Grindstone 100 - Virginia Is For Runners

 

 

**Mile 42.6**

 

My body jarred.

"Where the hell am I?!"

My senses started firing...

**24hrs till Grindstone**

 

We pulled up to the Sharp Top trail head as the sun was setting.

 

"I think we timed this perfectly."

 

 

Joel and I started the 1.5 mile 1500ft climb up to the Peaks of Otter and Sharp Top summit. We passed a few people making their way down the mountain as we frolicked upwards towards the sun... relieving our legs from the 8.5hr drive. This was perfect. I had been aching to run. My new job had me working 70hr weeks for the past 2 weeks, so running had been kept at a minimal. My runs were mostly at night with one long run on my only day off. I had missed the sun...

 

 

I missed chasing sunsets...

It was full blown Fall in Virginia. The higher we climbed... the prettier our world got. We cruised along the rocky single track until we started reaching bigger boulders... the summit was near... and so was Wilma.

 

 

"Hey dude... look!"

 

Wilma was less than a few feet a way. It became obvious that she had grown acquainted with the human presence and started towards Joel. We watched in amazement, snapped a few pictures and continued towards the summit. No matter how friendly a wild animal appears... they are still wild at heart. A few moments later we exited the canopy onto a rocky summit... 

The summit was gorgeous!  

 

 

 

We scrambled on the rocks...

 

Played summit tag...

We were 2 kids on recess... playing on a massive playground...

 

We finally settled in for the sunset...

 

 

We relaxed on top of the summit soaking in the gorgeous sunset. We heard a rustle down below... Wilma was back. We sat for a few minutes until the sun disappeared over the mountainous horizon. We strapped on our headtorches and started back down... just to find Wilma stalking us once more.

 

 

The mountain grew dark as we headed back to the car..

 

 

We changed clothes in the parking lot and headed to the lodge for dinner. For a moment we thought we may not get served but after 10mins or so... Phyllis came to take our drink order. Phyllis was a sweetheart... she had been working at the lodge for 22yrs and may have had a little too much fun during the 60s... if you catch my drift. Upon requesting a local brew, Phyllis took our IDs out of the room for examination. We downed 2 amazing local brews and a delicious cheeseburger before we headed back to set up camp. After another beer by the fire we took to our tents.

 

**Mile 42.6**



 

"Was I asleep?"

I looked down at my Ambit. Reality quickly sank back in. The dark, lonely and foggy dirt road up ahead was hauntingly peaceful... peaceful enough to put me to sleep while running...

 

 

**12hrs till Grindstone**

 

I unzipped the door to my tent and entered a cool, foggy, Virginia mountain morning. ...

 

 

Joel crawled out of his tent, "You remember that rain storm we got at 1am? Well... my tent... is NOT waterproof anymore."

Joel started the camp coffee while I started packing...

 



Nothing beats a good cup of camp coffee...

We weren't too terribly far from the Grindstone start/finish area, so we decided to wake up early and head to the Natural Bridge for the morning. We drove to the Natural Bridge exit and stopped for gas... I hoped this wasn't an omen for another mountain cat sighting...

 



"They're charging $18 to see a natural bridge?! No sir!!"

We walked straight back out of the Natural Bridge gift shop... haphazardly looking at the fence. Yes. We could have jumped it... no one would have ever known...Rule #2: No cops. Instead, we continued on down the road to Staunton.

We stopped at the Wendy's in Staunton...

"You're total will be $6.66 sir."

Well Hell... that can't be a good omen... but nonetheless... I downed the Damien burgers.

We stopped at the Food Lion for a few last minute treats... Coke and PBR.

We crept out of town and onto country roads which provided clear views of what the next few moons had in store...

 

 

We arrived at the Boy Scouts Camp and set up our tents on the outskirts of tent city...

 



 

 

We walked into the Boy Scouts Camp dining hall to pick up race swag, eat lunch, and attend the pre race meeting.

 

I stepped on the scale...

 

Patagonia girl, "Want to try and guess how much you weigh?"

 

I smiled. "131."

 

*slides counter weights to 131 and pauses*

 

"Huh. Looky there. You're right."

 

I smiled and watched her write 131 on bib 79.

 

I grabbed a small plate and joined Joel at a table off to the side. The pre race meeting was interesting. The RD made everyone who had completed a 100 mile race stand up. He then began with the count...

 

"Who has completed... 1?"

 

I stood up.

 

"2?"

 

I sat down.

 

" 3? 5? 7? 10?"

 

The last man standing... who I assumed had no life or lots of money... had completed upwards of 60 100 mile races. 60. SIXTY.

 

After snagging a pair of Swiftwick socks from the raffle, we headed back to the car to grab a few last minute things... like a Wendy's Damien cheeseburger... and my Elevation Tat with the Grindstone 100 elevation profile...

 



 

 

It started sprinkling so we headed back to our tents to get off our feet for the remaining hours before the start...

 





 

**Mile 42.6**

 

I spoke out loud...

 

"You should have drank that coffee Joel made you at North River Gap (mile 37)."

 

I slumped over in the middle of a deserted dirt road.

 

"Did you pull something in your back? What's your deal Andrews?"

 

It hurt to breathe deep. 4 days later at my FARM appointment with Dr. Beard... I would find out I had dislodged a rib... in which he quickly popped back into place... rendering me good as new.

 

**30mins till Grindstone**

 

"You're going to get hot. Go ahead and lose the jacket."

 

 

I took Joel's advice and tucked my jacket in my vest before I headed outside to wait by the starting line.

 

"Gangsta!"

 

I walked over and hugged Ashley (http://ashruns100s.com/).

 

"Were you out running mountains last night? You're crazy!"

 

The one thing I've learned when traveling... even when it is for a race... you have to take advantage of the time you're given to explore a new place. Who knows the next time you'll be there.

 

I chatted with Ashley, her husband Dan, and Sean "Run Bum" (http://www.runbumtours.com/) for a few minutes as we awaited the start...

 

 

We secured our headtorches and when the clock struck 6pm... we ran through the starting chute...

 

We bottle knecked as soon as we hit the single track and then less than a mile into the race the rains came. It wasn't long before I felt the chill from the downpour. I pulled my jacket out of my pack. A huge group was heading towards me... "I think we made a wrong turn." We are less than 4miles in and they think we made a wrong turn? Nope. I carried on... and a few minutes later... the group came barreling past... "No we are good!"

 

No kidding...

 

Night fell and we entered a dense fog as we climbed up the gravel road to Elliot Knob. This climb was grueling and massive... gaining 2500-3000ft very quick. I was in a small group of headtorches when I decided to stop and adjust some newly purchased gaiters. I could already tell these bad boys would have to come off soon... they were rubbing my ankles raw. Without thinking I entered the single track...

 

"Where'd all the headtorches go?"

 

I wandered across the slippery rocks for about a half mile...

 

"D-A-M-M-I-T."

 

I missed the knob... I didn't punch my bib. I quickly headed back towards the road to climb the half mile or so up to Elliot Knob to grab the Suunto punch. Great start Andrews...

 

I retraced my slippery steps and continued the long stretch to the next aid station. The rain was off and on, but the fog was constant. It was hard to make out anything more than 3-4ft in front of you... so needless to say... the down hills were a lot slower than I wanted them to be. The rain had made it too dangerous to try and pick up speed... and I wasn't about to risk an ankle this early.

 

I refilled my bottle at Dry Branch Gap aid station (Mile 14.6) and started another big climb. The one thing I love about night running is that you can't see the big climbs. I tucked my bottle in my shorts, took a painful deep breath, and pushed until the trail flattened. I loved the climb. 

 

I rolled into Dowells Draft aid station (Mile 22) around 11pm. I quickly refilled my bottle and bladder and headed back into the misty fog. The temperature had dropped quite a bit since the start. It would eventually dip below 40 at some points during the race... but for now I was in a good place and warm. A few miles passed and my stomach began to rumble. Damien was awakening.

 

I battled the demon in my stomach for a few miles until it stopped me in my tracks. I excused myself from the trail. That fiery red head Wendy had poisoned me... $6.66... what a hoebag.

 

I settled back into a rhythm for the next few miles... praying my stomach would settle. It didn't. Again... Damien stopped me in my tracks. I hobbled off stage clutching my stomach. And wouldn't you know it... I ran out of toilet paper. I could hear Lucifer chuckling from the dark woods...

 

My stomach had finally released the demon by the time I reached Lookout Mountain aid station (Mile 30.5). I downed some chicken noodle soup and chatted with a few bystanders before journeying back into the dark abyss.

 

It was a little after 2am when I popped the trunk of my Element at North River Gap aid station (Mile 37)... my headtorch caught Joel in a blank, startled and sleepy daze.

 

"How ya feeling buddy? Can I get you anything?"

 

"Toilet paper."

 

I sat on the tailgate restocking my vest with Clifbar gels and Clifbar Shot Bloks.

 

"I made you coffee if you want it."

 

I did want it. I wanted every ounce of the black gold that was in that thermos... but I knew in my heart I should decline.

 

"I can't right now. My stomach has been tore up for the past 15 miles or so."

 

I knew I ran the risk of becoming dehydrated from Damien, so for the past 7 miles I had downed almost 2 liters of water. I tossed my gaiters in the back before leaving Joel...

 

"Sleep tight! See you in a few hours!"

 

Joel had parked alongside the road right before the aid station, so I technically hadn't been to the aid station yet. I hopped on the scale. I had gained 2lbs and my hydration was crystal clear. Solid.

 

The climb out of North River Gap was relentless. It went on FOR-E-VER. Hands down the longest climb in the race. I pushed hard through the extreme wind, fog and occasional rainfall until the trail leveled out. The trail became instantly fun along the ridge. The wind howled loudly at the high elevation... I couldn't wait to get back to this section during the daylight!

 

**Mile 42.6**

 

Ugh. I have to wake up...

 

"But I just keep cruising... can't stop won't stop moving..."

 

Taylor's voice slowly started entering my brain...

 

"It's like I got this music... in my mind... saying 'It's going to be alright'..."

 

Uh oh...

 

"Cause the players gonna play play play play play..."

 

By this time I was singing out loud...

 

"And the haters gonna hate hate hate hate hate..."

 

And by the time the shake it off hit...

 

"Shake it off... shake it off!"

 

I was the crazed loner doing this half run, half dance maneuver in the middle of the Virginia mountains.

 

I was wide awake by the time I hit Little Bald Knob aid station (Mile 44.6). I didn't even slow up... just kept on cruising... I couldn't stop, wouldn't stop moving...

 

My headtorch blinked as I passed through Reddish Knob aid station (Mile 49). Luckily the sun would be up soon and I could finally tuck it away. The wind howled as I climbed the concrete road leading to Reddish Knob. A freezing wind hit me as I became exposed to the open parking lot. I ran passed a RV that was camped up top for the night as I made my way over to the next Suunto bib punch. I paused and looked down at the lights below. Little hints of sunlight were playing peek-a-boo through the morning clouds. Almost day break. I couldn't help feeling a little sad as I started jogging back down from the knob... I knew the sunrise would be gorgeous from that spot.

 

I killed my headtorch as I made my way down the winding concrete road. It was still fairly dark along the road, but my eyes were overjoyed at the sight of natural light... and they deserved a break. There was a crowd at the end of the road. I looked for Joel. We didn't have much of a plan to get Joel to the turnaround... so we were going to wing it...

 

 **Joel's Recount of 430am to 6am**

 

4:30am: I'm woken by my alarm, the Samford and Son theme song, and "Good Job Runner" being yelled by a volunteer at AS5 who happen to sit all night on the bumper of the car behind. Lucky for me, about 1:30am, the person with the cowbell was ran off or a bear drug them into the woods. I'm hoping for the bear. Meanwhile, this conversation went through my head:

"Wait, where in the hell am I?
Ok, North River Gap.
Why in the hell am I getting up at 4:30?
To give myself plenty of time to get to the turnaround, that's right. I seriously have to revaluate my hobbies!"

Once the dust wore off by 4:32am, I walked to the AS to find a guy named Sam. I met Sam 5 hours earlier by offering him a Good People beer, but he was focused on his AS duties and making eggs. I was really trying to bribe him to help set up a ride. Sam asked a few buddies if they could help me out, but no luck.

4:45am: I set off up the road. 5 hours earlier, there were only 3 cars, me being the 3rd. Now, there were dozens. Opportunity was looking good. I stopped by the car and brushed my teeth and set off to find a ride. Easy enough I thought. Easy breezy. I walked up and down the road for 30minutes. Nothing. No one was stirring. Somehow, the guy curled up in the front seat of a Honda Fit looked more comfortable than my nights sleep against a cooler and Zach's shoe rack (nice invention though).

5:15am: Im starting to get a little more aggressive. Knocking on windows and scaring babies. Yes, there were actually a lot of babies there. I found a couple with a whole back seat open and they were packing up. This is my ticket. I approached them and they were looking for a lost cell phone. They said they were going to the turn at 50, and they could offer me a ride, but I could tell they were petrified. You know, because I'm some psycho that's going to stick them in a pit and ask them to 'rub the lotion on the back'. But it was my only shot. They said the were leaving in 5 mins. I jetted back to the car, changed into my gear right there on the street, grabbed my pack, gels, thank god my light jacket and a gallon of water. I walked back up the street and they had left. As I was walking back to the AS, they drove past, looked right at me and didnt even check up.

5:25am: Feeling like a complete loser, I returned to the AS to see if there was anyone else. 5:30am was my cut off. I had to leave by 5:30 to get to the turn by 6 to not miss Zach. I saw a woman walking away from the AS with jacked up frizzed hair and possibly a hint of lazy eye. This woman is just crazy enough looking to give me a ride. Her name was Carrie. I explained my story and she felt pity on me. I fabricated the details to sound extremely desperate. It worked. 5 minutes into the ride when we got on very narrow roads, she said, "You know, Im just warning you, most people get out of my car and kiss the ground because Im such a bad driver"

6:03am: We get to the turn, ironically right behind the car that had left me, and she dropped my off. I was very grateful, and grateful to kiss the dirt my feet hit. She was a bad driver, and one day, Carrie might figure out how to work the defrost. I was scared, very scared.

At the turn, it was cold. Very cold. The wind was blowing and there was no shelter. I filled up my vest and set off the 1/2 mile to the check point to see if Zach had checked in. I returned to wait on him. I spotted a guy sitting in the back of a Volvo wagon eating cookie dough and coke. His name was Levi. I sat on his tailgate with him for half an hour and killed time. Dude was so nice. He spotted #79 approaching and Saturday's run had begun.

 

**Mile 51**

 

"Hey dude! There's your runner!"

 

I saw a relaxed, long hair guy sitting next to Joel. 

 

"Hey bro I'm Levi."

 

I instantly liked Levi.

 

A quick climb up a gravel road to Gnashing Knob (Mile 51.5) to check in and it was back down to pick up Joel for the next 13 miles. Sean and Dan had just arrived and were waiting on Ashley. After leaving the turn-around crowd, we headed back up the long, winding paved road.

 

 

 

I was stoked that Joel was now with me. Not only was it an energy boost to have someone so full of life next to you... but I've always enjoyed our running conversations. The climb up the asphalt road was slow. I told Joel I wasn't running much of the uphills... I knew what we had in store. I was stoked that Joel was going to get to run this section with me. It had some descent climbs but it would be a treacherous and hopefully fun downhill. I grabbed a few cookies as we passed back through Reddish Knob aid station (Mile 54). We started down the dirt road when I saw my friend Brandi cruising up towards us.

 

 

 

"Zach!" She greeted me with a hug and a smile. We chatted for a few minutes before we parted ways. I caught back up to Joel and settled into a good rhythm along the dirt road. No complaints about running fire roads when it's this gorgeous...

 

 

  

We passed over the same grassy fields and knobs I had crossed earlier that morning... only this time I didn't have to imagine what the scenery looked like. The absolutely beautiful scene was laid out in front of me on a chilly, windy October morning. Thankfully Joel put up with my slow moving climbing and silly behavior...

 

 

 

We topped the ridge and danced along the beautiful single track. I knew I had to thoroughly enjoy this section because the next 4 miles or so were straight down... so I became lost in the moment...

 

 

The downhill was everything I thought it would be... long and painful. After a lifetime's worth of descending... I hopped back on the scale at North River Gap (Mile 65.65)... back down to my original starting weight.

 

We made our way over to the Element where I dropped the tail gate...

 

 

I didn't need to change socks, but I did to be on the safe side. I restocked my vest with gels/bloks, filled my hydration bladder, and took a few swigs of Coke.

 

"Thanks buddy!"

 

I was a little sad Joel had to stay behind. I had really enjoyed the last 13 or so miles, but I knew I would be picking Joel back up at around mile 88. I ran up the asphalt for a 100 yards or so before exiting onto the single track. A quick left turn and I immediately plummeted 18,000ft into a very dark place. I wallowed in self pity for a good 15 mins...

 

I squatted down and hunched over trying to catch my breath and stretch out my back...

 

"Pull it together Andrews. Stop being a f#!*&%^ baby and move!"

I moved. The out loud conversations with myself tend to work more times than not. I caught a 2nd wind as I came through Lookout Mountain aid station (Mile 72). I pushed hard through the next big climb. I topped the climb and started descending down into Dowells Draft. Of course I remembered ZERO of this climb from the previous day... so from here until eternity... this section will forever be etched in my memory as one of the most pleasant and beautiful down hill single track moments of my entire life... I will be forever winding through the autumn kissed Virginia mountains...

I eventually reached Dowells Draft (Mile 80) at about 2pm.

My legs were finally feeling the affects of all the downhill running. I was looking forward to the long climb up ahead. The afternoon air was cool as I started ascending the mountain. I went ahead and slid my gloves on because I knew I would be moving slower and would lose a lot of body heat during the extended climb. It was a good call. The climb was waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay longer than I remembered the descent being. The previous night/morning was so fuzzy from the wind/rain/fog combo... that I couldn't recall much of the mountain scene.

I passed a runner on the way up.

"I'm falling asleep. I need a nap."

I felt bad for the guy... I'd been there. just a few hours earlier. There wasn't much you could do to snap out of it... except to... maybe... "Shake It Off..."

I somehow bottled the Pop before it spilled from my lips... I left him to find his own means of dealing with sleep deprivation.

Before leaving Sleepy behind he said... "The aid station should be at the top of this climb."

No sir. I  had already learned this lesson. DO NOT LISTEN TO ANYONE GIVING OUT DISTANCES TO AID STATIONS!!!!

I looked down at my Elevation Tat and instantly knew I had a long downhill to Dry Branch Gap aid station. I can't tell you how much my Elevation Tat came in handy... without having to think too much... I had the elevation profile, mileage and aid stations right on my forearm. I bid farewell to Sleepy and continued up the mountain enjoying the gorgeous Fall colors.

The climb was again deceptively long. The wind picked up again when I hit the top of the ridge, but diminished when I started my descent. I rolled into Dry Branch Gap aid station (Mile 88)...

Joel was ready to get moving and I had no intentions of stopping for long at the aid station.

"Hey bro! Let's just grab some stuff and get moving."

I didn't realize it, but after I drug myself out of the pits of Hell after mile 65.5... I had made good time. We started the long ascent towards Elliot Knob. The climb was slow moving for me and I apologized more times than Joel probably wanted to hear.

"I'm sorry man. My legs are trashed and my back is hurting. I think I did something to it."

Joel didn't mind. He was a wonderful pacer. We had great conversation, he remained positive throughout my bitchy stages and gave me my space. I tend to worry more about the person running with me than myself... but he did a fantastic job of removing himself from the scene when he felt like I needed to be alone for a few minutes. I like to think we have a solid Bronnection on the trails.  

"Is this climb ever going to end?!" I was just being whiney at this point.

"I'll run ahead and scout!"

It made my heart happy that Joel was here enjoying this place with me. I really wanted him to run as much of the daylight portion as possible to soak up the beautiful Virginia backcountry. 

Joel would run ahead to scout and to get warm and come barreling back. The temperature had dropped and the wind had picked up the further we climbed... but the views veered our minds from the cold...

  

We continued the slow climb back to the gravel fire road. My back had started getting tight and my legs were feeling the abused... so I started kicking rocks. Not as much fun as I remembered as a kid...

 

"UGHHHHHHHHHH! I swear if I kick another rock..."

 

Every time I kicked a rock it propelled me to run a section... positive thinking right?

 

 

I saw a power line.

 

"We're at the gravel road!"

 

 

 

I wasn't sure why I was so excited. This was about to be extremely painful. The faint memory of the previous evening's hauling up this long, rainy and foggy road was blurred... the only thing I remembered was thinking how bad it would hurt at mile 92ish. Well... I was back... and I was right... it did hurt. My legs were taking a beating, so I rotated back and forth between running and hiking... with the occasional squat to try and stretch out my back. It was still hard to breathe deep...

 

 

But we carried on... enjoying the last remaining miles of twilight before we entered night #2...

 

 

 

We started around another corner and I slammed on the brakes and did the "soccer mom" stop... you know... the stop where you extend your arm in front of the passenger seat to ensure your child is safe... as if your arm was far more powerful and safer than the seat belt... yea... that one.

 

"Hold up." I soccer mom stopped Joel instantly.

 

"What?! What is it?"

 

A big cuddly black bear was standing in the middle of the gravel road looking down at 2 runners that had just passed. We enjoyed the moment. We started walking towards it and with one crunch of gravel the bear bolted skittishly into the woods. Bryce 100 - mountain lion. Grindstone 100 - bear. 2/2.

 

We continued down the mountain and caught up to my bearded brethren Niclaus Combs (http://nicklauscombs.com/) and Hannah.

 

 

 

"Did ya'll see that bear?"

 

"So that's what we heard!"

 

We chatted with Niclaus and Hannah for a moment before we slipped on our headtorches and entered back into the night.

 

I shouted ahead... "Where the hell is the next aid station?!"

 

Joel had went ahead again to scout... or maybe to get away from my whimpering. We were now on a winding dirt road, slowly making our way to the final aid station. Flickering tiki torches indicated we were close. We stopped for a minute at Falls Hollow aid station (Mile 96.6). I grabbed a Snickers bar and an aid volunteer poured coke into my Salomon soft cup. I couldn't contain my excitement.

 

"This. This is the best snack I have EVER had. No lies. Thank you guys so much!"

 

I was ecstatic. I grabbed a 2nd snickers bar and tucked it away in my front vest pocket...

 

"I'll save you for later..."

 

We continued into the night... crossing over railroad tracks... climbing... dropping... and climbing some more. Somehow... I made one solid push along a gravel road. Not sure how I kept that pace for as long as I did... but it felt good to open up for a few minutes and run. We made our way back through the rocky sections... closing in on the Boys Scouts property. I kicked another rock...

 

I shouted into the night... "I AM SO OVER THIS S@*%!!!!"

 

I could see Joel's headtorch stop its constant bob from up ahead and turn around...

 

I peeled back the 2nd Snickers wrapper. Humph. I instantly felt better. Though I had trudged through rain and over extremely rocky terrain... I walked away from Grindstone with zero blisters, zero bruises, and zero black toe nails. My feet just simply hurt from stepping on and kicking every rock in Virginia.  

 

Joel pointed at a sign... we were back on Boy Scouts property. Only a few miles stood between us and the finish. We eventually got to the Boy Scout camp showers.

 

"I'm going to head back to the area and wait for you. Keep it going!"

 

My smile was hidden behind my headtorch...

 

"Thanks buddy.... seriously... thanks for everything."

 

I watched Joel dart down the gravel road back to camp and I turned back into the dark woods. I wandered through the woods... following the pink/reflective strips blowing from the tree branches. 

 

"Who caught me?"

 

I turned around to view the bright light shining through the woods...

 

"Oh... hello Moon."

 

It was only the moon. I carried on conversation with her as I strolled through the lonely woods... trying my best to piece together the adventure that was just had...

 

I smiled as I popped out by the lake. I could see the lights from tent city on the other side. All that was left was a simple run down a gravel road into camp. I made my way under the totem pole entrance, across the grassy field, and finally trotted down the tiki torched finishers chute.

 

After 101.85 miles and over 23,000ft of gain and 23,000ft of loss... I crossed the finish line in 27hrs06mins and hugged that totem pole.

 

 

I gave Joel a huge hug and thanked him again. I couldn't have asked for a better crew/pacer/friend to have with me for this adventure. Joel went ahead of me and cranked the heat up in the car. I stripped off my clothes in the parking lot... my apologies to anyone who saw my white ass (was probably brighter than the moon).

 

We decided not to camp. We both wanted to be home as early as possible. Joel hadn't seen his kids in a few days and I wanted to get as much rest as possible on Sunday before I started another 70hr work week on Monday. We headed back down the country roads and into town where we stopped at a gas station. Joel grabbed some coffee and I grabbed a Gatorade and Advil PM.

 

"You just drive until you get sleepy and when we stop... I'll get us a room."

 

PM in hand... "Now is there anything you want to say to me before I pass out?"

 

I had been up for 40hrs and running 27 of them... I was ready for sleep.  

 

"Hey buddy we are here."

 

I awoke famished and through my blurred vision I made out the Golden Arches...

 

"Can we go to MacDonalds?"

 

We pulled into MacDonalds and placed my order. We patiently waited while the car in front of us talked with the guy behind the window of the drive thru. We finally pulled up to the window and was greeted by Matt of Roanoke.

 

 

Matt: "Did ya'll see that guy driving that car in front of you?"

 

How could we miss the silver Dodge Caliber with 2 radio antennas on the bumper... big enough to reach out and contact another life form in a galaxy far, far away...

Joel: "The silver one?"

Matt: "Yep. He's a pedophile."

Me: "OMG."

Joel: "What? Are you serious?"

Matt: "You know how I know?"

Joel was starting to get nervous but mustered out... "How?"

Matt: "My boss told me."

 

Matt of Roanoke leaned out of the drive thru window stopping less than arms reach from Joel. He slowly slipped a 6" red handled knife from his pocket...

 

Matt: "I'll cut him."
 

Joel: "Oh wow."

Me: "How does he know?"

Matt: "That guy hit on him once."

Matt walks away to fix my Coke.

I turn to Joel, "Wait, Matt's boss is a kid?"

Matt hands Joel the drink. "I don't have any problem with the gays. They just better not hit on me."

Joel: "Ah yes, cause you got the knife."

Matt: "You know, I got a gay friend. I'm cool with it. He doesn't hit on me or nothing. It's a respect thing."

Matt leaves again to fetch my food.

Joel turns to me, "WTF man!?! This isn't happening. You just can't go around accusing people of being a pedophile."

Me: I'm not completely sure Matt knows what 'pedophile' means."

Matt: "Here you go man."

In unison we say "Thanks."

Joel: "Hey, be careful of that guy in the silver car."

Matt pats his pocket... "Oh I will. Don't you worry."

 

We started making phone calls for nearby hotels and finally landed a room at the Motel 6. I got to the door and jerked. Locked. I tried again. Still locked.

 

"IT IS OPEN!!!"

 

The Paula Dean looking night clerk yelled from across the lobby. I walked in and informed her that we called a few minutes ago for a room. I went ahead and apologized for my appearance. My worn face and bloodshot eyes screamed 2 day drug binge... not 2 day mountain running binge. I tried my best to semi explain why I appeared this way... but Paula didn't care. Paula just smiled and handed me a room key for a 2nd floor room. We grabbed a few things from the car and headed to our room. I slowly moved up the stairs...

 

"Looks like you're getting your exercise this weekend."

 

I glanced over to the lady standing in the breezeway and chuckled... "You could say that."

 

Joel was already getting ready for bed. I still needed a shower and to eat. I looked over at Joel and smiled...

 

"We need a beer!"

 

We cracked open a PBR and tapped cans in victory. I rinsed the mountain dirt from my body and after 42hrs of consciousness... I crawled into a warm, cozy bed and closed my eyes.

 

For me... Grindstone 100 was more of an adventure vacation than a race. 3 days of camping, mountain running, and beer drinking with one of my best friends. Life gets no better than this...

 

 

 

Till tomorrow...

 

 

 

 

 

 



 

 

 

 

 

 



 

The Trailcation Reconnection

 

“Try to imagine a life without timekeeping. You probably can’t. You know the month, the year, the day of the week. There is a clock on your wall or the dashboard of your car. You have a schedule, a calendar, a time for dinner or a movie. Yet all around you, timekeeping is ignored. Birds are not late. A dog does not check its watch. Deer do not fret over passing birthdays. Man alone measures time. Man alone chimes the hour. And, because of this, man alone suffers a paralyzing fear that no other creature endures. A fear of time running out.”

Time. It controls every aspect of our lives. The world revolves around timekeeping and therefore we are a slave to it. There's really nothing we can do about it so... suck it up buttercup!! Simply cherish the time granted to you and make the best of each passing moment. I've learned a few things during the 28yrs I've lived on this rock... and one of the most important lessons I've learned is that you've got to live in the moment and take opportunities when they are presented to you. Now don't get it twisted... I'm not one of these people that say "I live in the moment and don't worry about tomorrow. We could die today... so what's the point of worrying about the future?" Because I know... there's a good chance I could be living tomorrow.

I'm not saying that you shouldn't make plans for the future... one can not literally live in the moment... that's just foolish talk. But you can be fully engulfed in the present moment and enjoy it without thinking of what tomorrow brings.

My wifey (Kati) got this amazing opportunity to fly to Spain to visit her cousins. She was a little hesitant to tell me about her grandmother getting her the ticket because she knew how bad I wanted to head overseas.

"Are you crazy?!?! Go!! You're going to Spain!!"

At that moment, I think I was more excited than she was about her going to Spain. She's worked her ass off for the past few months and she deserved to get away on a nice relaxing, worry-free vacation.

Kati's trip just so happened to perfectly line up with my 2 weeks notice, so I started making plans as well. This would be the perfect time for one last hard training weekend before heading up to Virginia in a few weeks. So like normal... I started prepping Hotel De Andrews for my mancation/trailcation getaway...

And Kati bought me some snacks...

Before we knew it... it was the night before the flight and we were well into our second batch of margaritas...

The next afternoon... with a hug and a kiss... I became wifeless for the next 10 days....

 

 

I set out north to the Smoky Mountains. I had no real plan.... no real destination... I simply wanted to spend as much time as I could in the mountains. I had hoped to catch a sunset up on the Appalachian Trail somewhere... but we all know how wonderful Atlanta traffic can be. After finally getting out of Atlanta I stopped to get gas and a bag full of cheeseburgers. I had all but given up hope for an AT run because it was already getting late and I wasn't even out of Georgia yet. As I passed through Rabun Gap I flashed back to last October. During our Pitchell  road trip, Erin and I needed a drive break so we ran up to Rabun Bald. So in search of my first summit... I veered off course and headed up the mountain to the trail head.

 

I was the only car at the Beegum Gap trail head. Perfect. I had been craving solitude for weeks. The route starting from Beegum Gap is roughly 2 miles up the Bartram to the summit. It is runnable but one long constant climb (1100ft). The reddish glow of a beautiful north Georgia sunset was weaving in and out of the trees as I made my way up towards the summit. I was looking forward to sitting on the observation deck and watching the sun set... however... I entered a cloud a 100 yards or so from the summit.

 



 

I got to the observation deck only to discover the fog in 50 shades of grey... well... maybe just one big shade of grey. True mountain runners know that it is not about the views. It's about the journey. It's about connecting with the environment and enjoying nature's most fascinating playground. Good views are just bonuses.

 

 

The sun was setting quickly and I didn't pack a head torch so I couldn't stick around on the summit for too long. The clouds opened for a quick little second to reveal a little glimpse of sunset mountain silhouettes. The trail was dark on the way down, so I was a bit more cautious on the descent... but it felt good to loosen up the legs after driving for so long.

 

I pulled over at a scenic overlook on my way back down the mountain. I dropped the tailgate on my Element (aka: the patio on Hotel De Andrews) and enjoyed a cheeseburger and Coke as I watched the night swallow the mountains.

 

 

At night fall I continued onward to the Smokys. I stopped by a Smoky Mt rest area/visitor center right outside Cherokee. Of course the information center was closed but I could only assume that the bathrooms were open all night. As I pulled into the parking lot my lights shined upon an old beat up Cadillac parked in the first spot. I pulled in next to it and started walking towards the stairs that lead up to the visitor center.

 

"Can I help you?"

 

A creepy voice came from the shadows under the stairs.

 

Terrified. 

 

The visitor center worker walked out from under the stairs with a cigarette in hand. He reminded me of the bartender from The Shining...

 

 

I would have probably punched the guy in the face if I could have reached him. Who does that?!?

 

I asked if the bathrooms were opened and he replied with a simple yes. I could feel this guy's stare as I made my up the wooden stairs. I hurried through the glass doors and into the bathroom.

 

Ding.

 

I heard the sound of an entrance bell from down the hall.

 

F this I'm out. I was not about to be chopped to pieces by an ax. Rule #1: don't die.

 

I decided to leave immediately and carry on into Cherokee.... where I stopped at the Food Lion... where I was greeted by a 16yr old cashier with braces. Much better. Much safer.

 

After leaving Cherokee I entered the Great Smoky Mountains National Park. I caught a glimpse of a beautiful red fox as I winded along the foggy mountain road. I got to Newfound Gap and decided to head on up to Clingmans Dome. I figured it was far enough out of the way that no one would really bother me. I pulled into the Clingmans Dome parking lot and stepped outside into the cold and windy mountain air. There were a few cars parked in the lot... probably backcountry hikers... but it still felt nice having other vehicles around. I put up my sunshade inserts that I had cut out for each window, a blanket over the front seats to hide my bed from any onlookers, and curled up in my sleeping bag for the night.

 

Day 1: Thursday

 

 

 

I woke up to the sound of a car door shutting. I peeled back the blanket to reveal a dreary foggy morning. I could hear the wind howling outside the car as I started changing into a pair of shorts. Even though it's summer... it can get chilly up at 6600ft. I put on a base layer, a light long sleeve Patagonia pullover, and started getting my pack ready.

 

 

I stepped into the cool mountain air and took a deep breath. I had missed this.

 

 

The first thing I wanted to do was head out to Andrews Bald... why wouldn't you want to visit a bald that was named after you?! ;) The Andrews Bald route is about 4m RT (round trip) with about 900ft gain.

 

 

I got out to the my bald rather quickly and propped up on a rock to enjoy breakfast.

 

 

After enjoying another Clif Bar... I bid farewell to my bald and headed back towards the trail head.

 

 

On the route back I blazed past a backpacker and quickly exchanged "good mornings." I got back to the trail head and continued up the AT spur trail towards the actual AT. I passed another set of backpackers (appeared to be a father/son duo) and again exchanged "good mornings." Their tired voices did little to hide the apparent long night they had just encountered. My next destination was Silers Bald. With the spur trail it's about a 10m out and back with a little over 2100ft gain. I ran this same route last summer and it was gorgeous. It takes you over beautiful ridges with extended views of the mountains. The fog hindered any chance of these scenic views. I pressed hard out to Silers Bald, tapped the rock in the middle of the summit and retraced my lonely, muddy steps back down the AT. Instead of taking the the spur trail back, I headed up towards Clingmans Dome.

 

 

I hung out at the top for a few minutes before heading back down the concrete path to my car.

 

 

 

I passed by the father/son backpackers as well as the first backpacker I saw. By this time of morning the parking lot was filling with tourists walking around snapping pictures of the fog... and of signs... and of the bathrooms. I opened the backdoor to Hotel De Andrews and sat down on the patio. I peeled off my muddy shoes and socks and slipped on my flip flops. I got several odd looks as I drank a coke and unrwapped a cheeseburger. Too early?

 

As I started out of the Clingmans Dome parking lot I saw the father/son duo sitting on their packs with their thumbs out.

"Where yall heading?"

 

I moved my bed to make way for thier massive packs. Anthony explained how him and his son (Carter) had taken a wrong turn and were off track. They were from Texas and decided to hike a few days while the Mrs was on a business trip in Nashville. We chatted as I drove them down the mountain on the NC side. Anthony told me how he was trying to get back in shape. He had been working extremely hard in the gym and had lost 20lbs already! We eventually pulled up to their rental car. Anthony handed me a $20...

 

"Thank you so much. Get ya some gas."

 

I handed the money back to him and told him to simply pass on the trail magic.

 

We shook hands and parted ways.

 



 

 

 

By the time I got to Newfound Gap it was drizzling. I sat on the patio and made lunch.

 



It was pouring by the time I finished my sandwhiches. I was a little worn from the 14m earlier this morning so I crawled into my bed and took a short nap. After a brief nap I threw on my pack and headed out for my next destination.... Chimney Tops.

 

 

I started out on the soaking wet and muddy AT. It was a little under 2m to Indian Gap.

 

 

 

 

I headed down the Road Prong Trail towards the Chimney Tops Trail. The trail descended quickly. The first part of the trail was made up of very slick rock in which I was extremely cautious. The last thing I wanted was to take a spill out there and get injured.

 



 

 

The trail intersected with the Road Prong Stream and dissapeared. I wasn't sure if that was part of the trail or not, so I just marched through the water until it reappeared....

 



 

Which it took quite a bit of wading to get back on the trail...

 

 

But eventually it turned back into rolling singletrack. I ran along the stream until the sound of rushing water grew louder. I turned and looked down to the left and saw my first glimpse of Road Prong Falls. I climbed down to the bottom of the falls, splashed water on my kneck and soaked my trucker cap in the cold water.

 

 

I climbed back up and started again along the trail. I felt a peace that I haven't felt in a long time as I went running alongside the rushing water. I felt so in tune with nature... I could feel myself getting back to the root reason I started trail running.

 

 

I eventually popped out at the Chimney Tops trail and began my ascent to the summit. I started around a corner and heard a loud breaking sound. I thought it could be a bear, so I stopped and started slowly walking to investigate. I continued my jaunt up to the top when I saw it was only a group of people.

 

One of the workers looked up, "The trail is closed until 5p."

 

I was only a half a mile or so from the summit and the weather had finally broke to reveal blue skies.

 

"Well damn. Think I could just go tap the top real quick?"

 

My big puppy dog eyes had failed me.

 

"We don't mind... but the NPS up ahead would."

 

 

After 4.5m I had to turn back... summitless. I hopped back onto the Road Prong trail to make the long climb back to Indian Gap. Back through the water...

 

 

And up the slippery rocks...

 

 

I finally made it back to Newfound Gap and caught a glimpse of one of the few times the blue sky showed itself during the trip...

 

 

I jogged back across the road. As I began walking to my car I saw the same backpacker I had saw earlier at Clingmans... only this time he had his thumb out. I pulled out a pack of crackers and started munching as I walked over towards the backpacker.

 

"Aren't you the guy that flew past me near Andrews this morning?"

 

"Haha I thought I recognized you. You ok?"

 

"Any way you could take me down to Sugarlands Visitor Center?"

 

It worked out perfectly. I was heading down to Gatlinburg to grab a 6pk anyways. I was just going to kill some time in the hammock down by the river until the Chimney Tops trail head opened at 5pm. I wanted that summit.

 

We hopped in my car and chatted all the way to the bottom. Stefen was out for a few days backpacking and really only had one night left before reaching his car in Elkmont campgrounds. All of his gear (sleeping bag/clothes/etc) was soaked and it didn't look like it was going to dry out in the off and on rain showers. He wasn't looking forward to spending another cold night in a wet bag. We talked about adventures and family on our way down the mountain. He asked where I stayed last night and I said I car camped up at Clingmans... probably would do the same that night. He advised me to not car camp off Newfound Road because he's seen people get busted (asked to leave and/or fined), but said Clingmans would be fine again probably. I dropped Stefen off at the visitor center and again had another cheeseburger on my patio.

 

 

I went into the visitor center bathroom to change into some clean shorts. I was on my way out when I saw Stefen again with his thumb out.

 

I rolled down my window.... "Hey buddy... what's up?"

 

"Just looking for a ride to Elkmont."

 

I laughed. "I can take you to Elkmont! You just said you wanted to go to Sugarlands!"

 

He laughed and hopped back in the car. "So we meet again!"

 

He told me a story about another time he and his friend were looking for a ride back to their car. He said that it was below freezing and they were caught in the bitter cold. A couple pulled over and rolled down their window....

 

"Sorry... but we don't give rides to hichhikers."

 

WTH!?!?! Who does that!!??

 

I dropped him off at his car and we bid farewell.

 

"If I ever see you on the side of the road Zach... I promise to give you a ride! Thanks again!"

 

I decided to go ahead and grab a campground spot for the night. My legs had already carried me 24 miles and I really wasn't wanting to head all the way back up to Clingmans tonight after running Chimney Tops. I justified it by telling myself It was easy access to Mt LeConte in the morning... and to the brewery tonight.

 

It was almost 4:30p by the time I checked into the campground, so I decided to mosey on over to Chimney Tops trailhead to wait for it to open. There was already a car parked at the trail head by the time I got there.

 

The radio personality proclaimed... "Thunderstorms and heavy rain making its way towards Gatlinburg."

 

I grabbed a water bottle and tucked a gel in my shorts and headed out onto the trail.

 

 

I love the Chimney Top trail. It's 2 miles (1500ft gain) straight up to the summit. It's a hard climb but you run next to a river, get to climb alot of stairs, and the best part is the scramble to the summit.

 

 

I passed a couple enroute to the top and they shot me the "you're crazy look." A break in the treeline revealed some ominous clouds...

 

 

Finally I reached the sign marking the warning to the summit...

 

 

 

Now the fun part! The scramble to the top!

 

 

 

I got to the top and to my surprise... there was a view.

 

 

The spine was tempting me with a traverse... but perhaps another time... when I wasn't alone... and it wasn't about to storm.

 

 

I sat on top of the summit enjoying the view while nibbling on a Clif gel. Silence. No wind... no traffic... just blissful silence. The glorious moment was shattered when a massive clap of thunder boomed across the valley. "It startled me" would be putting it in the least embarrassing way possible... so yea... "it startled me."

 

I quickly scrambled down the rock facing and started back on the single track.

 

"Did you climb that?!"

 

"I did."

 

"Wow. Good for you. I got scared and turned back!!"

 

I explained an easier/shorter route that was just past the sign. Of course it wasn't nearly as fun... but hopefuly she will climb back up for another shot at the summit.

 

I stopped to tighten my shoes before the trail started the descent. I wanted to run the descent wide open. It would be great training and alot of fun to do it on tired legs. After a quick relace... I bounded down the mountain. At about the halfway mark another loud clap of thunder ripped through the air. This time it unleashed a beastly rain shower. I welcomed the rain. By the time I got to the car I was drenched. I felt refreshed. I felt alive.

 

After drying off I made my way down to the gas station to fill up on gas and buy a 6pk. I got back to the campground a little after night fall and changed into dry clothes. I sat in the main room of Hotel De Andrews and had 2 cans of Ravioli and a bottled water. Once it stopped raining I made my way into town and scored a parking spot along the river. I made my way through the sea of tourists that filled the streets. Shouldn't these kids be in school or something? It's Thursday.... or Friday? Wait. What day is it?!

 

I stopped into Sugarlands Distilling Company for a taste test... and then Ole Smoky Moonshine Distillery... and then there was bluegrass...

 

 

 

I eventually made my way down to the Smoky Mountain Brewery to test out their new Black IPA. Rule #6: drink locally when applicable.

 

 

 

Delicious. About half way through this towering glass of goodness... the self proclaimed Beer Master of the World came and sat next to me. This man would not shut up about the beers that he's drank... in all the amazing places... all around the world. He blabbed on and on about why you should drink this beer and not that beer... how the taste of this beer pairs well with this food. I too sir... can read a book on beer. However.... I read more maps than books... (<--- name that band and I'll love you forever).

 

I'm still unsure of who BMW was directly talking to. It was only me, the bartender, and the Beer Master of the World at the bar. Neither myself nor the bartender paid this man much attention. I felt as though he was the kind of man that just enjoyed hearing himself talk. An entire day of hard running in the mountains and a little bit of shine had me in such a euphoric state that I could have listened to the Beer Master's ramblings all night... but I didn't. I finished my brew and headed into the night. I parked at my campground spot, popped the back windows open and crawled into the back of my car. I had a midnight snack... whipped up by the finest chefs in the Hotel De Andrews kitchen. I listened to the sound of the river flowing a few yards away and drifted off to sleep...

 



 

Day 2: Friday

 

I awoke to the sound of gentle rain on the sunroof. The world was barely illuminated as I poked my head out of  my sleeping bag. I traded my pjs for a pair of compression shorts. Dang my thighs are sore... guess that's what a ton of hard descents will do to you. The game plan was to start the day off running Mt LeConte via the Alum Cave trail. It's one of my favorite trails to run. It's about 5.5 miles miles to the summit with about 2800ft gain. I had planned to go a little further once I got to the top. I wanted to hit High Tops, the actual summit, and then head out to Myrtle Point. Mt. LeConte was beckoning as I drove towards her...

 

 



 

The trail head was surprisingly empty so I was able to get a parking spot in the main parking lot. I sat on the patio as I filled my hydration bladder and stuffed my vest with Clif Bars and Clif gels...

 

 

 

I passed hikers along the first little bit of the trail. Of course one of the most popular hikes in the Smokys is to the Alum Caves (2m or so from the TH), so there's always large groups within the first 2 miles along this trail.

 



 

Most of the peaks were covered in clouds... which I hear is very rare in the Smoky Mts...

 

 

 

 

I came up to a surprisingly emtpy Alum Cave area...

 



 

Shortly after leaving the Cave I started into the clouds...

 

 

The further I went up the mountain the more people I came across. Most of the hikers I met were on their way down from their stay at Mt LeConte Lodge. Of course I had to answer the same questions over and over again... "Are you going all the way to the top?! Are you running all the way?!" I was looking forward to the descent. I've found if you're moving at a good speed going downhill no one wants to bother you. I happily danced in and out of the clouds...

 

 

At one point I ran upon a grandfather and his grandson on their descent. The young boy was cloaked in his Boy Scouts attire and you could see the love of the outdoors had been passed down from the old man leading the way.

 

The old man did not speak a word but his warm smile said more than any morning greeting I've received so far.

 

The young boy's eyes were full of excitement... "Good morning Trail Runner!"

 

I immediately got chills. I've been called a trail runner before... but not in this way. It's hard to explain the way he spoke these simple words. He proclaimed the name "Trail Runner" with such conviction... almost as though it was an Indian name... like "Running Bear" or "Stands With Fist." For some reason it just struck a cord in me and in that short 15 second moment... the term "trail runner" had a new meaning for me. I felt a sense of pride.

 

The boy's morning greeting resonated within me for the next little bit. This kid had blessed me more than he would ever know. It opened my eyes and heart to the absolute beauty of what mountain running was all about. Trail running felt new to me again...

 

  

I made my way past the lodge and took a sharp right up to High Tops and welcomed the grey abyss with open arms...

 

 

I didn't stay long up on High Tops. I hurried down and ran up to the actual summit which is far from exciting... but I tossed my rock onto the pile nonetheless...

 

 

I still had one more point to hit before heading back down the mountain. I was getting a little hungry so I hurried the .7m over to Myrtle Point to enjoy the views and another delicious Clif Bar...

 

 

A small shiver let me know it was time to get moving again. I wanted to really push it hard on the way down. I cleaned out my shoes, popped an electrolyte tab and took off...

 

 

 

I retraced my footsteps through the beautiful Appalachian Mountains...

 

 

"Running is my art... and the mountains are my canvas." - Timothy Olson

 

Artists and athletes are one in the same. However, society has placed art and athletics on separate ends of the spectrum... but in reality... they share more similarities than they do differences. Both are so in tune with their inner most ideas and aspirations... both are extremely passionate about creating something beautiful and meaningful... both have something deep inside that drives them... and when it all comes together.. when it all clicks... a masterpiece is created.

 

The entire descent of Mt. LeConte was picture perfect. For the first time in a long time I felt a true connection with nature. I wasn't out competing against anyone... or even competing against the mountain... I was simply in my own little world... creating a work of art... enjoying every blissful moment and the athletic ability God has granted me. Clarity.

 

 

I exited the single track and onto the dirt grounds at the Alum Cave where I was greeted by 10-15 spectators. Most were sitting around snacking while a few were pressing on up towards the trail. I slowed just enough to catch a few kind words of encouragement from the hikers. I locked back onto the single track and continued hard until I reached a cluster of people at the staircase. It was late into the morning and more hikers had made their way onto the trails. I chatted with a group I had passed earlier on my ascent. They told me more in detail about the Mt LeConte Lodge and how they stay up there almost every year. After the train of people made their way up the stairs, I fell in line behind the group waiting to go down. Once off the stairs I rushed over to the water and soaked my hat before heading back to the trail head. I finally reached Hotel De Andrews. The temperature was warmer down at the base of the mountain. I removed my pack and tank, grabbed a beer and walked down to the river. The water was frigid. I found a spot in the shallow part of the stream where I soaked my feet. It wasn't long before I found another spot where I could completely sit down and submerge my lower half.

 

   

I sat in silence enjoying my cold beer... taking in the peaceful sounds of the river. I'm not sure if it was an alcohol induced epiphiny but it came in like a wrecking ball. I had not once worried about the time. There had been zero structure in my days. I simply woke up when I woke up, ate when I was hungry, and ran every minute in between. It felt amazing. Now I understand this feeling and way of life couldn't, wouldn't and shouldn't last forever because it would take away the joy of these types of moments... but for now... I planned to completely enjoy every second of it.

 

I soaked in the water far longer than I imagined I would. I was just so relaxed... so engulfed in that peaceful moment... I didn't want to move. But all good things must come to an end... (basically I finally started getting cold), so I pulled myself out of my river throne and made my way back to Hotel De Andrews. I made my way through the city and headed out to Roaring Fork Motor Trail for another delightful meal on the patio...

 

 

I parked a mile or so down from the Grotto Falls trail head because it's usually overly crowded and I wanted to have lunch alone. I finished my lunch, repacked my vest and headed out into the woods along the Trillium Gap Trail in search of Grotto Falls and the Brushy Mountain summit.

 

 

 

From my starting point, Brushy Mountain summit would be a 10 mile RT with about 1800ft gain. I ran this route last year from the actual trail head and really enjoyed the long extended climb. The climb isn't steep... it is literally just one long gradual uphill that taunts you to run it all (which I did not).

 

 

The first mile or so of the trail is picture perfect single track that follows alongside the road. I couldn't help but smile looking down at the cars driving by... hands stuck out the window pointing in my direction. Bet they thought they were going to see a bear... sorry to be a disappointment.

 

When I arrived at Grotto Falls it was infested with tourists. There were upwards of 30 people around the area snapping pictures and splashing around. I decided not to buy a ticket to await my turn to walk behind the waterfall. I chose to wade across the knee deep water to the other side. As soon as my legs hit the water my body went into "oh dear God this feels good" mode. I stopped for a brief moment to give some reprieve to my legs. A lady who was knee deep in water with a tripod gave me an awful look and started motioning me to get out of the way. Jake (my alter-ego) reached down into the cold water, picked up a baseball size stone and hurled it at the lady's forehead. Zachary on the other hand threw a frustrated glance at the woman and carried on across the water.

 

Within seconds of rounding the ridge I was out of the infestation and back in solitary confinement. I continued up the trail alternating between running and power hiking. I rounded a corner and saw movement up ahead. What the...

 

 

Pack llamas on their way back down from a Mt LeConte Lodge resupply. I've read about them but never thought in a million years I would actually witness them! I stepped to the side and watched them march on down the mountain. The leader of the llamas told me I had less than half a mile to Trillium Gap.

 

 

I hit the gap and started the last half mile up to the summit of Brushy Mt. I started hearing voices up ahead and a group of hikers popped around the corner.

 

"Well hello there!!! We haven't seen anyone all day!"

 

I was just as surprised to see them. This was the first time I'd ever seen anyone on the trail past Grotto Falls. We exchanged conversation for a few seconds... they warned me of the upcoming mud and I warned them that I would be heading back down soon so they shouldn't be startled if they hear something behind them.

 

The half mile to the summit is really beautiful... you get tucked away in a little quiet tunnel...

 

 

They were right about the mud...

 

 

And you probably have already guessed it... but no view from the summit!

 

 

I tapped the top and started my descent back down. I had conversed with my legs out loud...

 

"Ok guys... 2 hard miles and then I'll soak you in the cold water at Grotto again... deal?"

 

I swear I heard them moan...

 

I dropped quickly out of the clouds and before I knew it I had passed by the hikers heading down. I rounded a corner to see a park ranger hiking up. I slowed to a walk...

 

"Hey man can I ask you something? I know you're on a time crunch..."

 

I smiled because although it appeared that I was in a rush... I really was in no hurry at all.

 

Unfortunately a lady had hurt her ankle near LeConte. I was no help. I told the ranger I had only been to Brushy Mt. He thanked me and wished me safe travels down the mountain. Grotto Falls came alot quicker than I expected and to my surprise... not a single soul was there.

 

 

 

I plunged into the cold water and soaked for a few minutes.

 

"Ahhhhhhhh...." I listened to my legs sigh.

 

I heard a group coming up the trail so I decided to get out of the water... Heaven forbid I get in the way of another picture. I started back down the trail and came back upon the llama train...

 



 

I walked behind them until the trail widened out far enough to where I could pass. I called up ahead to the guy leading the train because I wasn't sure how easily llamas spooked. He threw on the brakes, thanked me for asking, and let me pass. I veered off of the trail onto the last remaining mile or so back to the car...

 

 

I sat on the patio at Hotel De Andrews with a can of Ravioli and a half full Gatorade contemplating what to do next. My legs were thrashed. 28 miles the day before and 22 or so miles already at this point for the day. My heart, body and mind were not on the same page:

 

H: Stay one more night...you'd loooooove to run the mountains one more day!

 

M: Where would you sleep? Do you really wanna spend money on another campground spot?

 

B: Bro... chill out. You're going to kill me in a few weeks. Turn in! Turn in!

 

H: What if you tapped just one more summit? Just one last sunset run...

 

M: Then you could just head on home and rest all day tomorrow right Heart?

 

H: Yes!!! To the top!!!

 

B: WTF!?!?! NO! NO! NO!

 

Well the heart and mind won. I decided one more trip up to the top of Chimney Tops would quench my summit lust. I drove through town and parked at the trail head. The parking lot was extremely crowded but I luckily scored a spot. I stripped off my wet shirt, grabbed a water bottle, and ventured to the top one last time.

 

The scramble is real...

 

 

 

I stopped at the Sugarlands Visitor center to change into dry clothes for the ride home. I knew I would get home late but I was dying for a hot shower. I stopped at a Wendy's right outside of Knoxville to refuel and loosen the legs up before hitting the long stretch home. I was the only customer they had. I tucked myself away in the corner table. A group of kids burst through the door...

 

The chaperon pointed back at me...

 

"Him! Get him to do it!"

 

A girl of maybe 13yrs old walked over to me... "Will you do the 'asdfda' dance with me?"

 

I looked at the woman who was chaperoning...

 

"Don't worry! It's for a youth group scavenger hunt."

 

Right.

 

I took a quick look around to confirm I was not being set up on "How to Catch a Predator."

 

Again the girl asked, "Will you do the 'asdfda' dance with me?"

 

(I used 'asdfda' because I had never heard of the dance she asked me to do)

 

One quick off camera dance lesson later I found myself doing the "asdfda." Now somewhere on social media... a skinny, muddy, ragged and worn hobo-looking trail runner is dancing in a Wendy's restaurant with a 13yr old girl. You're welcome world.

 

As promised to my body... I did absolutely nothing on Saturday. My cat Wobbles was so overjoyed to see me that we literally did not leave the house all day... except to watch the sun set... in which she followed me like a dog outside and sat on my lap. Crazy cat.

 

 

Trailcation was so much more than I could have hoped for... a reconnection to nature, to the love of the outdoors, and to the true meaning behind the reason I run trails. It reestablished my passion for adventure. People tend to put so much emphasis on racing. If that's your thang then roll with it! Everyone has their niche. You do you. But I urge you... every once in a moon... get out and just enjoy running in nature. Don't worry so much about your time, your pace or who finished ahead or behind you... because in all reality... by next weekend... that race and your finish time has been forgotten by everyone but yourself. I admire all sorts of runners... elites and locals alike... but one of my biggest influences has got something figured out... and I pray it catches your attention...

 

"Running as much as I do is a lifestyle, and racing with others is a celebration of that lifestyle, a public a collaborative expression of the thousands of hours spent honing a specific craft and art. Without the consistency and discipline of my daily running ritual, however, these depths would never be accessible, so in the mundane habit is where the true work is done. My most essential nourishment comes from being on that mountain every day, and it's not the kind of nourishment that can be found in food, supplements, or a book and not even while out running on a road. Though somewhat inscrutable, it is still indubitably sustaining, and that is why I run trails."

 

                           - Anton Krupicka -

 



 

Till tomorrow...