It's not about the running...

Do not follow where the path may lead. Go instead where there is no path and leave a trail. –Ralph Waldo Emerson

What is it like, I wondered? Would it be as good as everyone has described it? There was only one way to find out. Go to Silverton, Colorado!

After a 4am wake-up call from Portland, Oregon on July 4th, I rushed into action and made it out the door within 30 minutes headed to the Austin airport. I was certain the airport would be void of travelers, but I was so wrong. There wasn’t an empty seat on my flights. I flew into Phoenix and, then, transferred a few hours later and arrived into Durango, Colorado before noon. The scenery from the airport wasn’t that fantastic, but looking towards the north, one could surmise looking in the distant sky with snow-capped peaks where the San Juan Mountains were located. Still, the distance from where I stood couldn't’t portray what I could discover later that day. I drove into Durango, about a 20 minute drive from the airport, and stopped at Nature’s Oasis, the closest thing to a Whole Foods one can get in this part of the country. In fact, when I walked into the store, it smelled exactly like the inside of a Whole Foods. I was in heaven. I spent a good amount of time in the store perusing the aisles before heading out. I made a few more stops in town before heading back out to the airport. I was picking up Olga who was arriving on a mid-afternoon flight. I waited outside the airport in the parking lot scanning the skies for her plane to arrive. This airport doesn’t have many flights, so it was easy to figure out which plane was hers when it landed. We made our way to Durango and, after another stop by Nature’s Oasis and getting into an engaging conversation with a few of the store clerks, a continuation of a conversation I started during my first visit about a clerk’s 22-year old girl dating a 17-year old boy, this time with Olga’s wise input, we stopped and had a quick late afternoon meal and, then, drove to Silverton.

The scenery driving to Silverton was spectacular. The farther North we drove, the more incredible the scenery. Just jaw dropping vistas in every direction. It made the one hour drive go by quickly. We reached a turnout high above town and stopped to take a few pictures. The town is literally tucked in a small valley with the Animas River running along its edge. We were glad to be there. We found the Avon Hotel and all the doors were locked, except one. Olga walked around inside and found no one. We had no clue how to check in. We decided to go to Hardrock Central (a.k.a. Charlie Thorn’s house). I saw the familiar face of a hometown friend, Joe Prusaitis, who will be going for, I believe, his 8th finish. Olga introduced me to many of her friends. Ok, I should restate that as...Olga introduced me to everyone at the house because she knows them all. They were grilling burgers, chicken, hot dogs, brats, you name it. Kyle Skaggs came riding up on his 10-speed bike, that he got for the sweet price of 10 bucks, while carrying a large bowl of seasoned new potatoes to add to the front yard cookout. He’s been hanging out in Silverton since April. I could sense how different the atmosphere was around everyone. Unique in the sense it was like a bunch of life-long friends who had deep bonds were coming together to celebrate the wonderment of life. It didn’t really seem to have much to do with running and more to do with everyone spending time with each other catching up on life.

After going back to the hotel and checking in, we returned to Charlie’s house and sat on the front yard with beer (Shiner) in hand waiting in anticipation for the fireworks show that was about to take place after dusk. It was July the Fourth and you could hear the crackles, pops, and occasional booms all over town as people were celebrating the occasion. And, then, the official display began. It was the best display I have ever seen. Apparently, people come from all over Colorado just to witness it. The booms were echoing, reverberating, and bouncing through all the canyons around Silverton. The noise was unique and eerie, in a sense. Something I won’t forget anytime soon. And, the display also inspired me. Here everyone was sitting out in the front yard in silence watching a display that seemed to last for 20 to 30 minutes. Afterwards, many people began heading out for the night. We stayed around a bit longer and I was introduced to Gary Knipling. He has to be the most positive, happiest, and funniest individual I have ever met! After a lively conversation, it was time to retire for the evening and get ready for the long day that was ahead of us—Handies Peak.

The next morning I was famished. Starving. I wanted a BIG breakfast. Olga and I walked down to a local restaurant and I had not only eggs, hash browns, and wheat toast, but, also, a full plate of biscuits and gravy. It hit the spot. I normally don’t eat that much, but I was so hungry and I knew we had a full day ahead of us and I was completely unaware of how difficult the terrain would be or how long we would be up in the mountains. We took some pictures of the town after breakfast and made it back to the hotel to prepare our gear for the big day.

Olga’s best friend, Mike, drove her, Liz, and I up to Grouse Gulch. We had lively conversations all the way up the bumpy jeep road and finally made it to the location of the Grouse Gulch aid station. We met up with Billy Simpson and began our way up Grouse Gulch. The name doesn’t sound too befitting because it’s more like an open canyon than a Gulch. We all got into a pretty decent powerwalk going up. Just as we had arrived to park, Kyle Skaggs and Glenn Mackie started their run, yes run, up to Handies. I was told that Glenn dumped both of his bottles during the initial switchbacks since Kyle was going to run the entire 5.3 mile distance, 3,958 feet net vertical gain. The views were absolutely stunning. Mountains in every direction. This part of Colorado is unique regarding the landscape. It’s mountains stacked on top of mountains for as far as one can see. I was pulling away from Olga, since I was staying with Billy and Mike. I was feeling perfectly fine, which was surprising for me, considering I was at 800 feet the day before. After awhile, I decided to hang back and wait for Olga. She was having some slight issues with her breathing since she forgot to take a shot from her inhaler. Regardless, she was still going strong and steady. We began crossing snowfields and the farther went, the more spectacular the scenery. The snowfields became more frequent. At one point around 12,000 foot, the terrain was fairly flat, so I decided to run a little. It wasn’t too bad and my heart rate never raced out of control. It stayed in the upper end of what I call "good pace". After about five minutes, I stopped and waited for Olga to catch up. We continued on and saw a yellow-bellied marmot alongside the trail, which was faint in spots. We were way above treeline and the views just kept getting better. I was getting so much energy deposited into my body from being up there. The more I saw, the better I felt. Liz was not far behind Olga and I decided to pick up the pace to the American-Grouse Pass (13,020ft). By this time, it was almost solid snowfields. I couldn’t wait to get to the pass because I was anticipating getting my first glimpse of Handies Peak, a Colorado 14’er. I reached the pass and there it was off in the distance, on the other side of the American Basin. There was a congo line of people strewn across the ridge towards the summit—at least two dozen, if not more, people.

Where's Olga???

Seriously, she's in the pictures!!!













American-Grouse Pass (13,020ft). Handies Peak in the distance.










I began my descent from the pass down to American Basin via a large and, sometimes steep, snowfield. I was plunge stepping and doing a standing glissade in parts to make in down. Once I made it down to the bottom, I looked up and saw a little spot breaking the horizon line of the snowfield above. It was Olga. I continued down and caught up to Mike and Billy. They were talking to Kirk Apt, 13-time Hardrock finisher(the most!) and another runner, whom I didn't get the opportunity to meet. I continued on following behind Billy and Mike until we reached the low spot of the trail in the American Basin. It was right next to a creek. From this point it was uphill to the top of Handies Peak. I decided to wait for Olga. I took quite a few pictures and watched Kyle and Glenn making their way down the mountain and pass by me on their way back to Grouse Gulch. My watch hadn’t even got to the two hour point in my day when they passed. Olga showed up not too long after Kyle and Glenn passed as she was following behing Kirk. She told me Liz had turned around before the pass. I had decided to make the final climb to Handies with Olga. Gary Knipling was coming off of Handies and we chatted for a few minutes and he took a picture of Olga and I. Not too long after, the rain began and thunder could be heard in the distance. Not good. The ridges were so high, it was impossible to see approaching storms. We stopped to put on our rain gear. Olga put on a poncho and I donned my Go Lite Wisp anorak and lightweight gloves. The higher we got on the trail, the worse the conditions. Olga commented on how she was losing peripheral vision in her left eye. She had me check her lips for signs of cyanosis. I, also, performed a fingernail check. I was looking for purple lips and fingernails. Everything seemed to be fine and she wasn’t showing any signs of ataxia (uncoordination). She was still in good spirits, nonetheless. We continued on and the storm worsened. We were making the final assault to reach the ridge on Handies Peak when Mike and Billy were coming towards us. They indicated it was worse up top, turned around before the summit, and suggested that we turn around. While I was disappointed, I realized it was the correct decision. There’s always another day. Or, in my case, next year.

We began our descent with Mike leading and Billy slightly behind. Billy is coming off a broken ankle and hasn’t had a lot of opportunity to train for Hardrock this season. Regardless, he was going strong the entire day. Mike slowly faded in the distance while I told Olga to take it easy on the descent. The rain gave way to sleet and the temperatures dropped rapidly. We missed the turn near the low spot in American Basin and continued down on the wrong trail. I kept looking around and eventually noticed we were off course. Thankfully, we didn’t get more than a few hundred yards before I noticed it. Olga and I, then, went off trail and intercepted the correct trail near the low spot in American Basin. Mike was nowhere to be seen and I didn’t think he could have gapped us by that much. Eventually, we saw him coming from the general direction we did. He, also, missed the turn and had gone way farther down American Basin than Olga and I. Olga and I proceeded up making our push to the American-Grouse Pass. I turned around to check on Mike’s progress and noticed he had his hands in his pockets. Olga and I stopped and waited for him. We asked if he had a jacket and he didn’t. Thankfully, I had an extra capilene long-sleeve shirt that Olga and I put on Mike. He didn’t have the coordination, due to his numb hands, to put it on himself. We, also, took my Moeben sleeves and put them on his hands as gloves. He felt like a new man and off he and Billy went towards the pass. Olga and I kept up our steady pace. Her vision was worsening (altitude-induced glaucoma). I was focused on ensuring she saved her energy and my goal was to get her over the pass, since it was a continuous descent from there to better weather and lower altitudes. During the final push to the pass, I decided to keep her off the snowfield and, instead, follow the perimeter in order to conserve energy by not slipping and sliding on the steep snowfield. As we approached the pass, another storm came up with lightnining and lots of sleet and wind. It was the worst place during the entire day one could have been. Totally exposed at 13,000+ feet in the middle of a rain and sleet storm. We made the pass and began our descent. She commented she felt hypothermic. While I was concerned, I knew it would warm up as we continued our descent. We went slow to ensure we didn’t fall and hurt ourselves on the muddy trail and snowfields.. I kept reminding Olga to take it easy on the descent, even though we were running. We had finally made it far enough away from the pass to clear the storm and it began to warm up. Olga’s vision began to return and I was thankful for that. We, eventually, caught up to Billy and Mike and I took a quick picture of the four of us. The remainder of the run down was uneventful. Billy commented that he had never been in weather like that before on the course during the past six years. Olga and I, considering our mountaineering experience, thought it was typical for the mountains. Regardless, it was an epic day in many peoples’ opinions.

Billy, Mike, Olga, and I had an early dinner in Silverton. Kyle showed up and pulled up a chair and we all had some great conversations. The remainder of the day was spent accompanying Olga to a local shrine where she could pay respect to a deceased nephew on his birthday (July 5th). I’ll refrain from saying any more due to the personal nature of it and allow Olga to provide further details on her blog if she so decides. Later on that evening, many of us hung out in the Avon hotel sipping on Fat Tires and having a grand time telling stories and getting to know each other better. Gary Knipling showed up and added a lot of fuel to the fire. It was classic and a lot of fun.

The next morning Olga and I went down to a local coffee shop and hung out with Billy, Mike, and Kyle. Eventually, later that morning, I departed Silverton for the drive back to the Durango airport. I was saddened to leave for many reasons. All the people I met were wonderful and the town of Silverton is truly a special place. I have a much better understanding regarding the allure of Hardrock. I’ve had an interest in running in Hardrock one day, but it is something that is beginning to burn deep inside me now. And, it has absolutely nothing to do with running 100 miles. All I can think about is the experience of being in Silverton, getting to know some great people, and spend time in the mountains soaking in all the scenery. To me, that’s what it’s all about and the most important lesson I learned during my weekend in the San Juans.