starting gun pep talk and reminded us about following the correct color of ribbons (lest you 26k and 11k people want to do the 50k!) and watching for turn indicators. He also announced that of the 150 participants, 9 were doing the 50k, about half of whom were attempting their first ultra. How exciting! The countdown began and we were off!
Karen and I had decided to start toward the back of the pack so as not to get carried away with ourselves and the excitement and expend too much energy at the beginning. We had only gone a few steps, however, when a guy in front of us stepped in a hole in the road and appeared to twist his ankle pretty bad. I have no idea if he continued, but an injury right out of the chute - not the best way to start one’s day. Not far up the paved/graveled road, we took left-hand turn and hooray! Trail! (Me!)
Soon we were on single path trails, pushing through low bushes, stepping over roots and rocks, gingerly climbing over a downed tree (which, on the second go-around, would add insult to tired bodies), then facing the treaded climb. Looking back, I wished I had thought to time our climb up this monster ‘cause it seemed never-ending. However, we did our best to slog/walk the thing with Karen commenting, "You realize we have to climb this again." Ugh!
Suffice to say, we were oh so happy when we popped out at the top onto a prairie. And we knew it was a prairie ‘cause not only had Wendell mentioned the prairie as the marker where the respective "K’s" split, but there was a sign that said, "Prairie." See, we may just be smarter than we look!
From this point on, we had off and on contact with other runners, including a few 50kers who were only halfway through their run. We met up with a gentleman named Ken from Livermore who was with us for most of the hike up the Monster Hill. To paraphrase him and how we were feeling at the time, "I’m in my 40's but my brain thinks I’m still 25. My body is winning the argument."
By the time we crested the top and the prairie again, I knew this last leg was going to be hard for me.
I had been trying very hard to monitor my fluid and fuel intake throughout the run. However, due to a misunderstanding on my part of recommendations by my coach, I was getting depleted of electrolytes, etc. My legs, especially my thighs and hamstrings, were really beginning to ache and were h-e-a-v-y, but it was easier to run than walk. Karen was getting tired, but was still feeling good. We wound our way around the Prairie, headed back into the forest, and then down the hill with Karen leading the way. At points where the trail steepened, I would zig-zag my way from side-to-side, trying to alleviate some of the pressure on my quads. At one point, Karen stopped at a trail sign and said, "It’s the pygmy forest!" I told her if I stopped, I’d never get going again. Let’s keep on movin’! 
She slowly pulled away from me at this point (good for her!), and I pretty much concentrated on keeping a forward momentum going.
When I finally popped out at the bottom and reached the bluffs again, there was no question in my mind that I would make it. I was slogging along through the high grasses toward the edge of the bluff when I looked up and there was Karen, waiting for me. What a gal! She asked how I was doing, and I think my comment was, "I just want to get this over with." She stayed with me almost the entire rest of the way, but pulled ahead of me once we reached the parking lot, which was "within spitting distance" of the finish line. It was at this point that I looked at my Garmin and realized that I had about two minutes if I wanted to reach the finish within my self-imposed time limit. I tried to pick up the pace, had to walk a few feet up the last climb, then ran as fast as my legs would go, finishing in . . . . . 4:00:06.
Once we stopped, the results of my misunderstanding regarding fluid, etc., hit me. I have a benign tremor on my left side that is exacerbated under certain circumstances. Well, guess what? I started shaking a good bit, at which point the "mom" in Karen kicked in. "Sit down. You need fuel." She brought me cup and after cup of HEED and a couple of hand-fulls of food, all of which after about 15 minutes worked their magic. Thanks, Karen!Tired, but happy, we had our picture taken at the finish line, trudged back to the parking lot, hit the lodge for a quick shower, then started on the 5+ hour drive home.
Salt Point was my longest run to date, and what a time we had! Both of us were sore and stiff the next day, but agreed that we definitely want to do this run again. As for me, for the first time in my life I’m pushing myself past my comfort zones, relishing the sense of accomplishment, and looking forward with great anticipation to my next milestone.
