I'd like to be as short as possible, since these days the attention span is measured in less than 5 sentences, but how can you be, when it's an 8 year thing, and I feel it deserves some justice? It all started when I was hit with some kind of fatigue (OTS sort of thing) at the end of 2013. Not being able to run and race, I turned to the thing I love to do - backpacking - to spend time in the mountains. Turned out, my "normal" is 30 mile days for 7-14 days, while cooking and doing the things every through hiker does. In 2018 I made my first CT trip, and just prior, learned about FKT's - and that there isn't one for the CT for a female in self-supported style (which is what I do, carry all, go alone, occasionally resupply). So, after completing it in 15 days and some hours (and getting my trail name Cat Magnet), I submitted the result, and it was accepted. Only, I was wondering, if I could do better - you know, I cooked every morning and night, I stopped way before sunset (sometimes as early as 6 pm), and I even knitted, plus my pack weighed 45 lbs! Just by adding 2-3 hrs extra walking, and not cooking, and not resupplying (I only stopped at 2 stores on the way), and now having learned about much lighter gear (packs, tents, etc) - the thought persisted. I tried my hand (foot?) at the Collegiate Loop (165M inside the CT), and got the first unsupported record in 2020. I figured, it's time to give it a shot. Only, miraculously, I returned to my first love for the self-expression: running and racing. And with my job, albeit part time, involving other people's schedule, once I schedule a time away, it can't be moved. That's an introduction.
In 2021 I started from Durango, went 3 full days and a change, and couln't breathe. Some sort of asthma, or whatever. I bailed. In retrospect, this one was the dumbest DNF of all, but it's because I have high standards for myself, and high expectations. In 2022 (because I have to wait a full year to schedule my time off), I went the same way, broke my pole on day 1, got hit with a severe snow storm in high country of San Juan, and while fighting it (there's nowhere to set up th tent the hole day) with 1 pole, threw my back. I bailed the next morning. 2023 was my knee surgery. I returned in 2024, and hit it in the midst of monsoon (remember, I can't move days due to work, and I can't predict the weather 2 month in advance). I battled feet problems from day 1 (not kidding), blisters piling up atop blisters, with moisture and walking 40 miles a day with 35 lb pack, which began getting infected, spitting puss from everywhere, and those things on the bottom of your feet - well, you can't step down on your feet. I was determined, though, as the weather improved by day 4, and I gave it so much time by now. Eventually, the added trench foot condition was the final draw. I made it through 7 days. Couldn't walk for 2 weeks after. Well, 2025 came, and Larry and I discussed what if I start from Denver, the "easier" end. I did. Only I got sick 3 days prior with some cold. Hoping it'll go away (I don't get sick), I started anyway. The exertion piled up, my health deteriourated quickly, I was running a fever, hacking phlegm, and couldn't breathe. You guessed it, I bailed on day 4.
That was supposed to be the end. I did a Rainbow trail FKT just to scratch the itch (much shorter), and called it. Only, reminiscing around Christmas with Larry about the year and mentioning I'm a little sad that I'll never know "if I could", he suddenly said: " You should do it supported". That lit the spark. It shouldn't have, as I never like to ask for help, involve other people, and all this stuff (reason number whatever I don't do pacers and crew in ultras). Since Larry could only come bring me food every coule of days, not the full blown "meet me at every road intersection, carry tiny pack, have pacers, night sleep set up, and so on", it felt like a waste of "supported style" and going after a faster time. After months of thinking, I said I'll go unsupported, again. Because, the purity of "can I do better" laid in it all, not in doing the distance.
2026 came. The schedule had a tight squeezed fit, and 4 days after finishing a hard 66 mile race, I started. According to my Strava data, I did so much better than last year. I won't describe the daily highs and lows, as it's not what matters. I know I was determined, no matter what: I even had a " switch the style or the option" as an alternative if things go wrong, and still go on. Only...as I was mostly though day 4 (having passed the bail-out point of last year with an internal high-five), and coming to the top of the hill at mile 32, I was stopped by 2 through-hikers sitting down. Now, I'm an introvert to begin with, and when I go for miles/time effort, I barely say hello. But, they really persisted to talk. The showed me the app "Watch duty" for the fires, and said they just got notified everything going southbound (the direction I was moving) is closed. The fire boundary is, literally, 5-10 miles down, and the next trailhead that I was to pass in 2 miles, was closed. Everybody gets emergency evacuation. The fire sparked a couple of hours ago, and grew from 10 acres to a1000 that quickly. I didn't quite believe them, called Larry. A few minutes later he found the info. I decided to go down anyway (where else would I go?) and see if the entry to the next trail section was truly closed. As I came down, literally within 100 yards, a SAR truck pulls in, a woman jumps out, sees me, runs up, saying I must stop, it's basically like a police arrest order, and they are taking me to Leadville. My initial reaction was: what the fuck?!?!? Noq, give me some grace, I am sleep deprived, exhausted from 40+ mile days, under fueled and dehydrated, heat exerted, and I spent 5 (!!!) years going for it. I am 56. I can't do it, neither to myself, no to Larry, who hasn't seen a real vacation in all those years. This try was for US, as a family. His support and patience and encouragement, despite hating what it did to me physically and emotionally, was above and beyond anything a partner could have asked for. It was OUR try at this FKT. And, it was shot with a gun. Who's that idiot starting a campfire in stage 2 restriction? Why? And then, settling down while sitting in the truck and listening to these amazing SAR folks, and learning details, it hit me: I could have been dead. If those 2 folks didn't stop me, if they didn't have an app (which they actually used, and I don't even do apps), if I didn't spend 10 minutes talking with them, while still been uncertain about what to do, I would have come down BEFORE the SAR truck pulled in (it was truly a "developing situation"), walked across to the next trailhead, and began climbing to my spot for the night - which was EXACTLY where the fire edge was! I mean, I am not kidding! There MIGHT be people who are ACTUALLY in the zone, hikers, without any idea, inside this fast spreading death! The next hour I spent crying that I was so close to be gone, FKT be damned. It's bad enough what I do to my body, to Larry's emotional state while sitting at home watching "the dot" move, it could have all been gone in a flash - quite literally.
Larry, of course, came to my rescue, getting me from Leadville shelter where I was officially evacuated to. I am still shaken to the core and processing a lot about this event, my "I must know if I can do better than my first try", and life in general.
And this, my friends, where I leave you, to make it as short as possible.
1 comment:
You got this once this clears up. Be greatful.
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