The rain let up just before midnight as we found the beginning of the trail. We hiked for a short while in the dark and camped out at the first site we came across which was right next to the flowing Slate Run. Up early and after getting off-trail a few times we made our way across the first stream crossing and onto the first ascent. This was a tough climb over 2 miles but we were rewarded with a couple beautiful vistas up on top of the ridge. We stopped at mile 3 of the BFT where there was a spring and refilled our camelbaks and took a break. We continued along the ridge and at some points the trail was overgrown with wild blueberries which were very tempting. Better judgment prevailed and I didn’t eat any.

At roughly mile 5 and again at mile 6 we got a couple spectacular views of the surrounding mountains and valleys. We ate lunch on an exposed ridge at mile 5, and things went downhill quickly from there (both topographically and otherwise!) A few bends around the trail from our lunch spot was where I startled the first of our six rattlesnakes on the trail. I didn’t see them as I passed by but you can not miss the distinctive rattling sound they make. Matt and I hurried forward and from there on out made sure to keep a much closer eye on the trail. The east timber rattlesnake (which I didn’t know existed in Pennsylvania until this hike) apparently isn’t lethal but a bite will still make you pretty sick. It wasn’t too much longer until I actually got to see a couple of these guys – I made a turn around the bend and was right on top of two of them! They looked like black unrolled tires but quickly coiled up and got into their striking positions. Matt and I booked it back the way we came as they rattled at us.

This is where things got goofy. The trail was very narrow, one side  a steep drop and the other a pretty slick vertical – no way around. The rattlers were also out of sight, right around a bend in the trail so we had no idea if they were still there. As we retreated, we came up with progressively funnier and stupider ideas on how to get by these snakes:

1) Climb into our sleeping bags (to protect our legs from bites) and hop on by them like it was a potato sack race

2) Bug spray + lighter = fire shield / clear the path

3) “I just want to get really drunk and run through and not care” – Matt

Luckily, cooler heads prevailed and we just waited a while and nervously rounded the bend to find the trail clear of snakes. This was a pretty nerve racking experience but looking back it was hilarious. At this point the trail begun to drop in elevation pretty quickly and we had to move forward slowly over boulders. I think this descent with a full pack was actually more difficult than the hike up. A little while later we came across a large pool of water near a small waterfall and hopped in to cool off and I felt immediately rejuvenated. One more strenuous uphill 2 miler and we reached our site on Chestnut Ridge – 10 miles out on the BFT. Of course, there was another rattler in the campsite that I offended while getting water, but at this point we didn’t care about them any more. It was late in the evening and a storm was rolling in.

I love thunderstorms, but after what happened on this night, I think I will be uneasy around them for a while. Thunder was rumbling to the north and west at distances of 5-10 miles, which was a little concerning considering we were on a semi-exposed ridge along the top of a mountain. I didn’t pay it too much mind as I ate my Chili Mac and Beef dehydrated meal (my favorite) until a lightning bolt struck the ground right in front of us!! I would say it was no farther than 50 yards away; the sound was deafening and we felt the energy/heat from the blast. Matt and I scrambled into the tent, I definitely had a panic attack, and placed our odds of survival around 50%. A couple other strikes sounded like they were pretty close, but after 30 minutes (which seemed like 30 years) passed the storm let up. I crawled out into the eerie yellow dusk, saw a hint of  blue sky in the distance, and finished my now watered down meal. A pretty bad night of sleep followed and we rose early to make our way back.

We covered the same ground on the way back in half the time. No snake sightings, fewer breaks. After 7 quick miles with 3 to go, we stopped to make lunch. No sooner than the stove was assembled, the beautiful weather turned gray and it started pouring without warning. We were up on a ridge again, and I heard some very distant thunder – too far off to be a problem, but I was done messing around with lightning. No lunch and rain gear on, I set a very quick pace as I wanted to get down to lower ground quickly. We made it back to the trail head in about 5 hours and had a very delicious lunch, climbed into the car, and headed home.

The Black Forest Trail (or the quarter of it that we hiked) was pretty difficult and I wish there had been more time to see more of it. I am definitely looking forward to attempting the whole 42 miles in the fall as it is a beautiful trail in a great spot. You can be damn sure I will be keeping an eye on the forecast next time.

7/26 – Stroudsburg, PA – rendezvous with J.J.

7/27 – Boston, MA – get drunk

7/28 – Mt. Agamenticus, ME – bike / Portland, ME – barefoot truth concert

7/29 – White Mountain National Forest – camp bike hike

7/30 – East Burke, VT – kingdom trails biking

7/31 – Green Mountain Nat’l Forest, VT – recover?

8/01 – Return

Red Rock Canyon, NV: Landed in Vegas on a Friday night and promptly broke my phone and lost a bunch of money at the roulette table. That is a typical Vegas night for yer pal Steve. These unfortunately events were totally redeemed over the next two days as we explored the mind-blowing area that is known as Red Rock Canyon National Conservation Area, just west of Las Vegas. Our first of two day trips was mainly a hike/climb/scramble up and down the hardened sandstone dunes of Calico Hills. Not surprisingly, the rocks all had a reddish color to them. Tons of boulders and peaks to climb that led to great views of the city to the east and mountains further west. There were some descents where I would look back after and think I was crazy for attempting them. Not much else to say besides it was a full day of generous views and physical exertion in one of the more beautiful places I have seen in the southwest.

Day 2 at Red Rocks – Justin and I went on a trail run on the other side of the scenic loop and it was your classic southwestern landscape: yucca plants set against a breathtaking backdrop of peaks. We planned to do an out-and-back run but Justin took a spill and busted up his knee so we hiked back; but not before we found a cool spot with a waterfall. The hike back was nice as I got to take in all the scenery one more time before catching the plane to the airport in Reno en route to Lake Tahoe.

Lake Tahoe, CA: We met up with JJ at the airport and then drove to the cabin in Truckee, CA. The cabin was very nice and we got a great deal on it. We had a full crew of Justin’s classmates, 11 of us total. The first of our three days of skiing was at Squaw Valley USA. This was my first time skiing out west and it can’t be compared to skiing on the east coast. It can take 4x longer to reach the base of the mountain, much less crowded, and spectacular views. The first day was cloudy and freezing but we still had a great time. I kept it to greens and blues because I am still a relatively inexperienced skier, keeping in mind my goal to handle some black diamond terrain by the end of the third day.

Alpine Meadows on the second day. Conditions were much nicer here, the sun was out and we had a great view of the lake from the top. It had snowed all night so I got to ski on fresh powder for the first time. What a difference from the hard as rock ice you find in the Poconos. I was mostly going on runs by myself the second day, exploring the vast terrain Alpine Meadows offers and getting more comfortable with the trails. Later in the day I met up with Justin and JJ and they convinced me to take a black diamond, I think it was called Hot Wheels Chute. Think a long, natural half-pipe with 45-degree angle turns one after the other. Needless to say I was slamming my body all over the place but on the second try I was handling it with little problem. After this full day I didn’t think our half-day coming up could compare, but I was wrong.

We liked Alpine Meadows so much we returned for our third and final day – we only had a few hours since we had a plane to catch to San Diego. Wasting no time, my boys convinced me to pole around the backside of the mountain which was very tough. Our goal was a bowl that consisted of roughly three feet of untouched powder and what was surely black diamond terrain. Justin captured a hilarious video of my drop in (about 4 feet vertical drop) into the bowl. I botched the landing, rolled backward quite a bit and definitely lost my camera there. Oh well. The descent from here was perfect, deep deep powder and no one else in sight. I am so glad that those guys convinced me to go into the backcountry with them. After three beautiful days of skiing on massive peaks, I think I will be a little bored next time I hit the slopes in the Poconos.

Iron Mountain: We spent four days in San Diego which was an epic drunkfest of legendary proportions and not too mention one of the most fun trips I have ever been on. Most of what went down on this trip doesn’t fit into the context of this blog so I will just give a quick recap of our hike up Iron Mountain which is west of San Diego. Justin, Tony, JJ, Scott and myself tackled this cool ~3.2 mile trek up in about eighty minutes. The trail traversed the mountainside for what I believe was about 1000+ feet of elevation gain. The view up top was pretty cool but the visibility wasn’t the greatest this day. We were just able to make out the San Diego skyline and possibly the Pacific. Everyone was hurting from the night of drinking before but once you get on a mountain, you can kind of put that aside. Or at least try to. For the sake of the weak-stomached I will not provide details, but I really had to get back to the bottom of the mountain. Result: mondo, epic, tubular trail run! I got back to the bottom in about 22 minutes and I am sure most people I came across on the trail thought I was out of my mind.

This was one of the most fun weeks of my life. Every time I go on a trip out west I find myself falling more and more in love with it. The openness, the views, the wildlife, the adventures, and the endurance and strength required to reach these things. With this adventure in the rearview, it’s time to start planning the summer trip out to the Pacific Northwest. Here we go…

March 5-14.

Woo.

Ragnar Leg 1  (9.2 miles) :  http://bit.ly/27IK0P and  http://bit.ly/3fBtjQ (lost GPS signal in middle)

Ragnar Leg 2 (4.8 miles) : http://bit.ly/3B5gE1

Ragnar Leg 3 (3.8 miles) :  http://bit.ly/cUyal

Ragnar Leg 4 (8.9  miles) : http://bit.ly/rDpgZ

Total: 26.7 miles

Ragnar was intense. The experience was amazing. My mind and body were pushed to their limits once again. My emotions ran the entire spectrum during the relay – at points I felt like I was on top of the world, hours later I felt like I was going to have a sleep-deprivation-induced panic attack, and then soon again I felt sheer bliss.

The distance relay began in Cumberland, MD and took us 199.3 miles to RFK Stadium in Washington DC. Teams typically consist of 12 people who run three legs each, but our team only had 9 runners so we each picked up an extra leg. Way too much happened to describe here but I will give a rundown of the highlights.

Joe, my brother Mike, Aubre and I left Wilmington Thursday night for Rockville, MD where we met up with the rest of our team and stayed the night. At this point, we still didn’t have any of our legs assigned so Justin crunched some numbers late into the night – figuring out who was running what and when, etc. I was way too excited to fall asleep so I just rested on the couch until 5am when we left for the starting line. My van included myself, Justin, Liz and Aubre. The other van was made up of Mike, Joe, Steve P, Andrew/Henry, and Griffin. Justin kicked things off at the starting line with a goofy ass, “Rocky”-inspired one-two punching combo when our team was announced. We got some tech shirts and freebies and watched Jmo kick things off. I was running the second leg so we headed to the 2nd exchange.

My first leg took me 9.2 miles along the C&O Trail on flat double-track. Perfect way to start off the race as running on the trail first would be easier on the knees and enable me to finish strong in my subsequent legs. Justin and I exchanged and I was off. I had to keep reminding myself to slow down my pace so I wouldn’t burn up all my energy. I ended up keeping it right around a 10 min/mile which had been my goal. The first few miles flew by as I was talking with a couple other runners. As the miles went by I found myself feeling stronger – the complete opposite of how my body usually responds to longer runs. I lost track of my distance after 5 miles – I lost the GPS signal on the Garmin Forerunner watch and with RunKeeper at certain points. Most legs of this race had a sign indicating “One Mile To Go” so I had been on the lookout for that, but this leg did not have the sign so I was surprised to round a bend and see the 3rd exchange just a couple hundred feet ahead. I thought I still had at least 2 more miles to run. I handed the bracelet off to Aubre and her torn hip muscle and off she went. I ended the first of my four legs feeling great and ready for more.

Ragnar Leg 1(a) - http://bit.ly/27IK0P

Ragnar Leg 1(b) – http://bit.ly/3fBtjQ

I didn’t have to run again until after nightfall. Justin ran up a mountain in Paw Paw, West Virginia. Over 8 miles straight uphill. My man is insane. We stopped a few miles up to cheer him on and he was singing “The General” by Dispatch so I knew he was in the Mo-Man Zone. Justin is definitely cut from a different cloth. At the top of the mountain, at the 5th exchange, we were to meet up with the other van for them to take over legs 6-12, but they were nowhere to be found. We had no cell service up there so we were freaking out about there being no runner to take over for Justin. Finally, we got a cryptic text from Joey Boy Gallo: “I am playing mini golf” … I guess we communicated with them just in time – they were down the other side of the mountain at a driving range so they hurried up and met us just in time. Andrew, recovering from possible swine flu, raced down the mountain and met us at the first major exchange (exchange 6) and Joey Boy took over. After driving by Joe on his uphill run, blasting Miley Cyrus to pump him up, and watching him yell obsenities, we headed to grab some food. Justin went all DHM (Dick Head Moses) on the clueless staff at a Sheetz, and we went to the next major exchange (exchange 12) to wait for the other van to finish their legs.

This exchange was located at the Hagerstown Speedway and was quite hilarious. There was a herd of cattle right next to where we were parked – Justin attempted some bovine photography and they responded with some very angry sounding moos. We got some s’mores and as dusk fell, we took the hand-off from van 2.

My second leg was was 4.8 miles and I took the hand-off from Justin around 8:30 pm. Fully equipped with reflective vest, headlamp, and flashing red LED butt light, I ran off into the night. At times all I could see was the 2 feet in front of me and the safety gear of runners far ahead of me. I took this one at a faster pace a little over 8:30 min/mile – probably not the best idea since I had another leg just a few spots later. I mostly ran along a highway and then entered a small town. That’s all there is to really say about this one – pretty uneventful.

Ragnar Leg 2 – http://bit.ly/3B5gE1

At this point, exhaustion was kicking in. I had not slept at all the night before so I was pushing over 40 hours without a wink. I only had 2 legs off until my third leg, which was an extra I was making up since our team was shorthanded. I took the hand-off from Liz (I think?) at 10:10 pm and scampered off for what should have been an easy, slow, 3.8 mile night run. Instead, in my delirium, I ran as fast as my sore and tired legs would allow and about halfway through noticed a sharp pain developing in my left heel. This pain got worse the further I went but I had no choice but to keep going. I arrived at the exchange and honestly don’t even remember who I handed off too. Andrew maybe. Our van was off to the next major exchange and while my brain entered the gates of oblivion.

Ragnar Leg 3 – http://bit.ly/cUyal

I didn’t have the foresight to pack a sleeping bag, a crash pad, or any warm clothing for this race. Same went for the rest of my teammates. Our only option for sleep was to try to get as comfortable as possible in our van (mission: impossible). Sleep deprivation is nothing to mess with. I found myself lying on the floor of the van, shivering and sweating at the same time, and thinking/speaking gibberish. I heard my own voice in my head talking to me about “the dancing chicken nuggets being unhappy with such poor customer service” and I had to pee every 20-30 minutes. Knowing that I had to be up to run 8.9 miles in a few hours, I was super stressed about grabbing at least a couple hours of sleep. The combo of this worrying and not being comfortable killed any hope of sleep. I was also nervous about running with the pain in my foot, I wasn’t sure if it was just a mild strain or something more serious. It hurt to put weight on it. Pretty sure I had had a panic attack while wedged between the driver’s seat and sliding door. It was a pretty rough night to say the least. Justin was off a little after 4 am for his last run, an 8+ miler through rolling farmland.

I took the hand-off from Justin a little before 6 am and it was still dark out. I was running with a definite limp, putting most of the weight on my right foot, and honestly don’t remember much about the first couple miles. I ran into a beautiful sunrise which helped to improve my mood but things with my foot were just getting worse. I was determined to finish my last 8.9 miles – I had been training for this for half a year and wasn’t about to let anything less than a severed limb stop me. This leg was mostly uphill and I just set my body to slowly trudge up the hills. My van was waiting for me around the halfway mark and I took one of my water bottles – at this point I was trading hydration in for less weight. I ran by a McDonald’s and the smell of Egg McMuffins tortured me – if I had any cash on me I probably would have stopped in there. My mp3 player died with less than a mile to go. This was the only leg I used the iPod for and my mixture of inspirational sports music (Rocky theme song) and hardcore/punk (Comeback Kid, Bane, Boy Sets Fire) kept me going. I spotted the “One Mile To Go” marker and ramped it up. This was the longest mile in history – it felt like it took me an hour. On the crest of a hill, I mentioned this to a face volunteer, and he told me that all I had left was 400 feet downhill. I flew down this hill like a maniac, handed off to Aubre, and was done! The team still had another 8 or so hours of running until Washington DC, but my individual legs were complete. I uttered some gibberish to Justin and Liz, and off we were to the remaining exchange points.

Ragnar Leg 4 -http://bit.ly/rDpgZ

53+ hours of no sleep and somehow I was feeling OK. Liz had the final leg, 7 miles through Washington DC to the finish line at RFK Stadium. It had started to rain and as we saw her appear we all mobbed her and ran through the finish line together. This may have been the hardest run of them all! I was limping around – my calves and quads were super tight. We got our medals, which double as bottle openers (nice touch) and we downed some pizza. I had a Sam Adams and can honestly say it was the best tasting beer I have ever had. Fought through some traffic and got home and passed out around 10:30 pm – 62 hours after the last time I had slept a wink.

The Ragnar Relay was one of the toughest experiences of my life so far and I can not wait to do another. My next big run is the Philly Half Marathon on November 22, so hopefully I can get this foot squared away and pick up training again in a week or so. I had a blast with and can’t thank my eight teammates enough! 199.3 miles, woo!

What is going to make things a little more unpredictable is the fact that our team that stood 12 strong just a week ago has now dwindled to somewhere between 8-9 runners, meaning those of us who remain will be making up those extra 45-50 miles. Of those who remain, some are dealing with nagging injuries or illnesses. I am feeling good physically besides a shin splint but I am sure by the end of this race I will have plenty of injuries to share with my fellow teammates.

We are leaving tomorrow evening to meet up in Rockville, MD where we will spend the night and divide up our relay legs before heading to the start line on early Friday. I will be using RunKeeper Pro to track my progress and also be updating my twitter and this blog as long as my phone stays charged.

Ragnar Relay Series – Washington DC

twitter.com/papastevsie

On the walk back we had a brief stop where Justin turned into Dr. Chaos. Then we went to the car to get the harmonicas and guitar so we could have a 3am jam session in the room. Somehow along the way, a bum caught Justin’s soft side to the tune of six bucks. And then, to quote Current Swell, “everything was going just as planned until” two drunk dudes out front of the hotel had a major issue with us (yer pal might have laughed at the one guy who fell down from being too drunk). Luckily, Justin and I let cooler heads prevail among us (translation, Justin has two bum shoulders and I was in puke-mode) so a full-fledged street brawl was avoided. Probably a good thing since these guys were definitely ninjas (or at the very least, black belts) and there were cops all over. It was pretty funny though to see the cops haul off these dudes (yer pal may have called 911).

Needless to say, the jam session did not happen but I did sing the blues to JMo as we drifted off to sleep. Woke up the next morning feeling like HELL, which was appropriate because our drive home would actually take us through Hell (Western PA/Pittsburgh area – home of the world’s shittest fan base) and a jammed up Route 70. Long drive to Tori’s back in Frederick, MD to get my car. Jmo and I said our quick goodbyes, fully expecting to never see one another again. (I’m getting lazy, I just ripped that right out of my blog from last summer). Couple more hours to arrive in Wilmington at 8:30. Thursday morning: Colorado; Sunday night: Rodney Square. Woo!

No sentimental post-trip recap post this time. I already got all emotional in my post about the 14er.
Next summer: Pacific Northwest? British Columbia? Seattle, Olympic, Oregon, Glacier? Stay tuned, and if I do anything interesting before then, maybe I’ll post it here.

Peace

First we set out to finally get Chicago pizza, which was IMPOSSIBLE last summer. We went back to a brewery/pizzeria called Piece where we drank last year. Got our pizza (it rocked) and each left with a 64 oz. growler of Golden Arm brew. After a nightmare parking situation in which Jmo somehow managed to keep his cool, we hit the hostel and consumed (most) of the contents of our growlers. We immediately felt like bloated pieces of crap.

Next mission: find Rock Bottom, a bar we missed last year that was named after our good chum Joey Boy John “Rock Bottom” Gallo. We promised him a picture. Oops. We found it but missed the photo op on the way in due to exploding bladders and missed it on way out again due to our funny new friends we met inside. Sorry pal, we will just have to get the shot next year.

Took a long cab ride to Lincoln Park and went to Goodbar. Ran up a gargantuan tab with watered down tequilla shots. Quote of the night by Justin: “Last call can’t come any faster”.

4 mile walk back to the Hostel. Stop at Pita Pit. Funny pictures with rando’s on the sidewalks. Took a cab the last 3 miles straight to the BP gas station. This was my Mecca. Last year, I chowed down on the best damn convenience store microwavable cheeseburger there. Another tradition continued as Justin used his photography skills to capture the moment: papastevsie sitting on the curb enjoying lukewarm deliciousness.

Back in our hostel (aka freshman year dorm room) my roomate and I were ready to pass out after another fun night in Chi-Town. First I downed the remnants of the growler, because as Justin says, I am a man who hates waste. Goodnight, Cleveland tomorrow.

My friend from high school (and possibly middle school, we’re not sure) Steph moved out to Nebraska and I hadn’t seen her since graduation and it was awesome to meet up with her. First we grabbed some dinner at Famous Dave’s and a guy down the bar who was drinking alone ripped a juicy fart and then tried to talk to me about it. I ignored him but privately admired his boldness.

Down the street was where we met up with Steph and her crew at Old Chicago. A bunch of cool people and they showed us the Old Market district. First stop was Upstream, a local brewery with a sweet rooftop deck. Good drinks but the service was slow and my man spilled a drink on me.

From there we went to The Dubliner (road trip crew always at the Irish pubs). The guy playing guitar was playing Tenacious D hits, much to our amusement. The bartender was drunk and tried to make us Irish car bombs with vermouth but Justin corrected him. More on the car bomb front, we learned that Steph didn’t know how to drink one. We corrected that as well.

Highlight of the bar was a couple of young lovebirds who were making out all over the place. Being the mature young adults that we are, we secretly photographed ourselves in front of the great romance, complete with thumbs up, etc.

It was great catching up with Steph and hopefully I will be able to hang with her and Joe in ‘ol Delaware next week when they come to visit.

Back to the hotel. Justin and I had been told it was not set in the greatest area so we pretended to be terrified (sprinting to the door, pressing elevator buttons rapidly, furiously locking the door, looking for the do not disturb sign). I think you had to be there. My man was also seamlessly inserting some melodious toots with his scaredycat act. Next was a little 2am Oregon Trail on the computer in which Justin set a grueling pace with meager rations. Somehow everyone survived the game except for our good pal Joey Boy, who succumbed to a mixture of dysentery and cholera. Sorry Joe and we miss ya.

Next up: Chicago round two