Navajo Mountain is remote. Runners needing assistance only had a few options to get off the trail.  Either get taken out on a mule, or a helicopter. Alternatively if they made it to Rainbow Bridge, but simply could not go on, Park Rangers could take them out on a boat on Lake Powell and back around on the roads to the High School. At the prerace meeting the afternoon prior to the race runners were supplied with GPS trackers to summon such help should it be required. We were also wowed by an appearance and extensive wide ranging talk from Olympic gold medalist Billy Mills. He is the real deal, and worth all the hype. It was an honor. The night before we all camped around the edges of the Naatsis'aan Chapter House. I've heard that it is difficult to sleep before an ultra. This would not have been true for me...except for the fact that my beloved dog would not stop barking at the coyotes or strays or her impression of their presence. 

I have changed in the three some years since i have taken the sport of distance running seriously. Three years ago I had averaged nearly 80 miles a week for 4 months in preparation for my first planned Ultra. A massive injury, Masters Degree and teaching career later, I had run only around 60 miles a week for the previous four months and had done only one Ultra specific workout. A back to back set of 20 milers Saturday afternoon and Sunday morning a month prior to the race. I wanted to continue exploring Diné Biyeah and to finally dip my toes into the outrageous world of ultra marathons. The result was a nearly perfect day. One of those days filled with numerous moments which I'll never forget.

This was a small gathering, even for sub-culture of ultras. With just shy of 30 runners, the freezing temperature and brilliant early morning sky. A prayer in Din'e Bizaad was given by an elder wrapped in many blankets. It was a unique start. Leaving Navajo Mountain High School we carefully shuffled over a cattle card in the night before really opening up our stride on the paved road. A lot of people say that they start running their first Ultra too fast. Although you might say I was guilty of that by my mile splits, I would disagree. The first five miles of the race was the only easy downhill running of the race. The first 6 minute mile was well within myself as we costed down the only paved mile of the race, headlamps bobbing along in the brisk late October morning in southeastern Utah. We quickly turned onto dirt road as dust from the white Nissan pickup lead vehicle was kicked up and I used my bandana to cover my nose and mouth. I heard the footsteps and saw the headlamps of two others guys who were running not far behind me. Epic.

We arrived at Bald canyon in the early dawn light and had the pleasure of ringing a bell in the early morning light before heading down a massive drop into the Canyon and first trail aid station. A fire was smoldering in the campsite/aid station and thanked the volunteers but did not break stride.

The trail continued  and  it was soon apparent that the landscape would not permit anyone to develop an easy rhythm. As you may be able to deduce from the pictures, this course was stunning and technical. It was not one in which you could get into a consistent rhythm. The trail and landscape required far too much attention for that.

A runner who I later learned to be Jedediah who briefly closed to within inches of me close to the turn around point both beat the volunteers to the turnaround point near Rainbow Bridge National Monument. On most of the return trip I was predominantly power hiking the significant inclines. Once returning to Bald Canyon I had a tough sunny climb up awaiting me. Getting to the top I turned and screamed into the wilderness. I would not have enough breath or energy to scream in only a few miles.  I still couldn't see my competitor and at that point I knew it was going to be my race to lose. My  father and my dog who had hiked in were there to meet me and we traded out water bottles.

The next landmark was the trailhead aid station/finish of the ten mile race. The  group of volunteers, EMS, runners and the race director's presence provided a brief surge of adrenaline only to be met by the reality of a lonely and primarily uphill return to the finish line. At this point the effort to run even a slight incline had increased so exponentially that I seriously worried that after leading the race for 37 miles I would be past in the home stretch. Nonetheless I was doing everything that I could and moving forward with walking breaks which were often longer than my running sections became my new reality. Just before returning to the pavement the RD and my father passed me in their cars and I was able to muster enough sheer will power to "run"the final mile of the race. You can see below the flexibility with which I am using the word "run".

Photos courtesy of Peter Genn & The Navajo Nation VP

I estimate that I consumed about 800 calories throughout my nearly 8 hour odyssey through a combination of liquids and Honey Stinger chews. I'd never had the chews before, so logically I used them on race day without ever trying them out in training! I also ran the race with a slow leak in my camelback blatter. My hydration and salt balance were good throughout the day. I was probably bonking to a certain extent but it was hard to tell because my legs were so incredibly heavy at that point. It would have been a challenge to take in many more calories, and I was elated to avoid  any gastrointestinal issues in my first ultra. As you can see from the above video, not exactly a fast finish, but what can you expect when the final 20 miles is uphill?

I'm not sure if I'll be back to defend my title, however I know I'll backpack that trail in order to appreciate the landscape at a more leisurely pace! It is tempting because I'm almost certain that I could improve my time with a little more specific training. I am however committed to taking one goal at a time for the moment.  

People are few and far between in The Navajo Nation and it was amazing to have friends willing to drive 3 hours to welcome me into the finish line. I'd also like to give a shout out to Honey Stinger for supporting me and these awesome races across The Navjao Nation! Although life goes on, I feel the my limitations are defined primarily by my goals. If I decide that something is important enough, it is going to happen. Like education, ultra finishes are something no one can ever take from you. Even though I really can't wrap my brain around the distance, I know I can cover the distance

My father took me on my first backpacking trip when I was 9 years old in Yosemite. We have been getting after it almost every summer since then, nearly exclusively in the Sierra Nevada. However, the most recent trip we took together was way back in 2012, making this trip perhaps more cherished.

Although we didn't plan it this way, my father and I met up in Weaverville, CA the day before Father's Day to take on the unexplored Trinity Alps Wilderness. After a mediocre lunch at what is probably Weaverville's only pizzeria, we made for the hills. We started out at Canyon Creek Trail Head late in the day, which leads you on an incredibly gentle and soft first several miles of trail. As the shadows lengthened we saw a bear on the other side of canyon creek.

A word on some fellow backpackers. Where are the wilderness ethics?!?! I know that I will never again be able to traverse the wilderness without seeing it through a Wilderness Ranger's eyes. At every campsite we saw how people either willfully ignored or unknowingly violated the basic principles of Leave No Trace, sometimes with flagrant abandon.The chief failure seemed to be camping too close to the water. I'm talking about not even being ten feet from the water, let alone one hundred feet. And while that habit may only impact the environment, other habits such as the quality of bear hangs can dramatically affect their lives by leaving them stranded without food miles from help.

The first night we camped a mile or so from the Canyon Creek Lakes on a beautiful shelf of granite with a gorgeous cascade of water below us to the west. The second night we made camp above, and just to the south of El Lake. Although we attempted to summit Sawtooth Mountain, we settled for a false summit just to the west. I believe that we most likely could have gotten to the top of the Mountain had we made an approach from the east. Nonetheless, the view of the Trinity Alps and Mt. Shasta was stunning.

The following day is when our trip began to get strenuous. It took us many, many hours of off-trial hiking to cross the ridgeline dividing the Big Bar and Weaverville Ranger Districts. We began that morning at about 9:00am, and made camp at Emerald Lake. The red route below traces our route to El Lake, and the orange route demonstrates the off-trail traverse that rejoined us with the established trail at the outlet of Sapphire Lake.

The cross-over from El Lake to Mirror Lake was some of the most technical backpacking I have ever done. There was zero margin for error as we walked along searching for a route to descend from the steep rock cliff that encompassed the majority of the granite bowl encompassing Mirror Lake. After some scouting, without our packs, I confirmed that we could connect with a rock strewn drainage which descended diagonally to the talus field below us. 

After having successfully navigated that, and a short break at Mirror Lake (which is stunning), we saw the second bear of our trip. We then followed in its footsteps around the edge of Sapphire Lake, where we were finally able to rejoin the trail after some 8 or 9 hours of off-trail scrambling.

Up to this point nothing too out of the ordinary had taken place on our trip. Indeed if not for the events of the last eight hours of that day, we may have considered it just one more carefree backpacking trip in the books. Instead it turned into something else entirely.

After having made good time on the trial, we were beginning to keep an eye out for the "unmaintained" trail  which we hoped to connect with towards Alpine Lake. This trail would connect us to Bear Creek and allow us to complete our ambitious loop of the most spectacular country that The Trinity Alps Wilderness has to offer without incident.

Instead, we went off the trail about a mile early or so, and spent the next four hours looking for the trail connector to Alpine Lake. To our credit, we did not separate or panic and we did establish our location once we had risen above the tree line. Despite all of this, the terrain was incredibly exhausting. For much of the afternoon we were fighting for every step through incredibly thick brush. At one point I was stung by a bee on the ankle, and to be honest I barely noticed. When you are in survival mode, that type of discomfort is irrelevant.

Our Wilderness Area map was not nearly detailed enough to use for off-trail orienteering, nor did we have any information as to what condition the non-maintained trail was in. After four hours of searching, and actually establishing our location, I estimated that we still had a good two hours of bush-wacking to have any hope of connecting with our trail. My father agreed to pull the plug, and to descend the drainage we were in to rejoin the main trail. At this point the sun was getting lower in the sky. I knew that I had an appointment at 8:00am the next morning, and I was beginning to get concerned that I would not be able to make it. Nature doesn't care about your survival, and it certainly doesn't care about keeping your schedule.

I can honestly not remember feeling so grateful with the universe as I did when we found the main trail again. From there we had another six miles to get out to a trail head which did not have our cars. Our adventure wasn't over yet. Once at the trail head we were both extremely tired. On our second attempt to get a car camper to drive us into town we were successful. Feet throbbing from walking in wet boots, skin stinging from surface cuts we were able to let our loved ones back at home know that we were OK. They had been fifteen minutes from calling Search and Rescue.  

We were unable to get ahold of the taxi service that night or the following morning. It turns out Weaverville's Taxi service doesn't care about your schedule either. Instead we were reunited with our vehicles by a tow truck driver.

If you go, consider stopping at The Etna Brewing Company located in Etna on Highway 3. In the age of the brew pub boom, it's refreshing to sample some quality brews from an establishment that has been around since 1872. Maybe it was that I was looking at the world through slightly fresh eyes after my recent misadventure, but I thought the beer I tasted was exceptionally good, and the Brewery in that tiny town deserved a special shout out!

The much awaited Billy Yang film from The Lake Sonoma 50. Enjoy!

Recently my stress fracture turned six months old. I have long since given up any hope of competing in some of the area's summer flagship races, and I've come to terms with missing the opportunity to see where I would stack up against the country's best in Bend's National Mountain Running Championships. I also gave up hope of competing in the Mt. Ashland Hill climb. As tempting as it may be, I know that I can't enter a race without putting the peddle to the metal in training, and before I can do that, my body has to regain my trust.

One week ago, the high school seniors I worked with throughout the year graduated from their alternative high school. Within 30 seconds of talking to a graduate's mother she was in tears. Graduations at alternative high schools are not taken for granted, and my work has been a powerful way to keep me from moping around all of 2015. Even if my own life has been on hold, I helped 81 young adults get a powerful prerequisite to start theirs.

As long as I can remember, the close of a school year has been followed with a trip into the mountains. Luckily, this year was no different. This weekend's trek into The Sky Lakes Wilderness was certainly not a strenuous backpacking trip. It was however a chance to head into the mountains, and enjoy the relative health that I am enjoying now. Friday night we camped above Cliff Lake. We might have enjoyed the Seven Lake Basin more if it weren't for the incessant and plentiful  mosquitoes who enjoyed sucking our blood whenever the opportunity presented itself, which was often. Welcome to Oregon below the tree line baby! Saturday morning we packed up camp with the ruthlessness and efficiency that a couple of Sierra vagabonds take for granted, and bombed up the ridge towards better views, scree, wildflowers and no more mosquitoes. We decided to camp just below the summit of Devil's Peak, and day hiked south along the Pacific Crest Trail for a  while.

I have been out of my walking boot since the end of March. Nonetheless I can still feel that my right leg does not have the same level of strength and stability as my left leg. I have been vigilant in cross training, including swimming, bicycling, and using the stair master. I also have been weightlifting since before I removed my boot. I feel that while my leg has progressed, this injury continues to keep me guessing as to when I can return to running and full body exercises. I can tell that I am very close to feeling healed, however I trust the sensation of my body more than anybody else in these regards. When it is time to incorporate step ups, plyometrics, back squats, dead lifts and other exercises, I will know. 

It is incredibly frustrating to be so close to the end of a long injury. You are ready to return. You know that it would only take a matter of weeks to regain the majority of fitness that you lost. Even though I don't believe it myself sometimes, the fact is that you will run again! In the mean time, you can check out the volcanoes and smell the flowers, because we all know that I won't be stopping to appreciate these in the same way when I am able to compete again.

George Vecsey does a great job of assembling an informative tour of his personal soccer journey, from bumbling high school defender to New York Times sports journalist chasing the world's biggest games and names. Although some of the names are familiar, he is able to add depth to the characters and the sport which I dedicated myself to without hesitation or reservation for 16 years. It may be a timely read, as FIFA cronies such as Sepp Blatter and Jack Warner have their early exploits highlighted. We are also reminded that FIFA was squeamish about the USA hosting the World Cup in 1994. Why? Because of the level of oversight and accountability that would be demanded by holding such an event in the US.

Forget the sports administrators though! This book reminds us of the quirks, brilliance and controversy surrounding Maradona, Baggio and Zidan. Vecsey also does a great job of tracing the public and media attention to the world's game here in the USA. It seems that I was born in the year that the USMNT (US Men's National Team) returned to the World Cup for the first time in 4 decades.

Anyways. No matter what book you bring along, you will almost certainly enjoy it if you are reading it under the same scrubby tree on Devil's Peak that I did. As the pages turned Mt. Shasta and Mt. McLaughlin maintained a commanding presence over the southern horizon.

I wasn't a fan of Billy Yang's first installment in his 15 hours series, it seemed to represent everything I dislike about the ultra runner scene. Nonetheless, the second installment in his series with Anton Krupicka was dynamite. As one of the sport's greatest, he has dealt with persistent injuries for a while and his perspective is worth your time.