Fastpacking the Wonderland Trail. 9/9-9/11
Taking three days, and putting them into one concise write-up is difficult, especially when those three days feel like a week. What's worse, is when you try to not have it sound like a play by play. I'm trying my best, but my head still feels a bit off so stick with me.
Early this summer, I was invited on a few adventures. I couldn't make any of them due to work or prior commitments. One friend asked me if there was anything I was hoping to tick off the list. My answer: I want to run the Wonderland Trail. It is a trail 93 miles long with 22,000+ feet of gain which wraps around Mt Rainier. For whatever reason, my heart wanted to do it, and it was the only real thing I had on my list for this summer. Unfortunately this friend couldn't fit that trip into his summer, so I tucked the thought deeply away. It was silly anyway, wasn't it? That was until Nichole Sellon sent me a message. Would you want to run Wonderland with me? I instantly answered yes.
Nichole sent me a document of notes on the trail. I was relieved to read the first line: I'll start by saying that I'm not going to properly train for this. I'm not really the person who properly trains for running events in general. I'd either run a lot before a race because I wanted to, or I wouldn't because I didn't want to. Given, I was running a fair amount, but I had no idea what proper training would be for something like this. I've never run more than 60 miles at a time, and I've never run back to back long distances. Realistically, anything could happen.
I left work at 5:30 and started heading south. I stopped at Everybody's Store in Van Zandt for the best sandwich ever. Their sandwiches are big enough to feed three people. Perfect for someone heading out on an outdoor quest. I ate half of the glorious turkey/goat cheese/avocado/lettuce/tomato/sprouty goodness while driving, and saved the other half for breakfast. I pulled into White River Campground at 9:15, easily found Nichole's truck - blue Toyota with a silver - and parked next to her. Nichole woke up and we quickly got to divvying out items. I laid aside two bags of dehydrated food and held up my bag of bars, "this is all 6000 calories, so I think I'm ok. How many do you have?" She spilled out a TJs bag of bars, gels, oatmeal and snickers, "Umm...that many...?" I giggled cause I had super dorked on calorie totals. At this point, we had what we had and it would have to work out for two or three days. Wasn't like we could go to the store. We crawled into our vehicles to sleep. With my alarm set for 4am I laid there wondering, "is this really happening?" Without any idea of what was ahead of us, it felt like I was already dreaming as I lay there in my Element.
Day One
The hill climb that started promptly at 5am was an ass kicker. Driving in at night meant that I saw nothing of my surroundings, and my only concept of elevation gain/loss was a faint memory of the trail elevation profile. So up and away we went with Nichole setting a fabulous pace. Before we knew it, the sky was brightening and we could see where we were. This was the first time I let my guard down and admitted, "hey Nichole, this is actually happening!" I knew that if we failed, if something went wrong, there may not be another weather window that coincided with our schedules. This actually had to happen.
We ran down from one ridge and up another. We encountered goats, and felt a chilling breeze. We ran super fast, flowy downhills. The people we passed either asked us for piggy back rides or told us we were moving too quickly to see it all. "Two or three days!? You're going to miss so much." Regardless, we made good time, chit chatted about life, and got to know each other. Nichole and I have only hung out once, but we both knew we'd probably get along well and make a good outdoor pair. Luckily, we were correct. At times we'd randomly yell out, "we are missing it!" and laugh. We weren't missing anything. We ran past the Winthrop and Carbon Glaciers, with only slight glimpses possible through the fog.
At 17 miles, we turned up a trail to go to Spray Park. We'd been hearing of bears up there and Nichole has never seen a bear in the wild. Spray Park was longer with more gain, but it allowed better views, so we chose that route. I would like to say how humbled this trail made me. The climb was steep, especially after downhill running with 20ish pound packs. We grunted, sweated and slowed down. The trail brought us above the fog and in direct view of Rainier, confirming that our extra effort was worthwhile. Two ladies mentioned seeing the bears above us, and we looked everywhere but saw none. Descending from Spray Park, a family mentioned seeing bears below us. Again, we slowed down and looked, but they must have run off. What we did see were alpine meadows, beautiful forests, happy hikers, babbling brooks and the north side of Mt Rainier.
At Mowich, we ate lunch and calculated out mileage. I grunted as I saw the number: 26. I showed it to Nichole and she burst out, "we're not even above 30!?" Her dismay was palpable. Our first camp permit was for N Puyallup, only 16 miles away but with thousands of feet of gain. We contemplated the entire plan. A 42 mile day followed by a 50 mile day? Or we could stop at Indian Bar making day two 40ish miles and a day of 10 miles. I ate chocolate burritos and contemplated. The conclusion we arrived at was camping closer, at Golden Lakes, then a big day to Indian Bar, then out on day three. The rangers at Mowich loved our plan and were definitely jealous of our chocolate burritos. I would have shared if I didn't think they were so vital to my survival.
Our run to Golden went quickly enough. Down to a beautiful old growth forest, then up a few thousand feet. Just when we started getting tired, the berry bushes provided delicious treats. Golden Lakes area is lovely, and allowed us a quiet night of sleep. Orion was out for the first time that I'd noticed; a sign of the changing seasons. The only alternate clothing I brought were pants to sleep in. Aside from that I slept in my running shirts and socks - nasty, I know but I'd do anything to not carry unnecessary additional weight. We weren't glamping, after all. We looked at the map one last time. In my sleepy delirium I read the map... "Yeah, we will climb and then it looks like a lot of downhill....oh then more downhill." This commentary would be mocked endlessly for the next two days.
Day Two
The next morning came too soon. We luxuriously hit the snooze from 3am to 4am with the logic of: We're going to be arriving at camp in the dark anyway. At 4am, we popped up, promptly made breakfast and did everything necessary to leave. As expected, there was a short climb out of camp and we were both feeling pretty good. The air was crisp and wet, and the alpine meadows smelled tart like freshly picked blueberries. We stood still momentarily, headlamps off, breathing in the air and feeling incredibly lucky. The first descent was an hour of fast downhill running by headlamp...sporty, for sure...especially when Nichole would get away from me and all I could imagine was a mountain lion tackling me to the ground. We past N Puyallup camp and began climbing. I have a hard time admitting when to stop and put on layers, and by the time we arrived at Klapatche my hands were useless from the cold. We watched the sun rise for a second morning, saw campers making their coffee, and put on layers. A frost lay on the ground. Nichole was feeling a touch funky so I took the lead for a little while. I love running during a cold morning with a puffy on, and with Rainier on our left I couldn't be happier. Of course, the trail began to climb again. At one point Nichole mentioned my awesome map reading from the night before. "Shouldn't we be going downhill?" I giggled... uh yeah. My bad.
Basically, we had 11,000 ft of climbing behind us after day one. That would leave us with another 11-13,000 - depending on what our variations added up to - meaning that we, in fact, would not just be going downhill. My tired self can be pretty retarded. Every steep climb we encountered led to one of us sarcastically blurting out: "Oh yeah, it'll be all downhill!"
We made it through Emerald Ridge. If you go nowhere else ever, make sure you visit Emerald Ridge. Holy mackerel. Emerald green grass, glaciers, Rainier looking rather commanding, and huge waterfalls everywhere. This is what I came here to witness: sheer beauty. On the descent, we encountered an older man. After a few interactions with him, we exchanged names. His name was Gerd, and he and his wife had wanted to hike this trail since the 1960's. His age is questionable, but he claimed to have great nieces older than us. This stud of an old man was absolutely killing the Wonderland Trail, and meeting him made me realize how lucky we all were to be there. Gerd and his wife completing an item on their bucket list, "before we kick it," Gerd stated, and everyone else we had met along the way.
Longmire was just what we needed. We bought two sandwiches and two sodas, and ate them on a grassy lawn. We used this down time to stretch and dry out the damp tent. For this trip, we were using a 1 pound Big Agnes tent made of cuben fiber. A cool breeze was whipping through Longmire, and a warm sun shone down on us. Since cuben fiber is extremely light, the breeze picked up the tent fly and the wind began to blow it towards the road. Literally just then, a Kia Soul - tweaked out, techno listening hamster mobile if you've seen the commercial - drove by and ran the airborne tent fly over. I'm running towards the road, Nichole was screeching, and the driver was fairly certain he'd just killed a small human. "Is everyone ok," he asked? I said yes as I grabbed the tent off the road. Unfortunately, the tent fly had many small holes, but luckily we wouldn't need it this trip.
At Longmire, we realized how tired we were. Our legs felt heavy and our knees kind of ached...and, honestly, I had some serious butt chafing and Nichole had lower back chafing. Butt chafing ranks along with worst things ever, by the way. We found a closer available camp site at Maple Creek, and readjusted our itinerary.
We moved slowly and arrived at camp by 6:15. I'm fairly certain we were the only campers at Maple Creek and it kind of creeped me out. I envisioned a mountain lion getting me from behind while on the open air composting toilet. For a second night, I crawled into my Rab sleeping bag and felt like a swaddled baby.
Day Three
We awoke at 4am and I felt super rested. By 5am we had eaten, packed up our belongings, and were departing for the last day on the trail. After one 36 mile day and one 39 mile day, 18 didn't sound so horrible. We motored up past Nickle Creek and 2,000 feet up to the area above Indian Bar. I can't tell you how thrilled we were to not have done that climb the previous night in our delerious state of trail shuffling. It would have been ugly, and I guarantee I would have laid down and cried.
The trail during this day was, overall, the most beautiful section. We killed lots of time taking photos and commenting on the extremely breathtaking terrain. We could see glaciers above waterfalls, turquoise colored alpine lakes, Mt Adams and even Mt Hood were visible. Seriously, how lucky were we? Bright blue sky and not a drop of rain for three September days! Better yet, three days that we both managed to get off from work. Even better again, we found ourselves here, without any ailments and not one complaint the whole time from either of us. Absolutely stellar conditions in every aspect. I may have butt chafing, but I didn't even form a blister on my toes. That's something worth feeling lucky.
We made our way to Indian Bar. Seriously great location and I could see myself camping there some day, basking on the bouldery river bank like a marmot.
The terrain to Panhandle Gap from Indian Bar was mostly rolling. The climbs reminded our quads of the 80-some miles behind us, and the downhills caused some gimpy looking shuffling...but we continued on, taking photos, and giggling endlessly.
From Panhandle we began, what felt like, the endless downhill. We told stories, greeted hikers, and frolicked happily. I said it loudly, "Hey Nichole, this is actually happening!" Day hikers began appearing on the trail and we knew we were close. One man, definitely a frequent Rainier hiker, decided to inform us that we had a bit of a climb ahead...but promised us that, "you're nearly there!" This reminded us of races, when you're about 5-7 miles from a finish and a spectator tells you, "you're so close!" This proximity statement builds up my hope every time, only to have a dramatic downfall once I realize that my idea of "so close" and their idea of "so close" are terribly different. We heard the White River up ahead and began running. We weren't excited to be done, believe me the trail is one of my favorite places. We were very thrilled to accomplish our goal, and with relative ease.
We hit the river banks and my eyes began to tear up. I'll claim delusional exhaustion as my excuse, but for anyone who has finished something they questioned, you know what I'm talking about. My first 50K went like this - I realized I would finish and began crying 2 miles from the finish line. It is quite a mix to feel exhaustion and adrenaline at the same time. We found someone to take our photo, hit the bathrooms with indoor plumbing - thank sweet baby Jesus for indoor plumbing - and got right to eating real food and laying in the parking lot behind our cars. Jeez, what a crazy few days.
We didn't set out to break a record, we set out to see if we could do something we thought possible. We also wanted to see if our systems worked, and find potential ways to improve for a future adventure. Here is some data for you:
Time Breakdown by Day
Day One: 1 hr at cars, 11 hours run/walking, 1 hour lunch, 30 minutes water refills, 2.5 hours at camp, 8 hours of sleep.
Day Two: 1 hr morning camp, 11.5 hours run/walking, 1.5 hr lunch, 30 mins water refills, 1.5 hrs at camp, 8 hours of sleep.
Day Three: 1 hr morning camp, 7 hrs run/walk/photo extravaganza-ing, 15 mins water refill, 30 min break at Panhandle. Party at the cars!
Total time moving on trail (aka: not in camp or asleep) - 33.75 Hours
Total time sleeping: 16 Glorious Hours
Gear Used: (team equipment and my stuff, Nichole had some different items)
Big Agnes Fly Creek UL 2 person tent
RAB Neutrino sleeping bag
Thermarest Neo-air sleeping pad
Brooks Cascadias (we both had them, coincidentally)
Typical running clothes
Isis Nimbus insulator puffy
Patagonia Hoodini jacket
Marmot rain jacket (not used)
2 L water bladder
Jetboil with Sol cup
iPhone for photos
Headlamp
Map
Favorite running trucker hat
Dental floss for proper hygiene
Small first aid kit
Heaps of calories
Sunscreen
Salt tabs - I can't run distances without them
Early this summer, I was invited on a few adventures. I couldn't make any of them due to work or prior commitments. One friend asked me if there was anything I was hoping to tick off the list. My answer: I want to run the Wonderland Trail. It is a trail 93 miles long with 22,000+ feet of gain which wraps around Mt Rainier. For whatever reason, my heart wanted to do it, and it was the only real thing I had on my list for this summer. Unfortunately this friend couldn't fit that trip into his summer, so I tucked the thought deeply away. It was silly anyway, wasn't it? That was until Nichole Sellon sent me a message. Would you want to run Wonderland with me? I instantly answered yes.
Nichole sent me a document of notes on the trail. I was relieved to read the first line: I'll start by saying that I'm not going to properly train for this. I'm not really the person who properly trains for running events in general. I'd either run a lot before a race because I wanted to, or I wouldn't because I didn't want to. Given, I was running a fair amount, but I had no idea what proper training would be for something like this. I've never run more than 60 miles at a time, and I've never run back to back long distances. Realistically, anything could happen.
I left work at 5:30 and started heading south. I stopped at Everybody's Store in Van Zandt for the best sandwich ever. Their sandwiches are big enough to feed three people. Perfect for someone heading out on an outdoor quest. I ate half of the glorious turkey/goat cheese/avocado/lettuce/tomato/sprouty goodness while driving, and saved the other half for breakfast. I pulled into White River Campground at 9:15, easily found Nichole's truck - blue Toyota with a silver - and parked next to her. Nichole woke up and we quickly got to divvying out items. I laid aside two bags of dehydrated food and held up my bag of bars, "this is all 6000 calories, so I think I'm ok. How many do you have?" She spilled out a TJs bag of bars, gels, oatmeal and snickers, "Umm...that many...?" I giggled cause I had super dorked on calorie totals. At this point, we had what we had and it would have to work out for two or three days. Wasn't like we could go to the store. We crawled into our vehicles to sleep. With my alarm set for 4am I laid there wondering, "is this really happening?" Without any idea of what was ahead of us, it felt like I was already dreaming as I lay there in my Element.
Day One
The hill climb that started promptly at 5am was an ass kicker. Driving in at night meant that I saw nothing of my surroundings, and my only concept of elevation gain/loss was a faint memory of the trail elevation profile. So up and away we went with Nichole setting a fabulous pace. Before we knew it, the sky was brightening and we could see where we were. This was the first time I let my guard down and admitted, "hey Nichole, this is actually happening!" I knew that if we failed, if something went wrong, there may not be another weather window that coincided with our schedules. This actually had to happen.
Nichole running under the early morning clouds
We ran down from one ridge and up another. We encountered goats, and felt a chilling breeze. We ran super fast, flowy downhills. The people we passed either asked us for piggy back rides or told us we were moving too quickly to see it all. "Two or three days!? You're going to miss so much." Regardless, we made good time, chit chatted about life, and got to know each other. Nichole and I have only hung out once, but we both knew we'd probably get along well and make a good outdoor pair. Luckily, we were correct. At times we'd randomly yell out, "we are missing it!" and laugh. We weren't missing anything. We ran past the Winthrop and Carbon Glaciers, with only slight glimpses possible through the fog.
Goats!
Fast downhills
This reminds me of bridges in Nepal... bouncy
Gorgeous meadows
At 17 miles, we turned up a trail to go to Spray Park. We'd been hearing of bears up there and Nichole has never seen a bear in the wild. Spray Park was longer with more gain, but it allowed better views, so we chose that route. I would like to say how humbled this trail made me. The climb was steep, especially after downhill running with 20ish pound packs. We grunted, sweated and slowed down. The trail brought us above the fog and in direct view of Rainier, confirming that our extra effort was worthwhile. Two ladies mentioned seeing the bears above us, and we looked everywhere but saw none. Descending from Spray Park, a family mentioned seeing bears below us. Again, we slowed down and looked, but they must have run off. What we did see were alpine meadows, beautiful forests, happy hikers, babbling brooks and the north side of Mt Rainier.
Steep climbing
Mt. Rainier!
Lunch view at Mowich Lake
At Mowich, we ate lunch and calculated out mileage. I grunted as I saw the number: 26. I showed it to Nichole and she burst out, "we're not even above 30!?" Her dismay was palpable. Our first camp permit was for N Puyallup, only 16 miles away but with thousands of feet of gain. We contemplated the entire plan. A 42 mile day followed by a 50 mile day? Or we could stop at Indian Bar making day two 40ish miles and a day of 10 miles. I ate chocolate burritos and contemplated. The conclusion we arrived at was camping closer, at Golden Lakes, then a big day to Indian Bar, then out on day three. The rangers at Mowich loved our plan and were definitely jealous of our chocolate burritos. I would have shared if I didn't think they were so vital to my survival.
Gotta love the old growth
View from our camp at Golden Lakes
Our run to Golden went quickly enough. Down to a beautiful old growth forest, then up a few thousand feet. Just when we started getting tired, the berry bushes provided delicious treats. Golden Lakes area is lovely, and allowed us a quiet night of sleep. Orion was out for the first time that I'd noticed; a sign of the changing seasons. The only alternate clothing I brought were pants to sleep in. Aside from that I slept in my running shirts and socks - nasty, I know but I'd do anything to not carry unnecessary additional weight. We weren't glamping, after all. We looked at the map one last time. In my sleepy delirium I read the map... "Yeah, we will climb and then it looks like a lot of downhill....oh then more downhill." This commentary would be mocked endlessly for the next two days.
Day Two
The next morning came too soon. We luxuriously hit the snooze from 3am to 4am with the logic of: We're going to be arriving at camp in the dark anyway. At 4am, we popped up, promptly made breakfast and did everything necessary to leave. As expected, there was a short climb out of camp and we were both feeling pretty good. The air was crisp and wet, and the alpine meadows smelled tart like freshly picked blueberries. We stood still momentarily, headlamps off, breathing in the air and feeling incredibly lucky. The first descent was an hour of fast downhill running by headlamp...sporty, for sure...especially when Nichole would get away from me and all I could imagine was a mountain lion tackling me to the ground. We past N Puyallup camp and began climbing. I have a hard time admitting when to stop and put on layers, and by the time we arrived at Klapatche my hands were useless from the cold. We watched the sun rise for a second morning, saw campers making their coffee, and put on layers. A frost lay on the ground. Nichole was feeling a touch funky so I took the lead for a little while. I love running during a cold morning with a puffy on, and with Rainier on our left I couldn't be happier. Of course, the trail began to climb again. At one point Nichole mentioned my awesome map reading from the night before. "Shouldn't we be going downhill?" I giggled... uh yeah. My bad.
Waterfall at N Puyallup
Dawn colors
Frosty morning
View from Klapatche
Basically, we had 11,000 ft of climbing behind us after day one. That would leave us with another 11-13,000 - depending on what our variations added up to - meaning that we, in fact, would not just be going downhill. My tired self can be pretty retarded. Every steep climb we encountered led to one of us sarcastically blurting out: "Oh yeah, it'll be all downhill!"
Emerald ridge
Fun downhill
Feeling incredibly lucky
Indian Henry's Cabin
We made it through Emerald Ridge. If you go nowhere else ever, make sure you visit Emerald Ridge. Holy mackerel. Emerald green grass, glaciers, Rainier looking rather commanding, and huge waterfalls everywhere. This is what I came here to witness: sheer beauty. On the descent, we encountered an older man. After a few interactions with him, we exchanged names. His name was Gerd, and he and his wife had wanted to hike this trail since the 1960's. His age is questionable, but he claimed to have great nieces older than us. This stud of an old man was absolutely killing the Wonderland Trail, and meeting him made me realize how lucky we all were to be there. Gerd and his wife completing an item on their bucket list, "before we kick it," Gerd stated, and everyone else we had met along the way.
One person at a time
Longmire was just what we needed. We bought two sandwiches and two sodas, and ate them on a grassy lawn. We used this down time to stretch and dry out the damp tent. For this trip, we were using a 1 pound Big Agnes tent made of cuben fiber. A cool breeze was whipping through Longmire, and a warm sun shone down on us. Since cuben fiber is extremely light, the breeze picked up the tent fly and the wind began to blow it towards the road. Literally just then, a Kia Soul - tweaked out, techno listening hamster mobile if you've seen the commercial - drove by and ran the airborne tent fly over. I'm running towards the road, Nichole was screeching, and the driver was fairly certain he'd just killed a small human. "Is everyone ok," he asked? I said yes as I grabbed the tent off the road. Unfortunately, the tent fly had many small holes, but luckily we wouldn't need it this trip.
Amazing sandwich and roadkill tent
At Longmire, we realized how tired we were. Our legs felt heavy and our knees kind of ached...and, honestly, I had some serious butt chafing and Nichole had lower back chafing. Butt chafing ranks along with worst things ever, by the way. We found a closer available camp site at Maple Creek, and readjusted our itinerary.
Have I mentioned all the waterfalls?
We moved slowly and arrived at camp by 6:15. I'm fairly certain we were the only campers at Maple Creek and it kind of creeped me out. I envisioned a mountain lion getting me from behind while on the open air composting toilet. For a second night, I crawled into my Rab sleeping bag and felt like a swaddled baby.
Day Three
Heading out of camp
We awoke at 4am and I felt super rested. By 5am we had eaten, packed up our belongings, and were departing for the last day on the trail. After one 36 mile day and one 39 mile day, 18 didn't sound so horrible. We motored up past Nickle Creek and 2,000 feet up to the area above Indian Bar. I can't tell you how thrilled we were to not have done that climb the previous night in our delerious state of trail shuffling. It would have been ugly, and I guarantee I would have laid down and cried.
Rainier by moon light
The trail during this day was, overall, the most beautiful section. We killed lots of time taking photos and commenting on the extremely breathtaking terrain. We could see glaciers above waterfalls, turquoise colored alpine lakes, Mt Adams and even Mt Hood were visible. Seriously, how lucky were we? Bright blue sky and not a drop of rain for three September days! Better yet, three days that we both managed to get off from work. Even better again, we found ourselves here, without any ailments and not one complaint the whole time from either of us. Absolutely stellar conditions in every aspect. I may have butt chafing, but I didn't even form a blister on my toes. That's something worth feeling lucky.
Epic views
We made our way to Indian Bar. Seriously great location and I could see myself camping there some day, basking on the bouldery river bank like a marmot.
Bomber camp location
The terrain to Panhandle Gap from Indian Bar was mostly rolling. The climbs reminded our quads of the 80-some miles behind us, and the downhills caused some gimpy looking shuffling...but we continued on, taking photos, and giggling endlessly.
Holy shit
Mt Adams in the distance
Rocky trail at Panhandle
We ran around that!
From Panhandle we began, what felt like, the endless downhill. We told stories, greeted hikers, and frolicked happily. I said it loudly, "Hey Nichole, this is actually happening!" Day hikers began appearing on the trail and we knew we were close. One man, definitely a frequent Rainier hiker, decided to inform us that we had a bit of a climb ahead...but promised us that, "you're nearly there!" This reminded us of races, when you're about 5-7 miles from a finish and a spectator tells you, "you're so close!" This proximity statement builds up my hope every time, only to have a dramatic downfall once I realize that my idea of "so close" and their idea of "so close" are terribly different. We heard the White River up ahead and began running. We weren't excited to be done, believe me the trail is one of my favorite places. We were very thrilled to accomplish our goal, and with relative ease.
Approaching White River
We hit the river banks and my eyes began to tear up. I'll claim delusional exhaustion as my excuse, but for anyone who has finished something they questioned, you know what I'm talking about. My first 50K went like this - I realized I would finish and began crying 2 miles from the finish line. It is quite a mix to feel exhaustion and adrenaline at the same time. We found someone to take our photo, hit the bathrooms with indoor plumbing - thank sweet baby Jesus for indoor plumbing - and got right to eating real food and laying in the parking lot behind our cars. Jeez, what a crazy few days.
We did it!
We didn't set out to break a record, we set out to see if we could do something we thought possible. We also wanted to see if our systems worked, and find potential ways to improve for a future adventure. Here is some data for you:
Time Breakdown by Day
Day One: 1 hr at cars, 11 hours run/walking, 1 hour lunch, 30 minutes water refills, 2.5 hours at camp, 8 hours of sleep.
Day Two: 1 hr morning camp, 11.5 hours run/walking, 1.5 hr lunch, 30 mins water refills, 1.5 hrs at camp, 8 hours of sleep.
Day Three: 1 hr morning camp, 7 hrs run/walk/photo extravaganza-ing, 15 mins water refill, 30 min break at Panhandle. Party at the cars!
Total time moving on trail (aka: not in camp or asleep) - 33.75 Hours
Total time sleeping: 16 Glorious Hours
Gear Used: (team equipment and my stuff, Nichole had some different items)
Big Agnes Fly Creek UL 2 person tent
RAB Neutrino sleeping bag
Thermarest Neo-air sleeping pad
Brooks Cascadias (we both had them, coincidentally)
Typical running clothes
Isis Nimbus insulator puffy
Patagonia Hoodini jacket
Marmot rain jacket (not used)
2 L water bladder
Jetboil with Sol cup
iPhone for photos
Headlamp
Map
Favorite running trucker hat
Dental floss for proper hygiene
Small first aid kit
Heaps of calories
Sunscreen
Salt tabs - I can't run distances without them
Whoa! What a grind. Well done. Amazing for sure. I hiked it in 9 days, with 50 pounds or so on my back. (I'm dumb like that...actually, I gained my trail name "Little Big Pack" on that trip!) I want to go back, and likely will, going counter clockwise this time.
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