Dangerous Minds: The Timp Trail Half Marathon

This race was a turning point for me. When I crossed the finish line I had run the last of my quadruple header of race weekends. I had run more races than I had left to run this year, and I had put more miles to foot than I had left for the year. It was a nice feeling, but at the same time bitter sweet. Well, actually at the time I crossed the finish line it was nothing but a nice feeling, and not bitter sweet at all. My legs and lungs were on fire from the altitude, or stacking races up for a month, I'm not sure which. But I was glad to be done and chow down some of the chili being cooked in two vats and stirred with a kayak paddle. That was great form.

Full disclosure: This punk ran the half, not the full.

The race takes place in Orem, Utah, running on fire break roads and single track in and around the portion of Provo Canyon that calls Mount Timpanogos State Park home. Check-in occurred at the pavilion, and the race start was a just a short distance away on the fire break roads. Shaun and Marc put on a great race, but I'd like to go on the record saying that a 200' climb of switch backs right out of the gate was a sweet kick to the apple sack.Thanks. I ran the entire thing, which I normally wouldn't, knew I shouldn't, but did anyway. I guess it was one of those old-enough-to-know-better-young-enough-to-do-it-anyway things. I'm not sure if it was the consecutive races, the climbing, or the altitude (topping out at 6,480', its the highest race I've ever run),but my lungs and legs were burning after the effort. Fortunately, the trail leveled out a bit before another climb about 2.5 miles in. It was at the top of that climb that I started to hit my stride and really feel good and appreciate the scenery around me. I spent some time on this flat appreciating where I was and that I am fortunate enough to be able to travel to some really cool places and do some really cool things. Four weekends earlier I was running in the desert climates of southern Utah, now I was running in the alpine of northern Utah. It was incredible. Then we hit a really not incredible climb up the canyon at the halfway point. It super sucked. But damn it was pretty. 1,360+ feet later I was at the top and not puking which I consider a win.

Elevation Profile, note the not incredible, but kind of incredible climbs.

The reward for reaching the top is having a constant downhill through to the finish. The downhill was not overly technical, one could gain some speed if one desired. I wasn't worried about breaking my neck on the way down like I am in pretty much every single central PA race I have run in the history of life. Of course that's also when I stepped funny and rolled my ankle to where it made a super awesome "pop" sound. I think that was around 11 miles in. Luckily, since I am weird, I spend a lot of time standing on the blades of my feet, again, because I'm weird. It stretches my ankles out, and also makes me look weird. But maybe that helped since I didn't have any problems with it for the rest of the race, or at all.

Course Profile

On the way back down you hit one of the aid stations one last time. I didn't realize until after the race was over just how far up and away we were. I don't often get these wide open and sweeping views in PA. Its a different kind of beauty running out in the west.

Aid station, way the F up there in the red circle.

 For whatever reason, I really didn't want to get passed by people anymore than I had been. So I didn't bother stopping at the aid station. That warranted a few cheers from the volunteers, who all have my gratitude for helping us out there. Still, I was nervous people were going to catch me so I tried to kick in the afterburners on the fire break roads and add some distance between us. But I could still here someone behind me. I finally made a glance up after rounding a switchback. Turns out the noise I was hearing was me! There was nobody in sight. Not wanting to slow down my momentum I held the pace all the way back to the finish line at the pavilion. I also beat my time goal by about 20 minutes. I'm really not sure if that's because I am getting stronger, or if its because my perception of these races is coming more into line with reality. Maybe a bit of both.

This was my third race out west, second since I got (my level of) serious about running. I see a fair amount of back and forth between east and west runners. My experience, limited as it is, has been that both offer a unique set of challenges. Utah has been high, dry, occasionally rocky, and "single track" can often fit two people side by side. Central PA does not have the altitude to deal with, but its often wet, muddy, trails can be barely wide enough for a shoe at times, and full of rocks and roots. Often times I find myself engulfed in tall forests with vast views opening up on occasion. On the other hand sweeping views are more the norm where I have run out west. Both are great in their own way. Still, if I had to pick what would be easier, I'd say I'd have an easier go of living out west and running in the east, than living in the east and running out west. But I reserve the right to change my mind whenever I damn well please. Maybe I should run more races and build a bigger database.

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Hey hey, you kept reading! Sweet, don't go now. We got more to discuss. After the race I smelled wonderful. Like, just opened a garbage can that had been baking in the sun wonderful. I couldn't check in to my hotel for about four hours, so I thought it best to minimize human contact. I pulled out my trusty Roadside Geology of Utah book because that's what awesome people do, and read about whats up in the Provo Canyon area. Turns out Bridal Veil Falls is what's up, and nearby. So I pointed the totally rad blue Nissan Rouge in that direction and off I went. Bridal Veil Falls is classified as a 607' double cataract waterfall. I had two thoughts. 1). Bridal Veil is a too often used term for waterfalls. It seems like every state has one, just like most cavern systems have a "Fat man's misery". Its up there with just naming every new town "New-wherever I just came from". We need more art in life. 2). This waterfall is pretty gnarly. If my legs didn't feel like rubber, I would have climbed up there a ways. As it was, rubber legs, and I think people would considered my body odor as a declaration of war against Utah.

Bridal Veil Falls. I smelled really bad when I took this picture.

Close-up of the lower portion of the falls. I still smelled.

This is a fold from the Sevier Mountain Building event here to remind you that geologists know that thrusting makes the bedrock.

The next day I was staying in Salt Lake City. After deciding Moab was out of reach for a day trip, I made the drive over to the Lone Peak Wilderness area to take on the Red Pine Lakes Trail. I read that Mount Pfeifferhorn is a favorite destination of hikers. I refused to refer to it as anything other than the Michelle Pfeifferhorn and play Dangerous Minds as I hiked. That made for an entertaining experience as I was pretty much just me and Michelle for the entirety of the trip. Still, just under 10,000' I realized the snow was too deep for my gear which consisted of jeans and shoes so I called it good after about 5 miles.

I dig trail pictures. And those aspens show that the mountain side is sliding. As it slides, the trees tilt over, and they have to grow upward to correct giving them the J-shape. Geology is awesome son.

I made my way up to that ridge in the middle of the snow. It was hard going. The snow was pretty darn deep so I called it a day there.

The view from up top. Well, my up top. Utah is freakin' awesome.

I was in Utah for a geology conference (go figure). It Started Sunday and finished up Wednesday, although both my talks and obligations were Tuesday. A friend of mine that grew up there suggested I try and give Mount Olympus a try if I had time. I figured after two and a half days of conferences, I could skin out early on Wednesday and try and reach the summit of Mount Olympus and hopefully meet Zeus. The hike is 3.5 miles of relentless uphill to a saddle between the summit peak, and a lesser peak. From the saddle, one must endure a pretty crazy half mile+ exposed scramble to the summit. Apparently this scramble is labeled as a Class 3 which means a rope could be useful. I didn't have one, but I did need to do some free climbing to get up a few sections. I also met a totally rad dude and his two rad dogs on this climb, and we all made the summit right at about 3:30!

On the way to the top. Wondering what to say to Zeus.

I'm so nervous. I've never met a God before.

Why are all Gods depicted as looking like a cross between Jerry Garcia and Santa?

Made it to the summit. No Zeus, but I left him a note in his mailbox. 

This was my first time summiting a mountain. I may have gotten the itch to do more climbing, or it was a bug bite, jury's out.

Thanks for sticking with me and reading this much. I'm still in awe that anyone takes the time to read about my adventures. Again, a huge thanks to Shaun and Marc for putting on such an excellent event. They run another race in the fall I'd like to do sometime, the Elk Run Half Marathon. Another one for the list. I hope you all had a great holiday doing whatever it is you wanted to do.