Andy's Video: Late October Teton Psych

Andy made a video of our last Teton trip. It's been pretty popular at Teton Outerlocal. Here it is:

Late October Teton Psych from andy dorais on Vimeo.

Late October Teton Psych Movie!

Late October Teton Psych from andy dorais on Vimeo.


To quote Tom Evans, "Glory days!!  The best days of our lives!!"

Let it snow!

Late October Teton Psych!

Well, here goes the usual story...

I had a day off of work and was fiending for some excitement.  Luckily, I know a few other addicts who happened to be available for a rowdy ski trip into Garnet Canyon in GTNP.  I say rowdy because there really isn't a lot of snow up there, but we were going to find some skiing anyway, regardless of the conditions.

Jared and I left SLC Wed evening and made it to Jackson without getting pulled over. We tumbled into the Professor's house, where he had set up the hide-a-bed.  Jared was against sharing and inadvertent cuddling so he took the floor (this would change later).  First the Dutchman, and then the irrepressible Kim Young, showed up on Brian's door in the morning.  We were to be a crew of five searching for elusive October powder.

We started just after 8:00 down the Lupine Trail, half jogging to warm up.  In the parking lot, the temperature was in the 30s and we were all chilled, wearing our standard lycra.  An hour and a half later, we strolled through the Meadows and sat down to exchange running shoes for ski boots.  The lower angle fall light and the crisp autumn temperatures aided our gleeful mood as we sat in the snow dusted talus debating our next move.  All eyes were drawn upward by a swath of white coming out of the West Hourglass Couloir that looked skiable.    

The boys finding reasonable conditions in the West Hourglass Couloir, Nez Perce

Kim Young finding unreasonable conditions in the West Hourglass Couloir, Nez Perce

What we found was boiler plate through the lower section, which inspired us to don our crampons, then a brilliant slope of creamy powder, before the upper stretch of rock strewn, wind scoured, alpine ice/névé.  Curious, we pushed to the top since Jared and I had never been there before.  Looking over the South Fork of Garnet Canyon, the mountains felt large.

Cold

Waiting to regroup, we put on all available scraps of clothing in a futile attempt to stay warm.  With the wind chill hovering around zero, I was wearing two puffy coats over two smaller jackets.  Jared was a little worse off and now was more than willing to cuddle to stay warm.  Kim nearly threw up from the pain in her hands as she topped out the couloir.  I think Nate and Brian were unfazed as they looked at us with pity for being so weak. 

Motivated to get moving, the group down climb ensued until we were back on reasonable terrain to start skiing.

Alpine ice, dirt, rock, and a little snow kept the skis on our backs

The Professor's first turns of 2011/12

Once we finally put our skis on, we found what we were looking for...

...better than expected skiing with a bit of dry powder to sluff around.  Then we hit the lower slopes which, being less protected, were bullet. No matter.  Everyone was smiling and commenting about how enjoyable the skiing was. Carefree, and unfettered by thoughts of the world below, everyone was easy as we moved towards the Middle Teton.

The Middle Teton Glacier

Nate sneaks above the bergschrund

Jared sped away, skinning the glacier while the rest of us pursued "Teton Style", trudging upwards with skis on our backs.  It seems backcountry skiers in the Wasatch prefer to keep their skis on their feet and skin as much as possible.  I do.  Jared does.  We both feel it's more efficient and quite possibly faster.  Wasatch style or Teton style? Which do you prefer?  

Initially, we thought we might be satisfied with skiing the lower glacer, but the allure of steep powder plastered to the upper couloir proved too much.  The slope angle came in at 51 degrees, and no one could believe the mid winter conditions.  We were about to make turns in stable powder on a steep classic line in the Tetons, in October.  It was perfect.  As we topped out the couloir, we found ourselves standing at the notch between the Dike Pinnacle and the main summit of the Middle.  The air was calm and the autumnal sun was enhancing all the colors around us.  Even Jared seemed content to absorb the view as he shelved the idea of going to the summit.  

High on the Middle Teton having a perfect day

Psyched!

Kim Young hanging with the boys

The flying Dutchman

October powder?

End of the road...

Unfortunately, the facade of winter ended while still well above the Meadows as we eked out the last few meters of turns.  With the pyramidal shadows stretching past the Snake River, no one seemed bothered by the inconvenience of hiking as the mood remained elevated throughout the 4+ miles back to the trailhead.  For nearly 8000 feet of climbing, everyone looked pretty spry back at the cars. 

Back in town, we exchanged quick good byes with our Jackson buddies and  then made the well familiar drive back to SLC, only getting pulled over twice.  

When's my next day off...?

Brilliant home movie pending...

October in the Tetons: West Hourglass and Middle Teton Glacier

Late Wednesday night, Andy and I blasted up to Jackson for some skiing in the Tetons.  On Thursday we met and skied with our friends Brian Harder ("Brain"), Nate Brown ("Dutchman"), and Kim ("Crusher").  The skiing was surprisingly good.  It took some effort to get to it, but what we found made that effort worth it.We skied the West Hourglass Couloir on Nez Perce and then climbed and skied the Middle Teton Glacier.  The headwall of the glacier was the real treat.  There we found soft consolidated powder stuck to a 50 degree slope.  From the parking lot we had wondered if winter was up there.  As Nate promised, after awhile the "Winter Switch" turned on.

Quick Notes:
- It was cold.  Probably below zero cold.  To stay warm on Nez Perce, I robbed everyone of their packs, sat on one, put the others on top of me, mooched Nate's puffy, and (to no avail) tried to get people to cuddle with me.
- There were 4 Men in Tights, one Woman in Baggie pants
- Kim impressed us all by by logging the same 8k vertical we logged, but on "heavy" gear, Havocs and Divas, thus becoming "Crusher."
- Upper East Hourglass was not skiable, but the lower part definitely was.
- No. of times Andy got pulled over by the law, 2; no. of tickets, 0
- Another great day on 64 mm waisted skis.
- 8k vert, 10 hr tour.  30 hrs door-to-door (SLC to Jackson to SLC).

West Hourglass (angling upper right to lower left).  Photo taken Feb. 2011.

Middle Teton Glacier and the "Notch" (distinct "V") in top third, left edge of right third) in the background.
Photo taken Feb. 2011.

Hiking into Garnet Canyon

View of the Middle Teton and the Chouinard and Ellingwood Couloirs from Nez Perce.
The Middle Teton Glacier tops out at the top of the Ellingwood.

Andy and Nate in the cold cold shadow with El Grande and the Middle in the background. 

Middle Teton Glacier and the shrund.

Andy and Nate about to gain the "Notch."

Soft snow, steep slope, October.

Andy and Nate with the Dike Pinnacle in the background.

Nate skiing the Middle Teton Glacier.

Brain skiing the Middle Teton glacier.

Brian and Kim descending above the shrund.

10-21-2011 Rim to Rim Speed Attempt, The Grand Canyon

Exactly 18 days ago I said I would never go back to the Grand  Canyon.  If I would have stuck with it, I would have missed out on perhaps the most miserable few hours of my life.  Jared and I ran Rim to Rim to Rim on the 3rd.  I thought we did pretty well, especially making the half way point in 4:20 (9:45 total). I was content.  A few days later Andy went down after working all night and went 3:43 Rim to Rim and finished in 9:12.  He said his 3:43 was pretty casual.  This made me reconsider.

The Rim to Rim fastest known time is 3:06.10 by Jared Scott.  That seemed fast but within reason.  For the last 10 days or so I couldn't get that time out of my head.  I constantly thought of splits and how to make 3:06 happen.  The plan was to run hard through Phantom Ranch and then use poles and try to finish at about the same speed we did on the 3rd.  This what followed:

Splits
Cottonwood Campground 45 mins (6.8 miles)
Phantom Ranch 1:31 (13.7 miles)
3.5 Miles to go sign 2:20 (17.4 miles)
South Rim 3:19

North Kaibab as my sun disappeared

The first 15-16 miles were on pace, maybe a bit ahead.  I ran out of drink and felt the first tired twinges about 2 hours in and from there slowly fell off pace.  There's a fair amount of flat runnable trail up the South Kaibab.  Each time there was flat trail I would run but a few steps later would start cramping, not good.  I was stuck moving slow as the watch kept ticking. I repeatedly tried to speed up but the cramps in my legs just wouldn't let it happen.  3:19, not even close.

Thoughts
1.  In retrospect I went out too hard.  That was the plan though.  I figured it was better to set myself up to run fast with the risk of dying then play it conservative and never be close. I died.  A little pace specific training would have gone a long way.
2.  Walking behind a donkey train for 8 mins didn't help.  This probably only cost me 4 mins since I was walking the whole time but it's still a little annoying walking through fresh logs and puddles.
3.  1.5 liters of water just isn't enough in the desert when the high's 85.  I had electrolyte tabs and gu to spare but with no water they did me no good. I guess there's always next time...

Blisters?

After topping on the South Rim I realized I could barely walk.  I had some gnarly blisters on my feet, no food, no headlamp, no jacket, had to work the next day,  and for some reason had no ride back to the North Rim.  That left me with 21 miles back to my car.  Since I was cramping while sitting, I wasn't sure how the rest of the day would go.  Thinking I might end up spending most of the night out suffering while trying to get back, I took the shuttle to the Village to "prepare."  I ate, bought a jacket, and got excited.  As expected, it was horrible.  85 degree temps were nauseating, the sun gave me a headache, trying to run induced cramps, my blisters ached.  Knowing that if I couldn't run the misery would last a very long time was the  worst part. All I could do was laugh, walk, and enjoy the discomfort.  Mind numbing.  I had a phone with music but I kept it off, I figured I would need the battery life since it was my only light source.  I did. Too bad the cop who pulled me over didn't see me shuffling up the North Rim 45 minutes earlier, in the dark, with my phone light guding the way.  If he had, maybe he wouldn't have given me a ticket.

Mid October Psych

Over the weekend, four of us eschewed the perfect climbing and mountain biking and made an ill advised trip up Baldy for another look at the main chute.  The weather was warm and the snow line was hundreds of feet higher than just the day prior.  

No matter.  The leaves are turning and it was one of those Autumn days that make me never want to return to work again.  

The pics (all by JD):

Autumn from high in Little Cottonwood Canyon

Rock skinning

Psyched for some more October skiing!

Tanner picking his way through last year's ice... Never said it was good skiing.

And just for the fun of it, we made a video of the day filled with horrific skinning and skiing.  The music is by Cedar Wright and fits the carefree mood of the day.  

Although always worth it, I don't think I'll ski again until we get some more snow.  And unfortunately, the forecast is grim...sunny and 60 all week.  

Movie Madness: The Grand Canyon and Mountain B Sides

I have no future in cinematography.  But, making movies is fun and here are my two latest efforts.  The first is a nauseating 5 minute ensemble from my recent R2R2R run in the Grand Canyon and the second is a collection of "B sides" from my video library.  Most of the clips from the B Sides movie are from last winter but a couple are from this summer and our attempt at the WURL.  I also snuck in a few recycled favorites from prior posts.

Running the Grand Canyon:


Mountain B Sides:

Mountain B Sides from andy dorais on Vimeo.


Continuing the theme, it really has all started again with today being our third on skis.  The loose powder has settled nicely and what you see is what you get...  I still manage to hit plenty of rocks though.

Running the Grand Canyon: Rim to Rim to Rim

Cold morning view from the Kaibab Lodge

I'm not sure when I first heard about the idea of the rim to rim to rim.  It might have been from Adam or Jared a couple years ago.  Regardless, I have been planning on doing it this fall and was rather disappointed when a work shuffle left me without apparent time to join Jared and Jason last week.  

After skiing Friday, I convinced first myself and then my wife to make a one day trip to the Grand Canyon on my day off, so I could attempt the fabled Rim to Rim to Rim run.  She is 31 weeks pregnant and the standard accommodations in the back of the Subaru just weren't going to do.  The GC Lodge had no vacancy and the Kaibab Lodge had a single room with a double bed.  We took it.  I arranged a shuttle for 6:45 in the morning and then we were off driving into the night.  Arriving at one AM, we set the alarm for "early" and went to bed.   

Since Jessie couldn't run with me and no other partners materialized, I went and found the shuttle driver alone.  Seeing my breath and the snow on the ground felt like a good omen.  I do better in the cold and I was hoping the temps would be mild throughout the two impending canyon crossings.  

The secret is in the white powder.

However, it wasn't without some trepidation that I started running down the choppy trail at 7:15 that morning.  Unsure as to why, I haven't had a "good" run in weeks.  But, throwing caution to the wind, I decided to roll the first five downhill miles.  The air were cool but I shed my jacket 5 minutes into the run as the sun was strong.  Arriving at the first watering hole, I took a look at the crowds and kept moving.  From there, 8-9 miles of mostly gentle downhill follow a side canyon to the Colorado River.  

The canyon was beautiful with the early morning light playing off the walls and the sounds of the creek providing a musical accompaniment to the Fanfarlo I was playing on my ipod.  I took a pull off my gel flask around an hour in and had to keep reminding myself to drink.  The running was easy and relaxing and I was enjoying the moment.  

Descending from the North Rim

Following North Kaibab Trail endlessly downward

I trotted into Phantom Ranch around 1:45, looking to refill my water for the climb up to the South Rim but found a hoard of people lined up at the spigot.  Eager not to waste time, I kept going and found another just before the river crossing.  Crossing the bridge as the watch ticked over to 2 hours, I felt strong.  Jason and Jared had given splits to the South Rim, 50K, and the finish and I thought I was ahead of their pace, which provided ample motivation.  Once across the river, out came the poles and away went the camera.  I was able to run/shuffle much of the 4800 ft climb to the South Rim but never pushed.  Walking when prudent or when held up by mules, I started to see more and more people without packs.  Then the final switchbacks.  Then the South Rim.  3:43:30 into the day.  

Striding quickly to the fountains, I must have appeared frantic to the tourists posing for pictures and eating their lunches.  I fumbled with my pack (Jason's, which I used for the ability to carry poles), mixed more EFS drink, spilled half on my shoes, choked down a gel flask, wet my head, played tourist for 1 min taking pictures, and then I was off 10 minutes later.  Looking across the expanse to the North Rim was intimidating and my legs were giving the first inklings of bad times ahead.                   

The long descent back to the river doesn't lend itself to smooth running as it resembles a broken staircase littered with equestrian droppings.  Losing elevation led to hurting legs and a more tempered pace.   At this point I began to question my nutrition strategy, which was to drink my calories.  With water available every 5ish miles, I had planned on mixing EFS, Hammer, and Cytomax products for an energy source supplemented by gels.  Lately, I haven't been able to stomach food on long efforts and this day was no different.                                                                                                                                                                                  

Ooh Aah, just below the South Rim

Dropping back to the River, the bottom of the canyon is the narrow gash in the center of the picture.  North Rim is visible in the distance. 

I crossed the Colorado River for the second time right as the watch read 5:00.  After quickly refilling my water for the third time, I set off at what I felt to be a sustainable pace for the remainder of the run.  Figuring I had 8 miles of gentle up hill before hitting the main climb back to the North Rim, I thought I could count on 9-12 min miles, after which, fast hiking and jogging the lower grades would take me home.  Mental calculations had me hoping for a total time of just over 8 hours (really slow compared to the record but relatively fast).  My pride began to swell and my taunts to friends were already forming in my mind.  

Then reality.

The temperature was too warm. I had started too fast.  My nutrition was abysmal.  I forgot electrolyte tabs.  I was experiencing whole body cramps.  Damn. 

I sat down at mile 34 (of 42) and tried to stretch.  That just led to cramps in the antagonistic muscle groups.  Salvation came in the form of other runners attempting the R2R2R, when they gave me a handful of salt tabs.  I took a few and kept walking.  Afraid to run, the strategy shifted from moving fast to finishing.  Every time I tried to even walk at a more upbeat tempo, my quads would threaten utter rebellion.  

The mental calculations commenced again.  This time to evaluate the damage.  15-25 minute miles for 8 miles?  Huh? 

The bridge over the River Colorado 

Done!

I didn't run another step over those 8 miles.  And, in spite of not being able to run, I was happy.  I almost pulled off a great run and was going to finish (which I had questioned on the drive down).  The scenery was still spectacular but leaning on my poles didn't allow me to carry my camera and I was too lazy to get it out of the pack.  When the canyon walls closed down, my watch would temporarily get confused with the intermittent satellite signal so I couldn't trust it not to lie to me.   As I approached the top I started asking the hikers how far was left.  Some guy said 3 miles.  Another lady said 2 miles from the tunnel.  The tunnel came and went.  A father and young boy thought a mile and a half.  The views dissipated as I marched into the forest.  Then I could hear cheering above.  Rounding a bend an animated gentleman said 200 meters and pointed onward.  Feeling relief, I stumbled out to the trailhead 9 hours and 12 minutes after starting and walked past a hoard of people who had just finished their own adventures.  

Then, as tends to be the case, the second part of this endurance endeavor was a long drive home, since I had to be at work early the next morning.  Luckily, Jessie provided lovely conversation for the majority of the ride home...except when she fell asleep.  Just outside the park, we drove through an old burn and passed through what may have been the most picturesque vistas of the whole trip.

Old burn on fire again

Golden hour

Stats:

Total Time 9:12:38

42+ miles

10-11,000 vertical gained

10 gels 

4 water stops

uncountable muscle cramps

13 hours driving

5 hours sleeping

Here's the data from my sketchy watch.  There vertical is oddly doubled but the map should be accurate. 

And so it begins...

I was at work this morning when I received a picture text of alpenglow on a snowy Mount Superior.  Jason and Jared were trying to push my buttons.  Off around ten, I rallied out of work and convinced JD to head back up for more "first turns" of the season.  He protested that the skiing really wasn't worth it.  Isn't it always worth it?  

Summer flowers hanging on.

JD being reckless with abundant lurking sharks.

Getting my first turns of this season.  Photo taken without permission from jasondorais.blogspot.com.

Photo taken without permission from jasondorais.blogspot.com.

I think fall will return before winter finally sets in. 

Grand Canyon R2R2R

Sometimes, I go out and have a nearly perfect day.  The weather is good, the body is good, and the head is good.  Nature seems to be good to me.  Things click.  And when I return, I want more.  I want to go replicate it, again.   But sometimes, I go out and have a really crappy day.  I find misery.  I hate that I am in nature.  And I want nothing more than to never go out again.  And when I return, a cloud hangs over me, and I want another chance.  I want to be better.  It's a vicious cycle.

October 3, 2011, 7:04 a.m.


My sleeping bag is crumpled up in the back of my Subaru.  I crawled out of it a few minutes ago.  I'm nibbling on a leftover Subway sandwich from last night.  Jason is soaking a ProBar in peanut butter.  We intended to have bagels, but we don't.  It's 38 degrees.  We strip off our jackets, slam the Subaru's doors closed, and start running off the North Rim of the Grand Canyon.

Jason Dorais descending off the North Rim.

Me off the North Rim.  Photo by J. Dorais

October 3, 2011, 9:35 a.m.


We've covered 13.7 miles and descended over 5,500 feet in about 2.5 hours.  Except for two rolled ankles--one mine and the other Jason's--we're feeling relatively good, not as fresh as we'd hoped, but good.  We're more or less on pace.  We want to run Rim to Rim to Rim, 42ish miles, and 10,800 vertical in under 10 hours.  We're at Phantom Ranch, less than a mile from the Colorado River, and will be heading up the South Kaibab Trail to the South Rim, ascending 5,300 vertical feet 7.2 miles.  If we want to stay on pace, we'll need to be at the top of the South Rim in 1 hr and 50 minutes.

Jason ascending the South Kaibab Trail

Me ascending South Kaibab.  Photo by J. Dorais.

October 3, 2011, 11:25 a.m.


It took us 1 hr and 51 minutes to ascend the South Kaibab trail from Phantom Ranch.  And it wasn't easy.  Perhaps we were driven too much by theory and not reality.  I felt a surge of adrenalin in the last 1/2 mile or so and we ran hard to the top, arriving breathless.  Although water was available at the South Rim, I only splashed it on my head, and didn't put any into my hydration pack.  I thought I had enough to get me to Phantom Ranch.  I didn't want to carry extra weight.  I was mistaken.

Me walking behind the behinds of a mule train.  "Please don't kick me."  Photo by J. Dorais.

October 3, 2011, 12:23 p.m.

We just ran the 27th mile in 9 minutes 30 seconds.  The Colorado River is below us and we'll be crossing it soon.  It's hot.  I'm hot.  I'm out of water.  I haven't eaten much of anything for an hour.  I notice that I have goosebumps.  I'm hot, but I'm chilled.  I'm nauseous and I can't eat.  Uh oh.  Not to worry though, we'll be to Phantom Ranch soon.

October 3, 2011, 12:45 p.m.

I'm lying face first in a tributary of the Colorado River.  My feet are propped up on a flat rock, but everything from my ankles up, head included, is under water.  Water trickles into my ear, but I don't want to lift my head out of the cool water.  I

October 3, 2011, 1:00 p.m.

We're satisfied that we clicked off 29ish miles in under 6 hours.  We've got 13 more to go, mostly uphill.  Phantom Ranch lemonade tastes good.  My goosebumps are gone and I'm not as nauseous, but I feel like, well, I just ran 29 hard miles.  I firmly believe that my condition will turn around from here out.  It's not unlike anything I've experienced before.  I'll pull out of it.  Just need to get on top of my eating and drinking.  My legs will come around.

October 3, 2011, 2:00 p.m.

Self assessment: no power in legs and nauseous.  I need to eat to have power.  But eating makes me want to throw up.  I've tried several times, heaving without much success.  A little bit, but not much. I run a few steps, and then am relegated to walking.  I really ought to eat.  But I can't.  It's as if there is an impermeable barrier between my stomach and my legs.  They aren't working together.  So I settle with walking.  I don't like going this slow.  I look at my watch.  I'm doing a 16 minute pace when I ought to be doing a 11 minute pace.  Jason is probably bored.  We're not going to make our goals, and it will be my fault.  He tries to feed me a gel, but I reject it.  I need to speed up.  But I can't, because I have no power.  Because I can't eat.  Faster.  Eat.  Heave.  I am miserable, trapped in an odd paradox.  This sucks.  I encourage Jason to go on without me.

October 3, 2011, 2:30 p.m.

Jason is running away from me now.  I hope he goes under 10 hrs.  He's looking good.  He will.

October 3, 2011, 3:30 p.m.

There is one hope.  I have a secret weapon: Coca Cola.  I stashed a 20 oz bottle six miles off the North Rim. This should turn my legs around.  Carbonation, sugar, caffeine.  Eagerly, I un-stash my stash, open it, and drink.  Immediately I feel better.  I up the pace.  A few minutes later, I am successful where I have failed so many times on this adventure:  I bend over and vomit.  The color of the spew is alarming.  It's blackish.  But then I let myself taste it a little bit.  And it tastes like Coke.  I'm back to my painfully frustrating and slow 25 minute pace.  My secret weapon failed.  I've got nothing.

October 3, 2011, 4:45 p.m.


I'm resigned now.  That internal fire, the incessant motivation to go fast and conquer, is gone.  I just want to get back to the car and be done.  And I want to throw up.  I look around and am stunned by the view.  There is a mist above the rim; water trickles off the walls above me; thunderheads move with curious speed across the canyon.  I start reciting ancient time periods I learned in 7th grade: precambrian, paleozoic, cenozoic, cambrian, ordovician, silurian, devonian. . . .




October 3, 2011, 5:15 p.m.


As I begin to see where I am, I forget where I want to be.  I start to eat almonds, slowly, one at a time.

October 3, 2011, 5:45 p.m.

My body seems to have accepted the almonds.  Jason, who finished an hour ago, has walked down to join me.  I look at my watch and 10 hrs and 50 minutes have elapsed.  I'm not going to take more than 11 hrs.  The fire is back.  It's late, way too late actually, but it's back.  I start running.  I run into the North Rim parking lot and stop my watch: 10:57:22.

October 3, 2011, 7:00 p.m.


I just threw up a bit, but I'm holding it in my mouth.  I roll down the car window, spit, and it spatters on the car, inside and out.

October 4, 2011, 12:00 a.m.

Me:  I don't feel a need to go back there.  Do you?

Jason:  No.  I'm not going back.

Me:  Me neither.

October 4, 2011, 6:00 p.m.


Me:  I want a rematch.

Jason:  With me?  Or the Grand Canyon?

Me: The Grand Canyon.

It's a vicious cycle.