A Long Run in the Evening Sun

Daylight is beginning to fade on the east side of the mountain. Tucked away deep in my pack is my headlamp, my main goal of the run is to keep it there. My legs are slow to respond and even the benign hills of the river trail leave my legs in a twisted mess of knots. Matt takes the lead. Then Lanore. I soon realize that I'm not the only one with tired legs. After several less strenuous long runs this season, we decided it was time for something harder. To us, that means one thing: Grasshopper Peak.

Then the climbing begins. Once we resign ourselves to the fact that we won't be running much for the next five miles and that the trek to the top will take us almost two hours, we're finally able to enjoy it. Soft afternoon light trickles down from the top of Grasshopper and gathers on the nearby trees. We giggle and smile and before we realize it, an hour has passed since we last asked "are we to the top yet?"

The punishing steepness of this third, and arguably the easiest, way to summit Grasshopper offers a lot of time to practice our power hiking skills. I focus on taking powerful, deliberate steps and find my hiking pace matches Lanore's low-gear uphill running pace.

After nearly three hours of climbing on what is supposed to be a "run", we spot the Grasshopper camp outhouse. Almost there!

We reach the summit just before 7PM and are treated to a view I've never seen before: evening atop my favorite mountain peak. This is my second summit of 2015 and the second time this month. Normally, it is about midday when I make it up here, now it looks so different I hardly recognize it. Coastal stratus makes its way through the valleys and pours over mountains on the coast. A haze of moisture clings to each mountaintop. The dry summer grasses on the hillsides glow a brilliant golden hue.

Smiling giddy smiles, we shoot a few selfies and I cozy up to my recliner chair rock while Lanore sends the photo to her husband. I drink in the views while I chomp on a fig bar.

Every time I visit, I dream about occupying the lookout tower for an entire summer. Matt and Lanore agree they'd crave more human interaction, but as long as I had a brief period in the morning to squeeze in a run, I think I'd enjoy the solitude.

The descent is swift and for the first time in hours, we're running again. We spot a few more of my race flags and speculate that we'll spend the remainder of the summer picking up the ones we missed on race weekend. Just about the time I pick them all up, it will be time to put them out again for next year's race. If they weren't so obvious and ugly, I might consider leaving them up year round.

We stop briefly to patch up a blister on Lanore's foot and we're immediately assaulted by swarms of mosquitoes. I march around in circles to keep them away, while she swats and groans tending to her foot. Matt resorts to waving his arms around in circles. This is the same as spot one of the race aid stations. No wonder they used the whole bottle of bug spray.

On the move once again and relieved to leave the mosquitoes behind, the trail begins to darken further. I try to snap a few more pictures, but the shutter speed is so long that they only blur. From here, all the photos will have to remain inside my head.

Back on the forest floor and with the giant trees in almost darkness, it's almost twenty miles into our day. I hit the point in the run where my mind and body disconnect. So numb from the fatigue, my mind holds no consideration for pace. My legs continue on and I almost forget that they're moving. It's a beautiful, peaceful place to be. I run relaxed and power on without noticing. It's here where my pace becomes incredibly steady, too.

Lanore and I jump onto the road to avoid falling on things we can't see on the trail. Bull Creek Road winds through the giant trees and it is every bit as beautiful as the trail Matt chose to take back to the car. It's so dark now that the trees are giant shadow figures. Except for a few passing cars headed toward the campground, the air is still and calm. Our footsteps slice through it in rhythm.

We arrive back at the car with twenty two miles. Matt arrived seconds before us and we waste no time diving into our bags of goodies. Lanore passes out chips while Matt and I share with her our bowl of cut watermelon and grapes. I prop myself up in the tailgate of our new adventure-mobile and let my dusty feet dangle off the bumper.

I love summertime adventures.

5:18:40
5,142 ft. gain