How much does homelessness bother you when you run?

Each year I attend the annual board meeting of the American Discovery Trail Society. I volunteer as their national coordinator of the country's only coast-to-coast trail.  We alternate our meetings each year to different locations along the trail. This year it was in Sacramento, California and I just returned from it. Attending the meetings is always a great way to stay connected with my fellow board members and re-energize for another year of progress forward with our trail and programs, but it also offers me the opportunity to run sections of the ADT that I don't get to very often.  Over the weekend, I was able to run 15 miles on the American River (home to the American River 50 mile trail race) which is also the ADT from Auburn to Old Sacramento.  I also went for a hike on the Western States Trail near Forresthill (also on the ADT).

Running along the American River, the bike path is atop a levee and there are ample locations to sleep in the nearby bushes, hotel fencing, and ravines.  Friday morning there was a very large number of people still waking up from their trailside camp spot and a few just setting out on the path for their morning stroll to wherever.  I passed a few huddles of people with bikes laden down with sleeping bags, puppies on rope leashes, and piles of beer cans.  Some of them were talking to themselves and others just stared at me.

Though there were a few other runners and bikers in the area, I was pretty well removed from roads or commercial activity and started to feel a little nervous during the run.  I realized that on my coast to coast run I never felt threatened or intimidated and wondered why the feeling was just now starting to set in.  Have I lost my immunity to thinking the best of all people or do people on the street give off a different vibe now than they did 14 years ago?

I'd like to think that people haven't changed - either me or them, just my interpretation of the situation.  I tried waving a little as I passed each one, a few fingers raised from one hand, just to acknowledge each person as a person.  Most didn't respond.

Maybe it was the Hokas.  

Wyoming Data is Posted: Number Crunchers Rejoice!

If you've just been itching to get your eyes on maps, pace, mileage, distance, calories burned, and elevation, here's everything you've always wanted.  I finally plugged in my Garmin 310XT and paired it with my computer and got an amazing amount of data about the Wyoming run.  I don't think you have to register or anything to view the info, I made it public. But let me know if you have any issues viewing the data.

My total mileage for the trip was 500.74 miles.  Total time on feet: 114 hrs, 3 min, 27 sec.  Elevation gain: 22,475 feet (more than I was expecting). Average speed: 4.3 mph (yes, I'm part turtle). Calories burned: 57,142. Calories gained by eating Pringles: 57, 141 (just kidding).

The Garmin data should be visible by clicking these links:

Wyoming: Day 1
Wyoming: Day 2
Wyoming: Day 3
Wyoming: Day 4
Wyoming: Day 5
Wyoming: Day 6 (Part 1)
Wyoming: Day 6 (Part 2)
Wyoming: Day 7
Wyoming: Day 8
Wyoming: Day 9
Wyoming: Day 10
Wyoming: Day 11
Wyoming: Day 12

If there's a different format you'd like to see, just let me know.

Time to Train again? Not quite.

Just last Wednesday I was running 46 miles over high plains and strong wind towards Utah.  My past history of recovery after these cross-state treks is months of rest. Not because my body needs it but that other parts of my life take over, and I don't prioritize running since I know that it's going to be another year before I have to perform like that again.

Not this year, or so I thought.  My friends in the Tucson Trail Runner group were headed out on a friendly 14 mile run into Sabino Canyon this morning.  They'd be running the Phoneline Trail which is a decent climb but nothing too taxing.  I figured it would be a good way to test my body and perhaps hold onto the conditioning I earned in Wyoming if I were to join them.  So, up at 5am this morning I got, drove across town and was surprised to join 50+ other people in the early light.

We were a long steady train of runners climbing the trail for the first few miles before we began to spread out.  After about 4 miles, I began to get a pain in my left thigh.  It was the same area that I had some new pain on the last day of my Wyoming run.  I almost never have muscle pain and this was a bit concerning to me.  I pushed through it today and finished the 14 miler in 3hrs 1min but my takeaway was grander than my time:  48 hours is NOT enough recovery time following a 500 mile run.

Now the trick is to recover, recharge and keep my fitness while not losing everything to months of inactivity.  

Day 12: 500 Miles Across Wyoming Done!

At 2:15pm today on September 13th, I reached the western border of Wyoming, my 29th state crossed on foot.  This trip along the Oregon Trail was quite unique compared to my other states. It was historic, rugged, and behind glass doors.

Day 8: Hallucinations from an Ultra Runner

Wyoming must have some zinger winters.  Nearly every highway hilltop is lined on the south side by snow fences. They look like oversized wooden pallets tipped on end and I imagine they allow the wind to blow through but stop the snow from drifting onto the road.  Some of them are quite long, so long that today one of the dirt roads leading between a set of them was called "Snow Fence Road".  

Yesterday evening, while on my 43rd mile of the day, it was actually getting hotter as the sun started to set.  Hewett is such a safe driver, he won't pull off on the shoulder of the road. He'll drive ahead until there's a pulloff.  But I was done for the day and he was nowhere in sight.  I was fantasizing for some way to get up the road and saw a train on the hillside. It was moving but not too quickly.  I figured I could run up to it, hop on, and then jump off when I saw the truck.  

Then I noticed it wasn't a train. It was the snow fence.  Later, after I told Hewett about my hallucination, he said he would have just left me sitting on the wooden fence train, telling my wife that I was sitting on a wooden rail not going anywhere in Wyoming.  

Then there was the time two days ago when I forgot I had a mustache.  It was another hot day. I have been applying sunscreen every couple of hours. The dry air also makes my lips chapped, so I apply lip balm often as well.  As I was putting it on, I thought the lip balm might also be good on my face to protect my skin from the strong headwind. I started to apply it between my upper lip and nose and I hit "an obstruction".  Oh yeah, I have a mustache. The balm had gotten soft in the afternoon heat. It was medicated.  And now my mustache had a thick coat of medicated lip balm, guaranteed not to chap, applied thickly to my full mustache.  It took the rest of the day wiping my face, plus a shower with a washcloth to get it out.   

Then there's encounters with wildlife. While running up on dozens of herds of antelope out here, they often bolt away. I love watching them run in groups. It's so iconic.  I imagine I can hear a bass voiced narrator from Animal Kingdom talking about how it's either eat or be eaten. These antelopes aren't much different than us, as they usually stop after 100 yards and turn back to see if that was far enough to flee from the danger.  As they turned back to me, I often have the feeling they see me clearly for the first time and say to each other, "What? We were running from that guy? We could take him! Hey runner guy, wanna race?"

"Sure," I say, let's race for pink slips.  "Nah," they'd respond, "let's race for that nice GPS watch on your arm."  They won the race and the watch, but I had the last laugh.  "Good luck re-charging the battery in 20 hours," I'd say with a maniacal laugh.  

Beautiful but tough day today. Ran 36 miles, 25 of it into a strong headwind with many long uphills. Climbing towards the western border of the state.  In the evening today, we got a flat tire on the truck and had to drive back to Lander to replace the tire in the morning. Fitting that the section where the flat happened was near "Rocky Ridge", a famous hill on the trail that has such unforgiving rocks along the trail that it often shook the wagons apart on the climb. The rocks are still there and even though Hewett was driving on a nearby county road, it too was filled with razor sharp angular rocks, one of which easily scalped the sidewall of the tire, causing an immediate explosion. Near South Pass on the trail tomorrow and still headed west. 

Days 5,6,7: Lots of Miles, a little bit of trails

For those curious about my route, here it is in simple form.  Started on the east, running west.  Yesterday I arrived at Independence Rock, so named because if you got there by the 4th of July, you had less of a chance of freezing to death before getting to your destination.  It was tradition to carve your name into the rock there as evidence that you had made it.  We climbed the 120 foot tall block and found some names from the 1850's.  Devil's Gate is a narrow crack in a mountain where a stream flows through. It was a mile off the trail and a good place for the emigrants to cool off.  While there, we stopped in Martin's Cove, an interpretive site run by the Mormons.  That was the first place I was able to get onto the actual Oregon Trail and run for any length of time.  The trail went for about 7 miles from Devil's Gate. It was scenic, remote, and totally what I had been craving.  I had spent the better part of 4 days breathing in diesel exhaust from the road shoulder so the fresh air welcome.  That section of trail took me past a former Pony Express station, now only a single rock in the tall grass.  Who searches out these sights, anyway? Just beyond was a BLM operated campground, shut down for the winter but still open for use.  

We camped there and had a great night, particularly after rinsing off from a hand pump with very cold water.  

This morning, we hoped to run more of the trail rather than the paved road.  It took some time, but we navigated a matrix of cattle trails, ranch roads, and odd angled side paths to stay on the Oregon Trail/Mormon Trail/ Pony Express/California Trail.  All morning today we went through cattle fences with wire gates. Surprisingly, there weren't any postings for No Trespassing.  We were excited that this might mean that we finally were in the open for some real stretches of trail. After 8 miles of blissful running with stunning views of some beautiful rock slabs that Hewett was craving he could boulder, I came to the last fence before rejoining the highway because the trail went back onto private property.  At that last fence was a sign saying "No Trespassing, violators will be Prosecuted." There was a phone number so I used my radio to ask Hewett to call it and see if I could cross with permission. The number was disconnected. He then used his iPhone to look up the organization on the sign and got through to them. They lease the land from the owners and couldn't give us permission since they don't own it themselves.  That meant that I had to veer away from the trail, buschwhack through the sage for a half mile back to the paved highway and miss the last section of trail. This private property thing is really unique compared to so many other states I've crossed.  In Ohio, it was commonplace to climb a style over someone's fence, cross their yard, and go back into the woods while on the Buckeye Trail.  In Indiana one day, I was running past a house with a sign that said, "If you can't stop in, at least yell 'Howdy!'"  I decided I did have time to stop. The family inside was a bit surprised when I knocked on their door and said I was taking them up on their invitation, but a few minutes later I was sitting in their living room sipping iced tea and watching tv with them.  

Those things don't happen here in Wyoming.  

After 30 miles on this highway today, we arrived in Jeffrey City and had a midday BLT at the only bar open in town.  We had been told that there was gas in this town but the store decided to stop selling it last month. That left us in a pinch as we needed gas and there wasn't any for a long way.  Looking at the map, we decided to run out the day and then drive to Lander for the night, for gas, and a shower.  I ran until 6:30, for a 12 hour day, covering 43 miles in the sun.  It's been a long day and a late night, but I'm starting to see the end of this trail and that's a relief. An article came out today from the Casper Star Tribune. Enjoy that:
http://trib.com/news/state-and-regional/runner-treks-oregon-trail-in-wyoming/article_ec7060a0-f1e2-5567-8a61-b35068f04a68.html

And here is one of the many videos I've taken of antelope along the trail. It also gives you an idea of what this land looks like most of the time.

Days 2-4: 150 miles done!

I like it when the hard stuff comes early.  When I hiked the Appalachian Trail from Maine to Georgia, I started in Maine (most go the other way). That meant that the first thing I encountered, after climbing Mt. Katahdin for the start of the trail, was the 100 Mile Wilderness.  Maybe the trail didn't get easier as I went south but there wasn't a more mentally challenging section.

The same challenge seemed to be the case here in Wyoming.  I'm not even half done yet so this could totally backfire on me, but the first four days were all road miles.  Most of that was dirt roads with the remainder being secondary highways.  The problem of finding the trail started on the first day, at the first step.  The Oregon Trail simply doesn't exist in most of eastern Wyoming.  It has been plowed, planted, fenced and posted in most every section. By "posted", I mean "No Trespassing". We did find one section of original trail.  It was marked on my map and showed that following it would be much shorter than taking a road detour to the next town.  I liked that as it is rare that the trail is shorter than a road.

Wanting to get more info on this trail section I stopped at the only house along the road going that way.  At the cattle guard protecting the yard was a sign, "Trespassers will be shot. Survivors will be shot again."  The sign was metal and bolted to an upright railroad tie.  It had been created with some holes drilled in it with those bullet decals people put on the side of their PT Cruiser.  Just to make it more authentic however, the owner had taken his own shotgun and blasted the sign with real bullet holes in addition to the fake ones.  Walking past the sign and across the cattle guard, I didn't have the courage to actually knock on the door of the home, but I did yell "HELLO?" from the yard about seven times.  Perhaps I wasn't close enough for a clean shot but no reply came from the home.  I left the yard and headed up the dirt road for 8 miles toward a possibility of a trail.

Hewett had driven ahead and found the section of trail. He ran the first half mile and was impressed until he came to a chainlink fence barring access with a sign reading, "No Hunting." Technically, trespassing does not require hunting and we considered using it.  Then Hewett met a neighbor who explained that the landowner had been having a tough time with hunters on his property. He said that we needed to get permission from the landowner and he could not give it to us.

Not wanting to infringe without approval I ran a detour on roads to the next town.  Still not finding "my friends."  Hewett did take a picture of the ruts which I'll attach here.

One observation I have about eastern Wyoming is that people mind their own business here. It's not a rude thing, more like a culture. That goes for staying off people's land, not doing U-Turns in their driveways, not parking your support vehicle on the shoulder near their driveway or asking unnecessary questions.  Don't get me wrong, people have been nice. Maybe hospitable is a better word.  For example, nearly every car pulls over into the far lane when passing me.  Most all of them give me a wave.  It took me awhile to figure out the Wyoming wave.  For senior citizens, you kind of cup your hand and twist it, as though you're opening a door knob.  For all other people, casually throw your hand out with fingers outstretched, like you're indicating to the blackjack dealer that you don't want any more cards.  Finally, for the most brief of interactions, two fingers slightly raised. That's all it takes to acknowledge each other, and all that is expected.  

This morning, as we were leaving Douglas, we stopped in a Maverick gas station so Hewett could get his coffee.  I got hot chocolate.  The place was swarming with middle-aged men starting their day, on their way to fields, wells, pumps, and machines.  I had to look hard to find a pair of jeans that didn't have a worn circle in the back pocket from tobacco.  People held the door open for us.  Many looked at me. But no one asked any questions. That sort of thing doesn't seem to happen here.  And it's not that I crave attention.  It just seems that someone who is dressed so differently as I am and doing something so seemingly bizarre, would arouse curiosity.  Twelve miles down a dirt road this morning, and many more miles from any obvious destination, I came across a rancher with a shovel. He was at the end of his dirt driveway where it meets the dirt road and he was digging up weeds that had grown around his mailbox.  These were the same weeds that I have now run on and past for 150 miles.  "Say, you've got your work cut out for you there," I chided, indicating the miles of weeds in both directions on both sides of the road.  "Oh, I'm just clearing it out so we can see the snakes better near the mailbox."  And that was the end of our conversation as I ran on down a road that you couldn't see the end of.  

In fact, several times when Hewett was pulled over on the side of the road and waiting for me, others stopped to ask if he needed help.  When he responded with, "Thanks, no.  My friend is running across Wyoming," the response has always been: a tilt of the head, a second of pause, and the single syllable, "Huh."  

If there's one thing I'd like Wyomingites to know about me, it's that what I'm doing out here is not really that different from what most other people are doing.  I get up early, I eat a peanut butter and banana sandwich, I drink my morning brew (for me, it's an energy shake from Hammer Nutrition), and I work hard all day, usually for 12 hours.  The visible difference is that I'm wearing bright yellow marshmellow shoes, nylon shorts and a hydration pack that, from a distance, makes it look like I'm wearing a sports bra.  Oh, and today I was listening to the soundtrack to Annie on my Ipod, a selection I doubt many drill workers chose today.  Listening to "N.Y.C." while watching several hundred antelope scamper away from me across prairie grass hills was quite an experience.   

I've heard that the "trail" greatly improves as we move onto BLM land southwest of Casper.  The purpose of this trip was to experience the Oregon Trail and so far, I have yet to set foot on it.  But traveling a trail, even if by road also brings with it a host of observations and experiences.  In the next two days I should see a drastic change in the route, going from busy roads to desolate trails.  It will be interesting to see what other changes are evident.  

Mileage so far:

Day one: 32 miles - Henry, Nebraska to Guernsey, WY

Day two: 40 miles - Guernsey to Glendo Reservoir 

Day three: 38 miles Glendo to past Douglas

Day four: 40 miles Douglas area to Casper. 

PS - I did find one bit of humor yesterday while running through Douglas. Enjoy and thanks to the owner of this door for sharing my sense of humor.  And Douglas, Wyoming was named "Home of the Jackalope" so this humor fits right in.  

Day 1 - looking for my friends

Hewett got me to the start on time.

After staying with family in Berthoud, CO last night (a wonderful stay with shish kabobs on the grill), we made it to the tiniest town of Henry, Nebraska by 10am.  South of town our map showed the Oregon Trail crossing a paved road just 1/3 mile from the state line. We thought that must be the place. Driving the road twice, we finally found a granite trail marker indicating where the trail crossed the road. SCORE!

I was surprised to see what was being the marker: an-over-your-head field of corn.  No tracks going in. No path to follow. I'd been warned about this, that much of the Oregon Trail crossed farmland and that it would either be too confusing or impossible to follow.  This was the case here. Taking some parting photos, we then picked the nearest dirt county road and started the run at 11 am.

It was a hot day with a moderate head wind which helped cool things somewhat.  I ran while Hewett drove ahead and looked for the best route to work our way to Torrington, the first town in Wyoming.  We zigzagged our way west and north on these dusty roads and got to town within a couple of hours.  It was really getting hot now.  A bank digital sign read 94 degrees.   Pushing ahead I got 8 miles down the road to the little town of Lingle.  Three kids were running a lemonade stand. This is when it was the heat of the day.  I don't carry money with me but the thought of ice cold lemonade sounded great. I told the kids that I was running across the state and that my friend was up ahead with my money.  They smiled and said, "Oh."  Gotta love a dedicated businessman.  I left with no lemonade.

The rest of the afternoon I made my way up a highway near what used to be the major thoroughfare for 200,000-300,000 migrants.

As I came across the first 30 miles of the state, I found myself looking for evidence of this trail at every turn.  Suddenly, I had a feeling reminding me of a time years ago in middle school.

When my grades weren't on solid ground in 7th grade, my parents encouraged me to repeat that year. Trying to make things easier for me, they also encouraged me to switch schools. I began attending a private Lutheran school where no one knew me.  For the rest of middle school and high school, I wondered what happened to all of my friends from one year ahead, whose house they were going to, where their parties were.  I had a new group of friends now.  Running this section of Wyoming, I felt that same loss - though these migrants came by here 160 years ago, I felt as though I had also just missed them by a year and that the track from them had faded before I could keep up.

This gives me something to look forward to, however.  Further on, I'm expecting to see sections of trail where the wheel ruts are 6 feet deep in sandstone.  Perhaps then I'll have a connection to the land and the people that I'm seeking out here.

Running backroads and highways today, I was initially disappointed with my trip along the Oregon Trail. Eight hours of running past me now, I realize that this is really just a stark reminder that it is all the more important to continue to preserve what little still exists.  Of the 1700 miles from Missouri to Oregon, only about 15% of the original trail can still be seen today.  I haven't seen it yet, but in the coming days, I sure plan to.

In Guernsey, Wyoming tonight.  May get to Glendo Reservoir tomorrow. Then Douglas, Casper, Muddy Gap, Sweetwater Station, Lander area, South Pass, Farson, Kemmerer, and Evanston.  Hope to finish now by Friday, Sept 14.  

Sponsors, Partners and Products, Oh My

My upcoming run across Wyoming has brought out some great people I need to thank for their support. See what the Summit Hut, Back Country Rescue and Red Rock Running Company have done for me!

The Summit Hut has graciously offered their support on yet another one of my epic runs. They helped me on my run of the Arizona Trail, my run across Iowa, Nebraska and Nevada all on the American Discovery Trail and now Wyoming on the Oregon Trail. This year, they are my official food supplier and I will be capping off each 40+ mile day of running with 2 or 3 (4?) two-person yummy freeze dried dinners.  Thanks Summit Hut!


Back Country Rescue was a huge help for my last run across Nevada. They supplied me with a great crew member and wilderness EMT Hewett Brown who tended to my feet, diet, and hydration issues. He has been sent out into the field once again and will be my primary support crew on this trip across Wyoming.  Thanks BCR!

Red Rock Running Company joined me to support my run across Nevada. This awesome Las Vegas based running store supplied me with my awesome Mizuno Wave Ascend shoes across Nevada and they're along for the ride in Wyoming as well.  Thanks Red Rock!

Besides enjoying the beauty of travel on these trips, I love it when my running can have a positive impact on the people and places I run.  That's why I was so pleased to hear that two environmental organizations were going to be working with me to promote this trip and preservation efforts along the trail I will be running. These are the Wyoming Outdoor Council and the Alliance for Historic Wyoming.

As much of the remaining Oregon Trail is largely unchanged from what the travelers experienced 160 years ago, potential energy development is literally on the horizon and I'm hoping future generations will be able to experience   the trail as I will be able to - seeing and hearing just what the settlers experienced.

Thanks WOC and AHW! I also need to thank many great people at the various BLM offices who have sent me information, answered numerous questions and lent their support of this trip.  Special thanks goes to Gary Long, former BLM manager for his assistance.

Happy trails to all of my supporting organizations and individuals!

Whoa! It's already time to run again?

This is my 40th year being alive.  And it has been an incredible year so far.  Following the record-setting run across Nevada last summer, I got busy with my job giving environmental education presentations in area schools. I love my job and I really loved not running 10 hours a day for a season.

But all of that training from a year ago didn't stick around forever and when I should have been gearing up for my next run across Wyoming, I instead got busy with a crazy self-designed money-making scheme (www.milliondollarsteps.blogspot.com) and making plans for an epic trip with the family. For the curious, the money thing really does work. In just a few months I went from $1 to $2k finding and reselling treasures at yard sales, but the work takes time and that has grown short this summer and fall.

This past spring, my family was invited to a wide range of places and activities: reunion, big birthday, wedding, camping.  We didn't want to decline any of them but they were all in different corners of the country.  Rather than racking up credit card bills with airfare for four, we instead decided to drive our two young kids in a 6,000 mile van and camper road trip.

Part of the money making scheme was to earn enough money to buy a camper for this trip. Then, two weeks before departure, a neighbor gave us theirs. I love it when things work themselves out.  The plan was to go as a family but my wife didn't have as much vacation time as I did so she flew in to meet us a few times.

So, single dad in the driver's seat, two kids in the back, and off we went. We drove from Tucson to northern Wyoming. Went camping for a week in Grand Teton and Yellowstone.  Caught Devil's Tower and Mt. Rushmore, Wind Cave and Wall Drug.  Got to Wisconsin to see family, Indiana Dunes, and my own mom's wedding and attended my grandmother's 100th birthday in Indiana.  Stayed with family in Chataqua, New York and saw Niagara Falls.  Then our final event was a family reunion on a homestead cabin in Vermont near Dartmouth College.  With wife having joined us, we headed over to the ocean for fresh lobster in Portland, Maine and the family flew home from Boston.

After 7 weeks alone in the car with the kids, my wife said I had "earned" a week to drive home solo.  I chose to take the coast. Saw my brother in Delaware and made a short side trip to Georgia.  17 years ago I hiked the Appalachian Trail from Maine to Georgia.  On that trip, I only had 72 miles to finish the 2,100 mile trail.  Then I got sick. It was November and I was still using my summer sleeping bag. Body got run down and I had to leave the trail a few days early.  This was the first chance I'd had to get back and I wanted to run the remaining miles.  Starting at the northern Georgia border, I ran the final 72 miles in 2 1/2 days, never expecting the rugged conditions of the trail in that state.  I finished on day 3 at 1am, marking a 40 mile day when I arrived at my van in Amicalola Falls State Park.  I was quite sore and exhausted but that's a good state to be in when you have to drive across the entire width of Texas.

From Georgia I made it home in 2 more days and had just a few weeks to piece together my 500 mile Wyomathon on the Oregon Trail.

Now, I'm at the Phoenix airport, about to board a flight for Denver, where I'll be picked up by my crew to start state number 29 tomorrow morning at 10 am.  Eastern border of Wyoming just east of Torrington on the Oregon Trail.  40 mile days?  It's gotta be easier than that summer drive with the kids, right?