I knew it was imperative to hit the trails Sunday for a dreaded 14 mile run; especially after being held prisoner by the snowstorm on Saturday.
I dutifully loaded up the camel pack Sunday morning with cliff bars, and 3 liters of water. It was not warm outside by any stretch, and before making the 70 mile drive to Shenandoah National Park, I had a work out scraping snow and ice from my windshield. Going into it I knew this day would make or break the training. This was going to be a litmus test to see if I had what it took for a 50k trail run. This was the first time trying anything this extreme during my training. This is a crazy distance to be running in inclement weather and on an unfamiliar trail.
During the drive to Shenandoah I was struggling with doubts mixed with excitement...I was unfamiliar with the trail I would be running, and because of the snow and ice I had no idea what condition it would be in. Not to mention an irrational fear of being devoured by bears looking for their last big meal before hibernation.
(Scraping ice)
(Scraping ice)
I arrived at the park later than hoped. The ranger at the Front Royal entrance curtly told me the main road was closed due to ice and snow. The trailhead I was enroute to was many miles into the park, and I had to rethink my strategy quick... I wasn't deterred, I kept on the ranger with questions about alternate trails to reach the 14 mile goal. She was short with me and rather incredulous of my intentions to run that distance through snowy trails up into the mountains. I did my best to assure her of my sanity (though unassured myself), and then left to park my jeep with only scant info about Dickey Ridge trail (a 2000' + elevation climb into the mountains overlooking Shenandoah valley). Honestly, this was the first NP ranger I had ever met that didn't go out of their way to be helpful, especially with an annual pass holder... but I didn't let it bother me too much, I was on a mission.
After parking the Jeep, I chanced upon a more than helpful intrepid hiker and alpine skiier who went out of his way to get me situated with the trail. And he filled my head with ideas for other trail runs in the area, and gave me a rundown of Dickey Ridge trail, as well as much encouragement for the adventure ahead. I would have to run 7 miles deep and then double back. I texted some friends, letting them know what I was up to in case I happened to fall into danger along the way. With a crude trail map, I set off up into the hills. The first five miles were comprised of steep uphill climbs, with the snowy trails less and less compact and more and more powdery as they led to more remote and less trodden areas. The first few miles were fairly manageable, but the deeper snow required much more energy. The snow also concealed hidden rocks and fallen branches along the trail, posing a real risk of a sprained ankle or worse. I was lucky to avoid injury, but was also humbled by several near slips that could have done me in.
Huffing and puffing up the trail I saw a large doe at 5.5 miles up. My mind reached for my camera, but before the thought became an action, the deer quickly and gracefully bounded off into the leafless woods. Spotting the deer energized me somehow. It provided some spiritual upliftment to see one of nature's most graceful runners in its natural habitat. I picked up my pace considerably for the next mile just thinking about it. My thoughts moved briefly to something I had read recently on "persistence hunting" a method used in our early human ancestry to hunt which took advantage of superior endurance to run down prey to the point of exhaustion. It's always motivating to remember on these long distance runs that we're tapping into an evolutionary advantage that allowed us to survive a long time ago. Persistence hunting is still practiced among a few indigenous tribes today (see wiki link below). I thought in vain about reassuring the deer I prefered a vegetarian diet, and was happy with my cliff bars (to my knowledge there isn't a venison flavor cliff bar).
The vistas of the valley below were gorgeous, and combined with the runners high and mountain air I was feeling on top of the world, but at the same time cautioned by the cold as more and more sweat accumulated and didn't wick away fast enough. I worried whether I could keep warm long enough to stave off hypothermia, but figured as long as I kept my body working hard and supplied with carbs, I could maintain the energy to produce enough heat.
(After 5 miles of climbing, looking out to the valley below)
The last mile into the trail before doubling back was fast, moving gently and not so gently at times downhill. The views were amazing, and I didn't want to stop. It felt great to go fast down hill after the long slog through the snow uphill. Then the sudden realization kicked in that the sun wouldn't be up forever, and then temperatures were falling and would dip far below freezing. I was feeling a little delirious, and worried. I turned back and struggled up a mile of hills before reaching the long descent back down to the Jeep. The fear of contracting hypothermia was dogging me on the way down as the temperatures got colder, and water supplies were getting low. The thought of the short tempered park ranger sending a rescue team in after me kept me going strong. The last big scare was a severe muscle cramp in my right leg a quarter mile away from the trailhead. I hobbled on it a bit, drank some water and was good to go. I was high on life after finishing, and the only danger now would be staying awake for the drive home.
Links:
Shenandoah National Park:
More info on persistence hunting:
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