October 28, 2017

Hiking Kilimanjaro

On Thursday October 5, 2017 Jason and I left the girls behind in Crested Butte with Grandma for 2 weeks so that we could travel to Tanzania.  There were two major parts to the trip: hiking Kilimanjaro and a safari.  This post is about the hike.

This trip required some significant planning: two weeks of kids-free travel had to be efficient!  We saved up money, researched different hiking routes and companies, trained physically, spent time at elevation, had vaccinations, started malaria and high altitude medicine, and bought the appropriate gear.

We were weary from travel right away.  5 hours of driving from CB to Denver, then flying to Washington Dulles.  We had an overnight layover there, which we spent at Grandma's house (even though she was in CB).  Friday we had a 13.5 hour flight to Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, and then another 2.5 hours flight to JRO Kilimanjaro International Airport.  We were very thankful to have a Zara Tours representative meet us inside the airport with our names written on a board, ready to pick us up at 2pm on a Sat afternoon.  All of our luggage also arrived intact, which was awesome.
Plane wing and Mt Meru, Arusha














Many people would have arrived Sat and started trekking Sunday, but we built in one rest day so our trek started Monday.  This was a difficult decision, as days were numbered, but a good one in the end.  Jet lag made sleeping difficult after such a long journey, and we wanted to make our hike as successful as possible.  It also took some organizing to pack and re-pack, making sure we had the right gear for the trek, and leaving safari gear in hotel storage.



viewing Mt. Kilimanjaro from Moshi, at 3000ft
Our hotel, which was awesome






These kids all wanted to touch us and hold our hands





















Monday: Day One
Met our jeep and guides at 8:30am.  Drove about 3-4 hours to the park gate.  We saw zebras on the way, and looking out the window to watch the African world go by was awesome.
We arrived at the park gate to a busy scene of permits, groups, many jeeps, much gear, and porters everywhere.  We ate our packed lunches while watching the scene.  Porters are only allowed to carry 20kg of group gear each, plus their own gear.  There were park rangers weighing packs and each porter had to pass this 'weighing' and balancing game of the group gear before proceeding.  We met other travelers from other places, as well as a few from Colorado.  Excitement and nervousness filled the air.
Lemosho gate and registration to the park

Porters lining up to have their items weighed in
 When allowed through the gate, we left others doing the Lemosho Route and drove further into the park.  We were doing the Shira route, which is a 6 day trek that starts at higher altitude than the 7 or 8 day similar Lemosho route.  Because we live at 8600 feet, we didn't feel like we needed to spend the first 1-2 days 'acclimatizing' to this type of altitude.
Our hike started at 11,200 feet along a jeep road in the warm sun, and then on to single track with a little bit more climbing.  We walked with our lead guide Mr. Babuu, who was calm and quiet and professional, but able to speak English well enough to tell us about himself and the park.  He encouraged us to walk 'pole, pole' or 'slowly, slowly' as that is the theme for the whole mountain experience.  There is no rushing on the hike for tourists, and they encourage very slow going to make a successful summit more likely.





 Our first day was just over 3 hours of hiking, and 6.4 miles long (10.5km) to camp at Shira 2 camp 12,800 feet.  This was a much less grueling first day than we had anticipated from the written information we were given, since we drove into the park further than we expected.
Camp was fairly busy, with tents everywhere and a little walking distance to the camp toilets.  We got used to the walk to go squat into a hole in a tile floor several times, as we were encouraged to drink 3-4 L of water per day.
Our tent was already set up - a 3 person tent with a large vestibule that had a small eating table and two chairs inside.  Shortly after arriving at camp and signing in, we were served popcorn and hot tea, and then our first dinner.
Meals were huge.  For dinner we might have soup, bread, rice, chicken, vegetables in huge quantities.  Our 'waiter', named Ben, just kept coming with more food!  We weren't quite sure if we should continue to eat and stuff ourselves, so we did our best.  People talked about loss of appetite with increased altitude, so we ate all that we could to have energy for the summit day.
It was chilly when the sun went down, and we were eager for sleep after still having some jet lag.  I had purchased a new sleeping bag for the trek that could serve me down to -20F, and I was thankful for this awesome warmth at night.  Jason was a little chilly in his -7F bag, but did fine throughout the rest of the nights.










Tuesday: Day Two
Tuesday was the first real test of altitude, and we were excited to note that we felt well as we climbed up.  We climbed from camp at 12,800 feet up to the Lava Tower at 15,200 feet for lunch.  It snowed lightly and was cold up high, but the landscape was cool.  At lunch, our assistant guide, Mr. Mango, whipped out a thermos of hot tea for us to keep us warm in the cool weather.

It was also fun entertainment to have the porters and other hikers going by on the trail.  As we went 'pole pole', porters carrying stuff would go by.
Tourist: "Jambo." (Hello)
Porter: "Jambo."
Tourist: "Mambo?" (How are you?)
Porter: "Poa." (cool)
Tourist: "Poa Poa."  (cool cool)
Porter: "Pole pole" (slowly, slowly)
Tourist: "Asante" (thank you)

We had a similar conversation every few minutes, with smiling Africans all around.  Some other tourists were struggling more at the high altitude than we were.





Lava Tower 15,200 feet


Our guide Mr. Babuu, staying warm with Masai blanket


On the descent down from the Lava Tower, Jason showed the guides running downhill on the single track, since it's actually a little easier for him to descend fast than to plod along slowly.  The guides thought he was crazy, and continued to encourage us to go 'pole pole' to be safe.  Jason's leg (he had broken his left tibial plateau badly on March 5, 2017) held up well on the descent down into camp, with no problems at all.

We met two other groups from our same company coming into the Barranco Camp (13,100 feet) that evening.  We met a couple named Ali and Gordon, from Scotland.  Ali kept stopping and looking around, saying 'isn't this beautiful?' and 'this is amazeballs!' and other fun positive expressions.  The landscape here was gorgeous - glacier on the hidden mountain in clouds above us, thin waterfalls nearby with cool alpine desert plants and a few flowers scattered near the trail.  Gordon had just celebrated his 53rd birthday, and they were using this trip to raise money and awareness for Alzheimer's, which Ali's mother was suffering from at home.  The couple hadn't been sleeping well any nights on their trek so far, and were still happy and smiling despite lack of sleep.



 
tea, popcorn, peanuts for snack shortly arriving at camp
 During snack in our tent that evening, a hail storm rolled through camp.  We were nicely secured in our tent, listening to the sound of the strong hail hammer the camp.  Our 'waiter' Ben came around our tent, using his fingers to dig a little trench around the edge of our tent, so that the hail would sit in the trench instead of running through the underside of our tent.  He did this for us in the storm while only wearing a heavy fleece and hat - no rain jacket.  We started making plans to figure out how to donate a jacket to him and other gear to other members of our group that didn't have enough warm gear.

that's a lot of down, warm, puffy material!


our company tents

At camp after the storm rolled in, I was wearing two puffy jackets, long johns and puffy pants, with warm hat, rain jacket and warm gloves.  But we didn't see any of the locals at camp wearing gloves.  Many of the porters wore jeans and sneakers and hoodies with a warm hat, but there wasn't much Goretex or quality gear around.

That evening we also saw another two friends we had met when we arrived at the airport.  Steph was a girl about 30 years old from Namibia, and traveling with another friend named Nic from New Zealand.  They had still been hiking down during the hail storm, and were both feeling ill with headaches from the altitude.
Ali and I both wearing a lot of clothes at camp (evening)

Mr. Babuu, with summit not quite visible behind


I started feeling more confident about our altitude situation, although the unknown of going from 15,200 feet up to the summit at 19,300 feet was anxiety-provoking.  I started worrying a little more about the cold, and how I would possibly stay warm enough in the middle of the night hiking up to that high altitude.

I slept really well that night for the first time since my arrival, finally kicking jet lag out and happily warm and dry in my sleeping bag and tent.  Jason and I enjoyed the stars overhead on our overnight walk to the outhouse, and wondered if the people up above us aiming for the summit were also enjoying the starry sky.

Wednesday: Day Three

Leaving Barranco Camp we said goodbye to our friends, as they were going to base camp that night and would start the trek at midnight.  We had an extra day, so we only hiked a little bit further along this day.

We started out of Barranco Camp with a steep climb called 'Breakfast'.  Unfortunately, there was a little bit of drama because a porter had fallen and hurt her back, and she was limping back down to camp, obviously uncomfortable.  I wished I could have done something to help her, and especially had a soft spot in my heart for the female porters.  There were only a handful of female porters on the mountain - definitely a male-dominated job - and I secretly cheered for any progressive female roles I could while we were on our trip.

For example, our company, Zara tours, was on of the larger Tanzania-based tour operators for safaris.  The company, which included 150 lead guides, 2000 porters on staff, a charity, a preschool, and two lovely hotels, was owned by a female.  We saw many successful women business owners on our trip.


Heading up 'breakfast', out of camp

Our guide Babuu on left, Mr. Mango on right


Top of climb for the day


clouds come in and out above


Mr. Mango, out assistant guide


Treating water with steri pen

Karanga Camp, about 13,250 feet
We had a short hike to the Karanga Camp, with another short-but-steep descent down and then a short-but-steep ascent into camp.  In the valley below camp was the last water source available for the next two nights.  Porters had some logistics and hard work to carry water from this stream to base camp and support everyone's water needs for summit day.  We filled bottles and treated our own water before the ascent, hoping to reduce someone's work load a little bit going forward.  We were thankful to have our Steripen with us; even though at camp the water we had was boiled, we felt better with this extra purification.
We sleep on the right and eat on the left

evening view of the mountain above (summit not visible)






Karanga (which means peanut) Camp was on a hillside, with some new views of the mountain above us coming in and out of the clouds.  We arrived at camp by lunch time to see Ali, Gordon, Steph and Nic leaving after their lunch, and wished them well on their summit push that night.

We met another Colorado hiker (Luke) from our plane ride, who would be going for the summit with us along with his group of 3 other travelers (Ryan from Colorado, Jim, and a lady from North Carolina).  It was fun to check out different companies, different gear, and watch the porters organizing everything.

We had the afternoon to just relax, read our books, walk around camp.  Camp was windy and dusty, but we were thankful that we felt well, as some neighbors in some nearby tents were quite ill throughout the night.  It was a little strange to just hang out and wait, while porters carried water to and from, and other friends had pushed on ahead.  But they had a big hike that day to get to base camp, and then had to start at midnight after that big day, and we had more time to just relax above 13000 feet, drink water, and eat eat eat all the food that was given to us.

The visible part of the mountain above us showed itself more clearly that evening for a beautiful sunset, and I wondered how it might feel to climb 6000 feet higher than we were at camp.  Looking up, it felt like a 14er was sitting just above us, and it didn't look too daunting.  I started to get excited.

Thursday: Day Four
We woke and left Karanga Camp to climb up toward Base Camp.  I was eager to get to the place where we could see the summit, and get a sense of how high it was above us.  We could see to a ridge with glaciers above us, but I wondered if that was actually the top or if there was some larger summit hiding around the corner.  It turns out there wasn't much more to the summit, and the ridgeline was really close to the top.  When we arrived at base camp, called Barafu camp at 15,200 feet, we could see to 18,900 feet 'Stella Point', and then knew that there was just over 300 feet further beyond that point.



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Arriving at base camp (15,200ft)

Our tent, fairly high up in the huge mass of tents that makes up Barafu

We arrived at base camp at about lunch time, and were entertained at all that was going on.  I'd never been to such a busy campground.  Tents and tents and tents all over the place - some down lower and some up higher.  Some huge groups and some smaller groups.  Some really nice new tents and some older ones.

There were people arriving at camp like us, some feeling well, like us, and some not.  There were people who had just returned from a successful summit and were glowing with excitement and stories of the challenge and the cold.  And then, as we had our hot lunch and watched the trail above us, we saw many people really struggling to come down.  Several people hunched way over, no pack on, being carried/supported on either side by helpers, looking terrible.

We saw our friends.  Ali and Gordon had successfully reached the summit and were trying to have a short rest before continuing their descent.  They were very tired and just said 'that was tough' several times.  They really didn't want to have to descend down to camp below, as they were exhausted and just wanted to sleep, they said.  Steph and Ali had also reached the summit, although they described themselves to feel unwell right from the start, and said 'I guess that was a good experience, but we felt like total sh*t.'

We tried to rest.  It was hot inside the tent with the afternoon sun streaming in.  But it was noisy, dusty, and windy outside the tent and difficult to rest.  We continued to drink water, but the outhouse was a little ways downhill and it took quite an effort to hike back up from the outhouse to our tent after each trip.

We had an early dinner, packed up our day packs, laid out our clothes, and tried to rest.


Thursday at 11pm - Friday night: Day Five
Alarm goes off at 11pm and we woke to get dressed.

I put on eight layers on my top: merino wool tshirt, two merino wool long sleeved tops, two fleece tops, thin puffy coat, huge thick puffy coat, Goretex rain shell.  I put on four pairs of pants: fleece long johns, puffy pants, windshell, rain pants.  Warm socks, shoes.  Warm ski mittens with hand warmers inside.  Buff over my chin and ears, warm hat on head.

How can one move when they are wearing this much?!?  And if I am wearing too much and I get too warm and sweat, won't that be worse?

We were served hot water and chocolate wafer cookies.  I was not hungry but tried to drink what I could.

We started hiking behind Mr. Babuu and had Mr. Mango come behind us.  Mr. Babuu was not carrying anything, and Mr. Mango had a full daypack.  I asked Babuu why he didn't have a pack, and he said that he could then take our daypacks when and if we weren't feeling well.  Mango had oxygen, first aid, etc.  and both of them were now wearing gloves, although I was still wearing 6 layers more than each of them and they both seemed cold.

The hike was steep.  But there wasn't much to see except the headlamp lighting up the shoes of Babuu in front.  So Babuu stepped forward and I followed his steps.  Pole pole.

I wasn't cold.  But we also were going so, so slowly that I wasn't exactly generating much heat, either.  I gave my handwarmers to the guides as my hands were too warm.  I unzipped some layers as I warmed up some.

We passed the 'high camp' of base camp, which took about 45 minutes to walk to from our tent.  Some people will camp up a little higher to reduce the distance of the walk, but there are no facilities up there so only the fancier camps with portable toilets were up there.

At some point early on, we stopped for 'maji' (water).  I unlocked the valve to my camelback hose in order to drink, but the plastic valve broke in the cold and part of it went flying away.  Jason helped close it so it wouldn't drip everywhere, but I didn't have the ability to drink from the hose anymore.  I did have a Nalgene of water in my daypack, so I switched to drinking that, and just carried the other 2L of water in my bladder around for fun after that.

Pole, pole.  One step, then another.

We didn't speak much.  Our two guides spoke back and forth much more than usual in Swahili, which helped keep me more alert as I was sleepy.

The moon (about half full) rose up, a little higher, little higher.

We still felt good at 16,000 feet.  We did fine at 16,500 feet.  Still happy at 17,000 feet.  The stars were beautiful and the moon encouraged us along.

We saw little lights from hikers above us and from many more below.  You could make out the shadows of a ridgeline above, but it would come and go and I wasn't entirely sure how far away our target ridge was above us.

Jason kept himself awake by counting to 100 with his steps, then counting again in different languages.  I just tried to stay awake.  At 17,500 feet I felt sluggish, but not unwell, and felt quietly excited about that.

I was equally excited about sunrise and the promise of warmth and light as I was about reaching the 19300 foot mark.  I started calculating that we ascended about 500 feet every 45 minutes, give or take, and just tried to celebrate every 500 feet as a little bit closer to the top and closer to sunrise.

At about 4am, I remember thinking that a sunrise at 6:20am still seemed like a really long way away.

At 18,000 feet Jason had to find a rock to hide behind as a toilet, and our friends Luke and Ryan passed us, giving us high fives and everyone excited to be feeling well.  Their other two companions were a bit lower down below.

Shortly after those high-fives, things went into much slower, steeper, windier, and colder mode.  I added new hand warmers to my gloves and zipped up all zippers of all layers and coats.  I followed the footsteps of my guide ahead, and dreamed of stopping to rest and have more water.  I was getting into a cycle: stop for water and a gel or some sugar and feel good, feel happy, feel excited.  Start walking and things slow down, feel sluggish, move forward, wonder how much longer until the next break, wonder if I will start to get a headache or feel sick or what as we go up, think it's been a long time since our last break and surely it's time to stop again.  Ask for a water break, and go 'a little further' with the guide toward the next set of rocks and then have water, have some sugar, and feel much better again.

Jason (who had given me his warm ski mitts and had on less warm winter cycling gloves) was starting to have to work harder to keep his hands warm.

Stella Point is at about 18,900 feet, and the end of a steep ascent.  The climb is adjacent to a large glacier that shines in the moonlight.  But the shadow of the ridge, the little headlights above, and the snow of the glacier didn't seem to get any closer and we kept stepping forward.  It seemed pretty endless, like the ridge above moved away from us just as we thought we might be getting closer.

At some point, maybe around 18,500 feet, we stopped and our guides said encouraging things.  We were both tired mentally and physically.  I think I knew we would make it and I was happy I wasn't ill, but it did seem relentless in the dark, cold, steep, windy forward progression.  Then Mango magically handed us each a cup of hot, sugary tea.  I was thrilled for a little longer rest, as I could have curled up for a nap right there.  But Jason was stoked about this tea.  Not normally one to drink hot drinks, he chugged his tea, stood up with a huge smile, warmed from the inside out, and seemed like a new man - ready to get to the top!

We arrived at Stella Point and there was much relief.  The steep climb was over.  There's a sign there that welcomes you to Stella Point, and we merged with other hikers coming in from the Marangu route.  Our guides hugged us and told us were were doing great.  I was thankful to find a large rock that offered some wind block and get out of the noise of the wind and catch my breath.  I felt foggy.  I had a little bit of a headache.

The clouds were all below us, just getting lit up now by the dawn of morning and the first bits of pink sky entering the day.  Night was ending.

From Stella Point to Uhuru, the terrain changes drastically as you walk along the edge of the volcano crater and ascend mildly.  Jason and I switched gloves as I knew his hands were very cold.  Our guides started walking along, chatting happily with each other. I wasn't really capable of chatting.  It was so windy, and I was thrilled but exhausted and still not there.  Still not quite sure of our final destination and if false summits were still ahead.

We walked along the crater edge and the sun slowly started to emerge.  A large glacier was visible to the left.  The mood was celebratory, but I didn't quite feel ready to celebrate.  I felt cold, and I was irritated that the wind wouldn't lessen anywhere.

We approached the end and I saw the final destination, and then I felt like I could celebrate.  We arrived to the sign as it became bathed in sunlight and the actual ball of light emerged to greet us with a good morning.  I read the sign as I approached it, and started weeping.  I had dreamed of seeing that sign for some time, and we had done it.

There were a handful of other hikers ahead, and a bit of a line up to take photos.  Our hands were cold and the wind continued, and we fumbled to get our phones out to take pictures.  Phones were slow to turn on in the cold.  We took our photos, and our hands became very cold with any exposure out of the gloves. Some estimates placed the temperature about about -20 Celsius (-5 Fahrenheit), with 25-30mph winds.
Mango, Jason, Meggan, Babuu

M and J holding a copy of CB News

The sun cast a shadow of Uhuru Peak on to the clouds below.

Happy, but cold and a bit out of it.  Wearing so many clothes!

I didn't want to stay up there and celebrate, except for a few hugs and high fives.  Luke and Ryan were up there also, happy.  It was gorgeous for sure.  The sun cast a shadow of Uhuru Peak on to the clouds below, and the glaciers lit up around us.  But I didn't feel well.  I wanted to get down and get more oxygen and get out of the wind and into more sunlight for warmth.

I still felt weird and groggy until reaching Stella Point.  But the large rock and wind block there, with a sip of juice, and the promise of a descent in the sun, was awesome.  People were on their way up, and some looked good and some not so good, and we tried to offer words of encouragement.  We saw Jim and the lady from North Carolina slowly on their way up, also.




 On the way down, the sun started to warm us up and we got to a place out of the wind, and I felt miles better.  Jason and Mango went on ahead, enjoying a fast scree descent into the sunshine.  I was a little slower, stopping to take off layer after layer and enjoy the warmth of the day and the pride that we had done it.

We got back to camp by about 8:30am.  Jason's leg had done really well with the 4000 foot descent back to base camp.  Camp was dusty and windy and we didn't really want to hang out there anymore - we wanted to keep going down.  But we were sleepy and hungry.  It was hard to know what to satisfy first - eat, lie down, change clothes, take photos, drink water, pack up camp, use the bathroom?

We had a meal at about 9:30am, lay down for a little while, changed and got organized.  As the morning progressed we saw more people coming down, and some people looked terrible.
Seeing base camp from above, coming down.


We were happy to leave base camp at around 11:30am and happy to go toward a new camp with less confusion, less dust, less wind, less cold.  It was a long way down.  They say it's a 4 hour descent with almost 4000 feet of more drop.  It was warm and that felt lovely.

The trail is rocky and dusty, with many large steps carved into the trail.  Steps at an awkward stepping distance that serve to keep the trail intact during the rainy season, but make footing difficult on the way down.  We hit more trees and more flowers and started to smell more greenery, which felt lovely after having been above treeline for many days.  My knees were sore.

Trying to see if I can help a hurt foot.

Our amazing crew of 10!
We made it to Mweka Camp as the porters had just finished putting up our tent, and we enjoyed relaxing and celebrating.  I was really excited that Jason's knee had taken him down the almost 8000 feet of descending with barely a limp.  He would end up having a little bit of swelling and soreness in the next couple of days, but I felt so relieved to watch him descend strongly.

That evening our group of 10 supporters (6 porters, 1 cook, 1 'waiter', 1 assistant guide, 1 head guide) sang us two songs and we took group photos.



We slept very well.

Saturday: Day 6
We left camp at 7am and continued the descent down.  Porters stepped up the pace on this descent, as everyone was eager to be done and get back to homes, showers, families, etc.

We walked down through a beautiful forest, and I enjoyed the trees and flowers and mosses and sweet green smells.  We saw some monkeys, but didn't stop for long to enjoy them as we wanted to get down and out.

Our van trip back to the hotel was smelly but lovely.  The porters enjoyed watching the video we took of them singing the night before. Returning to the hotel to shower, eat, and relax was awesome.
Cool plants, green, and monkeys on the way down.

Taken for Pops.






March 26, 2017

The Grand Traverse Race Report

Who wants to ski from Crested Butte to Aspen, starting at midnight?

I'm not entirely sure what drove us to sign up for this race.  It seemed like the thing to do around here, and a good goal to keep in shape during the winter.  I love the idea of a traverse, and anything that takes me from point A to point B seems pretty cool.  I asked around for a partner, and Christie was keen.

We have spent the winter training for this event, learning about skimo racing, buying a lot of gear, trying to learn as much as we could about the course, and learning how to support each other.  It's taken a huge toll on our schedules and our families.  We have been terrified of it from the beginning, as it's a very hard core event.  Skiing in the dark, skiing icy steep descents, going 40 miles, being in remote locations without options to easily stop, and battling the elements are all tough parts of this race for us.

Our goals for the race were:
1) stay safe
2) raise money for Living Journeys, a local non-profit supporting people with cancer.  We have raised over $2100 so far!
3) get to Aspen
4) finish in 16 hours or less

The hardest part of 'getting to Aspen' was likely going to be 'getting to the top of Star Pass before the cutoff times', because we are not fast.  So the race against the cutoffs and the clock created a certain stress that is not in line with 'having fun' and 'enjoying the process'.

3 weeks before the race start, Jason broke his leg.  It's a bad break, and he needs lots of support.  For a few days, I quit the race, thinking I wouldn't be able to do it and be there for my family.  But the thought of quitting made me sob with disappointment for me and my partner.  So I was very grateful when Jason and his mother Susan encouraged me to continue on and take the start line.  I think that really helped me realize how badly I wanted to get there.

Race Report

Part 1: The start, up Mt. Crested Butte ski resort, and down off the resort into the East River Valley.
The mass start was crowded and we just went with the flow up the mountain.  We couldn't go any faster because there were skiers everywhere!  At the top of the climb (the 5 way), we had planned to rip our skins and skate, but there wasn't room to skate because of the crowd.  After a few more minutes of skiing, things opened up and we had room to take off our climbing skins and skate, which was much faster, and we passed lots of folks.
Scary Part #1: Descending off the resort and on Indian Trail
Skiing fast downhill in the dark is not in my comfort zone.  We had practiced this part, knowing it would be scary for us.  The on-resort groomed part was ok, but then it becme steeper and snow conditions got worse.  It was hard to see what was ahead with only a headlamp on, and there were lots of other skiers to avoid.
Thing we did well: made a plan to wait for each other before crossing the bridge in case we became separated, which we did, and we found each other again easily.  High-fived each other for making it down scary part #1.

Part 2: East River Valley
We thought this part would be a long traverse with skins on or possibly some skating sections.  We also had heard there were 3-4 gullies, one of which would be a true creek crossing that might get our feet wet, so we had trash bags ready.

It turns out there was a lot of climbing and descending.  I do not know where these huge hills came from, as I'm quite certain this area seems flat when I look at it!  We transitioned several times, boot packed twice, descended some gnarly icy slopes, but did not get wet feet.  One of the boot packs was straight up 30 feet, and we secured our skis to our pack while we waited in line to climb up.  We were glad that worked out because we had never practiced any boot packing or securing our skis to the back of our packs before.

Near the end of this section, when we were wondering how much longer it would be, Christie made me panic: She said, "I'm worried about our time and the cutoffs", even though we had been 5 miles in an hour, and were on good pace, we had to speed up.  The stress continued...

Part 3: Brush Creek to Death Pass
We finally got out of East River Valley and turned on to familiar terrain, starting a long, gradual climb to Friends Hut.  The conditions were perfect and we were getting good glide out of our skins, feeling strong and feeling fast.  But anxiety was all around because two things were coming up: a creek crossing and Death Pass.

Turns out the creek crossing was no big deal for us.  It was bottle-necked up with loads of skiers, so we had to wait our turn, but found an existing snow bridge up river a little that was still in tact, so we crossed easily.

Scary Part #2: Death Pass
We had crossed this once or twice this winter, but avalanche-prone conditions meant we didn't get to practice it very much.  It's a narrow track on a steep slope, with possible avalanche conditions overhead and then a steep slope down to a rocky creek bed below.  There wasn't really any snow left overhead, so avalanches were not a concern.  But there also wasn't much snow underneath our feet.  By the time we got there, there was quite a line of people carrying skis and walking through on their ski boots, because the trail underfoot was some snow and some mud.  We had hoped to keep our skis on, but the boot walking made it really difficult to ski as the snow was rutted out with boot prints.  Also, one part was pretty muddy.

To be honest, I wasn't particularly scared and found this spot about as scary as many of the other descends in the dark.

We still high-fived each other after passing scary part #2, and then went in search of a place to get off trail and empty our full bladders, because we had basically been in a busy line up on a narrow track with no extra room for a few hours.

Part 4: To Friends Hut
We had to be at Friends Hut, at mile 16.5, by 7:00am or we would be turned around.  We knew that we could do this with time to spare, but weren't sure how much the creek crossings and extra transitions and crowded trails would slow us down.

After we crossed Death Pass, we started a long, gradual climb that dragged on and on.  We knew the trail well, having practiced it for training this winter.  We fell several times, and were still making pretty good time.  Christie had a good fall that also took me out, which was comical.  But then I started to slow down.  I just felt like Christie was going so fast, and it was getting harder to keep up.  Nothing in my body was sore, and I was breathing pretty well, but I didn't have much energy.  I tried to eat and drink (some slush in our water but not totally frozen), but I didn't want to eat at all.

At about 4am, I felt really sleepy.  My eyes felt heavy and I started getting down in my head.  Christie towed me on the tow line, which made me keep up with her pace.  But the terrain was not easy to use a tow: there were downed trees and little dips here and there.  With about 1.5 miles left before Friends Hut, and my eyes fighting to close, I had a bad fall up a tiny bumb and smashed my face/chin into the ice.  It woke me up, but getting myself untangled from Christie's tow line and getting back up to get out of people's way was stressful and energy consuming.

We pulled over about .75 miles away from Friends Hut as my skins were starting to slip on some steeper terrain, and I was getting cold.  We decided to prepare for the upcoming bigger climb by putting on our thicker skins, puffy coats, eating a snack, and bigger gloves.  It felt like we were moving very slowly for this transition, and by the time we started skiing again, my fingers were all numb.

We made it to Friends Hut just after 6am, and were given smiles and encouragement and a cup of warm water, which was awesome.

Christie asked me if I wanted to call it a day and turn back, and I said no.  I knew I was slowing us down and that I was moving slowly.  I wondered if I was feeling the altitude.  I knew our next big climb would be slow, but I also knew we could do it, so we pushed on.

Part 5: Climb up to Star Pass
We had to get to the top of Star Pass by 8:00am, or we would be turned around.  This was the huge make-or-break thing of this course for us.  If we made it to the top of Star Pass before 8am, we could keep going forward and on to Aspen.  If not, we would turn around and head back to Crested Butte.  Our big goal was to get to Aspen, even if it took a really long time, and even if we didn't get an official finish if we were too slow.  So we really wanted to make that cut off.

Seeing the headlamps climb up the icy slope was very cool.  And even though sunrise wasn't until 7:30am, the stars started fading and sky started brightening at about 6:20am.  It was gorgeous.  Watching the sky transform from stars and crescent moon to dawn and then pink sunrise with mountains all around would have been pretty magical, had we not been suffering and stressing about the time.

I actually think we climbed quite well, and I rallied ok to climb with a descent pace.  I needed a few breathing breaks, but had a better attitude and started to wake up more.  We had to boot pack again because the skin track disappeared and turned into boot prints and went straight up at the top, so we spent some time carefully stowing our skis and started up.  It was steep, icy and still quite dark, so we wanted to make sure we didn't accidentally drop a ski and watch it slide down the edge and end our event.

At the top of the boot pack, with the steep climb over, we turned left and still had to walk along a ridge climbing more gradually for a while.  This took some more energy, even with lovely scenery, and we were still keeping an eye on the clock.

At the top, we transitioned to ski and traversed across / slightly down to the check point on the far side of Star Pass.  We high fived the course marshal, and celebrated making the checkpoint.  It wasn't even that cold or windy, compared to some years when I'm sure it's just awful.  We had done it!  We had actually made it to the top of Star Pass before the cut off and we were on our way to Aspen!

Part 6: Top of Star Pass to Gio's Bonfire
Scary Part #3 Descending from Star Pass

Thankfully, we didn't have to do scary part#3 in the dark.  We had heard the descent was icy, steep and long and there were lots of rumors about how hard this descent was or wasn't, depending on who you talked to.  The hardest part turned out to be the entrance, or 'drop in' to a traverse.  It reminded me of skiing Whale's Tale at Breckenridge resort, with a committed skin track going sideways but down, making you get some speed, while you tried not to look down and right to the drop below that you don't want to slide down.

We did fine with this and then started a fatigued descent down some powdery, some icy snow, picking our way down turn by turn.  We were cold, hungry, tired, and heavy.  We were thrilled that we had achieved our major goal: we were going to Aspen!  But also then there was this fatigue of knowing we still had 20 miles to go.

The sun was coming up and the snow and scenery around was lovely, but we were still cold.  We arrived at Gio's bonfire, where we tried to eat and warm up a bit, but decided to push on after a few minutes because we were only getting colder, not any warmer.

There was some major relief and excitement in knowing we had survived the night/dark, we had made it through all 3 scary parts of the course, and we were going to Aspen.

Part 7: Gio's Bonfire to Taylor Pass
We really didn't know much about the terrain on the second half of the course.  We had skied most parts of the first half during training, but couldn't access the second half to train on it and couldn't find out much about it except from rumor.  No elevation profile or true course map was available prior to the race.  So we put on our skinny skins (faster skins) and hoped we weren't in for a big climb.

I had assumed that, because we didn't have a lot of extra time on our first two cut offs, and because we were so tired, that we were not going to be able to make the next cutoff (at Barnard Hut), and that we wouldn't be able to get an official finish.  I wasn't too disappointed in this thought, because we still would ski to Aspen mountain, and the pressure of having to rush was over.

We started skiing up out of the valley, hoping the sun would hit us soon as we were cold.  A beautiful section with fresh untouched snow all around, remote bowls and a forested track.  We climbed gradually and passed people pulling over to shed layers.  After a little while longer, when the sun hit us, it was very powerful to feel the sun's rays and get the reassurance that being cold was over.  We shed some layers and continued the gradual climb up.

At some point I started doing the math and realized we still had about 6 hours before the Barnard Hut cutoff, and checked with Christie on the mileage.  It turns out we had plenty of time and still had a very good chance of making it to a real finish.  How exciting!

At some point another racer said he thought we were entering Taylor Basin, and we'd have 1.5 miles to go before climbing up to Taylor Pass.  But after about 0.5 miles, in an open basin area, was a check point.  The course marshals there said it was 6.5 miles to Barnard Hut, which I thought sounded amazing and reassuring.  I was surprised we were already at Taylor Pass, and going to start the Hippo Humps.  I was also curious if my GPS was failing me, because I didn't think Taylor Pass was until later in the mileage.  But I was feeling much faster and stronger than the night before, and was pretty happy with us.  Christie actually seemed more fatigued than me, which had rarely happened before!

Of course there was another real checkpoint a little later, and we had misunderstood.  1.5 miles of this basin lead to the actual Taylor Pass course marshals, who told us we had 5 more miles to get to the Barnard Hut, but also we could see the daunting steep climb up to Taylor Pass ahead.

Most people around us were very frustrated with this climb, as were we.  It was wind scoured and our skins slipped in the real skin track, so I kept leaving the track to find raw snow that held better without slipping.  It seemed to take forever, and we were sure we lost a lot of time, and I slowed way down again as we climbed up.  Again, it seemed like altitude was getting me when we went above 11,000ft or so.  But we got there, and then we got to take off our skins and ski down some really lovely powder.  My pizza wedge killed it.

Part 8: The hippo humps from Taylor to Barnard
We had heard that there were 3 humps in between Taylor and Barnard.  We knew that Barnard was less than 5 miles away, and things felt pretty good.  We had heard that the leaders would likely skate up the climbs and ski down, without any skins.  We had planned to keep skins on throughout, assuming we would skin up and then just ski slowly and cautiously down on our skins.

Turns out this was one huge hippo!

The 'bumps' would be called mountains in many other states, and I couldn't imagine skating up these climbs at all.  We had on our fat skins for the climbs, and then transitioned to ski down as the descents were real skiing.  (By that I mean I had a wicked pizza wedge because making turns was really hard on my tired legs!)

The part of the course seemed to go on forever.  I was sure now my GPS was broken because we would ski for a while, and then it would only show that I'd gained 0.3 miles.

But eventually we made it to the last hump and were told Barnard Hut was less than a mile away.  We skied down the last hump and skated into the aid station around noon, 2 hours before the cutoff!  One of Christie's very best friends was volunteering there, and we enjoyed lots of encouragement from friends.  They also had raman noodle soup and electrolyte drink, making it the only true 'aid station' on the course in my opinion.  There was a mandatory 10 min wait at this station, so we sat and drank and got re-organized.  Those noodles were awesome!

Standing up, however, brought on foot pain for me, for the first time on course.  This was somewhat of a miracle because I had battled blisters all season and thought my feet would be the hardest part of the event.  My left big toe was very sore, and I wasn't keen to weight my foot in some certain ways as I went.  But onward we went!

Part 9: Barnard to Aspen Mountain along Richmond Ridge
If you've heard people talk about this course, you've heard people complain about Richmond Ridge.  It's a slow, prolonged, painful 7.2 miles with gradual elevation gain and few views.  It's mostly on double track road that somehow just goes on and on and on.

We tried to celebrate every 0.5 miles, and we were going very, very slowly with frequent breaks.  We had until 4pm to make it to the Aspen Mountain Gondola, so we were quite confident we were going to finish the race.  But the gondola just wouldn't appear!

There were lots of other racers around: some smiling and laughing, some downright angry.  Many people seemed very exhausted and ready to be done - including us!  We were very, very tired and keen to see the end.

Eventually, after many false summits and sneaky corners, we saw a ski patrol guy on a sled who told us we could take off our skins and ski down to the gondola from a tree just in front of us.  We cheered, high-fived, and started our descent.

Part 10: Descending down Aspen Mountain to the Finish
I'm not sure how many miles it was to descend down this 3000 feet, but I'm really happy with how it went.  I thought my legs would be so trashed that I might have to bum scoot down.  Seriously, I was ready to be the lame skier who couldn't finish on my feet!  It turns out I could ski ok still, even if I stopped several times and skied quite conservatively through the mashed potato Spring conditions.  I had to stop myself from crying several times, because I was so amazed and so proud that we were actually going to finish.

I thought of Jason, lying at home with a broken leg, and I'd start crying.  I'd think of friends with cancer, family and friends we've lost to cancer, and how they inspired us to take on this challenge.  I thought of my little girls, at home, cheering me on and helping me get to the finish.

We skied down the last face together, into the finishing shoot, arms raised with pride.  Friends greeted us and I cried, and I hugged my partner and thanked her for getting me to that finish line.  We hugged Glo, with her pink wig and smiles, and we actually had finished the Grand Traverse Ski Race from Crested Butte to Aspen.

Finishing time: 15 hours, 4 minutes.

Since finishing, people have asked me if it was fun and if I'd do it again.  No and no.  It wasn't fun.  It was a challenge and I'm so, so proud of myself and of my partner for our accomplishment.  For me, the goal was to ski from CB to Aspen and that goal is complete.  I see no need to do it again and I couldn't imagine putting my family through that training again for something I don't entirely love.  I will cheer on others, or volunteer next time, but I'm done with this one.  I've got other goals to pursue next time.  But for the immediate future, I've got to get back to my family, and help my husband heal.