Sticks, streams and shrunken snowfields

The Wednesday before Leadville Mom and I went with the pups, Zippy and Ruby, up to Jones Pass for a loop ridge hike (all off trail). A gorgeous day by all accounts, and our furry four-legged friends couldn't have been more delighted with their surroundings ... in fact, the area has sort of become Zippy's stomping grounds this summer, and he showed mom (me) all his favorite sticks, streams and spots ... and was only a bit dismayed to discover his favorite snowfield had significantly shrunk since his last visit, 2 weeks prior.

Conquering Crow

Running Crow Pass was the closest I’ve ever been to dreaming while I was awake. My vision focused only on the trail, and everything in the peripheral became blurred and ephemeral – in the same way a fish-eye lens distorts a photo. Time stood still and spiraled away uncontrollably. Rather than a fluid, connected, continuous sense of my being, my conscious mind beat in and out like a strobe light. Thoughts became short and staccato: “Fireweed. Root. Mud. River crossing. Water. Gu shot. Keep moving. Ladder. Steep hill. Untied shoe. Branch. Bird. Raspberry. Rock. Bridge. Whoo hoo!”

The feeling is the most insane form of sanity. It’s the razor sharp line between total freedom and bodily captivity. It’s discovering that the secret to running is not training, eating or sleeping – although those help. No, the secret to running is knowing that at any given moment you have a choice. You can either allow the full feeling of the moment to wash over and energize you, or you can succumb to the thudding pain coursing through your feet, legs, torso, arms and head. If you choose the former, you find moments of oneness with the trail and yourself ­ – and ultimately the reason for taking on 24 miles of rocky, rugged, ridged terrain.

Coming across the finish line with a time of 4 hours and 11 minutes - good enough for a fourth place finish among females. Next year it would be super cool - and doable - to shave off 11 minutes and go sub-four.

Pure elation

A hug from my neighbor and fellow runner Hugh at the finish

Hosing the mud off my legs

(A BIG THANK YOU TO DANIEL SHEPARD FOR THE PHOTOS!!!!)

Pretty peaks and cool currents

A couple of weeks ago Brad and I headed up Ram Valley - possibly my favorite place in all of the Chugach and it's in my backyard - and then dropped down the other side into the Peter's Creek drainage.

We packrafted the upper portion of Peter's Creek - before becoming exhausted from portaging through thick brush around fallen logs every five to 10 minutes. We eventually packed the rafts up and hiked the five-ish miles out back to the Peter's Creek trail head.

Peter's Creek was running swift, but shallow - creating for much more technical conditions than I had experienced on the Chickaloon River the week prior. The first little bit shook me up pretty good - I flipped the boat and wrapped around a rock in two separate incidents - all the while trying to teach Zippy that it would be a much better idea to run along the side of the river, rather than swim the rapids behind me - a concept that never completely registered.

After a break to catch my breath and get my wits about me, the remaining section of river went much, much better. I started avoiding holes, or at least hitting them nose first, and became much better and pulling up to shore and hopping out quickly enough to stop myself from washing down river.

All told, we were out for about 11 hours. The beer and Mexican cuisine afterward, at the only place open at 10:30 p.m. on a Sunday night in Eagle River, proved to be mighty delicious.

Again, many thanks go to Brad for inviting me to join him on such a spectacular excursion.

Heading up Ram

The view as we worked our way up the ridge

A closeup

Brad enjoying the blue sky day

Zippy coming to make sure I was staying up with the crew

The pups cooling off in a snow patch

Looking from the ridge down into the Peter's Creek drainage

Heading down toward Peter's Creek

Our river of choice

All smiles as we prepared to get on the current

Packrafting on the Chickaloon

A few weeks ago Brad offered to take me out packrafting. We headed out to the Chickaloon River, north of Anchorage an hour or two, for a great day on the river. We hiked up stream about eight miles, and then got out the rafts and floated back down. We encountered a few mildly technical sections - a nice challenge but still plenty navigable - and the rest was smooth sailing.

I did manage to flip on the very last rapid ... read the river wrong and nailed a hole head on. As I plunged into the chilly water, my heart beat definitely quickened its step, but my feet quickly found the shallow bottom, and my hands maintained a tight grasp on the paddle and boat. I staggered to shore and readily took Brad up on the offer to walk up stream and repeat that section of river.

Round 2: I aimed for the opening to the right of the hole and shot right though, no problem. Flipping a packraft is like you're first lead fall when climbing. Once you do it, you realize it's not all that bad (as long as you're not in a class IV or V rapid, of course).

All told, we had such a good time, we headed out for another day of packrafting the following weekend (Photos coming soon).

Many thanks go to Brad for not only lending me the gear to packraft, but willingly and patiently teaching me how to do it.

Beautiful blooms!

Brad checking out the route down to the river

Scouting the Chickaloon River

A peek at the current ahead

A beautiful blue mellow river

The rafts ready for the river

All geared up and good to go

Brad at a pullout

The view at the end of the river

38 miles, baby!

On Friday a crew of us - Ed, Mike, Karen and I - ran Resurrection Pass on the Kenai Peninsula. At 38 miles, it was officially the longest run I've ever done. It was a perfect day to be out ... a nice cloud cover, beautiful wildflowers, an impeccable trail and a great crew! It took us 8 1/2 hours to complete the crossing. Afterward we delighted in hamburgers, milkshakes, lattes and every other delicious thing we could think of available between Hope (the town we finished in) and Anchorage.

Starting out .... we're an hour or two into the run at this point

Ed

A perfect trail on perfect terrain

Karen

Great views!

Puppy is all grins when it comes to Karen's battle wounds

At this bridge we started to taste the finish

Zippy and his mamma

A 30 second photo stop from a great vantage point

A fun crew

A couple miles from the end we found an old bar stool on the trail ... Karen helped herself to a seat

The big finish! Karen, Amy, Zippy and Puppy after 38 miles on the trail.

Ed and Mike coming in for a landing.

Zippy says I'm feeling a bit tired, I think I'll rest under a tree

In the car ride home ... Zippy is zapped.