I’ve been really excited to run Mt. Wilson for a few weeks now. I did Mt. Lowe a few weeks ago and the Wilson run, being a slightly longer trek (7 mi vs. 6.5) with slightly higher elevation gain (around 4800 vs. 4000 something ft) was the next logical conquest. I hiked the first few miles of the trail a number of times with my work buddies and otherwise, but never made it beyond the halfway point. And never been to the top, despite spending the last 9 years in Pasadena, having a paved road that leads there, and legendary stories of Page initiations dropping pre-frosh off on top of the mountain with nothing.
I was ready to do it last week, but got rained out and did Henninger Flats. So this was the week. That Wednesday morning I felt tired. I got 6 hours of sleep, after getting another 6 hours the night before. Not a terribly small amount, but a bit less than comfort zone. I had a Guru Energy drink in the morning to get going. Also, my throat felt like I could be getting sick. It had that irritated, tickling feeling. I ate a pill of BioGuard by Imagenetix that contained 1 billion of “good bacteria” as recommended by a coworker. I decided to assess how I feel later in the day and then make the final decision to run, or not.
I don’t know if the billion bacteria did something, but come three o’clock, my throat felt normal and my energy levels improved. I sure didn’t feel at my top shape, but much better. I still considered the thought that it wasn’t a good idea, given my energy levels and potentially getting sick. But the allure of the mountain quickly purged that thought. In fact, I felt sad at the thought of not running it. Or maybe, as my mom would say, “Моча в голову ударила” or “When the urine hits the brain” which means that when I decide to do something, it’s impossible to change my mind, even with mounting evidence against the idea.
In this case, the evidence was not mounting as this was a hard run, but not epic. The weather was way better than last week (80s and dry down in Pasadena, so I figured subtract 15-20 for top of the mountain, and another 15 or so for after the sun sets), and this is a well-used well-maintained trail.
So I started at 4:30. The minute I hit the trail, which doesn’t waste any time in going uphill, my leg muscles wailed in protest. The realization of “I’m exhausted” set in as the thought crystallized in my mind. I brushed it aside and pushed on. This is the normal cry of protest as my body warms up and accepts that it’s time to run. Well... it was certainly exacerbated by not getting quite enough sleep and starting out on a sharp uphill, but so it goes.
Breathing heavily, I pushed on. Running up hill as much as I could, then taking a walking break to catch my breath and relieve the tension in the legs. It was a rough rough rough rough rough climb. Other than a relatively flat section in the middle, the uphill was unrelenting and steep. So my legs never got a chance to recharge, and I had to rely on the walking breaks. I practiced not stopping and walking as quickly as I could while still recharging.
I don’t like having to walk when I set out to run. It feels slow and it feels like cheating. And I hope to get good enough that I can run up Wilson without stopping. But from what I hear, walking up hills is a viable strategy for those running 100 milers. Even if/when I get good enough to run up Wilson non-stop, it’d be that much harder to do it after already having run 50 miles or knowing that I have 50 more to go. We shall cross that bridge when we get there. For now, while my runs are relatively short, I will do the best I can and not worry about “strategy.”
I got to First Water (about 1.7 mi in from the car) in 25 minutes or in just under 15 minute miles. This was a better time than I expected since I felt slow with all that walking. I got encouraged. As much as I try not to worry about time, I’m still a time junkie and one of the most enjoyable things about running for me is constantly improving.
The next stretch to Orchard Camp was 2 miles and the trail wound through a forest of oaks and brush. I still find it so surprising and refreshing to be in a forest right here in Los Angeles, so known for its deserts and unrelenting heat. I made this stretch in 30 minutes, still keeping up the 15 minute pace.
3.5 miles in, 3.5 more to go. That next stretch was hell. The uphills seemed steeper and steeper, as if the mountain itself was tilting towards me, not wanting me to summit. Also the trail got more narrow. I did the only thing I could: run until exhausted, then walk, and then run again.
Finally I got to the final checkpoint before the summit - the turn-off to Manzanita Ridge. The sign said “Left” to get to the Mt Wilson toll road which jived with my map. Then I would go for half a mile on the fire road, then back on the trail for the last 0.7 miles and I’m there. The sign also said it was 2.25 mi to the top of Mt. Wilson. 2.25?!? I thought I was 1.7 mi way (according to my map it was 0.5 to the fire road, 0.5 on the fire road, and 0.7 to the top). Half a mile doesn’t seem like much, but after running uphill for the last hour and a half, having my remaining ascent increased by 30% was disheartening. Hanging on to the hope that the sign is wrong, I set off.
I think the sign was wrong... or maybe referred to the distance to the top if one takes the fire road the whole way. After 0.5 miles on the trail, I found the fire road. Looked up and still saw the mountain top with its radio towers, so close, almost there! I thirstily consumed my Gatorade Gel, went another half a mile, found the trail, and without losing any time set off for the top. It was starting to get dark, but I figured I had enough light to get to the top without getting out my headlamp. That would require taking off my Camelbak and would slow me down.
So I pushed on in the shadows until finally I was there. “Well that’s disappointing,” I thought as I looked around on the flat and deserted parking area. Not a single car. “Where are the good views?” I wondered as I wandered around the top. Finally I walked up to an edge and was engulfed by LA’s million billion lights. It was a congregation of tribal campfires lit up in the dusk.
COOL. I snapped a few pictures with my phone, noted that there weren’t many more places left to explore (seeing the barbed wire fence separating the radio towers), and got ready to head down. I put on my new Princeton Tec headlamp and got back on the trail.
“THIS IS GOING TO TAKE A LONG TIME,” I thought to myself. Have you ever run with a flashlight on uneven terrain? Everything looked 2D and the shadows messed with my head. I had a hard time telling whether something was a patch of dirt or an actual rock protruding from the trail that I had to get around. And that’s still with residual sunlight.
I quickly took out my phone and texted Galen to push out my ETA to 9. (As good practice, I let him know where I’m going and that I should be back down by 8, thinking I will take 2 hours to come up (and I did!) and 1.5 hours to get down (fat chance!)). Also let Natalya know that I’m taking a while and may not make it to dinner which was supposed to be at 8.
Half a mile on that trail back to the fire road took 10 minutes, so I’m going at about 3 miles an hour, so I should be down in 2-2.5 hours.
It was getting cold. I was already starting to feel it running, but ignored it as I focused on reaching my goal. Now, on top of the mountain, in the dark, wearing shorts and a t-shirt... I was definitely feeling it. Granted, it was a merino wool t-shirt which was warmer than your standard cotton tee, but it alone wasn’t going to make me feel warm in 50 degrees.
As I got back on the fire road, I had a new mission - to find the trail head. I knew it was 0.5 miles and to the right, since I turned left onto the fire road. I figured I’m running at no faster than 10-12 minute miles, so I marked the time on my phone and knew that I have to start looking for the sign about 5-6 minutes in.
I ran for 7-8 minutes with no sign of the sign. The only thing on the right side was an unending mountain side. Hmmmm... This is not good. Not good. Where could it be? Did I miss it? I thought I was paying close attention. Maybe the trail goes onto that ridge that I see protruding not too far ahead. I ran towards it and watched it grow bigger and bigger from the darkness. The fire road simply curved around it and there was still no trail head.
15 minutes in. Could it be....? But I distinctly remember turning left on the fire road which means the trail head had to be on the right. Had to be. I get out the map. Lo and behold, I indeed turned RIGHT on the fire road. I turned LEFT on the turn leading up to the fire road which is what I was thinking about, but right on the actual fire road. DOH, I've been looking on the wrong side. Note to self, don’t rely on what I seem to remember, pay close attention to all trail turns and make mental notes, and look at the map!
I turned around and slowed down from a run to a walk. I needed to calm myself and I didn’t want to miss the trail head again. This time I walked on the correct side and examined all very carefully. Meanwhile I ate my remaining Clif Bar - mint chocolate - calories here I come! If anything is going to help against this cold is more fuel for the furnace. Sarah calls me her inefficient heater. Well, that’s 260 good ones thrown in the oven.
As I back-tracked, I played worst case scenarios in my head - something I do in bad situations that helps me deal. If I don’t find the trailhead, what do I do? 1) I call Galen to pick me up from the top - after all, there is a road that goes there. 2) I run down the fire road, towards Henninger Flats, and get out on Allen. It’s about 10 miles, but a much easier run since it’s a wide flat road, not a rocky, windy trail. Then I can have Galen pick me up or just run to my car on city streets. OK, should be fine.
After what seemed like an eternity of walking back, the trail sign materialized from the darkness. *BIG SIGH OF RELIEF*
Now it’s 7:30. 6 miles to go. I don’t think I can get down by 9, so I send Galen another text pushing the time back to 10 and let Natalya know I’m probably not making it to dinner. And set off on the run.
I still felt cold, while my head felt sweaty, which was weird. The thought of hypothermia crossed my mind... but I didn’t know much about it (read up wilderness survival stuff and take Matt from work out to lunch and pick his brain. I should know this stuff if I’m going to go out into the wilderness). Other than being slightly short of breath, I felt fine. Cold, but fine.
“You are tougher than you think you are,” the phrase from Born to Run crossed my mind. This is the mantra of the Leadville 100 in Colorado, one of the hardest hundred milers in the country where the entire race occurs at 10,000+ ft elevation. The book discussed one outdoor enthusiast whose arm got caught by an 800 pound boulder in a remote area in Southern Utah. After living off his supplies for 4 days without anyone finding him, he sawed off his arm with a knife and walked out of the wilderness. Now that’s tough.
What I’m doing is children’s play. Running around a groomed trail in 50 degree weather in Southern California. No problem.
Who else is here?? What are these two flashlights doing shining at me out of the forest? I froze in my tracks, surprised to find another person on the mountain. I looked and the flash lights shined right back at my headlamp. I walked a few steps closer, along the trail. Then they moved and I saw a catlike silhouette.
A bobcat!
That makes a lot of sense. I seemed to remember hearing that bobcats could be aggressive (not true as I just looked up). I quickly turned and ran on my way. “Nothing to see here, Mr. Bobcat. Just minding my own business and you mind yours.”
The rest of the run down was uneventful other than losing the trail for a couple of minutes at Orchard Camp (it switched sharply back and I went straight into the camp). My legs and knees held up really well on the downhill as I used Barefoot Ted’s technique to bend at the knees and take very small steps.
I made it down by 9:30, ran up to my car and gave it a hug. It’s good to be back.
So to sum it up, 7 miles and 4800 feet uphill in 2 hours - very respectable. Downhill took another 3 hours (including 30 minutes of finding my way) - a little slower than I’d like, though that was more of a function of not being used to running with a headlamp then physical limitations. Something I will have to work on for the 100 milers that will inevitably include a night portion.
My respect for the 100 mile races continues to grow as I go out running into the wilderness. Here I covered 14 miles in 5 hours. Running a hundred miler is 7 times as long, including ~8 hours of night running, and quite possibly colder weather, not to mention rain. That said, this is probably one of the hardest ascents in the US as far as trail runs go, since the San Gabriel Mountains are some of the steepest in the world.
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