No Way to Make My Monthly Goal ... and I'm Happy!

After a metric century last weekend, and another one this coming weekend, with a nice mountain climb sandwiched in between, there's no way I'm realistically going to hit my 150 miles running this month.  I'll still give it the old college try, as it were, but whatever.  The point of being healthy is the ability to enjoy things like this. 

Example #1 of enjoying good health was today's activity.

My brother-in-law, Gene, and I hiked Mt. Wrightson, a 9453 foot peak that dominates the local skyline, at least within a 60 mile radius of its granite peak.  It's rumored that back in the days of clean air and polyester (1960's), one could view the Gulf of California from its peak!  (Today we had no such luck, the air quality was quite hazy due to high winds.)

The endeavor was in great doubt as Wednesday and Thursday I was struck with a strange lethargy...I didn't feel sick, but had an unbelievably low energy level, a sick stomach (to play a role later today), and was in as foul of a mood as I've ever experienced without cause.  To make things worse, I was super sore from just 10 miles of SLOW running over three excursions.

Friday morning I thought, "You get all the rest you need when you're dead," and said I'd the mountain a shot on Saturday morning.

I left home at 5 AM, drove to the mountain.  On the way up Madera Canyon (which is a crazy-bicycle ride climbing 3,500 feet in about 12 miles) I saw a group of three wild turkeys, pictured here.

 We headed up the trail, taking the short route, 5.4 miles to the peak, climbing a bit over 4,000 feet.  It was cool, and got colder as we climbed.  As we made it to Josephine Saddle, I was reminded of the boys that died on the mountain in the late 50's during a freak November snow storm.  I attended a speaking by a woman who wrote a book to record the story.  She was the younger sister of one of the survivors, and the entire event left a huge impression upon her.  As she aged she realized that the adults involved were dying and many of the artifacts and stories were disappearing, so she collected the information and wrote the book, "Death Clouds on Mount Baldy."    Here's the memorial:

We climbed for hours in the shade of the mountain.  As we climbed, the temperature dropped steadily.  As you can see here, we weren't dressed for it!

The views were AMAZING, way better than my little pocket camera could capture.

Before even reaching the peak we were significantly higher than the next highest mountain, which is in the same range, Mt. Hopkins, sporting a huge observatory.

Once at the top, the wind was CRAZY!  The view, while obscured by dust in the air, was still great, with vistas much farther than my camera captured.  In the picture below you can see where the water flows during the summer monsoons.  When down on the valley floor, one would have no clue!

As we hit the summit a voice said, "Did you see the bear?" 

It came from an elderly man that rested unseen against the remains of a former look out tower, or some such structure. He said we walked right past it.  Ugh...we talked about how we'd both would love to see a bear!

Talking to the man, he's climbed the mountain each weekend of the month, only failing to summit one weekend due to 6 foot snow on the trail.  How cool is that?

Soon another man, a bit older, joined us, then a pair of trail runners.  It was my first experience sharing a peak with someone not in my party.  But, it was nice and they took our picture.

On the way down, we both suffered greatly.  We both rode in a race last weekend, and our thighs were greatly taxed, and thus our knees grew tired.  For me, I always run in toe-shoes and my trail running shoes beat my toes to a pulp.  They're truly sore!

On the way down, the light was better for pictures, and it finally warmed up.  By the time we finished (due to dead thighs, the downward trip took longer and was more taxing than the trip up), it was quite warm.

On the way down, Gene's knee really hurt.  It slowed him greatly.  Mine hurt too, but my stomach began to really hurt.  I mentioned the stomach problems earlier in the week...well, I can't say anything delicately beyond I was happy to have brought toilet paper.  It was tricky though because there were lots of hikers on the trails and the slopes were incredibly steep just off the trail.  I've never had a problem like that and don't wish that on anybody!

As we approached the bottom of the trail we found a very young horned lizard (we call them horny toads).

I've known Gene since I was 14, and he was about 9.  His sister, now my wife, caught a horny toad and I traded her a poem I'd written for the lizard.  I kept it in a dresser drawer for a day and brought it back to her house the following day.  Gene wanted to hold it, I didn't want him to, and held my arm up high so he couldn't reach it.  He knocked my arm and the horny toad fell to the ground and out popped a bunch of babies!

We relived that moment while studying this little fellow.

All told, it was a GREAT day.  I will definitely be returning to these trails to do some training and running once I'm fresh and rested.  For those of you that are trail runners, how does this look:

I hope those reading had a wonderful Saturday and are, like me, enjoying good health.  I leave with a picture of me on the top of the mountain, that reminds me of the cover of "Born to Run."

Sprained foot or not, I'm going.

Above is a view of the peak after we got up on the shoulders of the mountain.

I can walk, so I can hike. I can't run, but who cares. I was going hiking.

We left at 6:30 am, this being my fourth time on this hike. It turned out to be the most difficult yet. By comparison, it was much harder than my recent 73 mile bike race. The sprained foot was no problem, it was a bunch of other things that made it difficult.

I went with some rookies, my cousin and his friend. Both healthy and physically capable, but I knew they wouldn't have enough water. So I brought 2 additional liters for each of them. I was the one who ran out of water. Luckily they had a LITTLE extra. Eventually we all ran out but were back in civilization by that time. It was a good thing I had electrolyte replacements (NUUN) and snacks too.

Anyhow, the hike took us 8 hours and the route we took was only about 7 miles. We were booking up the mountain at a whopping 0.5 mph. Seriously, it's hard core! There are extended stretches where it's crawling and sliding backwards half of each "step." We spent about 20 minutes on the peak looking around, and generally had a great time.

The thing that surprised me was my feet. They were TOAST. Since I've been running and working on my foot conditioning, they've narrowed and I no longer have flat feet. The boots I wore are incredible boots, especially for this terrain. They never before gave me issues, but with my new foot shape, my feet were ground beef by the time we were done.

Anyhow, I wanted a test of personal character and got it today! As my cousin said, "It wasn't pretty, but we did it." I have to tip my hat to him for toughness. As terrible as I felt at the last third of the hike, he felt after the first third. He was having spasms and cramps and just having a tough time!

Here are some pictures:

This is a puking cactus. Not sure what caused this, but it STUNK too!

This is the southern most Sahuaro Cactus I know of (not transplanted). They're not "supposed" to be at this elevation.

So you can get an idea of the steepness, just off the edge in any direction it's almost vertical.

Here I am at the top in my fat clothes. They're roomy, but protect me from the sun! It was 102 today, by the way! The next mountain is the one off of my left shoulder in the horizon. It's about 10,000 feet above sea level.

Wildfires, Injuries and Reflections

First off, I think this is a cool picture. There is a rapidly spreading wildfire in the mountain ranges to the west of my home. Last night we drove around to take some pictures. On the left you can see the thumbnail of a moon as it dips into the valley. Of course, you can't see that it's a valley because it's night. To the right of the moon, and higher up, the fire is racing down the mountain pushed by our late-spring winds.

Unfortunately I don't have a really high end camera. You need some professional quality equipment to accurately capture the scale of such things, but they're cool pictures anyway.


On my little fall yesterday I ended spraining my left foot. I've sprained both ankles many times and this doesn't feel like anything more than a grade 1 sprain. I hope to be back at some reasonable level of activity in the very near future.

While the injury isn't bad, it's the timing that sucks. I had planned to hike a local mountain, San Cayetano. I invited people and was very excited. It appears I’ll have to postpone.

Let me tell you a bit about "my" mountain. Actually, I'm captivated by it, and don't wish to show ownership, but rather a desire to belong. There are properties of this mountain I wish to share.

It's a small mountain, just 6000 feet. That's just 2500 feet above the valley floor. The long route to the summit is only 6 miles. Anybody can climb this thing. (The local boys cross country team has run up it!) I've climbed much taller mountains and have taken days to do so.

San Cayetano is THE land mark for the town where I live. You see it from everywhere. And even though I know what it's like on top, I am always drawn to it. When I drive to the store I see it. When I step out of my classroom, I see it. When I drive home from a long trip, it's the first thing I see that tells me, "You're almost here." When I was in the military and stationed in Europe I would dream of two things when I got homesick; my future wife and this mountain. And each time I see it, in person or in memory, I’m called.

The mountain is captivating because it's both accessible and visible, but also mysterious and dangerous. There are no trails, no boundaries and it's open to anybody at any time. There are countless mine shafts, cliffs, unseen beauties and dangers.

There is a huge rock that has broken off from somewhere higher up the mountain and has slid down about 2000 feet. Where it stopped there is an abandoned mine shaft called Tubutama. Tubutama, what does that mean?!?! I can look it up, but I want to go see it. It must mean...an adventure, because it's completely unknown!

In the summer, the peak is often covered in lady bugs escaping the heat from lower elevations. There are ample signs of mountain lions and wildcats. You will certainly see, if you look, snakes, coyotes, deer, javelina and maybe a coatimundi.

I first climbed San Cayetano when I was 12 or 13. It was exhausting and I was spell-bound. See, San Cayetano is defined by its terrain. It’s a high desert mountain, but unlike most in this category, there are no oak trees because there is no water. The soil has washed away leaving exposed the toughest core of the mountain.

There is not a single moment on the climb before you get to the top where you can relax. There are places that are pure shale under foot and yet so steep that while standing up straight you can reach out and touch the ground in front of you. A friend of mine lost all of his toe nails descending this portion going straight down!

There are vast stretches covered in mini-fridge sized rocks that are lined with a swordsman of a plant called Shin-Daggers. Every time I've been up there I've fallen on beds of them or had them puncture the sides of my boot. Apparently, San Cayetano is the perfect environment for this hypodermic flora. There are beds of them that one has to pick their way through. Of course the pitch is steep and the exposed ground is loose and sloppy increasing the likelihood of falling.

Unlike a cactus, which is thin and very pointed, a shin dagger is the furled end of an agave leaf. The tip is black, appears burnt, and has rolled up so tightly upon itself that it's sharp as a sewing needle, but quickly widens. Denim pants offer no protection at all!

The hike to the top is completely exposed to the Arizona sun. Since there are no trees and no soil, it’s just rock, it's like an oven. On the first trip I brought two gallons of water and drank all of it before completing the hike. On my second trip, my brother in law suffered a very scary moment because of a combination of dehydration and exposure. His entire body, eyelids included, cramped uncontrollably. It was very frightening! That is the kind of lesson you won't be taught twice.

On the top there is a lightning rod, signature rosters in canning jars, and wild grasses. There is a breeze and a view as vast as your peripheral vision. But what's really there is reward. When climbing, there's no question of expectation or shady boundary between proper engagement in the activity and skirting the rules. You just climb. Once you're there (and back safely), you've succeeded.

Accomplishment is what gives us self-confidence. Self-confidence gives us courage to face adversity. That's what the mountain, or the run, or the bike race, or the academically challenging class really offers.

When I was younger I avoided a lot of challenges. I wasn't afraid of them, I had falsely placed confidence. I was egotistical. Why try, I know I can do it. What's the challenge? The school of hard knocks showed me that it doesn't matter if you can. Potential is worthless. What counts is results. Years of resting on my potential left me with nothing to show. Now, I'm not so sure if I can do things anymore. Injuries and age have worn on me. Failures have given me modesty, though likely not enough.

Let me explain why I wish to identify with the San Cayetano. The mountain is statistically unassuming and it’s very approachable, but in it lays many mysteries and challenges. Its peaks are rounded solid stone that stand distinct from the slopping sides like a head poking through a t-shirt.

It’s as if time has washed away all of the comfort giving shade, sucked away the natural springs and left exposed the foundations. It's like a weathered cowboy, standing proud and filthy, sun-baked and deeply wrinkled. He’s been doing his work for a long time and it’s never easy. But that’s what he is and that’s what he does and all can see.

I, too, hope to show myself without shame through the tests I face. I want to face the challenges that will wear away my soft exterior and leave exposed my core.

I’ve never owned Saucony shoes, but love this quote:

From a Saucony commercial: Maybe strong is just what you have left when you've used up all your weak...

I do not wish to promote a religion or advocate for a belief system. The following is a biblical quote because it, like the previous quote, reflects the sentiment.

John 3:20 - 21: For everyone who does wicked things hates the light and does not come to the light, lest his works should be exposed. But whoever does what is true comes to the light, so that it may be clearly seen that his works have been carried out in God.

Here's a picture from across the valley. We start at the far right (south) and the last peak on the left is the highest point. As mountains go, this is nothing special, but it is the land mark for the town where I live.

But to show you how deceptive distances and angles are in the desert, here's a view from the south:


One last picture, from the golf course. The shouldered pyramid in the front is Mt. Shibell, and behind it, to the left, is San Cayetano.