The Epic

by olga varlamova

  Why is that there are some people amongst us that are never satisfied
with what is relatively easy, or even relatively difficult, and want to make it more of a challenge? Why is it some people are contempt watching TV, some play team sports with their neighbors, some decide to run marathons, and then many of them, and then yet there are people who turn to rugged trails and go longer distances? Well, even the last  mentioning is not enough for James Varner, Vasque ultra team member, who strives on unsupported adventure runs in the wilderness. He had come up with the idea of sharing this challenge with his fellow trail ultra runners (or anybody who’d like to give it a try) and created the course of the first of a series Epic runs. They are supposed to be hard. Yet most importantly - they are supposed to be fun. And provide you with great training for whatever your next goal is.

  Hence Epic run  #1. The 31M route in the Olympics park, WA, had 12,000 feet elevation GAIN (bear in mind, you have to come down that very same 12,000 feet), ascending 3 mountains. Sounds exactly like fun I would be looking for.

  Friday night I dropped for a sleep over at John Pearch’s  place, James’ teammate, friend and RD of a few local trail ultras.  John had a knee surgery recently and wasn’t going to join us, but (and that is what this kind of people do) had offered an improvised aid station in his car for the run. So much for unsupported  Did I mention how much I loved that idea? And John for being there after every mountain descend? Anyway, the three of us watched “Touching the void” (and it turned out to be THE movie to watch) and had a late night. Of course, in the morning I had to get my coffee, then we picked up Kyle (the freshly developed local ultra star, young and super fast, and the kindest kid I’ve met) and Dan, not [yet]an ultra guy.  Packed in the car, we made it to the first mountain - Ellinore, 6,000 feet, 6.2M to the top, 5,000 feet gain. Pictures taken, packs strapped and extra shirt tied around the waist, off we went. Sure, easier written than done. The ascend is quite gentle at first, even I jogged it once in awhile, but then became steeper and steeper, turning into serious hiking climb. Soon the snow
appeared seemingly out of nowhere (I don’t know, why I was so urprised?
It’s February in Northwest at the elevation ) And made surroundings
picturesque. Quiet, with pine trees, cloudy sky - you can only hear the snow crust breaking under the foot steps. Soon the trail disappeared and we hit a real climb, pitching from rock to rock, along the stream. It’s gotten pretty cold, especially as we left the gully into the open. The wind blew fully unaware of our presence (or was it exactly because of that?). Scrambling higher, I wondered how will we get down, when James as if he heard my thoughts, told me about Kyle and his similar adventure and sliding down the snow ravines on their rear. Hmmm, can’t say I was enthusiastic about this idea. I don’t like heights. And I am wearing running shorts. The snow became deeper, the climb steeper and finally I saw all three of them - Kyle, James and Dan - standing at the top of the Ellinore right in front of my nose. I looked around and gasped for air. It was high. The views were awesome  Despite tight clouds and wind you can see drops of snowy mountains around and it felt like real deal (this is where the movie from previous night
comes to mind). I wish it would have been just “a bit” warmer so I could enjoy it longer, but the whole body was shivering, and we started our descent. The boys hit the snow with their behinds right away, no hesitation. I though for a second. Then tried to make a step to get down - and fell right on my butt, scooting through the snow with the speed of my scream. Gawd, it was fun  Get up, make a step - fall again. Repeat as many times as you wish, trying to feel if your bump hasn’t frozen completely yet. When we finally reached the place you could safely put your feet down, we met up with 3 guys, looking seriously mountaineering a.k.a. fully clothed and with ice axes. We chatted for a couple of minutes, and of course I highly recommended for them to drop their tools AND their pants for more fun.

  Hitting running ground after all the snow and rocks, we went full stride down. Turning feet like crazy and speeding up every switchback, we laughed and played catch. Surely, Kyle and James eventually stopped being polite and took off to try and make it down in time for a total of 4 hrs round trip. Dan and myself tried to keep up for quite a while, but on the last mile I found a few little hills that I justified as walking breaks, and we leisurely entered our famous Aid Station at John’s. He was certainly excited to see us all. We changed, repacked, regrouped, left Dan (as he had enough for the first time) and took off on the road to our next adventure - up to the Rose trailhead. 3 miles of that road proved to be boring and not restful at all. Another short chat with John as he drove his car to the that place - and we went on even more relentless hike to 4,300 feet top, gaining 3,500 feet in 3 miles or so. But - this climb provided us with best weather of the
day as the clouds broke and the sun came out. It was absolutely magnificent. I wish James, who mercifully hung out with me, wouldn’t push it so hard, and I could look around some more. Just kidding. It was great. Talking was quite difficult though. At the top our speedster Kyle was waiting for us, freezing himself for the last 15 minutes or so. We looked from the view point at all the mountain range, saw a beautiful lake, a high sky, and has it not being getting late, I wouldn’t have moved from there. There was also a bird on the tree there that was probably spoiled by hikers as it tried to steal food from our hands. We ran along the ridge for a bit and turned to downhill,
taking switchbacks and stairs and all the pounding onto our precious thigh muscles. Did I say how great the footing was? Covered with pine needles, it was soft and pleasant. Banned the steep grade.

  And again, John was at the end of the trail, telling jokes and helping us get ready for yet another, final ascent. Kyle running and John in his car decided to race and took off, James and I jog-walking the road. My one and only, the favorite stress fracture decided to back-talk to me, and I got a bit scared. Roads are brutal  We found an entrance to the park and went looking for a Wagonwheel trail head, a 4,000 feet peak, just over 3,000 feet gain in 3 miles. Not as steep I guess as the one before. But we were getting tired (somehow “we” never included Kyle. I don’t know what this guy is made of, but he is something ). And James and I missed a trail and went too far into the park Not far enough to get mad. Not that it would ever get me mad.
Luckily, he quickly realized it and we turned around, found John and Kyle waiting for us, and started on up. Despite being out there for, oh, I don’t know, may be 8 hours by then, I felt great. Aching, but great. I started chatting my mind away. James being a great listener kindly let me blubber. I think he knows about me and Russia now more than he ever intended. Our wonderful youngster dropped some power bars and gels for us at half-way and as we neared the turn-around point at the Wagonwheel lake, we saw him coming
down. He also gave us a warning about crossing a recent small avalanche
field and encouraged to pass it fast. Yeah, right, fast. The snow was deep, the crust was sharp to the skin, and the hands didn’t want to touch anything to provide any kind of stability, what lead to more falls than anticipated. We made our way quietly, and as soon as James mention that it is getting dark - it did, suddenly. At the lake we stood for a moment, looking at the moon, then retrieved our steps back. The sky was covered with stars. Again and again I was noticing how many more stars are on the west coast sky compared to the East I came from. Coming back was slow, much slower than I wanted it to be. My knees got swollen, and walking (forget running, especially in the dark, even though carrying a hand light) was quite painful. Poor James got stuck with my shuffle. I tried to entertain him by telling more stories (may be that was even more painful?). As we finally got back to the car, the clock showed 11 and half hours of continuos moving. 50km. 11:30. A new Personal Best:) You should try it.

  What do I remember about this Epic run the most? I remember the soft
trees around, the quiet forest. I remember the cold wind and not giving up to it. I remember sledding on my butt down the steep snow slope, scared and having a blast. I remember hiking up out of breath and enjoying the feel of a working heart. I remember the views, the stars and the bird. But mostly - I remember John, who spent the whole day in the car, waiting for our showing up for a few minutes so that we can replenish our supply. And Kyle, who waited for us at the top freezing and leaving us food. And James, who didn’t leave me alone and was contempt to keep at my pace however slow it was, filling my bottles at the stream and being a great company. I remember being surrounded by love of pure nature. And that could have kept me going for much longer...