Training Log Archive: Swampfox

Ran School Yard trails in strong winds. The trails are dry now and in many places now have their usual thin summer veneer of sand. On days like this, it doesn't take the wind long to wipe the trails clean of any tracks--kind of like what a high tide does at a beach.

I just learned of another orienteering teammate from West Point who has died earlier this year--Mike Peffers. Some here may remember him. His obituary: https://www.legacy.com/obituaries/sanantonio/obitu...

I ran easy out at Remarkable Flats, spending a fair amount of time in one area circling around in one area looking for a shed. I didn't find any, but I did spot some people tracks, so maybe they did.

Then I ran over to a different area to conduct further searching actions, and while I didn't find any sheds over there either, I did find a marmot, which was chirping/whistling loudly at me. I couldn't spot the marmot, but it was obvious the sound was coming from a small group of rocks, and eventually I narrowed down the sound as coming from one particular rock. And when I bent down to look under the rock, there was the marmot. I couldn't tell if it wanted a grape, or wanted me to go away. I didn't have a grape, so I went away.

Later I heard more sounds, this time coming from a giant boulder cluster, and when I went to investigate this new marmot--even though I still didn't have any grapes--it turned out to be two people. I think they were surprised to see me, more or less in the middle of nowhere, and I was surprised they weren't a marmot.

That's my story for the day, and I stand by it.

Man, already 67F--easily the warmest day of the year so far. I definitely feel some O' coming on! ; )

C • temperature 1

Orienteering was on tap for today. Real orienteering. Classic distance. Long, tough, wind, sun, snow, wide open prairie. And maybe even some flowers, here and there.

This demanded something jangly.

https://www.dropbox.com/s/i89nnkz2m9q72q6/Don%27t%...

For various reasons, I calculated a course distance of 18.6 kms was required. Remarkably, when I drew up the rough design--first attempt--it measured at almost exactly 18.6 kms! I think it was fated, since I knew before picking the first control what the final control would be (marked as the Finish, but I always thought of it as the last control): Remarkable Boulder. But then, when the map is Remarkable Flats, everything becomes remarkable. So the rough design became the final course.



I stopped a little outside of the circle at #14, looking at a boulder right in line with my eyesight, which didn't look quite right. I stopped at the tick mark to see what was going on and spotted the correct boulder almost immediately, further down below and to my left. To #18, I wanted to run a little right of the beeline and almost at once spotted the large boulder right of the line which I wanted to run by. But once I ran by it and started down the steep slope and saw a wall of aspen in front of me plus the road on the other side, I realized I had picked out the very rocky knoll south of the beeline instead of the boulder, and swung right to get back on track. Otherwise, everything went well, though at #23 I had to estimate where the control feature (a two line marsh) might be, as the whole area was buried in a massive snowfield. Crampons were not required.

It turned my legs were not equal to the course, and by the time I started uphill, into a pretty decent wind, on the way to #22, I was already feeling a lack of any vestige of orienteering fitness this early in the season. No surprise, and I just did the best I could, and what a glorious day to be out in such a beautiful area!

Ran snow trails.

Overcast and windy all afternoon and threatening rain, before clearing off to the west shortly before sunset. I took advantage of the wind to bike south of town, which seemed to be getting the better efforts from the wind. As a sign of how windy it was, the blackbirds did not rise up to strafe me like they usually do at the one pond along the route I took.

Ran in the snow at Happy Jack, and my legs felt 100x better than yesterday.

Several times I came across random short sections of trail where the snow looked quite strange--it almost had the texture and appearance of bare ground. But surely that wasn't possible, so I figured either I was in a dream or else was hallucinating. It did lead to start wondering when and if bare ground would return to the picture. And ants. Would there be ants? If there was real bare ground, there could be ants.

After getting warmed up and running at an easy pace for a while, I realized my legs felt unusually smunched. The clock said I had only been out for about 30 minutes, so what wasn't good. I went to an even easier pace and kept on going, but didn't feel any better. I ended up going for about 90 minutes, and was glad to get back home. It wasn't a sufferfest but not a single step felt like there was any bounce it it. My analysis was that there were too many days in the past week where the candle was burning at both ends, and it caught up with me today. I took it easy the rest of the evening and went to bed early.

A snow storm late in the day meant there was no shortage of new snow to run in--both on the ground and in the air. The ski trails were firmer and offered better running than I had expected.

I ran out as far as the Troll Bridge at Brown's Landing, and stood approximately on top of the bridge, which remains utterly buried in the deep snow and wholly out of sight.

It was nice enough out today and I thought enough snow might have melted higher up that it seemed the time was right to go out for a first real O' run of the season. My destination would be the remarkable Remarkable Flats.

Since it was going to be a real O' run, I made sure I had my compass and some proper O' shoes. When I looked at the bottom of the shoes, I saw several oak leaves fastened to the spikes/dobbs, and much encrusted mud, of a sort you would have to travel at least 500 miles from here to find. In short, these shoes had last been worn at Possum Trot.

I was aghast. These were my training shoes, not my racing shoes. No wonder I hadn't won Possum Trot! Well, in truth, I could have had my racing shoes on, rocket boost backpack, and 5 flavors of jelly beans, and I still would have been behind Simon by 20+ minutes. He was way faster and better than I was, or ever was, for that matter.

Training shoes would be fine for Remarkable Flats today though, since, after all, I would be out training.

Next up was figuring out what to listen to for some inspiration, to get the most effect possible from this initial O' training session of the season. Any seasoned orienteer who is is serious about the sport will have over the years assembled a collection of music to choose from to get them in the right spirit for the day, and I have mine. It can't be just anything; I mean, the theme from the Brady Bunch isn't going to cut it (you know who you are, iamstillhungry). It's got to have to some attitude. And I was thinking I wanted something a little wild today, something like this:

https://www.dropbox.com/s/zerqp6ol1gkvogy/%28Reall...

That pretty much did it for me, so off I was.

As I drove by the Tie City Parking and looked into the trail head area, I could see there were still massive amounts of snow there. I expected that. I did not expect to see as much snow as there was at Remarkable Flats, however. Well, it did snow a whole lot last week. And actually, as I was pulling on my shoes, I looked back to the west, and a big gray cloud was just coming across Happy Jack. A snow cloud. I had planned to run in a long sleeve t-shirt, but looking at the cloud, I immediately changed plans and pulled on a jacket as well. Then the snow and a big wind hit, and I figured it would be just as well to wait for it all to pass. I listened to the news on the radio, and it wasn't much more than 15 minutes later before the cloud had moved on. Then the sun was out, the wind abated, and just like that it was mild enough that I didn't need the jacket anymore.

It was so nice to be out and running with a map in hand again. The snow turned out to be not bad at all. Probably well less than 10% of the time was there any snow in my way, and most of the time it was either shallow enough to run right through, or else where it was deep it was firm enough to run on top of without breaking through. There were some deep purple pasque flowers blooming in scattered small clumps.

I had an 8 km course, and for about the first 4 controls the orienteering felt a little ragged, and was mostly much better after that. And for about the first third of the time I was out, the running felt a little rough and clumsy--which is usually the case the first few times I get out and start running harder across terrain in the season. But the rest of the way it felt surprisingly good. I did totally miss #24 the first time through, running to a small spur (NE of the ring) that had a little height to it that looked like it could be a shallow knoll. The second time through (now #30), I realized what I had done. I also had to stop just short of #23; I was running slightly parallel to the beeline and realized that I wasn't seeing what I expected to see and that since I was almost at the control ring I needed to stop to check what was going on. Which is exactly what you should do if you''re very close to the control but are no longer seeing what you need to see or expect to be seeing.

Best spring day of the season so far, and as an extra nice added touch, it didn't even snow. I found some crocus in my yard, and I knew what I wanted to do when afternoon hit: ride. And I also knew exactly where to obtain the right vibe: "Rock Steady" (thanks, Aretha!).

I felt unusually strong the whole time out, whether I was going uphill or into the wind or trying to beat a a light on the verge of turning red, but I knew it was less me and more the song.

After a brief break, I changed garb and headed over to the School Yard for a run, and caught the sunset and caught some mountain bikers, too. That doesn't happen often. I guess they should have been listening to "Rock Steady" also.

As I was cooling down on the way home, it occurred to me I had *completely* forgotten yesterday was 4/20. Oh, well, said the totally non-smoker dude: "You know how it all is, your best dreams can go up in a puff of smoke just like that."

I bet they didn't forget down south across the Border.

C • 420 3

I got out my snow manual this morning to do some studying so I could figure out when the snow around here might go away. According to the manual: "Snow will often disappear entirely when the following conditions are in place: 1) snowfall ceases, 2) strong sun for many hours of the day, 3) warm temperatures, preferably Texas-like."

Unfortunately, all three of those conditions continue to be a problem locally.

C • MS River 2

Well, back when men were men and women were women and giants strode the Plain, by the time you reached the end of your 4th May, you were considered ready and Graduation was scheduled for the end of that month.

But now things are different. Society is softer, and it has seeped into West Point as well. Cadets have their phones and laptops and can do whatever they like in their rooms. The Area has been ripped out and replaced with swing sets, merry-go-rounds, sandboxes, and little horsies on springs. Plebes wouldn't have the slightest clue what the Days were, even if you explained it to them in a gentle voice (no raised voices now!) 47 times. Meals are optional, you get up in the morning whenever you feel like it, and the football team even has occasional winning seasons.

Senior officers at the Academy, sensing that all this could be a problem, decided that in order to be absolutely certain cadets would be ready to face a harsher world upon graduation, they would need to pass one final test. They would need to endure a Commencement Address by El Presidente Trump.

Some argued that this was unfair. What training had cadets done over 4 years that could possibly prepare them for this final hurdle? As a compromise, it was agreed that graduation would be delayed for two weeks, and that this additional time would be spent training the Class of 2020 for the unthinkable. As the Comm is rumored to have said: "Life is tough, and life is not fair. They will just have to deal with it."

They will be trained to have their earpods in place and turned to maximum volume, so that the deceptions and mistruths and outright lies can not penetrate. In spite of coronavirus, they will all grip each other's hands, to give each other strength to withstand--but they will be wearing sanitized gloves, so it will all be okay. They will don government issue sunglasses and face away from the graduation stage in order to preclude any possibility of witnessing the raccoon eyed bloviation. They will practice these essential life saving steps for two solid weeks, again, and again, and again.

And at Graduation, once El Presidente has delivered some amount of mono-toned nonsense and has stepped into the waiting golf cart (which will take him to the waiting helicopter 150 feet away) and has barked a few choice answers to the horde of reporters ("There are plenty of tests, anyone who wants can get tested, the states need to get moving on this because they have all the supplies they need, it's all a hoax, that was such a nasty question and you're a nasty reporter, I knew it was a beautiful and very powerful pandemic before anyone else and said so many times, and this is a disgraceful witchhunt that no other El Presidente should have to put up with, especially if they have heel spurs.") then the few surviving members of the Class of 2020 will toss their caps into the air and excitedly type out text messages to people standing a mere few feet away reading: "Can you believe we did it!"

Today, I did it too--a longer bike ride, and a shorter mountain bike ride (done swampfox style, on foot, running some dry mountain bike trails over at the School Yard.) Just another day in Laradise.

I was hoping that maybe I could get to run in a snowstorm today, and my timing was perfect! It snowed for a solid hour while I was running at Happy Jack. After the snow stopped, I kept on going, figuring it could be the last decent chance to spot some snowsnakes this spring.

Ran trails at a decent pace over at the School Section, and linked up with Tyler for part of it.

Amazingly it did not snow today. Almost wasn't sure what to do, but I ran anyway, from home over to the School Section and ran trails there. Nice to have that in the hip pocket when needed, or even when not.

The extensive existing jeep trails over there were always quite good to run on, but with the work going into developing a nice network of mountain biking trails, it's become a terrific place to run, with a wide variety of terrain and footing possibilities. For a real challenge, you can do sprints on the limestone slickrock (hint: it's not exactly slick in any sense of the word.)

Day 5 of snow, and already it's snowed several times today. Around town people have started putting up signs (no joke) that read: "If this is Spring, then I don't want to see Summer." Man, this is really cutting into my special heat training.

The interstate was closed yesterday (semis got stuck in the snow), for a whole extra degree of isolation, and so I ran from home, off into the east prairie. For a while I had a Martian with an eerie green light chasing me around in the dark, which wasn't as scary as it sounds, because in the end it only turned out to be a big shaggy dog.

C • not so special 10

Light snow in the air, and so much snow on the trails. Too bad the grooming stopped, but so it goes. In the meantime, running on the trails makes for great training for some future Tiomila where there was two feet of snow on the ground with lots of uneven, freshly packed elephant trails between the controls.

I have to say the feeling of spring was a little elusive today, especially with a brisk wind hurrying the snow along.

Quite chilly today for April--I don't think it made it out of the teens. But running was quite pleasant anyway. There was no wind, and snow was falling steadily the whole time while I was on the trails at Happy Jack. Other than having to avoid the occasional partially obscured post hole, it was as easy as it could be. I haven't quite been able to shake John Prine's death from my mind, and as a way to cast things in a happier light, this afternoon I put together a rough cover of my favorite song of his. It is remarkable to me that someone of his age at the time he wrote the song was able to write it, or even wanted to. My version:

https://www.dropbox.com/s/ama007n084m7yzg/Hello%20...

13F and snowing outside--just a typical Easter Sunday in SE Wyoming. Too bad the Forest Service shut down ski grooming because of virus transmission fears, but you can't have everything in paradise.

I was feeling kinda chill today, so when it was time to go out, I put on my best super dooper running things and prepared for cold action. I wasn't sure if I was over-prepared of if I had stuck out somewhere short of the mark. The latter proved to be the case. The thermo-meter said it was teenish, but I said it was singlish, and I was the one who was out there, so I am going with me.

Whatever the case, for mid April it was not bacon Texas warm, and that's for sure.

Fun running through a thin veneer of new snow on top of the old.

A little "change in climate" was forecast for late in the day, so I biked early enough to avoid all that, and then headed up to the Crow Creek drainage area in mid-afternoon to explore for snow. And other things, too. There was plenty of snow (shocking!), though possible to find strips of bare ground in the pine forest areas, if you looked hard enough. Open sage and grass areas were mostly clear, depending on exposures. Heard one turkey but was never able to catch sight of it. Also came across 4 deer/elk kills from this winter--a sure sign that at least one mountain lion knew what it was doing.

It was starting to turn chillier towards the end, but nothing bad, so it all worked out pretty well.

Spent nearly 2 1/2 hours doing some running shed hunting (say 2 hours of effective hunting after counting running into and out of the target area) and didn't find a thing, not even a single beer can. But I did see the first pasque flowers of the season blooming in the wild, and I was on a piece of base map I've never run on before, so it was still totally worth it.

Also the first day of the year I've run without a jacket or gloves, befitting a day that was mild and wonderfully sunny. It could almost have felt warm, had there not been a decent breeze.

Of course it is still only spring and not summer, and so you have to think that with a day like this, more snow can not be that far off....and as everyone knows, it is snow that makes the flowers grow. ; )

Did a bike loop south of town. Like the past 2 days, it was mild and sunny, but there was enough wind with a cool undertone to make it feel more brisk than mild. Still really nice for a bike ride though, and I passed a half dozen or so other folks out riding, where normally on this loop I wouldn't see anyone else out. Traffic on 287 might have been a little lighter than usual, but not in a way that stood out. Really, in all it looked like a perfectly typical sunny April day in SE Wyoming, and no hint of anything related to coronavirus.

Then went up to Happy Jack for some running. Mostly ran on soft dirt roads, though I did go up into the woods to check one drainage to check out snow levels and on the off chance moose might have dropped off a few antlers up there. I picked up some cans off the road I had seen on an earlier run, and brought them home for recycling. They weren't quite enough to meet the metal needs for one of those Boeing 737 Max jets, but then they aren't building any of those things right now, so I've got time for another run to collect the rest of what I need so they can build another jet.

I was talking with a neighbor who is knowledgeable about all things that move that are larger than a rabbit and have fur, and described the tracks and circumstances of the tracks I came across last Friday. His conclusion: wolf. He went on to say that collared wolves had been tracked crossing through the Laramie valley area, so it would be hardly surprising to find a lone wolf around.

For the afternoon's activities, I broke out some lighter running wear and did the first session of running cruise intervals this year. About time, some might say. About time, I might say, too. I kept the number of reps and the intensity at the lighter end of my interval spectrum, but it was still easily the fastest I've run since Possum Trot. Probably I would have run faster if I had had some fearsome Possum Trot thorns after me.

Lots of snow melted today, and occasionally I could hear water moving in a stream paralleling the dirt road I was on. I like it when the streams start to break free from winter.

Came home to find another artist I much admired had passed away: John Prine. There'll never be another like him. Who hasn't felt crazy as a loon once or twice?

C • Prine 4

Driving out of town by the last gas station, I noted the price of gas was a pretty low $1.49. 2 1/2 hours later, driving back into town after running, I had to do a double take going by the same gas station--now the price was $0.99. Never thought I'd see that kind of price again for gasoline.

C • Cruise intervals 4

First day of spring that would have felt like spring to even somewhere from warmer/lower lands. Lots of snow melt going on.

I ran around on south slopes of the Twin Mountains, enjoying the sun and views.

Ran soggy dirt roads late in the day, venturing into hilly sage areas occasionally when the mood struck. Found some exciting beer cans and even brought some of them home (didn't have a bag with me and was limited by how many I could carry)! It might not be enough to salvage Laramie's coronavirus economic devastation, but it might be--you just never know. Despite being partly to mostly cloudy much of the day, it was the biggest melt day this year by far. Landscape was revealed today that most people have never seen for months at least, or maybe even decades (in the case of those folks who never used to venture out of town, but who are now doing so out of desperate boredom.)

Lots of moose sign where I ran, a reminder that while one should always be vigilant against the fearsome turkey, moose are not to be trifled with either.

Ran long at Lights of Cheyenne (map). It's been a long time since we've last used this area, and while I was out and enjoying the big views there, it seemed to me that it's been too long.

In turn, I thought about the news that the North Americans and World Rogaining Champs have been officially postponed, which leaves our planned Rocky Mountain O' Festival as the next event of any national significance (is it, is it not?) in line. I haven't talked with anyone since early January about the event, and of course since then many things have happened, to say the least. But, assuming the coronavirus is brought more or less under control and that the ongoing outbreak has clearly peaked and well on its way down in the next 6-8 weeks, it seems like we should be able to go ahead with the event should we choose; also assumes the NFS will be on board to have group activities by then.

I also thought about one single set of rather large tracks I saw in the snow. My first impression was that it might have been a bear. Couldn't have been a dog, because there were no human tracks nearby. And they were too large for coyote. But the more I looked at the tracks and considered, the less I could make them out as bear. And coming home and checking images online, I couldn't make them out as bear tracks either. So, a mystery.

C • Really hoping things ramp d... 8

The cool thing about Spring around here is that it doesn't really look like Spring in most "normal" places, with lush green grasses springing up, trees leafing out, and flowers everywhere with bumblebees busily about, gathering pollen and other goodies.

Instead, it looks a lot like this, desolate, barren, brown, and yet, offering some slim vestige of hope that one day things might change:



It looks mostly like some much misplaced piece of dried up sea weed, but actually it's a pasque flower, waiting for just the right bit of additional warmth (which is why it might have to wait a while) to burst into purple glory. It's said that Prince's favorite flower was the pasque flower, and that in between spring recording sessions he would sometimes take his private jet to fly secretly to Bosler, and from there drive a jeep up into the hills to follow the Wyoming pasque flower season.

Ran in the late afternoon at Happy Jack. I was parking just as top of the hour news was about to start, so I listened to that. Outside it was snow and fog; it started snowing lightly at about daybreak and snowed all day long. While I listened to the news, I watched the snow blowing by, nearly horizontally. It looked cold. After the news, it still looked cold, and I rationalized I should listen to the next segment on the radio, which sounded interesting. As that concluded, it still looked cold, but it was time to get going or else to just decide to take a pass. I did what I usually do at that point, which is I started my stopwatch, pulled on my gloves, told myself if I ran for 15 minutes and really wasn't having fun I would turn back, and stepped out into the cold--because it was cold, upper teens plus the wind and snow.

For the first few minutes it was cold, but at least I had the wind at my back. And I thought about what it would be like to be somewhere in the deep South instead, at 99F and 99% humidity. Once I thought about that, teens and wind sounded a whole lot better, and by then I was starting to get warmed up.

After that, the time flew by, and 2 hours later I was back at my truck. Didn't see another person the whole time. Or a turkey. I kind of wished I had seen some more turkeys.

I headed up to Happy Jack for a longish (just under 2 hrs) run on a piece of Plutonic Pleasures that we've never used and which very few people have ever seen. Saw nobody and saw no animals though I did see a tom turkey and two hens. Before anyone says anything, turkeys are clearly some kind of an alien life form disguised as birds. You only have to watch them in the wild for a couple of minutes to know it must be true. And if you watch them for more than a few minutes, you may see them climb into a spaceship, and blast off for Saturn or Jupiter, or if they're really going far, the Outer Hebrides. It's always a treat to come across some turkeys around here, and it happens seldom enough that it's always a surprise (I did see a few turkey tracks in the snow yesterday, so I had been warned.) Skies were gray the whole time and occasionally a few snowflakes whirled around. As I was finishing, several snow squalls were nearby in different directions.

Not so fun was coming home and checking the latest news. I was dismayed to see an announcement that Adam Schlesinger, age 52, former member of Fountains of Wayne, had died from Covid-19.

I can't remember exactly when it was or where I was when I heard Fountains of Wayne for the first time, but it took only a few notes of one song and I was hooked. The name was quirky. The music was power pop at its best, and Schlesinger was responsible for a lot of those songs. To listen to him talk, you'd think he was a perfectly ordinary guy you could meet anywhere, but he wasn't. His ability to craft a catchy song was extraordinary.

C • Turkeys 9