My Big Fat Stupid Hike

 

On my second summit of Chena Dome.

By Eric 

Really Good Bad Ideas cannot be denied. 

That was my mantra. I cheerfully repeated it early in my 80-mile hike. I said it with determination as the miles and hours wore on. I spit it out as a curse when I accidentally backtracked 2.5 miles after 36 hours of hiking. 

By then another phrase started dominating my thoughts: Stupid Optimism! 

Stupid Optimism, it seems, is necessary to tackle Really Good Bad Ideas. 

I got this Really Good Bad Idea years ago while participating in local trail-based ultra-endurance events, such as the White Mountains 100, Chena River to Ridge, and Drew’s Angel Creek 50. The last two, held mostly in the Chena River State Recreation Area, were probably where this idea started. 

While looking at maps – I’m a trail geek – I noticed that a person could make a huge loop of three trails in and adjacent to the rec area with only a bit of road to connect them: Far Mountain, Angel Rocks to Chena Hot Springs (ARCHS), and Chena Dome, with just 6 miles of Chena Hot Springs Road. It’s a mostly wilderness route with fairly easy logistics due to a couple of resupply/bail-out points.

The idea is elegant. Well, elegant to addled trail geeks. It’s also a tough route. The trails are often rocky and steep. Both Far Mountain and Chena Dome are just alpine routes for much of the way, requiring route-finding skills (though Chena Dome does have helpful cairns). I tossed the idea out to a few people hoping someone would take it on so I could hear about the adventure. 

The Far Mountain Trail starts by going straight up. 

Unfortunately, no one took me up on the idea. So, I forgot about it. At least, I tried to. Like an annoying itch, I couldn’t get rid of it. Even after I had decided to quit ultra-running events:  too hard on body, too much training required. But there was no way I was going to run that stupid route.

Then, earlier this year, I found myself casually throwing out the idea of hiking it to friend Ned Rozell, another trails and ultra-endurance geek. I waited for him to laugh at me. He thought for about 1.5 seconds. “Sure,” he said. 

Uh. Was I serious? I hadn’t been doing any training. But Ned’s response made that itch even more annoying. But my time was limited. Ned and I had a couple of emails, but our schedules didn’t sync. I had only one three-day weekend available: June 11-13.

Oh my God, I started making plans! Won’t somebody talk me out of this?! I was afraid to mention it to some people. I know some crazies who might want to go along, further cementing the idea. Optimism – Stupid Optimism – had me thinking I might be able to pull this off, but it was still a Really Good Bad Idea. Really Good for someone else to do. Bad for me. 

The view ahead of the Far Mountain route. 

I hoped for outside intervention. Surely, my wife, Corrine, would tell me I shouldn’t try since I hadn’t done any training. Nope. “Great!” she said. “Go for it!” (To be fair, my wife had just attempted a 350-mile gravel bike race in Kansas. She’s a little addled, too.) Miserable weather? Nope. The forecast – cool temps and scattered showers – was just about perfect. 

Suddenly, I was making a food and gear list and then I was shopping and then I was waking early Friday and then I was at Chena Hot Springs starting up the Far Mountain Trail. My Stupid Optimism kept reminding me of a few things: 1) I could bail out at a couple of points. 2) I’m just hiking, and 3) I can rest whenever I get tired.

I’m not a very thorough planner, especially doing solo trips. I blame that on my Stupid Optimism. If things don’t go quite as planned, I’m confident I’ll figure it out. Fortunately, I also have a heightened sense of responsibility. I bring lots of supplies, gear, and navigation aids so that I’m prepared if things go wrong. 

Happy guy at high point of the Angel Rocks to Chena Hot Springs Trail.

I had been on all the trails at least twice before. My rough guess was that this hike would be about 65 miles and would take 20-30 hours. The reality? The route is 75 miles and took me 49.5 hours. (To be fair, I did hike an extra 5 miles when I accidentally backtracked, but even without that mistake my estimates were way off.) I traveled slower than I figured I would, and I didn’t account for resting. I blame it on Stupid Optimism. 

The actual hike was pretty uneventful. I started telling myself that after finishing Far Mountain and ARCHS. I hadn’t gotten lost. No bears or mad mama moose. I got spritzed on a couple of times, but I didn’t even consider donning my rain jacket. The biggest “event” was when, after finishing Far Mountain, I grabbed a microwave burger and burrito, along with a Coke, at Chena Hot Springs Resort while charging my electronics. I had two electronic navigation devices as well as map and compass. 

Things were still going smoothly even after starting Chena Dome Trail – after hiking for about 24 hours – but I did get sleepy, so I pulled out my emergency bivvy bag and took an hour nap.

My first nap site.

I started struggling when I approached the Drew Harrington Trail Shelter on the Chena Dome Trail. I struggled even more when I realized I had misjudged where the shelter was by a few miles. (Stupid Optimism.) When I finally got to the shelter, I rested and napped another 20 minutes. Overall, the hike had been tiring but uneventful. I noted that several times. 

Tending to my feet at the Drew Harrington Trail Shelter.

Jinx! 

Apparently, my sleep-deprived brain thought things had been too uneventful. That same brain got me turned around atop Chena Dome, the high point of the trail. I mistakenly remembered that the trail bypassed the very top of the dome with a short dogleg to the summit. I summited, happy, then backtracked to the last cairn and surveyed everything before me. I looked at where I had been and where I needed to go and started following the cairns. All was good. 

After about a half-mile I passed mile marker “11.” 

“That’s wrong,” I thought as I passed it. “That should read 10. The trail crews screwed up.”

(I was following the trail backward from the direction normally taken.)

I kept trudging along until I passed the next one marked “12.” I got annoyed. 

“Did they mark new mileages from the summit? No, that’s wrong I haven’t gone that far from the summit. Did they just re-use old markers? That’s bad. That’s going to get hikers all screwed up!”

I’ve read about this phenomenon before. People are convinced they are right, so they shape reality to fit their version of the truth. It happens in all sorts of situations, including out on the trail. It’s even happened to me a couple of times before on hikes, but I’ve always been able to correct myself quickly. This time I kept going. Nothing I saw along the way rang any bells of recognition. I’ll blame sleep deprivation. 

The next mile marker said “13.” And I noticed I hadn’t seen the old plane wreck, which is at about Mile 8.5. I finally turned around and looked back. There was Chena Dome, looking exactly the same as it had a couple of hours before. 

I said something I’m not going to repeat here. I said it loudly. Really loudly. 

Unhappy camper.

Then things got stranger. I didn’t want to turn back. I wanted to keep going the way I had been. I had momentum. Fortunately, I wasn’t that sleep deprived. I did the math. The trail is 29 miles long. I was at Mile 13. I could continue the way I had originally come for 16 miles or turn around and go 13 miles. And the 13 miles would be much, much easier terrain. (Or so I remembered. Ha! Stupid Optimism.) 

The fact that I wouldn’t complete my goal by continuing back the way I had come barely registered. I guess I was so tired I just didn’t care that much. It’s a good thing I didn’t have a bail-out point nearby. 

With some effort I turned myself around and headed back toward Chena Dome, recrossing my path for another hour or so. At first, I was angry. So angry that I actually found energy and sped up! Eventually, my sense of humor rose up and I had to laugh at myself. 

I summitted Chena Dome for the second time and saw that the trail continues across the top and down the other side. I followed the cairns carefully, paying close attention to the trail markers. I was delighted when the next one read “10.” 

I passed the old plane wreck, tired but in a good mood. I remembered that everything past that stayed high. No more steep saddles to hike down and then back up. Stupid optimistic memory. That part of the trail has a couple of deep, steep saddles and some other ups and downs. 

Where the hell did that come from!?

Eventually, I started fading again and took one more 40-minute bivvy nap. Finally, I got to where the trail headed down off the ridges. The downhill steps were still painful, but I was relieved I would not be dealing with any more saddles. When the trail became less steep, I knew I was almost done. But that part of the trail goes on for much farther than I had remembered. Stupid optimistic memory.

Finally! The last descent! 

I finally made the trailhead. Just before I got there I glanced down the Winter Trail, which parallels a portion of Chena Hot Springs Road. I had thought earlier about trying to navigate that boggy route to make my route more “trail pure.” Ha! Forget it! Besides I would have had to cross the West Fork of the Chena River. Nope. 

Winter Trail. Looks nice, but there's bog down there! 

I stopped briefly at the trailhead to tend to my feet. Only a few blisters, but oh so sore. Then I headed out for 6 miles of road walking. There are few things I hate more than walking on pavement. I convinced myself to alternate walking and running every five minutes. You wouldn’t have recognized it as running, but at least I was using some different muscles. 

I was tempted to hitch, but only six cars were headed for the resort when I was on the road, and four of those came by when I was within 1.5 miles of the end. No way I was going to quit that close to closing the loop. 

I got to my car about 10 a.m., 49.5 hours after I had started. A little over my slightly optimistic 20 to 30 hours. But I had made it! 

I’m glad I did it, though I’m still a bit mystified WHY I even tried. Maybe I felt a need to test myself. But I never would have attempted it had I known how long it was really going to take me. I guess it’s good to have some Stupid Optimism if you want to undertake a Really Good Bad Idea. 

Selfie at the finish.

GPS track of my Big Fat Stupid Hike.

Here are a few more photos from the hike:

Lupine on the Far Mountain Trail

Wind-scoured tors on the Far Mountain route.

Caribou antlers and flowers on the Far Mountain route.

Awesome double rainbow while finishing the Far Mountain route.

Alpenglow on the Chena Dome Trail.

Plane wreck on the Chena Dome Trail. 

Night on the Chena Dome Trail.

No Guts, No Glory on the Unbound Gravel XL 350

Well, some days you have it and some days you don’t.  I went back to Emporia, Kansas, to try the 350XL, but I ended up scratching.  My gut tends to be my weak point in endurance events, and this time was no different.  I’ve researched this ad nauseam (pun intended!).  More fluids, more electrolytes, more real food, eating earlier and on a schedule, drinking my calories. You name it, I’ve tried it.  Usually, I can manage the issue and gut it out (again pun intended!) and get enough nutrition in to continue even if I feel nauseated, but sometimes I just have to rest to recover.  And during multi-day bikepacking races it always takes a couple of days for my appetite to return to normal.  

I felt as good as I could going into the XL350.  Of course, I wished I had more miles on the bike, but I had enough, and I tapered for 3 weeks to be sure my legs were fresh for the race.  The weather forecast looked to be pretty good for Kansas in early June.  Warm and breezy, but not as hot or windy as it can be, and no rain, thunderstorms, or tornados in the forecast.  

My flights were all on time and my son Riley picked me up in Kansas City late Wednesday night.  We stayed overnight then drove the next morning to Emporia. We met up with Kirsten, who Riley had agreed to “crew” for.  It’s an unsupported race, but you need somebody who can extricate you from the race if you can’t finish. Several racers needed a crew person, so Riley offered to help another person besides me. I love meeting the other people who like to do these endurance events.  I’ve made some long-lasting friendships this way.  Endurance bikers are good people – even if we are a bit crazy by normal standards. It was fun to meet Kirsten as we got our bibs and had lunch.  

Lunch with Kirsten

I got a good night’s sleep before race day. The race didn’t start until 3 PM which meant I had plenty of time Friday morning to get nervous while waiting. I’ve done plenty of long-distance races.  I’m not trying to beat anybody. My only goal is to finish.  But anytime I line up for any sort of race, I get a bit nervous.  And soon as I start, I’m totally fine.  Such was the case this time, too. The streets were lined with fans cheering us on as we rolled out of town.  I thought this is what it feels like to be a rock star!

The first 40 miles were fast and fun, averaging about 14.5 mph.  I had to keep up a 10 mph pace to finish in the allotted time of 36 hours.  I knew that I would need to stop more and that I would get slower as time went on, so I needed that buffer. We had a tail wind, the gravel was good, with some fun double track areas, and I was riding with a lot of different people, getting a chance to meet and chat with them.  It was pretty hot out there –mid 80’s – but I was good about hydrating.  I also did well with my nutrition, taking in about 200 cal/hour (which is a lot for me).

We came to the first resupply at 40 miles.  Plenty of racers were already there and the small store was packed.  I decided I didn’t need any food (I probably was carrying enough for the entire race), so I just refilled my water bladder and took off.  The next resupply place wouldn’t be until mile 118. 

The miles until sunset went quickly and thankfully the temperature cooled off, maybe down to 65 degrees. The course started turning off onto very rough B roads.  Many were rocky and rutted.  They would be hard to navigate during the day but were even worse after dark.  I was very glad to have my mountain bike.  I just wished I had a brighter light.  I thought about using the high beam on my helmet light but that only lasts a couple of hours.  I needed it for 8-9 hours.  I did have a light on my handlebars, so I turned that on for the downhills.   I would breathe a sigh of relief as we exited a B road onto better gravel but within minutes we would turn down another B road.  I started dreading the signs that said, “Minimal Maintenance, Drive at Your Own Risk”.  Afterwards, someone said there were 30 or so miles of these rough roads that many of us had to ride in the dark.  I thought I would spend the night listening to podcasts or a book or music.  But I had to really concentrate on the road surface and felt like I couldn’t be distracted.  I never got sleepy since I really had to pay attention.  Suffice it to say that my pace really slowed down.  

Kansas sunset

Around 11 PM I started feeling slightly nauseated and had no desire to eat.  I had burritos, homemade rice cakes, Stroop waffles, candy, donuts, crackers, shock blocks and GU’s.  Nothing sounded good.   I ate a couple of crackers, but it was hard getting them to go down. I knew I would be getting to the convenience store in Alma soon and thought a coke might help as it usually does.  With the slow going I rolled in about 2 AM.  Several bikers were there, resting and regrouping.  Some had already decided to scratch.  I scoured the store looking for anything that sounded appetizing.  Nope, nothing looked good.  I spent about 30 minutes drinking a coke and an iced tea, trying to get down some salty Cheetos, and commiserating with the other riders.  I called Riley and woke him up to tell him I thought I might need to scratch and asked if he wanted to just pick me up there in Alma.  He wisely told me I should try to go a little further and see what happened.  He thought I should at least just bike through the night.  Maybe I would recover? Or maybe he just didn’t want to get out of bed at 2 AM and drive.  

Middle of the night at Alma - photo by Jim Farmer

Whatever, I kept going and the gravel conditions did improve.  Riding at night was really cool.  In Alaska, it’s never dark and warm (since it doesn’t get dark in the summer) so that was novel. I could hear frogs and insects.  I heard an owl hoot.  A bat almost flew into me and scared me.  When I turned off my lights, I could see the Milky Way.  And I got to see fireflies which I haven’t seen since I was a kid living in Michigan. And riding all night meant I got to see the sunrise.  It was beautiful.  Most of the night, I had riders around me as we leapfrogged with one another so I never really felt all alone.  It wasn’t until near dawn that I was finally riding by myself.

Kansas sunrise

I took a Zantac and a Zofran (anti-nausea medication) but my stomach never recovered. I took a quick break at around 7 AM and called Riley to let him know I was definitely going to scratch but would try to make it to Alta Vista (mile 188 of the course), which was still almost 40 miles away. I was only able to get down 2 cheese crackers and 2 mini donuts and some sweet iced tea during 10 hours of riding.

Hot and tired and nauseated.  Ready to concede I wasn't going to make it

I continued south into a 15-mph headwind with temperatures rising with the sun.  I passed a turtle and then a skunk that was wandering all over the road.  Even if I didn’t feel great, I was still happy to be riding my bike. The Kansas countryside is quite pretty with varying terrain.  

No turtles in Alaska so fun to see one

I was still 17 miles away from Alta Vista when Riley texted me that he was there.  I had just stopped to slowly eat a Stroop waffle. Unfortunately, I gagged which then led to me vomiting.  After a couple minutes of dry heaving, which caused my abdominal muscles to cramp (adding insult to injury), I got back on my bike and started riding again. 

After vomiting, I felt slightly better.  I was still in good spirits as I arrived at Little Egypt, a really rutted, rocky steep down-and-up part of the course.  There were people out waiting for the 200 mile racers.  This is considered to be the gnarliest part of the route, but I don’t know, it didn’t seem that bad compared to what I had ridden in the dark. I was able to cleanly ride it except for a small section when an ATV drove by.  Once again, glad to have a mountain bike!  I passed another XL racer here who was walking and said he was done.  After Little Egypt there was another steep down-and-up with a water crossing.  There were some media guys waiting for the 200 mile racers and I teased them for not getting video of my awesome water crossing and my cranking all the way up the rocky hill right after it.  They laughed and then did a video sound bite with me. That was fun. The media guys said the lead 200 mile racers would be by fairly soon.

Happy I was able to ride up Little Egypt

It seemed like it was all uphill to Alta Vista and it was definitely into a headwind that seemed to be getting stronger.  I kept looking over my shoulder as I didn’t want to be in the way of the fast racers as they flew past me, but I managed to finish before they came through. I thought about riding another 12 miles past Alta Vista to make it an even 200 miles for the day but decided I was done.  It took me so long to do the last 17 miles that Riley had time to rescue another 350XL rider and take her back to Emporia while I was still riding. Riley and I got to watch the lead groups of the 200 mile racers come through after I finished.  It was fun to see them. 

Thumbs up that I made it to Alta Vista

Lead pack for the 200 mile racers 

I still didn’t feel like eating, but ice cream sounded good so we stopped at a Dairy Queen to get a soft serve cone, which helped my stomach.  By the time we got back to our hotel 1.5 hours later and I had a shower I felt much better and was hungry.  Kirsten called and was scratching so we grabbed a burger and fries and drove all the way back to pick her up. By the time we got home again, I was ready for dinner number 2!  I was glad my gut recovered so quickly.

Our hero, Riley, who drove to pick up Laura, Kirsten and me when we scratched!

I ended up biking 188 miles in 20.5 hours with 11,234 feet elevation gain.   When I did the DK 200, I rode 200 miles in 19 hours so it was definitely slower going this year.  I was happy that I had no melt downs and stayed mostly upbeat the entire time, even with my stomach issues and the heat and the headwinds. 

Am I sorry I scratched?  Yes and no. I would have liked to complete the race but there really wasn’t any way I could have ridden another 170 miles on no nutrition into a headwind in hot temperatures.  And I was glad I didn’t have to stay up for 2 nights.  I got a good night’s sleep and felt recovered enough Sunday to go for a 20 mile fun bike ride with Riley.  So, no regrets.  And I did feel better that more than half the racers scratched this year.  According to some return riders it was a much harder course than other years.

Will I be back?  I don’t think so.  There are so many other places to see and races to try. And I’m wondering if my ability to suffer is lessening as I’m aging!  But I’m glad I tried the 350XL.  It’s good to push your boundaries.  And the Unbound Gravel race is so much fun.  Riding bikes on Kansas gravel is well worth the trip.

2019 Dirty Kanza 200

 

Post by Corrine

It was a perfect day except a little too hot for my tastes. Highs in the upper 80’s, winds only 5-10 mph and no rain, thunderstorms or tornados like the last week! 

The course was in great shape. There was almost no mud this year. There were a few water crossings that were easy to bike across. The roads were a mix of good gravel roads, rough gravel roads with chunky gravel and ruts and 2 track. No washboard. All rideable, but I’m glad I took my mountain bike. You would not want a really skinny gravel tire. It was amazing how many people flatted and how many people lost water bottles on the course! Winds were from the west so headwinds at times but nothing bad, just annoying.

The terrain was rolling hills with lots of prairie and grasslands. Very rural. The only towns we went through were at the checkpoints. It was a very hilly course (9800 feet elevation gain) although all the hills were pretty short. No long grinds. You would spend 3-4 minutes climbing a hill and one minute going down, so it seemed like you spent all of your time climbing. All the hills were bikeable but after getting hot and tired, I did walk up about 4-5 hills that were probably 12-15% grade. Once again I was glad to have my mountain bike with a granny gear. 

There were only 2 checkpoints, one at 62 miles and one at 151 miles. There was a neutral water spot at 120 miles. Riley was my crew and did a great job of cleaning my chain, getting me cold drinks, feeding me, loading up my camel back and taking photos and videos.

Neutral water stop - Lots of people trying to recover

1000 people sign up for the DK200. I had people around me all day. There was never a time that I didn’t see somebody around me and I was constantly going back and forth with people. I’m not used to this. Some people come to race but there are also a lot of regular people like me. It was really fun to meet people from all over the world during the race. 

At the start.  I was near the back of the 1000 riders

Still more people behind me, too!

Pretty strange to be in an endurance race with people all around you

I finished 731/870 finishers. I was also 104/141 for women. I’m usually at the very bottom of the finishers so I felt good that I wasn’t last! But I was the slowest of the 3 women over 60 who did it. I guess women bikers over 60 ROCK!

I felt great for the first 80 miles. I breezed into the first checkpoint at 62 miles having averaged 14.2 mph. I felt good and had hopes of finishing before midnight. I refueled and headed on my way. 

At around mile 80 I came upon an accident. A woman went over her handlebars on a steep downhill and was lying in the dirt. Her friends were with her. I stopped to help out. She had a concussion and a large scalp laceration that, of course, was bleeding a lot and was freaking her out. She had scrapes and bruises but otherwise seemed okay. We got her moved into the shade to wait for the ambulance. Once I was sure she was stable, I took off. At the bottom of that very same hill there was a curve. Another biker came bombing down and laid his bike down.  I made sure he was okay and had no major injuries - just bad road rash - before finally continuing on my way. I also gave some moleskin to another woman who had blisters on her hands from her gloves. 

The second part of the course was pretty brutal, and it was HOT! By mile 85 the heat and sun started getting to me. It definitely affected my race. I had to walk up one hill and had to sit down halfway up in the shade because I felt lightheaded. My stomach wasn’t great but was doing okay. I couldn’t eat much real food but had some GU’s to help keep me going. I kept biking but definitely felt slow on the uphills. A lot of people were feeling the very same way.

Feeling a bit hot and tired

Other racers recuperating in the shade -I was back and forth with this woman, Krista, for a lot of the race

It seemed like forever before I got to the 2nd checkpoint. Riley was ready and waiting for me. My stomach was not feeling great, but I ate watermelon and had some chicken broth that went down well. I decided to eat some ham (thinking the salt would be good). Bad idea. It didn’t taste good, so I decided to spit it out. Unfortunately, that set up a gag response and I lost all the calories that I had just put in me. It also made me feel more nauseated. 

Oh well, only 50 miles to go, I had to get going. I took some GU’s, a coke, and put sweet iced tea in my water bottle. I ended up only drinking the coke for the final 50 miles because I was afraid of vomiting again, but with the sun going down and cooler temperatures I recovered, except for the nausea, and was able to move quicker. I’m surprised I was able to bike hard for 4 hours with only a coke for fuel. I was afraid I was going to bonk but didn’t.

I made a quick stop at the Salsa Chaise Lounge to have my picture taken (it’s a really fun part of some gravel races.)

Then I picked up the pace and hammered (for me) the rest of the way. I passed about 15-20 people in the last 10 miles. I ended up coming in with 5 guys at about 1:10 AM for a time of 19 hours 10 minutes. I was tired but happy and felt good except for the queasy stomach. 

At the finish - photo by Steve Cannon

It was not called the Dirty Kanza for nothing! - Note - name has been changed to Unbound Gravel

This is a great race. Emporia really embraces the race, and everybody comes out to cheer and volunteer. There is a lot of great energy in town. But it has a nice low key midwestern vibe (unlike Leadville which felt more ramped up when I raced there a few years ago). I would totally recommend this race!

Locals out at 6:30 AM cheering on the racers. Gotta love that!

Extending Winter Trails into May

Blog post by Eric

I am a trails geek. 

I like doing pretty much anything human-powered on trails. So, I don’t like this time of year. The trails are in transition. The snow is slowly melting. As it does, the snow trails deteriorate, usually revealing muddy trails. I don’t want to make lots of tracks in that mud. It can harden as the trails dry out, creating ruts and rough surfaces that are unpleasant to use and keep water from draining off the trail. 

I used to just shrug and resign myself to biking and running the roads for a while. But the past couple of years I have been experimenting. I’ve used some fish-scale skis Corrine bought a few years back. She didn't like them and quit using them. We were going to get rid of them, but I began to wonder how they would be for late-season skiing. 

The ridge trail behind our neighborhood is shaded and mostly north-facing. It holds snow for a long time. I’ve avoided using it this time of year because it’s too icy, or too punchy, or has sections of dirt between the snow sections. But then I remembered the fish-scale skis and gave them a try. I discovered that if I time my outing right, the trail is skiable. The proper timing varies depending on what the temperature has been doing. (The ground is still mostly frozen this time of year, so that helps keep the snow frozen.) The conditions aren’t great, and the skis are slow, but it's better than being on the road.  

This past Saturday afternoon, I hiked up to the powerline behind our house and put on the skis. The powerline trail falls apart in a hurry. It gets a lot of sun and isn’t as packed, because it’s a side trail that doesn’t get a lot of traffic. Once I got into the shaded forest, things got better. However, some of those trees prevent snow from reaching the ground through the winter. Those places melt out to dirt pretty quickly. That’s why it’s good to have skis you don’t really care about. Instead of taking my skis off and on, I can just walk on my skis over those parts. 

At the old burn on the O'Connor Creek East Ridge Trail, following someone else's ski tracks. 

On Saturday, I skied five miles out our ridge trail. I made it to the powerline trail that parallels Old Murphy Dome Road. I could have skied even farther. For most of our ridge trail I followed someone else’s ski tracks, so clearly I’m not the only one with this idea. The snow conditions varied, sticky in places with a lot of sun exposure, but mostly it was halfway decent. Some places were really nice. The snow trail felt solid the whole way. It had been melting but not falling apart. 

This section on the OMDR powerline trail was really nice for skiing.

That got me to thinking about my fatbike. I figured if I went out early, I could catch the trail while it was still hard. I was right! I headed out right after breakfast and had a great ride. 

OK, great is a bit of a stretch. The trail sections near subdivisions were pretty bumpy from the frozen tracks of all the people who walk later in the day when the snow is soft. And there were a couple of challenging sections, but overall it was a good ride. 

On my Sunday bike ride, where I had turned around on skis the day before.

I rode the whole ridge trail to the OMDR powerline trail and then kept going. Not too long after where I had turned around on my skis, the trail was melted down to dirt for a long section. But it wasn’t muddy, so I kept going. 

This would not have been good on skis! Still, I might have been able to ski to the right. Hmmm.

I rode all the way to the pipeline, which still had quite a bit of snow. Several people had taken ATVs on it when the snow was soft. Lots of ruts. But I found I could ride the snow off to the side without punching through. The riding was a bit tricky, but doable. 

The pipeline had a surprising amount of snow. 

I made it to the Waterford Trail and found that was covered with solid snow, too. Down low, near the trailhead, some places had melted out, but the ground was mostly still frozen. I was able to avoid the few muddy parts. 

High up on the Waterford Trail, near the pipeline. 

Even low down near the trailhead, the Waterford Trail was mostly snow. 

From there it was just a matter of riding the roads back to our house. I’m not crazy about road riding, but it’s worth it to connect a loop that’s mostly trails. Almost 17 miles and a bit over three hours. I was contented! 

Part of me keeps saying it’s time to put the skis and fatbike in storage, but another part tells me to see how long I can keep this up. It’s kind of fun to head out and see how things have changed. Heck, maybe next time I’ll pull out my snowshoes and see how far I can tromp. 

Ski outing

Bike outing

Oh, and you don't get to see things like this when you're out on the roads. 

This grouse swooped low but didn't land until much later. 

I haven't figured out what made these tracks. (The animals tracks, that is.)