The sky is falling

The sky is falling the sky is falling!  Well no, not exactly, but it is worth shouting about.  Here in metro Atlanta we have passed peak foiliage and now the leaves are darkening the sky in the woods when the wind blows.  The floor of the forest looks, in places, like blankets of gold.  I got out late this morning for a run around 10 and managed not to see anyone for the first 4 miles of my run.  

Keep in mind this is in Atlanta!  I ran 4 miles at 10 o’clock on a Sarturday morning in fall’s perfect weather and managed not to see anyone until I reached the hooch.  I still do not understand why Atlanta gets a bad rap for not being a good ourtdoor town.  Okay maybe I do understand, once I was off the single track and down by the river, I saw no less than 200 people, but back on the singletrack I was alone again.  It’s like peek a boo for trail runners here.  

The downed leaves provide a little bit of a challenge with my depth perception more so this year since my surgery. It has not affected me too much until now other than night running.  Night running on trails is a like a different leauge after the surgery, but still manageble!  

Speaking of eye issues, there is a chance I might be candidate for a clinical trial for Eale’s disease which could possibly restore some of my vision. Woohoo!  But for now I am beyond grateful for the vision I have today and being able to see the sights today. 

Even if the sky is falling, I say “Up with Fall!”

Mystery Mountain Marathon

elevation profile etc click here

This run would be technically my first marathon, and it was my good friend Trevor’s first time to go this distance. We woke up around 5 am on Sunday to start fueling ourselves for the event. It was surprisingly easy to get out of the bed, I think mainly because we were housing 5 dogs at the time. Trevor brought his, we had our normal 3 and we have a visitor for a few months, O-dog, who is wintering in Atlanta instead of North Carolina.

We started our fueling with a few hard boiled eggs, which I think I am going to have to remove form my pre race/ long run regimen, as the thought of them right now makes me feel sick. We loaded the truck with Java in tow for the race. He was antsy on the drive up as he most likely thought he was going to spend the day in the Cohuttas instead of on a leash at an aid station, assisting Corinne, who is out currently because of a twisted morphed ankle. In spite of all that she still showed her full support by volunteering not only to drive us home but work the aid station as well.

We made it up to Ellijay in almost record time and were on the ridge top on Highway 52 in time to see the sun peak over the ridge with a golden amber that would inspire most poets to write line upon line, and may come up with something like “Nature’s first green is gold.” Oh well ponyboy back to the subject at hand, the marathon.

We arrived about 50 minutes before race time and received our race packets in record time. We suited up in our race clothes, thanked Corinne for being our chaperone for the day and volunteering for the race in general. We listened to the pre race instructions, took a pre race photo and headed to the starting line.

We started in the parking lot down at the lake for the only flat part of the course for the day, and we leap frogged a few people exchanging positions for this first mile or so and crossed a road and were greeted by the Race Director, one sicko named Janice Anderson, and the course marker Jason Rockman, who assured us we were looking good. That’s good to know, one mile in and we look ok, so far so good. Once you crossed the road any idea of the word flat was suddenly stricken from the vocabulary. The hills during this first part were not too terrible, and most of the challenges thinking about them were taken away by the overall beauty of the surroundings or talking with Trevor. The first few miles of the trail consisted of rocky, rooty, singletrack and kept you focused on the trail, but in the rare instances I would steal a view to my left, looking out over the valley of holly creek near Chatsworth it was amazing, it was like running along some panoramic shot of the Fall in Appalachia. The view was so amazing it did not seem like it was real.

After being treated to spectacular scenery we were then charged for those views on the climb up to the tower at about mile 5. This was the first time the hills had made it through my adrenaline and I was able to feel them. The feeling, well it hurt, but it hurt in that really good way. The hills kept coming and the scenery deep in the forest away from the long range view was just as good. At some point we saw a couple of deer pass by, but it was somewhere near an uphill so the sight of deer was not of my concern. What was of my concern was keeping the contents of my stomach in my stomach. I thought I had my pre race nutrition dialed in, but apparently I need to do some more lab work concerning that. I managed thanks to Trevor a couple of shot bloks and kept them in my mouth for a few miles, but could not bear to swallow them as my stomach was sending warning signals. I made it to the next aid station at about mile 7 with a half eaten shot block and I forced myself to eat some pretzels and pringles and avoid anything sweet. I got the food down, albeit with some difficulty. Trevor looked at me a few times, hoping that I would toss my cookies, as it would have upped the entertainment value for the day, but somehow I managed to hold on. For about a mile I was not so sure about the race but shortly after that battle things got good for a while. We stayed the course on rolling hills and leap frogged a few positions with people until we got to the aid station at about mile 11.

We took a look at that hill, grabbed a few gels and started our way up the hill. I call it the hill because I recently read a report about infamous hills in races like the Peachtree and how they were a big challenge to the motivation of a runner. I am not sure why this would demotivate anyone, as Trevor and I exchanged thoughts about what kind of sick person would think to throw this hill in the middle of the race. Spot on! This climb is not as ridiculous as it looks, however it is still a swift kick and it was not even the hardest climb of the day. Once you crest out you start the most ridiculous downhill along a powerline with a great view of the clear valley floor about 1200 feet below. You cruise down at this gradient for a little over a mile. My toes were attempting to escape the front of my shoes. I have never been so happy for a down hill to end in all my life. I always thought downhills were a nice diversion from the gruelling grind of a good climb, but I have found that I much prefer going uphill…  

I’ll tell the rest of the story later, but needless to say the day was spectacular and we finished 13th overall.  Not bad for a first marathon!, However the lead guys finished about an hour and 45 minutes in front of us.  I think they were on motorcycles.

 

 

 

 

I accidentally ran a marathon…

This past weekend Rinne & I headed to Jackson for my neighbor’s wedding in beautiful Mississippi.  It was a challenge giving up a fall weekend in NC or North Georgia for a trip to Jackson, but well worth it.  The service was beautiful and it was an added bonus seeing f my sister who was also able to come in from Phoenix.

According to my running schedule I needed to get a long run of 18 + miles in one day.  This can be challenging enough to find suitable trails around here for this, much less in Jackson MS, but at least it was a guarantee it would be a flat course.  I woke up early Saturday morning at my father’s house and left from there heading toward the trails of the Pearl river.

I have been playing in these woods since I was about 10, and by playing I mean doing what stupid young boys do, starting fires (on the beach of course), making little bombs, smoking cigarettes and other recreational agricultural products, drinking, going off rope swings, doing the past 3 things listed simultaneously.  I come back to visit these woods on almost every trip home and find a new appreciation for them each time.  And over the past 10 years or so it is nice to see them in a healthy manner.  The woods seem the same as they always have, except now it  just seems a shorter distance on the trails to reach the river.

I ran for about half a mile on road until I reached the entrance to the trails which was afield overgrown with tall grass, and my dry foot-ware became immediately soaked from the morning dew. Cest lavie.  I ran past points along the trail that threw my memory back in time and brought what I am sure was a stupid grin to my face.  A tornado had touched down here in the spring so the trails were not as clear as I had hoped but thanks to the ATV enthusiasts everything was easily passable.  I never thought I would be grateful for the ATV riders, but if it were not for them, none of these trails would even exist.  I kept moving at about a 7:15 pace for the first part of the run.  For me, going long distance, this is flying, I could get used to running in Mississippi.  The trails dumped me out at my old soccer fields, ( I really sucked at that sport, but had a blast playing it).

I meandered through a few neighborhoods until I could reaccess the trails along the river.  I had to back track now & again when the trail would just suddenly stop. At about mile 7 I found myself in the middle of a cypress swamp and about 20 feet of water separating the other part of the trail I was supposed to be on.  The swamp seems to be unaware of the drought going on around the Southeast.  I walked up about 30 feet and crossed the water on a beaver dam, where from the looks of it some deer had had the same idea.

Kermit in swamp

In my mind I was completely expecting to see Kermit the frog here, but he made no appearance, which is just as well as I am not fond of hearing banjo music when I am in the woods.  (Mental note, must sneak the duelling banjos tune on a trail runner’s ipod).  After the swamp crossing, a mile or so more through the woods, I made it to an aid station (translation convenience store) and loaded down on Pringles, Gatorade and more water.  Life is a bowl of cherries. I crossed a bridge to get over the river, and my plan was to head back upstream on the Pearl river on trails the whole way to the Reservoir, that was my plan anyway.  I headed back into the woods and was on great single track for a mile or two and crossed some ladder bridges over a creek, and was soon on fairly well maintained gravel roads on the edge of pine forests.  I had seen this area from google maps which meant I was on course for 18-20 miles.  What google maps did not point out, was this was private land.  I figured it was a hunting camp of some kind, and the deer stands on the edge of the forest with steps up to them affirmed my hunch.  I knew it was not season, so I figured it was allgood. The road was very straight and I could see a T intersection ahead, and I had my eyes set on it for what seemed to be 15 minutes, and when I was about a 100 yards from the intersection I saw a large white F-350 cruise by.  Uh oh.

As I made it to the intersection, I could see the truck making its way toward me at a high velocity in reverse. Ok, I thought this is going to be intereseting. The man driving the truck rolled down the window and his first words were “you’re not from round here are you?”  I already knew the answer to this question, “hell, no, I’m lost as I can be.”  This nice older gentleman who was obviously not too thrilled to see me on his private hunting grounds gave me a small lecture  about private property and public property, which I took several notes on, and thanked him for setting me straight.  He had a gun sitting on his passenger seat, which he never let his eyes direct to, but which mine were setting up a permanent camp at.  (I know I ended the sentence with a preposition, however let me remind you the setting is Mississippi, so when in Rome…) At the end of my lecture about property and property rights he pointed me ever so kindly in the direction to leave his property, which was only a bout a half a mile to the gate. I gladly started off in that direction, but about 5 steps into it, I realized my run was going to be a lot longer than I expected, and even worse I was going to have to run on the road.

Running on the road was not as bad as expected, but contending with motorists on a Saturday in MS on their way to watch football, aaiiyyyeeeeeeee!!!  I kept cruising along the roads hoping to find another way into the trails.  I took a turn after the trailer park at the Shady Oaks RV Park sign, which seemed like a good idea…  I am not sure if I was seeing things or not, but there was an Indian temple under construction on this road.  My first thought is I am hallucinating, this is not a site I expected to see on a run, much less what started out to be a trail run in Mississippi that has already gone through a swamp.  So I stop and look at this place a little befuddled, and I ask one of the workers what is going on.  It turns out he is the foreman from India and he invites me in for a tour of this 80% complete temple.  Now 80% of the construction is done, but none of it has any color, it is just grey.  If this were not surreal enough already, now I am seeing real life in Black & White.  I satiate my curiosity of the place, thank the workers for the tour and make my way back toward home.

I run along the edge of another hunting camp, knowing that my tress-passing, at least on hunting camp property for the day has ended.  I climb a fence into the Jackson Country Club and run along the levee separating the golf course from the river and with each step getting closer and closer to home.  I was only supposed to do 18 or so miles, but I am already at 25 by the time I hit the country club. I arrive back at my dad’s house with a little over 27 miles on my legs and am beat, but at least no one asked me to squeal like a pig.

Click below to see a map of the run, minus 3.5 miles or so of it.

http://connect.garmin.com/activity/1074773

Pinnacle Peak

“Did the pilot just say  the temperature is 98?” I ask no one in particular, and the answer from a few natives on the plane was,”oh yeah, that’s nothing.”  What is wrong with these people?  98 degrees at 8 o’clock at night, no big deal?  This last week Corinne & I went to Arizona to visit my sister Elizabeth & her husband Brandon in Phoenix.

The next morning  I wake up at about 5:30 Phoenix time and take myself for a walk toward Starbucks.  As light begins to shed itself over the landscape I notice my sister’s neighborhood is surrounded by mountains; large rust colored mountains.  Being surrounded by mountains out West has a completely different feel from being surrounded by mountains in the southeast.  For example in the mountains here people do not talk as funny as they do back home in the mountains, “how you’ns doin?” was a phrase I did not hear in Arizona.  Additionally the sun can be seen as it’s first light hits over the horizon.  On my way to Starbucks the sunrise provided the most color contrast for the day  with purples, reds & yellows all reflected off long cottony stretched clouds that looked like they were installations in a very large art museum, hovering just below the ceiling.  You know the ones designed to give the patron a feeling of… I wonder what the hell those things are supposed to make me feel anyway.

The point is the sunrise was beautiful, and it became difficult to not stare at it, but alas like some peon from a greek myth, if you stare at the sun too long you might run into a cactus.  Ok so maybe it was not a cactus of the normal variety but it was a prickly plant of some sort protruding directly into my path. And maybe in greek mythology or Aesop’s fables there were no cacti, but my lesson was learned anyway, no more staring at the sun.

We spent Friday checking out the Cave Creek area and went for a little hike before visiting the Mayo Clinic, for a tour, not a “real visit.”  Elizabeth works here.  I have decided if you need to be in a hospital, this is the place to be.  I have not seen a hospital like this before, nice wood floors, open atrium where the patients rooms faced.  My perception could also be a little distorted since this is the first time I have been to a hospital in a long time where me or a loved one was not a patient.

On Saturday, we woke  and headed North to Flagstaff where the weather would not be as hot and we could see some trees.  It took a few hours to get there, but the scenrey on the drive was amazing.  It was really cool to watch the landscape change from Phoenix as we moved further north and reached the higher elevations.  Trees began to appear, the green began to mix with the rust colored mountains, and then taking it over;  forming a landscape, that while much larger than what I am used to it did have a similar paint job.

We arrived in Flagstaff, to much cooler temperatures than when we awoke and had nice casual lunch a couple blocks form Route 66.  After lunch we began our assault on Pinnacle Peak which begins at about 10k feet. I offered to go back to the car when we realized we had forgotten a few things a couple hunred yards after we started our hike.  I thought I was in pretty decent shape.  I have since changed my thinking.  Upon running a few hundred feet my body suddenly gave me the “stop this right now, or their will be consequences” speech.  I listened.

We entered the woods after we crossed a large field and made our way up the trail though a forest of aspen trees.  My mind kept telling me how I could run this trail, but on closer inspection, although the grade was acceptable it was rooty and technical for the majority.  I was happy to be hiking and visiting with my family.  We hiked for a couple of hours and made it to a point that we deemed was a good pinnacle for us.  We shot a few pictures and talked about Sedona and that it would be good to see and a great place for dinner.

Cathedral rock, oak creek, sedona

As we made our way toward Sedona on back roads, the views were spectacular along Oak Creek heading down into Sedona.  The road drops what seems like 2000 feet in a very short distance.  And with each foot of descent the shadows became greater and sun reflected off the top of the canyon walls. There were jagged peaks and rough cut rock like the picture to the left, but also smooth rounded cliffs that look like they were formed with clay and a puddy knife. This is one of the prettiest drives I have been on.  We passed a few campgrounds along the creek and I was beginning to make plans in my head to revisit  this area with climbing, camping & boating gear.

We kept moving forward and it continued to be pretty, but something was telling me Sedona, was not what I was expecting.  I think the first clue might have been the Dairy Queen, but I am not sure.  When we finally arrived in Sedona, I realized to my horror, I am in the Gatlinburg of the desert.  This is what it must feel like after having been a great trip in the Smokies, only to leave the woods and be bombarded by funnel cakes and airbrush t-shirts.  Do not get me wrong, there is a time & place for everything, I was just not expecting this.  On the main strip in town there were lots & lots of large people, fat guys on motorcycles chewing on toothpicks with leather vests.  I did not see a fudge shop or a place to purchase Christmas ornaments, but I have no doubt there were a few shops that could satiate those urges if you had them.  There was even a a touring company with pink jeeps that would take you on “safari.”  A pink jeep in such a truly beauitful landscape is an assault to the senses.   Seriously Sedona is the type of place you go to buy art (I use this term loosely) by Thomas Kincaid, the painter of light. For those of you who do not know Thomas Kincaid  is to art what Esteban, the guy who does the informercial about his guitars is to music.

Luckily I think most everyone knew it would be best if we got as far away as possible from this particular strip and Brandon located a nice restaurant away from the pink jeep tours that had amazing views.  The cliff lines at higher elevations were white that flowed into the red cliffs that surrounds the town.  This is a city worth seeing, but be forewarned, if you wear Nascar paraphenalia you will be embraced as their brethren.  But at least you’ll get a funnel cake and some Christmas Ornaments for your time.

Back in the woods…

So I’ve taken a little time off from reporting what I have been up to in my life, mainly because work has been so busy, but since my last report I’ve had my eyes checked, run 14 miles at Fort Mountain as training for the marathon up there, managed to get stung by no less than 6 yellow jackets within the first mile of the run and done a huge hair show for 5000+ people in Minneapolis.  I used to make fun of my boss for not having time to do anything before I was employed by him, saying “it’s only 4 hair salons, how hard can it be?”  I believe the term I am looking for is eating crow.

Well while in Minneapolis I was able to go on a few good runs crossing the Mississippi a few time on a pedestrian bridge and going down to check out the site of where the bridge collapsed into the river.  After our mainstage performance on Sunday evening there was an after party at Prince’s or the artist formerly known as Prince’s nightclub.  We were escorted along the red carpet past the crowds and straight into the club, kind of odd, but fun none the less. This is the closest thing I have ever experienced to being a celebrity.  Once inside the venue, I talked to a few too many people about hair and salons and decided it was my cue to leave.  As I left there was a 50 minute wait to get into the venue and I walked past the line which extended for the entire block.  I got back to my hotel and went for another run around Downtown Minneapolis which was relatively deserted.  This was one of the cooler runs I have done on pavement.  Late night in a city I did not know, looked deserted for the most part, you could run a long the river, and I borrowed an Ipod full of music I do not have nor would ever admit to having but loved listening to.  I will not divulge who it was but somewhere along the lines of 80’s metal hair bands, You don’t know what you’ve got til it’s gone. 

At the event we worked an average 15 hours a day, and it has taken me a while to get back to feeling normal.  I’ve been sleeping like a baby and for about as long.   I managed only one run during the week, and this morning for the first time I got in a real run at Kennesaw.  I had a challenge getting motivated this morning as I was eating breakfast, so I went here http://www.wearenotjoggers.com/home and reread the book.  Motivation challenge was crushed!  I want to be an animal, preferably one higher on the food chain than most. 

I do not however want to be this animal.  I’ve never seen this thing before, and luckily some kind stranger on the trail stopped me halfway up the mountain to point it out and was kind enough to send me a picture of it.  This thing is something fierce I am pretty sure, and if it is like most caterpillars it will become a flying creature of some sorts, definetly not a docile butterfly, if anything it will become Mothra.  Maybe this is a Pterodactyl in it’s larva stage.  Whatever it is I think I’m going to have nightmares about it.  But hey if this thing can climb the mountain, I should be able to as well.  New motivation for the rest of the mountain.  The motivation started with the Run Like an Animal Campaign, then shifted to a woman of larger stature than most, who was giving it her all around Kolb Farm.  The look on her face, even though she was moving rather slow, was pure unadulterated determination.  She was definelty in the pain zone, but kept giving it her all. I am humbled, and motivated.  My final motivation for the day after making it over the mountain, meant there was some chocolate milk in my near future 5 miles more but it’s in the near future and keeps me going. … Chocolate Milk is under rated.   

Oh and for those of you wondering about my eye…no patch, and my vision is getting better & better.  No Glaucoma, so the prescription I was hoping for will not be doled out this week, but just you wait once I get it, we will have an essay contest and pass it on to, not the person who needs it most, but who is the most creative and can make me laugh.  So start gathering your stories and you might run into some legal issues, but I know a few good attorneys… Oh wait, back to the eye, I still see spots, but not nearly as many, and my central vision in my left eye is distorted, but my peripheral is amazing.  So as long as I do not focus, everything is allgood….  that sounds very Zen like… Oh my sweet Jesus, I’m turning into a hippie.  I’m going to go take a shower!!!

Thankful for sticking a needle in my eye?

I suppose it could be worse, according to the the pledge “cross my heart, hope to die, stick a needle in my eye,” I received the lesser of the three, but still… I mean come on, who really keeps up with these promises.  Apparently someone and they are serious about it. They were most likely a hall monitor during his or her youth and this was just part of the natural progression, this or become an IRS agent, or maybe he or she is just into S&M.  Anyway whoever is keeping tally, I hope your happy now and for the record I received no joy in this.  By the way if you know who I broke the promise to some umpteen years ago when I made the pledge, let me know.  If it was about that girl I met and hooked up with at the beach that you wouldn’t know when i was 13, don’t you think this is a little severe?  

Woke up early to get to Emory on time in the middle of the biggest storm we have had in years. I wish I could say the hospital was located on a hill, all by itself and lightening was striking all around, so I knew just what an ominous day it would be, but no, it was just another boring building getting rained on.  I was feeling pretty good about the day, and how the checkup would turn out, but I was a little off with my gut feeling this morning.  So much for using gut instinct anymore.  

I arrived just in time for my 8:50 appointment thanks to Corinne dropping me off out front while she parked. Being on time is apparently not a huge priority for the hospital as I was not called back to see anyone until 9:45.  The first person I saw today was not a Doctor, but did the normal preliminary tests with me, and dilated just my left eye today. They have all sorts of odd looking Dr. Who devices around the place and absolutely no color.  Very stark settings. But when they use the devices to test things out, all ideas about the decor or lack there going flying out, (I’d say window, but they do not have any.) They look like some strange torture devices  but as it turns out they are all pretty benign.

After the initial test Rinne and I were sent out to the waiting area.  This is the worst time in the waiting area.  Your eyes take a little while to fully dilate, but in the mean time you can not  read because your pupils are becoming the size of quarters, not allowing you to focus on any words. You are left sitting there with no magazines with pictures, or books with pictures, just words, and you can not read a one of them. This is cruel, apparently the guy who keeps cross my heart oath is doing a little overtime in the waiting room. 

Eventually we are called back to the room where I get to see the Dr.  For the first time she is the first one through the door, not her intern.  I am stoked to see her.  She is the happiest Dr. I have ever had to deal with in a professional setting. Not only is she friendly, she actually takes the time to explain to me what is happening.  

What’s happening?  Well, the conservative approach to bring back my vision has failed.  I seem to have an edmea, or a pocket of fluid that is causing me to not see so great currently.  So in her words “to expedite the seeing process,”

This sounds good doesn’t it…. but wait for it….

“we are going to stick a needle in your eye.”  

AYYYyyeyeeeyeyeyeeyeyeyeyyyyyyyyyyEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY.  

How sticking a sharp needle or for that matter anything in my eye, will “expedite the seeing process” is beyond me, but she somehow convinces me, and gives me the option to do it now or come back in a few days.

Let’s get this over with, I can not begin to imagine having to be anxious about this for several days.  We go over the side effects, glaucoma, infection, retinal detachment… uhhhhh retinal detachment, you mean when my eye falls apart?  

Yeah, that’s the one, but it only happens in less than 1% of the patients.  

Pretty good odds, but seeing how Eale’s disease affects way less than 1% of the general population, I’m not a big fan of this one in a million thing any more.  If someone says you are one in a milliion, with the current population count, that means roughly there are 6.8 million people just like you.  I sure feel special though.

After dropping the needle bomb and seeming way to happy that I’m ok with her sticking a needle in my eye for a shot of steroids she is off to call my insurance company to see if its ok.  I am pleading on the inside that my insurance company has a personal vendetta and will deny the claim, but the oath guy has strong ties everywhere.  The doctor returns with a nurse, and they begin the process.  

Dr. Yan asks if I would like for her to explain each step of the process,

“Absolutely not, but thank you.”

I receive some numbing drops, and the the equivalent of a shot of lidocaine in my eye, before the big shot. The nurse asks me to focus on her why the doctor slips around me and out of my field of vision.  She asks me to keep my eyes on her, which I do.  I have not been this focused on anything in a while.  She has me adjust my eyes back to the middles, and thats when it happens… the needle goes in!@$^&^&

I think I can get used to breaking promises if they stick needles in your eye like this each time.  It was suprisingly not painful, mildly irritating, but not painful.  The anticipation was much worse, but overall the procedure was fast & simple. Now it is just a waiting game for my vision to become of superhero proportions.   This is how I see as of right now…minus the scene in the background. The whole world looks like an evil sno-globe that has been violently shaken, well at least in my left eye.  

Chattooga via Opossum Creek!

Elevation   “Camp Branch flows south and west into Opossum Creek shortly before the latter empties into the lower Chattooga River. Camp Branch begins flowing across a plateau at around 1700′ elevation and maintains a low gradient before dropping 400′ over the last half mile. ”   (they’re not kidding)          Chattooga is at historically low levels, so I thought it would be a good idea to hike into 5 falls and check out just how it looks under most of that water (no need to read any further, it’s scary).  Rinne and I got up and head North to meet Trevor near Tallulah Falls before we started the hike.  We were given impeccable directions to the trailhead by Ken Strickland, who seems to know North Georgia better that anyone, probably even the creator.  If I collect all the emails I have received from him on places to go in Georgia I will have an in depth guide book that would leave the Sierra Club scratching their heads, curious if even these places exist.  Big thanks to Ken who without this it would have never happened, also the Academy, my 11th grade chemistry teacher, I would also like to thank the large lady at the BP this morning with 17 and a half teeth for inspiring me to brush & floss more… what? Anyway we found the trail with no effort, and started on our way down.  The trail is very well kept and relatively clear, not at all what I expected.  Trevor and I had attempted this same feat last fall, without the Strickland’s beta, and we were bushwhacking a trail that got us to the river, but with about 20 times more effort and about 4 miles from where we wanted to be.   When we intersected Opossum creek we came out at a rapid called Qualude, and too a much bigger beach than I’ve ever seen on the Chattooga.  It was pretty impressive. It has been a few years since I have been down here, and I forgot how pretty and remote this area is.  We managed to only see one other group on and 83 degree sunny Saturday in August.       Now a little perspective… No Water Add Water Water dissolving…and water removing There is water at the bottom of the ocean Carry the water at the bottom of the ocean Remove the water at the bottom of the ocean! We hung out and swam for a couple of hours and then made the march back up the hill and back toward Atlanta.  If anything is to be learned it is do not swim here if you are kayaking, and returning to Atlanta can be a challenge, but I think I will be able to endure…

Tuesday at Kennesaw

Went for my regular Tuesday night run at Kennesaw with the GUTS group this evening and for some reason thought it would be a good idea to go over the mountain instead of the normal run. I managed to get over the mountain, but not in a normal running style, it hurt. Perhaps some of it was me not being fully recovered from the weekend, or maybe I just need to ramp up my training. Isn’t there an easier softer way…

On a positive note my downhills are improving. The technical rocky terrain still gives me a few issues and messes with my head more than anything. I only rolled my ankle once this evening!

On another positive note, when I got to the bottom of the mountain, I was 3rd in a group of 5, so I started my way back up the mountain to make sure the 5th was still in working order (this trail has taken its fair share of strong runners down into the dirt). He was not too far behind, so my uphill was limited, and for this I am truly grateful. But this is not the positive note, had I not turned around on the trail and backtracked, I would miss what about 7 people in the park were able to see with me…

DISCLAIMER:These are not the actual deer I saw, but they look similar.

Pretty friggin cool thing to see on an after work run in Atlanta. Actually I think it would be pretty cool to see no matter when or where, but this was a bonus for the run.

1280 foot elevation gain on the run, maybe 6 mile trail run, wild deer and fawn feeding in a true woods setting all during rush hour…and Atlanta gets a bad wrap for not being a good outdoor town. We should try and keep it this way.

Cheoah!!!

Spent the weekend in NC, arriving late Friday night too much cooler than Atlanta temperatures, which was more than pleasing to me. On Saturday morning I woke up and did a nice 4.5 mile run on Flint Ridge which is directly above the NOC where you gain about 700 feet in the first mile of the run. The Flint Ridge trail was built as part of a trail building camp hosted by NOC and IMBA a few years ago, so the result is a nice smooth trail that is is mountain bike friendly the whole way. Translation: the whole thing is runnable because of the grades not being ridiculously steep. After the fun climb in the beginning it is a nice rolling trail that you can get moving fast on. This was a nice warm up fro what was to come Sunday.

I spent Saturday afternoon teaching a friend to paddle on the Nantahala. I forgot this river imports its water from a glacier. I can not believe I spent a good part of my life in this river without jumping inside a woodstove like our friend from Plumtree.

Now onto Cheoah…

Trevor, never one to turn down stupid adventures, came to join me for the Cheoah Bald “bad idea” run. This is is part of his preparation for his first marathon in November. The area was packed with people who were planning on kayaking the Cheoah the next day, and Trevor and I were mistaken by a few as kayakers when we told them our plan was to run to Cheoah.  I was slightly insulted (not sure why),  my priorities have shifted a little to say the least, as there was a time when paddling was all I thought about, & cheoah meant really only one thing to me.  Dont get me wrong, not that paddling is not fun, I just do not have the drive that I once did, plus if you only do it about 10 days a year, things can start to get scary again, yeah Horsepasture!

We started our approach to Cheoah bald on the Bartram trail along Ledbetter creek at roughly about 1900 feet. When we started to cross the creek we came across the President of the NC Bartram trail Society building a bridge across Ledbetter creek. Spoke with him for about 5 minutes and thanked him for his work and discussed volunteer opportunities as I feel like I owe some serious time in the trail maintenance department.

To give you an idea of how steep the first section is, it took us 23 minutes to climb .9 miles and my heart rate was in the 150s. The trail diverts away from Ledbetter during this time, but comes back to the creek and you follow it for its entirety until it runs dry, well at least this year. We ran what sections we could along this part, but for the most part, this was just an anaerobic hike. After the creek goes dry you can run at a decent pace for about a 1/4 of a mile, where you cross an unused forest service road. At the junction of the road and trail I believe there was a butterfly convention. I have never seen so many in one place before, and the variety of colors, it was like a being surrounded by a bunch of flying flowers, not to mention there were flowers, although that had not taken flight, (I am still somewhat of grounded.)

Elevation Profile. Apparently I fell off the mountain 33 minutes in, and it did not hurt as much as I thought it would.

After the butterfly convention we headed back into the woods for the most miserable climb of the day. And by miserable, I mean painful, and by painful I mean i hurt in a place I did not know existed in my body. The trail was goregeous but relentless in its ascent. This is for about a 1/4 of mile before it makes a sharp right hand turn and becomes a manageable climb. Whoever blazed this trail was one tough… person. We continued up and met up with the AT about a 1000 feet from the summit.

Cheoah bald is at an elevation of about 5064 and roughly 4.25 miles from the mouth of Ledbetter creek. A little over 3000 vertical feet not counting any ups and downs in about 1:34 . This is the fastest I have made it up here. We dropped our hydration packs, broke out Gator Ades, Clif Bars and the camera and enjoyed the views. The dogs enjoyed the rest, and the extra food packed for them. I became chilled much faster than I anticipated on an August day, so we packed up took a few pictures and started moving.

We started the rapid descent from the bald and Trevor, tried to wrap himself around a tree, and was fairly successful. Luckily his pack afforded him some protection, not much but some. When he & I run together it is usually me who ends up hurting himself, so this was a nice change, but was in the front of my head the whole time. We dropped down to Sasafrass Gap, 732 foot descent in about a mile. Only 7 more miles to go, and my quads were yelling at me already. We managed to keep a good pace, and were much more talkative on the way down than on the way up. We were able to run most of the trail except a few steep rocky declines and a couple inclines. Even the smallest of ascents had my quads yelling expletives to the rest of my body within 10 seconds of staring a hill. We continued on down to the Nantahala for a total of 12 miles for the day with a total time including our rest on top of Cheoah in about 4 hours. I climbed into the icy cold river and soaked my legs along with Java soaking his entire body, 12 miles was rough on the both of us.

Faster?

Small break in the weather here in Atlanta on Friday, and I believe I ran the fastest I have run in a long time  What a difference 10 degrees makes.  In keeping with the flow went on a 20 mile road ride on Saturday and realized that when riding I always look over my left shoulder, which means I look with my left eye for traffic.  I had never noticed this before, and realized how this is now a challenge.  My left eye is not completely back to normal which causes the vision to still be a little distorted.  I guess I am going to have to be more conscious of it all now.  

After the ride Trevor and I wen on a nice casual pace run.  It is the very least I could do since Trevor led the bike ride at a comfortable pace.  We went to Sope and headed towards the river.  I thought we should run down to the river and straight back up and decided Graveyard trail would be the easist one to go down for footing.  I chose poorly…

Roughly 200 yards into the trail my left foot caught a root and I like many causes of the common cold, was airborn.  I thought I would be able to pull my feet under me, but as soon as that thought came in I was on my chest sliding down the trail.  My water bottle abandoned ship on the way down and landed about 10 feet from me.  Trevor caled “safe,” and pointed out that I had slid about 5 feet.  I could not get up at first, as I was doing a mental check to see if my body was ok, and then I could not get up because  I was laughing.  Its been a while since I have taken flight running.  When I got home I noticed the waist band of my shorts was full of debris from the slide, and I had some brusies to match those on my arm underneath the shorts.  

Now off for a Sunday jaunt, that will hopefully be less exciting.