Almost Spartan Time

Last Saturday was the last Obstacle Course class at Camp Rhino before this Saturday's Boise Spartan Spring. There were so many people that the class started late because everyone had to get checked in and pay. I don't know exactly how many people there were, but it was more than I'd ever seen at the class for sure.

We broke up into two groups and each group had an instructor go through one of four obstacles for about ten minutes before we rotated around. We tackled what the coach said were the most frequently missed obstacles - Olympus, Monkey Bars, Rope Climb and Spear Throw.

After a warm up, which included one of the most bizarre tasks I've been assigned either here or at CrossFit, my group started on Spear Throw. Oh, the bizarre task was to take off one shoe, then do a low bear crawl across the gym, and then come back backwards, all while balancing said shoe on one's hips. It felt weird, and was painful, but it certainly emphasized that we were not to rock our hips on the movement...

In the ten minutes, we each go two throws, and, to my immense surprise, I hit my first one. While in previous classes, they'd set up a tire target and had us throwing blunt tipped spears, for this class we had real Spartan style spears and a hay bale to impale. I didn't get my second one, but I know now that I can do it - if luck is with me.

On the rope climb, I wanted to be careful not to mess up my shoes too much more than I already did last time. The Altras are great for many things, but they do not stand up well to descending a rope. So I only really did one climb, because that is where I feel most comfortable at this point. I did try a bit of legless rope climbing, but I'm definitely not there yet.

Then my group switched instructors and went over to Olympus, which is a barely tilted wall with a variety of climbing holds, holes and chains with which one can grasp with one's hands while traversing across the wall. You can't put your feet on the holds, and the wall is slippery as heck, even for my sticky soled Altras. I did a little better on this obstacle, but I didn't make it through even the short length they have at Camp Rhino.

The Monkey Bars were my last station, and I actually felt good on them. I know the Spartan Race will have a longer set, but I felt strong as I went up and down on the thick bars. And I improved on my second try, even daring to swing bar to bar one time, instead of getting both hands on a bar.

A lot of people stayed for the boot camp afterwards, including me. We had a 400 meter run, plus a hill run, then 30 burpees for a buy-in. After that, two obstacles of our own choice, a spear throw attempt with a 5 burpee penalty for missing the target, and then a hill run. Repeat ad nauseum.

I tried to choose obstacles that were challenging. I did a heavy hoist. I did the six foot wall a couple times, the Monkey Bars a couple times, and I even tried the Olympus again, though I didn't get far. Altogether it felt like an awful lot of running.

I'm not really anticipating doing a whole lot of running for the Spartan Race. I'm a slow runner as it is, and I'm not going to be in a hurry. My main goal is to get through and minimize burpees, so if that means walking more than I run, that's what I'll do. I've been training with running up hills, so I'm hoping that will allow me to get through the race in my own time.

I've been preparing for this thing for so long, I can hardly believe it's almost here... I'm a lot stronger than I was last year, but am I stronger enough? That's what this test is about. I don't think I'll be doing this race again next year though. It's a lot of prep, and right around the time when I want to be focused on backpacking. Maybe I'll look into one that's in the fall, even though I'd have to travel. Even early spring would be better. And I might just start working on the trifecta with a longer race.

Training Hike to Dixie Butte

My husband and I had planned to go out to Sheep Creek again and hike up our old friend, 6125, but then we decided to change things up a bit and drove back out to the Dixie Campground in Oregon. It's kind of funny, the travel time is nearly the same, even though Dixie is a lot farther than Sheep Creek, because the Oregon trip is on paved roads nearly the whole way, while Sheep Creek involves a lot of narrow, winding dirt roads that necessitate a slower rate of travel.

So we drove out on Saturday afternoon, after we had completed our grocery shopping duties. The campground had plenty of spaces available, and we only ended up with one neighbor, which was nice. The spots there are pretty isolated from each other anyhow, but I like the quiet of a mostly empty site. The rest of that day was spent relaxing and hanging out and following the shade around.

The next morning, we got moving. Breakfast, then pack everything up and go for a hike. I still haven't quite figured out the best way to pack my new backpack, but even ill-packed it was so light. And my hiking shoes are light. I felt like I wasn't really carrying much at all, which was nice. Especially since I was going for speed.

On a backpacking trip, I won't usually be going for speed. I'll be going for endurance - fast enough to make my miles for the day without burning out. On a training hike, it's all about speed, because the time is limited. Based on mapping I'd done before we headed out, I knew it was a bit more than 5 miles to Dixie Butte from the campground. I set out around 6:20 and felt confident I could make it back before noon, even with the 2000+ feet of gain I was facing.

The first mile always seems to be the hardest. I need to get myself into the groove, make my body accept the yoke of work. But once it settles, I have an easier time of it. It helped that I was using the MapMyRun app on my phone, so I could hear when I reached a mile and what my mile pace was. For the first four miles, I was between 22 and 25 minutes per mile, a decent pace for uphill backpacking. But the last mile and a half, the trail just got steeper and steeper.

Once I could see the top of the butte, I had a choice between a super steep lane and the longer path of following the road around the butte. I chose the steep path, but I kind of wished that I hadn't. I slowed way down on that part. I might have been out of fuel at that point, but I didn't want to stop until I reached the top. So I pushed on, through pounding heart and gasping breaths.

The view from the top was a delight. In the distance, I could see the Strawberry Mountain Range and Prairie City and all sorts of rolling green landscape. The air was a bit hazy, I think because of moisture in the air - a nice change from "Dry-daho".

On the top, I took advantage of the fact that there was a privy and spent some time resting and relaxing - and refueling. Then it was time to head back. The way down, as is usual, went much faster than the way up. My feet were definitely feeling the hike, as well as my quads and hamstrings and shins and especially calves. But I was delighted that my ilio-tibial band issue did not flare up on the downhill portion. That tells me that I'm getting the right work in to prevent it from flaring.

Ambrose was waiting for me back at camp, ready to drive us home since he'd had some time to rest after his four mile hike.

Ambrose getting ready to head out - wearing his puffy coat. It wasn't that cold. I didn't wear a coat. 

When I ran here over Memorial Day weekend, I didn't realize I needed to take the right to get to the butte.

The road was pretty easy to hike on. But I wouldn't want to drive our Ford Focus up it.

I think I could see the top of the butte from here, but I'm not sure.

A nice little water crossing (that should probably be going below the road in a culvert).

Trickling waterfall.

It doesn't look like people have been driving up here much yet this season.

Though clearly someone was here relatively recently to clear these logs.

And then it got steep.

Oh, snow!

The short way. Also known as the incredibly steep way.

It did have some pretty flowers to admire.

But it just kept going, up and up and up.

And the road ended in yet more snow.

A lookout!

Pretty good view.

The pale green shack farthest away was a privy. 

Yeah, it was a nice place to take a break.

Strawberry Mountain Range and Prairie City below.

I think the mountain in the middle is Strawberry Mountain, but I'm not certain. 

It looked like there might be cabins up the road to the left.

Such a large and rounded fungus.

Can confirm: narrow road.

There was a tubing pulley!

Safe and sound at the car.

Little Trail Run

My husband and I drove out past Twin Springs to Sheep Creek on Sunday. His original exercise plan was to stay home and do close to home things, but I wanted to get out into the woods. I'm finding that I feel a lot better when I have regular doses of the outdoors. And while Boise does have some great options when it comes to outdoor recreation, sometimes it's nice to get away from the city.

Plus, if we were going to start doing weekend warrior trips, we needed to find out if the road was open all the way through.

I always loved referencing the population of Twin Springs, because it was 2. But when we drove through on Sunday, the sign on the way in reported a population boom - 9! But on the way out, the population boom was only to 4. Either way, that's some pretty good growth for a town in the middle of nowhere.

We parked at the new trail head for Sheep Creek and Ambrose started hiking while I finished getting myself ready. I wanted to put on my gaiters and that meant taking off my shoes, since the Altra gaiters are designed to be put on before the shoes. I also tightened up my pants cuffs so they wouldn't flop around while I ran. Yeah, I was planning on running out to the first bridge crossing and then back. I figured around 3 miles.

While I was getting ready, another couple parked and set off on the trail. When I got around to starting, I ran into Ambrose first, and then the couple, who politely moved aside to let me pass. Luckily, the trail wasn't too steep where I passed them, because there were parts of that trail where I wasn't so much running as walking with urgency.

My calves were killing me. I'm hoping that they will adapt to the Altras soon, because otherwise I'm going to have to figure out a different shoe. And I don't want to, because these shoes are cushy and protect my feet from rocks while also being lightweight (especially compared to hiking boots). I pressed on, despite the pain and ran when the trail flattened out sufficiently.

This is a route that I've taken a lot over the years. It's the start of one of our regular training hikes, up to 6125 (which I hope to do this weekend). And while it hasn't changed all that much, it's the first time I've done it this season. I managed to use some part of my mind to enjoy the scenery while most of it was occupied with not tripping and falling on my face.

I had to go slow once I reached the junction down to the bridge because that trail is just covered in softball sized rocks, waiting to reach out and roll my ankle. The creek was flowing so high and fast that I was concerned that the bridge might not be above water. But I had forgotten how high it sits above the creek. When I got there, I saw it was in fine shape, and the campsite looked to be ready for us to come for an overnighter.

I took a break on the bridge and saw that I was just shy of 2 miles. So when I ran back, I did a couple laps around the parking area to make sure I got all the way to 4 miles. It wasn't easy by then; I was covered in sweat and huffing and puffing. But I did it and then Ambrose cooked us steaks while I stretched. I had thought about a dip in the river to sluice off, but there weren't good places to get to the water, and the flow rate was fast enough to be less than ideally safe.

Then we drove home.

We couldn't stop because people were behind us, but that sign does read population 4. 

Bridge selfie. I was wishing I'd brought a hat at this point. 

Fast water, but well below the bridge. 

Bridge shadow art. 

Trail Maintenance Adventure

On Friday night, I drove out to the Cottonwood Campground near Arrowrock Reservoir. This is a road that I've been on many times before, sometimes driving, often in the passenger seat while my husband drove. But this time I was all on my own.

I had left my husband behind, because I was on the way to a Women's Only Weekend of volunteer trail maintenance with the Idaho Trails Association.

I'd first noted the existence of these last year, but none of the dates lined up for me. I wasn't planning on doing the one in June, but then one of my Facebook friends posted that they needed more women, even if we could only come for Saturday. I'd made a commitment for Sunday, but I could go out Friday night and work all day Saturday.

I signed up.

I was nervous about going to spend time with a whole bunch of strangers - and one person that I knew a bit. I don't make friends easily, and being social takes a lot more energy for me than being solitary. So even though I made my way without drama, I was feeling as jumpy as the road was bumpy. 

But when I got there, it wasn't bad. I said hello, and then picked a spot to pitch my tent. I'd taken the duplex rather than the car camping tent because that tent was way too big for just me. This would be a nice tryout of my new quilt, and I was borrowing Ambrose's new backpacking pillow, so I should be pretty comfortable. The ground was damp from recent rain, and most of the spots were right by the high flowing creek, so I figured I'd get condensation overnight, but I'd survive. 

After I was all set up, I joined the other women around a campfire. I sat on a picnic table bench because I don't own a camp chair - that was one item on the list of things to bring that I hadn't been able to comply with. I mean, I did bring a crate and a sit pad, which could work as a camp chair, but I didn't break those out the first night. 

I could feel my tense neck muscles relaxing from being out in the woods. It was pretty easy to talk with the women. A little hard to hear at times because of the creek, but I felt comfortable. These were my kind of people. One of them even asked "Who has the duplex?" and I was pleased to have it recognized by a fellow backpacker. 

I was a little uncomfortable when someone made popcorn on the fire, because I can't eat that right now, but there was no weird reaction when I declined to take any. It was fine. Nothing to worry about. 

I turned in earlier than everyone else, because I had been up since 4:30 in the morning. Staying up past 9:30 was a hard ask for me. Especially as it was getting colder. I slept pretty well that night. 

I slept in and then got ready to go. I wore my Rail Riders pants, Mountain Hardwear shirt, the boots that now leak, but I figured they'd be better for this kind of work even with a less than perfect waterproof status. I carried my weekender pack so I'd have room to carry more stuff if needed. More stuff besides what I was carrying, which was snacks, lunch, ten essentials kit, water crossing shoes, towel and 3 liters of water with Nuun mixed in. 

After a basic tool and safety lecture, we carpooled over the to trail head since the road out there wasn't great for low clearance vehicles. I rode in a Subaru, and while I think I could have gotten my Focus out there, it would have been a whole lot slower. Then we got our equipment and hard hats and paused for a group photo by the sign. Several shots, actually, one for the ITA and a few for a reporter who was coming along to add to a larger story she was working on about women and the outdoors. 

There were two forest service personnel with us, and, because this district had no women in a particular position, one of them was a man. But he didn't impinge very much on the women-only-ness of the trip. We had talked on Friday night about embarrassing the guy by talking about periods, but he did not require embarrassing. 

It turns out that there's a specific way to carry tools while hiking. Only the crosscut saw can go over the shoulder. Everything else gets held down by your side, like a suitcase. And they all have to be held on the downhill side of the trail. I started out the hike carrying a Pulaski, which is a combination of ax and adze. It didn't start out heavy, but it got that way when I couldn't switch arms except when we crossed the creek. 

We only hiked out two miles, but I hadn't been training in my boots, so it felt like a lot longer. Plus, I kind of felt like I needed to pee, and I had no idea where I'd be able to do that in such a large group. As we hiked, the leader of our group would stop to point out areas that needed work, why they needed it and the basics of what we would be doing. I relished those stops to let the Pulaski rest on the ground - and to learn. 

After we got two miles out, we stopped because there was no bridge across the creek and the ford was going to be pretty gnarly. Better not to risk it - and there was plenty to do in the first two miles. But first we took a break. I sat near another woman, and the reporter came over to us both and talked with her first. When she talked to me, I did take the opportunity to mention that I write about backpacking and have self-published books on it. At that, she asked for my email address, so I thought that was pretty neat. 

After the break, I worked with another woman on building a water bar. Then we filled in a hole in the trail. And time just flew and it was time for lunch. After lunch, I ended up with the pole saw, and I spent the afternoon cutting down high limbs. The trail is cleared for stock, so it had to have ten feet of clearance overhead. I had a lot of fun with that, and I even got someone to take a picture of me using it. 

We got back to the trail head just before the sky opened up, and back at the campsite I was focused on getting to the bathroom and staying as dry as possible. This means I didn't bother to check on my tent until the rain had pretty much stopped and I wanted to change shoes. 

I was dismayed to discover that one of my stakes had popped out of the ground, allowing the rain to flow freely inside. I was pretty close to just calling it a day and going home, but as luck would have it, I had pitched my tent on uneven ground, and the water was all on one side. Nothing inside was too wet. My quilt was hardly wet at all. So I went to the car and got all my towels and mopped it up, cursing and grumbling the whole time. Then I got my shoes on and went back over to the potluck dinner where no one asked me why I'd been gone, so I didn't even end up telling anyone about my troubles. 

My husband cautioned me about the potluck, because in his experience backpacking potlucks did not typically end well. But this was a group of women. We know how to feed each other. There was, if anything, way too much food, including some chocolate humus that I wish I could have tried (no beans for me right now though). I ate, I enjoyed myself talking with people, and I turned in early again, because I needed to get up early and go. 

I had a harder time falling asleep that night. I was missing Ambrose, and a bit leery about the rain coming back. But I fell asleep and got up in the night to pee and looked at the stars, because I didn't use my headlamp so they were brilliant. And then I woke up on time and headed home. I will definitely be doing that again. 

Closer to a creek than I'd normally pitch. 

Ambrose's new pillow was pretty comfy.

A little sunset paint for the sky.

Trail head!

Pretty nice views from the trail.

And the sky was so blue.

High, fast water.

I helped make this waterbar!

And got dirt shoveled in my face - by accident.

Here there was a hole, but the hole is no more.

Fluffy clouds with a hint of possible rain.

Flowers were in bloom.

Fungus too.

Too early to eat these fiddle ferns.

Me working the pole saw. 

Butterflies love sweat.

More raging waters - from the safety of a bridge.

I managed to catch an insect in flight along with those storm clouds.