Mountain Time

In my mind, this weekend marked the beginning of summer. Mostly because I began the first of many weekends on Mt. LeConte, where I work as a park ranger. The job itself is wonderful, but trying to bring your day to day routine up the mountain with you can be an interesting proposition. For example, how do you get your run in when you live on a place such as LeConte? Well, you run on LeConte of course.

Out and Back on the Boulevard Trail

I managed to squeeze in around 20 wet, rooty, and rocky miles over the weekend. While most of the running occurred in the clouds and drizzle, the weather wasn't terrible the whole time I was up top.

A fat bellied Blue Ridge Spring Salamander

Near my turnaround point on the Boulevard

The first sunset of the season

Mountain time also means that I have no access to TV, internet, and little to no cell phone reception for much of the week. So as you may guess, the blog updates will be minimal (one to two a week) throughout the summer. The upside to this schedule is that I'll have three days off each week, ample time to get in some more insanely long runs and other interesting "projects" that I have had on my list for a while, which I hope will make for some interesting reading.


If you find yourself on LeConte this summer make sure you say hello to the guy in the funny looking hat!

And that's why they call the woods, the woods...

The Smokies Traverse

Great Smoky Mountains National Park
Fontana Dam to Davenport Gap
72 miles- 14hr50min22sec


For years I've contemplated the possibility of running the AT through the smokies in a single attempt. I'd hate to know the amount of time spent gazing at the Smokies map, wondering if it is even possible, much less a good idea. For quite a long time now its been just that; a day-dream... a notion... something I'll do "someday" when the time is right.

The route: Fontana Dam to Davenport Gap

These things are somewhat like having kids or buying a house I suppose, if you wait until you absolutely know you're ready you'll probably never do it. With this fact in mind, I finally convinced myself to attempt this absurd journey. And no, the timing wasn't right and I didn't feel ready either. Or so I thought.

For weeks my friend Brian had tossed out several possible attempt dates. I would agree to a date, flake off, and then try to re-schedule sometime later. He wouldn't have any of it, finally I gave up and gave in, settling on May 19th. My physical preparations weren't perfect either. For the week prior my roommate from college had been in town. Meaning my life had consisted of pizza, pretzels, and other more dubious forms of carbs. Top all of this off with a strange pain in my left foot that began three days prior to the run and you can see where I may not have began this attempt with great confidence.

Well, here's how events transpired:

An absurd journey begins at an absurd hour. We woke at 1AM and left the house about fifteen til' 2. We reached Fontana Dam a little later than planned, but still managed a respectable start time of 4:15AM.

No Donny, these men are nihilists

And away we go...

Running from the morning dark to dawn was one of the most enjoyable parts of the journey. I spent most of the dawn bird chorus doing a little birding on the fly, naming off species and natural history as we went. While the bird action was exciting to me, all my talk about birds eventually led Brian to jokingly (I think) ask if I planned on maybe listening to the i-pod I brought. In short, shut up about the birds Dave.

Near Russell Field shelter, Brian had to hang back due to some gastrointestinal problems. The rest of the day I would run alone, but morning views from places like Rocky Top, Thunderhead and Silers Bald made for good company. The first leg of the journey to Clingmans Dome was mostly smooth (except for dropping my headlamp down an embankment when trying to put away my gloves), with my water and food supply running out only about two miles before the aid station (my Dad) at the Dome.

I knew quick exchanges at the aid stations would be critical for a fast traverse time. In reading others reports, it seems this is where the most time is lost. At Clingmans Dome I gladly traded Dad my 100oz camelbak for two bottles of gatorade, an odwallla bar, and an ibuprofen. Within three minutes I was on my to Newfound Gap, with my time for the journey so far totaling 7hr2min52sec.

The downhill section to Newfound was a welcome change from the mostly uphill running that had occurred so far. Nearing Newfound Gap I passed former Smokies Traverse record holder Will Harlan heading the other direction. Upon realizing who he was I blurted out something like "Are you Will Harlan! Oh cool. I'm going to break the record today!" Tact and modesty are obviously my strong suits.

Reaching my second aid station at Newfound Gap was awesome. Dad already had the rear hatch of the Jeep open in a spot right next to the trail head. I stuffed my face with potatoes and mountain dew, then reclaimed my camelbak and began walking towards Davenport Gap. Thanks to Dads willingness to refill my nasty running pack with food and water while I ran from the Dome, I only had to halt my forward progress for about seven minutes at Newfound Gap. For the first 40miles I was sitting on a total time of 8hr40min.

Mmmm... mountain dew and boiled potatoes

All smiles for Mr. Williams

Leaving Newfound Gap, I knew I had a little over seven hours left to lower the previous record of 15hr57min. About a month ago, Brian and I had ran this same section in a little under six hours, if my legs would hold up I knew it was possible. As I left Newfound Gap though, my competitive side got the best of me. I decided that I not only wanted the record, but I wanted the next record setter to have to work for it. My goal became to go sub six hours for the final 30miles.

The running was a little awkward until I passed Charlie's Bunion. Reason number one being that I had only seen a dozen people all day and was now passing what seemed like hundreds, receiving many confused glances along the way. Reason two had to do with chugging a mountain dew and eating three potatoes, to say I had the bubble guts would be an understatement. Finally I again settled back into a smooth run/walk routine and resumed methodically ticking off the miles.

Reaching Peck's Corner my energy levels were still high and dancing along the crest of the Smokies was still surprisingly fun. Unfortunately though, all good things must come to an end. The section from Peck's to the summit of Guyot was nothing more than a forced march, with the cumulation of about 60 miles of rugged trail taking its toll on my body.

After a long walking break to the summit of Guyot, I knew it was time to get down to business again as the last twelve miles are mostly downhill. I ate yet another increasingly unappetizing energy gel and began opening up my stride. After doing some very confusing basic math in my depleted runner brain, I realized that a sub fifteen hour finish was possible. Making this happen would hurt.

Luckily as the evening light settled in my body began to feel rejuvenated, I would even go so far to say I was in some sort of strange Zen state. The excitement of a long held dream soon to be realized was overwhelming. As I closed in on Davenport Gap, I continued to push myself harder. Near the Davenport Gap shelter I met Caitlin who had hiked up to run out with me. I greeted her with a nod and I believe I said something like "gurfgh." She stayed with me for a few strides, but the excitement of being so close pushed me into what was an unsustainable pace for her on this steep technical trail. I hit Davenport Gap at 7:05PM, a little over my goal of sub 6 hours for the final 31miles, but good enough for a 14hr50min22sec overall finish. Effectively lowering the old record by a little over an hour.

One lucky guy

After a trailside dinner and a little nap, I woke up to see Brian Williams come striding into Davenport Gap. Brian posted a 16hr45min run, one of the fastest times for this most hideous stretch of trail. I was super excited to see him have such a strong run and owe him credit for pushing me to even attempt the traverse.

Both of us were fortunate to have such a good crew. My Dad especially deserves a big thanks for getting up at 1AM, driving to Fontana Dam, Clingmans, Newfound, and Davenport Gap all in one day just so some goofballs can go for a run.

The breakdown:

And now that this is over, I can't help but wonder... What's Next?

A Mt. LeConte Initiation

Thursday I had the opportunity to take my old college roommate on his first trip up LeConte. Though more of a slack(line)er and rock climber than hiker, he surprised me by making the trip up Alum Cave Trail in a little over two hours.

Stinkin' Willie near Gracie's Pulpit

For Hoy's first trip up I'd hoped for a crisp day with unlimited visibility... we didn't quite get it. But this time of year just being able to see out from the summit is a stroke of luck.

Not great visibility, but plenty of good cloud watching

Some people know how to live

Though setting a brisk pace up the mountain, we were by no means in a hurry and spent almost two hours goofing around and eating a buffet of leftovers we toted up the mountain.

Drinking in the views before heading back down

Since the trip up didn't blow his legs to pieces I thought I'd set a quick pace down the mountain and see if I couldn't break the guy down. No such luck. I think the only person that may have been beaten up some may have been my Dad, who was somewhat bitter about the brutal downhill pace.

Satisfactorily Exhausted

Despite demands for a double cheeseburger with mac sauce and a 4 piece chicken mcnugget, Hoy survived his first LeConte climb without complaint. Maybe next time I'll have to make him run up instead...

Sunny Days, Classic Rock and Boulders as Big as My House

Last Saturday, while Dave was at work (sorry Dave) we went on adventure on the far Eastern end of the park. Big Creek is one of my fav places to start a hike. In the spring and summer it can be spectacularly beautiful.

Big Creek...loooking goood

Dense green forest, wildflowers galore in the early spring on through summer and more places to get in and take a dip than you could shake a stick at...although their are lots of sticks to shake if you were so inclined(where does that phrase come from anyway?

So on the aforementioned day we set out on Big Creek Trail for a walk to Mouse Creek Falls, and in search of any other foolishness we could get into.

Traipsing through the Rhodo

Big Creek Trail has always been one of my favorite trails in the park. It is always nice to share a place you love with your best friends. We spent much of the day just hopping around on rocks near the river.

We spent much of the day looking for the "perfect" rock...classification below

On a previous hike with our buddies I failed to deliver boulders for our friend Hoy to climb. In fact I think I pretty much managed to find the only trail in the Smokies without a single one. Big Creek put up a much better showing.

Once found..the "perfect" rock was climbed...expertly.

He even managed to find one that was not covered in moss, surrounded by other rocks, harboring venomous snakes or choked in poison ivy and stinging nettle. Maybe we will have to try a warm Winter day next time.

Mouse Creek Falls

The falls was beautiful, as usual. Way worth the short walk. In fact, I always wonder why it is not more popular than it is. But I can't say that I am sorry that we were the only people there. ~~Caitlin~~

An Old Woman Taught Me How to Fly

Lately I've felt a little flat on the uphill sections of all my runs. The logical thing to do would probably be to scale back the mileage, rest up, or something along these lines. In my wisdom I've instead decided to include more uphill in all my  runs and throw in some runs up the local mountains for good measure.

Bringing us to Thursday's long run up Brushy Mountain.

This route makes you feel as if the mountains are rejecting your presence, the closer you get to the summit the harder it gets. The run begins with a little blacktop, transitioning to a few riverside gravel miles, a bit of fun singletrack, and then ending with a little good lord this is nothing but rocks and briers! 

After an hour and forty five minutes of "running" I found myself on the summit of Brushy Mountain.

Sand Myrtle in bloom on Brushy Mountain

A trip to the big mountain (LeConte) was tempting

Gazing toward Guyot

I needed to back by 1PM to meet Dad for our weekly bike ride, and perhaps I started late to begin with as well as spending a little too much time taking pictures on the summit. This meant I was really going to have to make up some time coming down the mountain. While I wouldn't say technical downhill is my specialty, I do enjoy it. It's one of the few aspects of trail-running that is more play than work.

I was flying coming off the mountain, bounding over rocks, roots, and down trees with ease. Then all of a sudden I was literally FLYING... I mean airborne... I mean in the air long enough to think this is going to hurt! Lying in the trail in my superman pose I slowly did a system check due to hearing something snap when I landed. Legs... ok. Arms.... ok. Face... covered in dirt, but ok. Turns out the snap was the strap for my water bottle. Of all the things to go snap, this would've been the one I'd pick. 

Scrapes and all I made it back on time to meet Dad for our ride. I was glad to finally have someone to show off my battle wounds to.

Just a flesh wound

Our planned ride was an extremely hilly 31 mile circuit of the local backroads and highways. After surveying my scrapes, Dad mentions we really don't have to do the whole ride. I reject this notion. He simply says, "I was afraid you'd say that."

Not quite recovered from last weeks 100k ride

The hills on our circuit seemed endless at first, but we eventually got the pay off with a several mile long downhill through Rocky Flats. The weather was perfect for our entire ride, making the journey somewhat enjoyable despite the ruination of my quads from the morning run. We completed the ride in a little under two and a half hours, long enough to make Dad say very horrible and unrepeatable things about his bike seat. 

Despite a little crash and burn on this weeks adventures I can't wait to be back on the roads and trails again!

Lucky Number Seven

About half-way through my work day on Saturday I realized April was about to pass me by without a trip up LeConte. This is absolutely unacceptable. To remedy this problem I altered my normal after-work routine and decided to mix it up with a run up Alum Cave Trail.

The conditions were not ideal. A 4PM start on one the most popular trails in the countries most visited park isn't conducive to a speedy ascent, but I played the hand I'd been dealt. Luckily past Alum Cave Bluffs I fairly well had the place to myself, allowing me to make it to LeConte Lodge in a little over 55min.

This one's for you Bird

Well worth the effort

After a brief visit with the Lodge staff it was time to get back to business and make sure I made it back home in time for dinner. For the trip down, the trail was empty minus a few Dark Eyed Juncos and some Black Throated Green Warblers. Fair trail companions in their own right.

Better trust your foot placement

Solitude at the bluff

I probably wont make it a habit of beginning all my LeConte runs at 4PM on a Saturday, but this trip was well worth fighting the crowds and made for a fun seventh lap up LeConte this year.