Rock Springs Junior High School

Run Time: 61:00 + 2-minute kick

Hello, Altitude, my old friend. The first of four runs in Wyoming, South Dakota, and Nebraska. The high altitude applies mostly to Wyoming. This was also the hottest of the runs, but some clouds moved in and made it rather pleasant.

The school was less than a mile from the hotel, and less windy as well. A brand new track surface – no lane lines, markings, or numbers. It definitely added spring to the step. A few locals were out working on their soccer skills. The artificial surface football field looked new too. The neighborhood looked a little weatherbeaten, as does much of Wyoming.

The drive from Denver to Cheyenne to Rock Springs was surprisingly green. A resident of Casper told me later in the week that there has been more rain in the late spring and early summer than normal. Wyoming is not this green at this point of the summer normally, he said. It was a welcome surprise. The sage green of the grass was stunningly beautiful.

I like the challenge of the altitude. I like the feeling of the lungs being forced into turbo mode. It clears the mind, IMHO. Breathing hard is meditative. And I like the dry high desert air, with some wind, which dries up your sweat almost right after the body releases it. I like the feeling of sun on skin, though I kept my shirt on for this run. No need to subject others to that.

The transition from the gate to the baggage claim to the rental car center at the Denver Airport took much longer than expected, so I missed my planned sales visit in Rock Springs. I had planned to visit one place that afternoon, then two more the following morning. I adjusted and made it 3 the next morning, and it all worked out. Rock Springs looks better in the morning. I felt better in the morning. Summer is for mornings and evenings.

As I walked back to the hotel, I passed a man watering his lawn, with his dog – a puppy – unleashed. The dog followed me. Then the neighbor’s dog followed me. Then we had two Rock Springs citizens trying to corral their dogs who wanted to go for a walk, evidently, because they were not allowing their owners to turn them around. I finally had to stop so that they could catch up with the dogs, who both gave me a disappointed look as they walked away.

Tukwila Interurban/Green River Trails

Run Time: 60:28 + 2-minute kick

This was a great day all around. I hit all 5 of my sales stops and had quality visits, plus made it to 3 more optional stops. It was one of those perfect summer days in the Northwest – 75 degrees, sunny, light breeze. Rain earlier in the week had left all of the foliage clean and crisp. I drove with the window down for stretches. Glorious.

I stayed at the Courtyard by Marriott, which was clean and beautiful and new, a far cry from the America’s Best Value Inn in Kelso, where I stayed the night before. The Tukwila Interurban Trail ran right behind the hotel. Just what we want. It snaked around and under a freeway, where the smell of urine was strong, but then it met the Green River Trail and stayed away from the rush hour traffic.

I ran past soccer fields and industrial yards and mud banks and blackberry bushes. Ah, blackberry bushes, my old friend. It was good to see you again. I have spent much of my life in close proximity to blackberry bushes. As a kid we used clippers and hockey sticks to slash tunnels in the berry bushes in the field below our house. When the berries ripened, we’d pick them at their sweetest plumpness, and my mom would bake blackberry pies. I got many, many scratches from blackberry bushes. The thorns have some kind of natural defense nastiness to them that reddens the welts and reminds you to take care when you mess with them.

Blackberries are a nuisance plant, and they will grow quickly right where you just cleared some other brush, or where there has been a fire. In the 1930s and 1940s there were 3 major forest fires in the Tillamook Forest in Oregon, and it basically burned 200 square miles of old growth timber to the ground. My dad was a kid then, and they would go up into the mountains after the fire, and he said they were covered in blackberry bushes. By the time I was hunting elk with him in 1976, that forest was mature again and looked like it had been like that for years. One of my favorite places in the world, the Tillamook Forest. Nothing like it.

Maybe the Olympic Peninsula on the other side of the Puget Sound is lot like the Tillamook Forest. I’ve never been there. You can be out walking in the Tillamook Forest for a half-hour, an hour-and-a-half drive from a large city, and you will look around and know that no human being has ever stepped right where you are stepping that moment. Maybe someone from the Chinook Tribe 400 years ago, but even then probably on the trail nearby and not between the cedar and the fir you’re walking between, ducking under the old hemlock log that fell and created a root crater fifteen feet deep.

I just got the email with the link to the drawing results for hunting elk in Michigan (I did not draw a tag). There is a large elk herd in Michigan, maybe 1000 elk, they think. In Oregon, there are probably a 1000 elk harvested by hunters every year. Hunting elk in Michigan is basically a once in a lifetime thing. If you draw an either sex tag and do not shoot a bull, you can apply again 10 years later. If you draw a bull only tag, that’s it for life. No more applying, even if your hunt is unsuccessful. In Western Oregon, most of the hunting units are still wide open, non-draw. I could fly to Oregon the day before elk season, buy an out-of-state license and tag, and hunt elk the next day. And I might.

One of the coolest things about the Tillamook Forest is that the mountains are killers – steep, crumbly, majestic – and yet the highest elevation in the Forest is under 4000 feet above sea level. From the top peaks and ridges on a clear day, you can look west and see the Pacific Ocean. Some of the canyons look like they go below sea level. When you’re in the bottom of one and have to climb your way back out, on a cold, windy, rainy day in November, you find out the true nature of your physical and mental ability and endurance.

The elk can be hard to find in Western Oregon. They are there, but there is ample cover. I have hunted for an entire four-day elk season and not seen a single elk. Multiple times. In nearly 40 years of elk hunting there, I have taken five bulls. I am not culling the herd by any means. The herd is culling me. I hunt alone a lot, which my wife does not like. As I get older, the danger of being out in the woods alone grows. I am aware of that. I am more careful about where I step and how far I wander.

What does all this have to do with the Tukwila Interurban Trail? Not a whole hell of a lot. I could blather on about elk hunting in the Tillamook Forest for 200,000 words if you’re up to it. Let’s go!

Sunrise Ridge Park

Run Time: 60:26 + 2-minute kick

I finally found the nice slice of Surrey. My previous trips here have unimpressed. I could not tell by looking at the phone map that the greenspace with the trail was a higher elevation than the houses on either side. The word “Ridge” should have given me a clue, but I like the surprise of veering away from conclusion.

What they did here was build a park under power lines. Genius. Every power line in the world should have a pathway park running under it, with native grasses and flowers and shrubberies. I can do without the asphalt, but as long as there is grass or dirt alongside that you can run on, I can live with it. And whoever is making money from either the building or the operating of the power lines should be paying to build and maintain the park. How do we make this happen? Where is Robert Moses when you need him?

The sidewalk run from the hotel up to the park was a steep incline – great to get the blood flowing. The ridge crested at the road I was on, so we had a long mildly sloping run to the southeast, and a shorter moderately sloping run to the northwest. I did one, then the other. A good mix of uphill and downhill. Bunnies scampered along the trail at all points. Families and friends walked, bike, and ran up and down the trail from the many access trails connecting the affluent adjacent neighborhoods.

I suppose it is possible that the power lines are sending out toxic vibrations that are altering the genetic material in our cells, but if we have to have them, we might as well spruce them up a little. I heard no electric humm or buzz, but then again, I had the headphones on with the music turned up, so there might be audible emissions.

I ferried across to Vancouver Island earlier this day to visit a distributor. Riding the ferry is always a welcome interruption – you cannot do a whole lot while on the ferry. I read a little, listened to a little podcast, napped a little in the car. Even on a ferry you can feel the motion of currents and swells, and the tip of the ferry as it makes a turn. It is the feeling of being held. Not like a hug, but being held completely off the surface, which is a comforting feeling.

Come on, America. Get off your ass and build some power line parks.

North Middle School

Run Time 60:24 + 2-minute kick

My semi-annual west coast swing. Flew through Dallas to Seattle. You really see the different ends of the chaos spectrum visiting Grand Rapids, Dallas, and Seattle airports all in the same day. Flying out of Grand Rapids is like levitating from a zen garden compared to landing in Seattle. The trip to baggage and to the rental car bus and to the rental car center was like one leg of the hike from Rivendell to Mordor.

I have inclined toward running from the hotel recently, especially since I now walk first then run. When I hit the 60-minute mark in total time, it meant I had a very short walk before the kick, so I changed the walk times to 9 minutes recently. So for this session, it was 9 walk, 10 run, 9 walk, 10 run, 9 walk, 10 run, 3:24 walk, 2 kick. Plus, I have settled into a 170 lb. status, and I would rather be closer to 160, so I am going to tilt the emphasis back to running and away from walking, though I will keep them close so that I do not create heart issues. Also, it needs to be 5 days a week, not 4 or 3.

This school was about a mile away from the hotel, so that works. The track was a unique size and shape. Soccer practice for some elementary grade kids was going on next to the track, and the rain was on and off. It was nice – the cool and the rain. It was the end of a long day – up at 5 am eastern for the 7:30 first flight, at the hotel at 5 pm western and then the run. I stopped at a market on the way to the hotel and bought bananas, cookies, chips, cold fried chicken, potato salad, and pasta salad. All of my road snacks for the week, plus 2 dinners and 1 lunch with the chicken and salads.

It was not Virgenia Ave. It was Virginia. It was a mis-etching.

Centennial Trail

Run Time: 60:08 + 2-minute kick

What I have seen of Ogden is not the garden spot of Utah. It is more like the weed patch. Actually, there is a lot of Utah that looks pretty rundown close up. What I saw on this run might actually be some of the best of Ogden. The Weber River is picturesque, but it was running high and had recently run over its banks and made a mess of the east bank.

The high water level created obstacles to my run. The paved Centennial Trail ran along the river for miles, but it dipped low to go under a railroad trestle, and that section was flooded. There were actually muddy footprints – multiple sets – coming out of the dip. So someone had been wading through with restricted headroom above the water level.

A wetlands trail circled away from the main trail, so I tried taking that, but even the wetlands had a high wetness level and blocked the primary loop. I tried a side trail which unfortunately crossed through an active archery range. I did not hear the swish of arrows coursing through the air, nor did I see any stray arrows, so I think I was safe.

West of the trail was a grassy knoll – more of a tall grass than a lawn grass. I found a trail coming down that, so I followed it. The view was way better. It also felt more organic than running along the asphalt trail that followed the big muddy.

At the end of the run, I sat down on some bleachers in the park to watch some youth baseball. Probably 4th graders. Parent and coach intensity was high. I actually heard a mom yell, “Come on guys, stay positive. If you don’t, you will lose.” I hoped, in my heart, that I never sounded like the one coach who shamed one of his players for striking out.

A lot of driving on this trip, almost all interstate, which wears on the senses. I was burnt out before this run, but glad I ran, because I was less burnt out when I finished. A thunderstorm around Tremonton invigorated me, but only temporarily. The thunderstorms forecast for the evening never materialized, at least not where I was.

Back to the Salt Lake City airport in the morning, onto a flight to Denver, then on to home. One of maybe five people on either jet with a mask. It is a small inconvenience. To be honest, I have never felt comfortable being so close to so many people.

Bonneville Shoreline Trial: Hellspot Tower

Run Time: 60:06 + 2-minute kick

Back to the altitude. Life elevated, indeed. A sunny, beautiful Memorial Day. Too many people at the trailhead, but none of them went to this trail, which just ran along the feet of the mountain range, just above the houses. I could not figure out what they meant by shoreline until I realized they meant that this spot a few hundred feet above the valley floor might have been the shoreline of the ancient Lake Bonneville.

Most everyone was headed up the canyon to a network of trails. One group was wearing hardhats – not sure exactly what they had planned. They did not appear to have rock climbing gear. I guess there is sufficient danger from falling rocks to warrant looking goofy.

I had planned to return the following afternoon to explore some of the canyon trails, but after a long day of driving down to Cedar City to visit two distributors there after a visit to the dentist for a cleaning and a filling, I just stayed at the hotel and recuperated.

The “shoreline” trail was not long enough for my run. I ended up going back and forth. The first section was wide, with a cliff-like drop-off. It had a Wile Coyote vibe. Then the trail split, with a narrow path staying level, and an old cat road heading uphill.

The cat road had a crazy climb up a sidehill and over the point, so steep that it was hazardous just to walk it. I kept a good pace up it on the way out, and the slope was not quite so bad on the other side. On the way back, I was able to run all the way up the incline, but I had to pick my way down the edge of the road going back down the steep side.

A fork in the cat road angled back uphill, so I took that, and it wound back around the next point and down to the main trail. Then I ran out the lower footpath, which followed an old irrigation ditch.

They are always trying to build further up the west side of the Wasatch Mountains, which are quite erosive, if you ask me. It gives you a decent view, but Utah is a flash-flood state, which I was reminded of a couple times on this trip, when I got caught in thunderstorms while driving.

The real view, in my opinion, is from the valley floor, looking up at the mountains. Why you would want to be at the base of the mountain, looking down at the square miles of houses, with the lakes in the hazy distance, rather than down in the valley with a view of the snowy peaks, is beyond me.

I really appreciate mountains, now that I live in Michigan. I loved running around the wetlands by our house in Santaquin, with the mountains only a few miles away when we lived here. There are few places I have seen with such an abrupt transition from valley to mountain range. The Salt Lake valley might be the most impressive.

Next time I will head up into the canyon and see if I can dodge the falling rocks.

Billings Senior High School

Run time: 59:46 + 2-minute kick

Two visits in two weeks to Billings. This run was not nearly as picturesque as the first. Different hotel, different part of town, different run route. The school was a mile or so from the hotel, which was downtown. The track had some wear to it, but you know, that pretty much describes all of Billings.

The hotel was the Dude Rancher Lodge, and it had some character. An actual metal key, real ceramic coffee cups in the room, a raised rafter ceiling in the floor 2 room, table and chair in place of a desk and roller chair. But the shower and bathroom sink were new, and the price was very reasonable. Two thumbs up.

I tried running stairs at the track, but the cement grandstand was crumbly, uneven, and perhaps formed by early Western settlers. I had a few near falls on the way down the first set, so I stayed on the track for the rest of the running and got on the stairs only for walking. Cement is unforgiving – I have found that out before.

This was the last night of a 2-week trip which began here in Billings, circled west across Montana, up through Alberta, over to Saskatchewan, and back down to Billings. I visited approximately 50 distributors, prospects, and end users. We added some business and hopefully laid the groundwork for adding more. The weather was sometimes great, sometimes cooler and rainy, but way better than taking on this region in January.

I walked a few blocks to get a Jimmy Johns sub, and there was an old movie theater playing vintage movies. Mrs. Doubtfire was playing that evening. The poster with coming attractions included some interesting gems: The Adventures of Robin Hood (animated), Terminator, Terms of Endearment, Strange Brew, Badlands, School of Rock, Mary Poppins (original), The Crow, Tommy, The Umbrellas of Cherbourg, and Newsies.

I got a fair amount of running in on this trip, as much as I would have at home, if not more. Which is important – I do not eat healthy on the road. I do not overeat, but I eat fast food and tasty snacks. Plus, it is essential for my mental and spiritual health to run. If I am not feeling great, it means I either need to eat, poop, sleep, or run. Sometimes 2 or 3 of those.

Thank you, Montana. Can’t wait to come back. I will miss you.

Campbell Collegiate High School

Run time 59:44 + 2-minute kick

This was another forgettable run. I literally forgot to take any photos while running. First of all, this was no Lethbridge. There was nothing picturesque about the locale. I exited the back of the hotel parking lot, went through a dingy neighborhood that looked as if it had not yet recovered from winter, entered the school property from a grassy alley, and found no track to run on, so I ended up just running up and down the alley and several times around a soccer field.

There was just nothing worth visually documenting. Plus, I was a little punchy from a couple of days of long driving and staying up late working. I got my run in – that was the important part.

My wife did request that I document something I saw in Regina, however. When our two older kids were in high school, there was an ad hoc game every spring called “The Water Games.” My older son reports that it was a play on “The Hunger Games.” Participants were assigned targets anonymously, and then to eliminate their target, they had to get them with a water gun. It became a very elaborate affair, with people hiding outside people’s houses, and sometimes colluding to trap someone in a vulnerable situation.

When I pulled into a gas station in Regina to fill my rental car, a young man who was filling up his car suddenly ran out into the street with a water gun and started emptying it into the open window of a car stopped in the turn lane. There was laughter and merriment, and then the young man returned to his car and finished filling it up. I could only surmise that they were engaging in their version of The Water Games.

My wife wanted me to document it because I was telling her how unimpressed I was with Canadian cities, and then I told her this story, and she pointed out that a young man, a person-of-color, ran out into the street with a fake gun and started shooting it at someone, and no one shot him with a real gun. So I guess Canadian cities do have something of value to offer, perhaps.

Coulee Trail Loop

Run time: 59:42 + 2-minute kick

A hidden gem in the Canadian prairie. As soon as I saw the terrain on the satellite photo, and the trails on the All Trails map, I knew this would be good running. The hotel was right at the upper border of these ridges that run down to the river – a perfect location for the travelling runner.

The trails were fantastic – hard-packed dirt with sandy red sediment on top. They ran down all the ridges, with beautiful staircases built for the steepest sections. The drop-off down to the park below was dramatic. Between the ridges were narrower trails with switchbacks.

The real attraction was the scenery. The river valley was spectacular. You had a sense of the natural forces of land formation, of erosion and wind, of the age of the land. Our presence here is a mere blip on the chart. For all of the harm and disruption we have caused, when we are gone the evidence of our existence will inevitably wear away.

One thing that might last awhile is this railroad trestle. It is truly impressive. How the hell did we make something so magnificent and durable so long ago that looks like it will be here longer than any paved roadway? All I could think of is how vulnerable one might feel crossing it, even on a train. It gets really windy in the Canadian prairie.

One difficulty on a run like this is keeping a consistent pace when you want to stop every two minutes to take a photo. I try to take photos only when I am walking, but I do not always retrace steps, so it is sometimes necessary to stop the run. This was a great run because of the elevation changes. Running up through the switchbacks was invigorating.

I hope the Lethbridgeans appreciate what they have here in this trail system. Beyond the trestle there were private property signs, but the trail keeps going. Of course it does. How could anyone claim ownership of place? Talk about hubris.

There is a tendency to think that progress is always moving forward. When I see what engineers designed and people built in 1909, with seemingly less technology and fewer resources, I wonder if we are truly doing something better now. If we are, I am not seeing it. But then, maybe I am not looking in the right place.

University of MT Helena College

Run Time 59:38 + 2-minute kick

Somehow I jumped right over Helena when I wrote the Great Falls post. Something about the Helena run was forgettable, apparently. Oh yes, it was on a dirt track. Yes, dirt. So not so much forgettable as wannabe forgettable.

It is possible that this is a transitional phase. Perhaps they dug up the old track and the are preparing to lay down a new one. That would make sense for this time of year. Or perhaps this is a dirt-track state. That would make sense for this part of the country.

In addition, it was a lovely walk through a busy and rundown section of the city to get to the school from the quaint and sketchy Howard Johnson. It was sunny and windy, that dry high-altitude warmth that makes you feel like you’re exercising in an artificial test atmosphere.

It was heartening to see teams of young softball players gathering to play at the adjacent softball fields. Even in the remote outposts of Montana, families sign up their kids to play sports they don’t want to play (not all, but some). Youth athletes never fail to have the outfit and the gear nailed down. They might look like they have never touched a softball, but they are equipped like a Division 1 collegiate all-star.

I don’t mean to pick on Helena. It is just not the garden spot of the state, from my narrow view. I do prefer to run on dirt, though, so let us celebrate the Analog status of this running venue.