Most of our trail runs go through public lands that don’t allow mountain biking, like Saguaro National Park or Santa Catalina Wilderness.  Besides, most of those routes are too rugged for a mountain bike, at least if you have any sense of self-preservation.  But this route is one of the ones where mountain bikes are allowed and you won’t die trying (probably).

Wayne Coates first devised this as an out-and back training run for a few friends.  Then he proposed directing it as a Tucson Trail Run series event, open to both runners and mountain bikers.  In 2007 we had 10-15 participants.

When I did this last year on my bike, I felt somewhat life-threatened.  Similar sentiments were expressed by other mountain bikers that day.  This route has some pretty rough, rocky stretches, albeit no mountains to climb.  I was also so exhausted when I reached the turn around that I didn’t seriously consider turning around.  At first I was going to hitch a ride with Patricia, Wayne’s wife, who was handling the aid station.  Then I figured out I could take dirt roads back to the start.  I left Wayne with the strong impression I wouldn’t attempt the ride again.

But time passes and memory fades.  More important, my oldest son Gabe’s mountain bike came back to live with me.  My own bike is what’s called a “cross-country” model.  It has full-suspension (front and rear) with about 3 inches of travel.  Gabe’s bike is an “all mountain” bike with 6 inches of suspension travel.  What that means is that it’s more likely to roll over rough, rocky terrain.  My bike is more likely to get caught, resulting the rider continuing over the handlebars.  The trade-off is that all-mountain bikes are heavier and slower on roads than cross-country bikes.  So gee, go slower on the road and not die.  Seems like a good trade to me.

Here’s a map of my route.  Click on the thumbnail and the full-sized map will open in a new tab or window–

This year, we had 3 runners, one run director, and me.  Wayne got us started.  The first quarter mile is easy for a bike, then it’s about a mile and half of hike-a-bike with occasional riding breaks.  Kim and Celestino disappeared quickly.  Initially, I couldn’t tell that the all-mountain bike made much difference, but some of that was my own timidity.  I kept getting to downhills where I’d say to myself (and I really was talking to myself) “well the bike can probably do this, but I’m a chicken”.  After 2 miles of crossing rugged little ridges, the trail drops into Redrock Canyon.  Then it gets pretty rideable.  I met Kim and Celestino headed back for their brunch at Tree of Life.  Mostly I was riding, with some walking through sand and over rocks.  A bit past the 6 mile point is a striking cliff face on the right.  It’s a multi-colored, multi-formed, predominantly red expanse, presumably the canyon’s namesake.  Wayne encourages people to use this as the 12 mile out-and-back turn around.  The route turns hard left and picks up a jeep road, which it follows for almost 4 miles.  It was along here I encountered Patricia coming my way (a bad sign).  We later figured out there is a confusing part of the route where people can end up going in a circle.  Wayne may have ended up on that, too, when he came out to look for us from the aid station.

I suggested Patricia follow me, since the aid was closer than the start.  If I got ahead much, I would make arrows and marks.  We quickly came to the place where she had turned right when she should have turned left.  I think some folks did this in 2007, too.  I pulled ahead on the roady part, but drew a few arrows.  I reached the dam where I had gotten a couple of hundred yards off in 2007 before I decided to go back and cross the dam.  From there, you climb out of the canyon (translation: push the stupid bike) up to an upland with some dirt roads and a trail that leads up to a pass.  I met Wayne on the climb, wondering what had happened to us.  On the dirt road up top, I encountered Doug, a horseman headed the other way.  By now I had decided the all-mountain bike was indeed rolling over terrain better than my own bike.  Not dying was good.

I actually had fun with the last mile or so of trail.  This climbed into the montaine, foresty part of the route.  I got to zing down to the parking lot at the trailhead.  I parked my bike against the Arizona Trail sign, and Wayne appeared soon, with Patricia close behind.  We settled down for a few refreshments, then they headed home while I finished the loop.  While I felt better than in 2007, I was still tired.  I didn’t think it would be smart to return on a trail by myself when everyone else had gone home.

The road climbs to Canelo Hills Pass, then drops into a huge valley ringed by mountains.  It’s a grassy expanse with few trees, mostly close to or above 5000 feet elevation.  As I swung south, then west, I crossed a wash labeled “Santa Cruz River” heading south.  This valley is the headwaters of the Santa Cruz before it enters Mexico and turns north toward Tucson.  The all-mountain bike was most definitely slower than my bike on the road, but mostly that was the matter of the relentless head wind.  After seeing one truck just as I started out on the road, I don’t think I saw another human or vehicle for over 15 miles.  I did see a lot of cows, who usually stared at me for awhile, then left.  After descending into the valley and crossing it, I got to climb out on the west side into the head wind.

Then the fun part of the road happens.  There’s a fast drop into the canyon system that becomes Harshaw Canyon.  I let it get to 26.  Then it’s mostly downhill or flat along the canyon floor.  I think I saw a vehicle or two near Patagonia, but I never saw an actual human being until I reached the trailhead.  There Dale (Doug’s dad) was parked with a horse trailer.  We chatted, I packed up my bike, and headed home.

It was a good day.  I appreciated Wayne and Patricia putting on the event.  My GPS claimed that the AZ trail section was 13.8 miles.  You’ll see the Terrain Navigator software thinks the entire route was just under 32 miles, but the way GPSes work, both the GPS and the software would estimate longer distances on the trail where I was moving slower (Might have to do a page about that…).

Here’s a series of photos I took of runners before and during our Bigelow event.

Some of the images will get bigger if you click them…

At the start–

Click to see the rest–

Up at the top of Palisades–

The Train–

The GPS Bearer (who later got a bit lost on Bigelow)–

Molly escorting runners–

Hanging out at aid before heading to Bigelow–

More hanging, maybe on the return (I forget)–

Kandi arrives–

Steve and Joe, smiling travelers–

Question for the long time runners of this route. Is the attached picture the old Mica Mountain fire tower? (see the end of this post).

A very nice day for a run. Everyone was off at 6:33. Some negative comments about the steps above cowhead and some steep sections. Once above that the trail was really nice, the water cool and delicious and the deer were abundant. Lots of wild flowers out to delight the eye. A breeze came up around 10 AM which helped keep the runners cool on the way down from the mountain. Another successful adventure.
Joe Dana

Results of the 2008 Mica Mountain run/walk

Mica Mountain ~27.1 miles
Kyle Blasch 5:23:47
*Doug Kelly 5:33:47
Chris Fall 6:13:03
Jerry Riddick 6:13:28
Jim Holmes 6:14:10
Jane Larkindale 6:14:10
Joel Stump 6:46:19
Gene Joseph 6:55:31
Steve Olson 7:30:00 Saturday
Ross Zimmerman 10:43:00
Donna Kanoza 11:31:00 Friday
Monica 11:31:00 Friday
Steve Kanoza 11:31:00 Friday
Joe Dana 11:31:00 Friday
Rick Kelly 11:53:00
**Kandi Karuza 11:53:00
*Doug took the Manning camp Alternate route adding about 1 mile to his run for a total of 28.1 miles
**Kandi was about 1.7 miles down when she meet Rick and turned to top out with him. Adding about 3.5 miles for a total of 30.5 miles

Spud Rock ~26 miles
Chuck Spurling 6:41:24
Tonja Chagris 6:41:24

First Stream near top ~22.2 miles
Bruce Gungle 5:40:05
Angie Brown 7:47:00

Cowhead ~18 miles
Julius Martinez 3:09:00
Joel Woppert 3:09:04
Dan Laird 3:54:13
Patricia Wiercinski 5:21:33

Douglas Springs ~13 miles
Enrique Aviles 3:51:40
Jennifer Aviles 7:06:24
Kathy Howard 7:06:24

Mica Mountain Marathon is one of our original events, and a true classic. What follows is my visual account of my latest Mica Mountain Marathon. We’ve dedicated it to the memory of Bob Deeran, the short, stocky ex-marine engineer who directed our series for several years. He passed away much too young from cancer. This was one of his favorite runs, so you should keep an eye out for a gruff bearded runner on top of the mountain.
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The original version was billed by Ken Young as 26.6 miles, with 6700 feet of climb. With the new trail segments below Cowhead Saddle, the distance is now over 27 miles. Joe and I both have the same Garmin 60CSx models, and both claimed 27.1. This was the first time I ran my 60CSx at one track point per second, so I have 35,000-40,000 data points for this run, the same data the GPS uses for it’s guesses. The 2 mapping programs I’ve shown the data to so far think the distance is more like 27.3. The 6700 feet of climb may be pretty close to reality. Here’s a map and profile from my GPS track, using Terrain Navigator mapping software–

This run is loaded with memories for me. Like lying under bushes dehydrated the first time Ken took me on the run as a trainer in late 1979. This was before I even conceived of ultras, let alone had learned how to take electrolytes and carry water. It took me 6 hours, and Ken was annoyed when I finished because I had the car keys and the nearest refreshments were miles away. Other years involved several feet of snow under our feet. I will admit the memories of tearing up and down the mountain as fast as we could sustain tug at me, but that was many years ago when my body worked differently. Lately the challenge of getting through the routes in good order and making the record, written, visual, and in maps, has been pretty satisfying.

I was surprised by the turnout when I arrived at the east end of Speedway, and especially pleased to see my old friend Kathy Howard, down to hike with Jennifer Aviles, another old friend. I reset my electronics as Joe got us started. This run, I carried my camera in a pouch on my chest strap instead of in my pack. This made it a lot easier to whip it out and take pictures. I decided I would try and get a shot of every runner I crossed paths with. All told, I ended up taking 118 photos–I’ll include a selection here. As usual, I sized them down for the web. If you want a full-sized photo let me know. The background in the runners’ photos will give you a sense of the topography and vegetation along the way.

Mica is like a series of climbs to rolling shelves. It’s flat for the first half mile or so, then climbs to the first shelf. Here’s Kandi Karuza on the first climb–

Notice Kandi is still in Sonoran Desert with lots of flowers. At 3 miles, the trail climbs to the Reddington Pass upland. Here’s a view back over that first 3 miles–

This is where the saguaros drop out and we get into oak woodland. The old trail went right up the slope to the Reddington Pass upland, but they’ve added switchbacks and swung the trail south of the original route. I think this has lengthened the run by several tenths of a mile. At this point, I was deciding I felt weak and worthless and considered turning at Doug or Cow. However, I was on a mission to get a good visual account and GPS track. Here’s a landmark Ken Young taught me about a half mile before Douglas Springs. He called it “50 Minute Rock”–

Consider the implications. At this point, I can see the ridge of Mica looming above me–

Just before Doug Springs, I started encountering runners. First Enrique Aviles–

Followed shortly by Joel Woppert–

Then Julius Martinez at Doug–

Douglas Springs is a campground just before the next climb to Cowhead Saddle. It’s one of the most permanent water sources in the area and very picturesque–

Above Doug, there’s also been some trail rerouting. While the route is a bit longer now, it’s more runnable. After climbing a slope that used to be thick with red-trunked manzanita shrubs before the fires of the 80s and 90s, you swing around and drop into a pretty canyon that used to be the first true forest with pine trees. Much of that burned out, although vegetation is coming back nicely. I encountered Dan Laird on the slope–

After running up the canyon, you climb out and work your way up to Cowhead Saddle. I met Patricia Wiercinski next to a spot where I sometimes get water–

As I approach Cow, I’m always looking for the gnarled juniper whose roots I often set my pack down on–

From Cow, I turned east for the climb up the ridge of Mica itself. This is where I really started to see folks. Bruce Gungle turned up first, and we chatted–

Kyle Blasch whistled past–

Doug Kelly was next–

I later learned Doug made the classic mistake at Fire Loop trail and overshot to Manning Camp, then took the trail from Manning to Mica. In addition to people, I was shooting interesting scenes. Lone trees catch my eye–

Jerry Riddick and Chris Fall turned up a bit further on–

They stopped to tell me about the new trails in their neighborhood. There will be a mountain bike expedition…

Jane Larkindale and Jim Holmes came up on me before I could get a great shot of both of them (sorry Jane!)–

Going up a chute, I still managed to catch Tonja Chagaris and Chuck Spurling–

As I approached Mica upland and the creek where Joe Dana promised water, I met Gene Joseph, my partner in crime–

We talked about where everyone was, trying to make sure all were accounted for. Then I trotted on and got a shot of Angie Brown just before the creek–

I filled up a water bottle in the creek and enjoyed trotting through shade and relative flat terrain. Shortly thereafter, I started meeting whitetail deer. The first two were laid back, one letting me get within 50 feet before she trotted up a bit to give me space–

After taking several pictures, I trotted on, only to meet 5 more deer, all of whom ran off as fast as they could. This run, the “sky island” effect really caught my attention. All the tough climbing was before we reached the creek, then it’s easier terrain to the highest bump on the ridge, Mica Mountain, in cool pine forest. I’m always struck by the plump Claret Cup hedgehog cacti up at 8000 feet–

Soon, I began the easy climb up to the North Slope trail junction, which came with its own moccasin on the sign–

That’s Helen’s Dome in the background. I started looking for Fire Loop trail to the top of Mica. These days, the junction is a lot more obvious–the signs are better and the trail’s more noticeable. I started the climb over over the burned ridges leading to Spud Rock. I soon encountered Kandi Karuza again–

She looked fine and commented I didn’t. In truth, I was not having my best day, even allowing for being old and slow. Soon after, I did the dip and back up through the picturesque area at the base of Spud Rock–

From Spud, you drop sharply down to a saddle with a junction to the trail down to Manning Camp. Then you trot up the easy slope to the high point of Mica Mountain–

Today you see the sign (which wasn’t there 29 years ago), but only the concrete anchors of the old tower. Here’s the tower picture from 1985 that Kathy Howard shared, with Kathy in the foreground–

I spent a couple of minutes taking electrolytes and getting re-organized, but didn’t hang around. On the descent, I noticed another “lone pine” scene just past Spud–

Just a bit further, a striking tableau of rock outcrop and burned tree caught my eye–

The burned areas below Cowhead and near the top are the most striking changes to the mountain over the 30 years of the run’s existence. Just after that, I encountered Rick Kelley coming up with Kandi, who had turned around with Rick. I found my camera battery was low, so Rick will be only a legend for this run.

I continued trotting down Fire Loop, back to the main trail. I found if I rested it between shots, my camera would still take an occasional picture. The 2 laid back deer were still near the trail when I got back down to their neighborhood. I got to the edge of the sky island and filled my water bottle again, then dropped over the edge toward the abyss of the Sonoran Desert. I saw several more lone pines, and here’s the most interesting one–

I dropped out of the pine forests into more oak and juniper. At one point, the trail curving below me caught my eye–

I could see where I needed to go in the distance–

As I approached Cowhead Saddle, I could see the canyon I would follow toward Douglas Spring–

This was the last shot my camera batteries would allow. Since I was starting to need to concentrate more on forward motion, it was just as well. As I dropped from Cow down toward Doug, I was really starting to notice that my running muscles were getting tired and my stomach was getting less happy. I switched to my speed hike and noticed that I probably sped up a bit. So I started to use the speed hike, with a trot over rough spots.

I was looking at my watch, because I was hoping to beat 10 hours. At Doug, it was pretty obvious that wouldn’t happen, but I still wanted to get done. I did pass a couple of young run/hikers with my power hike, although one passed me later when he smelled the barn. The strong breeze was keeping temperatures pleasant. I had finished the water in my bottle and switched back to my Camelbak, which still had cold water. It helped my stomach.

Soon I was down on the final descents, then on the last half mile. None too soon, as my stomach was telling me it was about done. I had taken to sucking on Cliff Bloxs to get the sugar without putting anything in my stomach. That seemed to help some.

I got to the parking lot, stopped my GPS, hopped in my Trooper, and called Joe. I learned the status of the rest of the runners, and told him Kandi and Rick were together and doing fine. Since I’m unsure how many more years I’ll be able to do this, I was fairly pleased with myself, and pleased to have a photo record of the journey. Perhaps I’ll put the complete series on a CD to share…

Here’s a series of accounts of runners’ adventures–

First a tally of participants:

Hello,Following are the final results of last Sunday’s Esperero.I didn’t want anybody left out. This is one for the records.gjRunners:

Reed Harris 3hrs Phoneline

Steve & Donna Kanoza, Joe Dana 3:15 Phoneline

Chase 4:52 Esperero

Gene 5:24 Esperero

Jane Larkindale 5:30 Esperero

Jim Holmes 5:30 Esperero

Steve Rourke 5:32 Esperero with a Phone Line finish

Troy ??? 6 ish Esperero

Joe Plassman 6:23 Esperero

Bruce Johnson 6:33 Esperero

Joel Stamp 6:33 Esperero

Doug Kelly 7:40 Esperero+Cathedral

Ross 9:50 Esperero

Kandi Karuza 9:20

Rick Kelley 13:27

Much has already been said, I see. Perhaps we DO need to have a bit more of a system in place in case a wheel falls off…But i reckon I’m too much of a libertarian to really encourage too much codification. Maybe for runs like this one, Ross’s Blurb should encourage people to follow Bachani’s Maxim : Take what you need to spend the night. Bachani has had some bad things happen to him, and he is still standing. Sounds like Rick Kelley can wear the “tough hombre” mantle now, too.Anyway, the worst bit for me arose because one of the runners wrote down that he was only going to do 2 1/2 hr run, out and back. Since I covered the lower 4 miles in the time frame when he should have been returning, it was apparent that he had done some kind of jack move. So at 5 hours, I started to get concerned and called his wife. Started to scramble the capable Jim and Jane Rescue Duo, and then the missing runner shows up… Having run the whole thing. Apologies to your wife, man. Didn’t mean to cause her alarm. But it was a rather nasty day to be out on the mountain if you were there much past noon.cheers,g

Chase’s story–

Esperero Canyon Loop 2008 A Green PerspectiveAbout a dozen hearty souls ran up into Sabino Canyon at 7:05am onSunday morning, the 16th of March. By 7:10 I made a wrong turn offthe road ending at a restroom. I quickly cut through a wash and foundthe Esperero trail hooking up with Doug Kelly. We leisurely workedthe trail and enjoyed the sunrise shining through partly cloudy skieson newly sprung wildflowers.It wasn’t until after Cardiac Climb that we encountered our firstdecision point which was quickly solved by combined efforts. A halfmile further we encountered a washout with many large trunks of treesentangled in boulders. Just past this snarl and to the right, trailwas rerouted along the edge of the washout. Up until now the trailwas fairly evident with many cairns placed along the way.After the Esperero / Cathedral Rock junction the trail was overgrownwith bushes and large limbs of trees to climb over but was stillfollowable along the front of Cathedral with no difficulties makingour way to the shoulder of the Rock, or maybe it was the armpit, I’mstill not sure. I did figure out where the crotch was a half miledown the backside. Doug and I reached top-out at 2:06. I offered thatwe work together finding West Fork but he was intent on taking theside-trip to the Cathedral. As I surveyed the descent on the backsideand tried to get an idea of proper direction I felt a sense offoreboding. I studied the topographical map for this trail prior tothe run and identified a spur directly north about 150 meters downthe slope. In absence of a trail to follow, my plan was to scrambleto the spur, guide right, and stay below the ridge while I followedit 1.6 miles into West Fork. I visually located what I thought wasthe spur and then before heading down the slope I looked to my rightthrough some small trees and found a trail. Unfortunately it onlylasted 100 feet.Trail quickly disappeared so rather than continually stopping andtrying to identify every little space that looked like an opening,wasting immense amounts of time, I dashed off to my right into aravine of large boulders and followed the new route. I completelyforgot about my spur plan as I was covering ground fairly quicklyjumping in, over and around boulders and snags. Several times Ispotted footprints which made me feel like I wasn’t the only idiotthat bought this route. Occasionally I encountered the waterfall rockthat was too high but lucked out and could maneuver the shiggy to thesides and find alternate ways around without backtracking. I hadspent 20 minutes in this fashion thinking that if the old trail werestill evident I’d probably be at the bottom by now. I caught anoccasional glimpse of the green topped trees in the West Fork. Italways looked very far away and far below my present position.Mentally I tried not to worry about my choice of a route. I had takena gel back at top-out and had used electrolytes every hour so I wasable to maintain confidence in my decisions which preventedhesitation of forward movement. It had become damnably cold aboutthis time as well as light flurries falling out of the sky so Istopped and donned my gloves. Now the real fun began.In retrospect I must have gone too far to my right and overshot myavenue, probably due to encountering a drop-off I couldn’t handlethus forcing me to go too far around and losing my original ravine. Ifound myself dropping into a nice wide gully with plenty of room tochoose alternate paths around giant boulders. I even jumped off acouple house size rocks into nice sandy landings not thinking thatthere would be no way back if I was wrong. Why worry about thatthough, I’m not coming back. This was too easy. Looking ahead I wasgetting a good view of the other side of West Fork and identified theRomero Pass trail when I ended up wedging myself into a `V’ formationof boulders with two ascending rock walls on both sides. I came to astop and peered into the abyss 30 feet below. For one or twomilliseconds the thought crossed my mind that I could slide down andthen drop maybe 15 feet or so. For obvious reasons that synapse quitfiring. My legs are becoming wobbly as I really don’t know what todo. I can see where I want to be and I can’t turn around because Iover committed. It’s amazing how far 1.6 miles extends visuallylooking downhill.Just to the rear of the rock face on my left were dozens of youngtrees with spikes the size of sewing needles protruding up and downtheir trunks which were growing between rocks that fit together likea children’s puzzle jammed into place with pieces remaining on thefloor. The only option I had was to climb the rocks by placing myfingers into well placed cracks and grasp the needle bushes forleverage and stability. The climb was about 10 or 12 feet up until Icould get my feet on a flat surface. I managed to crawl through moreshiggy on my hands and knees until I rounded the backside of the rockface and found daylight.I was feeling good now especially because I had some awesome catscratches all over my body to show off when I got home and at workthe next day. Trish ran the half-marathon in Rancho Vistoso earlierthis morning so I knew I had her beat for battle wounds. I don’t knowif I was near the old trail route but I had a much easier time movingthrough this part of the mountain as I readjusted my glidepath downto the final slope that dropped into West Fork. Continuing to useRomero Trail as a guide I made as direct a descent as I couldfiguring when I got into the trees I may go up the other side to thetrail I knew was there and run it back to the proper intersection. Ifinally got into the riverbed and made a right. Within 100 feet thelower limbs of trees were cleared away like I was in a campground andlow and behold, the Romero Pass / West Fork / Cathedral Rock junctionsign; one hour exactly from the top-out.I stopped to empty my shoes and get a bite to eat and then turnedright on my way to Hutches Pool. I ran a quarter mile down the trailand spotted two humans coming towards me. They asked me what theRomero Trail was like and I responded that I didn’t come down it butI spied a trail from above while on the Esperero Slide so at least Iknow one exists. I then asked them if they had seen any other runnersin order to know if anyone got down quicker. They reported no peoplesince Hutches. The West Fork leg of the trail is in remarkably goodshape with large cairn piles and no trees to climb over. As I movedcloser to Hutches and out of the depth of the fork the trail was easyto follow as the grasses were still dormant. The footing isn’t thebest on many portions but to my recollection it never was. I ran byHutches and crossed the stream keeping my feet dry. The trail comingby Hutches Poole all the way to Sabino Basin has been worked nicelywith no footing problems. I climbed out of the basin and looked downand to the right across to the side I just came from. I could see nomovement of other runners. Has anyone ever thought of shortcuttingthat in the past? Upon reaching the top of the road I reached theparking lot in 26 minutes taking 1:40 from the West Fork / Cathedraljunction for a total time of 4:52:11.Geno was faithfully waiting by the truck with Gatorade and otherrefreshments. I didn’t really know what to say to him except, “Giveme a call later this evening if you need help on the search andrescue effort.” He never called so I assume that meant even Joel eventually made it back from his hour and a half out and back jaunt that at the time I finished he was two hours overdue according to aphone report from his wife and son. It was a great experience but alittle harrowing at times especially since I told Trish I would behome by 1:00pm to make the corned beef, potatoes and cabbage dinnerthat I had planned for the family in celebration of St. Patrick’sDay. Oh yeah, Guinness too, or three.

Chase

____________________________________________________________Ross’s note–

Wanders in the Wilderness,

I knew this was going to be a weird day when I started to notice white stuff coming down out of the sky at Bridal Veil Falls. I had to stare at a flake melting on my glove to convince myself it was snow. I’ll post an account with photos on the blog in the next couple of days. Other adventure accounts appreciated. Chase, if you don’t mind, I’m going to post yours to the blog (Or you could join, etc…J).In the meantime, the word “harrowing” comes to mind. Even I had difficulty staying on trail, and you may remember this was my first trail run in 1979 (I didn’t end up putting a route in GPS but I think I may post one for future reference.). Those of us on the slow end of the spectrum got to experience some cold, wet conditions. I was trying really hard to get down the road before a wave of cold rain hit. When my ears and arms started to sting from the impacts a mile out, I realized instead of rain I was getting hail.The back side of this route is unacceptably hard to follow. I’ve heard of 2 cases of folks doing things pretty different from what was advertised to Geno. That’s potentially pretty dangerous, as were the situations of people who couldn’t find the trail and came down the flank of Cathedral Rock toward West Fork trail hoping for the best. Kandi will attest to the several occasions where we went off trail, I walked us back until we knew we were, then searched until we found the trail again.We’ll need to discuss whether this run is practical next year. It would be if we spent a day clearing and marking the trail from the top down to West Fork. West Fork was actually very easy to follow between our work and the work of trail crews.Congratulations to everyone who completed this run. You’re tough customers. I’m considering a new category beyond Advanced…Ross Z

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Rick’s adventure–

Lesson to be learned other than not allow fat, over-the-hill runners to not participate? I feel that I exercised bad judgement in doing the run in spite of knowing that I would be out there at a time when a notable storm would be arriving. Any nasty weather in rugged high country is serious business and should be considered as a potentially life threatening situation. I have to admit there were some moments out there that I thought I wasn’t going to make it.

Rick

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Bruce’s comment–Quite a tale, Rick. I am very glad that you made it out OK.It was certainly an adventure for me but much more fun (for the most part). It was actually easier to follow the trail up through Esperero Canyon than I remember it being last year. I had no trouble until it came time to go down the back side; that should not be on a future run until some major work is done. Four of us (Joel, Troy, Joe & I) worked together to find a way down, and it took us an hour. We left a fair amount of blood behind on the thorns. I was very glad that I wasn’t alone for that stretch and kept hoping that others were not doing that solo. The West Fork trail is in great shape; that part was wonderful.Thanks for watching out for us, Geno.

Bruce J

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Jerry’s alternative–

Our tale…

In anticipation of a cold, wet bushwhacking experience Chris Fall , Bob Redwanc and I headed out on the BEAR Canyon trail at 6:30AM ( so as to avoid

any unpleasant weather). The trail was easily found and had even been improved near topout. On the way down to Sabino canyon we encountered Julie and Alli who

had similar trepedations. Our plan was to add some miles by going to Hutches pool, but when we crossed over from Sabino basin we saw black clouds. When the temperature dropped several degrees we turned around and headed home.It was possible it was going to rain after all.

Fortunately we made it out without any rain or scratches .Immediately we sought the nearest Starbucks.

Life was good.

jerry

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Joe P’s account–

I found the Esperero trail -> Cathedral turnoff well marked enough (running solo), but literally 5 feet after topping the saddle below Cathedral I was hung up in catclaw with no idea where the proper path might be. I was happy to hear Bruce, Joel and Troy below me, headed for their voices and a shared bushwhack to Romero trail. The Cathedral-Romero trail section is not hard to follow, it is simply non-existent.

Joe P

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Gene’s perspective–

Esperero 08 What a day for a run! It started out great with the best show of wildflowers in the lower section that we’ve had in years. The trail up was easily followed , but about a mile from topout, it turned cold and started to snow. This in itself was not so bad, but the trail down from the top was the worst I have ever seen it. It used to be the norm that it was overgrown, but it was only manzanita and oak. The trail could always be found with some scouting and ducking and pushing through. Now it’s as badly overgrown as before, but with New Mexico locust (4-6 feet tall with half inch hooked thorns) and Ceonothus with stiff, spine tipped branches. I would say that we are all blood brothers and sisters now, but I doubt that any two people took the same route down. The trail is virtually non-existent due to it being washed down slope with recent rains, with only a few cairns visible and arguably of any help. I met up with Steve at the top and together we made our way down the route. It was of great help to have two pairs of eyes watching for trail sign. We could fan out as far as 20 or 30 yards apart and scour the slopes much faster than alone. As soon as we reached the west fork, the trail was easily followed and in places it looked like a California trail, i.e. wide, flat and no rocks. It has obviously been worked since our Mt. Lemmon ascent. All of this makes for a good run adventure, but the additional factor of bad weather added a real element of danger. By late morning and early afternoon we were socked in. By that time I was down at the parking lot standing around and shivering in not enough clothes and majorly concerned about those still out. Everybody did make it in, but not without some trepidation on everyone’s part. Time for some procedural reality checks. We had four situations that were made worse because of the weather, besides the fact that several participants were badly slowed by the lack of good trail. We actually called Search and Rescue and called them off 10 minutes later as our missing runner came in. This was the result of a change of plan (both verbal and written on the sign in sheet) of one runner to complete the entire loop after committing to only a 2.5 hr. run. This was a seemingly innocent change of plan, but in reality caused this runner to come in over 4 hours behind his schedule, putting the RD and others on the spot. 4 hours late is bad enough, but in bad weather, there was little choice but to call. Another situation was a runner on the course who had not signed in. There was some discussion over who he was and where he was and even if he was out there. This is not fair to the RD whose responsibility is to keep track of everyone. Another runner changed plan and decided to add some miles at the top, and he at least did tell another runner what he was going to do, but coupled with the weather and the other unknowns was cause for some consternation. The last situation was simply a runner not knowing the route of the run and instead of finishing down the road (and in the order that had been known up till then ) he finished down phoneline, about 30 minutes later than expected. Some thoughts are this: any change in plan needs to be thought out and the RD needs to be considered. He/she should not be put in a position of extra concern, nor forced to be out there longer than planned. All runners need to sign in with an emergency phone number. It has been suggested that we sign in with the vehicle type and license number of our ride to the run. I think that this is a good idea and we will probably implement it in the near future. If you are new to the course, study the map in advance and carry it with you. Be prepared for bad weather, especially in high country. This is still a doable route, however since we are probably not going to do a preparedness check on runners, we might drop it from the schedule until the backside can be cleaned up. I would just as soon be out there running and having fun rather than writing this, but one of the reasons for this note is that if anything ever does happen to a runner out there, the heirs, if they sue, would likely target the RD, Ross and myself (hopefully in that order). gjp.s. does any body know what ‘Esperero’ means?

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Rick’s help with the name–

Rick

I was frankly looking forward to the 2008 edition of Esperero Canyon Loop. Parts of the trail were closed due flooding in 2007, and I hadn’t attempted the loop for several years. Here’s an account with photos (remember the photos are thumbnails–click to see the whole picture).

The weather forecast was concerning–storm was moving in later in the day. With my slug-speed, it would hard to avoid. When I started out there were some clouds over the Santa Catalina Mountains, but we were in sun–

That’s Kandi Karuza, whom I was close to much of the day. This is the section of trail where we ascended through fields of flowers. The lower miles cross a couple small canyons, then climb up a sheer-sided canyon to a box top. Then you trot along the west wall of Esperero itself before crossing a small saddle and dropping to the canyon. Here’s my first view of the Cathedral Rock–

We cross the dip to the east of the top. Looking over my right shoulder was an outcrop of the “hoodoos” that are common in parts of the Catalinas–

The trail drops to the bottom of Esperero, and travels up a canyon with some new erosion, but otherwise untouched by the fires. Here’s a fairly typical view of the canyon’s vegetation–

A short distance up the canyon is a rock face that climbers sometimes hike into–

After close to 2 miles of crisscrossing the boulder strewn creek, the trail veers right up a side canyon at Bridal Veil Falls, pictured here–

This means the serious climbing of Cathedral Rocks itself begins. This was when I started to notice snow drifting down. I had to stare a flake melting on my glove to convince myself it was real. I had been wearing my arm-warmers and gloves most of the run so far, which is unusual for me once I get warmed up. The climb is basically a long slog west up the slope and ridge to the junction with Cathedral Rock trail, then another long slog east to the saddle were we cross over. Once I got up on Cathedral trail, I had a nice view of the canyon and the Tucson Basin–

At the saddle, I looked up the slope toward Cathedral Rock itself–

There, you need to push through a corridor of brush, then look down to your left for the trail. There’s a false trail straight along the ridge where many a runner has missed the turn. Shortly after I started down, I heard Kandi call to me from the other side of the canyon–she had missed the turn. The good thing about the fire was that the forest was largely gone and she could she me coming down. I stayed in one spot until she scrambled up to join me, then we stayed together for quite awhile. The aspect and vista of the area was completely changed and it no longer looked familiar. In years past, I could never have looked down into Sabino West Fork and seen Romero Pass trail, as one can now–

A bit further down, we had views of the inter-mountain valley between and front range and the ridges of Lemmon and Bigelow–

Kandi and I made our way slowly down, partly due to poor footing, mostly due to a hard to follow trail. The general consensus is that this trail has become too hard to follow for many runners; several ended up bushwhacking, a dangerous choice if they had gotten into trouble. Here’s our route as tracked by my GPS–

The red is the track, and the dotted line largely hidden is the trail. Where the track parallels the trail are places where the map isn’t quite right. You can discern a couple of spots where we got off trail and doubled back to find it. We were very relieved when we reached the bottom of the West Fork and found the Romero trail junction–

From there, the trail was easy to find and follow as we made our way east and down to Hutch’s Pool. Near the pool, we got to run on highway-like trail that had been drastically reworked by trial crews. This continued more or less to Sabino Basin. About a half mile below Hutch’s is the major Sabino Creek crossing. I found out the hard way my new shoes don’t have great traction on wet rocks and went in to my waist, soaking my gloves as I caught myself. This was a problem, as it was getting colder, the snow was getting heavy and wet, and a cold wind was chasing me. By this time Kandi had moved on, with my blessing. I was taking layers on and off, trying to get things dry enough to keep me warm. I did stop to take a picture of the poppies, as we were once again down into the flower zone–

At Sabino Basin, I was deciding I would survive the cold and wet, and was noticing some clear sky to the south as I made my way down the Sabino Basin trail to the top of the road. The sun even came out and produced a striking portrait of misty mountains–

The snow and rain had stopped. I tried to shamble down the trail and road as fast as I could to get in before more came down. I made it to just past Milepoint 1 on Sabino Canyon Road. My ear stung as hail started to come down. After about 5 minutes it turned to rain, which was less painful.

At the bottom I checked in with Kandi. We knew Rick Kelley was still on the trail in the wet and cold. He ended up finishing after dark, but did make it in safely. Over that evening and the next day, I learned about the confusion and misadventures of the rest of our adventurers. I’ll collect the accounts in another post.

The was by far the strangest Esperero I’ve done since my first loop in 1979. It’s still extraordinary.

An Essay by gj

My morning started at about 3:45 am the morning of the run. A couple of hours later I was at the start nervously waiting to run 50 miles. Minutes before the run at about 5:55 am, Julie and Duane were presented with a memento for their efforts in putting on the most recent 8 of these Old Pueblo 50 mile runs. Theirs has been one of the best organized ultras in the nation. The course is well marked with 350 lbs. of flour and enough flagging tape to go to the moon and back. This tape is taken off of the course minutes behind the last runner, by Julie and her sweep crew. (In the months between the runs while Duane is out hiking in the mountain snow all Saturday night, Julie actually un-knots this tape and rolls it tightly back on the cardboard spools, making it ready for the next year.) In the past, we relied on the horse people to flag the course. This was always interesting because the front riders would often pull the flags to slow down their competition. But this of course would also send runners off in all directions. One year the run director, who was running (in those days 25 runners would be the norm, so the RD would join in to inflate the numbers), had to tear up his bandana to help mark the course for the runners who followed. Back then, if you were nice, the horse people would let you dip your head in the water troughs. Duane and Julie’s spread was incredible! They actually brought water in from melting glaciers in New Zealand.
So, at exactly 6:00 am, a gunshot was heard and all the runners ran away. The group was pretty tight at first, spreading out on the first hill about 30 yards into the run. This Ultra had begun! Sometime after the start, the pain began. I had been dreading this since my last run. But there was no way that I was going to stop so I kept running. After what seemed like many miles more, the pain was worse. Nothing I did would stop it. I ran leaning to one side, then the other, then I tried Chi Running, bending forward at the ankles, lifting my feet just enough to clear the rocks. It got worse. It was nearing unbearable. “How much farther to go?” I was desperate and then I thought of something Mr. Bachani had said. He said “Make pain your friend. It will make you stronger”. I had no clue what this meant, so I ran on. It hurt! I kept trying to figure out what he meant. “Make pain your friend?!” It got worse! It was unbearable! “Make pain your friend!? Make pain your friend!?” It hurts!! ….”OK! I’ll make this #@*%!*^ pain my friend!” How? Where? There he is… that big ugly guy over there. Kinda hunched over with green stuff coming out of his nose…I’ll just stick out my hand…O my gosh..he sees me! I can’t do it, so I slammed the door shut. It hurts worse now…I’ll just look out there…Oh NO! He’s gotten bigger and he has a tattoo of the Nike swoosh with blood dripping out of it on his forehead and he’s trying to beat down my door! Now he has a ramrod the size of a telephone pole…He’s going to break it down!! I hurt!! I’ll just sneak a peak out the peephole… Holy Cow! He’s transformed into an eighteen, no a twenty two wheeler revving up, belching green smoke, and with steel spikes on oversized tires aiming right at me!! I can’t hold out much longer! “Mr. Bachani what do I do??!! What do I do!??!” In desperation, I flung open the door and stood there with my arms outspread… ….Unbelievable!…Unbelievable! Rather than being creamed by a huge ugly monster, right at the threshold of my door, all of this big, ugly pain turned into a flock of butterflies! Hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of them. Big ones.., little ones.. in all colors of the rainbow. They fluttered around me, caressing me lightly with their soft fragile wings, virtually lifting me off the ground. It was a surreal experience, to be sure. Tactile, visual and very faintly aural. I heard the refrain from ‘Somewhere Over the Rainbow’ , “If happy little bluebirds fly Beyond the Rainbow, why O why can’t I?” “Well” I thought. “This is something new.” Cool! The pain was gone. I opened up another chocolate goo and ran on. The remaining 48.5 miles or so was the normal ultra stuff..lots of ups and downs, rocks, sore legs, some blisters and funny little people at the aid stations tending to my every need. I raced against the sun and once more I had won!

gj

Disclaimer: Some of the above is true.

Footnote: In the middle of the 1800’s two pieces of the same meteorite were dragged out of the Santa Rita mountains and were used as anvils, one inside the walls of the Tucson Presidio and one just outside the walls. The smaller of the two, ultimately named the Carleton fragment, weighed 633 lbs. while the larger, the Ring fragment of the Tucson meteorite fall, weighed in at 1400 lbs. (Nickel-iron meteorite is heavy stuff at 450 lbs. per cubic foot.) Some years later, both were taken to the Smithsonian for study and exhibition. Along the way, a 30 lb.chunk of the Ring fragment was removed.
The connection to us is the location where the fragments were found. It was near the head of a canyon named ‘puerto de los Muchachos’ in the sierra called ‘de la Madera’. We know the mountains as the Santa Ritas and the canyon as Box Canyon. For the past eight years, Old Pueblo 50 Mile Run has run up that canyon, to the dismay of many unprepared runners. Of course, if you ran the OP 50, you would know all of this, since there is a drawing of the Ring fragment on the back of the run T-shirt, and Duane included a book entitled ‘The Tucson Meteorites’ in the run packet of every runner. What you probably don’t know is that in addition to the great belt buckle that I received at the finish, the Run Directors, Duane and Julie, gave me a piece of the Ring fragment of the Tucson Meteorite in recognition of finishing my 15^th Old Pueblo!

It was fun to watch the tracks wonder off in the snow. I continued on the trail, and the tracks rejoined me after a bit. This happened 2 or 3 times on the ridgeline. I was on the lookout for the tracks not coming back. I was having a great day on a beautiful trail, reflecting on my memories of the place as I watched the present unfold.I have a long and sometimes painful history with Tanque Verde Loop. It was one of the first runs on which I got seriously dehydrated (Well over 4 hours of hard running with no water to speak of. Tough but foolish…). I’ve done the ridge in a snow storm while I was sugar-crashing badly, but had to get through it to get the 2 people with me down safely. This was the first run I ever DNFed, when I was too tired at Javelina to continue. I remember the ridge and basin before the fires, when the forest was thick. It’s still beautiful, but it’s different. Click on “Continue Reading” to see my account with pictures along the way. All the images are “thumbnails”. Click on them to see a larger picture (Which are still sized down to 40% of my camera’s full resolution.) I had watched Tanque Verde Ridge the previous day wondering how much snow was melting (not much). At the start of the 2008 Tanque Verde Loop, the likely depth of the snow was the favorite topic of conversation. Steve got us started, and I settled in for a long day, if indeed I could get through the snow. Joe Dana started a bit after the rest of us and hung with me after he caught me. Joe showed me how to find the balanced rock on the ridge line that bears a remarkable resemblance to Snoopy’s head silhouette on his dog house. Something I hadn’t seen in the previous 28 years! We discussed GPS technical stuff since he has the same model Garmin that I do, and because he’s a former air force navigator with a peculiar fascination for the topic (I’m disinterested, of course).After Joe turned, Cristina passed me and I gave her my usual quizzing since I didn’t recognize her. As I learned later, she is a current air force navigator. Then I ran over the rolling upland in a snowy landscape with a usually clear trail and thought about how I felt sort of worthless. I was wondering how deep the snow was going to get. I bumped into Cristina and her friends John and Barb at Doug Springs, then stopped to take ibuprofen, electrolytes, and try my first Snickers Marathon Energy bar. It was OK, but I didn’t feel any bursts of energy, so I was starting to think about turning. This was disappointing, since I was planning to get a GPS track of the entire loop and take some photos along TV Ridge.I had dropped into the canyon about a mile above Doug Springs where it’s shady and the snow was getting deep. It didn’t help my mood one little bit when Jerry showed up pulling a train of good runners, all agreeing the snow was nasty and not worth fighting. I heard Doug and John kept going. Then Bruce and Angie turned up, with Bruce warning me of frigid conditions on the saddle.  Shortly after that, I met Joe Plassmann, who had similar comments, but said he had turned about 10 minutes shy of the peak because he didn’t want to deal with the snow going down.  And he wanted to see the gem show (priorities?).By now things are getting pretty trudgy. My feet are getting cold and wet. My Achilles heel in snow is my Achilles tendons–when my feet get too cold for too long, I lose sensation, my Achilles tendons shorten, and I can’t put my heel on the ground any more. At Cowhead I put down my pack, took a few pictures, and assessed the state of my feet. I was pleasantly surprised to see Cristina and John had decided to follow me up to the saddle–I looked at the track headed up the ridge and decided to keep going for a bit since my energy was OK and I could still feel my feet. I will admit there was a bit of wanting make sure Doug and John’s footprints stayed on trail. I chatted for a few minutes and asked Cristina to let Steve know what I was up to. Once on the ridge, I found I was in bright sunshine and was quite comfortable in shorts and t-shirt. Here’s a shot of snow, sun, and ridge with my Camelback for scale–I found myself walking in the tracks of our intrepid pioneers, who I think were also following an even more intrepid hiker who had already broken trail (Boot and hiking pole prints). Thanks Doug and John! The ridge has been cleared out by the fires. If you use Google Earth or Google Maps and search on Tanque Verde Peak, you’ll see aerial photos taken before the fires. The fires actually improved the sweeping views and there’s vegetation coming back. Some interesting remnants of trees are left–The Tanque Verde ridge line only climbs another 900 feet from Cowhead to the peak. It’s normally quite runnable.  I kept looking to see if I could discern Joe’s turn around point, but it wasn’t obvious.  When you’re close to the peak there’s a steep climb to the base of a striking reef of rock. This was the first time I had seen the reef with a drape of snow that provided the moisture for this picturesque rivulet of water–Near the peak, there are several stretches of trail along north slopes, still with tree cover. That’s where you’re most likely to find snow, and this year it was lots and lots of almost knee-deep powder. As everyone knows, I’m pretty slow these days. I got even slower and was beginning to worry about my feet again. But then I did the familiar hook up to the TV Peak sign–Here’s a link to a high resolution version- Tanque Verde Peak SignAnd here’s a high-res view of the snowy tunnel Spur to TV Peak. TV Peak is actually a set of rock shelves with a bit of climb onto the shelves. Nice views, but I wasn’t up for the side-trip with wet feet and miles to cover. Running downhill in snow is one of my favorite things. It’s not always fast, but the snow cushion helps with my impact issues. I only fell down 2-3 times, none seriously. Glancing back, I saw a skeleton that caught my eye–A bit further, I got a good view to my left of the ramparts on the ridge top–Looking Back to the RampartsI trotted down into Juniper Basin, across snow fields and through unburned forest. Now that much of the area is burned, when you reach the Juniper Basin sign (where there is no longer a picnic table), you get a nice sense of the way the land slopes and drains out to the south. Every large and small stream was flowing vigorously.Past the basin, the snow was clearing and made for some interesting tableaus–Notice the mixture of recovering vegetation and burned slopes. A bit further, I encountered one of the prettiest water features of the day–Needless to say, I was wondering who else was around. Shortly after the water, I saw these large tracks–Soon (relatively), I was up over the lip of the basin and headed down the ridge. To my surprise since I hadn’t seen anyone, I encountered a solo woman hiker, probably in her 60s, on her way to the basin. There are two canyons that one crosses that are trying to cut through the top of the ridge. In one, the trail is exactly where the drainages drop off on either side. As everyone who’s done this run knows, it’s a long, long descent down the ridge. I was heartened by the sight of the first saguaro at about 4800 feet–A while later I got a good look at my goal, the Javelina Picnic Area–I was still a good 2 miles off. A bit less than a mile out, Pam showed up to meet me. We trotted on down and took her truck back to the east end of Speedway where I left the Space Pod. I kept my GPS going, so I have a new track of the entire route using the road return (albeit vehicle assisted). I’ll post some more map and profile information.While this was one long slow day, it was probably the most fun I can remember on Tanque Verde ridge. This is the most snow for the longest stretch I’ve ever encountered on this route, except for the year it was impassable. The word “magical” comes mind. I really wish more trail runners could have been there.

While running Cactus Forest Trail last Thursday I came upon what must be a 200+ year old Saguaro lying across the trail, 1.1 mile South of the Broadway Trailhead, just below the Mica View Trail Junction.  I can’t imagine what it witnessed through its life, but felt its passing should be noted.

http://ttraz.files.wordpress.com/2007/10/att00018.jpg 

jlt

Hello Runners!
Welcome to the new season of runs here in the hot, stinking desert.
We started off, appropriately, with a run up a mountain.  Starting at a few minutes after 7:00 (thanks Ross for covering for the late RD) we had 16 runners blast slowly out of the starting gate and ascend Mt. Wrightson via the Old Baldy trail.  This is the shorter, steeper route for a 5.2 mile run up of about 4,000 feet.  The morning was perfect for living, but especially so for running.  There was water at the spring, although not in the trough as the pipe connection is not functional, but the temps were mild, so the need was not great. 
Again, the helicopter failed to show, so we had to run back down.  Some descended via Old Baldy, while others descended via Super Trail, as did this author.  The run down was perfect, with several of us pushing and pulling the group to an unprecedented pace.  This route is about 3.6 miles longer but is eminently more runnable.  The views on the south side, after the fire of two years ago, are spectacular.  Water was coursing down a small drainage, so I naturally stopped to drink.  It poured off of a rock at chest height, at the base of a dead juniper and as I drank the cool, clear water, Reed looked up at the burned slope and said “charcoal filtered”.  It was the absolute best water in the world and a memory I will keep on file and pull up every mid-June from now on.   A great run on a great day with a great group of people! gj

Wrightson Ascent, Sept. 9, 2007

Joel Woppert            49      1:18:53
Nate Polaske            25      1:20:01
Bruce Johnson          53      1:31
Raoul Erickson         39      1:36#
Joe Plassmann         42      1:42:04
G. Joseph                55      1:44#
Tonja Chagaris         34      1:53:20*
Johnny Lyons           33      1:53
Mahendra Jani          53      1:54
Pete Chagaris          34      1:55*
Ross Zimmerman    54      1:57:56
John Hall                 37      1:59
Kristi Kane               36      1:59*
Ann Vonkersberg      46      1:59*
Reed Harris              56      2:02
Brenda Koski            46      2:02

Saturday, Sept. 8, 2007
Joe Theobald                    –      —-

*= early start
#= late start