I was on Lone Peak last week and saw a few parties on Center Thumb, since then I've been thinking about getting back. Jared had most of the day free and was psyched on doing a little climbing so after the saturday morning soccer games we were off. Our 11:15 start had us looking at nothing but clouds. When we finally got a view of the cirque we saw snow! Although the first snow of the season is exciting, snowy ledges/wet rock don't help climbing. To make matters worse clouds started to build and snow started falling the second we entered the cirque. We sat, shivered, and ate while trying to decide what to do. It came down to the good ole, "We might as well take a look."
Scattered damp holds and full on wet cracks made the first few pitches a bit more insecure than I would have liked. Luckily the sun came out and things seemed to dry out by the time we made it higher on the thumb. Turned out to be almost perfect climbing weather.
September snow clouds?
"My feet hurt." No, this face was not posed. Notice the snow.
Jared cruising the crux pitch
The late start had us summiting right when Jared had to be home. We skipped any further climbing plans for the day and had a quick jog out, GC training. Golden hour wasn't too shabby.
Last Saturday was the Midmountain Marathon in Park City. With all the real heavy hitters running the Wasatch 100 the day before or the Bear 100 later in the month, the MMM was still surprisingly well attended. Multiple friends and work colleagues participated and gave the start and finish areas a festive atmosphere. Everything in between was rubbish.
The race starts at Deer Valley and follows the MM trail to the Canyons, gaining 2500 vertical en route and losing a cumulative of 3700 feet. The trail is mostly beautifully runnable, albeit tortuous with switchbacks in places, but with very few rocky or steep sections.
The start was chill but I soon let a group of 5 or 6 gain a small advantage as my stomach was revolting for unknown reasons. As I watched them ascend, one switchback ahead, brother JD suddenly decided to quit toying with the field and made his move. One mile into the race, it was over. The next 25, he chased away boredom and cramps and won easily in 3 hours flat.
Newcomer and buddy, MS, ran a very respectable race and finished well in the top ten. After a pit stop in the bushes, I tried to get back in the race but never managed to reel anyone back in, finishing 10th. The pace was comfortable but the legs were heavy and still achy from other recent efforts. I think both rest and speedwork are underrated and would have done me a lot of good over the last few weeks. But, it's just too fun to find that freedom that the hills provide during all day creative efforts.
Congrats to JD for the MMM win and to all the W100 finishers. And, good luck to those about to do the Bear 100... Maybe one day. For now though, some rest is on the agenda. Starting to think about snow...
I'm fortunate enough to work with a few guys who like an adventure every now and again. In the past, we've done bike rides, marathons, Rim to Rim. Last week, our group set out to hike Mt. Whitney. Whitney is the tallest peak in the lower 48, and because of its popularity, to be in its vicinity requires winning a lottery and securing a backcountry permit. So, in the span of 56 hours, we flew to Vegas, drove to Lone Pine, CA, climbed Whitney, and then reversed the same.
Round 1: The Mountaineer's Route
My work group wanted a challenge beyond the more conventional Whitney Portal Trail, so we chose the Mountaineer's route, a route that ascends about 6,000 vertical in 6.5 miles. Much of the route is a Class 2 and 3 scramble. To those who are somewhat close to me, you should know that I was appointed the mountain guide for the day. That is because I am a mountain guide, just one that gets lost every now and again and lacks the certain inconsequential paper credentials. I committed that I would get the group to the top; after that, I had a plan of my own.
En route, we had a few odd diversions. While crossing over a ledge section in the early morning light, Barry broke into song:
The shenanigans diminished as we climbed higher and as the scenery became more serious. And soon, we were on the Mountaineer's Route. Most of the guys in the group didn't have a whole lot of climbing experience, but they persisted and at around 1 pm (and about 6.5 hrs of hiking), we stood on the top of Mt. Whitney.
The Mountaineer's Route goes up the saddle, and then to the top of the peak in the shadowed area. The lake (Icerberg Lake) was frozen on the top!
Josh, Barry, Jeremy, Nate, Sam and Joe (Barry's two sons) on the saddle, about to go up this:
Ice!
Round 2: The Whitney Portal Trail
At the top of Mt. Whitney the first time, I parted ways with my group and went back down the Mountaineer's Route. The rest of my group descended the 11 mile Whitney Portal Trail. Running down the steep Mountaineer's Route was a bit tedious and somewhat strenuous. I was back at the car about 1:45 after I left the top of Whitney.
At the car, I reloaded my pack with food, drink, and a headlamp. I left behind all the extra stuff, like my camera and jacket, which I later regretted. And then I headed back up the Whitney Portal Trail. It was 4:00 pm in the afternoon. At 8000 feet, it wasn't too hot, but slightly uncomfortable. I had been on my feet for almost 9 hours, and they had traveled 13 miles and 6000+ vertical over some pretty rugged terrain. I had a solid 22 miles and 6000+ vertical ahead of me. And Whitney looked like it was really really far away. And I almost became discouraged. I kind of wanted to just call it a day.
But then I took a sip of the warm Coke that I was holding. And I reasoned to myself that flying and driving 100s of miles and getting a permit to do 13 miles simply didn't make sense. And so I started jogging. I stopped thinking of where I wanted to go, and just focused on where I happened to be. Then I turned on my Ipod and was greeted by none other than Jon Bon Jovi. And from "Bad Medicine" on, everything made sense. All sense of tiredness, discouragement, and the cold I'd been nursing seemed to rest. And I ran.
As I ran, I watched my Garmin report a set of 15 minute miles, then a set of 20 minute miles, and then as I climbed above 12k, I had to walk, especially up the 99 or so switchbacks (that's not an exaggeration). At the top of the switchbacks, where the High Sierra and the John Muir Trails become one, a sign informed me that I had just entered Sequoia National Park. I wondered what it would be like to run or ski all or part of either of these trails, and was stopped short in my tracks as the Sierras -- all the way to Yosemite -- came into view. But, alas, no camera.
At this point, the euphoria of Coke, Bon Jovi, and Zen thinking began to wear off. It nearly completely dissipated as the summit of Whitney appeared waay waaay out there. Luckily, the 14k 2+ mile traverse to the summit is probably one of the most scenic in the US, and so it went relatively quickly.
About 3.5 hrs after I began Round 2, I stood on top of Mt. Whitney for the second time of the day. I hung out for a few minutes, talking with some French climbers who were spending the night at the summit. They had done a bit of rando racing in Europe and told me about some of their trail races. Of course, they mentioned the UTMB, something they obviously took pride in.
The 14k traverse was better in reverse. It was downhill and very runnable. And I happened to be running it just as the sun was setting, in the alpenglow. On the right, several thousand feet below me was a valley dotted with high alpine lakes, and beyond that was Sequoia and Yosemite. To left was a very steep granite face, huge spires and an occasional steep couloir; at the bottom was a glacial lake, and the lights of several backpackers.
Concerned that the temperature was dropping and that I wasn't carrying a jacket, I stopped to pick up someone's dropped glove. With a bit of trepidation, I sniffed it to make sure that was just a dropped glove, and hadn't been used for some other purpose. It didn't have that smell, but it smelled heavily of some deodorizer or fabric softener, which reminded me of the deodorizer used in Honey Buckets, and which, in turn, caused me to quickly drop it and risk 2 cold hands on the descent instead of just 1.
As I descended the 99 switchbacks, it got darker and darker, and then black. By then, my Ipod was pushing out some mellow baroque chorale pieces, but I shut it off and turned my head torch on so that I wouldn't run off a cliff. The darkness was a hindrance in descending, and I found that my downhill mile splits were about the same as my uphill mile splits. But other than that, I was in a good place mentally and physically. I was pleasantly surprised that it was about 10:00 p.m., I had been going all day, and that I was still running in the mountains with relative ease.
It was about that time that I encountered a backpacker, carrying a big backpack and an ice axe. When I approached he said,
"Man, am I glad to see you! I was seriously worried about you when I saw you coming up the switchbacks so late in the day. I had flashes in my mind about seeing a newspaper article about a dead Japanese tourist on Whitney, wearing just a t-shirt."
I laughed and apologized for causing him to worry.
"How far did you get?" he asked.
"Oh, I went to the top."
"I'm astounded. Really, I am."
And I suppose I should have let our conversation end there. But I didn't. The braggadocio in me spilled over, and I said, "And that was my second time."
"In your life, he asked?"
"Nope, today." He was very complimentary, and that felt good. We went on to talk about his trip and where he was from. And then I continued on.
The last 3 miles of the Whitney Portal Trail are pretty cruiser, even in the dark. After a small detour where I ran to Lone Pine lake and stumbled into some sleeping backpackers who pointed me in the right direction, I was able to open it up. My Garmin showed a 13 minute mile, then a 12 minute mile, then a 10 minute mile. And then, after 35 miles, nearly 13k vertical, and 16 hours on my feet, I was back at the Whitney Portal Trailhead.
Went out for a little WURL recon. Up White Pine to the Pfeiff, out the ridge to S. Thunder, Big Horn, Lone Peak, down to the "notch" and then out Bells.
A dry NW couloir of the Pfeifferhorn
Getting to South Thunder took a bit longer than expected. It was a little over an hour from the top of the Pfeiff. From there it's relatively easy to get up Bighorn. Finding the way off Bighorn and onto Lone was a bit of a search. There are two carains marking a gully that heads SW off the summit ridge of Bighorn. I heard that was the easiest way off the peak, definitely isn't. After a bit of down climbing I felt it was a little above my on-sight, down-climb solo comfort level. I turned around at a sand covered slab right above a pretty good drop off. I'm guessing it could be down climbed but it looked less than ideal. After that detour, I headed back to the ridge with hopes of following it out towards Lone. That's the way to do it. All you have to do is bounce back and forth from the south side of the ridge to the north side following the path of least resistance, backtracking when needed. No moves were harder than 4th or very easy 5th class.
A few moves before I aborted the gully
Once onto the shoulder of Lone it's not hard to find the way up. The summit ridge that leads down to the "notch" was easier than expected as was entering the notch. The gully down into Bells was loose but easy with a fair amount of hard snow in it. The Bells exit was overgrown, not too bad though. 6:56 total time was a steady pace but not fast. The WURL is BIG.
The Wasatch Ultimate Ridge Linkup (WURL) is an extremely aesthetic traverse that links the Cottonwood and Alpine ridge lines with the lower peaks at the head of Little Cottonwood Canyon. It has been dreamt of by many, but first accomplished in August of 2007 by the prolific Jared Campbell, in 21.5 hours nonetheless. Since then it has seen one known completion by Nik Berry in an astounding 17:48. The traverse has gotten a lot of interest, including by us in the winter when we attempted it on skis. The vast majority of people that try it in a day fail.
Why?
Take a look at the numbers alone and it's easy to see that most people just don't have the preparation. At over 30 miles long with approximately 21,000 vertical gain it may sound feasible. But, what people don't realize is that a HUGE portion of the traverse is class 3 boulder hopping with short portions of 4th and 5th class climbing. Other than the approach and descent to Wasatch Drive, the whole thing is between 10,000 and 11,000+ feet, making altitude a factor. Another of the many contributing factors to the high attrition rate is the necessity to cross over Hidden Peak which offers the easiest option to bail imaginable... a free tram ride.
The Line (divided into thirds):
For some reason, the "first ascentionist" started in Ferguson Canyon and ended out Bell's Canyon. I understand the perverse beauty of starting and ending just off Wasatch Drive, but other options seem more aesthetic. But, from Ferguson, the ridge above Stairs Gulch is obtained and followed to the Broad Fork Twins. Then every peak is passed to Mount Superior, including Sunrise, Dromedary, and Monte Cristo.
From Superior, Cardiff Peak, Toledo Peak, Flagstaff, Davenport, The Honeycombs, Patsy Marley, Wolverine, Tuscarora, Point Supreme, Devil's Castle, Sugarloaf, and Baldly are summited before one lands on Hidden Peak.
Then, one ascends AF Twins, Red Stack, Red Baldy, White Baldy, the Pfeifferhorn, South Thunder, Upper Bell's Peak (Bighorn), and Lone Peak before exiting out Bell's Canyon and finding oneself on Wasatch Drive.
Our Goal:
Naturally, it was to set the record on the damn thing. Or at least go as fast as possible, have fun, and finish. We sort of managed 2/3.
Records and Rules:
When playing this contrived game of fastest known times, one has to compare apples to apples. That's not always possible given weather/snow conditions, but the route should be the same. Jared did it first and says he stayed, "very true to the ridge line" between BF Twins and Lone Peak. I don't doubt him, but what does that mean? There is a section before Devil's Castle that looks horrendous to traverse (we didn't), and I wonder if he traversed every last bit of it. Nik did the WURL without knowing of Jared blog and may or may not have stuck to the entire original route above Alta (he was blazing fast regardless).
Our Attempt:
Summit of BF Twins, Photo by BH
Brian Harder had some time off that coincided with the latter part of my vacation so we went looking for something "big". The WURL fit the bill and we decided to do it two days before game time. That left me scrambling to recon the approach up Ferguson and to stash water and food on Toledo Peak and Hidden Peak. That done, BH rolled into town on Wednesday evening and we enjoyed a deluxe pre event meal prepared by my cute pregnant wife.
The alarm sounded at 2:00a. After a quick breakfast and drive, we were on the trail at 2:50a. Hiking up Ferguson Canyon in moonless night, I was glad I had hiked up the day before to get us on the right track. Once the overgrown trail faded into a maze of game trails, we were "onsighting". Luckily, we connected a few meadows with some old growth pines along an indistinct ridge that took us to a small cliff band. There, we traversed right and eventually found ourselves looking into Deaf Smith Canyon. Having nailed the upper Ferguson approach, we followed the ridge over Stair's Gulch and up to the BF Twins just as the eastern horizon was becoming visible.
Brian on another summit with the majority of the Cottonwood Ridge in front of him
We snapped a few pics and then quickly dropped off to the east. I was suddenly chilled by a strong and ever present wind and was grateful to have listened to little brother, who suggested I bring a jacket. Then the peaks started rolling under our feet as we boulder hopped the angular talus. We were moving fast and efficiently, but it was tedious work. The rock along the Cottonwood Ridge is loose and the exposure is at places, quite high. The consequences of a misplaced step range from a sprained ankle to a gnarly laceration to much worse.
Down from O'Sullivan and looking toward the end goal...
Majority of Cottonwood Ridge behind us. Photo by BH
We paused on Monte Cristo to call JD, who said he wanted to come up and support us with food and drink and run part of the ridge. Over Superior in 6:21, I thought we were moving well. Nik had given splits at the Pfeiff and on Lone in his report and 13.5 to the Pfeiff seemed completely doable. We paused just before Toledo Peak at our first water cache and then moved on to meet Jason on Flagstaff. He had seen us on the ridge and TT'd his way up, through the brush, so as to not delay us. This, on the heels of a FKT on the Pfeiff the day before.
To my delight, JD had brought a McSkillet burrito for me and an Egg McMuffin for Brian. We laughed at our absurdity as we ran on the easier terrain, eating McDonald's. Below the Honeycombs, we parted ways and Brian and I were left to find a trail. We ran north and then contoured back along the ridge to the first summit, then the second, then down to Twin Lakes Pass. From there, the monotony continued as the summits of Patsy Marley, Wolverine, and Tuscarora passed under our feet. 8:54 to Tuscarora. That was half of Nik's total time. Halfway?
Devil's Castle looming ahead
Then we descended into Catherine's Area, accidentally missed Point Supreme while entranced by a section of runnable trail, and then once again hit the ridge. We cruised for a while and then were completely halted by a very rugged and bushy section heading up to the subpeaks before Devil's Castle. This forced us off the ridge and onto an unpleasant side hill traverse before we decided to cut the drainage and head up for a notch high on the ridge, just before the Castle. This decision took a while to make and I felt all our momentum dissipate at once. My psych plummeted and I felt a record to be out of reach.
BH getting chossy
The rather fun scrambling over Devil's Castle restored my mood, but the urgency was gone. I got a text from buddy CC who said he could see us on Sugarloaf. I replied we were blown and questioning. He advised that we take it easy for a while and just press on. Baldy was boring and the uphill was becoming a chore. I still felt great on the flats and running down but Brian's knees were starting to bother him, which resulted in slower down hills.
Exposed moves high on the Castle
Same section from opposite side. Photo by BH
Disgusting cold Ramen. Photo by BH
On Hidden Peak in 11:20, I was amazed it took 5 hours from Superior. I pulled out my food cache and was displeased with my hasty selection. I ate peaches, cookies, cold ramen, drank cold beef stock (really disgusting), and refilled my bladder/bottles. Brian, repulsed, ate some peaches and jerky and left the rest. Then we had a discussion about the marginal benefit of continuing versus the instant gratification of taking the Tram down. In the end, my stubbornness won out and Brian continued out of sense of duty to partnership even though it was clear that he was no longer enjoying our walk.
Long way left...
White Baldy summit ridge. Photo by BH
We trudged up the Twins and traversed to Red Stack, no longer running anything. The ascent of Red Baldy was mildly entertaining as the crappy rock kept us engaged as we tried not to trundle blocks of death on each other. White Baldy was a welcome change as the rock type switched to granite. That is until the summit ridge where the large blocks proved more difficult to negotiate quickly than the smaller quartzite. A long, tedious descent towards the Pfeiff found us above Red Pine Lake, again contemplating our future.
We were 23.5 miles into the traverse with over 16,000 vertical gained thus far. 15 hours had elapsed and Brian was done. He said he had "cracked", but I think it was more a case of having accomplished enough to be pleased with the day and not feeling the need to prove anything further. What is the WURL to him? The guy has climbed high end stuff all over the world and doesn't need to stumble around Bell's Canyon in the dark to be happy. Maybe I'm more insecure or still in need of finding my limits. I wanted to go on even if it meant watching the sunrise a second time (sounds pretty stupid now as I type). But this time, I felt the same sense of partnership Brian had felt at Hidden Peak.
The tough decision to bail was made and I chalked the day up as some great reconnaissance. Sitting in the warm afternoon sun it suddenly felt peaceful and we relaxed for 20 minutes before beginning the descent out the standard Pfeifferhorn trail.
I learned some valuable lessons about the physical nature of this traverse as well as about partnerships and success. The traverse will happen. I'll try again and again until I do it in the style I want. Those miles and miles of ridge line will continue eroding, but will always be there. Good partners however, are hard to come by. At times they will hinder ones goals as I have done to Brian on a few occasions in the Tetons. But mostly, a good partner enhances the experience and make success, however that's defined, more likely.
My watch data. It died just before the summit of White Baldy. Brian's watch had total vert at 16,150 and I estimate distance, including exit out, to be 27.5
The Pfeifferhorn is one of my favorite places in the Wasatch. Every time I've been up there it's been good. Last week Jared and I ran pretty casually to the top in 1:22, I heard the fastest known ascent time was 1:10 and figured that shouldn't be out of reach. I still haven't heard a cat to car time. Wednesday evening Jake, Josh and I all decided to give the Pfeiff a time trial effort and see how fast we could get up and down it. From the White Pine parking lot I ended up going 8 minutes to the first bridge, 25 to the second, 55 to the ridge and 67 to the top. New record? I guess my hopes of a sub 60 minute ascent were a little ambitious for the day. After I topped the ridge out I had bilateral calf cramps that slowed me up a bit. It was 95 degrees in the Valley when we started, I think that may have contributed the cramping, the steep trail and fast pace didn't help either.
As I summited, I was pretty tired. So tired that I debated the idea of hanging out and forgetting the round trip time. This seemed lame though since I had already made my mind up that I wanted a car to car time. I sat down until my watch read 1:08 and then slowly started making my way down. Being tired, I took it easy until the trail mellowed out on the ridge. From there it was a pretty good run out ending at the parking lot in 1:54.13. Jake and Josh a few mins back. Not bad. Besides the obvious fitness, I think easy gains could be made with cooler weather and a little more familiarity with the trail. I think we should all meet and make a race of it. Andy? Jared? Lane? Bart? Swain? Okeefe? Keith? Derkas? Say yes.
Andy and Brian gave the WURL a go today. Here there are looking fresh about 7 and a half hours into it.
At 13,804 feet, Gannett is the highest point in Wyoming. That always disappointed me because I thought the Grand should be the highest. Well, it turns out Gannett is a worthy mountain. There aren't a lot of easy options when it comes to actually getting to the peak so it is oft referred to as the "hardest" of the lower 48 state high points.
My pops was heading up to climb it with a local climbing club over 3-4 days. I thought it would be fun to run the peak in a day and on the way in and out stop by their camp, shoot the breeze, and receive a morale boost from seeing friendly faces over a long solo effort.
Check out the Jay Z tribute/budget Gannett running movie...
The route was the long standard path from Elkhart on the Pole Creek Trail, to the Seneca Lake Trail, to the Highline Trail, past Island Lake, into Titcomb Basin, over the Dinwoody/Bonnie Pass, across the Dinwoody Glacier, up the lower ridge of the Gooseneck Pinnacle, across the Gooseneck Glacier, over the berschrund, and then up to the summit along the beautiful thin ridge line. The exit would be the above in reverse.
Round trip distance 42.2 miles with near 10,000 feet of gain.
My goals at the outset were to not get benighted, to not get caught in one of the frequent afternoon electrical storms, to get good pictures and video footage on my point n shoot to make the above movie, and to make the summit of course. I was faintly aware that the "fastest known time" for Gannett was 12 hours and some change from one of the shorter trails but I wasn't going for speed. I tried that last weekend and just ended up with a sprained ankle. Plus, I'm not accustomed to 40+ mile efforts...yet.
I made the drive through scattered thunderstorms on Thursday and was surprised that it's less than 5 hours to the TH. I packed up a hefty heap of junk, thinking that since I was solo I should do like the boy scouts and "be prepared". This led to extras like a puffy, pants, rain shell, roll of tape, lighter, extra food, etc, being added to the pack. Not cool.
I chatted with a really kind couple from New York for a few minutes before retiring to my favorite place to sleep - the back of Subaru (if I'm sleeping there, an adventure is imminent). Constant bursts of lightening resulted in a fitful few hours of sleep before the alarm went off at 3:30a. A cold breakfast and half an hour later I was off, armed with the memorized directions, chasing the beam of my headlamp. I ran by feel, judging the gradual ups and downs by my breathing, trying to move at what Jared calls "guide pace" i.e. all day pace.
Finally getting light
After a couple hours, it was light enough to turn off the lamp and I was struck by the austere beauty of the high alpine lakes and rugged terrain. Another hour and I intruded into a campsite with a familiar tent and called out my dad's name. It was 7:00a and I woke the poor guy from what was certainly a poor night's sleep. We chatted for a few minutes and he pointed me in the right direction. His summit bid was to be the next day. I told him I wouldn't do anything stupid like cross a sketchy snow bridge or fall in a crevasse.
An hour and twenty minutes later, I caught my first glimpse of Gannett and started rock hopping down to the Dinwoody Glacier. Following in the tracks of prior parties to avoid the very small but present crevasses, I ran across the glacier and obtained the lower Pinnacle Ridge, which served as an easy scramble to the Gooseneck Glacier.
View from Bonnie Pass, looking toward Gannett
There, I bumped into Tom Egan of JHMG and his two clients. Tom was one of the nicest guys you could meet in the mountains, offering chocolate then and food in camp later. I thanked him and said I had a lifetime supply of unpalatable gels and was quickly off to investigate the snow bridge that allows easy passage over the bergschrund.
Bergschrund
The 'schrund was impressive and the snow bridge seemed pathetically small from below. From above though, it had fallen in on itself and seemed solid enough. Then, it was a quick scramble/snow traverse along a most gorgeous section of the continental divide to the summit. 6:30 minutes after starting down the dark trail, I was on the summit looking west. The Tetons were clearly visible but shrouded in dark clouds, motivating me to get out of the high alpine.
Looking west from Gannet summit toward stormy skies over the Grand Teton
Mistimed this self portrait
First rule of glacier travel...
Reversing the route, I was captivated by a butterfly, partially frozen in the ice, fighting for its life. Then I poked my leg through a crevasse. I was getting complacent, thinking I was through any perilous terrain. I still had to go over the pass and try to make it out 20ish miles before the afternoon thunderstorms rolled in.
Life and death struggle
Back in Titcomb Basin, I stopped by my dad's camp and warmed some water for a 'cup of noodles' that I had brought along. I casually mentioned that the "Fastest Known Time" for Gannett was 12 hours and change but from a different trailhead. He tried to convince me to rally out of there since I was at 9 hours and it had taken me 3:15 to get to that point earlier that morning. Not my goal and feeling like I'd be unlikely to keep that same pace out, I sat down and enjoyed the Ramen noodles. We chatted a bit longer for a total of around 20 minutes between both stops through his camp. Then I was off, running and shuffling and running.
For a while, it looked like I was going to get caught by some gnarly looking storms but the dark clouds miraculously parted, leaving the sun to dehydrate me further. Around 8 miles to go, I ran out of water and therefore couldn't eat anything else. Not that I'd done a good job eating since leaving my old man's camp. Too many gels earlier left me with a sour stomach. I did my best to hike the rolling up hill and run the rest. I figured there was no rush since I thought the FKT was out of the bag.
I began seeing more and more tourists and could feel the end. Then I could see it. Then done.
Final time: 12 hours and 45 minutes and 55 seconds.
My big watch
Decent for a fun run in which I was able to visit with my dad and other hikers, try and make a budget home movie, and never really rush things. Turns out, I should have stopped less and run harder since the current speed record is 12 hours and 39 minutes by Peter Bakwin in 2009. He however, ran the shorter Tourist Creek trail, which measures around 36 miles with less overall vertical. As an unexpected consolation prize, I'm guessing my run was the fastest to date from the standard trail head. I think that speaks to the relative paucity of attempts at running Gannet fast.
Brian Harder has dubbed all things fast regarding the Grand Teton, the Grand Teton Speed Project or GTSP. Will we see a GPSP? Sub 9 or 10 seems completely reasonable for a "real" ultra runner, and I know of dozens that are capable.
The obvious difference between the two is the distance, with Gannet being three times as long. Also, with significant time on snow/glaciers, I opted to bring along crampons and an ice axe. Going solo led to me carrying extra gear. Water is abundant, but over the first/last 10 miles, it was quite stagnant and I chose to suffer in the moment instead of run the risk of future GI discomfort. Longer time out means more risk of being caught by storms. So many factors must be entered into this equation but at the end of the day, it's just going for a run.
I was on Lone Peak last week and saw a few parties on Center Thumb, since then I've been thinking about getting back. Jared had most of the day free and was psyched on doing a little climbing so after the saturday morning soccer games we were off. Our 11:15 start had us looking at nothing but clouds. When we finally got a view of the cirque we saw snow! Although the first snow of the season is exciting, snowy ledges/wet rock don't help climbing. To make matters worse clouds started to build and snow started falling the second we entered the cirque. We sat, shivered, and ate while trying to decide what to do. It came down to the good ole, "We might as well take a look." 
