Like a Yeti

Today marked the return to Wilderness peak.  Been nearly 3 months.

 I squirreled out the back do' and wiggled my way up, up and over our 'short cut' that nicks off a steep corner of Squak mountain, cuts across country thru' a nettle plantation and ends up on the rocky road that dumps you down to SR 900 at the R.V. camp entrance.   Dubbed 'hope pass' it saves us from having to drive (less C-footprint, less gas, less break-ins); it also quickly adds 500' of cry-baby climbin' which, today anyway... immediately put my legs in the crapper.  The Wilderness Creek Trailhead is kitty corner close across the highway.  Approaching the trailhead, facing traffic on the side of the road, I made some adjustments, using the predictability of the pavement to jostle stuff around and prepare for the assault on the summit.  I topped off my hand held from my waist-belt bottle, sucked down a few swallows of 'Nun' water from my baby bottle strapped to my other side and up I went.

Legs sho' were spent.  Under the circumstances I was faced with two options;

Ascend the single track in granny gear... keeping my back straight - chin up - small strides... (Scott Jurek actually demonstrates this technique on one of them u-tubes). I like it.  I can baby step up almost anything doing it.  I'm just not that fast at it.  Yet.

Or power hike it!  Get my glutes into it (ala Nick Clark, Killian Jornet, Geoff Roes, Mike Wolfe, Antony Krupicka, Dakota Jones, Frogger...so many others... monsters when it comes to getting up a mountain)... keeping my back straight - chin up - small strides.  I like it too.  I'm just not that fast at it.  Like a Yeti.

What ever it was that I was doing to pull myself up Wilderness Cliffs Trail did NOT, I assure you, look anything like any of these fine aforementioned mountain men.  The immortal Zatopek looked like a greek God when he ran compared to this Sasquatch.  I list like a leaking ship...  I ate a Gel.  I was leanin' like a broom.  I was as relentless in my forward progress as water running up a hill.  A turtle could of kicked the tar out of me... scratching me with his sharp little claws... as he climbs right past... 'on your left!'...

I powered the hikes and forced my lame-ola legs to run anything that was runnable and actually pulled into the bench at the top of old Smokey only missing my cut off goal by 4 or 5 minutes.  After signing something completely incoherent in the guest book - stashed in the wooden box - attached to a tree - on the tippy top of Cougar mountain -  I turned and got the hell out of there.  This ain't no Starbucks.  Get a move on buddy.

I found a little leg strength coming off the summit. I came thru' Shy Bear Pass at about 1:16 and hoped my legs would hold up on the descent down Wilderness Creek trail. No such luck.  I was grunting with every miss step but I stayed vertical... vamping at speed.  Pretty soon my breaks were gone.  I slowed a bit and drank a good amount of my electrolite mix which seemed to help a little, but it still felt like I was gonna wobble right off the back of this whole damn deal.  Some guy was in the Crick with a sack but I blew past.  I wondered what he was hunting but I couldn't stop to ask.  Couldn't stop. Couldn't run.

I somehow squirmed my way back down to the W.C.T.H.   I was glad to see the level pavement and once again used it gain back what was left of my running legs.  After the quick jaunt back across the road I entered into the RV park on the Squak mountain side of things again.  Faced with another long climb, and the very real possibility of beating my target time, I tried like hell to cover more ground running than I could fast-hiking but the grade was too steep.  So I was hiking with a purpose, turning my legs over faster, quicker,  punishing them because they could no longer run.  Soon enough I crested the 'pass' and dove back down onto a deer trail out of there and into 'nettles nook'.  My loser legs must of smelled the barn cause they finally uncoiled like sacks of Anacondas and together they ended up beating the crap out of 2 hours.  I was slipping in the grassy-ass mud on the brutal final descent and almost went down just before rounding the corner.   But that wouldn't do... falling this close to the aid station.  Slap happy, I punched it on down to the last little spat of hard pack to the flippin' fuzzy finish. Yo. Cougar.  What's up.  See you soon.

Baby Steps 1:30. 600' ft

Baby steps. Liq-Fern Gully climb to Indian trail, bounced off of Quarry trail and hoofed it on back to the Trail Head the way we came.  Heather running strong and lite, tight and right. Me, I'm toting an extra 10,000,000,000 lbs because of the 2 months no run no fun... gained a ton.  Strong till I wasn't any more.  Just beat the serious rain.  Left calf muscle complex fine... IT band in left knee not so much.  Chondro in the right knee and IT band syndrome in the left.  A few days of knee lefts and lifter stretchers and I'll be fine like wine.  Baby steps.

Drawing tight the laces on my XA PRO 3D ULTRA's and headin' to the head.  Trail head that is.  Licorice Fern TH to be exact. Been two weeks since last effort. Leg's better. Shingles are not.  Crap.  I'm growing a cedar beard and have moss wrapped around my spine.  It's running time.

The Injury.

How old is my youth?  I'm cautiously nursing the notion of forward motion.  The injury was lying in the tall sword ferns and lep like a lemur; latching leaf like on my leg.  It severed the Plantaris muscle/tendon tucked into it's vestigial complex between the calf muscles of my left leg.  Been some time...  a long time.  Maybe the fristy morning will bring me to the level of a valiant effort.  I stare down the summit of Wilderness Peak from the warm confines of our Issaquahian Alps Chateau and wait to be weary. My legs shan't carry me forth this fine December day.   I shall live to ascend another day it would seem.