Pikes Peak: 14,115'

Happy and acting silly before the race.

Perhaps one of the last smiles of the day.

It started months ago when Dana announced she was getting married on the day of the Imogene Pass Run.  Christie, who has always wanted to do the Pikes Peak Ascent, used this as ammunition to get us to agree to do it.  At the same time, as if the stars were aligning, Robyn was looking for something new, something different.  And then it happened.  

A group of us (myself, Robyn, Hallie, Christie, and Shelley) descended on Colorado Springs this weekend to participate in the Pikes Peak Ascent. The PPA in two measures is 13.32 miles, and 7,815' elevation gain. In two words, it's insane and stupid. So... right up my alley.

View of a lake from somewhere on the trail. :)

The race begins at 6,300' and ends at 14,115'. Runners leave Manitou Springs and travel by road up to the Barr Trail. From there, the course follows the trail and goes up. There are very few downhill sections and the average percent grade is 11%.  From miles 1.5 to 4.5, the average percent grade is 13% - just in case you thought the beginning would be easy.  From there it does "level out" (8.3% grade) to Barr Camp - but by now you've run a total of 7.6 miles and have climbed to 10,200'. At that altitude, you're breathing air that has 70% of the oxygen that sea level air has.  Stopping to consider how tired you are and what you have ahead (nearly 4000' more of elevation gain over just under 6 miles) could be fatal. 

Barr Camp to the treeline is 2.6 miles, and at a 13.1% grade this section is taxing. Once you reach the treeline you're at 11,910' and you've traveled at total of 10.2 miles.  Trees do not grow above this level and from there you can look up and see your fate. 3.1 more miles to the top at a 12.4% grade. It's wide open. You can see the runners in the waves ahead of you slowly working their way back and forth across the mountain. It's painful to look at, yet you carry on. One foot in front of the other. Keep moving forward. As the race planners for the Imogene Pass Run said, if you keep moving forward, no matter how slow, you're at least getting there. If you stop, if you don't move forward, you will never get there.

Leaving the tree line.

Above the treeline the trail is mostly loose gravel, with a short section of broken rock. The last section is known as the "16 Golden Stairs" - referring to the 32 switch-backs to the summit. It is gravel with step-ups of 10-15 inches - the very LAST thing your tired legs need at an altitude that now has 60% of the oxygen that sea level air has.

With 5 miles to go I was miserable. Thinking the usual "why do I do these things, why don't I train?"... etc.  I looked at my watch and did some math and figured I must have missed the 4-miles-to-go sign.  I trudged on and 5 minutes later I felt a little dizzy so I snuck a gel out of my pocket - the third of the day and not the last - and gagged it down with the water I had left. I turned a corner and up the hill I could see the 3-miles-to-go sign.  When I got there I almost sat down in disbelief. It said 4-miles-to-go. I couldn't believe it. How long had that mile taken me?  Could I possibly finish at this rate?  

I decided to take it easy until two miles to go, figuring at that point the adrenaline to finish would kick in to carry me the remainder of the way.  It did.  The finish was absolutely exhilarating. The whole race I tried to pick people off one by one, and by now I was consistently passing people who started in the wave in front of me. I could see the top (albeit it looked WAY too far above me to possibly reach in 2 miles). I could hear the announcer.  Each switch-back got me closer to the top, and then finally the last one. I was exhausted, I could hardly lift one foot in front of the other, but I had more energy then I did at the bottom.  What a day. 

We all finished. It took Robyn and Hallie 3:44, me 3:48, Shelley 4:25, and Christie 4:41. I was the 71 female to cross the line (out of 484), and 413 overall (out of 1646 who finished).  Not too bad for someone who's been injured and had trouble training. Ha, who am I kidding. As if I would have trained anyway. 

The end.

Ay Chihuahua!

I went to Mexico for an annual meeting and to do some work in Mexico. This time it was in/near the tiny little town of Creel, in the state of Chihuahua, Mexico. Its up in the mountains, you won't find it on most maps. In fact, our government travel agent couldn't even find it. 

We flew to Cuidad Chihuahua and stayed the night there before departing for Creel the following day.  It was a 5 hour train ride through some pretty scenic country.  At one point the train made a really jerky stop.  Then it backed up about 200 feet or so, and made another jerky stop.  After a few minutes we proceeded forward.  Someone working on the train passed us by and we asked what happened.  "A few cars detached," he said very calmly and peacefully as if it happens regularly.  Huh. Interesting.

Only in Mexico are you allowed to stand between cars and hang out over the side. I took this photo of "El Chepe" making its way towards the mountains by doing just that. 

Another photo taken from "El Chepe," again, while sacrificing my life hanging over the edge between cars... knowing any minute it could randomly become detached.

The hotel in Creel was a nice lodge style hotel, very Americanized actually. Not necessarily a good thing, but it was pretty clean.  When I checked in I was given a suite with 3 beds, a huge bath, a waiting/seating area, and an office. I opened my big mouth about it and Miguel told me he had a female student coming that had planned to sleep on the floor in his room. He asked if she could bunk up with me.  I said yes feeling a bit uncomfortable, but also feeling like a good person for being so agreeable.  It wasn't long before Jorge told me he has two students coming and they were supposed to have two rooms, each with two beds, but now only has one room. So he asked if he and his students could share my room, and me and Miguel's student could share a two bed room. How does one say no?  I'd quickly been downgraded off my high suite horse into a common room, which I now had to share with a spanish speaking student. Next time mums the word. 

Photo of the outside of my room.

Jorge took myself and Peter out to an area they are considering as a release site for wolves. It was the most death defying drive I have ever taken. Passing cars while cresting a hill (no telling what was coming on the other side - a logging truck perhaps, a minivan with 9 kids in it, etc.), 4WD on two wheels because we're either going too fast or that's all that would touch going over the crevices, or simply veering off the road while trying to look up words in his spanish to english translation dictionary.  Jorge was pointing out all the "altars" and "cruces" on the side of the road (memorials and crosses) - he said there are lots of car accidents in Mexico. NO SHIT. 

Creel is a nice little Mexican town. Every time I visit Mexico I am amazed at how helpless we Americans are. There are sharp pipes emerging from the sidewalks, cut off at about 4 inches high. There are uneven sidewalks (we're talking 8 inch difference), there are holes knee deep, etc. Anywhere in America you could hurt yourself on these things and sue. Here, there's a level of responsibility you have to assume for yourself.  If you didn't see it and you tripped on it, who's fault is that?  I love it. 

Creel, Mexico.

One night we drove out to a Tarahumara cave and had a small fiesta. It had been raining for hours and we piled into a school bus and headed down the treacherous roads. I've never seen a school bus go through passings so narrow, puddles so deep, or dangle on cliffs so slippery. We made it there ok, but as the driver turned the bus around to depart, it slid off the road. You could say we were lucky for not being in it, but now the bus was blocking the only way in and out - and the food was behind the bus!  Luckily the alcohol was with us. 

Photo of the tables inside the cave.

Photo of my favorite stray dog.

This dog came to visit us at the cave. She was clearly lactating and very hungry. She sat patiently next to our table just outside the cave but still under the overhang out of the rain. Since I don't eat meat and dinner was a big slab of beef, this pooch was well fed. Several at my table collected their fat trimmings for her, and we gave her as much cheese and other food we could find. I'm pretty sure the service crew was wondering where all the food was going!

We took a trip to Copper Canyon - sort of the Grand Canyon of Mexico only much deeper (2,000 feet deeper on average I think). It was very breathtaking. The Tarahumara live in the canyon and come up to sell their goods.

Tarahumara family making baskets.

We did a bit of hiking too.  The photo below shows a pretty famous rock outcropping. It is famous because the rocks on the end rock or sway like a teeter totter if you stand on them. Very scary over the canyon.

  

And yes....

I am standing on the teetering rock.  YIKES!

We saw every humming bird there was to see in the area at just one location.  It was pretty incredible! Okay, I didn't see one of them, but someone else did. My favorite was the violet-crowned hummingbird. 

Acorn woodpecker, I think. What, you think I'm a wildlife biologist or something?

Three of us hiked a ways down the canyon to an actual Tarahumara dwelling. It was very interesting to see, especially given the reading I had done about the tribe beforehand. 

Tarahumara dwelling.

Photo of rain in the canyon.

Another Tarahumara dwelling.

A pretty lake.

All in all it was a great trip.  The travel on each end was a little long (two flights, three taxis, and a train to get one way), and I feel like there were times where losing my life was imminent. But I made it out alive, the food was great, the scenery was amazing, and I'm sure it's a spot in Mexico I never would have gone to if not for work.