One of my absolute favorite early summer runs is the roughly 25 mile partial loop route that goes up Green Canyon, over to Mt. Elmer, back along Beirdneau ridge, down the Preston Valley Trail, and back to the mouth of Green Canyon. Now that my duties as co-race director for the Logan Peak Trail Run are largely completed for 2010, yesterday it was time to to go see Elmer.

In the past few years, cyclists, ultrarunners, hikers, YCC members, and forest service trail crews have constructed single-track trail segments that parallel the main forest service road up Green Canyon. It is now possible to travel to the top of Green Canyon almost entirely on single-track trail with only a few hundred yards required on the forest service road. The lower part of Green Canyon is entirely runnable, climbing only 1600 feet in about 5.5 miles to the Wilderness boundary. From there to the top of Green Canyon, the trail becomes much rockier and climbs an additional 2100 feet in a little less than three miles.

With more and more ultramarathon races filling early and with this year's prominent closure or rerouting of several races held on public land, it is time for us to re-evaluate the relationship between ultrarunning and Wilderness.

Like many ultrarunners I am a strong supporter of wilderness (with a little w). Originally I began running long distances on trails as a way to experience spectacular regions of backcountry and wilderness without having to commit large amounts of time and resources (e.g. backpacking). I suspect many other ultrarunners are the same. Over time I discovered that 50 and 100 mile races made this even easier by safely eliminating the need for extensive route logistics and time-consuming caching of food/water/supplies.

There is typically no problem with non-competitive ultrarunning in National Wilderness, and many of us cherish the time we spend running in National Wilderness areas. I will certainly never forget running rim-to-rim-to-rim in the Grand Canyon or running to Indian Pass and back in the Wind River Range or even my many trips across the Mount Naomi Wilderness (though I sometimes question the wisdom in creating a "Wilderness area" that can be crossed in 2.5 hours). I'm sure many other ultrarunners have similar cherished memories of Wilderness trips.

There has however always been a shaky relationship between ultrarunning races and Wilderness (big W). There are widespread misconceptions that the Wilderness Act of 1964 explicitly excludes organized competion. In fact such exclusions (where they formally exist) are contained in federal agency management plans—NOT in the Wilderness Act itself. The Wilderness Act does explicitly exclude commercial enterprise, but allows commercial services "performed for activities which are proper for realizing the recreational or other wilderness purposes of the areas". Under this latter aegis, commercial fishing and hunting guides and outfitters providing pack animals are routinely permitted. Mining and grazing of livestock is also explicitly allowed in the Wilderness Act. Arguably therefore, ultramarathon races which are (mostly) not-for-profit events should not be excluded as commercial enterprises.

Last weekend, I decided it was time to get out for one last, long, high-country run this season. We had already experienced several early snowstorms, but most of the snow had melted below the 8500 - 9000 foot level. With another major snowstorm and cold temperatures predicted for the following Tuesday, it seemed likely that the high country would soon be too inaccessible for distance running. All summer long, I had been wanting to get back to some parts of the old Bear 100 course. This seemed like it might be a good opportunity.

I drove up Cub River canyon to the base of German Dugway. My plan was to run up German Dugway to the top of Paris Canyon and then take the Highline Trail north over into Horseshoe Basin, on to the top of Dry Basin, and then back—about 20 miles round trip, with elevations ranging from 7000 - 8600 feet. By mid-morning it was already a gorgeous day: clear, 28 degrees fahrenheit, and no wind. Climbing up German Dugway, the ground was still nicely frozen, and running conditions were perfect. The vistas to the west were beautiful. I felt strong, and my dog and I made good time. Once we got over onto the Highline Trail, we began encountering mud in places where there had been a lot of recent ATV traffic. I wondered how bad this might get in another two hours.

The portion of Highline Trail that descends from the ridge into Horseshoe Basin is high and north facing. Here there was about six inches of firm, crusty snow, and the running was fantastic! As we reached Horseshoe Basin proper, we began to again encounter places with lots of sloppy, freeze-thaw mud. This continued all the way to the top of Dry Basin, except for about half a mile where the trail winds through a heavily protected forest of pines and firs.

On the return trip the mud was definitely getting worse in places, but overall not too bad. The views were still spectacular, and we flew down German Dugway to the car. The run took just over four hours—not bad considering the mud. It was a great way to end the main running season!

This morning it was time for the annual snow trek to Logan Peak. The run begins and ends at the old quarry half way up Providence Canyon. Participants this year were Ron Stagg, Leland Barker, Scott Datwyler, and myself.

As we headed east up Providence Canyon at 6:30 AM, the creek was flowing over the entire jeep road. Clearly the snow is melting fast! About half a mile further up the road, we hit snow, which continued to the top of the canyon. Although temperatures were in the high forties, the snow in the canyon bottom was good and firm. About halfway up the remainder of the canyon, we encountered a place where an ATV had recently been 'mudding' the side of the canyon. I shot a couple of photos to document this for the Forest Service and the Bear River Watershed Council. 

With the Buffalo Run 50-mile only two weekends away and most trails in northernmost Utah far too muddy, it seemed like a good time to head to Moab for some heat acclimation training. The plan was to run the Gemini Bridges road, Gold Bar Trail, Golden Spike Trail, and Poison Spider Trail—the same route used for the Red Hot Moab 33k.

We arrived in Moab at 9:00 in the morning. After a fortuitous encounter with Chris Martinez at the start of the Gemini Bridges road, my sled dog Chilli and I set off. I began with a 70 oz water bladder and two full 24 oz water bottles.

It was a pleasant 4 mile climb along the Gemini Bridges road. We then turned onto the Gold Bar Trail, which is reasonably easy to follow all the way out to the east overlook. At that point Gold Bar becomes the Golden Spike Trail heading south. Golden Spike is difficult to follow because in many places the 4x4s have cut several different routes to handle difficult terrain. It is often necessary to pursue these different routes some distance to find the marked route.

Somewhere around mile 11, we got off course and ended up covering an additional 6 miles. This occurred at a four-way trail junction where we took a well-marked trail approximately west for about 3 miles. Several times along this route, I checked map and compass bearings. In each case the trail appeared to follow the course indicated on the map for the Poison Spider Trail. Eventually our trail began to turn north, and it was obvious we were not on the correct route. We turned back. There were some nice climbs and descents on slickrock—this section could have been a lot of fun if we hadn't been off course.

Finally we reached the four-way junction again and eventually found the correct (Golden Spike) trail. It didn't hurt to pick up some extra miles, but in retrospect I should have originally taken the time to check all the trail possibilities at the four-way junction.

We continued along the correct Golden Spike trail for about another 1.5 mile before it turned into what was obviously the Poison Spider Trail. Navigation was straightforward along Poison Spider, and the trail eventually spit us out at the trailhead next to the Colorado river.

Overall it was a good training run. There were lots of great views! Temperatures were in the mid seventies, but there were half a dozen pools in the slickrock where Chilli was able to get water.