Chromatic Fun at Nationals

US Track and Field National Championships, Day 4

Today I sold out my remaining few ounces of pride for a $50 gift card to Nike. After a 70 minute AM run around Dorris Ranch in Eugene with Nicks, I met Jon Marcus at the Track Town Pavilion above Hayward Field to begin the sell out. Yesterday afternoon, two girls from Strands (an online training/social networking site) asked if I would help them sell their website in exchange for some Nike money. Thinking this was a good idea, I said yes, then found out I'd be dressed up as the Strands logo.

Knowing this would be a pride reducing venture, I called the good man Marcus in Bend and recruited his assistance. Now, at the Strands booth, we discovered our costumes essentially had the form of a blue and white chromosome. Not wanting to scientifically incorrect, the hand-stitch nature of the outfits made me the Y-chromosome and Jon the X. While we made royal fools of ourselves around the stadium we did manage to spread the word for Strands rather successfully. We owned our roles. Granted, a 300 lb. guard woman called us assholes for making her day difficult because of our shenanigans, but that was balanced out by the other guard lady who said (and I'm not mincing words), "...now, I don't want to be sexually harassing you, but *pregnant pause*, those costumes make your backsides look very nice." Thank you lady.

I also managed to embarrass Mark Lech pretty handsomely in the costume, but he humored me by posing for a picture, as did the good natured Jordan Horwitz and Ben True. The funny thing was Marcus had all his pictures with ladies, mine with gentlemen. I guess that's just the nature of things.

For the meet today, my large nose got very burnt. Riley Masters ran an aggressive 1500m for the opening 3 laps, but fell to 7th in the final straight of the Jr. Championships. His run was impressive and the kid's showing some serious promise. Corey Conner ran alone in third place for her 1500m championship race for a majority of the laps , but the wind seemed to sap her strength also in the last straight and she finished 5th. Again, she's a true talent. Riley finished the day with the 5000m, but had to step off the track as the bear jumped on his back as a result of the previous two 1500m races he had in the past 24 hours. I have to give it to him, he's a ballsy runner for running a 5K 90 minutes after a 1500. Kick ass.

Now I'm back at Nicks' apartment, awaiting a phone call from Olivia before I hit the road for Crater Lake. If she calls before the sun goes down I'm out of here tonight, but if it's dark by the time I get the wheels rolling I'll stick around and leave after tomorrow morning's run. Plus, there's a massive track party in Eugene tonight and people may want to see me spread my graces to the masses.

Actually, mostly nobody knows who I am outside of the Y-Chromosome costume. That's too bad.

Wagon Miles: Nope, still in PARK

Fast Times and Free Tickets

USA Track and Field National Championships, Hayward Field, Eugene, Oregon

Currently, the Wagon's be put in PARK, so one might think Road Trip '09 is over.  That's not the case, it's not even on hold; this situation of PARK is quite simply one aspect of the journey.  Others include DRIVE, NEUTRAL, occasionally REVERSE (but the backup lights went out on the Wagon thousands of miles ago so we try to avoid that as best we can), and if things get really interesting the trip may fall into those strange settings on an automatic transmission with numerical emphasis.  I don't know why THRID is there but I use it and so far the car hasn't caught fire. 

In any event, the men of the Bowerman Athletic Club-Elite have taken up camp at Mike Nicks', our teammate, apartment in Eugene for the last three days of the US Track and Field Championships going on across town at Hayward Field.  The entire house is picking up the sweet aroma of sweat, dog shit, and feet so I try to avoid it at all costs.

For yesterday's meet, arrived at the Nike booth in the mid-afternoon without a ticket, hoping Ahrlin or Annie could work their connection magic and produce a second day of free meet entry.  Unfortunately, after talking at length with Ahrlin, I realized he already gave me Friday's ticket and I had just finished putting said ticket (along with Sunday's) through the wash, rinse, and spin cycles while washing my yellow khaki shorts, circa 1976-my father owned them and when coupled with a green shirt I look like a John Deere logo.  Running back to the car, I quickly managed to extricate the destroyed ticket, unfold it and successfully gained legitimate entrance to the meet.  Unfortunately, I was stuck sitting alone in Section N, but after a few minutes of awkward solo meet watching, Coster called informing me of a VIP pass he had secured for myself to the Nike and USATF areas.  And, once again, I found myself rubbing shoulders with the track and field elite, plus Michael Johnson and Joan Benoit.  To my credit, I had planned on getting back with the VIPers and actually dressed mildly decently this time around.  I must have looked alright because I wasn't constantly inspected of my credentials and Doug Logan, the USATF CEO, struck up a few conversations with me durning the Women's Steeplechase Trials.

The highlight of the meet was the Men's 5,000m championship race, where Matt Tagenkamp, Chris Solinski, and Evan Jagr finished in that order after dropping a highly respectable last lap.  I was pulling for the 20-year old Jagr to score the win when he moved into first with 185m to go, but his teammates where too solid and beat him out to the line.

After the meet, Danny and I remained in the empty VIP section, eating whatever remaining food was left and drinking whatever free treats we could secure.  Then it was short return to the fragrant Nicks apartment before going for night two at the Adidas Party at the Villard St. Pub.  This evening's festivities had roughly 4 times the people and the male female ratio was roughly 25:1.  I found that to be nice because it removed the desire from most of the guys to find a mate for the evening and instead people were just relaxed and talking track.  

Quality people.  And, no fatties ever frequent track parties, which I'm a supporter of.

This morning's run was brutal and I got the extra pleasure of running it alone (with a headache) since my brother Mackey decided to fall back asleep after waking me up solely to run.  Not cool.  After feeling a bit overweight while running past a cornucopia of world-class runners, I returned to the more putrid smelling apartment mildly humbled and feeling like rubbish.  That being the case, I quickly showered and made my way to Hayward for Day 3 of the meet, with no ticket whatsoever.  And, to make matters worse, all of my sources, except Annie, were not at the meet today.  However, I purposefully kept my VIP bracelet from last night and successfully took advantage of the less than studious gate keepers that were hired for the meet and made my way in with no trouble.  I was even given a stamp so I could come and go at my leisure.

The highlight of today's meet was our own freshman Riley Masters of UMaine running for second place in his trail section of the Junior Men's 1,500m race at 3:50.  Things got concerning with 200m to go in his race as he found himself boxed in against the rail, but somehow with 80m left he found a hole and finished in a very close second, securing a berth in tomorrow's 1500m final.  Another quality race was the Women's 1,500m Championship where Anna Willard of Greenbush, Maine, finished a respectable third in a very quality race.

Mike Nicks and I did manage to sneak into the VIP section today to get out of the blazing sun, eat a free dinner, and get some much needed liquids to rehydrate after getting burnt crispy in the open-air seats.  Unfortunately, our luck ran our halfway through a piece of steak as I crowd control volunteer asked to see our credentials.  Mike produced his MEET OPS pass, which had worked the past two days, but the volunteer was unconvinced.  I explained I was also covered by Mike's pass since I was only sporting yesterday's expired wristband, and to my shock I actually pulled it off for a moment or two.  The volunteer told us to finish our meal then leave, but I replied, "I'll call our coach who arranged everything and see if he knows any more about what our access is suppose to be.  Excuse me a second while I dial."  The fake phone call worked, the volunteer gave us a little more room, and we watched the Men's Steeplechase with the CEO of the USATF.

By 8PM, I was sporting a full body sunburn and was gloriously dehydrated.  Being physically defeated by today's heat, I opted to stay in and relax, giving myself the needed time to produce this posting.  Now, with only three minutes left on this Saturday, I'll be leaving in unedited so I can get my golden slumbers and find myself well rested for tomorrow's final day of competition.

Maybe next year I'll manage to race at this meet instead of spectating.  That's a good idea, Liv came up with it.

Wagon Miles: Nope, it's in PARK

Hot Hours to Eugene

Baker City to John Day Fossil Beds National Monument to USA Track & Field Championships

Departing Baker City Tuesday evening with some restocked food stores, I made it 90 minutes west before the setting sun forced me off the road.  I had hoped to cover more miles, but since I no longer had a designated destination, I wanted to give myself a few minutes of daylight to find a campsite somewhere off the road in any of the national forests along my route.  In the Malheur National Forest, I found the Dixie Campground, a USFS fee site that I poached and departed at 5:30 Wednesday morning.  For once I slept the entire night not fighting hyperthermia and my slumber was rather comfortable.

The small, agrarian communities sprinkled along the roads of eastern Oregon were quintessentially western and idyllic.   At 7:30, I rolled into the Cant Ranch, the headquarters of the John Day Fossil Beds National Monument, on the banks of the John Day River.  The setting was very dessert-esque and the restored sheep ranch gave a fine display of the way life used to be in the high desert.    Since the visitor center didn't open for another hour and a half, I set up shop on a picnic table and cooked a quality batch of pancakes to satiate my hunger.

After breakfast, I explored the ranch grounds, nearly stepped on a snake roughly the size of a garden hose, and watch a cowboy herd a small group of wayward cattle across the river.  Finally at 9AM, the archeology center had opened and I took a fair amount of education learning about prehistoric Oregon and the abundance of fossils in the once volcanically active area.

Back on the road it was more deserts, mesas, and emptiness to the Painted Hills, a beautiful natural oddity of red and orange striped mounds caused by millennia of volcanic deposits.  Not wanting to walk to a view point above the Painted Hills, I strapped up my Slashies (the name I've lovingly granted to a pair of running shoes) and ran the 3/4 mile trail up the butte.  The run was easy, 90 degrees, and the view splendid.  A few tourists looked at me cockeyed since I was running in the desert, but they were of the portly persuasion and I doubt they breath easily when having to climb out of basements.

The rest of Wednesday was spent on the road, driving through climates ranging from alpine to desert and mostly everything in between.  The trip took nearly 7 hours of my day, but it was time well spent and the Wagon performed beautifully.  Finally arriving in Eugene, Jordan Horwitz and I headed out for an easy 70 minutes of running.  It was good to run with our rivalry finally dead, but it was always a healthy rivalry.   Afterwards, we attempted to hit the streets of Eugene for a some bar fights and alcoholism, but only found drunk locals and pathetic drug addicts clinging to lamp posts.

Thursday morning brought about the start of the USA Track and Field National Championships at Hayward Field.  With Lech, Riley Masters, and a few other UMaine athletes competing Saturday, I met them at Lane Community College for a short rust-buster workout before Lech actually treated me to a free lunch at Track Town Pizza.  Unfortunately, the pizza was sub-par but it was a good start to the track weekend.  

At the start of the day I only had a ticket for Thursday's events, but by 4PM I had secured tickets for the remaining 3 days of competition and by 5PM our small BAC contingent had managed to get itself into the VIP section.  I didn't entirely fit in with the CEO of USATF and other bigwigs in the running community looking like I had just stepped off of a mountain and the security people checked my credentials at least four times to make sure I was allowed up there.

The highlight of the meet was Amy Yoder-Begley's win over Shalane Flannigan in the 10,000m.  I was most impressed and I've added Amy to my list of solid runners to take as example.  Enough said. 

The evening was closed out with Danny, Nicks, Sean, Marcus, and I at the Adidas party in downtown Eugene.  We all hid our Nike gear and spent the evening getting progressively filled with intoxicants while rubbing shoulders with running community royalty.  Finally, the five of us piled into Burrito Boy, grossly ate past our heart's content, then passed out back at Nick's house at 4AM this morning.

Wagon Miles: 301,264 to 301,545

NO TENTS ON GRASS

Joseph, OR to Hells Canyon Overlook, to Hells Canyon Dam, ID, to Baker City, OR

Yes, a campground proclaimed, quite proudly I'll say, "NO TENTS ON THE GRASS" .  Apparently, camping on asphalt is desirable in the Hells Canyon on the Idaho side of the Snake River, but in Oregon the tree-huggers let me throw the tent anywhere I may please.  That was about 4 hours ago, so let me rewind to Joseph and 20 hours prior.

24 Hours Ago:  With the sun out and finally in charge, I stopped at the Embers Brewhouse along Main Street and delighted myself to the third best burger I've ever consumed. (No. 1 being at Woodsman's in Orono, Maine & No. 2 at Casa Naraja on Mississippi in Portland, OR).  The wait staff was very delightful as I ate solo-style and downed a baker's dozen cups of coffee.  With dinner finished, I took back to the road, hoping to make it to John Day, OR by evening.

23-22 Hours Ago:  The road leaving Joseph was spectacular and quite a roller coaster ride.  Directly out of town, I passed a tree tastefully decorated in used sneakers, then saw a myriad of deep red barns set before the towering mountains of the Eagle Cap Wilderness.  With the forest road to myself for the next two hours, I took my time heading south.  At Lake Fork, I watched a family of elk run through a field then saw an obese family display themselves stately in their lawn chairs before their oversized 5th-wheel. 

Departing the main road, I headed up to the Hells Canyon Overlook, hoping to get a better view than I was allowed at Buckhorn.  Once the fatties removed themselves from the vista, the view I took in was commanding.  In silence, I walked along the rim of the canyon absorbing the grandeur spread out before me.  With no clouds to hinder things, the Seven Devils Mountains could finally be seen miles away in Idaho and their 9,300' peaks marked the highest point in the canyon-roughtly 8,300 feet above the Snake River flowing directly below.

As the sun set, I pulled out of the overlook, but put the Wagon in reverse after a few yards when I spotted an excellent spot for the tent along a small stocked pond near the canyon's rim.  Three other 5th-wheels and travel trailers were sharing the area, but I found a place of perfect seclusion where their ways couldn't be heard.  The site included a half-built fire ring and the dry weather made starting a fire enjoyably simple.  With water boiled on the fire, I walked to the pond with tea in hand to observe the evening fishing taking place.  It was here I met a very kind balding portly woman who had the grammar skills of a 50-gallon trash can.  My favorite was, "...well Smoke, that's why me had I get you my's camera."  I don't know exactly what that means but I assumed "Smoke" was her articulate husband on the other side of the lake by the nod he threw my way.  After wishing them luck with their fishing exploits (which didn't say much since every cast resulted in a 9" fish stuck to their line), I returned to my sanctuary in the woods for some reading and a nap.

12 Hours Ago:  At 4:45AM, I awoke to the first morning of blue skies on the trip.  This lifted my spirits so handsomely that I walked the quarter mile to the overlook and took in the sunrise while accepting the mid-30 degree temperature.  Cold but dry and pleased with the sunrise, I re-immersed myself in the sleeping bag for a few more hours of shuteye.

9 Hours Ago:  I packed the car for the first time with a completely dry tent and gear without eating breakfast.  My plan was to get a few miles underfoot then stop, eat, drive a little more, stop again, and run for the first time a 5 days.   Leaving the overlook, my drive descended quite quickly as the road did its best to cling to the rocky cliff.  Occasionally, the cliff decided to discard a few basketball-sized rocks upon the asphalt, but I got out safely. 

At one point, however, a group of honest to god cowboys were leading their herd of cattle directly up the road and right into my line of travel.  I pulled off to the side (which doesn't say much since there was not side of the road) and let the lumbering  bovines engulf the car as the drovers called "cattle move up! Herd up!"  Cow's don't speak English to my knowledge, but they did abide and I was able to continue on my way.

5 Hours Ago:  I opted to detour 30 miles north and checked out the Hells Canyon Dam, requiring me to drive an enjoyable section of road along the Snake River in Idaho.  The section of the canyon that actually housed the Snake River was amazing and I did my best to watch the road while rubbernecking and snapping pictures.  At the dam, I had a short breakfast of cereal, then drove a mile north to the end of the road where I took up the Hells Canyon Creek Trail for my first run in a while.  The trail was rocky, had shitty footing, and I may or may not have jumped over a snake while plodding along.  The thought of a visit by a snake's front teeth brought me to turn around and finish my short run on the road.

4 Hours Ago:  NO TENTS ON GRASS read the sign where I decided to take a short lunch and bathe in the Snake River.  I was confused but moved past the regulation to suds up and wash off the previous 5 days' filth.  The Snake River looked to be still, but after diving in I found myself a few yards downstream of my entry point and slowly continuing away.  Without panic I returned to the dock cleaner than expected and refreshed from the dip.  A quick lunch of veggies and hummus closed out my visit and I got back on the road to Baker City.

1 Hour Ago:  I started entering this log at the Baker City Library after driving a few hours through some desolate but pretty country.  No trees, just mounds of desert-esque prairie with snow-capped peaks for a background.  The library in Baker is very nice and now I'm going to top of this post with a good bye as I hit the road for the John Day Fossil Beds towards the west.  I don't know if I'll make it there tonight, so I may find myself sleeping in an field, but that's the reason why I choose to travel without a plan. 

No plan means I miss nothing and everything is an adventure. No regrets, this trip is starting to turn itself around.

Wagon Miles: 301,001 to 301,264

Doughnuts, Cold & Wet

Hurricane Creek to Buckhorn Lookout, Hells Canyon NRA

Things haven't been going so well; not painfully terrible, just things haven't been going so well.  After leaving leaving Mad Mary's Saturday evening, I made a few phone calls back East before returning to the site for supper.  I opted to take a less traveled route through ranch land and the Wagon plowed through the mud piles like the true champion she is.  The evening light was spectacular and was enhanced by approaching thunder storms.

At the site, I prepared an alright dinner of leftover chili while successfully multitasking a fire start this time around.  While walking from the Wagon to the picnic table, I watched a family of three deer have dinner of their own on the opposite side of the swift flowing Hurricane Creek.  They were a nice spark of happiness as I began to mentally prepare for the emotional battle of freezing throughout the night in the tent.  For some reason, last year's road trip was never remotely as cold as this year's.

Yesterday morning, I awoke to a new sound on the tent walls: steady, angry rain.  Oh, and it was about 40 degrees out too.  Breakfast was quick; hot oats and self-brewed coffee.  The copious amounts of scalding liquid I passed down my throat pleasantly warmed me(and singed the first 10" of my esophagus), but didn't help much with the lonely factor.  I figured I was adjusted so an Olivia-less road trip but apparently I'm quite wrong.  The actual journeying from point A to point B is fine - I have a goal and something to do so my mind doesn't wander.  It's the solo time around meals and packing/unpacking the Wagon that's torture, never mind the fact that it's been exactly a year since last year's adventure and I can't help but relive every mile.

Anyways, I loaded up the Wagon with supersaturated gear and headed into Enterprise to pick up a few gifts courtesy of Terminal Gravity Brewing before taking the NFS 697 Road north towards Hells Canyon.  The drive was amazing as I cruised along the gravel road for miles upon end through rolling prairie.  Every so often I'd pass an abandoned barn, an empty homestead, a corral, or a herd of open-range cattle.  I didn't see a single sole during the entire drive (which would add to my feelings of loneliness a few hours later).

The more north I drove, the less it rained, until I pulled off at Buckhorn Overlook.  In theory, this place had a commanding view of Hells Canyon and the surrounding vastness that makes up eastern Oregon and western Idaho.  In actuality it looked exactly like the Maine coast held in under a thick fog. I couldn't see fifty feet in front of me, let along the bottom of the canyon some 8,000 feet below.  At the Buckhorn Campground, the fog was less intense but it was still drizzling, taking my last remaining high spirits and washing them into the mud on my Carharts.

I ate three delicious humus wraps for lunch, quickly popped the tent (which was completely soaked) then walked the Forest Service roads for a few hours to gather my thoughts.  The stroll was relaxing and much needed.  By the time I returned to the tent, I had added to my overall dampness, was chilled through, but content with my situation.  Crawling into the sleeping bag around 3PM, I opened a book on elite distance runners and read for a few hours about Joan Benoit Samuleson.  She was a true badass and focusing my thoughts on running successfully pulled me from my rut.

By 5PM the tent started to take on an increase in light, so I put on my multitude of layers and re-entered the day expecting to find some sunlight.  Nope, just a lighter hue of clouds and mist than a few hours before.  Disappointed, I opted for a walk back to Buckhorn Overlook and briefly I was able to see a morsel of the canyon.  It was impressive, kind of a lush version of the Grand Canyon and not at hot.  It was currently 42 degrees.

Dinner was Annie's Mac & tuna, a fine selection that filled me up properly for the first time since leaving Jeff's Thursday.  With the status of the weather, I skipped any attempt at a fire and instead crawled back into my damp tent for some more reading before passing out cold and wet.

At 4AM, the gallon of green tea I had with dinner had been processed and I stepped from the tent to actually see blue sky.  It was still horribly cold, I was still horribly cold, but things were slightly less horribly wet.  Excited, I fell back asleep for a few more hours.

At 8AM, the sun was out but it was still below 40 and my spirits were starting to rise.  I ate cold cereal, had some tea then walked up to Buckhorn Overlook and actually was able to take in the view.  Hells Canyon is massive and breathtaking.  I couldn't see the Snake River since it was hidden beyond some ridges but nevertheless the place is awe-inspiring.  Words don't do enough justice so I settled with taking an abundant amount of pictures.

Back at the site, I noticed the rear driver's side tire was flat.   Straight up dead.  Shit.  I had planned on reorganizing the car this morning anyways, but having to dig out the doughnut was not a part of the plan.  Unfortunately, I found the jack had been pinched right where it's suppose to connect to the lifting mount on the Wagon's frame, requiring me to do some backcountry metal bending with the lug wrench and a screwdriver.  Aside from that hiccup, the tire change went smoothly, made easier by the blue sky.   However, blue sky didn't necessarily mean fine weather and right as I started putting things away a hail storm arrived.  Hurriedly, I repacked the car with a respectable amount of organization while my once dry gear gradually became damp.

Finally, I got back in the driver's seat and bid good riddance to Buckhorn-leaving the cold campground in a cloud of dust from the anorexic looking tire spinning at 5 mph.  The drive back to Joseph was beautiful but slow going-I regulated myself to 20-mph to keep the doughnut from driving itself to death.  The blue sky was a fine contrast to the rich greens of the prairie and I enjoyed the relaxed progress I was making back to town.  

In Joseph, I found a nice mechanic to plug the hole in my tire, filled up with fuel and now I find myself in the tiny town library writing about my ordeals.  In a few minutes I'll be eating a good meal at a local cafe, then letting a few people know I'm still alive before getting on the road and heading south.  I have 3 days to meet Jordo in Eugene and I should be able to fill my time and miles appropriately.  

The weather says partly sunny for the next five days, only problem is I don't know where the report's for.  Sun will definitely lift my spirits and tomorrow I hope to run for the first time in 5 days (but I still haven't showered).  Running, anyways, seems to be the best anti-depressant. 

Wagon miles: 300,887 to 301,001