Windfall to Montana Creek: Brown Bear Country

Four women start up a remote, muddy 14 mile trail through the mountains of Alaska in the late afternoon, with no cell phone coverage, no map, no compass, no supplies other than pockets full of jelly beans, and one diminutive can of bear spray that expired in 2006...sound like fodder for the next reality show? Maybe. Except that all four of us survived running Windfall Trail to Montana Creek, plus an additional three miles to Skater's Cabin, and our only disfigurements were blueberry stained fingers and scratches caused by the massive Devil's Club.

Windfall Trail begins roughly 26 miles north of Juneau near the outflow from Herbert Glacier. There are literally miles of planks to run and old, moldy corduroy logs to skitter across and countless streams to jump over (or stumble through). It's downright nasty, and never mind the fact that this is brown bear country.
So, why did we decide to run this long, potentially treacherous route? Because the annual Klondike Relay is fast-approaching and we need some serious mileage. Other than Treadwell Ditch, Windfall Trail to Montana Creek is one of the few trails in Juneau that is runnable, well - runnable by Juneau standards, and covers many miles without forcing you to climb 3000 feet into the clouds right off the bat (for that, see Friday's report of Running the Juneau Ridge). In fact, Treadwell only climbs 890 feet total, to mile 7.5, and there you are treated to a gradual descent of several miles through a stunning alpine meadow. But, believe me, as Michelle and Denise demonstrate, you pay for the gradual climb in other ways!

Windfall Trail starts out mild and is deceptively well-maintained for the first couple of miles, luring you like Hansel and Gretel into the verdant forest where you cross the gorgeous, glacier-fed Herbert River twice on relatively new and stable wooden bridges. After three and a half delightful miles, tranquil Windfall Lake comes into view on the right (West). It's lovely, and for a moment I think I'm back at my cabin in northern Minnesota. Feeling fresh, the four of us fully enjoyed this section of the trek and stopped to eat blueberries and peer at a couple of float planes and fly fisherman on the far side of the lake. After the cabin turn-off, the route quickly turns technical with several large, downed trees and soggy (slippery) planking that stair-steps its way up through the dense forest. The Devil's Club and Skunk Cabbage are suddenly enormous. And, the mud...where did all the mud come from? We haven't had a hard rain in Juneau in days. Predictably, our pace slowed between miles four and seven as we squished and slid our way through the forest. The highpoint was stopping to eat Mary's scrumptious peanut butter jelly beans and luckily she had an entire pack along, so there would be more for later. And, there were hundreds of chunky blueberries that we snatched and munched along the way. As I've just learned from the Internet, one serving of blueberries contains 25% of a daily dose of Vitamin C. They're also high in fiber and are an excellent source of manganese (good for your bones and metabolizing protein, carbs and fat) and, more than any other food, blueberries contain antioxidants that help neutralize free radicals which are unstable molecules linked to cancer, cardiovascular disease and other age related conditions. If I had known Sunday that blueberries are practically magical, I would have spent our 3.5 hours running time, loading my Camelbak full of them. Anyway, I digress.

Probably the most exciting part of the run started about a mile before we reached the alpine meadow. We were comfortably trotting through the tall trees when we came upon several large, fresh brown bear prints. Not just one print mind you, but many, and they ranged along three to four miles of the trail; all heading in the opposite direction from us. Hhhhmmm..huge, fresh tracks coming straight at us. Do you think the Grizzly heard us approaching and stepped off the trail a short ways back while we unwittingly passed within inches of it, stuffing our mouths with blueberries? Yep, probably. When we reached the meadow, the planking was no longer slimey green but dry, gray wood, and it's surprising how good that made me feel. We were no longer bushwacking through berry bushes and Devil's Club but were treated to lovely views of misty peaks. The trail trended down now for the remaining eight miles. After two more miles we could hear the flowing waters of Montana Creek and soon we could see it. The Montana Creek Trail began to hug the creek and was measurably better than the Windfall portion, except for three sections of gritty, black sand, abutting the creek about 40 feet above it. Don't look down! Generally though, you can open up and really run Montana Creek. We picked up our pace and after a couple of miles sprinting down the hard-packed trail, we crossed a large wooden bridge where the trail turns into a dirt road, and a short time later, we were at the trailhead. Our bear fears evaporated, and naturally we were all pretty hungry at this point. Good thing Mary had those peanut butter jelly beans along for us to share because we still had three miles of pavement, past the shooting range to Mendenhall Glacier and our big finish. It was 6:00 p.m. when we touched Skater's Cabin. Windfall Trail to Montana Creek may not include any dramatic climbs, but it's an arduous trek nevertheless, and we did it. How did we celebrate? We slowly pulled ourselves into Denise's car and split a bottle of lemon-lime Gatoraid. If this had been a reality show, we would've been ousted for such an anti-climatic ending, and the producers would have substituted four bikini-clad babes, perched atop the ice-berg near Skater's Cabin and the final scene would've shown them floating off into the sunset ready for their next adventure.Such is life.

Running Stats: time 3:30; distance 14.5 miles; Pace 14:30 min/mile; Calories burned 1522; highest elevation 890 feet.


Klick here to view the Garmin stats and Google map. Untitled by anne.johnson1 at Garmin Connect - Details: "Share". See you at Klondike!

Socked in on the Juneau Ridge

Running the Juneau Ridge seems to be a right of passage of sorts for local runners; it's steep, elusive, often foggy and is tauntingly visible from our homes and offices. The trail begins about one mile up Perseverance Trail, and then it's a nasty three mile climb with an elevation gain of 2800 feet to the first summit (elevation 3500). Here, on a clear day you're treated to one of those stunning panoramic views that only Juneau can provide. Once at the ridge, the trail traverses east for over four miles before dropping into Granite Creek Basin and back to Perseverance. According to my GPS watch the total length is roughly 12 miles from the Perseverance local trail head.
By August, the ridge trail is fairly dry and well-defined unlike earlier in the summer where runners can expect to jog through varying amounts of snow and generally glisade down to the basin. Those who have run or hiked the ridge offer one warning: "don't head down too early!" That's because the temptation is to veer to the right after only two to three miles on the ridge and drop down to what appears to be rolling, grassy meadows below. What isn't apparent from the ridge is a lower ridge that drops off precipitously several hundred feet to Perseverance.
Four members of our Klondike Team and one dog (Roxy) headed up towards Mount Juneau this morning. Two of us, Sharon and I, hoped to run the ridge. It was a bit discouraging when the upper quarter of our hike to the ridge route was draped in clouds. The forecast promised that the "patchy fog" would dissipate by afternoon. Of course, Juneau forecasts are notoriously errant and the weather unpredictable. By 11:00 we'd were on the ridge running and noted how chilly it was in the fog. Despite the gray mist, the trail was clear for the first mile or more. Then we reached a broad, slightly depressed, saddle containing several tiny lakes. It's one of the last areas to lose snow each summer and consequently the trail isn't as distinct, so we lost it. As the fog thickened, we wandered off to our right towards the mirage of green meadows debating whether to go further and searching for cairns. With the fog, in addition to losing the trail, we also lost familiar landmarks. We stopped to think. I'd hiked this route just last summer and my gut was telling me to head to our left, up a steep hillside directly into dense fog. Sharon agreed.

After climbing up a bit, the wind picked up and the fog lightened. We found the trail and, now smiling, continued on our way. We had another mile to go and passed through a narrow spot with a steep snow slide to our left. We couldn't see the bottom in the fog. The trail became less verdant and more rocky and after a last big climb, we headed down into the rocks and met a couple of hikers with their Husky. We were now under the cloud cover again and surrounded by several waterfalls, streams and the lush basin. As we ran across the streams and through the basin, we spotted four mountain goats above us. Soon we were back in dense salmon berry bushes and within fifteen minutes, popped out on Perseverance trail. Well, we didn't have the gorgeous views but the landscape was still breathtaking and intense. And, Sharon and I have now run the Juneau Ridge. We can join the local runners who wisely warn ridge neophytes: "don't go down too early." Here are the run stats: Distance 12.9 miles(including wandering around lost); 5:38 total time; Highest elevation 3914 feet(last climb of ridge); Elevation at start 344 feet and 700 feet at Mount Juneau trail head; Total ascent 5,420 feet (total descent the same); total calorie loss 1400 (woo hoo!).

Click here for the Garmin stats Juneau Ridge - Clouds by anne.johnson1 at Garmin Connect - Details , and click "Satellite" at the map for the Google Earth image of our route.
Cheers!

The Stormy 50 Mile Run

Well, I finished my first 50 mile run in Squamish, British Columbia on August 8th. It took me 11 hours and 7 minutes. I was the 9th women in out of 16 and 2:5 in my age group (40-49 year old women). I chose Squamish because of its similarities to Juneau; steep mountains rising out of the sea, an abundance of trails, and a laid back atmosphere with lots of good runners. I'll tell you though, several times during the eleven hours I wondered why I had selected such a mountainous course for my first fifty. The run consisted of three large climbs with the last being the longest and steepest with the least support (one remote aid station at mile 35.5 after a steep climb of 1500 feet). Ninety percent of the runners were locals from Squamish, Vancouver or the Kelowna area. There were only two others from the U.S., a runner from Seattle and one from Arizona.

Here's a quick recap of the race starting with the website warnings:

The Stormy race website warns of having incidents in the past with two common, local predators: bears and cougars.
I've had my share of bear encounters this summer in Juneau, so I wasn't overly concerned; however, cougars are something new. I Googled "cougars attacks," and learned that if you spot a cougar on the trail, you'd better have lots of luck on your side because the animal has been stealthfully stalking you for several miles and you don't have much of a chance. You can try covering your neck (the strike zone) and keeping the cougar in front of you, but truthfully it's all over unless someone off-roading in a Jeep Wrangler pulls up and saves you. With the cougar articles in mind, I purchased a small canister of bear (cougar) spray and carried it during the first hour but gave it to a helper at an aid station once it was light. Why was I running in the dark at all? Since this was my first attempt at 50 miles and there were various cut-off times along the course, I started with the optional early start at 5:00 a.m. In retrospect, I should've started with the bulk of the runners an hour later because after a few miles I pulled ahead and consequently ran for several hours alone in the woods. It would have been peaceful except for the technical uphill climbs, the need to vigilently watch for trail flags, and the constant visions of cougars my brain was manufacturing.

All in all, Stormy was a gorgeous run on single track and logging roads through the lush mountains of coastal British Columbia. Most of the course was through thick woods of mainly spruce and cedar, and every so often the trail would open up into a glorious alpine meadow or serpentine along deep, rocky gorges with views of rapidly flowing water.
There were aid stations every 4 - 10 miles. Each boasted a variety of food typical of ultramarathons. Race day was warm, sunny and humid and given past stomach issues, I stuck to a bit of banana, pretzels and boiled potatoes and washed it down with Coca Cola. After months of training with Energy Bars, GU and spendy electrolyte replacement drinks, I found it rather curious that I couldn't even look at my stash of commercial sports products without feeling a bit sick.In addition to the 50 mile race, there were about 30 runners attempting 100 miles. The 100 milers ran the course twice with the first loop the prior night. It's mystifying how the runners maneuvered the steep single track at night. And, forget the technical trail, I would've been a nervous wreck every time I heard the slightest crack of a twig in the dark forest certain it was a cougar bent on attacking my neck. In addition to the nutty 100 milers, there were also several relay teams each with 8 members. The relay participants were able to maintain a much faster pace, and I felt like I was creeping along as they sprinted past me to towards their hand-off at the next aid station. Despite the difference in pace, I actually felt pretty good until the third climb. It was over 6 miles up a steep logging road and the sun was hot on my back. I'd already run 28 miles at the start of the hill. I was low on water and each time I reached a false plateau, I was crestfallen to discover the gravel road continued upwards. Sigh. My calf muscle was strained and giving me little warning zings. Would this dreadful hill ever end? Finally, I was back on single track weaving through pine trees, and the trail peaked with a gorgeous view of the mountains below. Next I had pleasant down hill in the woods for another six miles. My GPS watch indicated I was approaching 40 miles, and I began to think I was going to finish my first 50 miler. I relaxed a bit and tried to enjoy the thick, verdant woods. I chatted with a runner from Winnipeg who had completed a 50 mile run two weeks earlier and was already back racing. Alone once again, I ran easily down a series of switchbacks towards the aid station, and my partner, at mile 42. Everything was going fairly well despite my calf, when suddenly at mile 41 a large black bear blocked my path. There was very little brush in this area and the trees were quite tall, so visibility was good. The bear jumped when he saw me and ran up two switchbacks after I yelled at him, but he stopped abruptly and turned back towards me. Sitting back on his haunches, he started sniffing, slowly rocking his head side-to-side. I took a deep breath and remembered I had two chunks of potato in my pockets as emergency fuel. "Oh no" he wants my potatoes! As I watched the bear watch me, suddenly I was no longer exhausted but incredibly wide awake and really missing my bear spray. I raised my arms, yelling at the bear and trying to look big. The bear just sat there eyeing me. Unsure of what to do, I continued down the trail, crossing directly under the bear's fall-line. Phew...nothing happened. A quarter of a mile later I passed a runner with blood stains on his knee, limping and leaning on a make-shift crutch from a tree branch. I warned him about the bear, but maybe I should've kept quiet because he was looked dismayed and said the bear would want to eat him because he was "a cripple." Luckily, the woods opened up to the long-anticipated aid station a short time later. Now I was within 8 miles of the finish line. It was mid-afternoon, warm and sunny. I walked and ran to the next aid station, around mile 45. Shortly after the final aid station, I had my last steep climb but it was relatively short. And, yes, I saw another bear in the berry bushes but this bear acted more predictably and scampered off crashing through the brush. I passed a 100 mile runner from Australia. He said he'd been walking the last 20 miles. The trail became sandy and I noticed groups of rock climbers on the rock walls. Finally, I was within two miles of the end. Two young women passed me and spurred me to pick up my pace. I passed them in the last mile and we chatted about how difficult the run was. Five minutes later, I ran across the finish line and received my medal and a ski hat. My partner and I joined the small crowd on the grass, eating grilled chicken and watching the finishers come in. I had completed my goal of 50 miles and was still standing! We returned to sunny weather in Juneau and our energetic puppy.

Here are my Garmin stats. It shows the elevation and click on "Satellite" to get the Google Earth view. Stormy 50 mile run by anne.johnson1 at Garmin Connect - Details
See you on trails, AJ