Happy trails

It was a cold and dreary morning, that early wintry day in February. Our training run had taken us on a Detroit City tour, with a post-run community activity at the local soup kitchen in the basement of Saint Leo’s church. Bundled up in several layers of running gear, the nine of us had started out on our eight mile loop at 7:30 in the morning, and it was here on this gray and blustery Monday morning that the idea of doing an ultra marathon came about. A 50K trail run on the occasion of Kai’s fiftieth birthday had been planned for early spring, and after the Blue Planet run last year it seemed an appropriate challenge for the new year.

With a few trail training runs under my belt, but not nearly enough to be fully prepared for this fifty-kilometer distance classic, peppered with some sixty-five hundred feet of exaltations, the five of us boarded the plane to San Francisco. The flight had been delayed for forty-five minutes due to a fuel leak, but at long last was given the “go ahead.” Barely in our seats, we were ushered off the plane again as the mechanical problem reared its ugly head once more and caused the plane to be taken out of circulation. Two hours after the original flight departure time, we jetted into the moonlit sky. Upon our midnight arrival, we split up for the night, and within minutes of stepping outside the arrival terminal, my shuttle service drove up to the curbside to chauffeur me to his home to spend the night. 

By the time I rolled out of bed at my Uncle Mel’s homestead, the sun had already burned off the morning fog. The panoramic lookout from the backyard boasted a magnificent view of the bay area, with the airport showcased center stage. Out in the distance, a string of planes were lined up in the sky for a final approach, and soon thereafter, one-by-one, touched down for a perfect landing, each time setting off a plume of smoke where the rubber met the tarmac. A spotter’s paradise to say the least! But there was no more time to watch the comings and goings of these shiny birds in flight, as the main event was early Sunday morning, some ninety miles south in the Big Basin Redwood National Park.

 
1. Golden gate 2. Daughter Malka, cousin Judy 

Shortly before noon, we turned the corner for a leisurely drive to our base camp at Boulder Creek. The ride took us alongside the infamous San Andreas Fault by way of acres of vineyards and a long-lost hippy town leftover from the seventies. As we inched closer to our final destination, the trees became taller and wider, lining both sides of the winding road, ultimately leading us to the park entrance. After a short walkabout through the redwoods we ventured back out to rendezvous with the rest of the team at Scopazzi’s, a stylish and cozy Italian restaurant near the golf creek villas, -- our hangout for the night. We turned in by 11:00, and I finally dozed off after sufficiently having muffled my ears from the tumultuous surround sound of dozens of croaking bullfrogs in the pond directly outside of my window.  

 
1. Dress rehearsal Pontiac trails 2. Kai, Karin, Jean, Lori

As it turned out, the 50K trail run in the Big Basin* Redwoods was a challenging and strenuous endeavor, however beautiful, serene, and very peaceful. Some of the ascends along the way were so steep that I had to push my quads to keep in motion. On the other hand, the descends were a RUSH!!!! It was a running affair extraordinaire, jumping over rocks, roots, branches and smaller potholes on a sometimes narrow undulating meandering trail, carpeted with a soft, decaying organic matter. At times, from up high, I could see the glistening of a narrow stream flowing gently down below. If this is what heaven is like, sign me up! Of course that was my exalted state of mind for the first 25K as we avidly storm-trooped into the forest shortly after 8:30 in the morning! The second time around, three and a half hours later, the engine was shifted into a lower gear, sputtering during moments of steep inclinations, almost forging anaerobic conditioning. 

While by mid morning, the weather was a balmy eighty degrees, down under the canopy, these towering gentle giants sufficiently shadowed the forest floor, keeping it to an ambient and comfortable temperature. The odoriferous smell of the majestic redwoods and the smoky scent emitted by the charcoaled tree trunks and stumps from a recent fire were, in a way, refreshing and invigorating, and the fizzle and sizzle of the rushing water spilling over the edge into the emerald colored stream down below made for some picture perfect moments!
 
In the open, where the light managed to come through, the underbrush was alive with fresh green leaves, and three leaf clovers perked up into the sky, flaunting their delicate bell shaped flowers. An abundance of ferns flourished along the creek and around the falls, and tanoaks and stands of madrone provided enough shade to keep them out of the direct sunlight. On the backside of the 9K loop, after the seemingly never ending uphill, the trail changed its geography to a chaparral-type environment, exposing the trailblazers to the bright and burning sun. The shrubbery was in full bloom, painting the hillsides in a soft, indigo haze, making it a perfect habitat for bumblebees, honeybees and a variety of stinging wasps to forage. Perhaps it was yonder in the forest where they nested and where, in a previous year, some runners were attacked by a swarm of aggravated hornets!
 
After the first rounds of 17K and 9K loops, the runners were sufficiently dispersed that it became a solo run for me, with an occasional encounter of Japanese hikers clearing the way on approach. They applauded as I went by, and wished me a friendly, “Good luck!” I wanted to stop and tell them what Paul Tergat told me once: “Luck is not what we runners need! We have trained too hard for this. Only success is what matters!!” But then again, I hadn’t trained so hard for this event and thus carried on without making a fuzz.
 
The wildlife was limited to banana slugs, blue jays and squirrels, although black-tailed deer, bobcats and coyotes were also listed to exist in this habitat. The crows were cawing away in the eerie forest, perhaps hoping for a dehydrated or injured runner to fall off the trails. By now, with the weather having sufficiently heated up and the intensity of the workout requiring more hydration, I had run low on Gatorade and was getting nauseous carb-loading on my margarita-flavored shot blocks! It would be at least another thirty minutes before reaching the Gazos Creek Picnic area for a chance to re-hydrate and take in some insipid salt capsules.
 
As thoughts of feathered vultures evaporated into the mid-day air, the Big Basin wilderness continued to be full of adventure, when all of a sudden, in the still and dark and mighty forest, at less than a hundred feet away from me, I spotted a black bear unpretentiously hanging out near the trail. His shiny black fur and chestnut brown fuzzy ears were not as cute now in the open as when watched from behind bars in a zoo! I looked back and ahead, but there was not a soul in sight. While slowly and softly tiptoeing forward, my head was spinning on what to do next. And then, just like magic, this life-limiting forest hazard transformed into a burned out tree trunk! Paranoia had come and gone, and now with some extra adrenaline, caused by my near-miss bear attack, I rushed up the hills!!

At the aid station, fully stocked with salty and sugary snacks, fresh fruits and boiled potatoes, Uncle Mel greeted me with an enthusiastic “There he is!” I refueled and refreshed, took in some tasty sweets, vivaciously shared my running experience in paradise with Coach Melvin and soon was back out on the trail following the yellow markers for the second and final repeat. All in all, it took seven hours and fifty three minutes to complete this challenging but scenic wilderness run, at times crawling under or climbing over fallen tree trunks. Although exhausting, it was at the same time exhilarating! It felt good to finally join the ranks of ultra marathoner, and crossing the finish line made it official. My goal was to finish under eight hours and so I did. After all that, it was time to power down the engine and replenish my battered physique with several servings of spicy chili and hot chicken soup.