Lassen: Appreciating the Cinder Cone

After a full twelve hours of sound sleeping, Matt awoke, surprised that much time had passed. Only the smell of breakfast lured me from the tent. The second day of a backpacking trip is always the worst for me, no matter how many more days are ahead. After that second day, my legs resign themselves to the discomfort. It's as if they simply stop trying to fight it.

Soon we were back on the trail through yet another burn area. This area was pretty much destroyed in a wildfire just last year and little new vegetation grew. Small lupine plants were among the only living ground cover. Lupine always reminds me of spring. It's one of the first to bloom each year and I love it because it's purple.

Suddenly the landscape changed from destroyed forest to treeless sand. The ground pumice stones made for slow going, but my eyes were fixed on the towering volcano, Cinder Cone, before me. As one of the park's most popular attractions, traffic on the trail picked up as day hikers flowed in. 

Climbing Cinder Cone with a fully loaded pack, strong unrelenting wind, and extremely loose footing was a challenge. Every few minutes, I paused to take in the view. Painted Dunes and Fantastic Lava Beds spread out along the horizon.

In addition the dunes and lava beds is Snag Lake, where we'd be spending the night.

Matt was most taken by the lava beds, which looked like piles of dark gravel that spread out into and creating islands in a nearby lake. My favorite part were the dunes. A gradient of color spread through their gently rolling hills. I didn't mind stopping every couple minutes to check out an ever expanding view of the horizon.

Group selfie with Mt Lassen.

When we finally reached the top, we dropped our packs and took a weightless jog to the bottom of the crater. As I made my descent, I skiied through the loose stones and sand. This is officially the third volcanic crater I've been inside. Even though it was perfectly safe, it wasn't without an eerie, menacing quality. This volcano last blew around 1850. The land still hasn't fully recovered. Amazing to think about really.

Matt and I made all the hungry noontime day hikers jealous when we set up just below the crater rim for lunch. I took the opportunity to people watch. National parks, while crowded, are great to observe people that don't normally do much hiking. I feel like sometimes nature becomes a little bit too normal and comfortable and I don't appreciate it as fully as I could. Seeing it through the eyes of others helps me do just that.

We watched young children ski down the loose gravel and run to the bottom of the crater. Others walked along the rim. A couple of young boys shouted out, "How the heck is this so darn cool?!" Kids are always the best for getting honest answers. I don't know buddy, but it is pretty darn cool.

Okay, maybe we're still kids too. Here's Matt jumping over Mt. Lassen.

The scenery abruptly changed back to forest. As we approached a campground, I wished out loud for an ice cream stand. If there's a camp store, we're stopping for something cold. Instead we found really stinky outhouses. I wanted my wilderness with a side of ice cream. Boo. What made up for it was the next few miles of hiking on the shore of Butte Lake. We popped a grape flavored Nuun tab into water and it satisfied my cold/sweet craving. It really isn't grape. It tastes like purple, a little bit on the disgusting side, but when you've spent the last few meals eating dehydrated food, the bar is suddenly set much lower. So yay, purple!

Butte Lake

The forest grew thicker and more lush and the mosquitoes came out in great swarms. I stopped to take a picture of the lush forest understory and was immediately ambushed. Please take an extra moment to enjoy this photo, because I got at least ten bites just to show you how pretty it is:

Not a minute after Matt and I were discussing how great a bear habitat this would be, we saw a great brown flash streak past the setting sun. It was a huge black bear, but we were glad that if it was running, we agreed it was best that it was running away.  From there to our campsite, we followed the same series of muddy bear prints, some of which were alarmingly large.

We arrived at the shore of Snag Lake not a moment too soon. My feet had enough. They had been screaming for at least the last two hours. Into the lake we went. If I could soak my feet every night in a cool lake or stream, I would want to backpack forever. My boots are great at keeping the sand and dust out (this was the messiest trip ever, I was so dirty by the end of it), but the soles aren't flexible enough to keep my feet happy.

That night, Matt and I, once again enjoyed a lakeside campsite. I could get used to this kind of backpacking! It was so easy!!!

Celebrating at Lassen

From the moment we traded vows, we became an independent family unit. Even though we were married in my hometown surrounded by our closest family and friends, every major holiday since then has been spent away from them. Even though holidays and special events don't get much easier, we've built coping mechanisms and new traditions all our own.  Much like our Christmas tradition of hiking or trail running, our anniversary has become another activity-centric holiday.  Add in the serene (and warm!!) lakes of Lassen Volcanic National Park and you've got the perfect outdoorsy anniversary trip.

Ripped straight from the end of a string of midnight shifts, Matt dozed as I pointed our car to the mountains. Without having officially added it to our itinerary, Matt announced where our first stop must be. "Wake me when we get to Dairy Queen," he mumbled as he drifted off to sleep. Dairy Queen stops are no longer discussed, they're implied. I've got him trained good, don't I?

This was our first official visit to Lassen. This park is mostly divided into two main areas with backpacking loops most easily accessed in the northern part of the park. We concentrated our efforts there, promising we would properly visit the remaining areas on a later trip, we even bought the year pass to ensure we held true to that promise. Besides, this is where the good snow hides in the winter. *droooool*  For anyone that is familiar with the park, here's our route. My Garmin track lasted for 2.5 days until the battery died:

On her inaugural adventure, my brand new backpack joined us for the fun. After stuffing myself with pizza after the marathon in Ventura, I stumbled my way into a fabulous Memorial Day sale Real Cheap Sports was having. Retail therapy always feels good. And with a new pretty (and purple!!!!) pack, it would be the gift that keeps on giving. By the end of the second day of this trip, Matt noticed that I was complaining about my hiking boots and sore legs. "That means your pack probably fits pretty well." It wasn't until we returned home that my body would tighten up and ache miserably. I'm sure this just means I should never take the pack off.

One of the many burn areas we visited

Climbing a small, yet steady ridge, Matt and I took turns moaning. He had only the nap in the car and I barely had three hours of sleep before we got here. That's not enough for either of us. We took turns being the whiner and being the one that made fun of the other for whining. Marriage is about give and take, friends.

Echo Lake

Upper Twin Lake

Picturesque lakes arrived with surprising frequency. I snapped a photo of each of them as we meandered along their shores. None was as beautiful as the calm, reflective lake that we had randomly chosen when applying for our camping permit.

Sitting on the shore of Rainbow Lake, her mirroring the reflection of upside down trees, chowing down on my macaroni and cheese with my honey by my side, my heart breathed a content sigh. We spent the evening cuddled up in the sand and chatted until the sun went down. It was perfect.

Matt made me a mossy heart.

What a lovely start to our anniversary weekend!

Catnip Fairy Run

When Matt mentioned that our garden catnip plant was taking over the area where our precious baby carrots were growing, he insisted we hack the plant back. Instead of letting the catnip go to waste, we took it on a run to share with the 5 mile route kitties.

This is about half of one of two plants we have in our garden.

We debated which method of dispersal would be the most effective: sprinkling leaves all over the place or strategically placing entire branches, like mini cat traps. After a few tries of scattering the leaves overhead and seeing them blow into the street, we decided on the latter method. The first one might result in catnip kitties in the middle of the street, and we didn’t want to be responsible for any injuries.

We baited our traps in front of houses where we have regular sightings. A few cats waited until we left to check out the catnip. One very brave kitty that we call Kitten nervously took the bait:

Matt, ever the scientist he is, asked if our baiting might skew the results for our kitty/mi count. We agreed that since we didn’t carry catnip regularly, it was unlikely this would affect our results.

5 miles, 42:22, a brisk 8:28/mi considering I did a lot of prancing around sprinkling my catnip fairy dust on everyone’s doorstep.

Yes, I’m becoming the crazy cat lady. That’s fine.

Dow's Prairie 6.1 Mile Race Report

Yawning is contagious. That's a fact. It's a subconscious science-y voodoo form of bonding and empathy. But is sleepiness contagious too? If so, that would explain a lot about Saturday's run. Matt came home at 7AM on Saturday morning, grabbed a quick power nap, and got up for the race. While I drove there, I had trouble staying awake. I almost had to pull over for a quick catnap myself. We arrived to Clam Beach early enough for Matt to volunteer. I grabbed my bib number and retreated to the car for a little snooze. Twenty minutes before the race, Matt tapped on the window. He had secretly dressed with his running clothes under his jeans and sweatshirt in case they had enough help. He was going to race.

We started out on our warmup jog to the bathroom without a line, nearly a mile away. If you're already doing the math in your head, you know that 2 miles of running in 20 minutes plus a bathroom stop isn't quite enough to make it back on time. As we approached the start area, it was still a few minutes before the 10AM start, but all the runners were positioned in the road. Shit.

You can see Matt (red hat on the left) looking over wondering if he should stop to help me. I'm glad he didn't.

The race started (two minutes early) while I was pinning my bib number to my shirt. Harry and Yoon came up to me after the crowd had cleared and teased, "It's very nice of you to give everyone a handicap today." Thanks boys. For a moment, I considered skipping the race and napping in the car until Matt finished. If my Garmin had taken just a more seconds longer to find satellite, I'm pretty sure I would have done just that. I tugged on my gloves as I fumbled across the starting line almost ninety seconds behind everyone else.

See me off to the left in the purple shirt and next to the red car? Totally don't have my business together yet.

I spent the first mile being angry at myself. We arrived almost an hour before start time and I couldn't be ready? The fun thing about running angry is that fast feels effortless. Wheee! Zoom!! Off I went passing the rapidly thinning pack of runners.

Mile 1: 7:44

A mile in, we hit the biggest hill on the course, a mean 200 ft. climb in a quarter mile. From what I could tell, I was mixed in with the 10 min/mi crowd. Most of them were walking. My anger had worn off and replaced by fatigue. Oops. Walking sounded like a good idea, so I did too. When they started passing me and my walking pace, my ego took over and I forced myself to run. Okay, maybe that anger wasn't gone yet.

The race course climbs on the coastal bluffs where there are cows cheering us on.

Mile 2: 8:27
Mile 3: 7:51

On another steep uphill near mile 3, I recognized someone's backside. In races, one never knows what the front of someone looks like right? Was that Bob?! No, it couldn't be. How could I have caught up to him? This reignited my competitive spirit.

When the course made its eventual descent back to the beach beginning at mile 4, I was relieved. Bob began passing the nearby runners. As if he were towing me along on an invisible rope, I followed and passed a few people myself.

Mile 4: 8:27
Mile 5: 7:27
Mile 6-6.1: 7:36 (7:15/mi)

Soon we were back on the beach road and a straight and flat approach to the finish line, it was just the two of us. Nobody was left to pass and the unchanging scenery felt like I was running in place. The finish line never comes soon enough on this stretch. When I crested a nearly imperceptible hill, I saw the finish clock. I have never wanted a finish line as badly as I did today! With all the energy I had left, I imagined myself running 800m repeats on the track. Quick feet, quick feet, zoom! Then I was done, thank the heavens. Now where's my nap?

47:37
7:48/mi.
400 ft. gain
Somehow I managed to nab 3rd woman and 1st in my age group.

I'm pretty sure that Matt isn't human. He's more like a machine. He whirrs a little, shuts down, and is reset and rested within an hour. That would explain how this guy manages to PR every time he runs a race during a stretch of midnight shifts.

37:12
6:05/mi.

All photos included in this post are Y.Kim, SRRC photo credit.

Course Sweep Long Run

On the short drive from the campground to the Grasshopper Trailhead, Matt and I speculated whether anyone would join us to sweep the course of the fluorescent tree flags. Throughout the afternoon on race day, I mentioned to several runners that they could run the 30K course for free on Sunday at 9AM. Some friends said no, others maybe. I told Matt that if Lanore could walk come Sunday morning, she'd be there. He bet me a long backrub that we'd be alone for the day. When we pulled into the parking area and I saw Lanore in her bright pink running jacket, I danced a little happy dance in my seat. An extra running buddy AND a back rub, this must be my lucky day!!

Most of our day was more a brisk hike than a run, but that's what nine miles of uphill will do to you when it's your second time in a single weekend. We made a game of collecting the neon green flags hanging from the trees. The person with the most flags wins. By the end of the run, it felt like I was running with a shimmering cape.

After a couple of miles, we discovered that Lanore's keys were missing. Matt volunteered to go back and look for them and meet us around the other side of the loop. It worked well that he could grab flags on the smaller loop the short race follows, too. I'm not sure who got the easier run for the day, our trip was longer but Matt's was a whole lot steeper.

After a brief glimpse of the mountains to the north, great panoramic views framed by fields of wildflowers spread out through our field of vision. Even though I'd seen all these views just two days before, I still marveled at their beauty. It is so peaceful up here. Meanwhile, Lanore mentioned that she hadn't noticed any of it yesterday during the race. Good thing she came back for round two!

We climbed a series of ridge lines as we chatted about upcoming summer plans. Lanore talked about getting into cycling and plans to visit her grand kids in southern California. I mentioned that I was going to try backpacking solo this summer. In our local area, it isn't the wildlife that you have to be worried about, but the humans hiding in the woods. Her concern was understandable. She offered to backpacking with me so I wouldn't have to go alone. I might just take her up on that.

Rounding the next corner and facing into the rising sun, I spotted a moving object off in the trees. Since this bear was far enough off the trail, the first thing I did was reach for my camera. No way I was going to miss another sighting!! Lanore, slightly frightened, teased, "Here's a picture of Karen just before she was mauled." Pepper spray in one hand and a large stick in the other, we watched the bear cautiously for a few moments. Just as I had on Friday, I began talking to the bear, now thanking him for staying off the trail yesterday during the race.

We watched quietly as the bear stuck moved off his hillside and onto the trail. He dug around in the dirt looking for food, nonplussed with our presence. I called out again. He stuck his nose in the air, sniffed us, and went back to his lunch. After a few minutes, he finally wandered far enough off the trail to let us pass.

Matt and I have yet to encounter a Lower 48 bear together. He's seen them on trail runs with Danny. I've seen them solo and on this run. Neither of us has come up with proof, so we always say the other was lying when retelling our bear stories. Now I had proof! I couldn't wait to show him! (Lanore's husband was a little quiet when we showed him the pictures, too.) Just call me the Bear Whisperer.

In the burn area near the top of Grasshopper, we spotted Matt. We decided that since we were already running 18.6 miles for the day, what was a little bit more? Climbing up to the summit and the fire lookout tower, Matt and Lanore began to lag behind. "Is it just me or is this the steepest part?" they asked. "It's not far, we're almost there!" I replied. I could already see the lookout tower and convinced them that a snack break at the top was waiting for them.

As I've probably said on all my visits to the Grasshopper Peak summit, I would love to set up my tent and camp here all summer long. Panoramic views spread out to the horizon. On a clear day, one can see Mt. Shasta, some 200 miles east. Today's light haze still offered rewarding views in all directions. A cool ocean breeze blew and cooled us off enough that we tucked behind the lookout tower for shelter.

Trail markers make the best hats.

The trip down the mountain didn't hurt as much as Friday's run, but it was close. Both Matt and Lanore told of their experiences during this part of the race. They both agreed that most of the soreness they had today was from this steep downhill section alone. It chews up your quads really well even if you're being careful.

Flag cape!

When we rejoined the singletrack trail of Johnson Camp, I convinced them we should run a bit. We trotted along slowly, enjoying the gentle downhill trail. By now, about 18 miles into our day, the fatigue was wearing on me. I probably felt how they did at mile 1 this morning, so I tried not to whine much. Neither of them complained the whole run. My friends are tough.

20 miles, 6 hrs.
1 bear sighting
M&M stained hands
1 summit
a whole lot of fun
and one really great back rub once we got home

A View From the Other Side: Grasshopper Peak Redwoods Run

Despite the luxurious nature of car camping, I spent most of the night tossing and turning in our corner of the Albee Creek Campground. It was one of those mornings where you wake up wondering if you slept at all because you have such vivid and frequent memories of not sleeping. My first fully caffeinated coffee in months did little to counteract the sleepiness.

The sleepy grove of trees at the base of Grasshopper trail suddenly transformed as my small army of volunteers went to work. As race director, I made it my job to not have a specific job other than starting the race. The idea was that if someone needed help somewhere, I could be that person. Everything went smoothly. People showed up with their required water containers and soon they were off.

Y.Kim, SRRC photo credit.

Once again the little grove of Redwood trees became quiet. A few spectators huddled in blankets reading books at the base of a giant tree. Soon the runners would return, but for now, the forest was serene.

The registration table transformed into the aid table and we set up the finish line. Even though I now consider myself a local, I was still impressed: that is one hell of a finish line. Runners told me later that they could see the finish clock between the trees about half a mile from the finish line.

The first few runners filtered in with perfect form and determined looks on their faces. They looked like the first four miles, almost all steep uphill, had been easy. What impressed me most was the variety of people this race compiled. Our youngest finisher of the day (10.5 mi race) was Tanya's son Connor, still 15 years old.

Y. Kim, SRRC photo credit.

The oldest was John, 88 years old (also 10.5 mi race). He's a club regular and finishes all sixteen club races (minus the ultra) each year. A few years ago, they had to add another age division (M85-89) because nobody had completed the club's competitive circuit in that age group before. I want to be doing this kind of stuff when I'm his age, don't you?

Y.Kim, SRRC photo credit.

Runners traveled from near and far too! Bob, the racing buddy I sometimes mention, lives nearby and runs his weekly long run on the roads through this park.

Y. Kim, SRRC photo credit.

The racer that traveled the furthest was named David and he was visiting from Belgium!! Can you believe that? I still can't!

Y. Kim, SRRC photo credit.

Soon a steady stream of runners filtered in. As I dashed around checking on the finish line, food, and aid personnel, I was constantly stopped by club friends that had finished the 10.5 miler. They loved my race! Many of them were new to trail running and nearly half of the race finishers crossed the line with bloody knees or shirts covered in dirt. A few helpful volunteer firemen came to their aid and patched them up. One runner had a gash so deep that she had to go to the ER for stitches on her way home. It could have been the delirium from blood loss, but even she left with a smile on her face.

It was interesting to note the difference in remarks from the 10.5 miler and 30K runners. Through Lanore's scowl as she crossed the finish line, she gasped, "Karen, you're cruel!!" Many others said that even though the course was breathtaking, it was really, really hard. Yeah, guys, I know. :) It made a few of them feel better to know that I ran the 30K course both Friday and Sunday to add/remove markers. At least we shared that pain, right?

10.5 Mile elevation chart. Mile 3 gains almost 1,000 ft. by itself.

30K elevation chart. Miles 10-12 were the worst here, very steep with loose gravel.

My favorite comment of the day was from my running buddy, Nikki. This run was her longest distance run ever. As she crossed the finish line, all she said was, "I'm going to go home and buy a pie....then eat the whole thing at once." I couldn't imagine having my first 18 mile run be this hilly.

That afternoon, we packed up supplies and headed back to the campground for the night. I had been so busy the whole afternoon that I didn't realize how hungry I was until I took a short rest in the tent. Using my best pouting face, I convinced Matt to serve dinner right to my sleeping bag. It was the best.

Perfect ending to one of my favorite days ever!! :)