Mineral Basin or Pole Line Pass to Mutual Dell

~

...by way of Ridge Trail 157.

It's gonna happen!

Soon!

Just need a ride up to Mineral Basin or Pole Line Pass.

Or maybe we'll ride up and back on the old dirt American Fork Canyon road above Tibble Fork...

I like the Ridge Trail 157 option better.

Mineral Basin

About a hundred years or so ago, as a Boy Scout, my troop went on a hike that went long. It turned into a 50-miler or so, but it wasn't planned that way. It was a 4 or 5 day excursion (if I remember correctly) that started somewhere along the Alpine Loop, then north skirting Forest Lake, into Mineral Basin and then down American Fork Canyon by way of Silver Lake.

I haven't been up that way in quite a while.

I'd like to get up there again.

Soon.

And I may have an excuse here in the next week or so. Jerry is coming home for a bit and he's bringing his mountain bike.

Maybe he'd be up to pedaling up American Fork Canyon into Mineral Basin. Maybe even hump it up to Pittsburg Lake!

I think it would be fun!

I'm going to ask him.

Anybody done it before? How's the road?

My socks!

The aid station #7 drop bag for runner #153 was recovered! All is well!

Crazy Train?

It's just past midnight--I really ought to be in bed sleeping, but I'm not. I'm sitting in front of my computer contemplating the vicissitudes of life. They are vast. They are varied. They are to be expected. And sure as shooting, they'll almost never be just like you want 'em.

But that's not exactly true though. Generally we tend to recognize the changes in the condition of our lives when it's for the worse. If it's a good change, I think we gobble it up without really taking notice of the incredible spread laid out before us.

At least that's how it is with me.

It's a good thing we celebrate Thanksgiving once a year so we can really appreciate the good in life. The 364 remaining days tend to get cluttered up with focusing on, and bemoaning, the not-so-good.

On Saturday I turned another year older. I'd like to lay claim to being another year wiser as well, but I think I stopped wisening up at the age of 14. It was at that point (or earlier, possibly) that my brain stopped learning and applying life's lessons. And that's not to say that I don't recognize them when they're there--I see them, acknowledge them, label them, and cast them away. Dust in the wind...

But I digress.

I've come to realize the opportunities created by the crap I've stepped into (or that's been shoveled into my path).

While today has been somewhat of a struggle in trying to understand why certain trials and obstacles have come into my life, either directly or by way of my progeny or a friend or whatever (it's usually brought on directly through my ignorance and/or idiocy, but once in a while I'm actually affected and influenced by the difficulties of others); I am aware that by and through many of these difficulties, I am a slightly better person.

Sorta.

Anyways, all or my kids were over Saturday night for a birthday celebration. It's not so often that I get all 4 (+1) over at the same time. There was actually a time, not so long ago (in a galaxy far, far away), that I would have bet it would never happen again. It's good to be wrong once in a while. (I've pretty much gotten used to being wrong the rest of the time and have consoled myself to that which is and which always will be...) But there we all were. I got my camera out and everything. And guess what? I never snapped a single picture! At least I don't think I did.

Wait! I lied. I took two. Here's one of them.

This is a pic I took today of one of the birthday gifts I received.

Probably the surest sign there is that assures me that I'm old: a picture frame that identifies me as a grandpa...

At least I'm loved, eh?

And now I've completely lost my train of thought.

Have I mentioned that I have a cat?

I call him Fuzz!; and yes, the exclamation mark is part of the name.

The 2009 Squaw Peak 50-Mile Trail Run report (take 1)

Aid station 7 drop bag for runner #153 has yet to make an appearance. Anyone?

It would be a shame for me to let two pair of purloined socks sour an already painful experience. I should just let them go despite the fact that they had many more miles left in 'em... But it's hard for me to let things go.

Which brings me to the report.

2008 Squaw Peak: 15:39:07

2009 Squaw Peak: 16:20:17

That's an addition of 40+ minutes from last year--under significantly better conditions this year! What the...?

Leigh, George, and I stayed fairly close to each other during the first 26 miles without actually running hand in hand. We each shared the lead at various points until I passed Leigh on the far side of the mile 26 aid station (Left Fork). That was the last I saw of Leigh until the finish. George caught me at the mile 33 aid station (Little Valley)--he was coming in as I was heading out.

Again, it's a pretty hike from mile 33 until you get to the climb and then the scenery can go jump in the lake. All you can see is the climb. This year there was significantly less snow than last year and I seemed to have missed it altogether as I found myself atop the first climb having not even stepped in any. The climbing isn't over yet though. Less snow up top meant not having to go over the peak too. Yay!

After the Windy Pass aid station, where I vaguely remember turning on the afterburners last year, I struggled. My ankles were hurting and that knot in my calf below my right knee was back for its second year. Once I was on the pavement in South Fork I could go and the last three miles seemed to fly by.

No kids to greet me this year at the finish, but I had been posting updates on facebook with my cell phone every time I'd get cell service (3 or 4 times maybe?). It was fun to get all the comments coming back through on my cell phone in response to my updates.

Which brings me to the part where it's hard for me to let things go.

I've finished the Squaw Peak 50 twice now. I did better with the big climb this year than I did last year--despite the overall slower time. I ought to be happy with that and let it go.

Something in the back of my head says that I probably won't...

Squaw Peak 50

If you happened to be the one that picked up the aid station #7 drop bag for runner #153, it's mine! I want it back!

~7.9 miles, Battle Creek/Grove Creek--trail run

~6.15 miles, 52:55, 8:39 pace, Provo River Trail

Sapper Joe 50K

While Addi is playing the piano for a few minutes, I figure I’d better get writing a bit of a Sapper Joe 50K report. I’ve got nothing more, really, to report than has already been reported out there on the World Wide Web—just do a Google search for “Sapper Joe 50K” and you’ll find all sorts of blogs with individual reports.

Anyways, the inaugural race was held on Saturday, May 23rd out at Camp Williams. Camp Williams, being a military base, is generally closed to civilians although I’ve been out there a few times because I’ve got family in the Utah National Guard. The course took me deeper and further west and north onto the base than I’ve ever been before. Awesome views of both Salt Lake and Utah Valley’s.

The course itself was a bugger. The start sits at an elevation of about 4800 feet and by mile 4.2 we had climbed to 6430. By race end we would make two more ascents above 6600 feet—both in the second half.

Not a lot of tree cover. There was some scrub oak in the miles between 14 and 17 but the angle of the sun put what shade there was out of reach for the most part. Fortunately there was a good breeze blowing that kept me cool and some clouds blew in later that kept the temps pleasant.

I didn’t set any speed records—I didn’t intend to and don’t envision ever getting to that point—but I didn’t finish last either—46th out of 58 men.

Going into the race, I was feeling a bit fatigued from the Ogden Marathon I’d completed the Saturday before. Not a lot, but some.

My aid station times appear to be pretty consistent—3 minutes, 4 minutes, 3 minutes, and 3 minutes. They felt longer than that…

Overall, I’m pleased with the outcome. Hopefully in the next two weeks I’ll recover sufficiently to complete the Squaw Peak 50 Miler that I was fool enough to register for again this year.

Two last things of note: my Montrail Hardrock's performed admirably! I love those things. The Nathan Hydration vest (HPL #020) is too small for me, but I like the pockets on the front straps.

~31.35 miles, 7:43:05, 14:46 pace, Sapper Joe 50K