Was it too little too late, or more probably, too much too late? I wondered, as I finally chose a day to do my single big training run for the Escarpment trail this year. My training had been pretty good this year into April, then my schedule got so busy I found it difficult to maintain my running base of a modest 6 hours per week. I had hoped to increase that base and to start doing progressively longer runs every couple of weeks. But life sometimes fills up.
We started fixing up the house in April, went full speed ahead in May cleaning it out, getting it ready to put on the market, and got it done. But then the hard work paid off: with perfect timing to market, good staging and a little luck, we had a bidding war on our house. All to a great result, but unexpectedly quickly. As a result, I spent much of my free time in June and early July vacating the house, which put a big damper on my training.
This week I finally got some time and felt good enough to put in a big run, but it's a little late for training for the Escarpment trail run, with only 10 days of full rest possible before the race. But since I'd long since given up my hopes for a fast run this year, I just wanted to get out there and do some serious downhills to season my quads for the race, if nothing else. Oh and I wanted to go out and enjoy the mountains of course -- for me that's what it's all about!
Finally back to adventuring! I've done lots of local hikes and trail runs in the last 6 months, but haven't been back to the Catskills since we went snowshoeing one afternoon in February. I headed for Peekamoose Wednesday afternoon, trying to beat the worst of the heatwave coming later in the week, but getting a pretty late start arriving at the trail head about 3:30 pm. Thankfully the summer daylight lasts well into the early evening, unlike on winter hikes when you want to be done or nearly done with your hike by 3:30 pm.
It was 89 degrees in New Paltz before I left, but only 81 at the trailhead of Peekamoose at about 1250 feet elevation. The Catskills aren't the biggest mountains by any means with most topping out at less than 4000 feet, but they're steep, under-utilized, thickly vegetated and pretty wild for less than 3 hours from New York City. Peekamoose is one of the biggest climbs in the Catskills. According to the trail maps, The first main climb is 2.35 miles, and ascends about 2300', then it's another mile to the summit and 300' more up. Interestingly the GPS showed these as 2.84 miles and 3.59 respectively. But miles in these mountains are not like miles anywhere else. The these trails are extremely rough, twisty and rocky. I measure where I am by elevation, not by distance.
I began the climb under-trained and feeling a little daunted because it was pretty hot and humid even being cooler than in the lowlands, and soon my shirt and shorts would be completely drenched and would remain so for the next few hours. Going alone, I brought a 3 liter hydration bladder, an extra 20 oz water bottle, and the usual mini survival kit: some food, mini knife, headlamp with extra batteries, extra battery for cellphone, lighter, space blanket, some duct tape, and other sundries. I wore my new Saucony peregrines to see how the were on a longer mountain run: not bad really, but I might wear the smoother running but wobbly Nike skylons in the race.
The first climb will take under an hour if you're going all out, or over if you're not, so you have to pace yourself. My tentative goal was to hike/run over into the Neversink valley, after topping Peekamoose and Table mountains, but I didn't know how I would feel or how far I would get. Not being in great shape I would hike most of the uphills and try to run some of the less steep sections, then jog the flats and downhills. The main goal was to season my quads for the downhills in the upcoming race anyway, and this would do it: the same ascent I was going up would be an unrelenting 2300' vertical downhill at the end of my run.
It had been a while since I'd climbed anything that big, so I tried to settle into it, but felt awkward running the less steep sections, my legs just frankly not used to much running over the previous month. I hoped my legs would reawaken and enable me to complete a good run, but I wasn't sure. In the thick of that unrelenting first climb you just have to be in the moment. I admit I really like having a device that shows elevation when hiking or running in the mountains because glancing at it can help keep your head where you're actually at, rather than speculating that you're farther up than you are, or vise versa for descending.
I finally got up to reconnoiter rock, which is most of the way up the first climb, and then came upon some backpackers, who I chatted with briefly. They were wondering about water, and places to camp. I showed them the water spot on the map up ahead, before Peekamoose, and told them about the lean-to on the descent from Table mountain. What a day to haul a load up that hill -- it was sultry.
Not long after I passed the backpackers, as I neared the top of the first climb, some clouds moved in and it began to sprinkle. When I got to the view it was raining and you couldn't see much. I stopped under a nearby tree to eat something. I was pretty wiped out from that first 2300' of vertical, and wondered how far I would get, but I was glad to have some flatter ground and began running more steadily on the flatter part before Peekamoose, which came easily.
I had no doubt I would make it over to Table mountain which wasn't far away and back with no problems, at least energy wise, and it was a somewhat cooler high 70s up there, but saturated with humidity, so the sweating never stopped. This was very typical weather for the Escarpment trail run the last few years so it felt very familiar. Indeed, as it had been before a few times, this run was perfect training: the same kind of trail, and a bit more vertical per mile than Escarpment.
Descending Peekamoose and ascending Table makes you wonder how they got away with calling them two separate mountains, but you're glad it's only about a 400' vertical drop between them, not like the devil's path with steep deep gorges between mountains farther north in the Catskills. After topping Table I decided I wouldn't bother with the view to the north, which is off the trail and always seems somewhat more difficult to find than you think it will be. I had to focus because it was getting later in the day, and I was out of practice for these types of long runs, or even hikes; but I would have run out of daylight if I hiked it only, and didn't really want to descent the pretty technical Peekamoose with a headlamp anyway.
The only question in my mind was how far to descend into the Neversink valley off the top of Table mountain. I pretty much knew I wasn't going to go all the way down the 1500 to 1600' vertical feet to the river, but I wanted to get more vertical into my run, so I began going down, passing the lean-to at 300' down, checking it and finding it empty, then back on the trail a little farther down passing the spring trail. I kept going down to about 600' down where the trail levels off for a while. Oh yea I remembered this section now, you have to go up a little after a while before descending fully to the river.
As I hiked up that rise, I knew I wouldn't go too much farther, and looked at my watch. I was about 1:45 into the run now, and decided I would turn around at 2 hours. I was feeling pretty baked by the humid conditions, but my legs seemed to be holding up well, as I ran across the top of the rise and then kept going down, about another 300' to 400' vertical. I just watched the watch now, and the elevation. I remembered doing this run before a couple of times all the way to the river. It seems to take forever, and I was kind of glad I would be turning around early this time. The whole run had taken me about 4 1/2 hours before and I didn't want to go that long.
Turning around and climbing again, I still felt ok, but was glad to be heading back because it was after 5:30 pm now. I still had plenty of water and kept drinking because it was hotter and somewhat sunny again. I still felt good topping the rise, running down and across to the main climb back up Table mountain. My legs were barking at me now again on the climb, getting steeper toward the top.
I thought about the time my friend and I had begun our off-trail backpacking trip by going up that climb from Denning. We were on the trail up to Table mountain, and then our planned route had us turning left off the top of the mountain, off the trail into the thick woods and down into the saddle leading to Lone mountain, one of four off-trail peaks directly north of Table mountain. That trip we would summit Lone and Rocky the first day, camp overnight, then summit Balsam Cap and Friday mountains the next day, rejoin the Wittenburg-Slide trail, summit Slide from the steep eastern side, and return on the Phoenecia east trail. That was a tough fun trip -- the Catskills are thick and unrelenting off-trail, and some would even say on trail.
As I got back up to the spring I thought of checking it, but I was pretty tired of climbing and didn't feel like stopping. My knees were sore, feeling the vertical, but overall my body was holding up pretty well. Still, I was pretty tired when I topped Table again, and hesitated to run all the way across the top of Table, walking some of it, recovering after the climb. I knew it was mostly downhill from there, with a much shorter climb up the north side of Peekamoose.
As I began the descent of Table, running, I felt a great sense of elation at being in those mountains again, able to do such a run in the later afternoon. The sense of physical freedom and the zone of the densely vegetated trail and fresh air of those mountains is wonderful. You at the same time appreciate where you are and what you're doing and know your ability to do such things is finite and you never really know how many more times you will be out there doing things like that. For me these types of runs are mini-adventures.
I had also wondered about the backpackers I had seen earlier. Had they made it to the lean-to now behind me? Or were they at the view on Table nearby? I doubted both, and shortly met them in the saddle between Table and Peekamoose, looking tired and they were asking about the water. I told them they had missed it, looking like a small seep at the bottom of the final southern rise to Peekamoose. You have to have an eye for marked water stops so as not to miss them. But I told them the lean-to was about 1 3/4 head and the water not much farther. I wondered if they would make it there by dark, then being after 6 pm.
Topping and decending the first part of Peekamoose is a piece of cake, and you know the big descent is ahead, and having run down it multiple times before, you remember how unrelenting it is. That was why I was there ultimately, to season my quads, but it had been really rewarding and fun overall to that point. Normally I love downhill running, but when I'm out of shape and then run for almost 4 hours, it's not quite as exhilarating.
I stopped at the view and took in the roundout creek valley with wispy banks of fog blanketing the contours of the hills, and then I began the final descent. There was no way I was going to hammer it, and I knew my legs would be cooked at the bottom even so. With only 10 full days of rest before the race, I didn't want to overdo the run, but probably did anyway.
Halfway down, my legs were pretty tired and I didn't like running the flatter sections, so I walked a little here and there, but I got down ok, after just over 50 minutes for the final descent. I think my best time down that section was about 40 minutes, but that was on younger legs. I went straight over to the roundout creek swimming hole not far from the parking area and waded right in and sat down in the cold water. Nothing like an ice bath to sooth the legs and keep the swelling down after very long hard runs, and this creek was icy that day.
I'll soon see if this training run was too much too late before the race, but it was a fun challenge in and of itself. That's what goals are for, to enjoin in the process of getting out there and pushing yourself. Often I enjoy these solo efforts more than the race itself, but probably in all honesty wouldn't be as motivated to do such a run on a hotter humid day were it not for the goal of training.
Stats: 3 hours 53 minutes moving time
11.1 GPS trail miles
4400 feet vertical climb and descent
average heart rate 143
